#shout out to my partner without him i would never be able to afford it

[kawamamilosc]

i would like to announce that yesterday my new laptop arrived. i wasn't really planning on getting one any time soon but unfortunately due to uni work (i study cyber security) and how slow my old laptop was with everything i made a decision it is time to get a new one

[qzwrites]

Bastiaan at the Brothel pt 1

AUs of my own S2B2 stories? It's more likely than you'd think!

In which Lennart gets to speedrun the virgin-to-dedicated-kinkster pipeline.

---

Bastiaan woke to someone knocking insistently on his door. He squinted at the clock next to his bed. He hadn't even been asleep six hours. "What?" he shouted, annoyed.

"I need to speak to you," came Lennart's voice.

How had Lennart gotten into the brothel when it was the middle of the day and everyone was asleep, Bastiaan wondered, but then realized his favorite customer, as a mercenary, probably knew how to pick locks. Well, as long as he'd locked the door behind him, it was fine; he'd been a regular for long enough now no one would worry too much about him wandering around unsupervised. They'd all know he was there to see Bastiaan anyway, since he never hired anyone else.

"Just come in," Bastiaan called. It wasn't as though he locked his own door once they closed.

Lennart came into the room, shutting the door behind him. "I apologize for waking you," he said as he crossed the room. "I don't have much time."

"If someone's going to get me up before noon, I suppose I'd rather it be you," Bastiaan said, stretching.

Lennart approached the bed while Bastiaan stretched, then sat down on the edge of the mattress facing him. He barely even looked at Bastiaan's naked body peeking out from beneath the sheets, which Bastiaan supposed was another piece of evidence in favor of this being urgent. Without any more preamble, Lennart said, "I've been offered a job."

Bastiaan blinked. Lennart didn't usually tell him much about his work. Bastiaan didn't tell him that much about his, either, except when he thought it might be something Lennart would enjoy hearing. He was too groggy to have a conversation, even with Lennart. "And?"

"It's not a mercenary contract," Lennart said. "It's a...long-term, stationary job. As a combat instructor at the academy out past Halkilde."

"Oh," Bastiaan said. That was far away. Halkilde was nearly the other side of the country. "I take it you'd be travelling less," he said.

"Yes," Lennart said. "I don't know how often I would be able to come through Polnas."

"Oh," Bastiaan said again. He sat up. He felt as if he was weighted down, his body slow to respond to his commands. He recognized the feeling, as it was similar to how he felt after his family was killed. "So we'll be seeing less of each other."

"Yes," Lennart said, and Bastiaan doubted anyone in the world apart from him knew Lennart well enough to tell how sad he sounded. "Unless you come with me."

"What?" Bastiaan asked.

"I asked the Headmistress if I could bring a romantic partner," Lennart said. "She said yes."

"You--Lennart," Bastiaan said. He was painfully aware he was blushing. He'd been a whore his entire adult life and he was blushing because his favorite customer called him a romantic partner. Not even that, really; suggested he might be. But Bastiaan liked Lennart enough that the suggestion of a possibility flustered him more than any sexual advance had in years.

"I understand we have not spoken about anything like this before," Lennart said. No, Lennart had been much more considerate of the reality of their relationship than most customers who were so obviously smitten. He went on, "And it is a significant change. But I...would be foolish to turn down this position, which is well-suited to my skills, as well as considerably safer and more steady than mercenary work." He reached for one of Bastiaan's hands, and wrapped his own around it. Quietly, he said, "But I don't want to not see you."

"Lennart," Bastiaan said. He took Lennart's other hand in his free one. "I don't want to see you less, either," he admitted. They already saw less of each other than Bastiaan would have liked. He wasn't entirely sure how Lennart afforded so much time with him anyway, on a traveling mercenary's pay. Bastiaan hadn't quite dared to suggest to Madam Louisa that they offer Lennart a discount, even though that wasn't so unusual for regular customers. Lennart traveled so much that his high-priced visits were less frequent than any other customer to whom they extended a discount.

And, quite honestly, Bastiaan had been worried she would tease him. He'd spent his entire career voicing his confusion that some of his colleagues found it difficult to keep from getting attached to customers, and now Lennart was the highlight of his days.

Bastiaan glanced again at the clock. "How much time do you have?" he asked.

"The carriage east leaves at two," Lennart said. That was well before the brothel opened. Bastiaan wouldn't even always be awake by then, depending on how late he'd stayed up the night before. He supposed Lennart had little choice but to wake him, if they were to have a chance to talk at all.

"Then why don't you buy me a meal at Ada's and tell me the details?" Bastiaan suggested. Ada's wasn't far from where the carriage-house was, and her cooking was excellent.

"Yes," Lennart said.

Bastiaan got dressed, and managed to restrain himself from pulling Lennart into bed or pushing him against a wall. It was an effort, since it had been so long since Lennart's last visit, and since he had just suggested Bastiaan move across the country to be his kept man.

Until he met Lennart, Bastiaan hadn't really understood the people who left the brothel to be someone's mistress. Yes, you got more free time in exchange for less work, and often perks like clothing and lodging, but it left you so vulnerable to the whims of a single person. At least the people who married their patrons got some legal protection out of it. Yet Bastiaan found the idea less puzzling these days. In fact, Bastiaan had considered several times how pleasant being Lennart's kept man might be.

Probably because Bastiaan was in love with him.

Bastiaan wouldn't even mind not fucking anyone else, which was usually one of the stipulations of these arrangements, if he got to see Lennart every day. Not that Lennart had ever seemed to care at all that Bastiaan had sex with other people. For all that they had spent a fair bit of time together over the last not-quite-two years, what little Lennart said about himself was not especially illuminating. Even when it was informative, it tended to be confusing, simply because Lennart was so unconcerned with what society expected of people. He worked alone, which Bastiaan was pretty sure the mercenaries he knew would have considered somewhere between foolhardy and suicidal; Bastiaan didn't know why he worked alone, apart from the obvious. From what Lennart knew of noble politics and manners, he had to have spent time in a noble house. Both of his parents were dead, like Bastiaan's, but if Bastiaan had read between the lines correctly, Lennart had killed his own father after his mother died. Usually when they had enough time to talk, Lennart asked Bastiaan about himself.

Lennart was strange. Other people tended to find him off-putting. Bastiaan, on the other hand, felt like he'd before never gotten along so well so quickly with anyone. When Lennart didn't understand Bastiaan, he said so, then listened to the explanation, instead of coming up with some kind of reasoning on his own and acting as if that was the truth without bothering to check with Bastiaan.

Ada already had stew and fresh bread ready to serve, so Lennart and Bastiaan took their food to a corner table immediately. As Bastiaan ate, Lennart told him about the school. It had enclosed grounds, indoor plumbing, and meals served three times a day. He was unsure if there were any unfilled positions in the school itself, but there was a village not far outside the grounds. There was even a brothel in the village, though Lennart hadn't asked if they needed any additional help.

"However, you needn't work if you do not wish to," Lennart said. "With room and board for two included in my position, I can support us both. But I will be busy much of the time. I wouldn't want you to get bored."

Plenty of people weren't so considerate of their mistresses' desires when setting up these arrangements, Bastiaan knew. The fact that Lennart thought ahead to not only whether or not Bastiaan might be bored, but what potential occupations he could find at or around the school, was quite endearing. "Are you sure it would be all right?" Bastiaan asked. "I doubt the headmistress thought your proposed romantic partner was a whore."

"I don't see why it would matter," Lennart said. When they first met, Bastiaan would have taken such a statement for naivety, but now he understood it was best to take Lennart at face value whenever possible. Lennart didn't understand why Bastiaan's profession would affect anyone's feelings for him, or opinion of their relationship, because it was not something Lennart found at all relevant. Bastiaan loved that. He loved that Lennart was such a straight-forward man, and he loved that Lennart treated whores like he treated anyone else. "If it does," Lennart went on, "I believe I would still be able to afford to rent you a room in the village. It would be less convenient, but certainly better than having you be a two week journey away."

"You've put a lot of thought into this," Bastiaan said.

For some reason, that made Lennart blush. "Yes," he said, and busied himself with his stew.

"It'll probably take me a few weeks to get everything settled here," Bastiaan said. Lennart's head jerked back up to look at him fast enough to make him splash stew on the table. Lennart hunched into himself, embarrassed, and mopped up the spill with his napkin. Bastiaan said, "But I think I can trust you're not going to get tired of me and strand me on the other side of the country."

"Never," Lennart said, frowning up at Bastiaan. "I could never get tired of you."

"Good," Bastiaan said. "Because otherwise this would be very foolish of both of us." He reached across the table, smiling, and Lennart took his hand.

[whereisten]

Stupid Cupid

A Taeyong fic that’s a part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Cupid, also known as Taeyong, has never experienced real love. But when he meets you, he may finally have a chance.

Pairing: Cupid! Taeyong x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, fluff, smut, fantasy

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: oral (male receiving), penetration, breast fondling, cursing, alcohol use

(A/N: thank you guys so much for being so sweet and understanding and patient. I’ve always believed Halloween should be a celebration for multiple months out of the year and since the Halloween series is ongoing, it works 💀. Anyways, I’m so excited to share this with y’all. ❤️ One of my favorite songs is “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran. And the music video features Cupid so I was inspired. 👍🏼 I hope you guys enjoy it! I also was inspired by “The Consequences of Cursing Cupid” by @by-moonflower). I loved it!)

...

Cupid was one of God’s most prized pupils. He was also one of His most beautiful creations. His hair had the shades of pink you’d see at sunset and warm brown eyes that could claim the heart of almost anyone. His tan skin glowed, bringing a piece of heaven’s glow down to earth with him. His body was slender, elegant, and muscular. His true appearance was known to few mortals but overtime, historians were able to conclude that Cupid was as beautiful as any of the archangels.

God entrusted his son to bring love and hope to the world one couple at a time. With his bow and arrow, he was able to give people love every day. As the years have passed, though, the population of the world expanded and Cupid only had so much time in the day to bring couples together. God and Cupid carefully handpicked Cupid fledglings throughout the years. Cupid wasn’t alone in his work anymore and he could afford some downtime every few centuries. It was 2020 and it was time for Cupid, or, as he was known by his earthly name, Lee Taeyong, to take a vacation.

Taeyong arrived in the sunny coastal town of Isla one Sunday morning. He would stay here for a few months. Taeyong would’ve kept working if he hadn't been forced by his coworkers to take a leave of absence. He’d always been a huge workaholic and quite the perfectionist. He was the type of guy who liked to get things done by himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his team. He just had a fixation with doing things his own way, which caused many clashes over the years.

This time, God had to intervene and force Taeyong to step down so that newly realized Cupids like Haechan and Yangyang could step up in his absence. Taeyong moved into a beach house right by the beach. A whole mansion to himself, he grimaced. What the hell was he supposed to do in such an expansive and luxurious place all by himself? Well, he had some ideas.

As much of a workaholic Taeyong was....when he let loose, he really let loose. It was like there was an on/off switch in his brain when it came to his rebellion and since he was out of work for the foreseeable future, it was time to turn the switch on. All work and no play for so many years made him act out in rebellion, which was why God sent Cupids Sicheng and Kun to watch out for Taeyong this time around.

Taeyong heard a knock on the door of his beach house. He frowned in confusion.  

“Knock knock,” Kun said as he brought in suitcases and carried a backpack over his shoulder. Sicheng followed him in with his own bags as well.

Taeyong frowned. “What are you guys doing here?”

Sicheng beamed. “We’re here to make sure you don’t start up another orgy and anger many significant others…”

Kun nodded. “You’ll barely know we’re here.”

Taeyong brought out his angelic smile. “Is that so?”

…

Even with Kun and Sicheng on his tail, Taeyong was able to throw a massive party at the beach house the next night. A pretty face like Taeyong’s and a few likes on Instagram could attract many followers. And with followers, there was a great party. Celebrities even caught wind of the festivities. Taeyong was able to hire caterers and event planners to make the beach house a Hawaiian paradise. Tiki torches were lit all around the house. People lounged in the lagoon-shaped pool. There were party games in every room in the mansion.

Your friends convinced you to come with them to the hot new bachelor’s party. You could use a night out after working another six day work week at the local Isla Humane Animal Shelter. You wanted to let loose and dance with your friends. If only for a little while. Hopefully, you didn’t think about him now that you were able to relax.

Taeyong was having the time of his immortal life, dancing with one girl...one boy...after another. He was already hooking up with people on the dance floor in the backyard that overlooked the beach. He would grind behind one girl while another boy grinded against him from behind. Taeyong was in nothing but red swim trunks. His abs glistened with sweat and-

Your friend Jisoo said, “y/n, ask him to dance.”

You’d spent the last few minutes staring at the dancefloor. You couldn’t help but watch the pretty boy who stood at the center. You quickly gulped down your drink and shook your head. “Pass.”

Jisoo sucked her teeth. “Y/n, you’ve been staring at him for five minutes now.”

You rolled your eyes. “I like to observe my surroundings...It’s nothing.”

“You should ask the pretty boy to dance. It won’t hurt.”

“Nope. I’m fine right here, drinking my free pina colada...Not a care in the world.”

Jisoo replied, “Y/n, it’s been five months...”

You met Jisoo’s eyes. “Yeah, and I’m doing a lot better. You know this. My family knows it. All of the people who should be sorry to follow me on any social media know this.”

Jaehyun joined you two. “She's talking about how she’s over...him?”

Jisoo nodded. “And she clearly wants to dance with The Bachelor over there.”

Jaehyun watched him, also. “Well, for starters, he’s way cuter than that bastard but she should stay away from him. He’s trouble.”

Jisoo scoffed. “Who are you? Her father?”

Relieved that Jaehyun was on your side, you said, “Thank you, Jay! Now don’t worry about me, Jisoo...I’m great! I’m out of the house. I’m cutting a rug.”

Jisoo eyed you. “Okay…”

Now you had to admit that you thought about throwing caution to the wind and dancing close to the man, making ‘come hither’ eyes at him, kissing him in a closet, and calling it a night. The idea made you wet just thinking about it. But you knew yourself. You were the type to fall hard. And you fell hard once and it left you broken to this day.

Anyway, Pretty Boy seemed kind of busy so you turned the other way to join a game of poker in the living room.

Every human that spent an intimate moment with dear old Cupid was guaranteed the best orgasm of their lives. In Taeyong’s hands, his lover would feel treasured and adored and spoiled. Taeyong, a bringer of love, could bring paradise to anyone.

Now in his human form, Taeyong still had some of those divine powers. However, in a human body, he had limitations.

Like his alcohol tolerance, which, unfortunately for him, had never been good.

Before he could take anyone to paradise like he’d longed to do since he came to the Earthly plane, he was outside in his front lawn, vomiting all of the alcohol he downed in the past two hours.

Taeyong felt woozy. He wasn’t all there the moment when you first approached him. He looked awful. Pale and sweaty from puking so much.

Your concern outweighed your fear of talking to him so you approached him. You handed him a bottle of room temperature water and a wet towel from his kitchen so he could clean himself up.

Taeyong uncapped the water bottle and drank. He managed to say, “Thank you.”

You sighed, relieved to see that he was responsive. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am...Thanks…What’s your-”

“Y/n! Time to go,” Jaehyun started. Jaehyun promised to take you home. You were supposed to go into the shelter tomorrow to finalize an adoption.

You shouted back, “Coming!” You turned to your friend. Taeyong couldn’t see your face now. You did smell heavenly, though. Like fresh berries and daisies.

You turned back to Taeyong and smiled. Even if he was a wreck, he was still the most gorgeous male you’d ever seen. “Great party. Take care of yourself.”

Taeyong was still trying to sober up but he was able to meet your eyes, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen on this planet. In any realm, actually. “You, too…”

You left him there, curious about you. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to ponder further as he threw up again. Maybe these parties were getting old. He always found himself like this whenever he visited good ol’ planet Earth...

…

[One Month Later]

Taeyong continued to indulge in his debauchery, throwing parties every night. Part of him hoped you would return so he could properly thank you for your kindness.

Your eyes were sultry and your scent was intoxicating. He wished he could remember you.

Every night that he spent time with a different partner, he thought of you.

Without any hidden agenda to get in bed with him, you absolutely fascinated him. His clouded judgment that night only made him remember your eyes. That was all he had to go on. He couldn’t explain the need to see you again.

The need grew stronger and stronger.

He certainly couldn’t ask his coworkers or the big man upstairs for help. Surely, they’d misinterpret his actions. He simply wanted to see you again.

In the process, Taeyong slowly began to reevaluate his time on Earth. Like Gatsby before him, he threw even more parties in hopes of you showing up. But he had no idea about your hectic work schedule. The parties continued and Taeyong quickly grew bored. Maybe he needed to get out and explore the city if he ever hoped to see you again.

In the daytime, Taeyong found himself waking up earlier and sending his partners on their merry way. He took up a couple of hobbies at home, as well. Baking and playing games on his Nintendo Switch. For his outings, he’d go to the mall, the grocery store, the amusement park, and more. Everywhere he could think of. But you weren’t there. He had the ability to feel your presence but you were never within his radar and it frustrated him.

Taeyong finished swimming a couple of laps in the pool and went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Kun was making dinner and Sicheng was setting the table.

“Penny for your thoughts, boss?” Sicheng inquired.

Taeyong sighed. “I’m just wondering when you two will finally leave me be.”

Kun turned off the stove and let the stir fry cool. “When your sexual appetite ceases.”

Taeyong frowned. “Have you no shame to comment on my activities?”

Sicheng and Kun looked at each other and looked back at Taeyong. “No.”

Taeyong sighed. “If you must know, the parties will cease tonight. I have given up.”

“Given up on what?” Sicheng asked.

They couldn’t know about Taeyong’s true motive with his parties. “Parties, of course.”

“Really?” Kun asked as he washed his hands.

Taeyong sighed. “Yes. Now let’s eat.”

A few hours later, Taeyong went to the beach to get some sun. A few girls asked for his number and he simply pretended not to know English. He spoke Japanese and spoke broken English to throw them off. He was in no mood to frolick. He was frustrated.

It was because of you. He couldn’t explain it but he desperately wanted to see you. Wanted to know you. Wanted to feel you come alive under him as he pleased you. And he had no leads.

Maybe he should just throw in the towel. It was dangerous for him to entertain the idea of seeing someone as more than just a fling. Knowing his one night stand’s name was more information than he needed.

Perhaps you weren’t real. Oh, heavens. He knew you were real but maybe he should convince himself of the contrary so he could give up on you.

Meanwhile, you’d been busy non-stop. You couldn’t go out and unwind because of your extremely-packed schedule, which was just how you liked it. Whatever free time you had was spent at home curled up in bed before bedtime. It was how you preferred it, though. It helped you get over your ex much more quickly. Or so you thought, anyway.

One of your co-workers at the shelter was an adoption counselor who had a family event she needed to attend. So she asked you for a favor. You came in for the afternoon shift to help pair up families with pets.

You loved working at the shelter, helping animals find their forever homes. It broke your heart to see so many of them, neglected and homeless. You always knew you wanted to work with animals, though. In high school, you started at the shelter as a volunteer. Now, you were one of the managers. You helped with fundraisers and outreach events to get the shelter animals’ faces out there.

You went to check on the dogs, cats, rabbits, ferrets, and other residents of the shelter, like you always did. Then, you finished adopting out an Australian Shepherd. His new family already adored him. The shelter’s adoption process was strict so if a family really wanted to commit to a pet, they had to commit to the process to prove it. So you had high hopes that this adoption would be permanent.

On the off chance it wouldn’t, these animals always had a home here. You wouldn’t cease until you did everything you could to get a home for each animal that walked through the shelter’s front doors.

You took a picture of the happy family to post on the shelter’s social media. You sent them off. You felt like you were being watched so you turned to the front window where you recognized Jaehyun and the pink-haired man from the Hawaiian paradise party. They were talking like they knew each other.

You frowned and walked outside to greet them. “Jaehyun?”

The men faced you. Jaehyun beamed, “Y/n! I was passing through and I ran into Taeyong here who is looking to volunteer at the shelter.” Taeyong was about to cut in when Jaehyun continued. “Is there a volunteer orientation today?”

You shook your head. “It’s tomorrow, Jay.”

Taeyong just looked at you, not saying a word.

You tilted your head in confusion. “But...If you’re free, Taeyong, we’d love to have you.”

Jaehyun answered for him. “Of course he is. There’s no other place he’d rather be!”

Taeyong shot Jaehyun a look but his face softened as he looked at you. “Yeah...He’s right about that.”

Still confused, you smiled. “Okay, tomorrow it is.”

Taeyong headed home after his confrontation with the meddlesome Jaehyun. Just who was he to you, he wondered. How dare he cross a god?

Sure, Jaehyun was a beautiful specimen but he was not at his level, Taeyong thought to himself.

[A Few Hours Ago]

After his time at the beach, Taeyong took another stroll through the town, exploring small businesses and stumbling upon an animal shelter.

Through the front window, he saw a family with their Australian Shepherd. And that’s when his radar switched on. His heart squeezed and his breathing faltered. You were here. You greeted the family inside. They posed for a family photo together with their dog. They held a sign that read “Furrever Home” on it. The family thanked you and you sent them off.

You were exquisite. Your smile. The glimmer of hope in your eyes. Your laugh. You were out of breath from running around so much and from the excitement, he could tell. Even though you were stressed and tired, you were happy at that moment. You turned toward his direction and he read your name on your name tag: y/n.

Taeyong wanted to rush in and call for your name but his feet were planted to the ground.

“Hey, I remember you,” someone called out to him.

Taeyong snapped out of his daze and turned to find a handsome young man with black hair frowning at him. Taeyong started. “I’m sorry. I don’t-“

“You’re Taeyong. You throw parties at that beach house and you’re the city’s most eligible bachelor. It’s all over social media.”

“Yes, and?”

The stranger glared as he nodded at you through the window. “You’ve been watching her, haven't you?”

Taeyong smirked. “And what about it?”

The man looked down at Taeyong’s pants where his member betrayed him. Jaehyun lifted his eyebrows.

Taeyong shrugged. “It’s rude to stare at a stranger’s crotch.”

He laughed. “You’re pretty easy to read, Taeyong. But I gotta warn you: don’t waste her time if you’re not fully committed.”

Taeyong laughed. “And who are you to tell me this?”

“Someone who refuses to see his friend’s heart broken again.”

Again, Taeyong wondered. “Well, I have no plans to let it get that far.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“Jaehyun?” You started.

Then, the conniving Jaehyun set Taeyong up to be a volunteer at the animal shelter without his consent. Well, Taeyong could’ve said no at any time but he didn’t want to disappoint you. Besides, this would be an opportunity to get to know you. Jaehyun may not be so bad, after all, Taeyong mused.

Jaehyun left Taeyong with these parting words. He grinned, showing his dimples. “If you hurt her, I will run you out of this town.”

Taeyong smiled. “I’d like to see you try.”

To anyone else, it would’ve seemed like two friends were parting ways but in reality, it was more like a declaration of war.

Your friend Jaehyun was very protective of you, Taeyong realized. He wondered if Jaehyun was enamored with you. And your nickname of “Jay” for him made Taeyong’s stomach turn.

Who was he to you? And why was he butting in on Taeyong’s pursuit of you? And what did Jaehyun mean by you getting your heart broken again? Who broke your heart? And why was he still breathing, unless Jaehyun failed to mention your ex’s funeral?

Taeyong wasn’t going to break your heart. He wasn’t that stupid. He spent enough time on this planet to set boundaries and never fall in too deep with a human.

It didn’t matter if you made him feel different than any other human has after twenty seconds of an interaction.

…

[The Next Day]

Taeyong wasn’t sure how he would feel about working with animals because he’s never interacted with them before. He envied any family who had a pet, though.

It was a kind of love he didn’t get to see frequently. His job was primarily focused on romantic love so it always fascinated him to see familial love, love between friends, and now love between man and man’s best friend.

You led the volunteer orientation. It was a relatively full house. You gave the new recruits the rundown on maintenance, walking the dogs, socializing with the animals, feeding, laundry, and safety. Taeyong was so impressed by how skilled and informative you were at work. You were a no-nonsense girl when you needed to be.

When the orientation ended, Taeyong lingered behind in the staff meeting room. You had to admit that seeing Taeyong again made your heart do weird things. You’d dreamed of him for a few nights and part of you wished you could’ve gone to another one of his parties. Your friends told you he’d thrown so many this past month that they lost count. So you were shocked to see this wealthy party boy at an animal shelter of all places. You did notice as you gave your talk that his eyes never strayed from yours.

After the orientation, you began, “Hey, Taeyong. How did you like the orientation?”

He smiled. “You were brilliant.”

Your face heated up. “Thanks.”

He asked, “I was wondering if you were free tonight to-“

A volunteer popped in. “Y/n, code leash with Ruby!” Code leash meant a dog was loose in the shelter without a leash on.

You started. “Oh, God. Sorry, Taeyong, I have to help catch one of our dogs.”

You looked distressed so Taeyong decided to help. He didn’t know where this altruism came from but it was there. “I can help.”

“Thank you. I have to warn you, though. She’s not friendly with most people. So be careful.”

You and Taeyong teamed up to catch Ruby while some of the other volunteers also teamed up elsewhere. Ruby had hidden under one of the benches near the cat corner of the shelter.

Ruby was a Papillon, also known as a Continental Toy Spaniel. She was a reserved dog. She was adopted as a puppy but when she was a year old, her owners gave her up for adoption when they were expecting a baby. With the betrayal she’d experienced, she closed herself off from most people and most animals. It took a few weeks for her to warm up to you.

Ruby had cute ears that resembled a butterfly’s, which explained the name of her breed, the Papillon.

With her leash in your hands, you crouched down to greet her. “Hi, Ruby…”

She surprised you by running over to Taeyong, who froze in his tracks. Ruby jumped against his legs and cried. She wanted his attention.

You looked at them in shock. Ruby had never taken so quickly to someone before. You were impressed.

Taeyong’s eyes doubled in size as he slowly backed up. Ruby continued to jump against his legs, regardless. “What’s happening? Is she trying to kill me?”

You fought back a laugh. “No...She wants you to hold her.”

He looked mystified. “Uh...I’ve never…”

“You’ve never…?”

For the first time, he looked shy. “I’ve never held a dog before…”

You approached them and called Ruby again. “Ruby, I’ll help you.”

You picked Ruby up and guided Taeyong. “Just raise your arms and cradle her. It’s okay.”

You handed Ruby to Taeyong and he was shocked at this new feeling he felt in his chest. It was this overwhelming joy and worry and affection he’d never felt. He would die for this dog.

Well, if he could die, he would.

So this is what familial love must be like.

Ruby licked him all over his face and he giggled like a little boy.

You were overjoyed to see Ruby with another person. This was promising. “She really likes you. It took me weeks to get her to warm up to me.”

Taeyong stared at you. “Really? I can’t imagine that…”

“You saved the day, Taeyong. Not bad for your first day as a volunteer.” You laughed.

You led him and Ruby back into her room. You stepped into her small room where she resided alone. She had a big fluffy bed and toys to play with. Even so, it could definitely get cramped in there after a few hours. You would take her for a walk later.

Taeyong asked, concerned. “She lives by herself? She must be so lonely.”

You told Taeyong her story and he understood her circumstances. He was furious at Ruby’s previous owners and he finally understood why places like this shelter existed.

You said, “She needs someone who will remain faithful to her all of their life. I hope she finds them soon.”

Taeyong rubbed Ruby’s belly. “So do I.”

“I have to get back to work. You’re not on the schedule until tomorrow but you are more than welcome to spend some time with the dogs…”

Taeyong was in his own bubble with Ruby.

You giggled. “Or maybe just Ruby.”

You left them be and got back to work.

Taeyong spent the next hour playing with Ruby, taking her for a walk, taking pictures of her, and cradling her to sleep. He hoped to catch up with you later but he couldn’t let go of his attachment to this dog now.

There was something about this town that made him attached to others. First, it was you. Then, it was Ruby.

It was unusual.

Ruby fell asleep and Taeyong checked his phone. He received a text over half an hour ago.

Where are you? Kun says you’re not home :( -Yooa

Crap, he’d forgotten all about Yooa. His “date”.

Taeyong realized he’d be getting earful from Kun later. He texted Yooa he was on his way.

…

[2 Weeks Later]

The first few days were rough for Taeyong because he’d never done manual labor in his life. He was willing to try and with your and other volunteers’ guidance, he was able to pick up on everything quickly. Everyone thought Taeyong was as strange as he was beautiful. They thought he was a sheltered rich boy who was learning how to care for someone else for the first time. Well, they weren’t far off from the truth.

Taeyong volunteered almost everyday at the shelter. He did everything he could possibly do as a volunteer and still had the energy to take the dogs on more walks than required. He was a god, after all. His energy on Earth was higher than that of any normal human’s. He hoped to impress you, too. He tried to ask you out or even for your phone number but you were always busy with shelter tasks. It was very hard to tell if there was a connection between you two.

At the end of each shift, Taeyong always left Ruby for last because she was his favorite shelter animal. “Alright Ruby, today is the day I finally ask y/n out.”

Ruby snoozed in response. Taeyong sighed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

You were the last person to leave the shelter and lock up. Everyone had already left an hour ago but you were finishing up some emails. You found Taeyong waiting outside the door. “Taeyong!”

He waved and smiled, not looking disheveled at all after a full-day shift.

You, on the other hand, could use a shower. “Everything okay?”

Taeyong asked, “Are you free?”

“Uh...”

“I was wondering if you…”

Your eyes as you watched him left Taeyong in nearly almost a trance. The way your hair fell over your eyes when you adjusted your work bag. The breeze caused your perfume to creep into his nose and he had to catch his breath. Even your little yawn after a long day was cute. Damn it.

You started, “Taeyong?”

Taeyong tried to say something but his throat went dry. Why wasn’t he able to say words? He was prepared to say. Come away with me tonight. I’ll take us to dinner and then...Well, it’s your call, y/n.

And here he was, his palms sweaty. His cheeks were red. He was so close to trembling from the new anxiety that crept up on him.

You asked, “Are you okay?”

Taeyong shook his head to shove his fears away. “Are you free?”

He invited you over to his house for dinner as a thank you for showing him the ropes around the shelter. You felt bad for assuming that he was asking you out. It appeared that he wanted to keep this platonic and you were relieved.

You’re a chicken, Taeyong thought to himself. The ball was in his court and he missed his shot to take things further with you. Even so, you’d said yes so all in all, you two were headed somewhere.

You followed Taeyong in your car over to his place. You entered the extravagant beach house, which was surprisingly neat and homey. The furniture looked comfortable, like you could easily fall asleep on it. The lighting was at a low, almost romantic setting. The house was tranquil and all you could hear was the crash of waves in the distance.

Taeyong said, “Please take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you some wine?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

Taeyong smiled warmly at you before he departed for the kitchen.

Another young man appeared as he came down the stairs, calling out. “Sicheng and I will be back in a few days. Our Lord needs us in Beijing for an emergency match-up.” He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and merely stared at you. “Seriously, another ‘appointment’?”

Taeyong darted out of the kitchen. “Kun.”

You got up and waved. “Uh, hi. I’m Taeyong’s friend, y/n. From the animal shelter?”

Sicheng joined the group. “Friend?”

Kun’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re just friends with him?”

You looked at everyone around the living room. “Yes…”

Although you had to wonder what Kun meant by “appointment”. If you had to guess, you weren’t the first girl Taeyong brought home. This week.

You knew Taeyong was a player from the first night you met him. But you were attracted to him so the possibility of a one night stand with him didn’t repel you. You weren’t about to ask for it, though. You were already going out of your comfort zone, coming over to his house for dinner.

And then...Taeyong’s personality surprised you these past few weeks. He was warm and hard-working and kind. You had to admit you had a little crush on him. You wouldn’t let that truth see the light of day, though. A player was a player, no matter what.

Sicheng smiled as he greeted you, “Y/n, welcome to our home. I’m Sicheng. Our rude friend right here is Kun. We are Taeyong’s coworkers and roommates.”

“It’s nice to meet you. What is it that you guys do? You mentioned a match-up?”

Taeyong eyed his friends. “They...”

Kun continued, “We...are dating gurus!”

You replied, “I see. So you’re headed to Beijing? That’s exciting!”

The boys told you they worked for a dating website for high-profile people and traveled to countries like China and South Korea to counsel them on dating. It was unheard of and unusual. At least for you, anyway. But it was kind of fascinating. Kun and Sicheng told you that Taeyong had been working nonstop for years now as a dating guru so now he was taking some time off. They excused themselves and headed off to the airport.

You accompanied Taeyong to the kitchen as he cooked some New York strips for the two of you. He refused your help and wanted you to sit down and relax. “I didn’t know you were a dating guru.”

He chuckled nervously. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“Oh, well, we don’t have to…We could always talk about something else. Like where you’re from?”

Taeyong chopped some vegetables as he mulled over his answer, avoiding your eyes. How was he going to say he came from Heaven? First of all, it would be ludicrous to you. And second, it sounded like a pickup line that would only stroke his ego. There was no way to win by telling the truth. “Abroad.”

You sipped your glass of wine. He was so vague. “Abroad? Where?”

“My Lor-...father traveled all the time when I was growing up so we always moved. And once I got to work with the dating website, the traveling continued.” Nice save, he thought to himself.

“Oh? Wow, that’s sad, isn’t it?”

Taeyong looked at you. “Sad?”

“I mean, maybe it wasn’t...What I meant was that it must have been difficult getting uprooted all the time. Having to get accustomed to a new place...Only to have to start over somewhere else.”

You had no idea, Taeyong thought. You read him like a book so he had to ask. “How did you know?”

You understood his situation very well. “My dad is a lieutenant general. We’ve moved around a lot until I was eighteen. Come to think of it...Are your parents in the military?”

Taeyong knew he had to come up with something. Quick, he told himself, think of something believable. The first thought that came into his mind was Jurassic Park after he watched it last night. “No...He’s a...paleontologist.”

That was an uncommon job but you were impressed. After all, Jurassic Park was one of your favorite movies. You asked him about the places his dad took him, what dinosaur bones his dad uncovered, and more. Taeyong had to get creative and being dumb about the subject didn’t hinder his case. He claimed that remembering the names of species was impossible for him. You were riveted, regardless. You spent most of the time talking about Jurassic Park, anyway. You told him about Universal Studios’ Islands of Adventure and a Jurassic Park feature located at the park. You suggested you two could go together sometime and Taeyong’s eyes lit up, then. His doe eyes caught you off-guard.

You continued talking about your interests and your pasts. Well, you did. Taeyong had to get a little creative when topics such as his “childhood” and “family” came into conversation. But other than that, he enjoyed having you in his home. You were full of warmth and generosity. You laughed at his jokes and asked him about how he was doing. It left him speechless. He wasn’t sure what you were really thinking or if you were even interested. You were equally unsure and found yourself considering what you’d been fighting since the moment you first laid eyes on him.

Taeyong served dinner. His cooking was incredible. The steak and baked potato were paradise on your taste buds. “Taeyong, oh my God, this is incredible. You should be a five-star chef and open a restaurant.”

Taeyong chuckled. “Thank you, y/n but I’m more of a pastry chef than anything else.”

“What’s your price for a batch of chocolate cupcakes?” You teased.

He smiled. “Free of charge.”

“But?”

“Well, if you were free to watch Jurassic Park 2 with me this week, then I would consider it.”

“I’ll take it.”

Taeyong was excited that you two would see each other outside of work again. Taeyong served you cookie dough ice cream with fudge.

You ate your ice cream. “Thank you so much for inviting me over. I haven’t been able to hang out with friends in a while so this means a lot.”

Friends. Taeyong was a little hurt at your label of him. He thought there was something between you. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to make a move so he forced a smile. “I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

…

[2 months later]

Taeyong continued to volunteer at the shelter. His ego took a nice, deserving blow after you told him you were just friends. He was still happy that he got to spend time with you. You became so close that you spent most of your time with him outside of work. You played video games and watched movies. You also fostered some animals together on the weekends.

Taeyong hadn’t thrown a party or gone to one since he started spending time with you. His phone started lighting up a lot less as the weeks passed. The truth was Taeyong had stopped hooking up with anyone else. He was focused on you. Getting to know you.  

You even told him about your ex Jaemin. You and Jaemin were going strong for 11 months. The biggest player at your university, Jaemin worked hard to get you to say yes to dating him. The romance started off beautifully and ended abruptly when Jaemin said he didn’t want to be unfair to you. The day after the breakup you saw him out with another girl like it was nothing. And a month later, they were engaged to be married. Now, they were married and expecting a child together. It seemed that he genuinely loved his wife. The way he looked at her with such affection the day after he broke up with you. It broke you because that was how you used to look at him. You thought he was the one and up to a certain point, he told you you were the one for him. You wondered how he moved on so quickly to this day.

