#shy timid friend who gets left behind by the stronger one

[starflared-arrow]

i only watched the charcadet poketoon on a whim cuz i had nothing to do but what the hell dude thats sghrcoded

[suhnandmoon]

soul eater

weapon!park jisung x meister!reader

genre: soul eater au, best friends to lovers, angst w/ happy ending, fantasy, college-ish au (kinda. read info)

wc: 8.5k

info to know: heavily inspired by the anime soul eater. you don’t need to have watched soul eater to get the concept because i try to explain what i can. something i don’t explain but should be known is that weapons will grow stronger when they consume the souls of a kishin egg (a soul that has become corrupt). to soul eater fans: the werewolf in this fic is a kishin egg but for the sake of minimizing confusion with the term ‘egg’ being mistaken as a literal egg, ill often call it just a kishin. last thing! you can read this as a college or highschool au. honestly i wrote this as a combination of them both as in they start the academy when they’re 16 and graduate four years later. it doesn’t matter how you see it.

additional author’s notes: hii guys i’m back with this for you guys. take it as my apology for leaving you guys hanging with my minecraft boyfriend. this is my first full length fic so please be kind T_T there may be issues with grammar because i’m posting this before i chicken out of never sharing this to the world

-

with his shoulders hunched, eyes shifting across the room, and the overall appearance of a sopping wet cat, the last person left was indeed your partner- though you had double checked his name tag a few times, hoping this was a joke.

-

when you start at death meister academy, it's a rare occurrence for a student to find their pair immediately. weapons and meisters alike often spend the first month looking for the most compatible partner. 

compatibility heavily relies on the wavelengths of both individuals. if your souls are able to harmonize on the same frequency, that’s a sign you are suited to pair up. should a meister have a higher wavelength frequency than their weapon, either party could get greatly injured and vice versa.

to make things easier, many students opt to take a compatibility test issued by the school to be automatically paired up with the best fit for them. 

you personally deemed this as the only way fit to receive your weapon. if you were going to graduate as an elite ranked scythe-meister after your four years at the academy, you needed the best possible weapon for you; as determined by the statistics of the test. all meisters are categorized by rank: it scales from one to three stars from with select meisters promoting to elite if they prove themselves fit. all first years start at one star. typically it’s most common to see meisters graduating at a two or three star rank, but it’s not impossible to reach elite by the end of their time at the academy. and that's exactly what you’re going to do.

so imagine your initial shock when you were paired up with poor little park jisung. 

upon receiving the results, everyone grouped off with their partners. your eyes scanned the room for someone wearing the name tag ‘park jisung’ 

no one approached you for a few minutes as you searched so you decided to let the room clear out and see who was left. 

with his shoulders hunched, eyes shifting across the room, and the overall appearance of a sopping wet cat, the last person left was indeed your partner- though you had double checked his name tag a few times, hoping this was a joke. you had to prod the timid little demon weapon into introducing himself, earning only a shy mumble in response. it was hard to believe he was the weapon you were paired up with. the only indication of his status as a scythe would probably be his height- which let him tower above the rest of the class even with his slumped posture. 

you debated on the spot if you should just find a different weapon, not sure if this pairing was entirely the best for your four-year plan. yet, you at least had an ounce of guilt for leaving him behind and faith in the wavelength statistics for this to work out.

after your introductions, you laid out your intentions and planned path for your time at the death meister academy: collect 99 souls and one soul of a witch to successfully ascend your weapon into ‘death weapon status’, reach the elite-meister status for yourself, and finally, graduate top of the class. simple really.

it must be something about the way you said it so confidently that had jisung looking at you with a mixture of admiration and fear, but you received a gulp in response.

you were about to tell him flat out that, if it didn’t seem plausible for him, he’d have to find another meister when he beat you by saying a quiet, “i’ll do it.”

and in a rare moment, a peer of yours didn’t outright laugh in your face for expressing your goals.

you struck out your hand, signaling him to shake yours, beaming at the boy. he softly takes your offer and grasps your hand.

“well then, nice to meet you, partner!”

-

the next few years went exactly as you hoped they would

well, nearly exactly. it did take jisung a good three months to work up the courage to eat his first soul. which in turn, brought three months of stress to you. but he got over that quickly.

your initial first impression of jisung was proven wrong after some time, seeing as how the two of you were almost always able to synchronize your wavelengths in battle.

you both take pride in being the first in your class to perform soul resonance, a fundamental skill for a weapon and a meister to achieve with their partner. many first years struggle with the concept of matching your frequency to someone else so accurately that it resonates. it takes most students the entire unit to perform one successful hit, some even take years. you two nailed it the second it was taught.

after three years at the academy, you and jisung have gotten to know each other better than you know yourselves. its typical for a weapon and meister to share some sort of deep connection, but you’ve always felt like you two exceed that standard in some way.

and here you both are, strewn across your shared couch with your legs across his lap as he sits on the other end, watching whatever's on the channel. you’re sprawled across the couch, revising your notes for the last time before you call it a night and watch with jisung.

“peach ring?” jisung asks as you absentmindedly reach in the bag to hand him one, eyes not once lifting off the pages of handwritten notes for your soul studies class. he takes it from your grasp and tosses it in his mouth, a hum of gratitude following the action.

jisung, over the years, has come out of his shell significantly from that first day you met him. you aren’t aware of it, but he owes a lot of it to you- from your contagious drive for success to your ability to believe in him wholeheartedly. he’s honestly still grateful you hadn’t dropped him the day you met. he still shudders at the memory of the day he ate his first soul, you comforting his hunched over form on the ground as he cried for an hour or two. that’s something that you both are taking to the grave with you.

he looks over to you, your brows furrowed as you mouth the words on your page in an effort to memorize the material, he finds your concentration to be quite cute.

“you almost done? its getting late. plus- its just soul studies,” jisung shrugs with a lazy smile, “last time i checked, we still have the highest resonance success rate. i think we know souls pretty well.”

you scoff at his answer, finally tearing your eyes away from the stack of papers and onto him- which was really his goal from the beginning.

“you and i know damn well that soul studies isn’t reliant on who can match their partner’s frequencies the best. its about the essence of souls.” you lecture lightheartedly and he takes the opportunity to reach over and pull the notes out of your grasp. 

“well if you know so much about it, it wouldn't kill you to take a break,” he places your notes on the coffee table as you weigh the pros and cons. its getting late, so you know if you take a break, you wouldn’t return to your studying but you also didn’t have the energy to argue with jisung either. taking the selfish route, you give in and reposition yourself so you’re sitting side by side with him.

an hour passes and the both of you knock out on the couch. you’re the first to drift off and jisung just doesn’t have the heart to wake you up by moving you off his shoulder so he decides he can just close his eyes for a few minutes…

well! 

it wasn’t a few minutes

more like a few minutes over the time you were both supposed to leave the house for class the next morning.

an unfamiliar feeling wakes you up that morning, half of your body on top of jisung and his arm lazily wrapped around your waist. before you can even process the position, you’re already jumping off the couch and frantically getting ready. you were supposed to leave the dorm five minutes ago

“-jisung! we’re so late! god. oh my god!” your fading voice as you run to the bathroom is the first thing your roommate hears when he wakes up. he groggily rises, rubbing at his eyes as he watches you run around your shared living space yelling in a frenzy. he would never tell you but he finds the ordeal to be endearing. he allows himself watch you for just half a second before he gets up to brush his teeth to avoid being on the receiving end of your curses.

you get ready in record time, cutting down your usual thirty minutes to a whole 4:37; albeit several steps were skipped in the process. as you frantically tie your shoelaces, jisung strolls next to you with two granola bars in hand. his morning routine is always less involved than yours so its no surprised he took like two seconds to get ready.

he can’t even hand the bar to you as you’re already dragging him out by his wrist.

by some miracle, you manage to make it to your soul studies class one minute before it began. you rush to your seat in the lecture hall and jisung follows behind, clearly not as worried about missing the test as you are.

you miss the raised eyebrow and shit eating grin that chenle sends jisung, causing the tips of his ears to turn pink. 

both of you walking in together late, jisung’s hair sticking up from sleeping on the couch weird, and the lack of sleep evident on your faces may not mean anything separately, but jisung was well aware of the implication chenle’s thinking of. he’s sure as hell lucky that you’re too focused on the exam to notice.

the next thirty minutes breeze by. you finish up your test half an hour in so, technically, you’re free to turn it in and leave for your next class but you always wait for jisung so you can exit together. it takes another ten minutes of doodling on your exam and picking at your eraser for him to wrap it up.

the two of you walk to the front of the lecture hall, dropping the tests off at your professor’s desk and walking out the door. zhong chenle is quick to follow you both out. you assume he was also waiting for jisung to finish his test, presumably to walk out with you both as well.

“hey you two~ had fun last night?” he teases you abruptly as he jogs to catch up to your pace. the three of you walk down the corridor as his voice echos down the halls.

“fun? studying for that test? certainly not-” you respond with your brows furrowed, not catching chenle’s implication as the classroom disappears in the distance.

zhong chenle, as much as he is a little shit, is jisung’s best friend and gun-meister to his own weapon. he also happens to be he son of lord death, the reaper who founded the school and the one in charge of all of meister/weapon affairs. he acts as a headmaster of sorts. you interact with him frequently, as you and jisung are always getting assigned missions issued by the reaper himself.

jisung sputters a cough in an awkward attempt to seem nonchalant about this situation, “don’t be an idiot, chenle. we were studying for the test last night and fell asleep on the couch.” he slaps the back of his friend’s head and you finally catch on.

you suddenly remember waking up in jisung’s arms and how it felt so… right. is it really so natural of a conclusion to think you two are sleeping together? that was seriously chenle’s first assumption? the very thought plagues your mind

you need to purge it immediately, fearing the imbalance of your emotions for jisung will fluctuate your wavelength levels. 

you brush off chenle’s allegation and he scurries away to his next class. you wrap your arms around yourself subconsciously as you both continue to your next class, purposely ignoring the previous conversation floating in your minds.