Since then, you didn’t want to date anyone, much less a playboy. Hook-ups were something you would’ve considered but you were still hurting. Taeyong had been the first boy you looked at in five months but you still weren’t ready. However, now that you two were getting to know each other...Maybe, just maybe…

Taeyong wanted to track down Jaemin and destroy him, break up his family, and kill him. Well, maybe not to that extreme. But he wanted to avenge you for how Jaemin could’ve been so swift in hurting you and moving on like nothing. He had to wonder…

If maybe one of his coworkers had something to do with it. He’d never had a hand in pairing up a Na Jaemin with anyone. If that were the case, he would’ve never forgiven himself for pursuing you.

He finally understood that you were guarding your heart and he didn’t want to push you. He would wait for as long as it takes to…Well, he wasn’t sure...Kiss you? Take you out on a date? He wasn’t sure how romance or courting worked.

It took some convincing but Taeyong finally decided to foster Ruby for the week. He didn’t refuse before because he didn’t want Ruby. He was scared of being ill-prepared for taking care of her or that his house had some hazards for the little dog.

You drove Taeyong and Ruby back to his house. The three of you stood outside his front door. He had Ruby on a leash.

Taeyong started. “Are you sure, y/n? What if Ruby falls in the pool when I go take a shower? What if she chews at my phone charger and gets electrocuted?”

You laughed. “Taeyong, how is she going to get in the backyard? Are her paws going to magically turn into hands so that she can turn the doorknob to the back door?”

“No…”

“So long as you keep her active and give her toys and activities, she will have no reason to chew at your charger or go on an online shopping spree while you’re asleep.”

Taeyong frowned, knowing that you were mocking him now. “Fine. But if anything happens, I’m taking you down with me.”

Your eyes danced. “Fine with me.”

You three went to the beach and Ruby was having fun playing on the shoreline. Taeyong giggled like a little boy as he played fetch with her. You watched them and smiled. It was beyond you why Taeyong wouldn’t adopt Ruby. They clearly loved each other very much. Maybe today you could finally convince him.

You returned to the beach house as you ate ice cream cones from the boardwalk ice cream shop. Ruby ran back inside to drink from her water bowl. You and Taeyong lingered on the outside deck by the pool and watched the sunset. Taeyong’s chocolate ice cream cone was melting at the sides and you regretted not buying chocolate so without thinking, you licked his melting ice cream. Taeyong was caught by surprise and you looked up at him before getting back to your ice cream cone.

The innocent but teasing glint in your eye made him shocked and aroused. He paid a little too much attention to your tongue. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. And he longed for it to worship his body.

You winked. “Sorry. You’re a slow eater and it was melting…” You handed him your vanilla ice cream cone. “You can have some of mine.”

He snapped out of it and licked the cone as suggestively as he could to try and get a reaction out of you. And that he did. His big brown eyes had a mischievous glint to them. He smirked. You avoided his eyes completely. “Y/n.”

You bent down and pretended to tie your shoe and realized you weren’t wearing sneakers but sandals. You got back up, embarrassed and still looking away from him. “Yeah?”

“I like you.”

You looked back up at him. “Taeyong-”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just wanted to say it. At least once.” He liked you for a long time now. The more time he spent with you and went out of his way to be with you every moment he could made him realize that maybe what he longed for with you wasn’t simply one night of pleasure.

He wanted more. He didn’t know exactly what that meant. But he just liked to be with you. Your kindness, your wit, your sense of humor, everything about you made Taeyong feel that heaven could be found in another person.

He didn’t want to push you, not at all. He did wonder about what things would be like if you gave into each other. But he would still wait for as long as it took for you to consider him.

You admitted, “Taeyong, I like you, too.”

He sighed in relief. “Oh, thank heavens. Let’s go out on Friday.” Hundreds of plans were running through his mind of how he wanted to spoil you for your first date. He’d been doing research on where he could take you in the city and debated whether or not a road trip to Universal Studios would be too much.

You smiled in spite of yourself. “That’s so sweet…”

“But?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready...Or if I can trust you...You’re very…experienced.”

Taeyong looked at you in confusion as he finished his ice cream cone. “What do you mean? I’ve never dated.”

“I mean...Sexually…” You muttered the last word. Your face was hot and Taeyong only looked at you like you’d said the sky was blue.

“Taeyong, before we met, you were partying every night and sleeping with multiple people. Are you going to tell me that you’re not that person anymore? Because you know what happened with Jaemin...I don’t want that again. If we are going to take this any further, you have to be honest with me. When you want to end it, show me your heart. Don’t leave me wondering what I did wrong...” He could see your eyes get bigger and redder. They were welling up. Your voice broke and it broke him to hear it.

He hated seeing you unhappy. You didn’t deserve to be burned the way you had. He wrapped his arms around you, then. For the first time. “I would never do that to you. I would never-”

You hugged him back. “Please don’t make promises you can’t keep. Let’s just take this slow...Okay?”

He never felt as close and vulnerable with someone. Then you came along and he was ready to do what he could to be with you. To at least try. “Okay.”

He caressed your face and pulled you in for a kiss. He lifted you off the ground and sat you on a ledge as he leaned down to kiss you deeper. His tongue intertwined with yours. You both tasted like ice cream and it made you both crazy with longing. You were the first to stop the kiss and reminded him, “Slow.”

He kissed your forehead. “Slow.”

…

[4 Months Later]

You and Taeyong took your new relationship slow. It drove you both crazy that you put off sleeping together for so long. You wanted to get to know Taeyong better. So did he. Even if this was the longest dry spell Taeyong had undergone, it was worth it.

“What’s got you so happy, boss?” Sicheng asked, visiting from New York. Sicheng and Kun moved out months ago when they saw that Taeyong wasn’t causing any trouble. Sicheng held Ruby in his lap. Taeyong adopted Ruby not too long after you two agreed to date.

Taeyong was worried, though. Just how far could he take things with you before he was summoned back by God? It could be five years or fifty years before He called him back to Heaven. Taeyong had to tell someone what was eating at him and Sicheng was one of his closest friends. “I need to tell you something.”

After Taeyong told Sicheng about you and what transpired all this time, Sicheng sighed, “Taeyong, this is trouble. We are not supposed to get involved with humans.”

“Sex is okay but dating and marriage are out of the question? How does that make sense?”

Sicheng frowned, reminding Taeyong of Kun at that moment. “Sex was never okay. In moderation and with zero strings attached? Sure...But you’ve crossed several lines...You’re playing with fire by pursuing y/n.”

Taeyong sighed in frustration. “I know but Sicheng, I’m falling…”

Sicheng watched Taeyong that night and witnessed how he changed after he met you. He put a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder. “I know. You’ve fallen since that first night. Five seconds.”

It took Taeyong five seconds to fall in love with you.

Taeyong continued, “I want to make this work. Let our Lord find out from me.”

“But-” Sicheng started.

“I appreciate you for not ratting me out to our Father, Sicheng. You’re a good friend.”

Later that night, Taeyong picked you up from your apartment and wanted to surprise you. He blindfolded you as you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Taeyong whispered into your ear. “Can you hear me?”

You laughed and bit your lip. “Taeyong, it’s a blindfold. Not ear plugs. Why are you whispering?”

He whispered even lower and the warmth of his breath made you fidget and press your thighs harder together. “It’s fun. That’s all.”

He could tell you were aroused. He could see your nipples through your black dress and he had to control his cock from making an early appearance. It was a good thing he blindfolded you.

Taeyong drove you two in silence and his giggles made you laugh. You held hands. It didn’t take too long to reach your destination. He escorted you out of the car and removed your blindfold.

“Surprise!”

You were at the Isla Central Marina and you stood before the entrance of a yacht named Cupid’s Bow. The boat was decorated with white Christmas lights.

“Taeyong, what is all this…”

He smiled as he led you onto the boat. “It’s where we’re having dinner tonight.”

You sat down at the table set at the center of the yacht. It was decorated with white daisies. Taeyong chose white daisies because their scent reminded him of you. And for their significance.

He sat you down at your seat and squeezed your shoulders.

You looked around in wonder. The night sky was clear as the full moon shone down on you both. “This is amazing. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Taeyong sat across from you and smiled brightly. “I want to give you the world, y/n. If you let me, I will.”

Your face felt flushed and you stared down at your lap. “You’re so corny.”

He asked for your hand and you gave it to him. He kissed it and looked at you with what could be described as bedroom eyes. He tried to seduce you a couple of times now because he loved to tease you. You’d tease him back and pretend to consider sleeping with him. Fair’s fair.

But tonight? The teasing would stop.

Someone else cleared their throat. “Welcome to Cupid’s Bow. Thank you for dining with us tonight. I will be your server, Kun.”

You gasped and laughed. “Kun, what are you doing here?”

Dressed as a waiter, Kun said, “Taeyong needed a hand for tonight. And our friend Sicheng will be maneuvering this vessel.”

You turned to Sicheng as he waved from the steering wheel. He was wearing a captain’s outfit. You fought back a laugh. They were a cheesy group of guys.

Kun started you guys off with drinks as the boat departed the marina. You sailed around the bay that connected to the ocean. The bay led into downtown Isla where the city lights shone brightly. It was a beautiful modern-day fairytale.

Taeyong started up a playlist from his Bluetooth speakers and asked you to dance. “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran played.

Taeyong was a great dancer. He must have been classically trained for years. He spun you in circles and dipped you, pretending he was about to drop you to tease you. He pulled you close and hummed along to the lyrics. You laughed and held him tightly.

The songs continued as you and Taeyong watched the view. He held you from behind. The night was perfect.

“Y/n,” he said into your ear softly.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

You turned back to him and smiled. “I love you, too.” You kissed him.

You liked Taeyong ever since that night you met. But you started falling in love after you saw how he was with Ruby. He carried a lot of love and loyalty in his heart that it left you in awe every time you were with him. There was more to him than the wealthy bachelor persona he emitted. That wasn’t who he was. He was a man who loved fiercely. He was your best friend. And now you wanted him to be your lover.

You sat down together and ate Italian cuisine. Kun was an incredible chef. You and Taeyong share lasagna and chicken Alfredo. It was delicious. For dessert, you two fed each other gelato.

When Cupid’s Bow returned to the dock, you and Taeyong sat in the car, awkward.

Taeyong waited for you to tell him to take you home but it never came. You wanted him to suffer for a few more seconds.

You started. “Thank you for tonight.”

He cleared his throat. “I had the best time.”

“Can I stay the night?” You asked softly.

Taeyong was hearing things. “I’m sorry?”

“Let’s spend the night together.”

Taeyong was about to jump out of the driver’s seat and scream. He played it cool and his face was unreadable as he said, “Okay.”

You giggled. Taeyong was an enigma but you could see the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

You returned to the beach house and darted to the pool. Taeyong ran after you. You removed your dress and turned to him, biting your lip because you knew he loved it.

You were down to your black and red lingerie and Taeyong was so close to salivating. He longed to worship your body. He stood there, unable to move. He watched you slowly descend the steps into the pool and wait for him.

He walked slowly over to you, like a tiger about to pounce on his prey. He wanted you. You could see the desire in his gaze. He unbuttoned his shirt and you could see his abs glisten against the reflection of the pool. He smirked again, knowing it drove you crazy when he did that. He slowly unbuckled his belt and you could see his bulge better as he pulled down his pants.

“Wow,” you said.

“Hmm?”

Taeyong was down to his briefs. He pulled them down and chucked them away. His physique was like that of a statue of a Greek god. He was rock solid. You swam into the deep end, waiting for him to follow you in.

Taeyong got into the pool and dove down. You couldn’t see him now.

You were waiting for him to surprise you but time passed and you wondered if something was wrong.

“Yong?” You started. “Yong!”

He crept up behind you then, pulling your panties down in the process. “Boo.”

You smacked him. “Jerk. I thought you were dying.”

Taeyong chuckled. “I wasn’t down there for that long.”

“You’re kidding, right? I counted. It was at least a minute.”

Maybe he crossed the line with his immortal abilities, then. He sighed. “What can I say? I have incredible lung capacity.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why don’t we put that to the test?” You put your arms around him and kissed him deeply.

Taeyong’s heart skipped a beat. Your soaked body got him harder. You got onto his lap and he kissed your cleavage. His kisses were everything. You had been thinking about your first night with him for a long time now.

Taeyong lowered the strap of your bra and kissed your shoulder, silently asking if he could unclasp your bra. You nodded. He adored your breasts, biting and sucking at them.

You lowered your hand to his pelvic region and felt his large cock. He grunted as you clasped it. You kissed his neck and nipped at his ears.

You both loved teasing each other so now that you were spending the night together, neither of you was going down without a fight.

After a few minutes, Taeyong carried you out of the pool. You looked up at him, admiring his flawless profile. He dried you off and he took your hand and led you upstairs to his shower.

He started up the shower and you looked up at him. He took your face into his hands and gave you a peck on the lips. He smiled.

He started washing you with his body wash. It was Jo Malone Lime Basil & Mandarin. It smelled just like Taeyong and you wished you could smell like this all the time. He carefully navigated your body like you were a fragile vase and kissed you all over. He saved your chest for the end and could feel your heartbeat against his palm. He looked up at you through hooded eyes and you kissed his nose.

You washed him and teased him as you washed around his crotch, lightly tracing it with your fingers. His skin was soft while his body was muscular. He was the most beautiful contradiction in the world.

Taeyong pulled you in for another kiss and you wrapped your arms around each other. He turned the shower off. You both dried off.

He scooped you up, making you giggle. He laid you down gently. You stretched your body against the mattress and Taeyong admired all of your angles.

“I’m going to fuck you until the sunrise, y/n,” Taeyong said as he looked down at your body. Your eyes lock on him. They were no longer doe-like.

“I bet you are,” you said, feeling a little nervous now.

He straddled you and kissed you. His cock teased its entrance into your folds. “My stars, you are the most gorgeous creature,” he said as his face was mere centimeters from yours.

You pulled him closer and you kissed again, running your hands over his back. He traced his fingers around your folds, teasing your entrance. You whimpered as you held him tightly.

You pushed him off of you and laid him back as you gripped his cock and pumped. “You think you’re the only who’s been dying for this moment?”

Taeyong gaped at you. You were the first partner to take charge. His other lovers usually let him take the lead. He didn’t mind it much but to see you cater to his needs made him dizzy.

You took his cock into your mouth and your throat burned from the contact. You couldn’t take all of him in so you had to love the rest of him with your hand. You started bobbing your head back and forth, licking the veins of his throbbing member. Taeyong grunted. “Fuck, y/n.”

You looked up at him and his heart nearly stopped again. He gripped your hair. He came into your mouth and you swallowed his seed.

“You taste better than I imagined,” you said as you wiped your mouth.

You were generous in all aspects of life but in the bedroom? Taeyong was floored. “Allow me to pamper you.”

He laid you against his bed frame and brought out handcuffs.

“Well, you came prepared. Are those new?” You hoped they were.

“Yes. They came in yesterday…Good timing, wouldn’t you say?”

You nodded as he unlocked the cuffs. “Lift your arms up, y/n.”

You obeyed and he cuffed you. Your breasts were raised beautifully and Taeyong sighed. “Breathtaking.”

You averted your gaze and Taeyong shook his head. He took your chin and turned your face to him. “No, no...Don’t get shy on me now...Not when you fucked me with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You loved how low his voice became and you felt your pussy tremble underneath him. He fondled your breasts, squeezing your nipples and biting them. He kissed around your folds. He traced his tongue at your entrance and breathed against it, making you whimper. He started whispering sweet nothings in multiple languages. He spoke in almost ten languages and you wondered who this man really was. You came once he spoke dirty French into your ear.

You were already soaked and Taeyong wanted to indulge in torturing you for a few minutes before he entered you. He started by slipping one finger into your entrance and carefully avoided your G-spot to rile you up.

“Taeyong, please,” you cried.

He stopped and kissed your forehead. “We have all night, y/n.”

You pouted. “You’re too good at torturing me.”

He smiled. “Am I torturing you? I didn’t think so.”

You wrapped your legs harder around his abdomen. “Get inside me. Now.”

He sighed. “You seem to forget that I’m calling the shots, y/n.”

You licked your lips. “Are you?”

He frowned and slipped his fingers out of your folds. “Do you not like it?”

You shook your head. “I do. I do. I do.”

He smirked. “Then, let me work.”

He continued to fingerfuck you until you cried. “Yong, please…”

“I love when you call me Yong. It destroys me,” he said as he finally entered you.

You cried out loud as his cock entered and hit you in the right places. You could feel him go deeper and could feel his cock twitching in your belly. You climaxed quickly and Taeyong quickly pulled out and came right after.

Taeyong cleaned you both up, not removing you from the cuffs just yet.

“Uh, Taeyong?”

“Yes, darling?”

“You forgot something?” You looked up at the cuffs.

“Oh, you’re right. I did forget something.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

He walked out of the room.

Your arms started to hurt from having been raised for so long. “You are so funny!”

He returned with a tray that had two glasses of water and a bowl of strawberries and whipped cream.

“Are you hungry?” Taeyong asked, acting oblivious.

“Taeyong, I think it’s your turn to try on the cuffs…”

He beamed. “Exactly what I was thinking, y/n.”

“Okay, great. Now if you can get these off of me, the chances of me choking you to death will be lower.”

He laughed. “You’re so funny.”

He sat next to you in bed. And fed you a strawberry with whipped cream on top, popping it into your mouth. He carefully slipped his finger out and licked his finger. “Mmm.”

He took the whipped cream and drew out shapes onto your body, tracing his tongue over the shapes and eating the whipped cream. It drove you crazy.

“Now that I’ve had my dessert. It’s only fair that you enjoy yours.” He uncuffed you.

You cuffed him and had your way with him. You even took it a step further and pulled out another set of handcuffs from the drawer. “I see you got an extra pair.”

He smiled. “Can never be too prepared.”

You returned his smile. “Let’s kick it up a notch. Shall we?”

You cuffed his ankles, as well. He laid in bed and waited for you to get to work on him but you decided to get the bowl of strawberries and whipped cream and eat a couple slowly. You even fed a couple to Taeyong.

You started, “This is nice.”

Taeyong grumbled in Korean.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I’m just waiting here. Patient.”

“Like the good boy that you are,” you cooed.

Your voice made him harder. You took the whipped cream and traced it over your collar bone. “Lick,” you commanded.

He licked across your collarbone. Then, you drew shapes onto his body, drawing a heart around his pelvic region. You saved it for last and slowly licked around it. You kissed his tip. He groaned. You straddled him and kissed him passionately.

You teased each other like that all night and made love for hours. You fell asleep in each other’s arms, holding each other tightly. The sun had risen a few hours ago. You woke up first and found Taeyong holding you tightly to his chest. He felt your movement in his sleep and he held you tighter. The sun lit up his features. He looked like an angel.

You kissed his cheek and his eyes opened slowly. “Good morning.”

You smiled. “Hi.”

He stretched and held you again. “I need to check on Ruby.”

You shook your head. “I’ll take care of her. You sleep.”

He whined. “It’s okay. You rest.”

You giggled. “It’s okay.”

You and Taeyong got cleaned up. You borrowed some of Taeyong’s clothes. You took Ruby for a walk around the neighborhood. You spent a quiet day together, living in utter bliss.

…

[1 Week Later]

Taeyong was on cloud nine. Having you in his life made him complete. He can’t imagine it getting better than this. You were at work and Taeyong was preparing dinner for you as you were sleeping over later. He was going to ask you to move in.

He finished his homemade pepperoni pizza and put it in the oven. He heard the doorbell ring. Ruby barked and he joined her to see who was at the door. It couldn’t be you. It was too early. He opened the door to find Mark at the door.

“Mark!” Taeyong smiled and hugged him. Mark was another one of his coworkers and close friends. Taeyong regarded him as a little brother.

“Taeyong, it’s great to see you…Wow, you are glowing.” Mark eyed him carefully.

He smiled, thinking about you. “Yeah...I guess I am. Come in!”

After they sat down and caught up with each other, Mark said, “I’ll cut to the chase...I’m here in Isla for my next pairing session.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded. The usually lighthearted boy looked serious. “I know about y/n.”

Taeyong’s smile faded. Ruby snuggled tighter to Taeyong as she rested on his lap. “Who-“

He shook his head. “I found out myself. Y/n is my next assignment.”

Taeyong felt his world crashing down onto him. “No…”

Mark sighed. “I expected one of the fledglings to get into this mess but you? Our mentor? It’s absurd.”

“Mark-“

“Father doesn’t know…Imagine his disappointment when he finds out. He doesn’t have to. If you end it now.”

Taeyong’s chest was on fire. Tears were threatening to fall. “No.”

Mark frowned. “What?”

“You heard me, Mark. I’m not leaving her.”

Mark sighed. “Once I strike the arrows at her and her partner, it’ll be over.”

Taeyong shook his head. “Mark, please.”

Mark hurt for his friend but his duty as a Cupid came first. “I’m sorry, Taeyong. This is how our world works. You’re the one who told me so.”

Taeyong hated this. He hated the world he knew before you. How could he go  back to a world of bringing love to others and have no love himself? He couldn’t. Not after meeting you. You’d been burned before. No doubt by one of the Cupids interfering. He wasn’t about to let that happen again.

“Taeyong, if you interfere with y/n’s pairing...There’s no telling what the consequences will be.”

“I’ll be the one to deal with that, Mark. But I won’t let you come between us.”

After their exchange, Mark left. Taeyong retired to the kitchen to check on the pizza. It was ready.

“What is he saying, Taeyong?” You started.

“Y/n?!” Taeyong jumped as he found you waiting for him at the kitchen island. 

You’d snuck in earlier to surprise him with sweet potatoes you bought from the farmer’s market. You wanted to scare him because it was a bit of yours. You snuck through the back door with your own set of keys he gave you.

You were about to duck your head into the living room when you heard Taeyong say he wouldn’t leave you. Your heart sank.

He wanted to hold you. “Y/n…”

You crossed your arms. “What is going on? Who is Mark? And who exactly is your father? What exactly is your job, Taeyong? Because I’m beginning to suspect you’re not a dating guru.”

Taeyong sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Taeyong checked the schedules of the fledglings at work in Isla. The best way for him to prove his identity to you was to show you how Cupids worked. “Come with me.”

He drove you to an amusement park. You turned to him. “You are not taking me on a date right now.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. Just follow me.”

He led you into the park and you sat down on a bench by the haunted house.

Taeyong started. “See that guy in the leather jacket? That’s my coworker Shotaro.”

“I don’t see him…” There was no one by that description where Taeyong was pointing.

“Y/n, hold my hand.”

“Taeyong, now’s not the time.”

“Please. Just do it.”

You gave in and held his hand and suddenly, a young man in a leather jacket appeared. Shotaro was carrying a bow and a bag of arrows. He prepared his arrow to shoot at someone leaving the haunted house.

“Taeyong, what is he doing?!” You yelled.

Taeyong shushed. “Y/n, just watch.”

You put a hand over your mouth and you were about to run over and stop this madness. Taeyong held you back.

Shotaro released the arrow and hit the young woman first. She looked at her best friend and kissed her cheek. Shotaro then shot another arrow at the best friend. She kissed the first young woman on the lips, then. The arrows vanished just as quickly as they pierced both women. It was as if they were never struck. Shotaro noticed Taeyong and waved before he faded away.

You rubbed your eyes. “Taeyong?”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell was that?”

“More like what the heaven was that…”

“Explain.”

Taeyong explained everything to you. How he was Cupid. How there were Cupids all over the world bringing people together. Taeyong was the original Cupid and he was on vacation. You took it all in and a lot of things started to make sense. Why he never spoke about his family or his job. How a lot of things were so new to him. It wasn’t because he was a sheltered rich boy. He wasn’t even human. He was a god.

This also meant that your concept of love was completely wrong. Cupids had their hand in romance all over the world. Which made you realize...

“So…When Jaemin broke up with me, it was because of you guys?”

Frustrated that you brought up Jaemin, Taeyong managed to say, “Yes…”

Tears fell from your eyes. “And you were never going to tell me?”

“It wasn’t my place to-“

“Oh, hell, if it’s not...How long were you going to play me like this? You were going to leave, anyway. What was the plan? Lead me on and then dump me like Jaemin did?”

Stabbed by your words, he begged, “Stop saying his name.”

“Well? How long were you planning to lead me on for? I’m sure you have a carefully crafted schedule for your next victim ready.”

Taeyong shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”

Tears fell onto your lap. “Taeyong, I loved you. Did you ever love me?”

The past tense killed him to hear. “Y/n, I love you. I’ve never loved anyone in all my years. You’re the only one for me.”

“Taeyong, you’re going to leave me.” You sobbed.

He shook his head. “I won’t leave you. I’ll fight for us.”

You hugged him tightly and he shushed you. He bought you a funnel cake with a large cup of lemonade to share. You both ate in silence for a few minutes.

You broke the silence.“When Mark said I had a pairing session, that means that I’m being matched with someone. Someone that isn’t you…”

“Yes…”

“Taeyong, I don’t want to be matched with someone else. What are we going to do?”

“I have a plan.”

You sighed. “I’m being selfish.” “What? No...Why would you think that?”

You took a sip of the lemonade. “The consequences of you disobeying...God, I still can’t believe it....I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Taeyong replied, “Let me deal with that, y/n. I will fight for us. It’ll take some convincing but after all of my years with Father, he has to listen to me.”

…

[The Next Day]

Tonight was the animal shelter’s fundraising gala in downtown Isla. It was held at the lavish Sun and Moon Hotel’s ballroom. Your potential partner would be in attendance tonight but you didn’t care. All you cared about was Taeyong and what he had up his sleeve. Mark was mingling with the other guests. He didn’t know that you were in on his plans with you. He met your eyes and smiled, playing the part of the oblivious but charming young man.

As far as Mark knew, you and Taeyong broke up last night so you had to look miserable. And frankly, you felt miserable not knowing what was about to happen with Taeyong. There was a chance you could lose him forever tonight. But you held onto the chance of remaining with him.

You forced a smile and continued to mingle with the guests. Meanwhile, Taeyong disguised himself and kept an eye on Mark. Mark may have been a well-established Cupid by now but he was not at Taeyong’s level. He was off by a few centuries.

The shelter had received a lot of donations from many local businesses and celebrities. You gave a thank you speech to all the attendees for their generosity and raised your glass to them. The uncertainty was killing you underneath it all.

Taeyong watched Mark prepare his arrow, then. Mark was no longer seen by humans. You realized Mark and Taeyong were missing, which meant it was time. Taeyong prepared his arrows. He stabbed himself with his own arrow as he watched you. Right before Mark shot his arrow, Taeyong shot at you. You turned to him, then, finally able to see him. Mark realized too late what he had done.

Mark yelled. “What have you-”

Taeyong and Mark vanished.

…

[5 Years Later]

The year you spent with Taeyong had vanished from your memory. The night of the gala after Taeyong and Mark disappeared, you continued on with your life. Living with an inexplicable hole in your heart. You thought it was because you were being dramatic. Seeing a lot of your friends get married and have kids didn’t help your case either. Meanwhile, you were alone. Working hard and thriving, sure. But emotionally, you weren’t all there.

None of your friends or family remembered Taeyong either. It was as if he never existed to any of you. One day, Jisoo introduced you to one of her friends from her gym. You two hooked up not too long afterwards. The night was fun. It was a one-time thing.

However, that one-time thing ended up in your pregnancy. The father wanted nothing to do with your child so he skipped town. You didn’t hold it against him. The child was unplanned and you decided to carry on with the pregnancy on your own. Your friends and family were very supportive. You gave birth to a baby girl named Daisy.

The emptiness in your heart was filled by your love for Daisy. She was your world. She was your partner in crime. You wanted to give her everything good the world had to offer. Maybe someday you could give her a father.

After dropping her off at pre-school, you stopped by the post office to send out a letter to your pen pal. Isla recently started up a pen pal program for its citizens to send each other letters and gifts. You were paired up with someone who shared a lot of the same interests as you: favorite movies, foods, and animals.

You were paired up with a man named Lee Taeyong.

Dear Taeyong,

I’m sending you a copy of my favorite movie of all time, Jurassic Park. Please let me know if you like it. If you do, there’s a bunch of stickers in it for you. I hope you have safe travels to Munich and Budapest.

Warmly,

y/n

Taeyong had faced serious consequences for interfering with your pairing session. The work that had to be put in to pair up y/n’s original partner, Nakamoto Yuta, with someone else put everyone into a frenzy. Thankfully, the damage was repaired.

However, the Lord was pissed. Taeyong disobeyed him. Even though God adored him, he knew he had to be punished. For every second it took for Taeyong to fall in love with you, it would take a year for you two to reunite.

God relieved Taeyong of his Cupid duties and wished him a wonderful life as a human. He looked forward to Taeyong returning to him again one day.

Taeyong returned to Isla with an established job as a pilot. Ruby remained with him. His friends Sicheng and Kun would look after her while Taeyong was away now and then. He loved traveling the world but he loved coming home to Ruby most of all. He tried dating a couple of times but it never clicked with anyone. And hook-ups were a thing of the past. He wanted something serious. He hoped to find someone to call his person someday.

He recently sent his pen pal a letter before departing for his flight to Paris.

Dear y/n,

I loved Jurassic Park. I can’t believe I wasted so many years of my life not knowing this movie. Don’t hold back on the stickers. I’m sending you a copy of one of my favorite movies. It’s called Train to Busan. Try not to swoon too hard over Gong Yoo or I might get a little jealous.

Warmly,

Taeyong

You two exchanged letters frequently and after a few more months, you decided to meet up at the cafe right next to the shelter. Taeyong walked past the shelter, arriving early for your meet-up. He was thrilled to meet you and finally put a face to your name. He looked at the windows where adoptions were currently underway.

That was when he saw you.

And just like that everything flooded back to him. How you two already knew each other once. How you became friends and grew together. How you fell in love.

He ran into the shelter and called your name. “Y/n!”

You were answering a volunteer’s question when you heard someone call your name. When you turned to the person who called you, it all came rushing back to you. All of the memories. All of the love for him that you carried in your heart. 

“Taeyong…” Your eyes welled up.

You ran towards each other. You jumped into his arms, then. You laughed and cried together. You took a ten minute break to sit outside with Taeyong.

“I can’t believe it’s you…” He cried.

“Me neither...It’s been five years…”

“Five years...A year for every second it took for me to fall in love with you…” Geez, he thought, God was so unfair and so corny at the same time.

Five years without each other was too much for either of you to bear. You caught up on each other’s lives. Taeyong was shocked to find out you have a daughter. You were shocked that Taeyong was a human now.

But now this meant that you two could grow old together. Daisy could finally have a father. And you couldn’t wait to hold Ruby again.

…

[1 Year Later]

After a year of dating and getting to know each other again, you and Taeyong got married. Daisy and Taeyong adored each other. Ruby was happy to see you again and more than happy to welcome Daisy into her life. It was a beautiful union.

All of your friends were in attendance. Jisoo was weeping so hard. Jaehyun and his boyfriend Johnny were in attendance. Taeyong was shocked that it hadn’t been Jaehyun who claimed your heart after all this time. It turned out that Jaehyun was just a concerned friend. They became good friends.

You got married at the beach. You wore a stunning mermaid white gown. You walked down the aisle with a train decorated with white daisies. The white daisies translated to: “I love you truly.” Sicheng, a violinist, played his rendition of “All My Life” by K-Ci & JoJo. It was yours and Taeyong’s song.

Taeyong donned a black tuxedo. A daisy decorated his lapel. He nearly broke down in tears at how lovely you looked. You couldn’t help the huge smile on your face.

You recite your vows to each other. You started, “Taeyong, from the moment we first met...My life became tinted in shades of pinks and oranges again. I could see that the world could be beautiful. You helped me find happiness again. A happiness I didn’t know I needed until I met you. I adore you and will adore you even into the afterlife. Whatever happens, I will always be here for you. You have my heart. My everything. I cannot wait to spend our lives together with Daisy, Ruby, and our future children. I love you.”

Taeyong replied, “Y/n, you are my world. I found love in you. You are the light of my life. You made me a better person and you made me want to live and enjoy life. The world is beautiful because of you. I love you with all of my heart. I promise you that we will always be together. No matter what life...and the after life...will throw at us. I am yours. I will always be with you. My love. My darling y/n...I love our family. Daisy and Ruby, we love you so much. I cannot wait to raise our family together, y/n. I love you.”

Officiant Kun continued, “By the power vested in me by the State of Sweetwater, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Taeyong scooped you up and kissed you, earning applause from your friends and family.

A magical day of many. You two lived happily ever after.

Fin.

[red1culous]

Oh part 1

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

Standing in front of that imposing building you felt your resolve falter slightly. It looked as though nothing had changed in years. Even the grove of trees that lined the driveway, tall and graceful, seemed to be frozen in time.

One foot in front of the other, you coax yourself. 

You suck in a laboured breath and walk into the large courtyard stopping once again as you take in your surroundings. You had hoped to be able to come and go without notice but the gravel covering the courtyard was doing a great job in announcing your arrival. 

This is new, you think to yourself slightly amused at your naivety thinking things would have stood still just because you left.

You hadn’t been back in over a decade after that little incident and if anyone had told you you would be standing where you were right now, you would have laughed in their faces before smacking them across it. 

You walk through a smaller sylvan courtyard of blooming orange trees. In its centre you see a fish pond. Smiling you look into it and search for the red and gold koi you had put there when you built the pond as a birthday present for Tony. It swims up to the surface as if it recognises you and if it weren’t for the boxes you were lugging about you might have even bent down to poke at its mouth.

For a split second you consider turning around and walking, no, running away. Screw the freshly baked muffins that were precariously balanced on you. You could just head back to the shop and sell them off at half price. You didn’t need the huge commission that the Avengers had agreed to pay for them. No you definitely didn’t need it…

…you also definitely did not need your business partner chewing off your ear about passing off said commission. 

Think of all the rich people eating your food? you can hear her clawing voice bounce about in your head. 

In truth you knew that the Avengers could easily afford a better baker. The best pastry chefs this side of the globe would happily saw off their left foot to be able to cater for them. But Pepper rings your mobile phone, claiming she meant to actually dial the shop, to place an order…a significantly large one…one she knew you would not be able to resist.

“Shit…” you mumble under your breath seeing the cause of your stress marching towards you a huge smile on her face.

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” Pepper says holding onto your upper arms and leaning in to place air kisses on your cheeks.

“No of course not…it’s just…umm…” you stutter as your heart thumps so hard it rattles its ribcage.

“I know…it’s a little weird being back” she says hands still holding you in place as if she knew you were about to bolt right out of there.

You shrug chuckling a little. “It’s stupid isn’t it?” you adopt a wide smile which had always been effective when dealing with difficult customers.

“Don’t give me that look” she swipes at your chin, “and it’s not stupid either. Just so you know, we’re all on your side.” She adds giving you a sympathetic look and you calm slightly at her words. 

“Thanks Pep.”

“Ok you head in. I’ll meet you inside in a bit, you don’t mind do you? Tony ordered a grand piano and it’s just arrived…” she trails off.

“Sure, I know my way around” you say smiling as she squeezes your arms before letting you go. Of course you knew your way around. After all, this had been your home too for over 5 years. 

5 years of bliss with her. 

You mentally chide yourself. Nope, not gonna go back there. 

As you climb the white marbled steps that led to the main door of the mansion you steal a glance at the silent looming windows glinting in the early morning light. You hesitate a little seeing a shadow pass quickly across one of them. 

Shit. 

Shaking your head, yet again, you finally reach the large oak doors. The bright and zesty scent of your lemon muffins waft into the air and as you are about to ring the doorbell the solid doors open revealing a tanned and muscled man in a shirt way too small for his body.

“STEVEN!” you shout whisper as his face splits into a wide grin.

“Y/N! Wh-what are you doing here?” he almost engulfs you in a hug stopping at the very last moment realising your arms were occupied.

“I-I…umm, muffins?” you return his grin looking down at your packages.

His eyes widen a little before taking some of the boxes from you. He balances 3 with ease in one hand as he pulls you inside. “No I mean I knew we had ordered from you…,” he says walking with you towards the kitchen, “…but I thought you said you were going to send a runner or something.”

“Well I was but our regular guy called in sick” you say gently placing the boxes onto the kitchen island.

“Well isn’t that unfortunate” he eyes you winking when you catch his gaze.

You roll your eyes at him. “No Steve, it’s the very opposite of what you mean.”

“Oh come on Y/N,” he shuffles up beside you to bump your shoulder, “it’s been so long.”

“It has...but hey! I get to see you again!” you bump his shoulder back and he pretends like it hurts him. “Ok so these need to be consumed within 3 days…”

“Woah woah woah now…” he cuts you off, “…you’re talking like you’re about to leave.”

He gives you a sad pouting face. His crisply parted hair makes him look like a choirboy albeit a very well built one. You almost feel sorry for him. 

“Steve you know I don’t belong here” you say fingering the hem of your shirt.

Your answer seems to baffle him. He straightens up and stares at you for a moment narrowing his eyes slightly. “I’m skipping my morning run just to hang out with you, so you can at least spend some time with me.”

“Steve…” you protest before he cuts you off again.

He raises a hand in your face. “Not hearing any of it” he says grabbing yours and leading you out of the kitchen, “…we’re going to take a walk and you’re going to meet some of your family.” 

You knew there was no use arguing with him. The death grip he had on you meant that you couldn’t even try to make a dash for it. “Steve if she…” you add and he cuts you off. Third one in a row. This was getting ridiculous.

“Shh!” and that was final. He leads you into the giant library where that vapid painting by Albert Ryder still hung on the wall. You hated that massive eye sore and always wandered what Tony liked about it. You’d always pegged him for the colourful extravagant type and this painting was just so out of character.

“Sam! Look who’s here?” Steve’s voice bellows out interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes trail up the curving mahogany spiral stairs that Steve is looking at and onto another floor of bookcases that were bathed in sunlight pouring in through a round skylight on the ceiling. 

“OMG Y/N?!” Sam almost shrieks as he bounds down the steps at a dangerous pace to collect you in a massive bear hug. “What are you doing here?!” he adds still crushing you in his arms.

“I came with the cupcakes…” you giggle as he picks you up and twirls you around. “Th-They brought me as their plus one.”

He puts you down to really look at you as if committing you to memory. A large smile sits on his face. “I see the sass is still there?”

“It never really left, big guy” you raise an eyebrow smirking as he hugs you one more time. 

“Pleaseee tell me you’re here for the party?” he groans wrapping an arm around your shoulders looking at you hopefully. “Parties here have been so sad since you’ve been gone.”

You hum about to answer as out of nowhere two slender arms wrap around you. It knocks the wind out of you and you instinctively hug back letting the smell of cinnamon and spice invade your senses. “Wanda!” you yelp.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming” she squeals smacking you across the arm.

You giggle at her pout. “I didn’t know I was coming, malyshka.”

She grins at your use of the word. “Ok let’s go” she says to a chorus of groans. 

“Excuse me! You are not taking her any where!” Sam blurts out grabbing your free hand.

“Sorry guys but I found her first” Steve adds standing in front of you and placing an authoritative hand on your shoulder his fingernails biting into the flesh there. 

“Guys…” you cough nervously, “how about we take a walk…together” you say quietly and sigh in relief as everyone starts smiling and pestering you with questions again. 

I guess nothing’s really changed after all.

---

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb   @natasharomanoffismywife  @imnotasuperhero  @cybeleceto  @silverwing2522  @thelastavenger-3000  @peggycarter-steverogers  @rooskaya-yelena  @blackwidowromonoff  @lesbian-x-blackwidow  @nowthisisliving27   @izalesbean  @aaron-despair  @marvelfansince08love  @rileigh519   @wannabe-fic-reader  @hcartbyheart  @marvel-randomness  @thewitchandtheassassin  @username23345  @xixxiixx  @rebeliz777  @summergeezburr  @frostedfavesmain  @higherfurther-romanova​ @sapphicluxanna​

[celestialrry]

a little jealousy never hurt anybody, right?

6.7k

HIIHIHI this was requested by the lovely @angelsuestyles (their ask is in my recent posts!) ALSOOOO THANK YOU FOR 222 BILLION FOLLOWERS (∩˃o˂∩)♡ (not really but 222 :0 !!! I love all of you guys!! thank you, it literally means so much to me <<<<<333333) 

edit: I forgot to put this in here when I first posted but this IN NO WAY is hating on Camille at all (she's literally so hot PLS! she just inspired harry’s 2nd album so she worked for the story) and you guys shouldn’t hate on her either!!! 

summary: Y/N and Harry are idiots.

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and illusions to a boner ¨̮ ( I think that’s it...)

Y/N regrets quite a few things. 

Like that time when she took her senior photo and didn’t realize the small bit of concealer she had blended under her eyes would flash back so much. Or when she was being introduced to a set of twins and even though she had been completely sober that night, accidentally ended up kissing the both of them, not realizing who was who (she didn’t even remember who she wanted to kiss in the first place). And of course, she regrets somehow being able to put a check in one of those super specific love-cliche boxes.

It really wasn’t her fault for falling for Harry. How could she not? Ever since he asked her to join him on his sophomore tour after she played some guitar for his album, she knew there was no way to crawl out of the hole that had just been dug. All thanks to her her friend Sarah, who introduced the two at her intimate birthday party, just months before Harry started producing and writing for Fine Line. 

When an “Oh, shit! You’ll have t’show me sometime!” erupted from Harry after Sarah mentioned Y/N played guitar and even partnered with Mitch on a few projects of his own (that unfortunately, not even after Y/N’s begging, would never be released to the world), Y/N was sure that she would never end up showing Harry, and he was just being sweet. But when a few days later, Harry texted her explaining how he got her number from Sarah and asking if she could get together so he could hear her play, Y/N realized he had been serious, and well, the rest was history.

Harry had insisted she play for a track, then one became a few, then a few became practically the entire album, and soon Harry was talking about how “sick” it would be if she went on tour with them, and after arranging things with her uni and taking a leave from her job, she was ready.

Tour had no shortage of interesting moments, from the time Harry almost broke his ankle during rehearsal and tripping on the microphone wire (why he insisted it have a wire, Y/N had no idea) to Mitch getting really drunk after one show and blabbering on and on about British culture and how different it was from American culture, and YN was sure she’d never seen or heard him talk this much, but no one was complaining.

Y/N had found some sort of companionship in everyone on tour. Sarah had always been like a big sister to her, and the protective instinct really kicked in when they were in a different country, Y/N noticed. Charlotte was pretty new, just like Y/N was and they bonded quite fast over that, and their love for fashion they could never afford. Adam was more open and bubbly, and he took Y/N in like one of his own kids. She truly didn’t think being 23 was so different than everyone else being in their late 20′s and early 30′s but after being treated like a fragile puppy, she noticed that no one else felt the same as her-- she really wasn’t complaining though, it just meant she had all eyes looking out for her, and she kind of needed that to be honest.

Mitch practically became her older brother, and although he was a bit closed off and shy when they first met (which was a few weeks before Y/N met Harry) eventually he was joking around with just her, and teaching her new things on the electric guitar she hadn’t known before.

Finally, Harry. It would be an understatement to say Y/N and Harry got really close, really fast. He was always really good at making friends, but with Y/N it seemed they became great friends in a heartbeat. He opened up about almost everything, fame, missing home, his heartbreaks, his accomplishments, and everything in-between. Y/N did the same, told him how paying for uni was an absolute bitch (to which he offered to pay and she immediately turned him down), how her parent’s divorce impacted her own relationships (Harry had nodded in agreement with that), and about how being on this tour changed her life. By week 2 of tour, the two had become so close, even the fans had picked up on it just during their banter and contact during shows.

“They’re ‘shipping’ you guys,” Mitch had said, taking a sip of water backstage as everyone was gathered in the band’s dressing room. Harry was still getting dressed and ready, so it was everyone but him. “It’s quite cute, honestly.”

Y/N’s brow raised in confusion. “What- why? We act normal like we always do.” She pointed out, firm in her statement. A snort from Charlotte made Y/N turn her head to the strawberry-blonde and gape. “What? Do we- do we not act normal?” She asked, looking around at everyone, now flushing out of embarrassment. “You two act like you’re dating sometimes, love,” Sarah pointed out. “It’s nothing to worry about though, he’s just really affectionate, friends or partners, and we can tell you do too, so it’s inevitable that someone will mistake you guys for a couple.” 

“Mistake who for a couple?” A familiar voice asked, and everyone’s gaze wandered over to the door where Harry had walked in with his billowing dress shirt, and dress pants for the night. “You and Y/N.” Adam said, and Y/N’s head had snapped towards him to give him a death stare, but before her eyes could burn into his skull, her attention was dragged away by an arm draping across her shoulders and the dip of the couch next to her. She turned to look at him, and he gave her a soft smiled before squeezing her shoulder with his hand. “Makes sense, s’like we’re practically married.” 

“I’m waiting on a proposal.” Y/N said with a grin, and Harry smirked, pulling her in closer towards his body. “You’ll get one soon, pet, don’t worry.” The conversation had then shifted to Mitch and Sarah who were literally work-wife and husband, not yet anyways, but everyone knew he would ask her soon enough. Y/N always like this before shows, happy. Not that preforming and the adrenaline rush afterwards wasn’t enough, but everyone was always together, and she liked that a lot. 

She also liked how Harry’s arm had slid down from her shoulders to her waist and how his fingers splayed across her hip, how they gently squeezed, and how his thumb mindlessly ran up down across her skin. It wasn’t an overstatement to say that stayed on her mind the entire night.

。:°ஐ

Harry was always positively buzzing after a show. His narcissistic side loved it when everyone’s attention was on him for hours at a time, screaming his name and shouting their declarations of love.  He loved to be told how talented he was, how handsome he was, and how funny he was, it was safe to say he had a bit of a praise kink, if he’s being honest. But if it was even possible, he loved hearing it all from Y/N even more than the thousands of people in the crowd. He told himself many times that it was just because she cared about him, and he cared about her, and hearing praise from someone he knows and respects (not that he didn’t respect his fans) was just so much more fulfilling.  

So after every show when he’d rush offstage with he rest of his band, his attention always went to Y/N, waiting for her praise, and he always got it.  He, of course, complimented her back, and watching her smile was more than enough to keep him happy the rest of the night. This night had gone the same as all the others, an amazing show, running offstage, and hugs and kisses being thrown around like a beach ball at a rave. “That was awesome H, your whale seems to get better every time.” Y/N had commented, and he had attempted helplessly to keep his cheeks from flushing. “I’ve just got strong lungs, pet. Could never compare to your guitar playing though, the real star of the show. Don’t tell Mitch I said that.”

She waved off his compliment and laughed, pulling him into a soft hug with a soft kiss on the cheek that he was still thinking about when they made their way to a bar for the night. He couldn’t take it off of his mind, not even when there was a pretty blonde in front of him, her hand running flirtatiously over his arm and her smile as blinding as the sun had been earlier.

 Of course she was pretty, there was no way to deny it,  she just wasn’t as pretty as Y/N. No one was, not after he’d laid eyes on her and began using her beauty to determine everyone else’s attractiveness. 

So when his attention from the woman in front of him fades, he’s looking around for the familiar face that he can’t enough of. He meets Y/N’s eyes and immediately her own dart back to Charlotte, biting the inside of her cheek and praying he didn’t catch her staring at him with envy. 

Envy of the girl in front of him, who go to express her attraction towards Harry without hiding it, and not worrying about if he feels the same way or not, because of course he finds the girl in front of him attractive, who wouldn’t? 

It’s then, that Y/N starts to pity herself, physically and romantically. The partners she’s had before always seemed way too good for her, and she had never been the one to end it.  To say that destroyed her self-confidence in the long run would be an understatement. 

It wasn’t like she needed a partner to make her confident, no, she was perfectly capable of doing that on her own, but for the first time in a long, long time, Harry made Y/N feel really good about herself. Good about her personality, her humor, everything, because if someone she looked up to that much, if a man like Harry Styles wants to be friends with her? She thinks it just meant she was doing everything right.

So Y/N, in short, was jealous. So jealous and wound up by Harry showing attraction towards that girl, that everyone else seemed to notice she was a bit off. “Y/N, you okay?” Mitch asked from across the booth, his thick brows twisted in concern. “Hm?” She looked up from the wooden table beneath her to see everyone, sans Harry, looking at her with the most pitiful eyes she had ever seen, and god, did she feel disgusted. Disgusted that she had fallen so hard for a man she could never have, that everyone around her noticed and felt bad for her. 

“I’m fine, but I think m’gonna call it a night. I’m pretty tired after today’s show.” She said with a tight-lipped smile, hoping it would convince everyone that she was okay. Of course it didn’t though and Adam caught on. “Funny, I was about to say the same. I can’t stay up late like I used to anymore, wanna catch a taxi back?” He asked, and Y/N nodded with a real smile this time, albeit the fact it was small, because she really didn’t want to go back to the hotel alone, and Adam always knew what to say.

Sarah and Mitch slid out of the booth to let Adam out, and Y/N simply stood up on her side because she had the outside seat. Harry was supposed to sit next to her on the edge, but seeing as he went to the bar to grab everyone another round and then ended up talking to someone else, that didn’t happen. She slipped on her light beige coat and grabbed her purse, slinging it on her shoulder as Adam put on his jacket as well. When Y/N looked to the bar where she had last seen Harry, he was still standing there animately talking to the woman in front of him, dimples prominent in his rosy cheeks, and all she could do was hope he didn’t notice the two of them slip out as they made their way to the door.

Alas, Y/N could never be that lucky.

“Hey! Where are y’guys going?” 

Y/N and Adam turned around at the sound of his voice and that was when Adam went in full protective mode, slinging his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and pulling her in closer. She made a note in her head to thank him immensely when they escaped this bar. 

“Heading out for the night, we’re both pretty pooped.” Adam explained, eyes darting from Y/N to Harry who now stood in front of them, his own eyes darting from Y/N to Adam then back to the girl who was now avoiding eye contact at all costs. 

“Oh, alright then. Are- Y/N are you okay?” He asked softly and only then did her eyes meet his own. “Yes, I’m fine. I feel like such a baby when I’m around you guys.” She joked, her lips curling into a small smile. 

Adam chuckled at that and so did Harry, but Y/N could tell the curly headed one was still concerned. “Well we gotta catch a cab, so…” She trailed off, her thumb poking back to the door. 

“O-okay,” Harry nodded. “Get back safe, yeah? Have a good night.” He said in parting and Y/N and Adam both nodded, wishing him the same before turning back around and pushing through the door. Harry watched the two of them leave, and his stomach bounced around in an odd way. 

The cold air whipped across the duo’s faces, and and Adam rubbed Y/N’s shoulder comfortingly as he hailed a cab. They didn’t talk until they were settled in the back and Adam told the driver the destination. “Wanna tell me what’s up? Cause I’m not gonna bother you anymore when we get to the hotel.”

She smiled at him and scoffed a bit before trilling her lips, a soft noise releasing from her mouth at the movement. “Um,” She began, running her hands through her hair. “I’m pretty sure you already know.” 

At her words, Adam just raised a brow at her. “What? You guys all looked at me like someone just killed my puppy back there!” She defended, raising her hands. “Okay, fine, fine. It won’t help if you keep all your emotions bottled in though, you know?” 

“Yeah,” She sighed. “I know.”

After getting back up to her room, doing her nightly routine (which really was just her washing her face, brushing her teeth, and changing into the t-shirt Harry gave her a few weeks ago and her Spongebob decorated fluffy pajama shorts that she got in college as a joke but really ended up being her favorite item of clothing she owned, other than Harry’s shirt, of course) she slipped into bed and began scrolling on her phone. 

Only what felt like 15 minutes later, a knock on her door broke Y/N out of the trance she was in and she sighed a bit, pulling the covers back and grumbling as she made her way to the door, annoyed at whoever was behind it-oh.

Harry looked at her as she swung the door open for him and he immediately grinned. “Hi, love.”She could never stay mad at him. “Hey, H.” She smiled at him, still a bit confused. “What’s up?” He ran a hand thorough his hair and retained eye contact with her, before speaking. 

“Sleepover?” 

She nodded and let him in, and immediately he went to her suitcase without a word, pulling out some her biggest sweatpants and stripping to his boxers, slipping the joggers on and keeping his shirt off. Y/N suddenly was reminded of all of Harry’s tattoos she knew none of the meanings behind. 

Sleepovers were common with the two of them, and they always occurred in Harry’s suite, Y/N on the way too comfortable couch, and Harry guiltily on the bed even though she insisted she take the couch because “We can’t have your back hurting when you preform!” And he couldn’t say no when she also said “Please?” and looked at him with those soft eyes. 

So now it was a bit different, being in her room, because 1, there was only one bed that they would both consequently end up sleeping on, and 2, Y/N and Harry’s feelings had both developed a bit further than friendly (although neither knew about the other’s).  

She hesitantly crawled back into her bed and patted at the area right beside her, which Harry quickly traveled over to, lifting his side of the comforter and pulling it over the both of them while Y/N leaned over to the night-stand and grabbed the T.V. remote. She plopped back into the pillows and started scrolling through random channels, trying to find a decent movie for the two of them to fall asleep to. 

All the while, Harry was attempting to look at the T.V. but the light was shining on her face in a way that just made her look so pretty, not that she wasn’t always pretty, but she seemed to always look the best when she was in her natural state, no makeup, no nice clothes, it was just all so domestic and the feeling overwhelmed him when he realized he wanted to be the one to see her like this every night.

Her eyes darted from the T.V. over to her right where Harry was curled up in the covers, and she could feel the burn of his eyes on her. Now that really didn’t help with her insecurities, and as she continued switching through the channels she found herself burying under the covers more and more.  Soon, she landed on a stupid rom-com that she’s seen a few times before but she never really knows what it’s about because her attention gets easily dragged away from it.

She puts the remote back on the table and flips back around to be face to face with Harry, who was now looking at her with furrowed brows. “Why’re you burying yourself under the covers?” He asked with a frown, and she lulled her head away from him then back, biting the inside of her cheek. “M’just a bit cold.” 

His brows raised because he knew full well it wasn’t cold at all in this room, in fact it was quite hot, but he didn’t want to deal with her lying and thinking she could get away with it, so he pulled the covers off of himself, which actually cooled him off a good amount and piled them all on top of her. “Hey!” She cried out, muffled by the fabric on top of her. “M’hot, so I figured you could have my covers.” 

He heard a bit of grumbling and the covers were flung off of the bed entirely in a few seconds, Y/N sitting up and leaning on her arms breathing a bit heavy and turning to Harry with a stink in her eye. He just flashed his signature cheeky grin and she grabbed her pillow and hit him over the head before placing it back and pulling the sheets over her body. 

“Ow! You fucker.”

。:°ஐ

 Harry was sure about a lot of the things he did. 

Like when One Direction split up, he didn’t remain in constant contact with the boys, and while it was difficult at first,  they all needed a break, and it just made it so much better when they met up to hang out again. Or when him and Camille both decided it was for the best that they break up and they remain friends to this day. And of course, he was sure about bringing Y/N on tour. 

She was possibly one of the best people he had ever worked with, and one of the best friends he’s ever had. He was sure about getting close with her, and he was sure about keeping her close. Only, now keeping her close meant keeping her arms length apart, because if he got any closer he wouldn’t be able to handle being with her any closer than a few little touches and hugs and cheek and forehead kisses, not when he couldn’t have her. 

So it was safe to say when he opened his eyes the next morning with Y/N flung over him, her leg between his own, her arm wrapped around his chest with her face pressed into the junction of his shoulder and neck, and her warm soft breaths hitting his bare skin, making goosebumps pimple, he freaked out. 1, because friends did NOT cuddle like this, and 2, the close contact was making his chest clench and his lower abdomen heat up. 

He let out a shaky breath and thanked his lucky stars Y/N was a deep sleeper, and slowly slid out from under her, ignoring how his arms were wrapped around her and his hands were touching her bare skin where her shirt (his shirt really, and that just made it about a billion times worse) had ridden up in the night. As he was pulling his torso from her body after getting his legs out, she let out a whine and her grip on his back tightened. 

His heart beat wildly fast, so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if he looked down and saw it moving through his skin, and he stilled, terrified that she was awake. A few minutes went by, and she didn’t stir anymore, so after chalking her movements up to a dreaming Y/N, he moved a hand and gently took her soft hand off of his bare skin, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

Finally he’s out of bed, and slipping on the clothes he wore the night before, folding the sweats he borrowed and putting them back in her suitcase.  He grabs his phone off the other side table Y/N never used and reaches her door, making the terrible mistake of looking back. Y/N’s face is smushed into the pillow he put under her head, her lips sightly open as she slept and her arms now curled around the pillow Harry had used last night, and he would swear on his mum’s life that she was breathing in his scent if not for the fact that he was certain she didn’t like him the way he liked her, and he didn’t want to barter his mum’s life on something so uncertain. 

His chest clenched for what felt like the billionth time this morning and even if he didn’t know it then, he had already decided that he couldn’t handle this anymore, whatever this was, and began to push the sleeping girl out of his mind and heart, in order to save himself from future heartbreak.

 。:°ஐ

When Y/N woke up, her bed was empty, and she had never felt akin to a bed until that morning. 

。:°ஐ

The last time Harry really spoke to Y/N was the night he slept over.

It had been a little over a month since then, and she was trying really hard not to let it get to her, but seeing as Harry interacted just fine with everyone else, and his problem seemed to be with just Y/N, she couldn’t help the nagging feeling that she had somehow scared him off. 

A week after he slept over, the only times he spoke to her were for performances and work-related things, and her mind had been swarming with questions. Did she say something about him, or to him while she was sleeping? Sure, she had a dream about him, but it wasn’t anything dirty (although that had happened a few times before), they were just at a carnival and there was a ride in which they got to fly, it was quite fun. Did she cuddle him too much? Sure she could be really touchy when she’s tired, but so can Harry if his wandering hands (only in appropriate places) when they had movie nights were anything to go by.

So her questions went unanswered, and her attempts to speak with him were fruitfully ignored, whether that be he pretends he didn’t hear her the first time, or if he excuses himself before answering because he had to talk to someone about something. 

Everyone else in the band noticed, and Y/N didn’t know it, but everyone at tried to talk to Harry about it at least once. Adam mentioned how Y/N and Harry seemed to have drifted apart and Harry only hummed in agreement, making it obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. Charlotte had asked Harry if he was doing okay, to which he responded “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” And she didn’t feel like it was her place to tell him that Y/N had come to her crying about Harry’s actions, or lack thereof, towards her and she didn’t know what was wrong. Sarah was blunt with Harry, telling him how it was obvious Y/N and him weren’t speaking and asking what had happened to which Harry shrugged it off and told her that “people grow apart”, and it wasn’t anything personal.  Mitch had tried to the same, to no avail, despite being even more blunt than everyone else.

And that led them here, 15 minutes before Harry’s second, and last night in L.A. on his tour before they head to New York. He was quite looking forward to it, excited to see the few friends who couldn’t make it the night before. It was easy, going out with people after the performance, not having to think about Y/N as he drinks the night away. 

He looked in the mirror in front of him, patting the invisible dust off of his pearl adorned blazer and pants, the wife-beater under his coat so thin his tattoos could be traced. Usually after he was dressed he would pop into the band’s dressing room just to shake off the nerves beforehand, but he stopped doing that after he began to push himself away from Y/N. There would be no where else to sit but next to her, and that didn’t help his overwhelming need to hold her.  So instead, he made his way to the couch in his room, relaxing for the few minutes he had.

Y/N on the other hand was sitting in the dressing room with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte, and Adam, all conversing about how ready they were, the energy in L.A. the night before had been off the charts, and they were more than excited to feel it again. All Y/N could think about, however, was that this just meant there was one more show to play, then tour would be over, and there would be no more reason to be in Harry’s band. Not when he clearly didn’t want to be friends with her anymore, and she thinks this is the worst she’s ever felt in a long, long time. 

。:°ஐ

The first part of the show goes really well. Harry is hyping up the audience, and everyone is smiling. “She” was the next song they were to play after Harry stopped interacting with the audience and Y/N was excited. It was one of her favorite songs to play, and she loved just stopping and listening when Mitch did his solo. He usually did the more detailed guitar work, while Y/N worked with the backing chords. 

“Alright, the next song we’ll be playing is “She”, let’s make sure not to get Mitch’s ego too high afterwards though.” Harry had laughed into the mic, walking back to the stand and clicking the mic into place. Then, it began. It was good, it really was, until Y/N noticed that Harry had faltered a bit in the chorus, and her eyes followed his own to the blonde hair in the VIP section. It was her, Camille, the muse behind this entire album.  Her heart stuttered as she noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was gorgeous, prettier than all of the pictures she’s seen.

And Harry was looking only at her in the crowd.  It was then, that Y/N started to go a bit haywire. He began to sing the chorus, and she guesses her fingers held the pick a bit tighter, and strummed bit harder, because after 10 seconds of playing she realized she could no longer hear his voice. Almost immediately did she soften the strumming and look up to see Harry turn to face her, confusion and anger, maybe, written all across his face.  She ignores it and continues to play until the song is over. She’s not listening when the crowd cheers, but she regrets tuning in when Harry introduces the next song on the set list, how he says that it’s possibly one of his favorites, and meet’s his ex’s eyes when he starts to play Cherry.

It’s then that Y/N breaks. She keeps her eyes down, and her strumming quiet, just incase she falters (which she does about 2 times), and when her mouth moves up to sing the backing vocals she realizes that her eyes are welling up and her throat is closing in.  She closes her mouth and continues to play the guitar, missing Harry’s look back at her, and the rest of the band’s attempt to conceal the fact that she had stopped singing in the middle of the verse. 

The rest of the show goes on, and her tears are held back when they all wave goodbye, and when they rush offstage, and when Harry’s hand brushes her arm that she’s sure was a mistake (it wasn’t), and they continue to be held back until she bursts into the unisex restroom just a mere 20 feet away from the dressing rooms. She locks herself in a stall and sits on the closed toilet seat, shaking hands covering her face as she chokes on her sobs, knowing she would never be enough for Harry, thinking about how he want’s nothing to do with her, and how big of a mistake she made going on tour with them, because if she didn’t, then she wouldn’t have fallen in love with Harry, and she wouldn’t be feeling this way. 

What feels like hours, but was actually just 15 minutes of her crying all the tears she could cry, she decided it was better to mope in her own hotel room rather than in a public place where anyone could walk in. She steps out of the stall and doesn’t bother looking in the mirror, only washes her hands, then rinses her face, patting it dry with a cheap brown paper towel. She crumples it up and tosses it in the trashcan, walking out of the restroom to see Harry outside of his dressing room, his arms wrapped around Camille in an intimate embrace. 

Intruding would be a good word to describe how she felt right then, and quickly did she speed walk the other way, trying not to let any more tears fall as she opens the door to the bands dressing room to see Sarah and Mitch packing up her things. One look at her was all it took to break the dam that held her tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand, her head falling down and her other arm wrapping around her stomach, maybe it would make things better.

 Sarah quickly hands Mitch Y/N’s bag that held her sweats, sweatshirt, purse, and phone she brought to the venue, and takes the girl into a much needed embrace. She cried into Sarahs chest for a bit, snotty apologies from Y/N that Sarah waved off, insisting it was okay, and that she would be okay.

After calming her down a bit and receiving a hug from Mitch, she takes her bag and walks into one of the privacy divider boxes, changing into the clothes she would wear tomorrow on the flight, and tonight to sleep in. Mitch and Sarah lead her out of the venue with all of their arms locked, and bring her to the car, the hotel, and lastly her room.

“We’re right next door, if you need anything. Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?” Sarah asked, biting her lip in anxiousness. Y/N shook her head, her puffy eyes hurting from the movement. “No, I’m gonna be okay. Thank you- um, can-can you not tell anyone? I just-”

“Of course we won’t tell anyone,” Mitch interrupts her, making sure she won’t start crying again, because if there’s something he wants least, it’s to see her cry. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?” 

Y/N nods, and they all hug and part with declarations of love and goodnight’s.

。:°ஐ

Harry just arrived at the hotel after a quick late dinner with Camille at her flat, catching up and eating some really good Chinese take-out. It was always good seeing her, they weren’t super close anymore of course, she had a new boyfriend now, he was there too actually, a really fine lad that he thinks Camille deserves, but he enjoyed getting to see her with no bad-blood.  

So the night was going good, other than Y/N’s weird guitar mishap and her faltering voice during the show, that he couldn’t stop thinking about. 

Well, it was going good, until Mitch called him after Harry sent him a text talking about how he was back at the hotel, and told him that he was really stupid. Told Harry that Y/N seemed really hurt earlier, and how he thinks that Harry ignoring her caught up to her. Of course, Mitch knew it was partially untrue, but to remain loyal to Y/N he couldn’t tell Harry why she was so upset, and exactly how upset Y/N really was. 

Upon hearing this, Harry’s mood deflated and he rushed to Y/N’s hotel room, knocking a few times with a soft “It’s me, Harry.” through the door. Y/N heard it, but there was no way in hell she would open the door for him, so she feigned sleep and hoped he wouldn’t attempt to wake her up. “Are you awake, love?” No answer. “Pet?” No answer. “Okay, well, I just wanted to talk to you, um, but we can do that tomorrow, I-um, I’m sorry.” 

He left, after that, leaving her to curl up in her covers alone, tears leaking from her eyes.

The next morning was anything but fun, they were to wake up at 6 and catch the 7:30 AM flight from L.A. to New York.  Of course, everyone one in the band and a few others got first class, while the rest of the crew rode on Harry’s rented private jet, to hold all the equipment that wasn’t provided at the venue. 

So this meant that Y/N and Harry would have to be stuck in the same cabin of a plane together for about 5 and a half hours. Luckily they weren’t designated to sit next to each other, but Harry had other plans. 

He switched tickets with a hesitant Charlotte and got the aisle seat, where Y/N would have the window seat. He got on first, and got settled in,  biting his lip in nerves, he wasn’t really sure how he would be able to explain away all of his actions to her, but he knew that he had to, he didn’t want to loose Y/N.

Y/N stepped onto the plane, flashing a fake smile at the flight attendant who obviously noticed her puffy eyes and frowning face. Her eyes darted from the row number and seat letter to the ones on the top of the cabin, and when she found the matching pair of seats, there he was, in all his sweatpants-sweatshirt covered glory. 

Her mouth opened to tell him she didn’t want to sit next to him, but when he looked up at her with a soft smile, all she could do was close her lips and sigh, squeezing past him to plop down in the seat with the window. 

He didn’t try to speak to her, and she did the same, but he really wanted to. Wanted to ask her how she was, what she had been doing when they stopped talking (or when he stopped talking to her), if her Mom was still working at the job she wanted to quit or if she finally did it, if she still wanted to get a cat when tour was over, but he just couldn’t. 

He had no idea where to even start, does he talk to her, then hope the conversation will lead to a place where he can apologize, or does he just apologize straight up, but have no explanation as to why he hurt her in the first place.

The internal battle lasted until they landed, when they got off the plane, traveled to the hotel, and when they went to their respective suites.

Y/N considered herself lucky that Harry had decided to not speak to her on the flight. That wouldn’t have given her an option to opt out of the conversation, and she knew he was smarter than that.  She didn’t know however, that when she opened the door to her hotel room after a hasty knock, expecting another member of the band, that Harry would be standing in front of it, his eyes widened in anxiety. 

“Wh-”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, interrupting her and walking past her into her room that she hadn’t invited him into. “I’m so sorry for ignoring you, and-and not talking to you when you tried to talk to me. You didn’t deserve it, I’m sorry.”

Her brows raised in surprise and she shut the door behind him, staying near the entrance.  As her mouth opened to accept the apology, her mind raced through how she had been feeling the past month and instead she said, “It’s been a fucking month Harry, I-I thought everything was fine, and then one day you just decided to cut me out?”

“I know,” He stepped closer to her, guilt rushing through him. “I know, it was stupid of me, and I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t even know what to say. You wouldn’t even look at me on the flight and I-“

He was interrupted by her walking up and pushing her finger against his chest. “I wouldn’t talk to you?” She scoffed, tears brimming her eyes. “I-what did you expect after you pushed me away for a month, no warning, no reason-”

“Of course I had a reason!” Harry raised his voice, eyes watery as well.  “I fucking love you! That’s why, and-and we were getting too close than friends should, and I couldn’t handle not being with you.”

Silence. 

“Fuck, Y/N I’m so sorry-mmph!”

His apology was silenced by her lips on his, and his eyes widened as he realized what was happening.  They fluttered closed, and his arms wrapped around her torso, while her hands were placed on his cheeks and wowthiswasreallyhappeningandhewasn’tdreamingwashedreamingnohewasn’t-

Y/N pulled away with a deep breath in and laughed a bit, her forehead resting against his. “If you didn’t catch on with that, I love you too.” 

Harry laughed and cheekily grinned, pulling her even closer than she was before. “Really? I’m not sure I got it, can you help me understand a bit more?”

She swatted his chest and kissed him once more. “Cheeky bastard.” 

[wanderinginksplot]

Wrecker x Homesick Reader (Part Two!)

A continuation of this ex-one-shot, but you can probably pick up everything you need to know from context.

Wrecker x f!reader: hint of romance toward the end

Word Count: 2,300 ish

Warnings: none

---

You stood outside of the infamous Havoc Marauder, staring up at the ship with nerves tingling in your stomach.

Okay, coming here had seemed like a fine idea when Wrecker suggested it. Last night, it had even seemed like it might be fun. Added to Wrecker's promise that Tech would amp up the power and reach of your comlink? You had agreed to be here without a second thought.

Now, this finally seemed like a bad idea. The Marauder was looking rough after Clone Force 99's latest crash-landing, you had no idea if Wrecker had spoken to Tech on your behalf, and you hadn't even seen Wrecker that day. Plus, stupid as it sounded even in your own thoughts, you had never actually walked up to a ship without being expected. Were you supposed to knock? Shout? Should you just wait and hope they saw you?

As you stood, undecided, you thought seriously about going back to your quarters. If you were having second thoughts about this, Wrecker probably was, too. It would probably be best for everyone if you just left…

But then hydraulics hissed and the doors opened and the stairs attached to the ship dropped down. Tech appeared in the doorway, peering at you.

"You are the one Wrecker invited here, correct?"

"Uh. Correct?" you answered doubtfully. "He told me you might be able to help me with my comlink."

"Of course I can help you," Tech replied, his casual confidence making you quirk an eyebrow. He lifted his head to glance at the sky for a moment. "You'll have to come onboard the ship, however. The light conditions out here are too intense for such detailed work."

"Yeah, sure," you agreed, following him inside.

The Havoc Marauder was a smaller ship than the ones you had gotten used to at your time at Spearpoint Outpost. Of course, that may have been because a sheet hanging from the ceiling separated the entrance and cockpit from the rest of the living area, but you understood and respected the need for privacy. Four men living in such close quarters probably tried to keep things as separated as possible.

With that in mind, you resisted the urge to peek behind the truly giant sheet to see the Bad Batch's bunk space. Instead, you followed Tech up to the front of the Marauder. To your surprise, Sergeant Hunter was also in the small area. Remembering his keen senses and reluctance to be too close to other people, you stopped immediately.

"Do you want me to wait outside?" you offered. "I don't mind."

"Nah, come on in," Hunter invited. "I'm just doing some maintenance checks. Go ahead and sit down, though. I don't want to risk us clashing heads if either of us moves the wrong way."

You watched the sergeant for a moment to see if he was joking. The two of you weren’t even close to the same height, so several things would need to go wrong before you worried about bumping heads. You thought you saw an amused glitter in his dark eyes, but you had already begun turning toward the co-pilot's seat.

Tech sat down in the other seat. "Don't panic," he said bracingly, and he had ripped the cover off of your comlink before you had time to ask what he meant. Despite the warning, you still flinched at the noise of your comlink being broken.

You watched him in silence for a few long minutes, engrossed in the minute details of his work.

"Wrecker mentioned that you need this range increase to speak with your friends," Tech said, his quiet voice making you jump in the silence of the ship.

"My family, actually," you corrected.

You realized that the quiet sounds of Hunter working in the cabin behind you had stopped. You glanced back in his direction and he began fiddling with some exposed wires again.

"Where are you from?" Tech asked. "I'm certain Wrecker mentioned it before, but I cannot remember a place."

Wrecker talked about you? Feeling unreasonably warmed by that, you answered, "Bespin. Cloud City."

"Supposed to be beautiful there," Hunter said behind you.

"It is," you agreed readily. "Especially the sunrises. Or the sunsets, really. There are always clouds, so on a good day, the sun reflects off the water until the air is filled with more rainbows than there are stars in the sky."

"Impossible," Tech started, but Hunter cut him off.

"You must miss it. Sounds like you left a lot behind to be here."

You shrugged. "Not as much as some. Still, this was the right thing to do. I don't regret my choices."

Tech worked in silence for a while after that, doing something complex to the electrical components of the comlink.

Eventually, he said, "I've heard Bespin has odd customs. Parents often let their children form romantic relationships at early ages and people are encouraged to remain with those partners."

You didn't answer that and Tech glanced up at you questioningly. His fingers didn't stop manipulating the micro-spanner. The comlink sparked loudly and you grimaced. You hadn't even known a comlink could do that.

"Don't you need to… you know, concentrate?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice polite. You couldn't really afford a new comlink right now, and even when you could, a new communicator would take forever to arrive somewhere as remote as Spearpoint.

Rather than look back at the comlink, Tech's eyes slid over to where Hunter stood behind you, silent once more. Before you could turn as well, Tech’s gaze was back on the small device.

Sudden realization flashed through your mind. Tech's questions, Hunter's halting work on the Marauder… They were testing you. This was an interview to see if you were good enough for Wrecker.