-

it’s around the evening when you and jisung get called in to ‘the death room���. really, its just lord death’s domain where he observes the outside world from his mirrors. 

you approach the man, who’s appearance as the ‘grim reaper’ takes much more of a whimsical approach rather than intimidating. he’s larger than life in both size and personality and his mask toes the line of a cartoonish feel. his appearance contrasts the vast liminal space he resides in. it's an expansive graveyard with a circular platform in the center where his full body mirrors reside. this is how you all exit in and out of the space. though the space itself is unsettling, you always find interacting with him to be fairly easy. maybe your friendship with his son benefits that but you also like to believe your own skill is a testament of how you earned his respect. 

“yn and jisung! perfect timing. i have a bit of difficult mission for you two~” 

lord death’s sing-songy voice is the first thing you hear as you step through the mirror and into his domain. your hand rests on jisungs arm to stabilize yourself before you both bow to the reaper.

“stress levels have gone up around the south outskirts of the city. we aren’t sure of the threat level- an estimate would be rank three kishin egg but don’t get too comfortable,” lord death explains the mission and you’re concealing the grin that threatens to spill from your mouth, “this should be the perfect assignment for the two of you. yn, i trust you know your promotion to elite is being considered. don’t disappoint me.”

you return his sentiment with a firm nod and pat to jisung’s back. he subconsciously straightens his posture when you reply, “no need to worry, lord death. we’ll get this done in no time!”

“thank you both, see you back soon!”

and with that, the reaper gestures towards the large mirror you entered from. this time, it reflects your next destination. you can see civilians running away from the scene, personal belongings strewn across the ground, and what looks like to be a werewolf kishin. its long legs reach the floor on all fours and its about double the size of the houses around it. you watch as its hollow, white eyes survey the upcoming area for its next victim with a notable hunch in its back. 

so this is your target, you observe. looks easy enough

jisung’s hand on your shoulder stops you from charging in without him. you pause for a moment to make sure he’s as ready as you are and once you get that confirmation, you’re hopping through the mirror without hesitation.

-

the growl of the beast before you is terrifying enough to send chills through anyone’s spine. except the fast heartbeat in your chest isn’t derived from anxiety, rather excitement instead. you know lord death is observing your every move in this mission specifically so this is your chance to put on a show; to prove that you’re able to handle elite ranked missions.

before the kishin notices you, jisung snakes an arm around your waist, getting ready to transform.. 

suddenly, you get the worst timed flashback of your life. visions of this morning flash across in your brain and then to chenle’s accusation. you grip the transformed scythe of a partner in your hands tightly to push the unwelcome intrusions out of your mind.

goddammit. you couldn’t be losing focus now.

“everything alright?” you hear jisung’s voice echo out of the scythe as well as a roar in the distance. you know he can feel your grip on the weapon’s handle but you’ve already been noticed by the kishin to respond.

you swing your scythe away from your body, so the blade scrapes the dirt underneath you. you run toward the angry beast, not even bothering to reply to jisung. the only thing you should be thinking about is reaching the beast.

you take your first swing at the kishin, which it narrowly avoids. you only manage to shave off the ends of its dark fur. immediately after, its paw swipes at your midsection. you manage to jump up and use the arm under you as a platform to take another leap onto its back. you’re almost moving on autopilot, you’ve battled creatures like this countless times already- yet the thought plaguing your entire being creeps in the back of your mind. it bothers you but there’s nothing you can do about it at this moment. you curse yourself for being so immature for thinking about a stupid crush in the middle of a fight.

you position yourself so that you’re straddling the werewolf while it thrashes around in an attempt to throw you off its back.

“jisung!” you call out to your partner, scythe in the air and ready to plunge into the neck of the monster, “soul resonance!”

your blade cuts deeply into the side of the kishin’s neck, but nothing happens. no blinding light, no dissipation of the beast below you, and certainly no soul resonance performed.

the shock of you not being able to complete this move for the first time in your career as a duo allows the werewolf to send you flying off its back. you’re thrown off into the dirt, jisung having transformed mid-throw to soften the fall. he has you in an embrace to minimize your impact since you can’t even react

you can only sit there, shell shocked.

there has never been a time where the two of you have failed to perform soul resonance. and now, when you need it the most- when lord death is watching your every move closely for your promotion, you stupidly fail the easiest skill you could’ve showcased.

it takes one excruciatingly long minute to realize jisung has been shaking your shoulders yelling for you to snap out of it.

“yn!! yn!! are you okay??” the pure amount of concern in his eyes is enough to get you to push yourself off your feet. you ignore the searing pain in your right arm and grab jisung with your left, wordlessly. he gets the memo and gets back into form. you’re gonna have to do this the hard way.

it takes longer than you would’ve liked, but you eventually manage to find an opening to the kishin’s heart and strike it down, revealing its glowing red soul as the body dissipates. jisung shifts back to his normal form so he can grab the egg-shaped soul and swallow it down.

he’s fast with his actions so he can run back to you to check on you. you start walking the opposite direction, not being able to stomach your terrible performance. you can’t even look at him.

“yn! are you okay? please say something.” he pleads, grabbing your forearms so you’re forced to face him. you wince and retract your right arm but you don’t make an effort to turn away again. you fight the tears forming in your eyes and avoid his prying gaze, knowing that any attempt you would make to speak would croak out pathetically.

“i- i’m sorry. i’m so sorry” those are the only words you can say before jisung is pulling you into an embrace.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” he hushes your sobs, stroking the back of your head. there's a strange nostalgia about this scene. it's fairly reminiscent of the year you and jisung first met, except your positions have swapped. last time it was you comforting a crying jisung for being too ashamed over his fear of soul consumption. 

you hate how small you feel in this moment, but there's one last sliver of selfishness in you that lets you enjoy the feeling of his arms around you.

“this wasn’t your fault. don’t blame yourself,” he reminds you, though you don’t believe his words. at the end of the day, you couldn’t perform soul resonance because your wavelengths didn’t align. you had been distracted during that fight. your feelings for jisung are throwing off your wavelength levels. 

“thank you, jisung”

he hears your tone and knows you well enough to know you don’t believe him. he doesn’t comment on it but it makes him sad to hear you like this. he doesn’t voice his thoughts.

“are you ready to go back to lord death?” he asks tentatively and the thought makes you completely nauseous. you’re sure you absolutely ruined your reputation in front of him but you also remind yourself that he’s probably watching you wallow in your own pity right now through his ornate mirrors.

you suck it up and give your partner the okay to keep going. he walks toward a large storefront window in the damaged city, cups his hands over the glass while letting out an exhale to fog up the surface, and writes down the numerical code engrained in all of your minds: 42-42-564. if you ever wanted to knock on death’s door. the quickest way to contact lord death himself.

the glass window soon turns into the scene of lord death’s space. you see him waiting on the other side and your stomach twists in anxiety. the both of you step through the storefront display and end up back in the graveyard.

-

you’re about to bow your head and profusely apologize but the reaper speaks up first, breaking the silence.

“yn,” his tone is sincere, yet you can’t quite place how he truly feels, “don’t apologize to me. i don’t want to hear it.” 

you thought your heart was already at your feet, but it somehow plummeted six feet under. jisung wants to stand by your side but ultimately takes a few steps back to give this conversation some space 

“is there something going on in your personal life that i should consider?”

your mouth goes dry and you attempt to respond but you can only muster up the strength to shake your head. lord death strides up to you and in that moment you think everything you ever worked for is going to crumble in front of you.

“hey, i’m not about to punish you. you’re one of the academy’s most dedicated meisters, i obviously know that whatever happened with your soul resonance was the first time that happened in all your years here, which is impressive in itself. and aside from that, you wrapped up the fight without resonating very professionally. don’t beat yourself up about this battle.”

this is too much. you’re starting to feel a little lightheaded at the rollercoaster of emotions you’re feeling. one moment you are terrified out of your mind that you let lord death down.. the next, he’s.. praising you?

“but- the promotion!” you sputter out.

“you’re exceptionally hard on yourself, yn. and i think it benefits your work ethic greatly at times, but it also pulls you down. you need to take care of yourself. i’ll look the other way when it comes to this assignment if you take a week break. a good meister knows how to balance every aspect of their lives. figure out what is causing both of your wavelengths to not resonate, i’ll work things out with your professors.”

your eyes widen at the compromise and you thank lord death for his empathy.

“thank you, lord death. i promise i won’t let you down.”

-

the walk back to your shared dorm is mostly quiet. you had just wrapped up your conversation with lord death and stopped at the infirmary for your arm. it had dislocated during the battle but luckily the healing process was supernaturally sped up thanks to the nurses working at the academy. 

there's an unspoken tension between you and jisung with both of you knowing you weren’t on the same page in terms of wavelength. this is something that has never been an issue for the two of you. you wouldn't blame him if he felt like he was walking next to an unfamiliar person. 

jisung, on the other hand, is stuck wondering what happened. there was something so clearly bothering you, so why couldn’t you tell him? his mind is desperately grasping for solutions to help pull you out of this but he’s not even sure if you’ll allow him.

if anyone could see the both of you walking together, you’re sure they’d be looking two large, grey clouds above your heads, both equipped with a torrent of pouring rain.

the jingle of your keys breaks the silence between you as you unlock the front door. in the midst of kicking off your shoes, jisung urges you to stay put. you watch him shuffle off into the kitchen before returning with a tub of ice cream and two spoons. there's a shy smile on his face, hoping that this will at least improve your mood ever so slightly. theres a twist in your heart to see him looking out for you like this but you also feel a sense of guilt for letting your feelings get in the way of his own accomplishments as a weapon. 

“thank you jisung” you take the carton from him with a small smile and move over to the couch. he sits opposite of your injured arm, though its pretty much healed up at this point. he’s still mindful. the regeneration magic used on it cut down your recovery time greatly. it only really feels sore now but jisung doesn’t take any chances.

you let yourself cozy up into his side as he scrolls for something to watch. the scene is similar from the night before. you weren’t exactly sure when you started blurring the lines beyond what would be considered normal for a ‘friendship’ but none of you have ever bothered to correct this behavior.

when he finally finds something to watch, jisung leans back and starts taking spoonfuls out of the tub of ice cream situated on your lap. you look up at the television lights illuminating his features, taking a mental image of the scene so you don’t get caught staring. its a scene you’ve probably seen thousands of times, yet the more you see him like this, the more flustered it makes you.

god. you’re fucking up your wavelength by the minute, you’re absolutely sure of it.

-

you’ve never liked the sight of the training grounds. it reminds you of the excruciating hours you’ve spent over the past few years practicing and training to get to the point where lord death deemed you strong enough to take on assignments. you typically opt for taking on lower ranked missions if you and jisung ever need to get some practice in. at least there, the targets actually fight back.

patience was never a virtue for you- clearly.

“we were asked to spend everyday together to work out our connection” jisung recites the instructions given to you guys by lord death after he granted you a week long break.

“oh, what a difficult task..” you retort sarcastically. you don’t think there's been a day where you haven’t spent a single moment without him, “hey, do you think if we can fix our connection this weekend, we can go back to class this week?”

jisung deadpans, “lord death gave us a ‘get out of jail free card’ with a whole week off of class and you want to throw that away?”

“come onn, we’re missing so much! when we get back, we’re not gonna know anything thats going on in any of our classes!” 

“i already don’t know whats going on and you’ve probably studied up until the next month’s worth of academic content. we’ll be fine,” he states factually. he honestly can’t be surprised that you’re already itching to get back to work, “plus, this break is for you to get a better grasp of work-life balance. you need this week off.” he pleads with you to concede. most of his intent is for you to take it easy on yourself, but the week off from class definitely was a perk.

you kick the dirt of the training grounds and mutter an, “i guess, i guess”

jisung grabs your waist and the transformation happens as always. you stand there holding your scythe perpendicular to your body behind you with the blade’s tip facing the ground. your left arm is extended out to the side as it holds the base while your right rests on your hip.

you toss him up into the air, the weapon twirling in circles before you grab him and hit the wooden training dummy. you give him a few experimental swings before you close your eyes and focus on what you two are really here for.

you got this.

“soul resonance!” you say, voice lacking your usual confidence. and as expected, nothing happens. you squeeze the handle in frustration as if swinging harder would magically fix your problems.

“don’t think about it too much. relax. its just me and you” you hear his voice call out.

its just me and you. your heart patters with anxiety. that’s probably the one thing you didn’t need to hear. me and you

how are you failing miserably at this when its always been you two?

you try again. and again. you’re making repeated attempts, only getting close to resonating once. that one managed to make a larger dent in the training dummy, but it was absolutely nothing you were used to.

you lost count at the embarrassing amount of failed attempts you’ve gone through. around an hour and a half passes. 

most of your hits end up just being hacks into the dummy to release your frustration. you almost go in for another hit when jisung transforms back. he’s sweating and he grabs for your wrist to keep you from going further.”

“that’s enough. let’s take a break for now.” 

and in your frustration, you scoff to yourself. a break, huh? that’s what you’re on right now. moved to a hiatus until you can get your shit together. you don’t voice your annoyance when you glance over at your worn out partner. he wipes the back of his hand against his forehead, displacing the sweat sticking to his bangs. guilt creeps up on you for pushing him through this with you and you imagine you probably look in worse shape than he does.

“alright.. lunch?” you breath out and he gives you a lopsided smile.

“sounds perfect” he tosses your water bottle to you as you make your way off the field. your feet don’t feel as heavy anymore as you two walk away.

-

“there’s no way he actually did that!” you cover your mouth to stifle your laughter.

the two of you are seated inside a nearby cafe across campus. the sun shines through the window you’re seated by but the a/c is doing wonders after your miserable training session. you take slow sips at your iced latte as jisung tells his story.

“no- because i heard it was so bad. the whole class went silent after,” jisung recounts what chenle shared to him about your friend mark. apparently, the alumni was invited back to help first years with their soul resonance unit and ended up embarrassing himself with some speech he wrote the night before. safe to say, he probably isn’t going to show his face ever again after his weapon had to drag him out of the classroom out of pure humiliation. 

you continue laughing, missing the way jisung relishes in your joy. he tries to cover his smile by taking a bite of the pastry he bought while averting his eyes but jisung has never been known to be discreet.

“our training today might’ve been rough, but at least we aren’t first years running off of mark’s advice” your giggle even though referencing the prior event provides a momentary reality check.

jisung notices the shift and dares to ask about it. afterall, you haven’t directly discussed what's causing this disruption. 

he’s been avoiding it, patiently waiting for you to confide in him. but as hours go on, he’s unsure it will ever be brought up.

“do you.. want to talk about it?” hesitance is laced in his tone. you keep the smile on your face when you reply.

“i- well,” you don’t feel ready to confront him with what’s been haunting you. you could never outright say ‘hey! i think our wavelengths don’t match because i’m stuck with this deep, festering crush on you and you don’t at all!’ 

so you lie

“i really don’t know whats going on.. maybe its just extra stress? before we went into that fight i was distracted over the fact lord death was watching..”

you curse your weak attempt at an excuse the second it comes out of your mouth, praying that jisung doesn’t point out that you were jumping into the fight headfirst out of excitement. and if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. he only nods sympathetically and doesn’t prod further.

“if you think its stress related.. how about we step off the battlefield for the week. even being on the training ground for a few hours was too much for us,” he references your disdain for the location, “lets take this break to focus on, well.. you know, each other. and return by the end of the week to see if anything worked.”

as he says that outloud, he’s painfully aware of how bad it sounds. he makes eye contact with an older woman who shoots him a look of pity. yeah, it really did look like you two were airing out your relationship issues to the whole cafe. his ears turn pink.

you, however, only nod thoughtfully, too caught up in your thoughts to catch the expressions of any eavesdroppers. you want to agree with jisung’s proposition but you’re backed up into a corner. if anything, spending more time with jisung would only do you worse. 

all you want to do is camp out in your room for the next week and do your best to forget that your dumb crush is ruining your career. yet on the other hand, if you told jisung all of this, that would definitely make things a lot worse.

is it too late to start searching for a new partner? one that doesn’t through off the entire balance of your soul just from one waist grab.

no. you could never do that. you need to make sure that your souls can resonate by the end of the week, starting with his suggestion.

“alright, lets try it.” your usual self-assured tone makes an appearance with that statement and it soothes jisung to hear.

-

the week passes rather quickly. the two of you followed out with jisung’s proposal, spending every day together doing various things, desperately trying to get yourself back on the same page: picnics, more cafe visits, a trip out of the city, you name it. yet each planned event seems to feel more and more like dates. sure, you two already have spent everyday together for the past few years, but the intentionality of picking places to spend time with one another had your heart thinking for itself.

you really tried to ignore what it looked like, but on friday night when the two of you decided to try a new spot and eat dinner at chenle’s favorite restaurant, you really couldn’t take it anymore. 

dressed in nicer attire, you stole glances at jisung while he busied himself with browsing the menu. your heart beats faster when he tugs at the collar of his white dress shirt subconsciously.

well.. maybe you’re gonna need an indefinite hiatus if he keeps this up.

you instinctively reach for your glass of water and drink a little too much to push down those thoughts. 

“you alright?” he voices his concerns, hoping that since you’re nearing the end of the week, you would be open for a real conversation.

“yeah! yeah- don’t worry about me.” you try to say as naturally as possible. he nods just like how he has been doing for the entire week. there's a dull ache in his chest knowing that you still don’t feel comfortable enough to open up to him.

its odd, he thinks. he’s so used to being the anxious thinker always relying on your drive and spirit to encourage himself. it upsets him to see you so thrown off. he’ll admit, he’s not doing much better. it keeps him up at night worrying whats got you so worked up and why you don’t trust him to completely share your burdens. 

jisung has the remaining energy to muster up the self control to stop thinking about this. he has to be the strong one for you, just like how you’ve been for him in the years that you’ve known him. seeing you stuck like this hasn’t happened before. he chooses his actions thoughtfully. 

“jaemin was telling me how chenle finally got busted for showing up late to his literacy arts class.” he tries to take your mind off of the current situation by thinking of the first thing he could think of.

“the one he always shows up half an hour late to? its about time,” you snort. chenle, due to the identity of his father, has the habit of running on his own schedule. he’s been lucky so far that every professor he’s had has been too scared to report him to his own father, but its about time someone said something about his habit.

“seriously! we’re already halfway through the semester, it took long enough.” he sighs, thinking about his friend’s reckless behavior. the story takes your mind off of things which jisung is just grateful to see a smiling expression on you.

the two of you chat for the rest of the dinner and you start to feel a little more at ease.

-

its the next morning when the both of you are back on the empty training grounds. its officially been one week since you were last here. you feel the pit of anxiety in your stomach but you try to drown it out with affirmations of confidence. you’re hoping the act at least convinces yourself that you can do this.

you notice the faint dark circles underneath jisung’s eyes but he tries to tell you its just because you had to wake up early for this.

“i’m ready. i trust you, yn. lets do this.” jisung tells you sincerely and you think that might’ve been the first time you felt hope about actually succeeding this week.

you take both of his hands in his and give them a squeeze, “we got this.” 

you continue repeating that phrase under your breath as he shifts into the familiar weapon. the hands you were once holding are now a cold bar of metal, signaling you to begin.

you twirl your scythe around your body, trying to mimic the motions you know so well, the ones you’ve gone through a hundred times. you can do it again. 

as you approach the wooden dummy, you actually feel the hope building up. as you swing the scythe in a circular motion, you feel the essence of jisung’s soul nearby. you close your eyes and approach the target.

“soul resonance!” you strike. 

a light emits from the training dummy, its fainter than what its supposed to look like and you didn’t land a clean blow.

and even though it was a partial success, you can’t help but feel that rush of disappointment return. 

jisung is quick to return back to form and you turn your back to face away from him and the in-tact training dummy serving as a reminder for your failure. 

you’re so frustrated. though you’ve made slight progress, it really does feel like your back at square one.

you start walking away. you don’t even know where you’re going but you feel everything in your body driving you off this stupid field. 

“yn.” jisung’s voice calls out to you, presumably to get you to try again. you couldn’t even get yourself to want to go through another attempt. its only going to make you more upset when it doesn’t work out.

“what is it?” you snap back, sounding more sharp than you intended. the second you say it you immediately regret it. jisung doesn’t deserve to face the brunt of your frustrations.

“..do you not trust me?” his voice comes out weaker this time, self-doubt clear in his words. he looks exhausted. you turn around to face your partner. it feels as if an eternity passes as you two stare into each other’s eyes, trying to figure out what the other is thinking.