You had always been excellent at interviews.

You sat straighter in the chair, dropping the tension from your shoulders as you fixed Tech with a sincere smile.

"You're thinking of Bespin as it was a thousand years ago," you told Tech, satisfied when he looked up at you with surprise half-hidden behind his goggles. "Those traditions were from before we had stable hover-lifts to keep cities at even elevation levels. It would be too difficult to re-identify a city that had dropped, risen, or otherwise changed locations. Young adults were encouraged to find someone they considered a potential romantic partner and share a dwelling before they lost each other forever."

"I…" Tech blinked. "I was unaware."

"We have a lot of legends about it," you said kindly. "Some of them are very widespread, so it isn't surprising you would have found one. I can recommend a good holotext about how we got to a more uniform elevation level and the shift to a more standard form of courtship. If you're interested, of course."

"I am extremely interested," Tech assured. "Have courtship rituals on Bespin changed, then?"

You shrugged. "Probably as much as those of any society that has been inhabited as long as Bespin. I wouldn't know a lot, personally. My first relationship wasn't until I had gone to college on Alderaan, and it certainly wasn’t with anyone from Bespin.”

Tech hummed quietly at that, refocusing his attention on your comlink. You waited to see what his next question would be, but the only noise in the cockpit was the sound of approaching footsteps.

You turned to find Crosshair stepping through the doorway. You managed a smile - not that it was appreciated or returned by the scowling trooper - but started to get anxious again. Where is Wrecker? Surely he hadn’t decided that you were more trouble than you were worth. If he had, why would his brothers be interrogating you?

Tech cleared his throat. “Did you stay on Alderaan long-?”

“You’re the one who spends so much time with Wrecker,” Crosshair said, staring at you. You nodded rather than risk displaying your nervousness in your voice. Crosshair grimaced. “Why?”

“Why… what?” you asked, utterly confused by his question.

“Well, most people find him irritating,” Crosshair pointed out, folding his arms across his lean chest. “Don’t you?”

“Never,” you replied instantly, your voice a bit too passionate for such a small space. “Wrecker is sweet and funny and cares more about others than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s amazing. If some people think he’s irritating, that’s their loss.”

Crosshair inclined his head at you before turning back toward the large sheet separating the living quarters from the cockpit. “There you go; an honest opinion.”

You blushed scarlet as the sheet dropped to reveal Wrecker. Apparently, the biggest Bad Batcher had been holding it in place pressed against the ceiling. You were marveling at that for a few precious seconds, but Wrecker had already moved on.

Beaming at you, Crosshair, and anyone else who bothered to look in your direction, Wrecker cheered, “Great!”

“Subtle, Crosshair,” Hunter said lowly.

Crosshair shrugged. “He wanted to know, and you and Tech were taking too long.”

“So,” Wrecker started, rubbing at the back of his neck as he moved to stand in front of you. Well, he was standing behind the copilot seat, really. The cockpit was crowded with you and every member of Clone Force 99 sharing the space. “I was thinking, maybe-”

“I am finished,” Tech announced, pushing past Wrecker to claim your full attention. He presented you with your comlink and, ignoring Wrecker’s huff of annoyance, proceeded to explain exactly what he had done to the device and how it should work.

You did your best to pay attention, but it was tricky with the other members of the Bad Batch standing in the background. Wrecker, understandably, looked frustrated. Crosshair was far too amused as someone watching one of his brothers accidentally torment another one. Hunter was the one really keeping an eye on the situation. When Tech had finally started to repeat an earlier point, Hunter interrupted.

“Tech, I need your help with one of the sensors in the rear deflector shield,” Hunter said, drawing Tech away slightly. “I’ve fixed the problem and reset the sensor, but it’s still registering as a bug in the system-”

As Hunter and Tech moved further away, Crosshair gave a sardonic salute and slouched off as well. You and Wrecker were alone for the first time, and he moved to sit down in the other pilot’s chair.

Sitting down, Wrecker seemed much less physically imposing. He was an undeniably large man, but at least you were almost the same height sitting down. Well, sort of the same height. Okay, not really the same height at all, but closer than when you were both standing.

Wrecker sat extremely upright in his chair as he started to speak. “Okay, now that they’re finally gone, I wanted to ask: would you maybe think about having dinner with me tonight? Here? I’ll get rid of the guys and we can have anything you want and I already cleaned just in case you said yes, but if you say yes, I’ll clean again just to make sure it’s really clean-”

“Wrecker!” you said laughingly, holding up your hands as if to stifle the stream of words. “I would be glad to have dinner with you. Thank you for asking me. It already looks clean in here, so please don’t feel like you need to go to any trouble.”

“That’s great!” Wrecker enthused after he had sat staring at you for a solid 20 seconds. He opened his arms. “Hug?”

“I’d love one, thanks,” you accepted gratefully, sliding forward until you left your chair.

Wrecker didn’t even give you a chance to stand all the way before he had wrapped you in another warm, squeezing embrace. You returned it as well as you could, but he pulled back sooner than he had the night before. You raised a curious eyebrow at him, but Wrecker gently disentangled himself from you and settled you back on your own seat.

“Actually, I have something else I need to say, and you need to be over there so you can be comfortable.” You raised both eyebrows at that, as well as at the sincere expression on Wrecker’s scarred face.

He avoided your eyes, but said it anyway: “I want to be more than friends. I… like you, but more than that. You know? Maybe you don’t. But I just wanted to make sure you knew that I would be happy to be your friend. If all you want is to be my friend, I think that’s great and I’m excited to be part of your new family here. Ugh, I’m messing this all up…”

You moved closer again, grabbing Wrecker’s hand as you did. “Wrecker, I’m glad you like me as more than a friend. It’s- That’s how I feel about you, too.”

“Really?” Wrecker breathed, definitely the quietest tone you had ever heard him use.

His eyes were lit up with hope and you smiled as you confirmed, “Really. But I haven’t dated a lot of people and I get the feeling it might be the same for you? So maybe we should take things slow.”

“That sounds amazing,” Wrecker agreed. “So should we reschedule dinner for another time?”

You smiled softly, hoping it didn’t come off condescending. “We don’t need to move that slowly, not if you’re comfortable with us having dinner together. I would like for us to be friends, too.”

“So it’s okay if I do this?” Wrecker asked, pulling your linked hands up to brush a kiss on the back of your hand.

It was such a simple, innocent gesture, but you had to fight a blush as you nodded. “It’s definitely okay if you do that.”

The pair of you grinned at each other like fools for an embarrassingly long time before you remembered a line you should draw. “Just please don’t leave me alone with your brothers again. They’re terrifying when they’re trying to look out for you.”

“I promise,” Wrecker said sincerely. “Though they like you, if that helps.”

“Thank goodness for that,” you murmured, glancing through the Marauder’s viewport to find Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair watching the two of you with knowing smirks.

---

A/N - All of the stuff about Bespin was invented by me. I know it's not correct, but it was fun to write and I have no regrets! Thanks for reading! Feel free to check out other works on my masterlist or make a request!

[babybluebex]

not your duke [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: prince!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 2.7k ➽ summary: at the dawn of the new century, you meet two men: one, your betrothed, and the other, a prince with a secret.  ➽ warnings: explicit language, gothic era shit bc i live for that ➽ a/n: many thanks to the loml @earthlyholland​ for coming up with the title and urging me to finish writing this i luv u kiss 

Nothing had ever drawn you into London. In fact, you were staunchly opposed to the idea when your father first told you that you were moving. What was the point of it? You knew that your father could conduct business as easily from the States as from England, but what’s done is done. You had lived in London for a short time, only a few months, before you realized the real reason why your father relocated you. 

You met your fiancé at a party. London was known for its aristocracy, and your father’s banking business had put him in high regard with many of the British elite, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were invited to a New Years party. “The Osterfields,” your father told you. “I’m told they have a son only just older than you.” 

“Really?” you asked, looking out the window, hardly curious. “His name?”

“Harrison,” your father told you. The carriage bumped along the street, and you swayed with it. “The Honourable Harrison Osterfield of Kingston.” 

“Of course he’s noble,” you muttered. “Father, will you ever stop trying to marry me off?” 

“Your younger sister is already married,” your father reminded you. “If it’s not soon, it’ll never happen. And Sir Harrison is a perfectly agreeable gentleman.” 

“Agreeable to you,” you scoffed. 

“He’s an Oxford-educated man,” your father pressed. “Well-read, which I know is something you covet. I’m told he’s a good conversationalist as well; I guess you’ll be able to judge that for yourself tonight.” 

You cried out in opposition. “Father! Am I to meet Little Lord Fauntelroy tonight?” 

“Watch your tongue, girl. You are to meet your fiancé tonight.” 

The New Years party hosted by the Baron and Baroness Osterfield was what you expected, a lush spectacle of champagne and pleasing music and perfume. It wasn’t the sort of place that you usually found comfort at, but you tried your best; the Baron Osterfield was a close business partner of your father’s, and you couldn’t afford to muck everything up by having a foul attitude. “Lord Osterfield,” my father began, placing a hand on my back to usher me into his conversation. “Might I introduce my daughter?” 

The man before you was older, his fair hair tinged with a bit of grey, but he was dressed wonderfully in his tails and a red tie. “Pleasure to meet you, miss,” he said in a sonorous voice. “You’re the lass that’s engaged to our Haz, yes?”

“So I’ve been told,” you smiled, and your father sent a warning pinch to your back through your dress. Attitude, you could hear him scolding you. 

“Have you met him yet?” Lord Osterfield asked. “He’s a strapping lad; running around with his uni mates, I’m sure.” He looked around the room, bustling with activity, and he made a quick motion with his hand when he spotted someone across the room. 

The space before you was suddenly filled by a young man, still older than you, blond hair and green eyes, a wonderful smile on his face and his cheeks blushed. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you, and he took your hand in a gentle but strong hold. “Hello, madam,” he said cordially. “I’m called Harrison. Haz, to most.” 

“Haz,” you repeated slowly. “I’d rather keep with Lord Osterfield, if that pleases you.” 

“Of course, madam,” Harrison said. “Might I interest you in a turn about the garden? It’s such a lovely night.” 

You looked to your father for permission, and he patted your back with a nod. Harrison saw this and gave a smile, and you hooked your arm with his as he led you out into the cold December night. Harrison’s body was warm and you found yourself moving into him, and he finally stopped at a metal bench along the path. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Harrison asked, settling himself onto the bench. 

You shrugged. Harrison took that to mean “No”, and he situated a cigarette in his mouth. It was rolled perfectly, either the work of a skilled amateur or a professional; either way, it was the smallest proof of his aristocracy. All of your friends smoked lopsided cigarettes that had tobacco that spilled out of the ends. 

“I’m sure you like this as well as I do,” Harrison began. “I told my parents that I prefer to marry for love, but my younger sister is already married. They said it was getting to be--”

“Too late,” you supplied. “My father said the same of me.” 

“You prefer to marry for love as well?” Harrison asked. Feeling slightly more at ease than before, you sat down next to him, fiddling with your skirt to lay right. 

“I would like to,” you said. “But we both know that’s not possible.” 

Harrison shrugged. “We only have a few minutes left of this year,” he said, looking at the Swiss watch on his wrist. “Who knows? Maybe 1900 holds newfound possibilities.” 

You tilted your head. “What makes you so sure?” you asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Harrison chuckled. A strand of blond escaped the rest of his styled hair, and you gently pushed it back, earning you a smile from your fiancé. “I’m just hopeful.” 

“Hope can be dangerous,” you remarked. 

“That’s true,” Harrison said. “But what’s the harm in having a little hope? Perhaps we can learn to love each other.”

“Perhaps we can,” you agreed. “I guess we have the rest of our lives to do that.” 

Harrison smiled at you, and you huffed out a laugh. He pulled a drag from his cigarette, and he said, “So we’re getting married, huh?”

“Seems like it.” 

There was a shout from the house, one that made Harrison look over, and you did as well to see a man, about the same age as Harrison, dressed nicely with curly hair, half-hanging out of the house. “Haz, get your stupid arse in here!” the man yelled. “Find your girl, the clock’s about to turn!” 

“I have my girl, you git!” Harrison cried. Before either of you could say anything, the man slipped from the house and came over to the two of you, and Harrison rolled his eyes. “Here we go…” he whispered. 

“This is her?” the man asked. He was British too, and he smiled at you widely. 

“Yes,” Harrison said, and he stood up. You did the same, and Harrison carefully took your hand. “This is Y/N, my fiancé.” 

“Ah,” the man said. “Hello, madam.”

“Y/N, this is one of my mates from university,” Harrison told you. “Duke Harold Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames.”

“Call me Harry,” he said quickly. “Everyone else does.”

“Harry,” you said with a relieved smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” Harry said. “Have you only just met?”

“Just several minutes ago,” Harrison told him, his arm snaking around your waist. 

“Well, it’s quite cold out,” Harry said. “And the clock’s about to turn. Come in, madam, get a drink.”

“Oh, I don’t drink,” you told Lord Harry Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames quickly. “It doesn’t agree with me.” 

“No matter,” Harry said. “I’ll warn you, though: a drink completely agrees with your fiancé.” He gave a laugh, and you noticed that Harrison shifted uncomfortably next to you. 

“Well, Christ, don’t make me out to be a drunkard,” Harrison laughed nervously. “You’ll frighten her away, and we only just agreed to go through with this.”

“Not meant to frighten you, madam,” Harry said quickly. “In fact, my oldest brother doesn’t drink. Perhaps you two will get along.” 

“Oh, no, Harry, she’ll hate Thomas,” Harrison sighed. He looked at you, then added, “Thomas is quite a bore, honestly. Not nearly as fun as me, Harry or Sam.”

“Sam? Thomas?” you asked. You agreed that Haz and Harry seemed like fun, but anxiety thrummed in your chest. If Thomas was a bore to Harrison, you didn’t want to know what he truly thought of you. You could easily also be classified as a bore: you preferred reading and drawing to the piano or squash that was popular with your friends. You had done ballet when you were growing up, but were by no means athletic otherwise. 

“My twin brother, Samuel,” Harry began. “And Thomas is… Haz is right, he’s an awful bore. He brought a fucking book tonight, can you believe it? What sort of sod brings a book to a party?”

“But Thomas is a good friend,” Harrison added. “He’s a wonderful listener and gives excellent advice.” 

You nodded slowly. Thomas already seemed like a better match than Harrison, and you cursed your father. Of course he would match you with someone who wasn’t the best option for you. But no matter. Your fiancé offered you his arm and you took it, and you followed the men back into the ballroom. There was a renewed energy, and the ballroom was abuzz. You were introduced to Duke Samuel Holland, a man who bore a striking resemblance to Harry (as they should), and were briefly told about the twins’ younger brother, a boy of sixteen named Lord Patrick. The Honourable Charlotte Osterfield came after Sam, and she was giggling the entire night; she was engaged to Sir Tuwaine Barrett of Chelsea, another uni mate of your fiance’s. 

“Where is Thomas?” Harrison asked, looking around wildly. “He promised me that he’d be my New Years’ kiss!” 

“Did he swear to it as he did to Nadia?” Harry chortled. “I bet he’s gone home already. Slipped away without any of us noticing.” 

The clock chimed, and Harrison turned his jade gaze back to you. You gave him a gleeful look over the brim of your champagne as you took a sip, and your body cowered at the bitterness of the French alcohol. “Happy New Year, dearest,” Harrison said quietly, just for you to hear. “Here’s to many more.” 

You nodded. Suddenly, your chest felt tight, and your head was spinning, and you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol. You suddenly saw the rest of your life flash in front of your eyes: The Honorable Lady Osterfield, on your husband’s arm every single day, expected to please him and serve him. You didn’t want that. 

“Y/N,” Harrison said, putting a hand on your shoulder. His eyebrows were furrowed, and you at least felt comforted at his genuine worry. “You look pale. Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” you whispered. “Quite fine. I told you that alcohol doesn’t agree well with me.” 

Harrison nodded, his lips drawn thin, and he turned to Harry. “Call her carriage,” he instructed him. “I think my dearest needs to go home.” 

Harry nodded, giving you a worried look, but hurried off to do as his friend requested. Harrison took the flute of champagne from you and set it down, and he put a hand on your back. “I hate that you’ve gone ill,” he said. “I do wish we can see each other again, though. I enjoy your company greatly.”

“And I, yours,” you replied. “I really apologize for my behavior--”

“Harrison,” a booming voice came, and you looked to see the Baron Osterfield approaching you. “I need to speak with you, son.”

“Father, can it wait?” Harrison asked. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.” 

“His Majesty needs to speak to you,” Lord Osterfield said. “A business venture, he says.”

Harrison looked from you to his father, and he chewed his bottom lip. “I’ll be right there,” he told his father. “I just need to escort Y/N to her carriage.”

“Harrison, Dominic cannot be kept waiting,” Lord Osterfield grumbled. “Especially not on such a matter.” 

Harrison looked at you once more, then his eyes caught someone behind you. “Thomas,” he said. “Thomas! Come here, please!” 

Your heart hit against the wall of your chest when you finally saw Thomas Holland. He was a well-built man, wearing nice clothes that were a bit worn in places. His hair was dark, and in frizzy curls, crawling down his face, as was the fashion. His eyes were the color of amber, his cheeks pink, his lips thin but like a rose. He had a book under his arm, bound in leather, a bit of paper sticking from the top. “Would you do me an amazing favor?” Harrison asked. “I have to speak to your father; can you escort Y/N to her carriage out front?” 

“Y/N?” Thomas asked, and your heart warmed and melted just like chocolate. He had a beautiful voice, and you could just imagine the way he sounded as he read aloud. 

“My betrothed,” Harrison said, gesturing to you. “She’s fallen ill and must be taken home at once.”

Thomas finally pulled his gaze to your face, and a lopsided smile came across his face. “Oh, of course,” he said. “Such an honor to meet you, madam.” 

“Same to you, sir,” you said. “I’ve heard tell about you.” 

Thomas’s smile faltered. “Good things?” he asked. 

“Nothing but the best,” you said. You still felt dizzy, but Thomas’s warm hand on your arm brought you comfort, much more than Harrison’s did. “I apologize again, Lord Osterfield. I hope to see you soon.” 

Harrison kissed the back of your hand. “Same to you, dearest.” 

Thomas led you out of the crowded and loud ballroom to the front of the manor. “Lord Osterfield?” he chuckled lowly. “He’s your fiancé. You should call him by his name.” 

You shrugged. “I can’t bring myself to,” you said. “I hardly know him.” 

Thomas nodded. “I understand,” he said. “So… Harrison told you good things about me?” You nodded, and Thomas let out a laugh. You could tell that it was bitter, though. “Excuse my language, madam, but that’s a load of horseshit. You know it as well as I do. Harrison only puts up with me because my brothers are his closest mates.” 

You were startled at his honesty. “I suppose that’s true,” you mumbled. “My sisters are the same with me. They call me boring, say I’m no fun.” 

“The same is said of me,” Thomas said. “I’m perhaps the least commendable of my brothers.”

You nodded carefully, then tilted your head to look at his novel. “What are you reading?” you asked. 

Thomas smiled. “You’d like to know what I’m reading?” he asked. “Are you actually curious?”

“Yes!” you said. “I just read the most wonderful novel, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s called McTeague and it’s about an American dentist--” 

“By Frank Norris?” Thomas asked excitedly. He pulled out the book to show you, and you smiled at the same one you had been describing. “It’s so entertaining. You’ve finished it, then?”

“Just last night,” you told him. “I won’t spoil it for you, but it was so wonderful.” 

“Have you read The Picture of Dorian Gray?” Thomas asked. When you shook your head, Thomas’s face went red, and he laughed. “It’s my favorite. I could lend you my copy, if you’d like.”

“Oh, Thomas, that would be so lovely,” you gushed. “You’re too kind.” 

Thomas shrugged. “You’re my best mate’s girl,” he said. “I’m obligated to be kind to you.” 

You chewed your bottom lip. “And what of your wife?” you asked. “Am I to meet her soon?” 

Thomas came to a stop at the edge of the steps, casting a glance out at the carriage that rumbled closer. “I am unwedded,” he said. “Courtships have come and gone, but none have ever come to fruition. My father believes in me proposing rather than being forced into marriage, but I’ve never found a lady that I truly loved.” 

Your carriage stopped before the two of you, and the Osterfield’s servant opened the door for you. “Miss Y/L/N,” he said, then turned his attention to Thomas, and he lowered his head in reverence. “Your Highness.” 

“Your Highness?” you repeated, and your heart flipped in your chest. “But I thought that you were a duke?”

“My brothers are,” Thomas explained. “But, seeing as I’m the oldest and heir apparent, I get a different tile.” 

“Your Highness, though?” you chuckled. “What are you, a prince?” 

Your laughter died when you saw the stony look on Thomas’s face. “Yes,” he said. “Did Harrison not tell you?” 

You shifted. No. Please, God, you pleaded. Don’t let it be true. 

A smile played at Thomas’s face. “My lady,” he said. “I’m Thomas Stanley Holland. Prince Thomas of England.” 

[g-on-ef]

Hey if you’re still doing that 50 cliches and prompts, perhaps we can get a crumb of #23 for Blitzo x Striker? 👉👈

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A\N: Nonnie you ask for crumbs and I'll give you the whole bread ^^ also if you guys want send me some Striker x Blitz prompts of your own or one from this list ^^

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#23: “Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay!”

Striker was fighting to remain conscious, the past thirty minutes have not been kind to him...especially with the bitch Stella trying to get back at him for shooting her.

Earlier today Striker got a call from Stella to come to her as she had a new plan that she wanted Striker to carry out, a plan that could finally break Stolas.

When he came to her palace Stella told him her plan.

“Why kill the cheater when you can break his spirit,”

“Don’t you already do that every time he’s reminded that he’s marry to you?”

Stella glared at the imp, the one thing she hated about him is his mouth and his constant snide remarks.

“I will ignore what you just said, now onto the plan, the best way to get back at Stolas is to kill the most important person to him in all of Hell,”

“Octavia?”

“Touch her and I will kill you myself,”

“Well you did said you don’t care who I have to go through to kill him so technically-”

Her hand slammed on the desk she was sitting behind.

“Touch my daughter and I will put you through such agony that’ll make Lucifer himself coward in fear,”

Striker bit his tongue, he knew when he had pushed his luck and he could see he was pushing the last of Stella’s buttons.

“No the one I want you to kill is the piece of shit that ruined everything, the thing that Stolas continues to see, I want you to kill Blitzo,”

The minute that name slipped out of her mouth Striker did not hesitate to take his blessed tip revolver and shoot her with it.

Her guard was down so she didn’t have the time to move until it was to late, the gun hit her right in the torso going right through her, paralyzing her.

“Ahh!” she shouted, Striker was getting ready to shot her again when the door open and someone grabbed him or try to.

Striker was able to handle the bodyguards that came in, being a wrath imp mixed with Lilith’s bloodline gave him enough strength to beat the shit outta the guards...but not enough to defend himself from Stella who had her own gun and shot him, her aim wasn’t good so all she was able to do was shoot his shoulder.

Striker screamed as he felt the pain, before he could do anything, one Stella’s guards pulled out an angel weapon and stabbed him with it.

The pain was the unbearable, falling to his knees his attacker began to stab his back making the assassin scream.

“Stop!”

The attacker turned to his queen.

“Taking him to the dungeon, I will deal with him there,”

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Striker held Blitz closer to his body, he’s never been this gentle with someone before. Never took his time with someone and enjoyed their body.

Never appreciated every sound his partner made or the expressions they made whenever he was pleasuring them.

Normally he would fuck them as fast as he could and leave, with Blitz he couldn’t do that.

The past three nights have been amazing, ordinarily Striker didn’t do this he didn’t try to get to know people, hell he tried to keep them as far away from him as possible, especially if he was gonna go through with his plans he couldn’t afford to have any weaknesses, nothing the overlords or royals can use against him.

And yet here he was, pleasuring Blitz, slowly moving in and out of him.

The feeling of his walls around his cock made Striker groan in pleasure, he took in every moan, whimper, whatever sound came out of Blitz he listen to it and tried to engraved it into his memory, knowing this will be the last time they ever get to be like this.

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He opened his eyes and watched as Stella glared at him, her servants pushed her around in her wheelchair as she stared at him with such hatred that Striker was surprised that the bitch didn’t have the ability to turn him to stone or kill him with her glare.

“Why the fuck are you protecting him?! He chose my good for nothing piece of shit of a husband and you still protect him?! He doesn’t care about you!”

Striker stared at her, he knew what she was trying to do, his sperm donor always told him people would say anything to hurt you so if they aim low than you aim lower.

“It pisses you off doesn’t,”

Stella glared at him before Striker continued,

“That one lowly imp managed to capture not one but two powerful beings attention, your husband and me, Lilith’s bastard. One tiny lowly imp has two of your puppets wrapped around his finger. Someone who’s supposed to be superior than imps, and yet every dick that you want to be fucked by is either getting fucked or fucking the imp that you hate,”

Stella’s cool facade fell as she lifted her fist and punched his stomach, the punch shouldn’t have hurt but because Stella’s rings were made of angel weapons it definitely was going to leave a mark.

“Kill him, make sure he doesn’t make it out of this alive!”

Striker closed his eyes ready to accept death and Her embrace, the last memory he had was the last night he and Blitz made love to one another, the night were Blitz and he curled around each other silently promising each other a piece of their heart to one another.

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When he opened his eyes he was met with a bright light he blinked trying to clear the bluriness of his vision.

“Am I dead?”

“No but you’re gonna wish you were when I am done with you,”

Striker turned his head to the voice that sound awfully like Blitz’s.

Oh, it is Blitz and he was angry.

“Uhh...hi?”

“Hi! HI?! You’re ass has been lying in this bed for the past 22 hours we almost lost you and all you have to say is HI? YOU FUCKING DICK!”

Striker lifted himself up and watched as Blitz continued to glare at him.

“Do you have any fucking idea how scared I was! Fuck if it weren’t for the mating bite and Lady Lilith helping us we wouldn’t have saved you!”

Oh...right...he forgot that he gave Blitz a mating bite.

“Blitz-”

“Do you have any idea what was going through my mind when I felt your pain? What I was feeling when I heard your screams?!”

The city imp got up from the chair he was sitting on,

“I almost lost you! I almost lost the first person to show me respect, to remind me what it was like to be loved and all you have to fucking say is hi!”

Striker looked at Blitz who was crying now,

Striker grabbed Blitz and pulled him on his lap as the city imp cried into his chest.

“Lady Lilith told me, told me that bitch tortured you because she wanted me dead! Why didn’t you tell her about me?! Why didn’t you just tell her where I was at so that she could’ve let you go?!”

Hearing that made Striker growled.

“You fucker you really think I would let her hurt you?!” he pulled back and grabbed the imp by his shoulders.

“I’ll die before I’ll let anyone touch you!”

“Don’t fucking say that! You almost die because of me!”

“And I’ll do it again if I have to!”

Blitz was getting mad, he didn’t want Striker to die because of him hell he didn’t want Striker to waste his time with someone like him, he deserved better and yet Striker nearly died because of him, and here he was telling him he would do it again without hesitations.

“FUCK! Why?! Just tell me why the fuck would you do that?! Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?!”

“Because I’m in love with you!”

Striker’s eyes widen as did Blitz’s. Fuck that was not supposed to come out of his mouth, hell he was never supposed to tell Blitz that he loved him, that was a secret he was going to take to his grave and yet...and yet he didn’t regret saying, he didn’t regret telling Blitz the truth, his city imp deserved to hear those words.

“You...you dickwad no you don’t! You don’t love me! You can’t!”

Blitz curled in on himself not sure if he could believe what Striker was saying. He couldn’t be in love with him...right?

Striker wasn’t surprised that Blitz didn’t believed him, from the time they spent together Striker knew that Blitz had low self esteem and when Striker listened to him he thought he was playing with him but was surprised to learn that Striker genuinely cared for what he had to say, that he paid attention and wanted to learn more about him.

He had to tell him he meant it when he wanted to know more about Blitz even when he didn’t believe him.

“I’m in love with you,” he took Blitz’s face in his hands and place a kiss on his forehead, cheeks, the scars on his face.

“I love you Blitz, I’ve been in love with you since I heard about you,”

Blitz looked at him, before wrapped his arms around Striker’s neck and kissed him. the cowboy and the city imp kissed as if it would’ve been their last day in hell.

In a way it almost was, Striker thanked  La Santa Muerte , for watching over him and making sure he returned to the one he loved.

Blitz was thankful towards Satan that Striker was alive and that he was here with him, the two pulled back for some much needed air, Blitz rested his head on Striker’s chest wanting to listen to his favorite sound in Hell. Striker’s heart beat.

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll stay by my side forever,”

“I promise you forever Blitz, when time wants to tear us apart I’ll stay by you, I promise you always; never will I wander from you never will I leave you; I promise you eternity, that even when our time comes and we are reincarnated into the next life I will always find you. I promise to love you Blitz my heart, soul, and body is yours forever and always and way pass eternity,”

“Wow...” Blitz pulled back and looked into Striker’s eyes.

“That was some fancy words you just used,”

Striker just smiled as he pulled Blitz closer to his body.

“For you and only you,”

[hitory--chan]

Day 5: Queen of the Garden

(Ranked T)

Title: In my withered roses you lay resting

Around the forest there were always legends of all kinds, about fantastic creatures and horrifying monsters beyond human imagination, about nymphs, fairies, werewolves and giant snakes that would devastate the entire town in a few minutes if they wanted to; they were just legends, stories to amaze or scare whoever would listen to them, hypnotizing the virgin ear that listened to them with their magnetism, leading their victim to demand more, driving them mad in the search to satisfy that need.

But there was one in particular, the biggest, the most fantastic, the most sublime and the most terrifying no one ever dared to tell, the one whose existence was only known to the oldest of the town who defended tooth and nail its veracity, but nevertheless only tell each other, remembering and crying the intense agony that each word conveyed.

The legend of Hinata, the queen of the garden in the heart of the forest, and Sasuke, the infamous king who without any army was able to penetrate the invulnerable barriers that protected the queen.

The king who never returned.

“My King!” One of her courtesans shouted. "Please, I beg you to reconsider!"

He ignored her, tightening the draws of his armor as the guards placed the shoulder pads and handed him his helmet, which he took.

It was still dark, the moonlight hanging over the entire sleeping kingdom as he prepared to leave.

"My lord, he turned, now listening to his first officer, Kakashi, who was speaking to him "Are you sure this is a good idea? Going into the forest alone?"

"It's not something I didn't do before, Kakashi, you should know" he replied without much interest as he grasped the reins of Onyx, the majestic black horse that had accompanied him for years.

"I understand, but it's not the same, your majesty, it never got beyond the Stone River" the man said, his voice so slow and dull as if it was something he was trained to say, but Sasuke knew him better than many as to know that there was concern hidden behind those dead tones “It is a great risk to take to find a woman that we do not even know exists”

"People are dying Kakashi, of hunger, of disease ..." He inclined his head a little towards his first officer, not enough to really see him “If that woman, that… witch exists, it will be our chance to solve all the evils that afflict us, if I find her, then I save my people”

“And if you do not find her, my lord?”

“Then we will have to take more drastic actions, actions that I don't think we're ready for right now, Kakashi”

The silence that followed told Sasuke that the man knew what he was referring to.

They had recently fought a war against a rival kingdom that wanted to take over all his lands. They attacked in the middle of the night, cowardly seeking to have the tactical advantage darkness gave them without expecting the surprise that they were ready to fight back with much more violence than would be expected of a small kingdom that barely prospered in comparison to others. Many lives were lost on both sides, but his army had kept the slightest advantage over the invaders and captured the main officers of the intruders, executing him right on the battlefield as he had ordered them to do, closing any openings to negotiation the rival might propose.

They rose above them and conquered, drove the remaining invaders from their lands and proclaimed their victory, but they had not come out without casualties, as happened in any other war.

Their crops were burned and their women desecrated. Bodies of infants who had adventured out of their hiding spots now laying among the corpses of their fathers and men who sacrificed their lives in the name of the king's sovereignty, waiting to be buried or burned while their mothers, wives, and brothers mourned their losses.

Soon after came the diseases, plagues so violent that even the best physicians in the kingdom had succumbed to permanent contact with the infected and were now lying in beds, signaling with weak voices to proceed to their charges.

The only hope was the woman who dwelt in the depths of the forest, a queen in her own right, the oracle told him, whose miraculous fingers brought life to everything she touched. A witch, servant of the devil, counterattacked the priest, who would only bring bliss before plunging them further into misery.

A queen, a witch, Sasuke didn't care, he only wanted her hands to heal his people, determined to cut them off if necessary to save the few that were left.

Then Sasuke mounted his horse and reached out his hand, taking the sword that Kakashi had prepared for him and fastening it to his waist strap, where it would remain with him throughout his journey.

"Itachi will be in charge while I'm gone" he decreed, looking at his court, who looked at him in surprise and disbelief.

“My king, my lord!” The woman spoke again “His majesty is very ill for this task, I fear that his condition is too delicate to carry the role, your highness!”

“My brother already ruled once in a worse state than the one he currently is in while waiting for me to grow up to cede the throne, he certainly can do it a bit more while I'm gone”

“But sir…!”

"In case his condition worsens ..." he interrupted, with a tone of voice as icy as the look he gave the woman "in case he´s not an act to continue, then Kakashi will make all the decisions in my absence and my brother's disability”

Several indignant murmurs were heard from the other members of the court, annoyed by the possibility of a military man would rule them, but with the same look he gave the insolent woman, he quieted them all.

"Kakashi" he called and the man walked with him towards the limits of the kingdom that served as the border of the forest, trotting slowly as his first officer followed him with great ease "I trust you to keep everyone safe, especially my brother” he said, stopping his steed and staring at the man.

"My king's orders are my perpetual la," Kakashi recited, quoting the motto of imperial strength as he brought his right hand to his heart and bowed to him.

Sasuke nodded, but before starting his horse again, he spoke for the last time.

- And Kakashi ... execute her

Kakashi bowed again and Sasuke pulled the reins of his horse to start running, going into the forest when the first rays of dawn hit the ground, and knowing his order would be carried out without hesitation.

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Inside the forest the thick trees hid any trace of the sun, giving the illusion that it was still night even though Sasuke knew it must be after eight.

Still he didn't back down, mentally reciting the directions the oracle had given him to find the mysterious woman.

“Once crossed the river of stone, the road will split for you, one more dangerous the other, competing for the new prey that appears before them. Be guided by the horrendous noises that make the bones of the strongest of men tremble, by the trail of perdition from which your eyes will not be able to turn away, from the putrid stench of those who defied the sanctity of the earth who stepped on impure feet.

Along the way you will find death's favorite resting place. Do not drink or eat the natural delicacies that will be shown for you, instead you must use your senses, facing the great beast that will attack from the shadows.

If the combat is satisfactory, then the beast will show its respects by leading you to its queen, otherwise, there will be the place of your last rest"

Naturally, oracles liked to be cryptic with their words to the point of making them indecipherable, but the more than a century old woman who had served three generations of her family had put those fanfare behind her, preferring to be as clear as possible in her revelations than risk a bad future for the kingdom because of misunderstandings out of her tongue.

Upon reaching the Stone River, he took a moment to observe the waters peacefully.

That river had been named this way not only because of the rock formation that simulated a natural bridge in the center of that great pool, just covering its surface with a thin layer of water that made it extremely slippery, but also because of the rock at its bottom, arranged in the shape of spikes so sharp that even the slightest fall on them could cause fatal injuries to the unfortunate victim.

He allowed Onyx to drink some of the water before venturing across the stone bridge.

His horse, fearless just like his owner, also had some afraid. On rare occasions he’d tried to cross that path through the waters with the equine, but his partner had acquired a phobia at that particular step when, being very young, he slipped on the stone and it was almost impossible for him to get back on his feet, almost falling to the bottom of the river when with desperate movements he slid to one side before finally reaching the bank of the river and climbing, being completely exhausted on the grass, all under the frightened gaze of his owner who had remained on dry land while his horse struggled.

He remembers that, after that, he had remained with Onyx there for longer than he ever was in that place, being found by the royal guard and brought to the castle only to remain expectant all night at the possibility of having to sacrifice the animal.

Now, Onyx was a majestic and imposing stallion with more history than half his stablemates, but from time to time he would turn back into a fearful foal when they were near that place.

However, while he normally wouldn't push him any further than he considered Onyx could take, this time around he couldn't afford to be understandable to his horse or to be left without a mount for the rest of the way.

“Come on boy!” He encouraged him, shaking the reins several times and smiling as Onyx, refusing at first, approached the rock and put his front legs on it, whinnying loudly as he took small terrified steps.

Even in the slippery material, the new horseshoes he had had his horse put on were being especially helpful in preventing the equine's legs from slipping over the rock even when Onyx's steps were somewhat shaky, leading the horse to gain a little confidence with every step until he was finally on the other side.