“in what world would i ever not trust you?” you ask, pained and baffled as to why he even has that thought in his mind.

“then tell me whats wrong,” he pleads, “you don’t think i notice? this whole week you’ve been dancing around telling me the actual issue. i know somethings bothering you, yn. i know you. i only wish you would share it with me. we’re supposed to be.. equals.” the last word he spoke faltered. he said it as if he didn’t quite believe it

“jisung-” your eyes widen at his confession. there was never a day where you would consider yourself anything other than his equal, his partner. guilt weighs in your heart that you hadn’t noticed his desire to hear what’s been causing your turmoil, “its nothing like that, trust me.” you try to defend yourself, desperately trying to grasp at a viable explanation.

“then tell me, yn. tell me what it is.” he takes a few steps closer to you and you feel your hands go numb.

“i like you.” you blurt out. you see his frustrated expression morph into one of surprise. his eyes flicker between yours for further explanation. he stays silent while you continue, “i’m sorry. i tried to ignore it, i really did. our wavelength imbalance- i know its my fault. the whole thing is so dumb but i like you so much that its throwing off our entire balance.”

jisung hesitantly reaches out to you to say something but you beat him to it and dart off the field. you run, just like you’ve been running away from the issue this entire week.

you’re aware you don’t have anywhere to go. you live with him after all, but it doesn’t stop the overwhelming desire to lock yourself up for an indefinite amount of time. you’ve never felt this pathetic before.

-

you sit in your room with the door locked and lights off. after this exhausting week, you just need to think. with no point of reference of what time it currently is, your solitude feels like an eternity.

you recall hearing the front door open and close a while ago. you even heard jisung’s light footsteps in front of your own door and delicate knock, “i’m home.. by the way.” his voice is muffled. you can’t seem to place how he’s feeling through his words. you remain dead silent in response, trying to pass it off as being asleep. he lingers at the door a few seconds longer before retreating back to his room.

it was slightly after that instance when you actually fell asleep, deciding that you could probably use the extra rest after what had just occurred. 

one hour turns into four when you wake up around noon, not expecting to have crashed out for that long. catching up on the much needed sleep, you don’t feel as convoluted as before. you still weren’t ready to step outside the haven that your room provided, still feeling sick over the reality of having to stand face to face with jisung. you’ll never be able to perform soul resonance with him because, fundamentally, your entire relationship is ruined. where are you going to find another weapon? let alone one that worked so perfectly with you. god. it was perfect. you grip your pillow in frustration and flip it, covering your head. you almost want to scream into it, but you're hyper aware of jisung’s presence in this dorm.

you can even hear him shuffle around in the kitchen, telling you that it is indeed lunch time. the thought of running into jisung to grab something in the pantry kills your appetite a little. flopping over, you stare at the ceiling and recount all the memories that led up to this point.

-

the amount of time passed is unknown to you. if you were to guess, you would say it's already dinner time but maybe that’s the hunger talking from your missed lunch. 

you’ve rotted the whole day away in your bed and you’re ready to spend the next year there if you have to.

those thoughts of recluse are interrupted by what you assume to be jisung coming home again. you thought you heard him leave a bit ago, but you were set on distracting yourself from analyzing his every footstep around the house. however, your stomach growls and an instance of regret kicks in when you realize you should’ve snuck out to the kitchen when he wasn’t occupying the same living space as you. you groan at the missed opportunity. 

a few raps at your door echo into the room. you curse yourself for making any noise because there’s no way you could play asleep again. you’re about to open your mouth to ask him to go away but jisung is faster in speaking up.

“i’m not leaving this time. i’m coming in.” he warns you somewhat sternly before opening up the door separating him and your personal refuge. the crinkle of plastic bags follows him in the room. he's carrying take out. once the scent of fast food hits the air, your stomach betrays you and the initial growl from a few minutes grows louder. he deposits the bags at your desk before moving closer to where you’re seated at the edge of your bed. he kneels on the floor and places a hand on your knee.

“we need to talk. i wanted you to be ready on your own time but, i’m sorry, i have to speed up this process.” he chuckles at that last part. you both know you were stubborn enough to avoid him for the rest of your lives if you had to. he rises from his position on the floor to sit on the edge of your bed.

his hand moves from your leg to your hand and he pulls it toward him. his eyes urge you to remain in contact with him.

“how have you not noticed this whole time?” he asks you softly, glancing at your interlocked hands. your heart beats out of your chest when he continues, “the day that test paired us up, i saw it in your eyes that you wanted a different partner,” he fondly laughs at the memory and squeezes your hand, “but when you laid out your dreams to me, something told me that i needed to make myself capable of helping you achieve your every wish.”

he moves your hand to his chest, placing it atop his heart. “i am the weapon i am today only because of you. because i’ve always admired your drive and dedication to do what you love. you’ve pushed me to be the best version of myself and grow more comfortable in my identity as a scythe. i’ve always loved that about you,” his grip on your hand loosens and you take the liberty to trace it upward to his cheek, resting it there as you stare into his eyes, “i’ve always loved you.”

and though you’ve managed to get through the majority of the day without shedding any tears, you feel your cheeks getting wet before you even realize. jisung is quick to delicately wipe them away, his large hands softly rubbing your face. you melt into his touch and he leaves his hands cupping your cheeks. you don’t know how long you two spend in that position before your faces eventually end up inches away from each other.

“can i?” he looks at you with shining eyes that cause your heart to soften the second he asks.

“of course” you breathe out, eyes fluttering closed. he waits a second after receiving confirmation before dipping in to kiss you. his hold on you is gentle, every touch channels the greatest amount of care. you lean closer to him, resting your hand against his thigh as you continue the kiss further. as you two share this moment, you feel as if your soul is fusing with his.

jisung moves one of his hands to your waist as you briefly break apart to catch your breath.

“i’m sorry about this. i really hope you know why i wasn’t telling you the truth this whole week-” you feel the need to apologize but he cuts you off with a kiss.

“i know, i trust you” he embraces you, smiling in your neck.

“and i’ll always trust you,” you both lean back into the bed and lay there for who knows how long. the takeout on your desk sits forgotten, but neither of you care about that at all- not when your souls are unified, having found their home in each other.

-

-

-

“soul resonance!” you slash into the training dummy. you returned to the field the next day with jisung, never having felt more confident. within your first attempt of the day, you are knocked back by a blinding white light- one brighter than ever before. it takes ten seconds for the light to fade and you and jisung are met with the sight of your demolished training victim as well as a massive gash in the field behind it.

“holy shit.” jisung morphs back, staring in awe at the damage you caused to the training grounds. he looks at the huge dirt cavern you sliced out of the grass and back to you, “holy shit!”

you turn to him excitedly and jump into his arms, spinning around as you two celebrate the long week of trying to repairing your broken connection. he finally sets you down, still keeping you in his embrace. his head lifts up to look at you.

“do you think we’re gonna get in trouble for,, this?” he references the mess and you step back to further examine just what you caused.

“who cares. we’ll never be back here.”

-

bonus scene: 

“today we have an alumni here to speak to the class about advanced soul resonance. mr. mark lee, please give these students a word of advice.” the professor steps down and a young man walks to the front of the lecture hall. 

“alright guys, uh, listen up,” the fairly awkward boy clears his throat in front of all the students, “no matter what they say, no matter what they do. we gon’ resonate. resonate!” 

the class goes silent.

[bambooswordwielder]

Continuing on with my Yunmeng Trio Role Swap Au idea, I'll just write down the major changes to each character. This post will be about our beloved hero-complex Shixiong!

(1) Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian in this AU takes over Jiang Yanli's role as the family mediator, often serving as the middle ground for every family argument while also trying to make sure the family stays together. He remains quiet and reserved, only showing in extremely private moments to his trusted few his true burning personality.

In Canon MDZS! Wei Wuxian after being rescued from the streets is at first timid and shy, before graining confidence in himself due to Jiang Yanli's influence.

However, in this Swap AU! due to Jiang Yanli's stronger core, Madam Yu pours more attention and pressure onto her, causing Jiang Yanli to not have as much time to care for him, and also being more tired herself.

Wei Wuxian seeing Jiang Yanli's state , realises that Madam Yu increases the Jiang Sibling's training whenever he misbehaves or worsens her anger, so in order to taken some burden off of Jiang Yanli Wei Wuxian becomes quiet and more reserved, hiding away his true personality as he slowly resigns himself himself acting as a "Calm and respectful servant's son that obeys the noble family that took him in" despite protests from Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli who try to stop him.

Of course, he shows his true personality when he's alone with the Jiang Siblings, which leads to many who are not disciples at YunmengJiang to wrongly assume that Wei Wuxian is a mature and calm head disciple.

After Jiang Yanli gets an engagement with Jin Zixuan (That Jiang Cheng loudly detests with Wei Wuxian silently agreeing with him), Jiang Fengmian decides to try and broker a closer relationship with the GusuLan.

Since the Lan don't do Arranged Marriages in respect to their Sect's origin, they decide to try and get Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian to become friends (after Jiang Cheng loudly protested he would never be friends with someone so boring, at least Wei Wuxian is secretly funny behind his quiet facade!)

Even if this arrangement caused Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian to argue yet again for nights ("What? Is my son so much of an embarrassment you have to use that brat as a replacement!?" "San-niang, that's not what's happening–" "THEN WHAT IS HAPPENING!?"), eventually a meet up between the two was set up.

When the two meet, it's immediately clear that the two's (outward) personalities were near identical, which is the only reason Lan Qiren even allows the two boys to hang out alone while he and Jiang Fengmian discuss other import details.

After the two were left alone to hang out, Wei Wuxian felt only awkwardness as while he usually is quiet, usually Jiang Cheng or the other disciples were the ones talking and bantering, with Wei Wuxian being able to add in his perspective here and there (and be allowed to be himself because he was in the safety of people he trusted)

Lan Wangji was not like that.

Unlike Wei Wuxian who forced himself to stop fiddling with his sleeves and resist the urge to kick the stones that litter the paths of the paths, Lan Wangji merely looked off in the distance, every once in a while stopping to glare at nearby misbehaving disciples who immediately apologised and ran in fear of him.

Wei Wuxian wonders if this is some sort of secret test from the Lans. Perhaps he has to survive the battle of acting like a statue and not to saying a single word.

After an eternity (only 5 minutes) Wei Wuxian sighed loudly, indicating his acceptance of his loss to the quiet Jade boy beside him whose only indication he noticed Wei Wuxian's existence was the short nod when they introduced to each other by their respective elders.

"So Uh... Nice weather?"

"Mhm."

"My name's Wei Ying, courtesy name Wei Wuxian." Wei Wuxian curses at himself thinking that Jiang Fengmian already introduced him earlier.

"Mhm."

"So... do you have a favourite colour?"

"No."

Despite attempts at various topics, but Lan Wangji just seemed to get more and more silent.

Wei Wuxian internally is screaming.

'What the– DID I ACCIDENTALLY OFFEND HIM? I JUST BREATHED!? DAMN IT DID I JUST RUIN UNCLE JIANG'S ATTEMPTS AT A FRIENDSHIP WITH THE LANS!?'

Wei Wuxian eventually gives up as Jiang Fengmian and Lan Qiren finally return, the two engrossed in what appears to be a deep conversation about tea of all things.

As Wei Wuxian bows and he and Jiang Fengmian prepare to make their leave, Wei Wuxian can't help but take another glance at the other boy.

As he stares back, he is only met with a bitter, ice cold gaze.

...

When Wei Wuxian returns back to Lotus Pier, he immediately rants about his entire visit to Jiang Yanli, who is more overprotective of Wei Wuxian and thus only tells him to tell her if he ever feels uncommon with Lan Wangji, and Jiang Cheng, who seemingly only grew more and more annoyed at this 'ungrateful' Lan Brat.

Jiang Cheng was annoyed because Jiang Fengmian said that Wei Wuxian wouldn't be able to attend as many classes with Jiang Cheng as before, now instead having to regularly visit the Lan Clan in order to further better relations. Jiang Cheng very much doesn't enjoy this.

"Why does that Lan Statue get to keep Wei Wuxian all to himself!?" Jiang Cheng complained loudly.

Wei Wuxian sighed, "Jiang Cheng, you can't say that about Lan—"

"I DON'T CARE! AREN'T YOU MY SHIXIONG!? WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SPEND TIME WITH THAT PIECE OF STONE—"

"Jiang Cheng, please stop yelling," Jiang Yanli groans, rubbing her head from the pain of hearing his screeching.

Wei Wuxian sighs in relief, "Thank you Shijie. Now can you tell him that he can't say those things about Lan–"

"Oh no. I agree with him."

Wei Wuxian felt his hope for this family die.

Jiang Cheng puffed his chest, seemingly proud seeing even Jiang Yanli agreed with him.

"SEE! EVEN A-JIE AGREES THAT STUPID UGLY STONE FACE–"

"I did not say that."

"–SHOULDN'T GET TO HOG ALL YOUR TIME! HE NOT EVEN FROM HERE AND YET HE INSISTS ON STEALING OUR HEAD DISCIPLE!?"

The door slammed open.

"JIANG CHENG! WHY ARE YOU YELLING!?"

"A-Niang!"

"Madam Yu!"

As Jiang Cheng was promptly pulled by the ear to be scolded by Madam Yu, Wei Wuxian couldn't help but smile happily at being called Shixiong with Jiang Yanli laughing at him too before also being dragged off by Madam Yu.

...

Eventually, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were sent to the GusuLan for the lectures.

While Jiang Cheng was busy preparing himself to present himself as a dignified heir, Wei Wuxian was silently excited to try and improve his friendship with Lan Wangji.

Yes, he had visited the boy a few times over the years, but many of their conversations would just end with Wei Wuxian talking to himself for an uncomfortable amount of time while Lan Wangji would just nod and 'Mhm' occasionally.

It was okay, Wei Wuxian would gladly continue this routine if it meant that the Jiangs and the Lans would maintain good relations, but he would prefer to actually be friends with the second Jade.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

"I don't know why you keep trying to talk to him... He clearly isn't worth yours, or anyone’s efforts."

Wei Wuxian just sighed.

"Jiang Cheng, please remember you can't say that when we're so close to the Gusu. What if an elder hears you and reports you to Madam Yu?"

Jiang Cheng flinched.

"Yeah yeah, but still," Jiang Cheng said. "Every time you try to talk to him, it makes me feel like punching him. He doesn't even greet you! The audacity!"

Wei Wuxian tried to stop him, but Jiang Cheng continued.

"First he steals you from helping me train! Then he forces you to come ALL the way to the Gusu every week to talk to him!? Who does he think he is!?"

Wei Wuxian shook his head, "Jiang Cheng, it doesn't matter that muc–"

"But it does!" Jiang Cheng yelled back. "You keep letting people walk all over you! Why don't you at least try to defend yourself!?"

"Jiang Cheng, please..." Wei Wuxian placed his hand on Jiang Cheng's shoulder. "It's not that bad. I can take whatever they say. I don't care about what they say about me."

Wei Wuxian tightened his grip on Jiang Cheng's shoulder.

"So please... Let me try and talk to Lan Wangji. I'm sure he doesn't mean anything bad! Maybe he's just shy?"

"Shy? Of you?"

"Jiang Cheng."

"Alright! Alright!" Jiang Cheng relented. "I wont insult him to his face! But that doesn't mean I have to like him!"

Wei Wuxian let out a sigh of relief, taking this as a rare win for himself.

"Good. Oh, and would you look at that? We're at our destination!"

Jiang Cheng turned and saw he was correct. Their ship was drawing near the ports of the Gusu, a quiet, yet large crowd of merchants and villagers doing their business on the docks.

[inky2556]

Magix Ultra

Chapter 2

Chiara was introduced to the rest of the new generation heroes. Things started off awkward at first but she warmed up to them as they did her. She was especially close to Grigio who went out of her way to make her feel welcomed. 

Zero, out of sheer curiosity, wanted to see what the new ultra was like. And he understood why everyone liked her. Chiara, despite having no memories, was fun to be around. It was like her presence lit up an entire room. 

They helped Chiara to adjust well while teaching her things she didn't know. Chiara who was timid and shy at the beginning soon became a little more forthcoming and confident. But only in front of them. She knew how to crack jokes too.

During her time with them, she explored the extent of her powers and what she could do.

Like all ultras she could fly. But whenever she flew a glowing circle with strange markings appeared under the soles of her feet and stayed there for as long as she flew. It was something that would appear on other things as well. Like when she tried putting up a shield. The same strange circle formed as her shield. She could also make and throw energy disk that can damage targets. The energy disks were in the form of the strange circle too.

Chiara had great potential to become an ultra warrior. Every time she tried something new she pushed herself to her limits right off the bat and continued to do so when no one was watching.

She did target practices until she could aim and hit accurately and trained herself to fight. She didn't want to be a burden to them. She wanted to go out and help them fight.

Chiara was determined to become stronger and fight alongside her friends. _______________________________________

Chiara, Grigio and the others were in the Colosseum watching Orb and X spar. Chiara was always more interested when it came to watching them do hand-to-hand combat. She felt awed seeing all sorts of techniques and moves. Suddenly, someone said from behind them,

"You wanna give it a try?" It was Zero.

"Me? Um... I guess it wouldn't hurt to try." said Chiara. They hoped onto the platform beside Orb and X who were taking a break.

"You can do it Chiara! Just try your best!" Grigio shouted.

"It's alright if you lose! It is Master after all." Everyone looked at Z who didn't realize his hiccup. Grigio whacked him for that.

"Ow! That ultra hurt!"

"That wasn't a nice thing to say Z!" Grigio scolded.

Zero did his usual hand-on-hip stance while Chiara stood there stiff as a board. Then he got into a fighting stance.

"Give it your best shot." 

Chiara took a deep breath breath before charging at him. As predicted her moves were awkward and she did more dodging then attack. But surprisingly, whenever she was knocked down she got back up rather quick and continued.

Then she fell into a rhythm that she felt familiar with. Her moves became swifter. She was able to dodge and land a few blows to Zero. It's not everyday you get to see a new ultra hold her own against Zero for so long.

"Go Chiara!"

"Dang, didn't know you had that much skill."

"This is so ultra cool!"

Zero was impressed. For someone who only sat on side lines she seemed to have her own fighting style figured out. Maybe it was muscle memory.

Just as she was about to charge again, an intense and sharp pain shot throughout her body. She would have fallen off the platform had Zero not caught her.

"Hey! Hey! What's the matter?!" She was shaking in his arms. It felt like her head was about to burst. Intense pain was coursing through her veins.

"It hurts...It hurts! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE!" Chiara was now twisting and turning while one hand clawed at the surface of the platform so hard it left visible marks. Her screams echoed in the training room which caused the other ultras to stop what they were doing.

"Hurry! Get Mother of Ultra quick!" _________________________________________

In a speed faster than lightning Zero flew to the medbay with Chiara in his arms. No more than a moment later Mother of Ultra appeared. She instructed him to place her on the bed before telling him to go out.

"What do you mean?! I can't just leave her here!" Zero tried to protest but was dragged out.

Before the doors closed on him he got one last look of Chiara. She wasn't screaming anymore but she was still twisting and crying in pain. _________________________________________

In the medbay Mother of Ultra was continuously treating Chiara with her powers and it only relieved her pain to some extent. Eventually Hikari was called in.

They had to hold her down to keep her from rolling off  the bed. Her color timer was flashing non stop and there were cracks in her skin where light seemed to be seeping out.

About an hour or so it all stopped when Chiara passed out. Her color timer wasn't beeping anymore and her skin was back to normal. Mother of Ultra checked to see if she was really okay while Hikari took some samples and scans to test and find out what was really going on.

When Mother of Ultra came out most of the new generation including Zero were already waiting.

"She's stable now. Although we don't know the real cause for her outburst, hopefully Hikari will be able to get answers once he's done his research." She informed them.

"Can we see her?" Grigio asked.

"Of course you can but I have to warn you, she's currently in a coma." They all gasped at that.

Inside the medbay they crowded around Chiara. Like what Mother of Ultra said, she was lying unresponsive on the bed.

Chiara was warm inside and out. Whenever one of them was feeling down her comfort cheered them up. Be it a pat on the head or a playful shove her touch always felt comforting. She was an all around warm and comforting ultra.