“Well done, Onyx!” He congratulated the horse, patting and stroking his neck before pulling out an apple, which he happily accepted.

He wasted no time and continued with the journey, reaching the place where the road divided in three.

At first glance they did not seem dangerous at all, leading him to wonder if the oracle had been wrong with her interpretation or if he had deviated from the correct path himself, but the sudden sound of something sliding on the ground caught his attention and put his whole body on guard again, waiting for any sign of attack.

Instead what he received was the cawing of birds, crows, he recognized, noises of something sliding and the screeching of bats that flew directly to his face at that moment, causing Onyx to panic and stand up on his two hind legs, almost making Sasuke to fall.

When he regained his balance and Onyx was back on all fours, Sasuke looked at the central path, remembering what the oracle had said and thinking that this should be the way to go, so he made the horse move forward, despite the reluctance of the animal.

The putrid stench started only a few minutes on the road before dead animals began to appear on the road, being replaced only a few meters later by human corpses in various states of putrefaction, from skeletons to bodies that should barely have been there for a few days. , and even recognized the uniform worn by the third-rank guards in his kingdom, only stuffed with bones, each corpse wrapped by vines and other local weeds.

He was forced to breathe as little as possible when the stench became impossible to bear, coming to vomit in the section where everything was strongest, without having the opportunity to breathe until the road began to clear of so much death, showing to his sight a great stone plateau clothed with climbing vines and rosebuds.

He got off his horse and gave him another snack, tying the reins to the tree farthest from the ferns and other plants full of fruit that he knew they shouldn't eat.

Slowly and carefully he approached the great structure, gazing at it in fascination. Up close, he noticed the spines that protruded around the roses of different sizes that decorated the plateau, which, he noticed, were deceptively sharp, cutting him at the simple touch and spilling a thick drop of blood that bathed the thorn that caused his wound.

The sudden tremor in his spine appeared as the slight trembling of the earth beneath his feet, accompanied by the sound of something sliding - something that must have been big and heavy, from the way it sounded - and then deafening silence was present. .

“Onyx!” He shouted, turning around when he heard the horse whinny and stop suddenly, expecting to meet the animal where he had left it, however in its place he found another type of animal, giant and with shiny black scales, which were only cut with the three red lines of scales on the tip of its tail, raised in the air with a swaying motion.

The gigantic snake kept its eyes fixed on his, hissing and showing off his forked white tongue.

Eyes wider than they had ever been in his life, he diverted them just a little to the rest of the great reptile's body, almost growling in pain at the bulge protruding from where, he guessed, was the stomach of the immense snake, sure it was the product of his horse swallowing.

Feeling the flame of fury ignite and grow in him, he grasped the hilt of his sword in a slow motion and drew it lightly, as the serpent rose a little higher above him.

With one swift movement he pulled it out completely as the snake lunged at him, barely being fast enough to avoid its jaws, but not fast enough to dodge its tail, which slammed it against a tree and left it stamped there until he nailed the sword almost halfway.

Even his powerful armor hadn't been enough to shield him from that blow, catching his breath cut short by the pressure of the limb that had held him captive, but he had no time to think about that as he tried to get away from the great perimeter that covered the snake.

The injured tail slammed into the ground next to him, causing him to stumble from the din it caused.

The reptile's head also collided with the ground a few feet from his back and then glided at high speed towards him, using its nose to push him up when he collided with him and sent him flying into the air as the snake rose again, now with its jaws open.

But Sasuke was able to hold on to the tip of the animal's nose and avoid being swallowed as he had done with his horse by resting his feet against the bottom of the snake's mouth and giving a little jump before it closed it, being helped by the impulse that the same reptile gave him before the abrupt movement it made while trying to make him fall.

Sasuke stayed on the snake's skull and held onto its scales as best he could before stabbing his sword - which he had clung to as much as he could during the attack - into one of the animal's eyes, which let out a shrill and strange sound before, to Sasuke's immense amazement, it made a 180 ° turn and threw himself hard against the floor, taking him with and crashing him on the flat surface, a blow so violent that it caused him to lose his helmet, his mobility and his strength.

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Only seconds before he lost consciousness he saw the towering snake - now one-eyed - rise above him before launching itself with his jaws open just as Sasuke's eyes finally gave up.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was the immense throbbing pain in his head that only got worse when he tried to open his eyes, being hit by the brightest sunlight that forced him to close them again.

Where had so much light come from?

After a while, and when he was sure he could resist it, he opened his eyes again.

It took him a long time to regain the clarity of his sight, but once everything was clear he was astonished at what he saw.

In front of him a large colorful space, green above all, stood proud in all that light. Huge trees were here and there, casting great shadows, covered with fruit in great quantity.

A few meters from him was a lake with crystal clear waters, reflecting everything that was shown from above.

It was only when a slight movement behind him caught his attention that he realized he had been leaning against something cold, and when he turned around he felt as if his entire being had left his body when he found himself face to face with the giant eye yellowish that he recognized instantly.

He backed away quickly, grunting in pain as his muscles protested at his sudden movements, but instead of stopping to ease them, he fought them and reached for his sword at her waist, surprised not to find it.

The snake stared at him for a few seconds before lazily deflecting its head toward the center of the thread that had turned its body.

—You must not fear, it will not hurt you

He turned quickly and looked around, searching for the soft voice that he had said those words.

"Onyx" he breathed out, seeing the mate he had thought he lost, now lying on the grass, asleep on the other side of the lake.

Naturally those words were not said by the animal, but by the other person next to it, who was gently stroking the mane of his horse.

Their eyes met and he forgot how to breathe, incredulous of the moons that were his pupils, beautiful, and that without a doubt were looking directly at him.

The woman stood up and he could see her completely: snowy skin, long dark hair that swayed with every step she took. Her body was covered in leaves, branches and flowers that clung to her like a second layer. The upper part of her was covered by vines up to the middle of her breasts, being enough to cover the most. The lower part was a skirt, much less rigid than the upper one as it was made entirely of green leaves in different sizes, stopping only a few inches above her knees.

A long vine rested in the center of her abdomen, joining the two pieces as one.

She was barefoot and her hair was decorated with the most elaborate flower crown he had ever seen in his life.

As he passed by the lake, he stopped, crouching in the direction of the water, taking from the ground a large leaf of a plant that he did not recognize - and which he had not realized was lying there - and wrapped it gently until it formed a bowl that she plunged into the water until filled it, rising again and resuming its way towards him, now with the makeshift pot that spilled tiny drops from its bottom.

When she finally got to him, he saw her more clearly: thin and natural pink lips, a small and upturned nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows and long eyelashes that only marveled her appearance even more, also highlighting the lack of the slightest freckle on her face.

She offered him the bowl but he did not take it at first, still fascinated and hypnotized by the beauty of the woman in front of him until she pushed it to his chest, forcing him to hold it as she took one by one his hands between her smallest and drew them to the sides of the blade, releasing it when she made sure his grip was firm.

She, with one of her index fingers, touched the surface of the water three times in different parts, and when her hand lowered three different flowers grew in the water: a lotus, a calla and a water lily, which immediately disintegrated and mixed with the liquid, giving it a color that ranged from pink to purple.

"Take it" she said, looking into his eyes "it will help you heal."

He didn't know why, but he obeyed her and took the entire tonic in one gulp, grimacing when the bitter taste of it touched his tongue and she slid down her throat.

She smirked and turned around, walking back to where Onyx was now awake, looking at them wearily.

"It's you" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, looking at her completely uncovered back as she walked away from him “The witch”.

Her walking stopped and she turned around again, looking at him now with a frown, offended.

“That's very rude!. I am not a witch" she protested "My name is Hinata Hyuga, and I am the queen of this garden" she said proudly, turning to resume her march as if her statement was enough to deny his word.

But he would not be fooled; he had witnessed for himself what she had done in the water she had given him to drink.

He looked around him and his sight fell on his sword and armor, arranged neatly on the grass near the giant serpent's tail.

Slowly and careful not to be heard he approached his things and took the sword at the same time that with difficulty he took three steps back as the snake's tail moved to hit the ground and then returned to its original position.

It took a bit of trouble, but he was able to raise his sword and hold it with both hands, directing the tip in the direction in which that woman - that witch - was, now again sitting on the grass, stroking the back of his horse, looking at him unimpressed.

"Witch, you will come with me" he demanded "Everything will be easier if you do not resist, you will get a decent treatment: you will sleep in the softest bed, you will wear the finest clothes ... otherwise, if you resist, you ... you ..." He stopped for a moment, not for lack of words, but from shortness of breath —If… if you resist… the dungeon… the smallest and dirtiest dungeon will be…

"You’re hurting them" she interrupted, and he didn't understand.

The witch looked down and he followed her eyes, stopping at the sword that was now stuck in the middle of a small group of flowers.

When had he lowered his sword?

“What did you do to me?” He growled, aware of the progressive loss of strength to which he was subjected.

"It's the medicine" said the witch, calmly "for your body to heal, it must first rest”

And as if that were a command, his body fell apart, causing him to fall to the floor on a tall grass bed that he could swear was not there a moment ago.

- Witch! ... You will pay...

Unconsciousness welcomed him.

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When he woke up there was still sunlight, quite clear, so he thought that maybe he had only slept a few seconds, but the environment felt different from before and he could hear the distinctive galloping and neighing of Onyx, going here and there as his footsteps slightly covered the happy laugh of the female.

He could not move his body freely, only just his fingers, and mentally he cursed himself for having taken that concoction that this evil woman had given him, clearly using her sorcery to weaken him.

“Your body still needs rest” he could have shuddered at the sudden voice if it weren't for the fact that he was paralyzed, shortly afterwards the witch's face appeared in his visual range, tilted from above so he could see her “you´ve been very hurt by your confrontation with Munda, your injuries will take a little longer to heal”

He grunted, annoyed.

“Why have you risked your life to get here, mortal?” She asked him, now in a more serious tone.

Then and once again without really knowing why, he began to tell her about his kingdom, about the moments of wealth and prosperity before the war struck, about the deaths and the lack of food that besieged them, making their situation worse. He told her about his brother and his mysterious bedridden illness, about the sudden barrenness of his lands, and how he had preferred to make this trip alone rather than take away much-needed protection in case they tried again to invade them during his absence.

In her face there was no sorrow, annoyance or joy for their misfortunes, instead it was pure curiosity what he could see while he finished explaining the reason why he was looking for her.

"Okay, I'll go with you" she answered with conviction.

He, who had gradually regained mobility to the point where he could now sit up and the waves of heat attacked him insistently, looked at her in surprise, unable to avoid questioning her decision.

"I'll go with you" she confirmed again "However, the starting path is more dangerous than the one you traveled to get here, so you will have to make a full recovery first" She stood up and looked at him “I cannot be away for long, this place depends on me, so I will help your people and leave immediately, it is my only condition”

He watched her, almost denying immediately that he could leave that easily, but he was quick enough to bite his tongue before speaking.

"Okay, then we have a deal" he agreed.

She nodded pleased and stood up, walking away from him and up a tiny hill where she began to press with her fingers the closed buds and the withered flowers that surrounded her, opening and coming back to life with the simple touch of her.

Despite having accepted, in his mind they only danced ways of how he would interrupt her departure, it would be very foolish of him to let her go that easy, a person with her abilities, whether witch or not, was unique, one in a million , and no self-respecting kingdom would let her go that easily.

He could try to convince her by showing her everything that she obviously didn't have in her "garden", the wonders of modernity, and if that couldn't convince her, well, he had dungeons at his disposal that he could trick her into or even without them, but surely he would not lose those abilities from his hands.

Satisfied with that plan, he began to touch the back of both of his hands, searching and removing the splinters that he did not know how he has nailed himself.

Even though Hinata's tonics were helping him recover faster than he normally would, it felt like it was actually taking forever.

There, the days and nights seemed to last longer than normal, as if the clock had 36 hours instead of 24.

Each remedy that Hinata gave her were different and she healed something different, like the one she used to make his bruises disappear, which were a combination of wild flowers and citrus fruits that melted in the water as soon as she created them and released. Those bruises that would normally take a week or more to fade, she had done it in almost three days.

The problem is that she could only give him a tonic for one thing at a time, along with the first one that she had given him so his body relaxes and rests.

Now he was drinking one that she claimed would help with his internal ailments, and he guessed she was referring to the bruised bones that barely allowed her to walk or breathe. This was particularly bitter and she had to take it several times a day, which was a mini torture considering that these wounds would take even longer to heal.

He was washing his armor when he heard her scream.

“No! Go away, you can't be here!”

His skin prickled when she heard it. Had someone entered that place? An ally or an enemy? The great snake that was supposed to be the only one that could make someone else reach that place, Munda, hadn't moved from the rock it had spread on the day before, almost looking dead if it weren't for the hiss it left escape from time to time, maybe someone had found a way to enter without facing the great reptile?

“No! Get away!”

Wasting no time he dropped the piece of armor he was washing into the water and instead grabbed his sword, gripping it tightly and ran - or rather, he limped quickly - looking beyond the trees and bushes until he saw her midnight hair, covered with small flowers of various colors, and he went quickly towards her, who kept her fists clenched and her arms stiff down, slapping the floor with one foot while she kept yelling at whoever was there to leave.

But as he got closer to her, he still couldn't see anyone else; maybe it was some invisible person? It would not be unreasonable to think about that.

Finally, when he got to her side, he saw whoever caused her annoyance.

"This… creature…" she began, making an exasperated gesture with her hand at the wild boar that nonchalantly ate the blackberries from the orchard it raided "This annoying creature won't go away!" I've tried everything but it keeps coming back”

He looked at her in disbelief.

“So much fuss over a wild boar?”

“Is this the name of this demon spawn?” She asked him, looking at him intensely "Do you know him?"

"It's a wild boar, there are hundreds of them in the forest" he said more calmly, dismissing the accusation of her previous question.

“Hundreds?!” She gasped in disbelief.

"Calm down, just ... get rid of him."

“I´ve tried it! But this ... boar keeps coming back”

He let out an exasperated sigh, thinking of suggesting of making her pet snake eat the animal, but dismissed the idea as he thought the reptile was pretty useless when it don´t came to attacking and killing unsuspecting humans and their horses near the plateau of stone.

Since he first woke up he had only seen it move a few inches and change position, so another idea occurred to him.

“Can you hold it?” He asked him “with your ivy?”

She looked at him curiously and suspiciously, but instead of answering vocally, she raised a hand and made a few short movements with her fingers before clenching her fist, catching the animal that began to screech in panic.

He approached it, and with a certain movement, cut off it head.

When he heard her loud gasp he looked back and there she was, her brows furrowed, her eyes staked and both of her hands covering her mouth.

He looked back at the now dead animal, grabbed it head and raised it before asking.

“Do you know fire?”

.

.

.

Sasuke sat on a rock while at the same time bringing the now cooked boar meat to his mouth, biting off a large chunk and tearing it from the rest so he could eat it.

Sitting on another rock on the other side of the bonfire he had made, Hinata found herself with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, looking at him with such intensity as if she wanted to make his head explode with just her powerful gaze.

She was upset with him, that was clear. Since he had killed the animal and cut its meat into smaller portions so he could stick them into branches and put them on the fire to cook.

The turning point, however, was when he gathered branches and leaves and started the fire that he had surrounded with rocks of different sizes as a barrier so that the fire did not spread.

Apparently, she could forgive him for killing an animal even if she was clearly against it, but lighting wood and using leaves as a burning material was where she drew the line, practically declaring enmity at the prolonged silence she had maintained.

It was funny to tell the truth, even if preparing that meat and the dressing he had bathed it with to give it a little more flavor had been torture for his sprained wrist, it was worth it if I could see her normally relaxed and smiling face distorted with annoyance and disappointment, her lower lip sticking out childishly.

Furthermore, and despite the wide variety of fruits she had been feeding him - more delicious than he had ever eaten - he had really missed the taste of meat on his palate.

“Hey!” He called her even though it wasn't necessary, since she hadn't taken her gaze from him for a second. "Try a little" he said, spreading some meat even though he was too far for her to reach.

That scandalized her.

“I will not do it!” She vigorously refused, looking quite offended by his proposal “I'm not a savage!”

"Me neither" he said, shrugging even though he wanted to burst in laughs at her expression.

“You are eating a living being”

“You eat the children of your plants, but I don't judge you for doing that”

The expression on her face finally overcame him, making him laugh.

With difficulty and care, he rose to his feet and walked around the fire, sitting next to her and extending with his good hand the piece of meat he himself had previously been eating.

"Try a little" he repeated, but she pursed her lips and turned her face away, refusing.

“No, I do not like”

"You can't say you don't like it if you haven't tried it yet" he told her, repeating the words his mother had repeated so much to the fussy eight-year-old he was.

But she kept refusing, so he took another approach they used to use with him when he was especially difficult to feed: negotiation.

"How about this" he began “If you try a little of this, I promise I won't complain and take all your strange meds even if they taste like hell itself, you don't have to like it, just try a little”

She looked at him scrutinizingly, apparently looking for some kind of dishonesty, but he just brought his injured wrist to the center of his abdomen, in a well-camouflaged dirty little manipulative move, which he knew was working when she looked at his wrist and then again to in his eyes.

“Just a little?” He nodded "And will you take the medicine without complaining?" He affirmed again.

Hinata closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out again in the form of a long sigh.

She opened her eyes again, now with a look of determination and nodded.

He smiled and brought the meat to her mouth.

“W-wait!” she yelled, holding his wrist.

He was really having a hard time not laugh again.

Without letting go his wrist, she barely opened her mouth and bit into some of the meat, chewing it and stopping after swallowing it.

He looked at her expectantly, watching as she frowned again and sudden tears began to fall from her eyes.

Was it really that bad?

He began to feel guilty for forcing her to do so, but he was surprised when she now took a bigger bite, taking the meat from his hand to grab it herself, saying between sobs

"It's good!" she sniffed and cried harder as she ate more of it.

________________________

That night he woke up because of the pain that attacked his healthy wrist, grunting and looking for the reason for that, and when he looked at it, he was surprised and out of breath to see how a bracelet of branches wrapped him, which would not be a problem if it was not for the fact that they seemed to come straight out of his skin.

________________________

Another few days passed and he had kept thinking a lot about his situation.

Due to his suspicions, he decided to do an experiment.

For a few days he stayed especially close to her, touching her skin with his fingertips in the most subtle way he could, leading him to offer help during the moments when she did her self-imposed tasks that were not really necessary - there was not much to entertain herself with, he supposed — and despite confusion at his sudden need to help, she agreed and directed him what to do, frustrating him when any of those tasks kept him away from her.

But at the end of the day he touched her enough without going overboard - tapping her shoulder to get her attention or patted it awkwardly as he congratulated her with a "good job" - and then he walked away from her and went to the makeshift cot she had created for him, leaving her more confused than at first.

The first night he waited awake for something to happen, for the branches to start coming out or for his skin to turn green, he wasn't entirely sure what could happen, but he waited.

And he received nothing.

He repeated the experiment several more times and nothing happened, so he thought maybe it was a side effect of the last potion she had given him to drink? It would make sense that his body is no longer producing more vegetation by changing the type of medicine she was giving him, and it would also make sense that she did not know that effect as something out of the ordinary, since her own body seemed to produce by itself the plants that dressed her.

Then he forgot the topic, classifying it as a one-time occurrence.

Until he wasn't.

That morning, when he no longer had any kind of ailment and was beginning to feel he was finally regaining his strength, he had helped Munda - who, he learned, was really peaceful when he was not protecting the entrance to that garden - to get rid of the little debris that had stuck to him after his last shedding of skin.

"Good work," Hinata said, patting him on the shoulder as best she could since he was significantly taller than her “Munda's shedding of skin is usually a disaster because it is more resistant than normal, so I always have a hard time cleaning it when it's in season” she revealed, now with her hand fixed on his shoulder “you are very good at that”

He accepted her congratulations with a small hint of pride on her chest.

They passed the day with normally, and at night, while taking a bath in the lake, a sudden pain attacked his shoulder.

When he tried to move his shoulder in circles, he couldn´t, the pain and stiffness prevented him from the slightest movement, then he brought his other hand over said shoulder to try to massage himself, but when he felt his fingers prick, He stopped.

Surprised, he looked at his shoulder and couldn't believe what he saw: it was covered in thorns right where Hinata had touched it.

The fire of anger ignited in him and spread like forest fire, was that it? Her hands? Were her hands causing his body to produce leaves and thorns as if it were a simple plant? Although, now that he thought about it, he had been a fool not to realize it before, after all, she was nothing more than a witch whose hands could grow trees and flowers out of nowhere.

He had been fooled. He had let his guard down and this witch was turning him into another plant in her garden.

Who many more had she done this to?

He looked at the surrounding trees for the hint that any of them were once a man, but he had done his job so well that there was not the slightest trace of a previous humanity in them.

Angry, he left the lake and put on his pants, not caring they were dirty and dusty from the activities he had done that day. He dressed in his armor and took the sword with him, searching for Hinata and finding her, as always, in the center of the small flower-covered hill that surrounded her.

His quick and heavy steps caught his attention, turning and smiling at him when she saw him approaching, but that expression quickly changed when he entered, stepping carelessly on the flowers that she loved so much.

"Sasuk ..!"

"In two days we will leave," he interrupted, placing the sword under her chin and applying enough pressure so the tip dug lightly into her neck, hurting her “I have already lost a lot of valuable time with your stupid games, as of today, I command”

He turned around without giving her the opportunity to speak and went to the farthest part of that garden, where he found what seemed to be the oldest tree of all, the most leafy, where he sat down and pressed his back against it, crossing his arms with his sword still in his hand, quickly creating in his mind all the logistics of what he would do next.

______________________

The desperate neighing of Onyx woke him up.

He hadn't realized when he had fallen asleep, but it seems as if the apocalypse had taken place once he closed his eyes.

He blinked, trying to clear the blurry view of him until everything was terrifyingly sharp.

In front of him, Onyx kept crying, rising on his hind legs and then dropping the front legs in heavy blows, kicking up the dust with each fall.

It was daytime, he could tell, but the whole environment was so bleak that his brain had a hard time understanding it.

He looked around him, all the space that had previously been green and colorful had turned to the darkest gray he had ever seen. The trees shed their leaves at an impressive speed, the same ones that were now on the ground, surrounding him.

He tried to take one, but the blades were so brittle they broke with the simple touch.

"Onix, take it easy" But the horse ignored him; instead, he whinnied louder as if urging him to stop and then ran, leaving him behind.

He walked carefully, looking everywhere: the bushes were dry but still held some of their fruits, of which he took one and put it in his mouth only to spit it out instantly, disgusted by the horrible taste of the previously delicious blackberry had taken. As he walked, a foul stench began to fill his nostrils, aggravating the closer he got to the lake, until he realized that was where it came from. The waters, previously clean and clear, were now as black and thick as tar.

What was happening?

It didn't take long for him to find the cause.

Still on the small hill was Hinata, motionless and with her head bowed, the flowers around her were wilted. Munda surrounded the hill, making a great circle with its whole body, as trying to be a wall of protection for her owner.

The great snake gave him a warning hiss, glaring at him, now with both of its healthy eyes, as if it was challenging him to come closer.

Even with the threat of the reptile, he did, he knew how protective he was, but he had learned that in here Munda was more like a puppy playing at being brave than the gigantic and terrifying snake really was.

Already within the circle of protection of him everything was more horrible, here the flowers were not withered, and instead they seemed burned. Hinata's body remained immobile, not even seemed to breathe, and when he surrounded her and was face to face with her, he was surprised by the horrible state that in just a few hours she had gotten.

Her skin was as gray as the rest of the earth, her previously pink lips were now dangerously close to black, almost all the flowers in her hair and crown had lost their petals and the ones that remained would fall at any moment. Her eyes were open and she kept them that way, without blinking, and the only sign that told him there was still life in her was the trail of tears that fell without stopping.

He crouched in front of her and called out, but he didn't get the slightest bit of recognition from her.

He grabbed her face and winced at the ease of movement he had from her, even if her body seemed stiffer than could be possible.

Then the dark green trail that fell from her throat to her abdomen caught his eye, and he felt as if he had been hit with the strongest metal as he remembered what he had done.

Was this his fault?

"Hinata," he called her, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes, which seemed to be empty. "Hinata, I'm sorry."

But his attempts were in vain because she did not respond or make the slightest movement that indicated she would do it at some point.

Desperation began to fill him and he didn't know what to do, stroking her face and trying to wipe the tears away, but they kept falling and instead, sliding over and around his thumbs, mocking his unsuccessful attempts to stop them.

Then, in a moment of utter despair he did something he had only thought would happen in his dreams, and kissed her.

His lips froze over the cold, chapped of hers, and all ambient sound that he had previously not actively noticed disappeared. He made no move, just stood with his lips joined, praying inside his mind for a reaction, until her lips trembled.

One sob left them, then two, until it was totally a symphony of wailing.

He hugged her and pressed her to his chest, quietly apologizing to her and preferring to hear her cry than remain in the deathly silence of moments ago.

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

Recovery was slower than he could have imagined. While it took less than one night to produce the disaster, fixing it was a matter of a long time.

She avoided talking to him and he couldn't blame her, not after all that he´d caused.

She was just getting back to her normal color and at the same time so did her garden, slowly returning to the green it was when he had arrived.

He hadn't given her a reason for his action in the first place, and he didn't think he'd do it sometime soon - never, if he could.

He just helped her silently, discovering that when he kissed her, she recovered a little more.

So he kept doing it, morning, afternoon and evening, until the pink on her cheeks appeared and the flowers in her hair began to bloom.

That, however, came at a price, and it didn't take long for him to realize that the mere touch was more powerful than that of her fingers.

It first reflected on his nails, which turned brown and their textures became like that of a tree trunk. Then on his chest, where leaves and thorns came out again.

It was a much faster process than he had thought.

"I think we can leave tomorrow" were the first words she spoke to him after days of silence, smiling shyly at him, speaking in a low voice.

He nodded as best she could, his neck stiff from the changes taking place in him.

That day his feet stuck to the ground, and pulling them off felt as if he had lost a limb.

"Sasuke" Hinata called him the next morning, worried about what she was seeing. "Since when has this been happening?"

He looked at her, but he didn't answer.

He was still lying on his grass cot, trapped by the ivy that had tightly encircled his arms, torso, and legs to keep him in place.

"Wait." The desperation in Hinata's voice was palpable, but he could barely recognize anything.

With her hands, Hinata touched the plants on top of him, but was surprised to see that instead of obeying her and disappearing, they seemed to tighten around Sasuke.

She looked at her hands without understanding what was happening and tried again, her eyes clouding over as she obtained the same result as the first time.

The tears left her eyes and the sobs soon appeared the more she tried and failed, becoming more energetic and miserable with every second more.

"Hinata," he called out, barely a hoarse whisper as he felt a new plant grow from his stomach and slide its roots through his esophagus, slowly exiting his mouth "There is no time for me…”

“Do not!" She shouted shakily" Don't say that!”

“S. Save them ... my people ...” he said, barely breathing.

"I-I will, but-but first ..." A sob interrupted her "you first..."

Sasuke wanted to deny, but he had neither the strength nor the mobility to do so.

"There ... there is ... no time for ... me" he repeated.

“Sasuke”

“Please”

Without finding the words to answer him, she just nodded.

Sasuke smiled and looked at her, grateful as a single tear slid down the side of his face as more roots came out of his mouth.

"Thank you" he said, his voice cracking, closing his eyes, "I lo ..."

But he couldn't finish his sentence, losing the last breath he had and finally letting the roots slide out of his mouth and dig into the ground beneath him.

A heartrending scream came from Hinata's mouth, the loss, for the first time in hundreds of years, completely ripping her apart.

She cried over his body, feeling a pain much worse than that of a few days ago completely invade her, feeling again how she was fainting rapidly.

But she still had one last promise to keep.

Unwilling to leave him, Hinata placed both hands on the ground and gathered all of her strength, screaming as she transferred her power beyond the forest, filling all around with the life that he had come looking for.

The earth shook and great thorny walls rose above all of her garden, joining in the center without closing completely, and leaving a small gap through which the sunlight entered.

Exhausted, she walked to where Sasuke's body lay covered in roots and she dropped down beside him, placing a hand on his chest, slowly closing her eyes and melting into him.

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

From the highest tower of the Uchiha castle, the cries of the courtesans invaded the room of King Itachi, whose body was covered by a white sheet as his court surrounded him.

"You did it, my king," Kakashi whispered, watching from the window as the kingdom began to fill with the vivid green of the growing plants and the colorful buds of flowers and fruit that followed them, though his attention was really fixed on the large bud that it had formed in the farthest part of the forest.

While, at the gates of the kingdom, Onyx the steed without his king arrived.

@sasuhinamonth

[julieloveupstead]

"It Was So Close" - Upstead 8x07

Description: They came so close to losing the most important person in their lives in an instant, but after all, they are police officers and that's their job risk, right?

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

Hailey was still asleep when Jay left her suite. They were going to start working separately that day. Jay, Adam, Kevin, and Kim were working on the Becerra brothers of the Latin Players, who Ruzek had been working on for the past few days, and Hailey had some paperwork due that had her at her desk all morning. She didn't know why, but she had the radio on on their shared frequency and was listening to something she didn't even know what exactly. Maybe she wanted to kill the boredom and the silence in the room or she wanted to make sure that the work the team was working on went according to the plan and that nothing unexpected happened, although she did not expect anything special to happen. She was almost finished with her report when Kim's voice came over the radio

- 5021, Eddie, 10-1, 10-1! Shots fired at police. We're at 4200 South Justine.

- Sergeant! - she called out and immediately a grey head emerged from her office.

- We have undercover officers firing shots. - Kim could still be heard.

- Let's go - decided the boss. Hailey took her jacket and ran to the car. When she heard her friend's words her heart stopped and the darkest thoughts came into her head and she didn't know how to throw them out. After all, Jay was surely fine, right? Shit what if he's lying there right now with a hole in his caltrop and oh god what if he's bleeding out right now and I'm not there with him? No, no, no, no. I'll never forgive myself for not being there, and I suggested to Jay that he wanted me to go with them, but he told me to get some sleep. Oh my God, what if this morning was our last? I'll never see his green eyes again, his wonderfully gallant smile that is reserved just for me and that makes my knees soften and butterflies dance in my stomach. Oh god, oh god, Hailey get a grip on yourself damn it nothing happened because if something bad happened Kim or Kevin would report it, right?

There was a war going on in Hailey's head, and her heart was rumbling in persi, and squeezing unpleasantly in her stomach. She was trembling all over her body and could barely keep herself from crying, but she knew that with Voight around, she couldn't afford to.

For Hailey, it took forever to get to the scene of the shooting, and when Voight finally parked, she took off running, praying that Jay would be okay and that she could scold him for freaking me out again.

- Jay! - shouted Hailey as soon as she saw Kim, who was waiting for backup. Apparently they had arrived first, which probably meant that nothing bad had happened, but as she got closer she saw a black cloth and a piece of shoe sticking out from under it. She froze at the sight and couldn't even move or breathe. She didn't hear someone say her name, she didn't feel Kim touch her arm. All that mattered was that she was late. That she wasn't where she needed to be, that she had let him down. She had promised Jay that she would always cover his back, that she would always be there for him. She was mad at herself for daring to tell him so late that he had long been more than a partner and friend to her. She regretted that they had so little time to themselves. She hadn't had time to tell him that she loved him, that she wanted to become his wife and grow old with him. Yes they had only been together for a month and hadn't really talked seriously about the next steps in their relationship, but it was so obvious to her that he was the one for her that she hadn't considered that something like that would happen. Or should she? She dropped to her knees a few inches from where the body was and, with trembling hands, reached to hide the bag, but then, as if from an abyss, a voice emerged that always brought her out of the dusk. She closed her eyes and let out a few tears that came unexpectedly, she wanted so badly to remember that sound.

- Hailey - she heard someone calling her more clearly now, but she still didn't open her eyes. She was afraid that if she opened them she would not see the most calming and amazing green of Jay's eyes in front of her. - 'Hailey, open your eyes, please,' she heard someone whisper, and someone's hands drawing unknown patterns on her shoulders. Just because she smelled a familiar scent she slowly opened her eyes. At first she thought it was a dream, but then when she studied with her eyes the whole face looking at her with worry, and steam escaped from his mouth, she believed that she was not dreaming that there was a whole and healthy Jay kneeling before her. Then all her senses seemed to awaken from their winter sleep and she realized what she had done, what a circus she had put on. Because of her, it was probably now anyone's guess that she and Jay were together. Damn.

When her breathing normalized and her thoughts returned to normal, she wordlessly got up from her knees and moved away from Jay, who now really looked worried and she knew he wanted to talk, but her survival instinct told her to put on the mask of a professional cop and go back to work as if nothing had happened. Because, after all, nothing had happened. Jay was alive and that was the most important thing, and they could talk later when they got back to her apartment after work. She let Jay know that she was okay and that they would talk later, and then she walked off in the direction of the arriving officers.

There was no time to talk for most of the day, about what had happened that morning. Hailey buried deep in her memory what had happened and did her best not to over-intellectualize the stares her colleagues were sending her, especially not to give into Jay's constantly sending her stares. She tried to work and act like she did on any normal work day, which was to say, professional and cold-blooded, as if it wasn't happening. She worked and functioned better that way. The only upside was that she wasn't avoiding Jay she just knew that command wasn't the place to talk, last time they broke that promise and she's pretty sure Kev suspected something. She'd promised herself she'd never let that happen again, and oh this morning it all came to a head, and now she was sure everyone knew about them. Damn. She could have acted more professionally, but emotions got the better of her.

On the other hand, no surprise there, right? Jay had already escaped death almost twice in front of her eyes, until now she sometimes wakes up at night with the sight of a bloody and unconscious Jay in that damn basement. More her reaction shouldn't surprise anyone and it doesn't have to mean anything right away. I'm sure I'm just exaggerating all these looks. She kept repeating to herself. Her head was starting to hurt from all this, so she got up from the desk she was sitting at and headed towards the breakroom with the intention of making herself some coffee.

Adam and Kim went to talk to Adam's CI, Kev disappeared as I suspect to call Vanessa who got a job in the drug department. Voight, on the other hand, went to see Deputy Inspector Samantha Miller, so it was just Jay and her left in the break room.

- Hey - she heard Jay's voice behind her who she didn't even know was standing behind her, she was still consumed with thoughts from the whole day and which she was trying so hard to keep out of her mind. She turned with a small tired smile towards the man. Jay also had a similar smile on his face, but she could also see that he looked worried and as she guessed probably because of her. This guy was unsmiling. He had barely escaped with his life recently, and he would always worry more about her than himself. Sometimes she felt guilty about it, because she didn't want to cause him even more problems, and now since they were together she felt overwhelmed by it, because no one in her life and the early one where parents in any normal family should do it and the later one when she grew up no one cared about her like he did. At every step he proved how much she meant to him. She almost felt like a princess with him. And maybe that's why losing him scared her so much back then.

- Hey, you want some coffee? - I asked, trying to sound as natural as possible, but it only took a glance at Jay to know that he didn't believe her one bit, but he slowly nodded.

Jay sat down on the couch waiting for Hailey to make them coffee in peace. He wanted to give her a moment to sort out her thoughts, he didn't want to rush her, his goal all along had been to reaffirm that she could always count on him, that he would always be there for her, despite everything. This was, after all, how their thing had started and how it would be until the end, because this was how they functioned. So without rushing, he waited patiently for Hailey to open her heart and soul to him. He did not care if it could be today, tomorrow, next week, next month or even next year, for him the most important thing was that in the end he would entrust her demons to him. And even the smallest secret from her childhood, or what she felt, would fill him with unbelievable love and pride, that she was able to trust him.

And so they sat in the kitchen, in the department and sipped their coffee unhurriedly. Jay often tried not to look at his girlfriend, but sometimes he couldn't help thinking what a damn lucky guy he was to have such an amazing woman by his side. When he heard the shots his first thought was Hailey and the guilt he felt for letting her down again, for breaking the promise he'd made to her a year ago and he'd repeated that promise last week, that he'd always come back to her. He couldn't do that to her, not when his biggest dream had come true. She was the only thing that had kept him alive for four years now almost. When he heard her calling him there that morning he felt so relieved that they still had time and a chance for everything that awaited them on their journey together. What bothered him, however, was the state Hailey was in and he knew full well it was all his fault. This overbearing little person must have been terrified and it reawakened old memories that they both wanted to forget.

- When I heard over the radio that there had been gunshots... - Hailey spoke so quietly, but Jay would have heard her even at the end of the world. He gave all his attention to his girlfriend, he would always want her to know that she was the most important thing to him, so he sat quietly letting her calmly express her emotions, he didn't rush her. - And then when she saw the two bags.... - he didn't need to see her face to know that there were tears in her beautiful ocean blue eyes. Jay stood up and slowly walked over to her. He set his cup down on the table and knelt by the woman of his life.

- Hey, Hailey will you look at me? - he asked himself just as quietly. His heart was breaking into a million little pieces when he saw how scared she was. He slowly wiped away the tears running down her cheeks with his thumb, then took her hand with his and squeezed it tightly. He wanted her to know that he was here, that he would not leave her. He did everything slowly and calmly, he didn't want her to cringe inside, to suffer. He dreamed of taking away all her pain, fear and anxiety and all the weight she carried on her back. - I'm sorry I scared you, I'm sorry it all came back again, I'm sorry you had to go through this again. - With every word, he looked centrally into her eyes. - I can't even imagine what you went through today. I'm so damn sorry, Sunshine.

- It's okay, Jay, it's our job, right? - she said trying to sound more confident, but Jay knew her too well. The green-eyed man merely nodded, knowing that slowly Hailey was trying to end the conversation, and he didn't want to pressure her or force her into anything knowing that then she would shut down completely. That's why he sent her a small reassuring smile, he hoped she could read from his gaze, his face, everything he wasn't able to convey with speech. He stood up and hugged the girl sitting in the chair and kissed her head.

Back then, Jay didn't know that he would soon feel a substitute for what Hailey probably felt every time she saw him in a more dangerous situation. Now he was more determined to be more careful, because the kind of fear and helplessness he'd felt out there under the warehouse when they'd managed to catch those responsible for that morning's shooting and when it got hot and he didn't have a good place to shoot he didn't wish on anyone.

Today was so close to both of them losing what is most important to them, but all the more reason for both of them to be determined to keep fighting and never stop.

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: Pt 37 - Rough

“You want me to lie down on my back and spread my legs and let you fuck me until you cum in me like a good little girl, huh?” she continues. There is a wildness, an unconstrained craziness in her eyes.

You want to say something, want to snap back and tell her that you were more than willing and plenty able to do more than just that; but her hand pumping up and down your stiff cock, and the wild look in those eyes, has you incapable of coming up with the right words. Your cock begins to leak pre-cum, and she spreads it over your weeping slit and sensitive head, eliciting a soft moan from your lips that you do your best to stifle.

Seulgi sees this - sees that she has the upper hand - and the devious smile on her lips widens.

Seulgi grabs you by the cock and pulls you towards the bed - something that would have been painful were it not so fucking hot; the promise of sex with such a wild partner was an effective painkiller, it seemed.

Placing both hands flat against your chest, she pushes you down onto the old, small bed. She quickly undoes the button and zipper of her denim shorts, and strips it off her hips. Her short crop top soon follows it to the bedroom floor, and suddenly Kang Seulgi is naked in front of you, her slim, toned body tensed and ready to pounce.

“Too bad I’m not a good little girl,” she hisses, before climbing onto the bed, straddling your head with her thighs, and sitting on your face.

---

“So this is it, huh?”

“This is it,” Kang Seulgi repeats as she takes the first few steps into the apartment, reaching out to the wall to flick the lights on. Most of the furniture in the small, nondescript unit was covered with white sheets, although here and there an odd appliance or decoration was left uncovered to gather a layer of dust. The sheets and dusty atmosphere meant it was unlikely anyone had been there in awhile.

“I’d expected SM staff to be able to afford better housing,” you admit. The apartment was modest at best, being on a middle floor in a lower-middle class neighborhood of Seoul. It was far from being an unlivable place, but it was still a ways removed from the hyper modern, massive apartment buildings that dominated most of Seoul’s hipper, newer neighborhoods.

Momo and her team had picked you up from the JYP offices about an hour before; the other girls were doing some scouting and recon of the premises ahead of Seulgi’s meeting with Irene, which was scheduled for the next day. You’d volunteered to scout out Red Velvet’s old apartment with Seulgi, where the actual meeting was going to happen.

“This was all we could afford when we started out,” Seulgi replies, “when we were just paper pushers at SM. Before Red Velvet was even a thing.”

Seulgi reaches out to the refrigerator, which still had polaroids, takeout menus, and other miscellaneous junk attached onto its front door with magnets and scotch tape. Her eyes, normally cold and aloof, are far away, lost in thought and memories of days gone by. She plays idly with the edges of a series of polaroids - and though you were too far to see the subject of the photos, you knew it had to be the members of Red Velvet in their younger, more carefree days.

“When we started living here we decided as a team that we would each take turns cooking. We didn’t have a lot of money and we figured cooking our own food would save us a few won here and there,” she says with the hint of a smile on her lips, “but it turned out none of us could cook. Joy almost burnt this place down a couple of times. We ended up just taking turns ordering delivery.”

Her fingertips trace the corner of a well-worn delivery menu held to the door with a magnet. She touches the magnet briefly, as though she were reliving a moment that might have happened years ago, when she’d grab the menu off the fridge and ask the girls what they wanted to eat. But reality soon sets in for the suddenly sombre girl, and with heavy steps she leaves the kitchen.

She flicks on another set of lights, revealing the relatively small living room. An old, small flatscreen TV sat on a simple wooden stand against one wall, with a cheap fabric couch opposite it covered in white sheets.

“Only two of us could fit on the couch at once, so the other two had to sit on the floor. We took turns,” she explained, as if reading your mind. There must have been a lot of sharing going on - the apartment might have been cramped for two occupants, let alone four young women.

“Only one tiny little bathroom, too,” she continued. “Man, the fights that we had over who was taking too long in there…”

You are happy to let Seulgi reminisce about better days for a moment. This was the first time you’d spent any length of time alone with her, and you didn’t mind learning more about Red Velvet and how they began.

“Irene would shout at us if we were taking too long,” she continues, her tone wistful, “sometimes she would bang on the bathroom door so loud we’d get complaints from the neighbors.”

You are hesitant to broach the topic of Irene, given the noticeable thawing of Seulgi’s usually icy exterior since you’d arrived at the apartment. You were thankful it was Seulgi who brought her up.

“So the bitchiness started early,” you state.

Seulgi smirks. “At the time, yeah, we thought she was a bit of a bitch. But we couldn’t deny that she was driven, and that she wanted to go places. It was her that had the idea of forming Red Velvet - of working together as a team to make something of ourselves at SM. She was a bitch, but she could be a real leader, too. I suppose her bitchiness is also what made her so successful.”

“So how exactly did you four meet?”

“The four of us started at Red Velvet at the same time - we were recruited right out of university. We met at the SM orientation, and when we learned that we would be working in the same division we decided, hey, we may as well live together.”

Seulgi steps over to a bookcase filled with framed photos, old books, and other keepsakes collected by young people in the prime of their youth. Her hands reach out to graze its simple wooden frame, her eyes drifting from one item to another on its shelves and reliving a memory with each one. She doesn’t touch any of the photos or other things on the shelf, as if she were afraid of what would happen if she did.

“We started off just pushing paper. But one day Irene was promoted to be the executive assistant of some middle management type dude at SM. He was a bit of a perv - always hitting on her and shit, touching her like she was his girlfriend. Anyway, one day he was assigned to go to this convention in Europe and scope out what the competition was doing, and then report back. Irene went with him. Guy was drunk as fuck the whole time, treating it as a company paid vacation.”

Seulgi’s gaze finally settles on a framed picture, and with hands that appeared almost nervous, she reaches out and picks it up off the shelf with a delicacy that you didn’t know she was capable of. Her slim fingers play gently along its frame, as though she were handling some precious, fragile artifact.

“Irene ended doing all the work. And what’s more, she ended up getting some pretty juicy info on a competitor; info we ended up using to… convince them to sell us their tech.”

“So the blackmailing started early, too,” you say under your breath. Seulgi smirks.

“We prefer the term ‘corporate espionage,’” she says with a sly smile on her lips. “Irene was promoted for her work. The dude was demoted to the dungeons of SM where he fucking belonged. Irene took us with her, and soon we were climbing the ladder at SM.”

“Surely you were paid enough to buy nicer digs.”

“Yes,” Seulgi admits, “but we always kept this place. It was like a hideout for us, almost. We got up to some pretty shady stuff in our line of work. But we’d always come back to this place to relax, hang out, and just be girls again. No one knew about this place but us. It felt safe. It kept us grounded. It kept us together.”

“So what happened, then?” you ask, satisfied that now was the time to bring up the YG incident, “what happened on that day, Seulgi?”

Even without asking, the young woman knows what day you mean. She puts the picture back on the shelf and lets out a sigh; you experience a pang of regret as she does so, knowing that you were probably bringing up some bad memories. Seulgi takes a few deep breaths to compose herself. 

When she begins to speak she’s still turned away from you, moving from the bookshelf to stare out the window of the living room, towards the skyline of downtown Seoul in the distance.

“YG was our biggest competitor back in the day, as I’m sure you know. Wendy and Yeri were assigned a few operations to try and get dirt on them. But they never had any luck. Soon enough SM brass decided to give the assignment to Irene. Irene, of course - she didn’t waste any time. Before a month was out she had already established a relationship with YG’s CEO. More than that - she had him wrapped around her finger.”

“Damn,” you say, impressed.

“Anyway, her mission was to get the dirt on YG’s R&D division - they went under the codename Blackpink. She used her relationship with the CEO to dig up everything she could. But the more she found out about Blackpink, the more passionate she became about bringing YG down.”

“What did she find?”

“She wouldn’t tell us,” Seulgi says with a soft shake of her head, “she kept everything to herself at her own insistence. We usually shared everything we knew with each other, but this was different. She said it was because she didn’t want us to be in danger in case YG retaliated. She wanted to give us plausible deniability, I guess. Yeri thinks that by not telling us anything, she was trying to protect us. But I don’t believe that.”

“What do you think it was?” you ask, sitting down on the covered couch.

“I’m not entirely sure. I just know she must have had a reason for not telling us what she found. Either way, one day she came to us and proposed we infiltrate YG HQ. Apparently there was something there that we couldn’t retrieve via hacking. It had to be done the old school way, as I’m sure you’re familiar with,” Seulgi says with a smile, turning her head slightly in your direction. 

“A little too familiar,” you answer, knowing she was referring to the near disaster of Nayeon’s infiltration of SM.

“So we went and got pretty deep into YG HQ. We expected that we’d be doing some hacking into a secure mainframe or server and retrieving some confidential company data. Instead what we did was break four girls out of a goddamn dungeon.”

“What?”

“It turns out the whole thing was a rescue mission. The Blackpink girls were the target. No one knew this except Irene, of course, so you can imagine that when she told us we had to get these four girls to safety, we kind of freaked out. Wendy - she was Irene’s second, back in the day - she almost wanted to walk out on the whole thing and take the other two of us with her. But Irene convinced us that we had to get out with the girls - so we did. She was our leader. We trusted she was doing the right thing.”

“Except you didn’t all get out,” you say, realizing even as you said the words that you could have been more considerate with your choice of words.

“No, we didn’t,” Seulgi says, her voice dropping slightly. The girl takes a few deep breaths to compose herself, her hands bracing her weight against the windowsill. She had always seemed so tough and confident, but to see her vulnerability now made you feel bad for even bringing up the subject. Her very posture had changed; she was usually so proud and haughty, and now she seemed small and defenseless.

“You saw the tapes. You know what happened. YG captured Yeri and I on the way out. Irene took the girls and ran. Yeri and I… YG fucked us up.”

“Seulgi…” you say, not quite knowing how to best comfort her.

“Whatever. That doesn’t matter now. A few months later Yeri and I escaped that hellhole. And now all I want to know is why I had to go through that. I want to know why Irene left us there to die. And I’m going to ask her that tomorrow.”

A few seconds pass in silence as you digest Seulgi’s story. You’d known that Irene had left her and Yeri behind during the YG incident, but that was the extent of your knowledge. Learning the history of Red Velvet right from the source had given you some much needed context. 

“I’m sorry, Seulgi. It must have been terrible.”

Seulgi lets out a dark chuckle, as though she’d just heard a joke.

“Terrible is a vast understatement,” she says, “it was the worst few months of my life. But what they did to us physically - it didn’t matter. I healed. It was the betrayal that hurt the most. The relationship we’d built here, in this very room - to have it thrown away like that; that’s what really hurt me.”

Seconds pass in silence.

“It’s one thing to have your boss betray you,” Seulgi says with a wavering voice, “it’s another thing to have someone you’re in love with do the same.”

You are surprised somewhat at Seulgi’s confession. You’d known she’d had some sort of physical relationship with Yeri, and that their shared experience at YG had likely made them close, but you’d had no idea she’d had any sort of feelings towards Irene.

“What, you’re surprised?” Seulgi asks, a mocking tone in her voice and a sly smile on her lips as she finally turns around to face you. Her soft, sad eyes belay the cold, detached persona she was trying to return to. “Are you really surprised though, considering what Yeri and I did in front of you at the coffee shop last week?”

“No, that doesn’t surprise me. I just had no idea you and Irene-”

“Whatever, it’s in the past,” Seulgi snaps, “It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now is bringing her down. Who I fuck takes a backseat to that.”

“I suppose,” you say with a nod.

“Anyway, the bedroom’s that way. Come on then,” she says, stepping away from the windowsill to take you by the wrist and drag you towards a closed door.

“Uh, what?” you stammer as you are dragged from your seat.

“All this talk of the past has me all sad and shit, and I need a pick me up. Besides, you owe me one from the coffee shop. Oh, and you should know - this is going to be rough. I hope you’re not a pussy.”

---

Seulgi was right - it was rough.

From the moment she dragged you into the bedroom it was a bit like being caught up in a storm; one that pushed you around, one that hit you, one that caused you occasional pain. But instead of giving into her anger you found yourself wanting to fight back - wanting to show here you weren’t going to be pushed around. This was a wild animal you wanted to tame, a storm you wanted to weather.

As you cross the doorframe of the bedroom Seulgi grabs you by the collar of your shirt and quite literally shoves you up against the bedroom wall, rattling the walls and causing a few of the items on the nearby cabinet to fall over. Before you have a chance to react she is on you like a cat, quickly crushing your lips with her own before her tongue quickly invades your mouth. She tastes like mint - sweet, but with an underlying sharpness.

As you make out her hands find your collar again and she tears it open - sending buttons flying to the floor with small clinks. She tears her lips from yours momentarily as she forcefully undresses you. There is a hunger in her eyes as she takes in your newly exposed chest, like a predator salivating at the prospect of delicious prey.

Her lips return to yours in a torrid kiss; her hands quickly strip the torn shirt from your torso, and you are happy to help her remove it from your arms. You aren’t one to let her just get away with something like that, though; you want to fight back, want to show her that this wasn’t just a one way street - and so you grasp the light pink jacket she is wearing and pull it down her shoulders, leaving her in a short crop top and denim shorts.. 

As soon as Seulgi divests herself of the jacket she slaps you - across the cheek. You’d been slapped before, of course, even a couple of times during sex - but never that hard. It stung. She wasn’t holding back.

“Every piece of clothing you take off me gets a fucking slap,” she hisses. There is a wildness in her eyes that both scared you and intrigued you.

“Then I guess I owe you a slap for my fucking shirt,” you snap.

“Then do it! Fucking slap me. I want you to. I want it to hurt.”

“...I’m not gonna fucking slap you, Seulgi.”

“Because you’re a fucking pussy? I fucking knew it. I fucking knew you were a-”

She is silenced mid sentence by your open palm; even before you realized what you were doing, you’d hit her across the face. You are momentarily frozen by your own actions - you’d never hit a girl’s face before - but the crazy glint in Seulgi’s eyes, and the wild smile on those lips, meant that your slap not only didn’t piss her off - it turned her on.

Her hands reach for your jeans, fingers working quickly, almost frenzied in her desire to undress you. As soon as she undoes your belt she pulls them down, hooking her thumbs in your boxers and dragging them down along with your pants, leaving you naked. She takes a moment to admire your newly stiff cock as it springs free from its cotton prison.

“I see now why you have all those fuck toys in your office,” Seulgi says, licking her lips as though she were about to dive into a delicious looking meal, “and why Momo is always so fucking wet around you.”

“Maybe you should find out first hand,” you snap back.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seulgi hisses, reaching down and grasping your stiff shaft. The skin of her fingers and palm are soft and warm, but her movements are rough and frenzied as she begins to stroke you up and down - you let a soft sigh escape your lips at the first spikes of pleasure, although you do your best to keep from doing any more than that. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“You want me to lie down on my back and spread my legs and let you fuck me until you cum in me like a good little girl, huh?” she continues. There is a wildness, an unconstrained craziness in her eyes.

You want to say something, want to snap back and tell her that you were more than willing and plenty able to do more than just that; but her hand pumping up and down your stiff cock, and the wild look in those eyes, has you incapable of coming up with the right words. Your cock begins to leak pre-cum, and she spreads it over your weeping slit and sensitive head, eliciting a soft moan from your lips that you do your best to stifle.

Seulgi sees this - sees that she has the upper hand - and the devious smile on her lips widens.

Seulgi grabs you by the cock and pulls you towards the bed - something that would have been painful were it not so fucking hot; the promise of sex with such a wild partner was an effective painkiller, it seemed.

Placing both hands flat against your chest, she pushes you down onto the old, small bed. She quickly undoes the button and zipper of her denim shorts, and strips it off her hips. Her short crop top soon follows it to the bedroom floor, and suddenly Kang Seulgi is naked in front of you, her slim, toned body tensed and ready to pounce.

“Too bad I’m not a good little girl,” she hisses, before climbing onto the bed, straddling your head with her thighs, and sitting on your face.

It must have been only a few minutes since she’d pulled you into the bedroom, and already she was almost too much to handle. With the other girls there was at least some preamble, a healthy amount of foreplay, or both; with Seulgi there was none of that. A quick, torrid kiss, a stripping of clothing, and now your face was between her legs.

Your determination to fight back returns, having been lent strength by the fact that she no longer literally had your cock in her hands. And so you quickly dive into Seulgi’s slick, juicy pussy, darting out your tongue and giving her a slow, hard lick from the bottom of her opening to the top, delighting in the taste of her wet flesh. Seulgi quivers at this first lick, although she quickly settles down - evidently she was fighting the same battle you were, neither of you willing to show the other that they had the upper hand.

Her right hand reaches down to your scalp, her fingers digging into your skull.

“Stop fucking around and eat my pussy,” she orders, her tone sharp, although you notice, to your satisfaction, that her eyes have softened due to the pleasure of that first, quick taste.

You smile to yourself as you dive back in, your tongue darting out and giving her another broad lick, this time swirling your tip around the top of her opening, searching for and quickly finding the stiff little bud that is at the centre of her pleasure. Seulgi quivers slightly at this first contact between your tongue and her clit.

You are determined to not give her what she wanted - and it was clear what she wanted was a quick orgasm. So instead of returning to her aching clit you dive deep into her opening, pressing your face against her hot heat, penetrating her as much as you could with your tongue. You drink in Seulgi’s slick juices as they flow freely into your mouth, delighting in her bittersweet taste as you eat the writhing young girl riding your face. The moans that leave Seulgi’s pursed lips become a little louder with each dive into her depths, and the quivering of her soft thighs around your face become a little stronger as the young woman slowly, gradually loses control.

For a few delicious seconds you tongue fuck her, thrusting your tongue in and out of her opening, swirling your tip around with each entry and exit, savoring the taste of her body like some delicious meal. Her fingers dig deeper into your scalp as she continues to grind her crotch against your face, the pain in your skull and the delicious taste of her pussy mixing into a heady cocktail that quickly intoxicates you.

“Fucking… fucking make me cum.. Oh! Make me cum already,” she hisses.

You are unable to answer her with words, your mouth filled with her pussy as it was, and so you answer with action. You bring your hands up, cupping and squeezing her toned, round ass from behind, pressing her crotch closer and deeper against your face. Giving her pussy one more lick and driving your tongue as deep inside her as it could go one last time, you finally move upwards to her needy clit.

Seulgi’s reaction is instant, having been driven to the edge by the tongue fucking you were giving her. When you capture her bud between your lips and swirl the tip of your tongue around it she cums almost immediately, her body going rigid for a split second before becoming a pile of jelly, the pleasure taking the young woman by surprise as her body succumbs. Her mouth is frozen in an open “o” for a few seconds as the first wave of her orgasm crashes against her, but soon she lets a long, drawn out moan escape her lips as she rides it out, enjoying every crest of pleasure that hits her.

She is gyrating her hips as she cums, grinding her wet, drenched, hot crotch against your face for a few beautiful seconds. It’s almost difficult to breathe, your mouth or your nose or both covered in her wet, hot flesh. You are clutching her ass in an attempt to hold her down, doing your best to lap up the plentiful juices leaving her slick opening, drinking up Seulgi like she were a fountain and you hadn’t drunk in days.

When Seulgi finally comes down from her high and releases your head from between her wet thighs, you are almost upset when her pussy leaves your face. You lick your lips, gathering her juices from the mess she’d made on your mouth and chin.

When you lock eyes again her face is wild - flushed with her orgasm, but still undiminished in that intimidating craziness that had taken her over.

She slides her body down, dipping her head and kissing you roughly, tasting herself on your tongue as your mouths lock in frenzied battle once more. To Seulgi, kissing was not a show or display of affection - it was a battle, a display of dominance.

“Not fucking bad,” she admits when she finally breaks the kiss, “now let’s see how you fuck.”

You were surprised at her lack of foreplay, lack of build up before she forced you to eat her out - but you were still expecting some sort of lead up to actual sex. But you should have known better by now, should have known that Seulgi wasn’t that type of girl.

In the space of a couple of seconds, Seulgi moves her body down until she is straddling your waist, and after reaching down to point your aching tip at her slick, dripping pussy, she takes you inside her and begins to ride you.

No build up, no slow gradual rise in pace or tempo - soon she is riding you hard, as though she were atop some bucking wild horse in some sort of race to a finish line only she could see. Her pussy is tight and wet and slick and hot and every possible adjective you could possibly use to describe the pleasurable feeling of her body - and it took you all at once, the sensations hitting you all at the same time, like a tsunami hitting the unprepared coastline of your brain.

It is all you could do to hold on to her bucking hips as she throws herself again and again into your cock, taking you in and out of her body at a pace that held no regard for your pleasure or even your comfort - all she wanted was to get off, and you were the tool she was going to use to get to her destination.

“Mmmm…. Argh! Fuck! Fuck, yes… Mmm... !!”

Even the sounds she made were different; aside from the odd pleasurable moan or hissed profanity, she sounded like she were searching for something, or working away at a project. The other girls sat back and let themselves come across the pleasure they were searching for; for Seulgi it was as though she were actively searching for it, looking for it amidst the sensations and pleasures emanating from between your bodies.

It took you longer than you cared to admit, but eventually you are able to at least get used to the torrid pace Seulgi has set as she rides you roughly on the creaking, protesting bed. She clutches the headboard above you, and as she does so it finally gives you a good look at her slim, svelte form, all tight muscle and lean limbs, her abs tight and sculpted, her small breasts tipped with delicious looking nipples stiff with pleasure. 

Above it all, though, was that face of hers - surely capable of much beauty and grace, but now twisted in wild abandon, the craziness of her need and lust twisting those perfect features into a mask that was equal parts intoxicating and intimidating. Hey eyes, even half-lidded in pleasure, are still bright and wild, fixed on you even as the rest of her body bounces up and down.

Rather mercifully, it is her that ends up approaching orgasm first; lucky for you, because you’d have hated to see what could happen if she were disappointed by sex. The gradual tightening and pulsating of her already tight, slick tunnel tells you she was quickly reaching her peak.

Seulgi ups her pace, impaling herself again and again on your cock as though she were nearing the finish line to a race and wanted to finish strong. The determined look on her face begins to crack, as the pleasure of your stiff cock pumping in and out of her finally overwhelms her senses.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna fucking… fucking cum… fuck!”

She cums like you expected her to, like she did minutes before on your tongue - like a violent storm breaking upon a shore. Her body goes rigid, her fingernails dig into the wooden headboard, and her thighs clench around your waist as the pleasure overtakes her senses. Her pussy pulsates and quivers around your cock as she buries it as deep inside her as it could go. It is all you could do to hold on to her tight, shaking body as she rides out her pleasure for long, beautiful seconds.

When she comes down from her peak she is still slowly grinding herself against your crotch, your cock fully embedded inside her body, as though she is chasing the last vestiges of pleasure before she comes down to earth. Breathing heavily, skin flushed, she finally gives you her appraisal of your performance.

Her appraisal is a slap across your face. When you recover enough to look back at her, your cheek stinging with sharp pain, the wild look in her eyes both scares you and turns you on.

“You think I have to thank you for making me cum, when all you did was lie there? The only credit you get is for not cumming in five seconds like a fucking virgin.”

You are a little stunned by Seulgi, and more than a little unsure about how to react. You’d never been with a woman so wild, so crazy in bed before - only Chaeyoung came close, and even then it was more playful than angry. Seulgi was a storm, a tornado that came in, tore down your house, and didn’t care what you thought of it.

You want to reach up and choke her. You want to turn her around and pull on her hair hard as you drill her tight little body from behind. This part of you wants to fight her - wants to show her you were just as capable of dominating her as she was of you - but another, darker part of you wants to let her have her way. Because deep down, it kind of turned you on.

“I suppose you can cum too, then, I guess,” Seulgi says, as nonchalantly as she could, given the circumstances - as though she weren’t naked, fully impaled on a man’s cock.

“Where do you want to cum, you little bitch?” she asks, with a look that you would have thought was threatening if it weren’t so fucking hot.

“I want-”

Another slap, this time to your other cheek. This one stung more than the other. The gradual increase of pain in her slaps would have concerned you if they weren’t so fucking hot at the same time. You should have known better. You’d think you’d have learned.

“I decide where you cum,” she states, a little edge in her tone. She says the words matter-of-factly, as though she were to brook no complaint or argument, would accept no alternative. A storm, after all, cared little for the complaints of those in its path.

She slides off your cock - and you lament the loss of her tight wet heat wrapped around your cock as it slips out of her, shiny and glistening with her juices. Before you know it Seulgi is curled up into a ball between your legs, and soon she is taking you in and out of her mouth.

Again - no build up. No preamble, no teasing or foreplay. Only the replacement of one hot, wet orifice with another. Only the wet, hot cavern of Seulgi’s mouth, those lips wrapped tightly around your shaft, her tongue swirling around your sensitive head each time she reached the apex. You should have been ready. You should have known by now. But again, the tsunami that was Kang Seulgi’s body finds a coastline unprepared.

She is rough, lacking in the patience and technique of someone like Sana or Seolhyun; but Seulgi more than makes up for it with sheer determination, as though she were using anger and hate to fuel her work between your legs. And you were in no position to complain, not when her hot little mouth was already bringing you close to cumming after only a few seconds of work.

She must have felt you nearing your peak - because you were certainly in no position to tell her so, given the near paralysis you felt as she worked fiercely on your cock. Just moments before you finally cum Seulgi lets your cock pop out of her mouth.

Your orgasm overwhelms your senses, but you force your eyes open to watch as thick, glistening cum erupts from your tip to land on Seulgi’s face, on her cheeks and nose, painting her soft features with white semen. You continue to cum more than you think you were going to, as though your body were responding to Seulgi’s abuse by painting her face with as much thick, hot white seed as it could. The look of utter lust on Seulgi’s needy features is breathtaking - mouth open and tongue out, she looked as though each rope of thick cum that landed on her face brought her to a new level of perverse pleasure.

After letting the first few streams of cum land onto her wanton face Seulgi slips your spasming cock back inside her mouth, and the feel of her tongue on your sensitive shaft, mid-orgasm, is almost too much to handle. Your hands grip the sides of her skull in a grip that is almost too tight for the girl; but she bears it, accepting the last few streams of cum into her needy mouth to splash against the back of her throat.

Your hands keep her there - you had involuntarily buried your cock into her mouth with a thrust of your hips and the grip on her head, it seemed. Not that Seulgi seemed to mind, if the swirling of her tongue around the sensitive underside of your pulsating cock was any indication.

An indeterminate amount of time later, when you finally release her head from your grasp, Seulgi lets your now half-softened cock slip out between her pink lips - along with a thick stream of fresh semen. She is almost embarrassed by it, and she quickly darts out her tongue to collect it all, as though it were some expensive drink that she didn’t want to waste a drop of. You watch as her throat works, gulping the thick ropes of cum down into her body.

You are barely cognizant enough to watch as she sets to work cleaning your cock, using her hand to keep it straight as she licks your combined juices from your tired, weary shaft and balls.

All the while she does so with your warm cum still dripping down her face, a wicked smile on her lips, and those crazy eyes locked on yours.

---

It’s half an hour later when Momo and Yeri arrive in the apartment, thankfully enough time for you and the former member of Red Velvet to get yourselves dressed up again and at least somewhat presentable, even if you had to deal with a shirt that had its buttons torn off. The sight of your torn shirt was an obvious giveaway to Yeri and Momo; Yeri reacts with a sly smile, as though she’d expected it to happen, although the dark look of barely hidden disappointment in Momo’s eyes stings you a little.

“Our work downstairs is done,” Momo states, seeking to change the subject as the four of you stand in the living room, “We set up cameras at all the entrances and in the parking lot. Seulgi will be wearing a camera and a wire to capture her meeting with Irene here in this room.”

“And I’ll be in the bedroom with a recording device of our own,” you state. You knew you had to have your own copy of the recording; not only to ensure redundancy in case of equipment failure, but also as a backup plan in case Irene tried something unexpected. “Jihyo and Nayeon will be with me, ready to arrest Irene once the time is right and we’re sure she won’t try anything.”

“Fair enough,” Momo admits, “Now if you two are done with your… work, we can leave.” She gives you another sharp look, then turns and leaves the apartment. Yeri follows, but only after giving the apartment one last quick glance; unlike Seulgi, she seemed to have no desire to relive days gone by.

“Seulgi,” you say, stopping the girl as she makes to follow Momo and Yeri out.

“I need to know you won’t do anything stupid tomorrow,” you continue, as straightforwardly as you could.

“Stupid? Like what?” the girl asks, crossing her arms and facing you.

“Like kidnapping Irene. Or worse. Jihyo and Nayeon will be here to arrest her. All you need to do is get her inside the apartment. That’s all. I know you want to get back at her for what she did to you, but she’ll be prosecuted for all her crimes, I promise you. We’re going to do this the right way. We’re not going to hurt her.”

Seulgi smirks, as though she were offended by your insinuation.

“What makes you think I want to do that?”

“She betrayed you and Yeri. Left you behind to be captured by YG. You said you wanted to ask her why. That’s fine - but I need to know that you won’t do anything stupid, especially if her answer isn’t what you want to hear.”

“I just want to ask her why she left us there. One way or another, I’m going to get my answer.”

Seulgi turns away and begins to walk out of the apartment.

“Remember what I told you last week - don’t get in my way,” she states, each word cold as ice, as she steps out of the apartment to leave you alone with your thoughts.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Longing

Chapter 1

Description: Chris Evans becomes obsessed with you when he realises he can't have you. Eager to be with you in some form or the other, he starts writing fanfiction, where both of you are passionately in love with each other. But what happens when his imagination starts to merge with his reality in his subconsciousness?

Warnings: This entire mini-series will contain smut, bad language and angst. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

This first chapter is inspired by the GIF below from @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 's ShamelessHoesForChris writing challenge. Click here to know more

A/N: I do not know Chris Evans personally. This fic is a work of imagination and should only be used as such. It doesn't comment on Chris or anybody else personally. It is also not meant to destroy his reputation or paint him in a bad light. I admire the guy and he really seems like a genuinely nice person. Again, I repeat, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION SO TREAT IT AS SUCH!

A/N 2: I did search quite a lot on the internet and didn't come across a fic like this. Which makes me nervous and also kind of excited that I get to do something unique? Please please give me your criticism and feedback on this! Would love to hear your thoughts.

A/N 3: I have used a few big words throughout the series because this fic is from Chris' POV and we all know that he's a bit of a wordsmith 😅 I had never even heard these words before in my life. So please let me know if I have used them in an incorrect manner. 

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

The best thing about shooting Defending Jacob? Chris got to stay in his house in Boston. The worst part about working on the set? He was currently stuck in a room engulfed in hot, angry flames of fire. The fire had abruptly started due to a short circuit and spread across the set in the blink of an eye. Coughing, Chris doubled down on the floor, his breathing becoming more laboured with each second. 

The smoke stung his eyes as he looked around for a fire extinguisher. He tried calling for help, but only small grunts managed to escape his lips. Just as he was on the verge of losing consciousness, he heard a voice. Your voice.

"Is anyone here?" you called out, your voice faint in his ears. "Hello?" 

Chris tried to shout again, but only sank further towards the floor.

Luckily, you opened the door of his room and found his almost crumpled body on the ground. Using the fire extinguisher, you managed to douse as many flames as you could, while also covering Chris with a thick blanket. As the room was still filled with smoke, you pressed a wet towel on his face, asking him to breathe through his nose. 

Slowly, you managed to drag him out of the room and into the corridor, the fire reduced to embers in most places thanks to your fire extinguisher. Chris being a heavy man, you tried your best to support his weight as much as you could, your body almost stooping to form a right angle.

Just as you thought you might be in the clear, you heard a crack from above. Looking up, you realised that the ceiling was about to cave in and so, on impulse, you pushed Chris out of the way, as portions of the false ceiling fell on you, knocking you unconscious. 

Chris, in his state, vaguely realised what happened, before he lost his balance and fell to the ground a few feet away from you, his left arm stretched towards your limp body, as if reaching out.

Sirens of the firetruck and the ambulance filled the heavy air. A deep groan escaped his lips as he attempted to crawl towards you, a failed effort. Where did it all go so wrong? he thought. I was supposed to be the one to save you angel! You should be falling in love with me!! And break-up with your good for nothing fiancé! 

Overwhelmed with emotions, Chris started drifting off to sleep, your name leaving his lips in the form of a desperate whisper.

🔥

8 MONTHS AGO

Chris met you for the first time at the table read for Defending Jacob. You didn't strike him as anyone special. Being the Junior Assistant Scriptwriter for the series, you were just in the room as a formality. It was your job to jot down the minutes of the meeting, and have the parts of the script marked which were supposed to be changed slightly. 

You managed to stay invisible for more such meetings. An introvert by nature, you kept to yourself even when the shooting started. 

It was in the Week 4 of the shooting when Chris actually started to notice you. He realised you were always absent from his house parties, never stayed around on the set for after-work shenanigans and, you never hung out with any of your crew-mates for a drink.

What really drove his attention towards you were your random acts of kindness. He once saw you feeding a homeless man in the alley behind the set. Unknown to you, it was where Chris often hid from his cast and crew to smoke. 

Then there was the bit with setting up of a mobile blood donation camp on the set, which was completely your idea. He had also seen you distribute fliers for animal adoption centres and NGOs who fought for climate preservation.

You always made sure everyone on the set ate before you did, and the ones who couldn't due to work, you were sure to help them and share their load so they could have lunch.

But one particular incident made him see that you were no ordinary woman. 

It was a particularly tough day on the set. They were shooting the 35-second sex scene between him and Michelle. While these scenes looked easy on the screen, they always made Chris feel uneasy about himself. "What if my body is not upto the mark?" , "I don't want to hurt Michelle in any way" , "God I hope I don't touch her inappropriately by mistake" and more such troubling thoughts clawed at his mind. After the scene finally ended, he felt the lustful eyes of the crew feasting on him, admiring his body on display. 

He hurried towards his van, avoiding to look at anyone, until his eyes met yours for a total of 5 seconds. He expected to see the same smirk to be reflected in your eyes as everyone else's. Instead, he saw a completely different emotion. He saw sadness, sympathy, and most importantly, recognition of his discomfort etched on your face.

After that, Chris started to keep a close eye on you. You always wore comfortable clothes, with loads of pockets. Yet somehow, they always fit you well. He also noticed that you always got your own lunch, refusing to eat the food available on the set. 

A few days after filming the sex scene, he decided to try to speak with you. Palms sweaty, he headed towards you and gently said your name. 

"Hi," he said, and stopped. 

"Hello Mr Evans," you greeted him back, a little surprised that he knew your name. 

He continued to look at you, bright cerulean eyes bearing into yours, apparently lost. You blinked twice, unfazed, and a little uncomfortable, "Can I help you sir?"

Chris shook his head slightly. He was so used to women fawning all over him, that your utter lack of excitement on seeing him deterred him a bit. 

He cleared his throat, a little flustered, *Ahem yeah… I wanted to ask… something… karaoke!" he managed to mumble, "It's karaoke night at my house. Tomorrow. Will you come? At night?"

"Umm… No Mr Evans. I am sorry I will not be able to make it," you politely declined while taking a small step back.

"Oh. Uhh… well we can have it any other night if you want," he cleared his throat again, sweat starting to gather on his forehead as he noticed your movement, "You never visit any of my house-parties."

You smiled a bit, "I like to go home early. I want to spend as much time as I can with my fiancé and my cat."

Chris raised his eyebrows at that revelation, "Fiancé? I… I don't see a ring."