But when Grigio grasped her hand it felt really cold. This was wrong. Ultras shouldn't feel cold. Especially her." Poor Chiara, she must've been in so much pain."

"What do you think happened to her?"

"We don't know yet. Mother of Ultra says Hikari would hopefully have some answers once he's done running test." Said Geed. Silence fell as they were in their own thoughts until Z asked,

"What do we do now?"

~~~~~

Wattpad & AO3

[rocorambles]

A Hell of a Good Start

Pairing: Kageyama x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Fluff and Smut, Insecure reader, Kageyama is a socially awkward sweetheart

Summary: It's hard not to feel self-conscious when your boyfriend is arguably one of Japan's most attractive professional athletes. But Kageyama is there to prove that there's absolutely nothing for you to be insecure about. 

A/N: Dedicating this to @shoyokuns for all the bullying I've put her through since April Fool's 🤣😘

It was only hours after the handsome dark haired man stuttered out some words and chucked a canned latte in your hands, shoving a crumpled piece of paper in your hands, that you realized you had been asked out. And even then you could hardly believe your eyes as you stared at the numerical digits and name scrawled across the receipt. 

Kageyama Tobio 

He’s a regular at your cafe and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken notice of him. How could you not when he towers above most other Japanese citizens, striking blue eyes and muscular body attracting the attention of many others than just yourself. And if his physical appearance alone wasn’t enough for him to stand out, his usual order definitely would have definitely seared itself into your mind as unusual. 

When you had first seen the scowl that seemed to be glued on his face, you had been ready to just pour a hot cup of black coffee. So imagine your surprise when he orders the sweetest latte on the menu, requesting extra milk despite the fact that the white liquid already makes up most of said drink. But oddly it makes sense as he shyly mutters a thank you in a low gruff voice and you realize that he’s just been cursed by a bad case of RBF.  

It just makes sense to start having longer small talks and conversations with him, considering how you see him everyday, and although it’s usually fairly one-sided, with little nods of affirmation and grunts of acknowledgement from your customer, you find yourself enjoying his company. 

You’ve always been told you’re too nosy and curious for your own good, but one day you can’t help but ask about the sports duffel he carries with him all the time, blinking with wide eyes and shaking your head side to side when he gapes at you, incredulously asking you if you really don’t recognize the team name or logo. The two of you once again have a one-sided conversation, but this time it’s you silently listening and learning, staring at him in amazed amusement as he rambles on and on about volleyball and the Schweiden Adlers. And maybe, just maybe, you can feel a little flutter in your heart as you listen to him go on and on, passion and love evident in his gleaming eyes. 

Sports have never been a big part of your life, but you find yourself leaving the volleyball channel on in the background whenever you’re home after that encounter, almost tripping over yourself to get to your couch when you hear Kageyama’s name announced on television, jaw dropping in disbelief when you see ad after ad of reputable companies and famous products using him to market their goods. Turns out your new acquaintance is a much much bigger deal than you had thought. 

You tell yourself that what you feel for him is just a little work crush, just a temporary thing that will fade away over time. But it doesn’t, only getting stronger as he begins to open up, beaming in excitement when you shyly tell him you watched some of his matches on TV and although you don’t really understand the sport, you think he looked pretty amazing on the court. It’s easy to believe and hope that it’s mutual interest, when it’s just the two of you alone in that small cafe, but every time you see his face in magazines and billboards across the city, reality sinks in, and you shove your feelings deep down. What could a professional athlete possibly see in you? 

A lot more than you had thought, you realize, as you shakily save the digits to your phone, praying to anyone who’s listening that this isn’t just a cruel prank when you press the call button, almost dropping your device in relieved surprise when a familiar voice greets you over the line. 

The rest is history as you begin to attend his matches in person and are officially introduced to his teammate, Ushijima Wakatoshi, leaving you wondering if social awkwardness is contagious, but heart warming from your first video chat with Hinata Shoyo, your boyfriend’s best friend, although Kageyama would rather have a ball spiked to his head before ever referring to the orange-haired athlete as such. 

Your relationship is sweet, albeit chaotic at times as both of you learn the ropes of dating each other. It never ceases to amaze you that despite how fiery and commanding your lover is on the court, he’s truly a lost puppy just trying to do his best in your dating life. Thank God for how genuine and pure his intentions are, how he never leaves you in doubt about how much he loves and cares for you, even if his actions and words don’t always portray it. And you let out a fond yet exasperated chuckle every time he puts his foot in his mouth around you, giggling in amusement when he immediately tries to backtrack, stuttering and tripping over his words as he tries to apologize and retry wording his compliments and concerns. 

But unlike his social mishaps, his physical aptitude seems to stretch farther than just the court and you’re left a flustered mess when calloused hands so naturally find themselves interlaced with yours, when a broad chest is pulling you in for a hug almost like second nature. There’s not a single bit of hesitation or timidness as he holds you close, easily burying his face and nose in the crook of your neck, finding comfort in your presence. And this time it’s him who leads the charge as soothing affectionate caresses become more intimate and sensual, until you’re tumbling into bed with him one night. 

Kageyama doesn’t have a ton of experience, but what he lacks in that department, he more than makes up for with natural instincts and sharp calculating eyes. It’s almost unreal how attune he is to every little sound and movement you make, discovering places inside and outside of you that even you didn’t know could make you react so viscerally. But you’re thankful for his naivety, thankful he never thinks to question why you always insist on keeping the lights off, why you always distract him when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, why you always position yourself so that your stomach and face are turned away from him as he takes you from behind.  

It’s hard not to be insecure about your body when you’re around a professional athlete like Kageyama and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it other than to make sure you’re staying healthy when he questions what you eat, know that he loves how you look regardless of the fact that you’re nowhere near as in shape as he is. But when you see the pretty fangirls who fawn over your boyfriend, when you see the gorgeous models he poses with in advertisements, it’s impossible not to compare. And when the both of you are naked and you see his rippling muscles and Adonis-like figure, all your self-doubts bubble to the surface, boiling and burning you in their wake. 

He thinks these things are just your preference and he wants nothing more than to make sure you feel as comfortable and good as possible, so he follows your lead, hands immediately shying away from your shirt when you bring his hands to grope your breasts from over the fabric and ignoring the pout playing on his lips when he can’t see you as clearly as he wants in the dim lighting. 

But when he begins to practice with the Japan national team, quietly sipping on his own drink as his teammates get drunk and rowdy at a team happy hour one night, he furrows his brows questioningly as Atsumu and Bokuto ramble on about their sex lives. It’s no surprise to anyone, himself included, that Atsumu prefers it wild in bed, testing out and experimenting with different positions. But what does surprise him is when Bokuto emphatically shakes his head and excitedly rants about how underrated good old vanilla missionary sex is, how there’s something so intimate and beautiful about being able to stare into each other’s eyes as you make love to each other, only to be lightheartedly jeered at and teased for being a romantic by some members of the team. 

Yet Kageyama doesn’t pay them any mind, too focused on trying to piece together this new piece of information he’s learned. Missionary? Looking at each other’s faces? Romantic? Intimate? He had assumed that it wasn’t something people liked. You certainly didn’t seem to enjoy the position or eye contact during sex in general. But Bokuto’s eyes had literally sparkled as he had shouted about it and you had always fondly told Kageyama in secret what a romantic sap the owl-like man is. Had he been reading your signals and body language wrong all this time? Were you not enjoying the intimate nights you spent together? 

No, that can’t be true and he flushes a bit, remembering your pretty whimpers and lewd moans he’d dragged out of you, the screaming of his name as your body convulsed around him. No, you have been feeling good. He does make you feel good! But then why...why does it feel like he’s missing something? 

He’s never been subtle and it’s obvious he’s still deep in thought when he retires to his shared hotel room with Iwaizumi. The green-eyed trainer stares at the setter curiously, unsure whether or not to directly question Kageyama about what’s bothering him. They’ve become much closer ever since reconnecting on the national team and Iwaizumi is fond of the younger man, despite Oikawa’s squawking and whining whenever he even hears the ex-Karasuno setter’s name. But despite their new blossoming friendship, some things don’t change. Kageyama and Iwaizumi have always erred on the more reserved side of the social scale, so the spiky haired ex-ace resigns to stay silent, allowing the setter to come to him as he wishes. 

Except Kageyama approaches much sooner than he thought he would and Iwaizumi is stunned speechless by the blunt wording and topic of his question. 

“Does your girlfriend like missionary sex?” 

There’s silence as blue and green eyes just stare at each other, one pair laced with steely resolve, the other filled with shock and confusion. In any other scenario, Iwaizumi would wonder if this was a joke, maybe even be affronted and scowl at how rude and personal the question is. And yet, as he scans Kageyama over, sees the genuine curiosity and determination in his eyes, he just sighs, wondering how he managed to end up being the trainer of so many social deviants. 

“Yes, sometimes.” 

“How often do you guys have missionary sex?”

“Are you- Are you taking notes?!”

There’s wrestling, some grunts and growling, a smack on the head, and then there’s silence as Iwaizumi questioningly looks at the younger athlete who’s rubbing his sore forehead, silently demanding answers as he holds the pad of paper and pen Kageyama had been dutifully writing on hostage. He wonders if maybe he should take it easy on him, almost considering this a lost cause, but then words are spilling out of Kageyama’s mouth and he quietly listens, a small knowing smile slipping on his face as the setter nervously explains everything, blushing as he discusses his sex life with his ex-senpai. And then it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to talk, and Kageyama hopefully smiles at the older man when the trainer grins at him, clamping a strong hand on his shoulder reassuringly, telling him that he just needs to talk to you about it and that he’s sure everything will be just fine once you two discuss it over. 

But he is a bit confused by the last word of advice his senpai gives him. 

“And Kageyama, make sure you remind your girlfriend that you think she’s beautiful.” 

Of course you’re beautiful. Perfect, really. Why would he need to tell you that? Isn’t it obvious?

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, an amused grin on his face when he sees the clear confusion on Kageyama’s face at his parting words. But he sleeps easy, confident that the two of you will be just fine.  