"That's because there isn't one," your smile widened as you pulled the chain around your neck and revealed a locket. It was an intricately carved sunflower locket, with small, delicate curls nestled inside the petals. 

Chris glanced at it with disdain. It looked hand-made, cheap, "Is that… is it made from clay?"

"Yes Mr Evans," you beamed at the locket, admiring it with love and pride, "My fiancé is a potter and he made this himself. It took him over 6 hours just to carve all the petals. But he still made it because he knows how much I love sunflowers."

"So he's too poor to give you an appropriate ring?" Chris snapped at you. 

Offended, you looked at him in shock and anger as he continued. "You deserve someone who can afford to give you an expensive engagement ring. Not some cheap craft project."

You grit your teeth at his comment, "Unlike some people, I don't look at the price of the gifts, I look at their value. While this," you held the locket in front of his eyes, "is worthless for you, it is priceless for me."

You placed the locket back inside your shirt and walked away. Chris stood rooted at the spot, biting his cheek hollow. He hadn't meant to drive you away. He had just wanted you to see him as a prospective partner. 

As he turned towards his trailer, an idea popped into his head.

🔥

Next Friday saw you and your fiancé walk into the bowling alley. The production house had organised a "Bring Your Partner to Work Day" and you both were excited to step out of your routine lives. 

A few people on the set recognised your fiancé Aiden from his YouTube channel. Kenneth, an Assistant Set Designer, drooled over him, "Maaahhnnn! I love your pottery videos! They are so calming dude. How do you make them so relaxing?"

The ever shy and soft-spoken Aiden gushed at the compliment, turning a shade of red which you always found adorable. Aiden was almost the same height as you, with a lean figure and a kind, freckled face. Your friends always told you that Aiden's looks were nothing to brag about, but you disagreed. Because for you, this man was the most handsomest, cutest and sexiest person in the world. 

And you knew he felt the same way about you. That's why, even after being together for almost 5 years now, you two still looked at each other with heart eyes.

As the party progressed, you made sure to avoid Chris, and so far, you were successful. That was until he softly said your name. 

With dread in your stomach, you and Aiden turned around to face the man. Aiden knew of your previous encounter with Chris, and tried to square his shoulders as much as possible, but Chris' towering physique and personality literally made it impossible for Aiden to appear tough.

You gave Chris a curt nod and received a sweet smile in response. 

"I believe I owe you an apology," he confessed, "I am sorry. My behavior that day was inexcusable." He paused for reaction, but looking at your hesitant faces, he continued, "It was quite a hectic day on the set and I guess I took it all out on you," he looked towards you, "You know I am capricious by nature. It takes me some time to become gregarious. But," he raised his hands in the air, "I repeat, the way I acted was inexcusable. I am sorry."

He extended his arm towards Aiden, "You are a porter I believe."

"Potter, sir," Aiden corrected while shaking his hand and introducing himself.

You bit your tongue, knowing that Chris was mocking you with his false apology. 

He invited Megan to join the conversation, "Megan loves handmade ceramics. Maybe she would be interested in your work."

Introductions were made again, and as the conversation pursued, it arrived at the topic of your marriage.

"Have you guys decided on a date yet?" asked Megan as Chris looked at you. 

"We are planning to get married as soon as the shooting ends for DJ," you smiled.

"Oh really? Wow that's… unusual," Megan tried her best to hide her surprise.

"We don't know exactly when will the shooting end," Chris said with a frown on his face.

"That's not an issue Mr Evans. We are actually planning to get married at the courthouse," revealed Aiden.

"You know if money is an issue then we would be more than happy to help you guys out," Chris offered in a sincere tone. 

"Oh no no Mr Evans. Money isn't an issue," you clarified, "We have decided to donate the money we had intended to spend on the wedding."

"But thank you so much for the generous offer, we really appreciate it," Aiden added with a sincere smile.

"You know a lot of couples are doing that nowadays. It's a trend I believe," Megan commented, "Where are you going to make the donation?"

"The local orphanage where I grew up. We both love kids and, it just seemed to be the perfect choice," Aiden beamed at you. 

You mirrored his expression while Chris scowled. "I think everybody should get the wedding of their dreams, and you" he stated, pointing towards you, "deserve much more than a courthouse wedding. Don't you want to get married in a beautiful church? Walk down the aisle in a gorgeous white gown? And get married to a man who can actually fulfill your wishes and desires?"

Squaring your shoulders, you looked at Chris dead in the eye, "I am marrying the man of my dreams Mr Evans. The wedding ceremony doesn't matter to me. What does matter is the beautiful life we will begin together. Now if you will excuse us," you linked your arm with Aiden's, "we need to leave."

Chris watched you leave as Megan tried to distract him with something else. Tonight did not go the way he had anticipated.

He left the party shortly after you, directly heading for his home. Standing under the cold shower, he tried to reason with himself. He was acting out of character. There was no reason for his behavior. You had made it ample clear that you loved your fiancé and that nobody in the world could sway you.

Then why was he so hell-bent on claiming you as his?

Because she's perfect for you, a voice answered him. 

Yeah, but she belongs to someone else, he argued.

So what?, the voice urged, Fight for her. You saw her wimp of a fiancé. You can break him into two pieces without breaking a sweat. She is made for you. Just you, and nobody else.

"I… Just… No," Chris stammered loudly as he shook his head, trying to get rid of the voice in his mind.

He tried to meditate, but it didn't work. Dodger too, was unable to distract him. Even his books on self-help and mental health were of no use.

As a last resort, he opened his laptop, but his fingers halted at the search bar, the cursor blinking back at him.

He was too tempted to search for you again. The last time he had Googled you, he had been satisfied with the results. You often volunteered with a few NGOs, coordinated multiple donation drives, visited orphanages and taught underprivileged children. His heart had melted at a particular photograph- you were holding an 8-month-old girl in your arms, while looking over a painting drawn by a 4-year-old boy as the child looked up at you with a toothy smile. 

It reminded him of everything he wanted to have, but still couldn't. 

He closed his eyes and started kneading his forehead with his palms. Everybody he knew always only had the best things about him. Right from Scarlett to Mark to Olivia to every fucking person he had ever worked with, everybody said he deserved to have a loving wife, a stable family. 

And yet, here he was, on a Friday night, home alone with a beer bottle, on the verge of anxiety. 

Was it just anxiety though?

Who the fuck is Aiden and why does he deserve to be with her? the voice in his head was back.

They love each other, they want to get married, Chris reasoned.

He doesn't hold a candle next to you, the voice persisted, People love money more than they love others. She will come to you. But you need to let her know you are available. You need to take her to-

"No," Chris interrupted the voice loudly, "No. This is unhealthy. No."

Reaching for his phone, he searched for his therapist's number, when the voice chuckled, You really think a shrink is going to help you with this? Eh? They are only going to ask you to fuck another pussy, or read more books. And I will be damned before you touch another book about trees. 

Chris shook his head again, but in vain. Unable to find the number in his contacts, he turned to Google for the second time that night and started searching for therapists in his area. The voice tut-ted, Yeah, as if the psycho doctor is going to shut their trap about Chris Evans crying over a girl.

Chris almost crushed his bottle in frustration. He couldn't let the voice take over. Not now. Not after working his ass off to get where wanted in his career. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the screen again and came across the headline- "Why Do People Write Fanfiction?" The word fanfiction seemed vaguely familiar to him. He was going to ignore the article and scroll downwards, but the brief underneath the headline made him stop- …mostly, people write fanfiction to stay in touch with the characters they love," says leading Psychologist Andrea Williams.

Intrigued, he opened the article and started reading. Then he opened another, and another and by the time he was done, he had read 6-7 articles on the concept of fanfiction and what it entailed.

Sighing, he opened a new word document. He was reluctant to type a letter, let alone a whole fictional story. He had tried everything and yet, you chose to occupy a rent-free space in his mind. 

Now all he needed was a reference.

He minimised the document, and opened a new tab on his browser. His hesitant fingers typed the words - Chris Evans Fanfiction - into the search bar, and he instantly winced.

Millions of search results were displayed before him, and as he read the descriptions of each one of them, he realised that 99% of these stories were porn. There was no sugar-coating it. On the 5th page of the search results, he luckily found a story sans the erotica. It was a cute one-shot about him going on a first date with the reader. He read it with squinted eyes, afraid that a sex scene might jump out of the blue, but luckily, nothing of the sort happened. 

Chris liked reading it. It was an innocent story filled with romance. 

But the only problem? It was written from the reader's point of view. He checked a few others, and realised they were all written from the women's perspective, not his.

He sat back in his chair, turning his head such that he was looking at the ceiling, contemplating his options. 

You want her, the voice whispered.

Reluctantly, he typed the first word that came to his mind. Your name. 

Chris rested his chin on his palm, wondering where to start. If this were fiction, would tonight have gone different? Would you have visited his house for karaoke that night? 

Tapping his fingers on the desk, he bit his tongue in thought. Thinking it was better to start at the beginning, he started typing from his POV-

The first time I saw her I thought she was pretty. I saw her during meetings and the shooting. Then one day I saw her giving food to a homeless man-

Deleting his words, Chris shook his head. This was insane! Right? You were a real human being and it was unethical of him to write this! He needed to learn to handle his feelings. 

If you don't have the balls to fight for her, then be with her in the stories you write. Grow a spine Evans, whispered the insulting voice.

Hesitating, he tried to write another paragraph, which ended up getting deleted. 

Try again, the voice coaxed him. Pour your heart into this. Write better. 

Taking a sip of the beer, Chris started typing again-

It was lunchtime when I saw her arranging some equipment on the table. Her back was facing me as I carefully approached her, afraid to startle her. I breathed in her scent, light, floral and fresh, before whispering her name.

She turned around, a bit surprised to see me, but she smiled nevertheless. Oh gosh her smile. I had seen her smile a few times on the set, but in person, it took my breath away. 

"Hi," I managed to greet her shyly. She matched my response.

"I was wondering if you would like to sing karaoke with me? There's a karaoke party tonight at my house if you would like to come," I asked her hopefully.

Her expression turned remorseful as she apologised, "I cannot come Mr Evans. My fiancé won't let me."

Imagine my surprise when I found out about her fiancé. "I didn't know about your fiancé. Why won't he let you come?" I asked her, concerned as she started sniffing a bit.

"He's… he's very strict Mr Evans. He doesn't like it when I go out with my fri-friends or co-workers," she shared between her light sobs.

My heart broke into pieces on hearing her confession. I had often noticed her taciturn behaviour on the set, but I had no idea about the reason behind it.

I raised my hands to cup her face. I was itching to wipe her tears with my lips, but instead, I used my thumbs. 

"I want to help you. Please let me," I requested.

"Nobody can help me Mr Evans. I am stuck with a monster." She pulled a chain from underneath her shirt and I got a glimpse at the marks on her neck. "Aiden gave me this chain and locket instead of an engagement ring. He said it will be better than a ring. And now he-" she started sobbing harder. I pulled her into my chest, running my right hand through her hair as my left hand soothed her back.

"And now he uses it as a leash," my angel whispered, horrified, "he says I do not deserve a ring."

I hugged her tighter and thankfully, she buried her face in my chest, "You are no longer stuck with him. Are you listening to me?" I bent my face to bring my lips near her ears, "I will make sure that you are free of him."

She shook her head, reluctantly pulling away from me, "No Mr Evans. I cannot-"

"Yes you can," I interrupted her. "You are going to come to my house for karaoke tonight. Message Aiden right now, and tell him that I will be dropping you home. Okay?"

After some coaxing, she agreed. I held her close as she typed out the message, her hands shaking around her mobile phone. Finally she clicked on the SEND button.

I brushed a kiss on her forehead, "Wait for me in the back alley after the shoot, okay? I will pick you up from there."

She nodded gratefully in response.

I couldn't wait for the shoot to be over that day. In my eagerness, I even messed up a few takes, mumbling over my lines like an idiot. But eventually, I got through the day. 

I was excited when I picked her up after the shoot. I could see she was nervous and maybe a little bit scared, but she still entered my car anyway. So I made small talk with her and tried to put her mind at ease.

Finally, when we reached my house, she was in awe. 

"This is the most beautiful house I have ever seen Mr Evans," she gasped as I led her inside, "I don't think I have ever seen anything like it before!"

I chuckled, "I am happy you like it. It… it just feels empty sometimes, you know? I find loneliness ubiquitous in this house."

You looked at her puzzled expression and smiled. "Ubi-what was that word Mr Evans?" 

"Ubiquitous," I replied, "it means something that is present and is found everywhere."

"Ahh okay," she nodded, "thank you for teaching me."

"I will accept your gratitude only on one condition."

She tilted her head ever so slightly, "And what would that be Mr Evans?"

I smiled as I slightly bent down and held her hand, "You need to start calling me Christopher."

Visibly flustered, my angel looked down at her feet. "I-I can't Mr Evans," she said in a low voice.

"Why can't you?"

"I respect you too much sir," she confessed.

"Hey," I gently nudged her forehead with mine, "I want you to say my name. Please?" 

I stared into her eyes as she met mine. God.

There was something about her eyes that was absolutely riveting. The depth of her eyes pulled me in towards her as I read the plethora of emotions hidden within them. Her gaze searched my face for malice, deceit, but only found love and trust in return.

I slowly cupped her face as her breath hitched in her chest. I could feel my own heart race. Bringing my face as close as I could to hers, I whispered, the distance between our lips fast closing, "Please."

She parted her lips ever so slightly. I felt her warm breath on mine as she obliged, "Christopher."

I closed my eyes as I heard the most melodious symphony, my name draped in her sweet voice.

I dipped my head to kiss her, feel the shape of her lips, but she stepped back.

"I-I am st-still engaged Chris-Christopher," she stammered.

I straightened myself, my hands no longer cupping her face, "I understand. I am sorry. Would you like-"

Before I could finish, a car honked outside. While I was curious at the intrusion, her eyes widened with fear. 

"That's him," she gasped, "Aiden is here. He found me."

"How is that possible?"

"He has a location app installed on my phone through which he tracks my location," she revealed, visibly shaking at the thought of greeting her fiancé.

"Stay here. You will be safe inside. Let me handle him," I said, squeezing her shoulders.

I walked out of the house and towards the car. The vehicle didn't look in good shape, it's owner even more so.

Aiden manually rolled down his window and spat on the ground. Fumes of cheep alcohol and stale cigarette smoke escaped through the window. "Where is she?" he hollered.

"That's not your concern anymore. She's breaking up with you," I crossed my arms and stood facing him. "If you know what's good for you, you will leave her alone and stay out of her life."

Aiden exited the car at that threat, the door of the vehicle rattled as he opened it. "She said that?" he scoffed, "Color me surprised, I thought the little mouse had no fight left in her. Bring her out here. I want to hear," he wriggled a finger at me, "whatever the fuck you are saying from her own fucking mouth."

"Not going to happen Aiden. You followed her here against her own wishes. Now scoot off before I call the cops," I warned.

"You think I will be scared of some Hollywood prick who shits diamonds?" he sneered. 

"No. But you should be scared of the law. You are currently harassing the owner of this private property, not to mention you have clearly abused your girlfriend mentally, emotionally and physically. So be sensible," I took a step towards him, "and fuck off."

"STOP," she shouted as she trusted towards us. She stood in front of me, as if to guard me from her monster of a fiancé, "Please don't hurt him. I will come with you. Just let him be," she pleaded with him as he smirked. 

Before he could react, I pulled her behind me, making sure my body was shielding her from Aiden.

"She's a gold-digging bitch. You stay away from her," he pointed at me as he tried to reach her. 

I pushed him away once and kept my hand on his weak, thin torso. Turning my head, I asked her for the last time, "Are you sure you want to go with him? I can save you. I will protect you, provide for you and keep you happy!" I urged her.

She looked at me with hope and helplessness. Slowly, she glanced at Aiden who looked like he was ready to commit murder. Sobbing uncontrollably, she removed the chain with the sunflower locket and threw it at his feet. 

"Leave me alone," she managed to mumble at him.

Furious, Aiden growled and tried to pounce at her. Fortunately, I intervened on time and punched his sorry excuse of a face into the ground. 

She gasped as Aiden fell with a thud. Embarrassed, he slowly got up and dusted himself, muttering under his breath as he sat inside his wreck of a car. 

"Don't bother coming back to gather your stuff! I am burning it all tonight you cock-sucking bitch!" and with that outburst, Aiden was finally gone.

She was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably at what had just transpired. I wrapped her in my arms to let her know she was safe. Within moments, I felt her ease into my body. 

I closed my eyes and smiled, my nose buried into her hair. My angel was safe. My angel was mine.

Chris blinked his eyes as he re-read his story. He already felt a whole lot lighter, his anxiety at ease, and mind exhausted. Clicking on SAVE, he finished the last of his beer and went to sleep, hoping that this was the end to his problems. Little did he know about the horrors that awaited him, behind the door he had just opened by writing that fictional story.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Chris Evans and his characters taglist: @onetwo3000

This story: @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @carpediemm-18

(If you guys don't want to be tagged in this, just let me know. No hard feelings 😊)

Taglists are open! Just comment, send an ask or a message!

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Objection

Note: I’m a sucker for AUs, so here is a Lawyer!Chris fic nobody asked for, the plot (or whatever) is veery loosely inspired by this book I’m reading atm (The Hating Game) and by the the fact that Chris talking about lawyer stuff is incredibly hot to me

Warning: swearing (a lot), smut, Chris bashing (for the story line, pls don’t take this seriously, I adore this man to death), NSFW, slight exhibitionism

Plus another warning, I am not a lawyer or trained in any other legal profession, so if there are inaccuracies in the way I used certain terms I am sorry

„Objection, your honor, this is hearsay!” you shouted, shooting a furious glance over to the defense table, and to the absolute menace standing in front of it.

Chris Cuomo. The most obnoxious, arrogant, loud-mouthed asshole you ever had the misfortune to meet in court. He was a senior partner at one of New York’s most prestigious law firms, specialized on getting their wealthy clients out of everything from tax fraud to outright corruption.

This man stood for everything that, in your opinion, was wrong with the justice system and this country in general. Everything about him screamed elitist, boarding school, frat boy, preppy rich guy that had everything handed to him on a silver platter. He flaunted his famous last name around whenever he had the chance and it got him right to the top of the business.

You, on the opposite, went to law school on a scholarship, worked your ass of and now practiced law working for the district attorney to prosecute and convict the very people Cuomo tried to kept out of jail to afford the ridiculous Upper East Side Penthouse he probably had. You tried to push the fact that he was one of the most brilliant lawyers you knew aside, because you just hated him. No respect, no admiration for his legal genius, he was the bane of your existence fair and square.

You clashed heads in court more than once, and by now he knew exactly how to rile you up, smug bastard. His current client was accused of tax and investment fraud of incredible extent, and there he was, trying to discredit your main witness in front of the jury with some ridiculous accusations about them having a personal vendetta against the defendant. You saw your case crumbling in front of you as the witness got tangled up in Cuomo’s relentless questioning, stumbling over their own words, their credibility shrinking with each minute.

He did what he did best, lulling in people with his charm and striking when they least expected it. And he always did it with his disgusting smile on his disgustingly handsome face. Yes, of course he had to be a hot, fit, well-built asshole, making your professional life miserable at every chance he got.

Sometimes, he even had the audacity to wink at you. In court. During a trial. You wanted to punch him in his perfect face more than anything else.

The judge disrupted your thoughts.

“Dismissed, Ms. Y/L/N, and mind your tone in my courtroom. And Mr. Cuomo, please keep your questions professional or this interrogation will be over.” The judge said, shooting the both of you a warning glance.

“No more questions anyway, your honor, I think the jury heard it all.” Cuomo said, and almost strutted back to the defense table. And with a look over to the jury, you knew he was probably right. They eyed your witness suspiciously, and you almost wanted to stomp down out of pure rage. The fucker just destroyed your chance for a swift conviction right in front of your eyes. You needed more time to gather new evidence, or this would be over.

“Your honor, the prosecution is asking the court for adjournment.” You said, trying your best to not let your frustration show.

“Granted, the trial will be continued tomorrow. Court is dismissed.”

You put the case files into your bag and practically stormed out of the court room, passing the defense table without as much as a sideward glance.

But he caught up with you in the parking deck of the building.

“You’re aware you can’t win this one, right, Y/L/N? It’s all circumstantial, even you should see that.” His smug voice suddenly said from behind you as you were just about to get into your car.

You whirled around, pulse hammering in your chest out of pure anger.

“This is unprofessional even by your standards, Cuomo, I’m not discussing this case with you in a parking lot. Now why don’t you get into this environmental nightmare you call a car and leave me the hell alone.” You hissed, pointing over to where his obnoxiously big SUV was standing.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Y/L/N, just because you can’t handle yourself in court.” He said, smirk still firmly in place. His hands were playing with the car keys, and you were mesmerized for a second by how large his hands were. They looked like shovels.

“Whatever you’re plotting in that weird little brain of yours, stop staring at me.” Cuomo said, actually sounding a bit unsettled. You snapped out of it and went right back into anger mode.

“Staring at you? God, you’re so fucking full of yourself, aren’t you, you condescending prick? Not everything revolves around you and your spoiled ass, Cuomo.”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, girl?” he snapped, raising his voice now. You clearly got to him, and seeing a crack in his arrogant façade gave you a satisfying sense of triumph. You couldn’t stop now, even if his angry face was screaming danger.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, your highness, are you used to people worshipping the ground you walk on because you had the dumb luck to be born with the Cuomo name? Fun fact, nobody cares, you’re still an asshole, just with a fancy suit.” You really threw all caution away, and one look at Cuomo told you that you’ve definitely gone too far.

Because he was livid. There was a vein on his temple that was literally pulsating, his hands were balled to fists at his side and his blue eyes were so full of fury that you were scared to look directly at him.

He took two giant steps in your direction, backing you up against your car. You were caught, Cuomo’s giant frame in front of you with no way to escape his wrath.

You looked up at him, daring to meet his eyes directly. He looked at you like he was about to kill you. You tried to recall your fury from some seconds ago, but the heat radiating from his body and the way his huge arms had you trapped on both sides of your head were making it impossible for you to focus. Damn him for being so attractive. You wanted to fight him, but you also wanted to press yourself against his body and feel what was underneath that suit.

“You presumptuous little…” he spat, stopping himself before saying something truly insulting. He took a deep breath, and looked at you again. And then he saw it.

The way you were biting your lip, the way your pupils were dilated.

And he smiled, a cruel smirk that send shivers down your spine. He brought his face even closer to yours and dropped his voice.

“You know, I got really good at reading people, comes with the job, I guess. But you are making it so easy for me, Y/L/N, look at you?” His mouth was at your ear now, his hot breath tickling your neck.

“Do you really want me to leave you alone? Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

You could barely think straight anymore, you wanted to tell him to fuck off, but it just came out as an embarrassing, needy whimper.

He chuckled darkly, and goosebumps broke out all over your body. Why did this man, that you hated more than almost anyone else, reduce to a state of arousal you had never experienced before just by whispering in your ear? Your panties were already soaked, and he didn’t even touch you. With your last few functioning brain cells, you cursed your needy, weak body, before you tiled your head to the side, baring your neck to Chris mouth.

He breathed over your skin, teasing you without actually touching. You felt like you were going insane.

“Please.” You whispered.

“What? Use your words, darling.”

“Kiss my neck, touch me, anything, just do it, asshole.” You hissed, glad you were able to form a coherent sentence.

“So impolite.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of your neck before starting to suck lightly. You moaned softly and pressed your pelvis into his. You could feel his hardness through his slacks, his unaffected behavior was clearly an act, he was just as aroused as you were.

One of his hands went down to squeeze your ass hard, bringing another surge of wetness to your panties.

Seeing him getting into this gave you some of your courage back, and you started to grind against him, making him growl against your neck.

“Is that everything you got, Cuomo.” You asked, trying to rile him up a bit. You really enjoyed the way he was manhandling you, as much as it pained you to admit it. But his hands were wandering under your skirt now, so you might as well just go with it.

Your provocative behavior clearly had the desired effect on him, because he grabbed your waist in a bruising grip, spun you around and pinned you against your car, his erection pressing against your ass. He yanked up your skirt and tore off your panties, leaving your lower body completely bare.

By now, you were glad that you picked the parking spot on the top floor, because your two cars were the only ones left and no one would come up here at this hour to catch you, about to be railed against your vehicle by Chris Cuomo.

“My, my, Y/L/N, this really turns you on, doesn’t it?” You could hear his breathy voice from behind you, and then felt a thick finger slowly being pressed into your aching pussy, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Fuck, you already are so wet for me.” Chris growled.

“Are you going to fuck me soon, or do I have to take care of it myself?” You asked, teasingly.

He swore under his breath and gave your ass a sharp slap, making you welp.

You heard the sound of his zipper, and the rustle of foil.

“You really brought a condom to court, Cuomo? Wow, you are even more shameless than I imagined.”

“Shut up.” He growled, and you did, because he lined up his cock and slowly started pressing into you. He was big, and you had to bury your face into your arm to muffle the obscene sounds coming out of your mouth at the feeling of being stretched like this. He bottomed out with a low moan, and immediately started a fast, hard pace, pushing you against your car with every move of his hips.

You turned your head around to look at him. His face was flushed, and his eyes were fixed on the sight of his cock sliding in and out of you.

The friction was delicious, and he was hitting a perfect spot deep inside you with every thrust. Your moans became louder and louder, and he pressed one of his large hands over your mouth.

“Be quiet, you don’t want someone to catch little Miss Righteous being screwed in the parking lot by big, bad Cuomo, don’t you?” he whispered in your ear between husky breaths, and you could only cry out against his palm as he was speeding up his thrusts. The idea of someone catching you here was as arousing as it was terrifying.

Suddenly, Chris other hand sneaked around you to press on your clit, hard, and you screamed into his hand as your orgasm hit you like a punch to the gut, your walls gripping his cock like a vice while he was still fucking you through your climax.

“That’s it, darling, come for me. Fuck.” He groaned, before suddenly going tense as he reached his peak as well, cock buried deep inside you.

You slumped against your car with a huff, and the brief glimpse you caught of your reflection in the window made you question what you just did even more. Not only did you have (amazing, mind-blowing) sex with the opposing lawyer, he also absolutely wrecked you, you looked like you just had the roughest night ever with your hair undone, your makeup smudged and your panties in shreds on the floor of the parking lot. You hastily pulled down your skit again and tried to fix your hair as much as possible to get a minimum of decorum back.

Chris was just disposing the condom into a nearby bin, already looking calm and composed again. You hated him for that, and for the broad, self-satisfied grin that was all over his face again. And still, your heart gave a little flip as he approached you.

“That was fun.” He smirked, “We should definitely do that again. But not today, I’m busy. See you in court.”

He started to make his way to his car, and there was definitely a spring in his step.

“In your dreams, Cuomo.” You mumbled after him but couldn’t suppress a smile. That was, until you looked into the side mirror of your car to check your makeup and saw the giant, purple bruise on the side of your neck.

“Cuomo!” you screamed. “Come back here right now, you imbecile, you gave me a fucking hickey!”

“Better wear a scarf then tomorrow!” he called, entering his car. “And don’t make plans for after the trial, I’m taking you to dinner to celebrate my victory. And I mean that.”

And with that, he drove off. And as much as you hated yourself to admit it, you were really looking forward to having dinner with this idiot. After you destroyed him in court, of course.

[addaellisplaysgames]

((Just something inspired by the new Mysteries of the Lost Gold Trailer. Probably not canon-compliant and at least a little OOC. Luke x MC/ Raven x Rosa.))

WC: 1854

His Rosa was scrutinizing something from a market stall when he found her. Luke watched fondly for a while before softly tapping her and taking her hand, careful now to startle her. She rewarded him with a relaxed smile.

“Look, it’s seaweed!” She showed him the hair clip. At first he thought it was a regular poppy flower, carved out of wire and cloth. But as his Rosa had observed, the texture of the flower, the thin carved veins on the surface, and the way it was folded resembled red seaweed with small silk beads for stamens.

“I didn’t even know red seaweed looked so different,” she mused. “It must have taken a lot of effort to carve the flower like that.” She set the hair clip down and turns to him. “Did Adjudicator get in contact with the dealer?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied. “We’ll talk about the details later.” He pinned the hair clip on her, replacing the usual clip. “It’s cute. You should get it.”

“You always say that,” she said, but her cheeks blushed happily from his compliment.

“Well, you’re always cute.”

“You silly….”

“Excuse me storekeep, how much for the hair clip?”

———

Rifle. Check. Scope. Check. Ghille. Check. Wind. Check. Target…in sights.

Luke carefully tracked the man between his crosshairs as they walked to the meeting point. He looked up and could see Libra and Rosa standing a few feet away, calmly keeping the target in position. He hated that she was so close yet so far away, and he hated that she was in danger again. But he was proud of how calm and brave she was even facing off a notorious criminal who called himself the “God of Death.”

Luke returned his eye to the scope. In the National Security Bureau, snipers were sometimes called gods of death themselves, for being able to rain silent death from afar. He preferred his Sherlock Holmes moniker, but if being a God of Death was what it took to take down this criminal, then that’s what he would have to be.

Luke took a deep breath…And fired.

Luke’s heart jolted when the rifle went off. It wasn’t the recoil or even the dulled bang of the gun. It wasn’t even the prospect of killing another human, even if the shot had been lethal. But just as he’d fired, he could have sworn he’d seen a flash of familiar red through the crosshairs.

———

Artem Wing was having a very surreal day. Raven and Rosa flirting over a hair clip was nothing unusual, and neither was arguing with King or even Adjudicator agreeing to this whole ridiculous plan with a creepy smile. But the sunny beaches and clear waters seemed too idyllic to be hiding a gang of murderers. For the legend of gold to be poison…this whole paradisal island was built on poison and blood.

Still, setting the target up for a sniper’s bullet—even if it was simply a tranquilizing bullet—sounded awfully like an assassination to him. Artem was an attorney after all, a pillar of justice and legal operation. Due process wasn’t just a motto, it was a creed he solemnly swore by. But the dealer this time was a confirmed killer, and had already escaped justice multiple times. Taking him down by normal means was simply out of the option. And if Raven was as good as he was confident, if they got the right suspect immediately…then this could be over in one shot.

The meeting and conversation itself seemed to go smoothly. Too smoothly. It was like he was in a dream world, and he didn’t even have to think to say the right words to placate the dealer. As the interaction was wrapping up, his partner suddenly whispered to him. They had the wrong guy. This had been a set up—They had to let Raven know the right target right away before a potential innocent was hurt in the crossfire—

But when that one shot happened. Artem watched in slow motion as the supposed dealer was flung back, clutching his shoulder and screaming in shock. His partner collapsed on the ground. Her eyes squeezed shut. There was blood in her hair.

Next to her laid the tattered remains of the poppy hair clip. The tiny beads scattered like dark red grains of pepper sunk into the pristine sand. The carefully carved red seaweed folds were torn to mangled shreds of cloth, like another life sacrificed before the golden alter of the God of Death.

———

According to the plan, Artem would be doing most of the talking. She glanced around, noting the dealer’s bodyguards around the space.

The dealer seemed nervous, but that wasn’t itself unusual. They were attorneys after all, and anyone would be hesitant to talk to lawyers, regardless of how many times they had gotten away. But she studied how his too-casual crossed arms contradicted the fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves—which were a tad too long for a dealer that could more than afford to have every suit hand-tailored. Yet his head seemed unusually still, as though the hat on it was a crown. Hm…

She kept one ear on the conversation as she studied the bodyguards again surreptitiously. The dealer hesitated. And then she saw one bodyguard shift—his face barely moved, but his neck moved as though he were speaking. He stopped, and the dealer spoke again.

She suddenly remembered how the ex-con had said the dealer was particularly paranoid, and how he continued to avoid capture and death. Calling himself “God of Death”, he seduced his victims with golden poison, and commanded loyalty through fear and an antidote just out of reach. All who voiced complaint would mysteriously vanish….

The conversation was coming to a close. The dealer signaled for his bodyguards to leave, and she knew the way were running out of time. The suspicious bodyguard was turning around to leave, and she noticed he was slightly taller than the dealer. And his shoes—brand new boots, without a scratch.

“This is the wrong man,” she said quietly to Artem. “The real culprit—“

She held her hand up to reveal the decoy, and suspicion and alarm flashed through the fake dealer’s eyes. He dealer grabbed her, pulling her in front of him and shouting for Artem not to move, else he’d snap the pretty girl’s neck. But before anyone could do anything, an invisible force whistled past her head, throwing the fake dealer back. He howled, but all she felt was ringing in her ears and a forceful tug, like someone yanking her braids. The world around her turned black for a moment, and she found herself on the ground, covered in sand.

“The bodyguard!” She called out, pointing. She struggled to move but her legs felt like jelly and her head was spinning like she was thrown into a centrifuge. She tried calling out again, because Artem wasn’t looking—he was kneeling by her side, eyes blown wide with concern and fear. “The bodyguard is the real dealer! He’s getting away!”

The suspicious bodyguard was running without a backwards glance for his decoy, and the groups as quickly collapsing around him. She fought through the throbbing in her head to keep an eye on him. Marius was nearby, she knew, ready to be backup. Her fingers trembled on the phone. “King! The real dealer is reaching the road now, the one on the motorcycle—don’t let him get away!”

———

It was over. Marius had pulled some crazy motor-cross stunts and managed to take down the suspicious bodyguard. The police had arrived to take all involved into custody, and the decoy had joined them once the tranquilizer wore off. As obnoxious as the little brat was, Luke had to give Marius credit for understanding what happened and taking down the target before they could get away.

The real hero though, was perched on the couch talking to him. He handed her a cup of tea, and took the ice pack from her ankle. “Wasn’t this supposed to be for your head? Are you feeling that much better already?” He asked lightly.

Rosa simply nodded, sipping lightly on the tea. Luke had made sure it was cool just enough so she wouldn’t be dangerous even if she did spill it. “The ringing stopped a while ago. I think I twisted my ankle trying to run in the sand though.” She sat up straight. “Are you okay?”

Luke sighed self-deprecatingly. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’re the one that nearly got shot.”

She set the tea aside, cupping his cheeks to look her in the eye. “Dr. Ritcher said there doesn’t seem to be any damage, psychological or physical. I guess I was too focused on the case to realize I was nearly shot. You and Artem were the ones that had to watch.”

He nuzzled into her soft touch. “My heart nearly stopped,” he confessed. “He moved so suddenly. I thought I’d accommodated for that, but then I saw you fall….”

“But it was a tranquilizing dart, not a real bullet.”

“But he’s a much bigger person!” Luke exclaimed. “That dose might have been lethal for you. And it wasn’t supposed to be delivered to your head! And then…there was blood in your hair…I’m so sorry.”

His Watson—his brave and clever Watson—was undeterred. She patted him gently as she explained again. “It was just the decoy yanking my hair so suddenly and the sound of the dart so close that startled me. And it was his blood. I’m fine.” She smiled brightly, banishing the dark clouds that had been swirling around his heart with radiant confidence. “I never doubted you’d hit your target precisely. You’re my beloved Sherlock, right?”

He hugged her close, hoping he could shelter her from everything, even himself. “I’m yours.”

———

It had been a few days since they returned to Stellis. The bell of his antique store announced a visitor, and Peanut’s excited chirp announced his girlfriend. “In all the commotion after the case I forgot t give this to you,” she said, approaching the desk. She paused to hold out a finger to Peanut, who landed with a happy trill. “I thought your old keychain could use a well deserved break.”

Luke took the tissue-paper wrapped gift. It was a keychain of a distinctive detective’s hat and pipe, carved out of a seashell and coated in resin. “This was what you had gotten? I thought…I thought you’d gotten yourself a present.”

“A present for you is a present for me, silly,” she replied, entertaining Peanut with a toy. “Do you dislike it?”

“No, it’s amazing,” he said, immediately attaching the keychain to his camera. “Actually, I have a surprise for you too,” Luke said. He set a hair clip in front of her: gentle red cloth and wire, etched to look like red seaweed, but folded like a flower.

“The hair clip! You remade it?”

“Except this time as a rose,” he said shyly.

She pinned it to her hair immediately, twirling to show it off. “How is it?”

“Cute,” he said, wrapping his arms around her gently. “You’re always cute.”

“I think I like this one better,” she murmured against his chest. “You made it for me after all.”

“I do too. Truly, a rose represents you best.”

[tcstu]

January’s Honorable Mentions

This month’s piece generated some incredible stories. I chose this work of art believing there were numerous tales buried within it, and I was not disappointed. Each entry took a completely different perspective on what is happening in this scene. If you enjoy one of the Honorable Mentions below, please let the writer know. I’m sure they would love to hear from you.

As a reminder, I celebrated the new year by featuring one of my favorite artists, @hydraart​​. If you’ve been following this contest, you may remember that this artist was also featured in January of 2019 and 2020. This seems to now be a New Year’s tradition, and I am happy to be able to continue it this year. If you would like to see the pieces previously featured by this artist, you can view them here:

January 2020

May 2019

January 2019

The piece for this month was titled, “Hide and Seek.” Here it is along with the Honorable Mentions for this month:

(These entries are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.)