You’re not sure what’s transpired at Kageyama’s latest training camp with the Japan national team, but you can feel your lover’s eyes practically piercing you with how hard they study you, relentlessly trailing your figure, an unsaid question heavy in the air. The tension is thick and you tiptoe around the elephant in the room, wondering exactly what has your boyfriend so on edge and just when it becomes unbearable, just when you’re about to confront him directly, he moves first and it takes every reflex you have not to drop the cup of water you have in your hand. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

Kageyama is not expecting or ready for the torrential flood that is now running from your eyes and all he can do is rush towards you, clutching you tightly in his arms, apologizing profusely (although he’s unsure exactly what he should be sorry about). But blubbered words escape alongside the salty tears and the athlete listens to every syllable, arms almost crushing you, fingers digging almost painfully into your skin, his own heart shattering when he hears the self-doubt and self-hate you’ve been suffering through alone. And soon both of you are sobbing messes as Kageyama tells you over and over again how beautiful you are, how perfect you are, how he loves you just the way you are, repeating himself until his throat is sore and you’re pushing the glass of water you had set aside to his dry lips. 

This time as he gently pulls you with him towards your shared bedroom, he adjusts the lights until he can clearly see you, slowly coaxing you with reassuring kisses and tender caresses until he feels the tension in your shoulders relax. Neither of you can keep count of just how many times Kageyama tells you how beautiful you are, but it’s never enough for your greedy praise-starved ears and he softly smiles at how you seem to relax and melt more and more into his touches with every praise that falls from his lips. He doesn’t stop praising you as he gradually pushes the fabric of your shirt up, only pausing to intimately kiss, taste, and touch every inch of newly exposed skin he’s privy to. But then there’s silence when he finally hooks the material off of you and he just stares, breath caught in his chest as he takes in the sight of you laid completely bare before him for the first time. 

Your hands move to cover yourself, face turning away, unable to hold his intense gaze, feeling so vulnerable and exposed. But your neck whips back to look above you when calloused hands carefully, but firmly grasp your wrists, laying them back down besides you, eyes still roaming over your naked figure. Your heart races at the love and hunger you see in cobalt eyes and suddenly you can’t tear your eyes away from him, lost in endless blue. 

It’s almost sinful how good it feels, how much more sensual the slowness and explorative nature of your skin on skin dance feels and you curse yourself for having denied yourself this pleasure all this time as Kageyama’s lips swallow your hardened nipples, hot tongue circling and lapping at the sensitive bud, sucking in a way that has you writhing underneath him, whimpering when you see hazy blue eyes lustfully studying you. And when he finally enters you after what feels like a lifetime of foreplay and teasing, your body more riled up than it’s ever been, humiliating whines for more slipping past your lips, too filled with desire to be even remotely self-conscious, you swear you almost cum just from his cock sliding balls deep inside of you. 

The two of you have arguably done filthier things, his cock reaching even deeper inside of you when he has you on all fours doggy-style underneath him, when you’re riding on top of him in reverse cowgirl. But as your eyes lock onto each other while you’re connected below, both of you can’t deny that there’s a new level of intimacy, of arousal, that makes even the most minute movements feel amplified, every shift of hips and the slightest brushes of skin against skin flooding both of you with dizzying pleasure. 

There’s no rush or urgency to completion like there normally is when the two of you chase your ends and it’s a slow and gradual crescendo, every note and every key painstakingly and reverently played. Hips slowly grind against each other, Kageyama’s cock dragging against your sopping wet walls, lips melding against each other as you languidly kiss each other all the while. You can feel a powerful buildup rising inside of you, something fuller, more overwhelming than even the mind blowing pleasure Kageyama always bestows upon you. And when he pulls his mouth away from yours, laces his fingers with yours as his hips begin to increase their pace, snapping harder as he feels his own end approaching, he bends down and murmurs into your ear, a mantra of how beautiful you are, how much he loves you. 

That’s all it takes, that low baritone voice filling your senses, his words the last push you need. You’re free falling, convulsing, gripping him tightly, walls clamping down around his pistoning cock and he loses any control or restraint he had as he desperately observes you, trying to brand every twitch of your face, every sound you make into his memory. If he thought you were beautiful before, you’re absolutely breathtaking like this, a face expression so purely filled with your essence, so raw, so unimpeded by any inhibitions. And he joins you over that pleasurable cliff, ignorant of how your own eyes just as greedily take in the sight of his chiseled face contorted in bliss, Adama’s apple on full display as he throws his head back. 

The two of you bask in the post-coital haze, bodies feeling boneless as Kageyama carefully lays slightly to the side of you, lower bodies still intimately connected, one of his legs thrown over yours as he affectionately holds your still trembling body to his, both of you panting and melting into the cushioned mattress. It feels safe and comforting in his arms and you allow yourself to nuzzle even closer to him, almost sinking into his warmth and letting exhaustion overtake you. 

But as the leftover tendrils of pleasure begin to fade away, your senses become more alert and you nervously bite your lower lip, the exposed nature of your still naked figure suddenly all too apparent to you. You subtly reach for the blankets, trying not to accidentally awaken the slumbering man still tucked against you as you attempt to cover yourself, eyes darting around for your clothes, desperate to hide yourself and shield your body from view once again. 

Old habits and insecurities don’t just change overnight after all. 

You’re so focused on your tasks at hand that you don’t notice blue eyes blearily blinking, trying to make sense of all the little shuffling that had awakened him. But you yelp when you’re suddenly made immobile by two strong arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you snugly against a toned chest once more. 

“Tobio! Let me go put on pajamas at least.”

You flush when Kageyama pointedly stares down at his own completely naked body before staring at yours, a deadpan expression on his face as he inquisitively gazes at you. 

“I- Uh...I’m cold! Yeah, I’m cold-”

There’s nothing convincing in your tone as you stammer out the excuse, too embarrassed to voice the real reason out loud when Kageyama had done nothing but reassure you and make you feel like the most stunning woman in the world, even if it was just temporary. But before you can spiral any further, your thoughts are cut off by a fluffy comforter blanketing and enveloping both Kageyama and you, the setter already re-closing his eyes after deeming you sufficiently tucked in and “covered”, although your self-consciousness begs to differ as your bare skin brushes against your lover. 

You open your mouth to protest, but as if sensing your thoughts, one blue eye peeks open and you’re silenced by a stern “go to sleep”, strong arms wrapping around you even more tightly than before, keeping you still. And you can’t help but smile, shaking your head in fond exasperation as Kageyema’s stubbornness wins out over any self-doubt festering inside of you this time around, letting yourself find peace and security in his arms. 

Old habits and insecurities don’t just go away overnight, but this is a hell of a good start.

[emblemxeno]

Fire Emblem Fates: Personal Arcs and Thematic Parallels for the Royal Siblings

Introduction

As we all know by now, the royal siblings of Fates are all mirrors and contrasts with one another.

Xander and Ryoma are the wise and kind elder brothers who have the weight of their kingdoms’ futures on their shoulders, however Xander is an anxious stoic entrenched in state of denial who worked hard to get as strong as he is, whereas Ryoma is a charismatic natural talent, a huge hothead and has major prejudice issues.

Camilla and Hinoka are the caring elder sisters, with Camilla being overbearing and feminine and Hinoka being stubborn and tomboyish. 

Leo and Takumi are the intelligent younger brothers who face massive self esteem issues (in regards to their older brothers) and jealousy (in regards to Corrin), but while Leo’s problems are hidden under a layer of cold pragmatism and isolation, Takumi’s are front and center since he is very emotionally volatile. 

Elise and Sakura are the sweet and compassionate little sisters, with Elise being excitable and cheery and Sakura being shy and timid.

However, these aren’t the only parallels that exist between the siblings. More parallels are discovered when you look at the story closely. Especially when you lock down each of their personal arcs. Furthermore, close analysis reveals other interesting parallels, namely for Leo and Hinoka in regards to their brothers, Xander and Ryoma.

Themes, Arcs and Developments: Hoshido & Birthright

The development for the Hoshido siblings and the Birthright path is belief in others, collaboration and tolerance. The siblings start off separated from each other, with Takumi and Ryoma going missing and Hinoka having already left to go find them. 

Corrin’s belief in others gets tested through being double crossed by Zola, and the possibility of there being a traitor in the party. Nevertheless, his doubts don’t consume him, and his belief in himself and others gets him through tragedy. Many times in the story, trust and working together gets brought up, like during Chapter 14 where Corrin asks if anyone’s reluctant to move forward with the invasion, but his siblings reassure him. The same thing occurs when Corrin learns about the Rainbow Sage; at first he says if he needs to go alone, he will. But again, his siblings make sure to come with and support him. This dovetails into how the siblings personally develop as well.

Through Corrin accepting Sakura’s pleas to come with them, Sakura goes from meek and unsure princess to a strong willed young woman who’s able to punch Iago in the dick. Through being reassured and believed in by his family, Takumi goes from a prickly skeptic to a confident and heartfelt prince. Through learning of Nohr’s plight and accepting that he can’t do everything alone, Ryoma goes from a stubborn and prejudiced high prince to a tolerant King who seeks to break boundaries and misconceptions, walking hand in hand with his former enemy. The siblings enjoy their newfound perspective and the peace that comes with it; the peace their mother cherished.

Themes, Arcs and Developments: Nohr and Conquest

The development for the Nohrian siblings and the Conquest path is moving on to the future, where justice lies and change. Nohr and the siblings are set in their ways; doing what needs to be done to survive. Upon his return to Nohr, Corrin seeks to change that necessity and bring an era where Nohr can seek glory through mutual respect, not oppression. His willpower gets tested constantly; at times he succeeds in settling things peacefully, at other times he fails or his plan backfires. Still he moves on, working behind the scenes toward his own path of justice, along with his siblings who have done the same for much longer than he has.

Through Corrin’s leadership and conviction, Xander is shown the truth, and from that leaves behind his entrenched way of thinking. He grows from a scared crown prince set in his ways, into a benevolent King promising to bring prosperity to his kingdom through his own sense of justice. Camilla is able to cut away from the same mindset, no longer being afraid of the monster her father has become. Her love for her family outgrows her fear of Garon, the fear that was established during the aftermath of the Cheve rebellion. Elise starts out naive and innocent, but playing a part in the tragedies that unfold gives her perspective. When she first meets Sakura, she’s childish and selfish, but later comforts the Hoshidan princess during a time of great pain. At the end of the route, the two are fast friends as a result of Elise’s compassion. The siblings enjoy the light they are able to bring to their kingdom and the future they seek to walk towards.