Untitled

Written by: @emilyelizabethfowl​

Ten

She couldn’t tell whether the breeze she felt came from nature or from Its wings.

Nine

At least she didn’t have to worry about the smell betraying her hiding spot.

Eight

Sound, however, was a different matter entirely.

Seven

But her legs were starting to feel numb…

Six

It certainly wouldn’t hurt to move them, just a little, would it?

Five

Just a teeny tiny little bit…

Four

Slowly, carefully, she stretched her left leg.

Three

Then, bringing it back, she stretched out her right one.

Two

But she did it too fast, too carelessly.

One

Losing balance, she fell down. Her elbow knocked into the giant sheet of metal she was hiding under, the sound carrying far.  

Zero

Barely seconds later, giant talons dented the metal, ripping it away easily.

Found you!

Aw, shucks.

She stood up, turning to face the creature.

“Best three out of five?” she offered.

It’s already past your bedtime. A deal is a deal.

Ah well. It was worth a try. She climbed the creature’s back, clinging tightly to the feathers longer than she was tall.

She’d win their next game for sure!

“Eleanor And The Great Bird”

Written by: @evanthenerd83​

“Do not move,” Eleanor whispers to herself, thin frame curled inward.

The flapping of wings drowns out her panicked breathing. Dust swirls around. Bits and pieces rain down, and they sound like bullet casings striking metal.

Eleanor could recognize the sound anywhere. It is as familiar as her grandfather’s wartime movies. Black and white visions of the dead.

“Do not move,” Eleanor reminds herself, eyes scanning the words scratched into the steel.

The great bird passes overhead, and the entire shard shakes with its might. She bites her lip. A moment of terrible silence.

It is circling around. Coming back.

“Do… not… move,” Eleanor repeats, unaware that it doesn’t matter.

The shelter is just a jagged piece of roof. It isn’t big enough to hide her, not all of her. Not her shadow.

And unfortunately, the sun is burning in her direction.

The great bird has locked on.

The great bird makes one last turn…

Sit Com

Created by @daalseth​ ( Doug Aalseth )

"Ma!!" came the anguished cry.

"What is it?" replied his mother, her voice drenched in fatigue.

"Billy smashed up my 172 scale model Medieval Human Village."

"Now Tommy..."

"It wasn't me," shouted Billy. "I wouldn't do nothing with your stupid model."

"Yes it was," shouted Tommy waving his wing at the table. "That's your feather laying right there."

"Nuh-huh."

"Uh-huh."

"Nuh-huh."

Their mother rubbed a talon against her throbbing forehead. It was going to be a long day. Maybe it was time to just kick the little bastards out of the nest? She looked at the two chicks arguing. "No," she said softly, "I'll give it one more day."

“Whatever It Takes”

Written by: @winterrose42​

I dug my fingers deep into the ground as I curled tighter into myself, squeezing my eyes shut in a vain effort to concentrate. This had to work- in the end it’s all I could do, whatever God that’s left forgive me. I could feel the beast looming impossibly large behind me, breath wuffing over the ruined plains like winds before a storm. A low growl thundered from its throat and I dug harder even as my fingernails protested and bent from the dirt being shoved underneath them. I couldn’t fail. I had to find them, and to do that I needed to make it out alive. To do that…

I felt it suddenly, claws slicing easily into the dirt deep enough that I’m sure someone could make a bomb shelter of it later. The tips of its heavy wings brushed the uneven ground, dragging stone and steel along as they swayed in rest. Feeling the pull of its head was the worst; it had seen me that much I knew, darting from toppled building to ruined tower to hastily put up shelter as  fast as my legs could carry me had not been fast enough. It’s great shriek had nearly deafened me as it shook the earth landing just a few yards away from where I had crouched. The few warriors who had gathered to head off the beast- they all knew in their hearts they hadn’t a chance of making it.

That’s what I kept telling myself as the beast’s arm raised and came crashing down to sweep away fallen debris and lean to steel sheets and scattered weapons, armor and men alike, leaving them to try and bury themselves yet again. Collect their wits and reorganize perhaps. I couldn’t afford to give them that chance. Setting everything in motion the wings swept back, the arms came up, the eyes focused forward, sharp beak opening wide with vocal chords straining to make its signature call- and so it was done.

All at once I severed the connection, feeling impossibly small and weak and useless once again as the ground shook like an earthquake with the speed at which the beast fell, screaming its indignation at being puppeted for as long as it had, intelligent eyes snapping forward to those running for better cover, myself sitting still and forgotten for the moment in light of more easily accessed prey. I covered my ears and closed my eyes, whispering out a prayer of forgiveness to carry on the artificial wind for those who cared to hear it.

Eventually the shaking ceased, noise quieted, beast placated if only for a moment making it possible to crawl out and stand up though I dared not turn around. Sticking to the irrational belief that my imagined carnage was worse and therefore I was absolved of blame I squared my shoulders and turned west.

I had survived and would continue to do so through whatever means necessary. I would survive. And I would find them.

Maran-do

Written by: @spoldhamindieauthor​ (S.P. Oldham)

Maran huddled beneath the toppled roof of a ruined dwelling, sitting now upon the ground, broken and battered. All of the buildings in this tiny hamlet told a similar story; one of destruction and wrath.

Maran heaved a silent sigh. He had sent out Maran-do, his mind partner, when the day was still bright, her task to bring down anyone he had not dispatched. Very few would be daring enough to try to evade her. It would take a remarkable being indeed to slip past Maran-do unnoticed, avoiding her wicked talons. He had never known it happen yet.

Maran-do hung in the air now like a dark, oppressive shadow. She had been the foretelling of death for so many souls, Maran had long since stopped counting.

He had never imagined she would foretell his own death, too. Maran frowned, trying to recall such a thing happening before. What could possibly cause a mind-partner to turn upon its host? It was unheard of.

He knew the tiniest movement would be enough to alert her to his whereabouts. Resisting the urge to break cover and run, Maran struggled with ordering his thoughts. That was the biggest problem. Maran-do was inside his head as well as outside it. She knew his own mind better than he knew it himself.

How could he possibly escape? Wherever he went, Maran-do would go with him. Why had she turned on him? In a rare moment of self-pity, Maran gave a sniff.

It was enough. He could feel the air outside shifting, darkness looming over his hiding place like an unstoppable, oncoming storm. For the briefest instant, Maran felt the terror and utter helplessness so many had known before.

A large talon tapped impatiently before him. Inside his head, the words ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are’ blossomed into life like clouds of puffed smoke, Maran-do taunting him with his own phrase.

“Why?” Maran breathed, “Why do you turn upon me?”

More words of smoke, ‘I am to be mind-partner to a greater one than you, little Maran,’ using the childhood endearment, ‘Your mind is weak. You take much pleasure from death and killing. I belong to a greater mind than yours,’ she repeated.

She raised her foot. Maran flinched as, above him, the beams and planks of the rough wooden roof began to splinter. Instinctively he crouched, making himself smaller, as if he could avoid being crushed.

He had just enough time to wonder how she could survive without his mind to host her. Then he was gone; snuffed out like a bare candle in a blizzard.

Maran-do stretched her wings, letting out a silent shriek as her head turned to the west. A new host awaited her, a new name forming in her mind even as she rose from the earth. A path of flight was shown to her fathomless mind, stretching like an umbilical cord across the skies.

Maran was dead.

So was Maran-do.

Tethered

Written by: @wildler

I heard the spirits before I saw them—their strangled moans carrying through the smoke-stained air. Carys whinnied beneath me, her ears twitching in all directions.

“Easy girl,” I murmured, stroking her neck. “Only a little further. Should be the next clearing.”

The sound continued, growing stronger as we pushed closer to where the village was rumoured to be. I tugged the hood of my cloak from my head, sweat sticking my hair to my neck. It seemed my limited healing skills had arrived too late to be of use—but my other skills—well, perhaps I would return to the king with something more substantial than rumours at last.

We entered the clearing, the devastation hitting me like a sword to the gut. Homes had been scalped, gutted and burned. Their charred remains left crumbling into the earth. Spirits inhabited the ruins. Flickers of human outlines that cried out as they relived their violent, final moments of existence. Their fear keeping them tethered to this plane.

I dismounted Carys and pressed my hands to the ground, shuddering as the sweat on my neck turned cold. A haze of panic blanketed the site like thick smoke, making it impossible to get a sense of the events leading to its ruin. I sank my fingers into the soil and focused my will, trying again.

Sounds and smells came rushing at me, distorted screams on a hot jet of air. My eyes sprang open to find the spirits staring in eerie silence, their gaze passing right through me to something on the horizon.

I heard the presence before I saw it—a monstrous shriek carried on a blast of flame.  It was an end too terrifying and binding to escape.

And so, I relive it again.

[allsassnoclass]

i blame it on the weather (can you make it better)

Pairing: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Key Tag(s): College AU, Cold, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word Count: 6,177

Read on AO3

A/N: this was tailor-made for @michaelownsmyheart​. I hope you like it darling <3 also big shout out to @clumsyclifford​ for looking this over and giving me Good Advice

—

Michael doesn’t remember the dorm being this cold when he left in December.  He doesn’t know how the space between him and Calum got that cold, either.

—

The drive back to campus feels shorter than normal, songs on the radio flying by with other cars on the highway the further Michael gets from his family and the closer he gets to the loneliness of an empty dorm.  Normally he wouldn’t mind having the place to himself, especially because that means he can blast music as loud as he wants and no one else is going to take the shower with the good water pressure, but there’s something foreboding about it now.

His phone is still empty of messages from the one person he’s been waiting to hear from.  Two weeks alone in the dorms wouldn’t be so bad if he had Calum on the other end of the line to keep him company.

He pulls into his parking spot right as snow begins to fall, a little earlier than predicted.  He sends a quick text to his parents to let them know he made it safe, then grabs his bags and makes the trek to his dorm.  It’s an older building elegantly nestled between the newer residence halls with better air conditioning or elevators that don’t break down every month, but there’s more character to it.  The other dorms are boxy and made of dark brick, but this one is lighter with turrets at the top and heavy wooden doors.  It looks more like a fantasy castle than a dorm building, and Michael’s mum had fallen in love with it immediately on their campus tour a few years ago.  Now that Michael is living here it’s lost some of its luster, but it’s also the only building to have single rooms, and while having Luke as a roommate turned out alright in the end last year, he likes being able to have the room to himself all of the time.

Michael fumbles for his key card to swipe himself in, biting off one of his gloves so he can get it out of his wallet.  Thick flakes land on his coat and hands, the kind that would probably be good for making snowmen if he still did stuff like that but that will be hell to drive in later.  Hopefully the roads will be clear enough by tomorrow, and he probably has some ramen that he never made from last semester that he can heat up for dinner tonight.

Inside doesn’t feel much warmer than outside, but there’s no snow or wind.  Michael stomps his feet in an attempt to get all of the snow off his boots, but freezes as soon as he glances up.

Nestled amongst the armchairs, big windows, fireplace, piano, and little side tables that make up the front lounge, Calum Hood stares back at him like a deer in headlights.  He’s got a notebook and pencil in his hand and a textbook open in front of him, blanket wrapped around his shoulders in a way that Michael wishes he were.  He looks exactly the same as he did when Michael last saw him a few weeks ago, except he’s fully clothed this time.  He looks good.  He looks cozy.

He looks like Michael is the last person he wants to see.

Michael clears his throat.

“I didn’t know you were back on campus,” he says.

“I’m taking a j-term and thought it’d be easier to focus here,” Calum replies, lifting the notebook halfheartedly.  “It’s a prereq for my chem class this semester.  It turns out that switching majors put me a bit behind this time.”

Michael nods.  Calum started as a music education major, then switched to an elementary education major before realizing he didn’t want to deal with little kids.  Now he’s studying to be a high school science teacher, which means he has a few freshman science classes he needs to squeeze into his schedule.  He hadn’t said anything about a j-term to Michael when he registered, but they also haven’t exactly been communicating much since before finals.

“I didn’t expect anyone back yet,” Calum says eventually.

“I got permission to come back early so I can take a few more shifts.  Gotta pay for college somehow, you know…”

Michael trails off, unbalanced and uncomfortable.  It feels wrong to be reacting like this around Calum, just like it felt wrong to not hear from him during finals or break, but after a few more moments of uncomfortable silence and chewing his lip he hefts his bag higher on his shoulder and makes an excuse about wanting to get his room back to rights.  He feels Calum’s eyes on him as he leaves, the weight of his gaze lingering even after Michael has entered the stairwell, dug out his key, and entered his room.  When he takes off his jacket he immediately reaches for a blanket, wrapping himself up and trying to suppress the shivers threatening to erupt throughout his body.

He doesn’t remember the dorm being this cold when he left in December.  He doesn’t know how the space between him and Calum got that cold, either.

-/-

Once he has a bowl of instant ramen in front of him and his stuff more or less put away, Michael calls Luke.

“Good morning,” Luke answers, a leftover joke gone stale from when they were roommates with opposite sleep schedules.  It almost makes him wish for a simpler time when Luke was forcing him to go places like Welcome Week events and they were literally running into people like Calum and Luke was forcing them all to be friends even though Michael’s smoothie got spilled and Calum dropped his nachos.  Michael would take being newly flustered over a hot guy who got a strawberry drink all over his favorite sweatshirt rather than having Calum not fucking talk to him.

“Did you know that Calum’s doing a j-term?”

Luke sighs on the other end of the line.

“I’m doing fine, Michael, thank you for asking.  How are you?”

“I’m bad.  Calum is here and no one warned me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell him that you would be back early, either.”

“That much was obvious.”  Michael stirs his noodles, suddenly feeling like he doesn’t have the right appetite for this.  “He looked like me showing up was the worst thing in the world.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not,” he says.  “You should’ve seen him.  He hates me now, and I still don’t know what I did wrong.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Luke says.  “He misses you, too.”

“If he misses me so much, he should respond to my texts.”

Luke hums on the other end of the line.

“You’re both in the same place now.  Maybe you can corner him in person.”

“I wouldn’t have to do that if someone would just tell me what happened.”

“What happened is that you two slept together and then Calum ghosted you,” Luke sighs.  “If you want his reasoning, you have to ask him.  I will not be a messenger pigeon for you two.”

“I feel like that metaphor works best only if he’s been asking about me, too,” Michael says.  Luke doesn’t respond right away, a drawn out pause that makes Michael look up from his noodles.  He wishes they were video chatting so he could see what sort of expression Luke is wearing. “Luke, has he asked about me?”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” Luke says.

“You fucker, he has talked about me!  Do you know why he ghosted me?”

“Stop using me as a go-between!  If you want to know why Calum hasn’t replied to your messages, ask him yourself.  You both need to get your heads out of your asses and communicate.  I can’t believe I’m the one who has to say that.”

Silence descends and Michael pulls his phone away from his ear to see that Luke hung up on him.  Michael huffs.  A second later his phone lights up with an incoming call, a very unattractive picture of Luke staring at him from his screen.  He considers letting it ring out and go to voicemail, but in the end he decides to take the high ground and answer.

“What,” he says flatly.

“Sorry I hung up on you,” Luke says.  “I don’t like being caught between you both.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.  “I don’t like it, either.”

“Will you try to talk to him?  He’ll let you if it’s in person.”

“I guess.”

Luke hums.  They stay on the phone a little longer, small talk filling the silence so Michael doesn’t have to be alone while he eats, but he knows he’s being a bad conversation partner, too distracted by what Calum may or may not have been saying about him to Luke.  When they finally hang up Michael flops back on his bed and groans, wondering if he should just move to Antarctica and change his name rather than put himself through this.

-/-

He manages to go the rest of the night without any indication that Calum is there.  They miss each other in the bathroom, but every sound in the hallway has the hair on his arms standing on end, wondering if it could be Calum or just the settling of the near-empty building.  He sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning on the sub-par dorm mattress, cuddling deeper into his blanket in an attempt to find some much-needed warmth.

The last night he spent with Calum, and the first night they’d spent together in that way, Michael fell asleep warm.  It was almost too hot, sticky under the covers and burning wherever their skin touched, but he loved it.  He’d take the heat over the cold any day, and he hasn’t felt warm since he woke up alone, bed feeling too big without the other boy in it to act as his personal space heater.

That morning the sheets had still smelled like him, but they were cold.  He’d left long before Michael woke up.  Michael’s first morning back feels like a mirror of that day.  Right before he fully wakes up he catches himself reaching for Calum and coming up empty.  When he realizes what he had been doing, he forces himself to get up rather than stay in bed and wallow only because he can’t afford to be late to work on his first day back and he doesn’t trust the roads to be cleared yet.  The college is situated on the outskirts of town, an odd placement that puts a woodsy area to one side and only a few smaller shops next to it.  Michael hadn’t managed to land a job in one of those places, but the family-owned restaurant he works at pays enough to be worth the gas it takes to get there.  He throws on a hoodie and slippers and shuffles to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Calum is already at one of the sinks when he enters.  Michael doesn’t let his eyes stray from his face, refusing to take in the tan shoulders and torso or the drops of water glistening against him, leading down to the towel wrapped around his hips.  He has a toothbrush in his mouth, foam gathering at the corners of his lips, lips that Michael has--

No.  He can’t think about this now.

“Morning,” he says, clearing his throat to get it to work properly.

“Morning,” Calum replies around his toothbrush, consonants muffled.  He spits into the sink and Michael makes himself focus on his own morning routine, meticulously putting toothpaste on his own brush and hoping it’s not obvious that even glancing at Calum is dangerous for him right now.

Neither of them try to say anything more, and Michael wonders if the silence is hanging as heavily in the air for Calum as it is for him.  Before break, silences between them were the only types of silences Michael could stand.  He’s fidgety by nature and gets uncomfortable without background noise, but Calum always managed to temper that a bit.  Being around him settles something inside, something that right now makes Michael want to scream.

He’s about to try to break the silence when Calum picks up his bathroom caddy and leaves without so much as a glance his way.  Michael tries not to let it bother him, but he misses the weight of his gaze.  Calum used to look at him fondly, filled with enough affection that Michael could feel it in his heart.  He doesn’t understand why that would have to change now.

By the time Michael goes to start his car for work, Calum has set himself up in the lounge again, laptop open in front of him.  He’s turned on the fireplace, something that Michael thinks they're not technically supposed to do but that he’s certainly not going to call him on, and he doesn’t look up when Michael comes down the stairs.  Michael lingers by the doorway longer than he should.

They’ve spent a lot of time in this room, whether doing homework on the couch, trying to play duets on the piano in the corner, or hogging the chess set by the window, figuring out how to play and passing the time.

The chess board is set up for a fresh game.  In a naive fit of hope Michael walks over to it and moves one of the pawns forward.  Calum doesn’t glance up from his computer, but he’s still in a way that means he knows what Michael is doing.

On his way out he thinks he hears someone say drive safe, but the howling of the wind is already filling his ears and he can’t be sure.

-/-

Michael gets sent home early because of the snow.  He fights it all the way there, pulling in late because he had to move so slow, and halfway through his shift the manager calls it, deciding to close up for the day.  Right after he clocks out Michael gets a notification on his phone for a severe blizzard alert, and he steels himself to face it before leaving behind the warmth of the restaurant.  Outside the world is covered in a thick sheet of white, plows not able to keep up with the large flakes still falling from the sky, and Michael wills his car to survive the drive, windshield wipers going furiously in an attempt to keep him seeing as much as he can.  The drive takes three times longer than usual, and when he finally spots his dorm through the snow it comes with a sigh of relief.

Calum is still in the lounge when he comes inside and stomps his feet to get some feeling back into them.  With the snow came a biting wind, and even after barely being outside he feels frozen.

“I was getting worried,” Calum says, startling him.  “It looks like it’s bad out there.”

“It is,” Michael says, taking off his hat and shaking snow off of it.  He squints at Calum, in a different position and bundled in a blanket now, the big blue one that Mali got him as a grad present.  Michael once again has to push away the urge to cuddle up to him.

“It’s fucking cold,” he says instead, because it’s true and if he doesn’t make small talk he’s going to blurt something embarrassing like I’ve been thinking about you all the time or why did you leave me or I love you I love you I love you I’m sorry please can we be friends again?

“Going to be a cold night for us, then,” Calum says.  “The heating’s been shit this break.  I don’t think they keep it up as high when there’s only one student here.”

“I’ve had a few cold nights,” Michael snorts before he thinks about it.  “I mean--I’ll use some extra blankets.”

Calum nods once.  He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then snaps it shut again, looking down at his computer.  It feels like a dismissal, like Michael isn’t worth his time anymore, and it stings.

He should go upstairs, anyway.  He needs to find some blankets of his own.  He glances over the piano and the fireplace, eyes landing on the chess game by the window.

Someone has moved a pawn on the other side.  He glances at Calum, then moves a knight, continuing the game.  He wants to ask Calum to sit down and play a proper round with him, but one glance at Calum’s posture has him biting his tongue.  He’s closed off, blanket wrapped around him securely and face tense, and Michael can’t bring himself to bother him, not when interacting with Michael seems to be the last thing he wants to do.

Michael looks back at the chess set, three pieces out of place, and heads to his room.

-/-

The night comes simultaneously fast and slow in the way that all boring winter nights do.  Michael sits in his room scrolling through social media while the sun sets around him, and when he does eventually get up it’s only so he can make more ramen to eat.  He had lunch at the restaurant and never did get to the grocery store, but he has a few snacks to munch on and if things get really bad he can always see if Calum has anything he’s willing to share.

Calum initiated conversation earlier, so things can’t be too bad between them, right?  It’s still terribly stiff and uncomfortable, but at least he’s not getting the silent treatment anymore.  At least Calum looked at him for a little bit.

He plays video games until he’s too bored to continue, then showers and crawls into bed.  It’s still cold, just like Calum said it would be, but they haven’t lost power yet.  Michael piles on the blankets and pillows, but his sheets are frigid, not yet warmed by his body heat and making him shiver.  After a few minutes of tossing and turning he considers boiling water just to have a warm mug to hold in his hands.

Maybe it’ll be better in the lounge with the fireplace on.  No one’s here to get mad at him for falling asleep on the couch, but then he’d have to haul all of his blankets down there, something that he doesn’t think he has the energy for right now.

He wishes Calum were here.  It feels like all he’s done since getting back to campus is think about Calum, his presence in the building affecting him more than it would have if he was fully alone, but in a pragmatic sense he also really wants a warm body next to him right now.  Two people under the covers are warmer than one, and he’s already put on socks and a hoodie.  Wrapping himself in Calum would keep him warm on a physical level, and maybe it’ll settle him enough that he’ll actually be able to sleep without having weird dreams or waking up every few hours.

He hasn’t even gotten close enough to touch him since getting here.  Before break, he and Calum were always handsy with each other, personal space a myth with the two of them.  It feels wrong to have seen him and not immediately gone in for a hug.

He flops onto his stomach, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the blankets too much, but sleep isn’t coming easy.  When a knock comes on his door, he’s immediately awake and alert.  He wonders if it was a piece of a dream instead, given that there’s only one other person in the building and late night visits did not seem to be an option on the table, but after a few moments someone knocks again.

The light of the hallway is bright after the dark of his room, making him squint at the silhouette of Calum standing before him, wrapped in a blanket like he always seems to be right now.  His hair is messy, no doubt from his own fitful attempt to sleep, and Michael wants to run his fingers through it and put it back to rights.

“Hi,” Michael says.

“I called maintenance about the heat,” Calum says.  “They said they’re having a bit of issue with it and will send someone out, but with the road conditions it could be a little while.  I think they forgot that there were people here.”

“Oh,” Michael says.  “Okay.”

He stares at Calum again, cataloguing how tightly he’s wrapped up and the way he’s chewing on his lips.  Michael waits for him to say what he really came here to.

“It’s really fucking cold, Michael,” Calum blurts finally, a little desperate.

“I know,” Michael says, not sure how to tell Calum that he’d set the world on fire for him if it would help.

“It’d be warmer if we were together.  Like, scientifically speaking.  If we cuddled, it would warm us up a bit.”

“Well, you are the scientist in this duo.  You would know.”  Calum finally meets his eyes, looking up through his eyelashes a little in a way that’s completely unfair.  He’s already got Michael wrapped around his finger, heart skipping a beat at the simple occasion of having his attention again.

He has it so bad that it’s pathetic.

“Is that all?” Michael asks, trying to scrape together some of his dignity.  Calum has been ghosting him for weeks, and a conversation about the bad heating isn’t exactly what Michael wanted from a real conversation with him.  He’s too tired for small talk and much too cold to be standing here when he could be under the covers.

“You’re shivering,” Calum says.  Michael hadn’t noticed the small tremors, but now that Calum pointed them out he can’t ignore them.

“Come on, Mikey,” Calum says, stepping closer.  Michael wants to lean into him and the warmth he promises.  “I promise it’ll be warmer if we cuddle.”

“Do you want to come in?” he asks.  Calum nods, so he steps aside.

Having Calum in his room again when the last time included one of the best and most overwhelming experiences of Michael’s life is weird, to say the least.  It’s like Michael can see two versions of him: the current Calum, wrapped in a blanket and closed off in every conceivable way, and the Calum from that night, laughing at all of Michael’s jokes and spouting off facts about gravity to explain how they kept getting closer and closer.

“See, everything with mass exerts gravity on everything else, except typically it’s not enough to be noticeable compared to the gravity of the Earth.  Your gravitational field must be really strong today.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, Michael, you idiot.  Stop misinterpreting what I’m saying!”

Calum surveys the room, the safety light reflecting off the snow outside just enough to give him silhouettes to work with.  Michael wonders what he’s remembering.

“How do you want to do this?” Michael asks when the silence has stretched on for too long.  Calum shrugs, so Michael climbs up onto his bed, sliding under the covers and leaving a corner flipped up in invitation.  Calum hesitates, and for a moment Michael thinks he’s going to turn tail and run, but he throws his blanket on top of the covers and joins.  The bed is too small to avoid some awkward elbows and involuntary brushes of clothing, barely big enough for one person, let alone two.  Michael holds his breath while Calum gets somewhat settled, pressed against the wall to give him as much room as possible.

“It’ll be warmer if we’re touching,” Calum whispers, words hitting Michael like a shout with the close proximity and otherwise silence of the room.  If the lights were on, Michael would probably be able to count his eyelashes, but now his face is a combination of different shadows.

“How do you…” Michael trails off.  Calum reaches out first, a cold hand wrapping around his own and pulling him closer.  They end up with Calum on his back and Michael’s head on his shoulder, legs tangled together.  Michael’s sure that Calum can hear how loud his heart is beating, but he can feel Calum’s own beating in a similar pattern so he can’t be too upset about it.  He can hear every inhale and rustle of clothing, can feel the soft cotton of Calum’s shirt against his cheek and smell the faint remains of his soap.

He’s warm.  It’s not the burning heat from their last night together, but it’s almost worse with the gradual way that Michael can feel himself unthaw in his presence, slow enough that he could forget it’s happening only to wake up as an irreparable puddle.

“Okay?” Michael asks, sending flashbacks to the last few times he had asked that question and Calum’s answers: always positive, whether a verbal yes or a nod or a fierce kiss and wandering hands.

“Yeah,” Calum says.  Michael swallows.

Calum starts tracing a design on his back with his finger, barely-felt with Michael still bundled up.  Michael wills himself to stay in the moment rather than slipping into the past or wishing for a different future.

It’s not bad like this.  He gets Calum close at least, receiving that little piece of contact from him that he’s been craving.  If this is the last time they’re like this, he wants to enjoy it if he can.

He shifts, Calum freezing under him for a moment until they both exhale and relax a little more.

Michael closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep.

“Michael?” Calum whispers after a few minutes.  For a moment he considers not answering, sure that anything Calum might think to say in the dark of the night will be something he doesn’t want to hear, but all he’s been asking for the past few weeks is his attention, and it seems vindictive to reject it now.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Michael should ask for clarification on what, exactly, Calum is apologizing about.  He’s opened the door to this conversation, and Michael should take the opportunity to finally walk through and get their wires straightened out, but he can’t bring himself to do any of that, not like this.  Not when Michael is breathing him in and stealing his warmth and there’s absolutely nothing between them to act as a buffer.

In the dark cuddled up together, Michael can keep pretending that Calum isn’t about to crush him.  As long as he doesn’t ask for clarification, it’s like Schrodinger’s heartbreak: Michael can be both loved and lonely at the same time.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he asks.  “We need to talk about it, but I’m tired.  And cold.  Not tonight.”

“Okay,” Calum says.  Michael waits to see if there’s anything else, but Calum just resumes tracing his secret design on Michael’s back.

Michael closes his eyes and hopes they don’t freeze to death in the night, twin skeletons found tangled together by some unsuspecting third party when the thaw comes.  He’s not sure when he falls asleep and begins to dream, but in his mind Calum presses a kiss to his hair and Michael tries not to let such a simple action break him.

-/-

When he wakes up the bed is cold and empty again.  It shouldn’t be surprising, certainly not after last time.  There was less expectation to stay here, but everything is ugly in the cold light, shattering the fragile balance of the night before.  Michael feels a pit in his stomach, but also a hot flare of anger.

Calum is the one who came begging for his company yesterday after completely ignoring him for weeks.  Calum is the one who left without a trace after Michael showed him he loves him the best way he knows how.  Calum is the one who keeps running away from this, but Michael is the one who keeps getting hurt and that’s not fair.

It’s a little warmer in the building now, the heaters likely getting sorted while they were sleeping, but Michael still grabs a blanket.  No one answers Calum’s door and the bathroom seems to be empty.  He heads downstairs to see if he has set himself up in the lounge again and knows he’s on the right track when he starts to hear piano music drifting softly towards him the more he descends the stairs.

Calum is one of the only people who ever uses the grand piano in the lounge.  It’s slightly out of tune, just enough for Michael himself to notice but for Calum to complain about a lot.  Michael has spent a lot of later nights in the lounge listening to him play, whether he was practicing back when he used to be a music major and take lessons or just playing for fun.  Calum curses a lot when he practices, but Michael has also caught him with his eyes closed and a content smile on his face, letting the music take him away.  Watching him like that, Michael sometimes wonders why Calum switched from music to science, but the rarity of the moments makes them all the more special.

He’s playing a piece that he’s been working on for a while.  Michael tries not to disturb him, walking slowly towards the chess set where another piece has been moved in a continuation of the game.  Calum must have pulled the curtains by the windows up, deep drifts of snow piled against them and sunlight reflecting off the white to set the entire room aglow.  In this setting and with this soundtrack, the morning feels less frosty.

The last note hangs suspended in the air and Michael holds his breath until it dissipates.  Calum sighs, breaking his posture to slump down, and turns to face Michael.

“You’ve gotten better at that one,” Michael says.

“Easier to practice when I don’t have to go to the music hall and no one’s here to use the piano.”

Michael studies him, taking in his rumpled appearance.  He doesn’t look like he’s been up that long, still in the same pants he went to bed in and already folding the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands to keep them warm.

The sweatshirt he’s wearing is one of Michael’s.  His heart flip-flops.

“Did you want to talk now?” Calum asks.

“Yeah,” Michael sighs.  Calum nods once.  He scoots over on the piano bench, making room, and Michael gingerly sits next to him.  After a moment’s hesitation, he offers part of his blanket, nearly sighing in relief when Calum accepts it.

“I’m sorry for how I left, and for not replying to any of your messages,” Calum begins.  “That was a jerk move.”

“It was,” Michael says.  “You’re my best friend, Calum.  If I had known that’s how you’d react, I wouldn’t have--”  He stops, because he doesn’t want to say he regrets sleeping with Calum unless he has to.  It would be a lie.  He’d rather have Calum as a friend than nothing, but the will-we-won’t-we would’ve killed him eventually, and the night itself was amazing right up until Calum left.

“I don’t want to jeopardize that,” he says instead.  “You mean a lot to me.”

Calum presses his lips together.

“Why did you leave?” Michael asks.  “I thought we were on the same page.  I mean… you wanted it, right?  You said you did.  I thought you did.  I didn’t--”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Calum interrupts.  “I did want it.  I really wanted it.  Too much, probably.”

“What does that mean?”

Calum sighs, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his sleeves again.  Michael wants to know why he’s so nervous.  He wants to grab his hands and hold him steady the way that Calum does for him when he’s freaking out, but that wouldn’t be welcome right now.

“Michael, I can’t do something casual with you.  You’ve said before that you’re not looking for anything serious, but I can’t be friends with benefits, not with you.  Not when I’m in love with you.  It’d tear me apart.”

“What made you think I wanted something casual?” Michael asks.  “Apparently you couldn’t tell, but that night was kind of a big deal for me.  I’m not exactly known for sleeping around.”

“Michael--”

“I’ve been crushing on you since we met, okay?” Michael says, turning to face him more fully.  “I wasn’t looking for something serious with anyone else because I’ve been hung up on you.  That night was one of the best nights of my life, and then you weren’t there in the morning.  I thought I had fucked up.  I thought I had ruined one of the most important relationships in my life.”

“You didn’t,” Calum says, grabbing his hand.  “I should have talked to you instead of running away.  That’s on me.”

“Yeah it is,” Michael sulks.  “Why didn’t you?  Why’d you just assume what I wanted instead of bothering to ask me?  That hurt, Cal.”

“I know.”  Calum grimaces, then shrugs.  “I don’t know.  I thought I knew what you wanted.  Or didn’t want, I guess.  I didn’t consider that you could like me until you kissed me, and you’ve never shown interest in an actual relationship.  I wasn’t ready for you to reject me.”

“But I wasn’t going to,” Michael says.  “You’re you.  You’re the exception.”

“I didn’t know that, though.  We didn’t exactly sit down for a conversation.  Our mouths were otherwise occupied that night, if I remember correctly.”  Michael opens his mouth to protest, then snaps it shut.

He doesn’t remember exactly what he said in the heat of it, but he remembers biting back I love you, knowing it was too early to be throwing that phrase around, no matter how true it was.  Maybe he ended up hiding the sentiment a bit more than he anticipated.

“You still should’ve talked to me,” he says.

“I know,” Calum replies, squeezing his hand.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll do better with that.”

Michael squeezes his hand back.

“So,” he says, “you like me?”

“Yeah,” Calum says.  “A lot.”

“You got that I like you, too, right?  I said that.  I’ve had it bad for you since we met.”  Calum frowns.

“You took a while to warm up to me.  I thought you were still holding a grudge because I spilled your smoothie.”

“No, you had me tongue-tied,” Michael says.  “I had to figure out how to function around you.  You’re really hot and it made me flustered.”

“Shut up,” Calum says.  He’s blushing, crimson staining his cheeks enough for Michael to see, sending a strong thrill of satisfaction through him.

“I’m serious,” he needles.  “You’re ridiculously attractive, dude.  You’re not going to hear the end of it from me now.  I’ve said it once and now there’s nothing to stop me from saying it five times a day.”

Calum laughs and tucks his face into Michael’s shoulder.  Michael feels his own happiness bubble up inside him, threatening to burst.  He brings Calum’s hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it in an attempt to release some of the pressure.

“Are we boyfriends now?” Calum asks.

“Fuck yeah,” Michael says.  “Unless you don’t want to be, but that’d be lame.”

“I want to be,” Calum says quickly.

“Good,” Michael says.  “Then we are.”

“Good.”

They sit for a while, and this silence feels comfortable again, like their old ones.  Michal could stay suspended in this moment like the final note of Calum’s piano song and feel content with it rather than uncomfortable.  That more than anything lets him know they’ll be okay.

“I’m cold,” Calum says eventually.

“We should move by the fire.”

“We should eat breakfast,” Calum counters.  Michael hums and gives Calum’s neck an exaggerated sniff, making him squirm and giggle again.

“You should shower,” he says.

“Fuck you.  That’s rude.”

“I could join you?” Michael offers.

“These showers are not big enough for two people,” Calum says.  “Nice try, though.”

He stands and kisses Michael on the forehead, tucking the blanket back around him.

“Can I kiss you properly?” Michael asks.  Calum nods and leans down again, the gentle press of his lips both familiar and thrilling, sweeter in the morning light.

“Breakfast, then I’m going to shower alone, then I think we have a chess game to finish.”

“Or we could make out all day while we have the lounge to ourselves.”  Calum considers him, tilting his head and giving a wry smile.

“We can do that if you win the chess match.”

“Deal,” Michael says.  It’s an easy bargain, because Michael is better at chess than Calum is, and with that prize on the line nothing’s going to distract him.

“Breakfast,” Calum repeats, tugging on his hands until he’s standing, too.  Michael leans forward and kisses him again, just because he can now.  Calum beams and leads him to the stairs, Michael tripping over his blanket and Calum’s laugh filling the room.

It could just be the heating kicking in more, but Michael isn’t sure he needs the blanket right now, not when Calum is here warming him from the inside out.