The Outliers

But in all that, there remain two siblings whom I didn’t really name specifics for: Hinoka and Leo. This is because, other than the general development of the siblings as a collective and the themes of their routes, they don’t really change too much. Leo starts as the pragmatic executioner who imparts the course which Corrin begins to take, and remains as such later in Conquest. Hinoka is the stoic and determined princess whose concern is the protection of those she cares for, and she remains as such later in Birthright. Neither seems to have personal growth to accomplish other than the general themes of their routes. 

That is, until you look at the routes in which you oppose them.

In fact, a new form of development occurs for all of the siblings when you oppose them, and with that, come new parallels.

Opposing Paths and New Parallels

Xander and Ryoma remain each other’s mirror and contrast. On the respective paths that you oppose them on, they are the notable threat to overcome later in the game. You encounter both of them in earlier chapters as well, and both of their maps are escape objectives; this shows in gameplay how much stronger they are compared to Corrin and how it is the smarter decision to pull back and regroup. They both can’t forgive Corrin for betraying their kingdom and family, but while Xander accepts Corrin has turned traitor, Ryoma is intent on bringing him back by any means necessary. Upon Elise’s death at his hand, Xander falls into despair and forces Corrin to strike him down. Ryoma on the other hand, sacrifices himself to spare Corrin the hardship of striking him down when he realizes his brother is still the kind soul he thought he was. 

The elder brothers are the ultimate test of Corrin’s resolve, to see if he’s ready to finish the path he started. The loss of these two are a tragedy, and the impact is felt in many ways.

Takumi and Elise gain new mirrors and contrasts with each other. For starters, each of them get inflicted with illness and reveal a truth they wouldn’t otherwise have awareness of during their delirium. It’s the suffering of these two that gets highlighted the most on routes you oppose them. Elise is miserable from her family being broken apart, and has to escape her home just to find some semblance of joy. Takumi meanwhile, lashes out more and more against Corrin, becoming more volatile and suffering from constant headaches. Elise only fights you once (and even then she’s an optional fight), while Takumi fights you the most out of any other sibling. Both of them end up losing their lives through indirect means; Elise throws herself in front of Xander’s sword in a bid to get him to stop fighting. Takumi throws himself off the Great Wall of Susano-o, blinded by rage, frustration and sadness. 

Takumi and Elise are major victims of this war and the path Corrin chose, victims who expressed their misery in different ways.

Camilla and Sakura are each other’s mirror and contrast. These two probably have the most difficult parallels to pin down, but they are there nonetheless. When Corrin chose Hoshido, Camilla lost her security; her family is broken apart and she can’t do anything to stop it. She is forced to accept that Corrin has left her to join Hoshido, and finally comes to terms with it after her second encounter. When Corrin chose Nohr, Sakura lost her solace; her country is being invaded, she had just lost her mother and now her older sibling is choosing to go back to the kingdom responsible for her suffering. She is forced to suck it up and defend her home on the from the front lines. Instead of development coming naturally due to positive reveals and encouragements, both sisters are forced to change in order not to break entirely. 

Camilla and Sakura are loving sisters who now have to accept a harsh reality during and after a war they had no control of.

Bear the Crown, Bear the Development

That leaves Hinoka and Leo, and this is where they each get major development as opposed to their native routes. 

Hinoka and Leo were spared by Corrin after thinking they were gonna be killed, and eventually the thrones fall to them when the war concludes. After all, Hoshido favors kings over queens so if it wasn’t Ryoma, it would be Takumi. Nohr has an age based inheritance, so if it wasn’t Xander, it would be Camilla. Leo and Hinoka never dreamed it would be up to them to lead their kingdoms. When they bear the crown, they bear the weight of a responsibility they never expected.

However, when looking at it closely, it seems they also bear the character development their older brothers would’ve had.

Leo has battled feelings of inadequacy and jealousy in regards to his siblings already, but Corrin choosing Hoshido causes those feelings to surface. He’s angry and hurt over it all, but hides that under a layer of cold-bloodedness. Leo, promising to kill Corrin at every turn, thinks of his brother as dead to him.  However, Leo later finds himself. When talking with Corrin and seeing the truth about Garon, he realizes that Nohr doesn’t have to remain the way it is in order to survive. 

Leo at the end of Birthright begins to feel similar to Xander at the end of Conquest.

Hinoka has dealt with the guilt of Corrin’s kidnapping for over a decade. She became strong by choosing the path of the warrior as opposed of the princess. When Corrin chooses Nohr, she is in disbelief; after all, why would her brother return to to his kidnappers? She resolves to defeat him, and thinks of her dream of being a family again as a fantasy that will never come to fruition. However, Hinoka later believes otherwise. When talking with Corrin and seeing him and his Nohrian siblings work to end the war in a different way, she realizes that Hoshido’s beliefs about Nohr are wrong and that those misconceptions must be cleared. 

Hinoka at the end of Conquest begins to feel similar to Ryoma at the end of Birthright.

Conclusion

Leo and Hinoka each become the rulers that their kingdoms needed. They fill the space left by Xander and Ryoma. They don’t have personal arcs on their native routes nor on Revelation because there’s no absence to be filled; they can remain as they are, rather than be bound by the weight of the crown. Their rule as monarchs is bittersweet, for it’s a role neither of them expected, but they perform said role well nonetheless.

That’s, at least, how I feel about all of this. Of course, this whole thing isn’t a perfect interpretation, nor does the game handle this aspect as well as it could have. Hinoka still lacks in number of notable appearances compared to pretty much every other sibling; hell, there are even scenes in Birthright where every sibling except Hinoka appear. Leo, meanwhile, has many more scenes of importance, especially since he wields a divine weapon and his big hero moment triggers the Yato’s transformation during Conquest. The negative effects of Hinoka’s later addition are still very present, and it’s something that I hope would be done better in a possible Fates remaster. 

As it stands now though, I still think all of this is done well enough for everything I described. Fates’ story is smarter than one might think, and I believe all of this is an example of that.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Pendent.

Written for a lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Bokuto/Reader.

Word Count: 2.0k.

TW: F. Reader, Toxic Relationships, Possessive Mindsets, Co-Dependency, and (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation.

[Part Two]

Bokuto was better, when you were around.

Better at playing, obviously, at spiking and receiving and controlling his temper when his performance couldn’t keep up with his temper, but he felt like he was better at everything, from volleyball to mathematics. He felt lighter, he felt stronger, and rarely, when you sat down and smiled so patiently and let him rest his head in your lap as you helped him study, he might’ve been grateful enough to say he felt smarter, too. You’d never believe him, but he’s a caring boyfriend, like that. He’ll always try to make you feel as good as he does, when you’re next to him.

It was only natural, really. The two of you were soulmates, a complementary pair. Bokuto’d been sure of that since the first time he saw you, following in Akaashi footsteps like a kicked puppy, a transfer student fresh from another city entirely, desperately lost and eager to latch onto as many familiar faces as you could. You’d made friends since then, obviously. Hell, your popularity might’ve rivalled Bokuto’s, but he’d liked those first few weeks. His heart had skipped a beat the first time you came to one of Fukurōdani’s games, and he could still remember the first time you’d spoken to him, tripping over your words as you introduced yourself with that small, endearing smile constantly pulling at the corners of your lips. You hadn’t really liked him at first, even if you were always too nice to admit it. You must’ve been intimidated, put off by the friend of a friend who was, admittedly, far from subtle about his interest in you. But, that’s alright. It’s in the past, and all of that happened before he had you, before you had him.

You made him better. The two of you made each other better, and Bokuto wouldn’t know what to do without you.

You agreed to watch him practice, today, too. He should’ve kept his mind on the drills, on the coach’s critics and Akaashi’s quiet requests for him to try to concentrate on the game at-hand, but it was difficult to stay focused with the love of his life so close, leaning against the nearest guard-rail, waving every time his eyes strayed from the court and towards you, instead. It was an instinct, honestly, a reflex to adore his very own masterpiece. Knowing you were there for him only made it better, even if he’d never pass up any opportunity to be close to you. Still, he liked knowing you cared. He liked having you so close. He liked everything about you, but he liked knowing you were his the most--

A volleyball collided with the back of Bokuto’s head, and instantly, he was pulled out of his thoughts and into reality. He snapped around, finding Konoha with one arm still raised and his mouth already open, cutting in before Bokuto could start to complain. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re taking a break,” He explained, only pausing to pick up the ball rolling idly in this direction. “Stop making eyes at your girlfriend and go talk to her, before she realizes she’s dating a stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker,” Bokuto whined, but he was already fighting the urge to find you again, just to make sure you were still there. Just to ease his own paranoid concerns, even if he knew they’d start to brew again as soon as you were out of sight. “You’re just jealous I go to ‘er first. No one that pretty ever comes to see you play.”

Konoha only scoffed, turning on his heel. “That’s because some of us can play without an audience, dumbass.”

Bokuto almost took the time to retort, but he didn’t get the chance. There was a flash of movement in the corner of his vision, a slight hint of color in his peripheral, and then you were wrapped around his arm, leaning against his bicep as you rested your cheek on his shoulder with a contented sigh. It was routine, you’d always been the affectionate type, but Bokuto couldn’t help but feel special. He wanted to feel special, when you went out of your way to touch him. “Kotaro,” You started, drawing out his name playfully, and Bokuto had to bite back a grin. It’d taken you months to use his given name, but the thrill of it never seemed to wear off. “You were great out there, you have to show me how you--”

“One second, alright?” You fell silent, but you brightened as he took your head, pulling away and beginning to tug you in the direction of the gym’s exit. “It’s just a little crowded in here, ‘s all. I want to be alone with you, for a while.”

Your smile wavered, but you didn’t argue, only sinking into his side as he led you outside, the courtyard thankfully empty. Usually, Bokuto wasn’t the jealous type. He wasn’t possessive, and he’d never want to smother you, but there was something satisfying about having you all to himself, about having your eyes on him as he pinned you against the back of the gym, one arm supporting him and the other snaking around your waist, pulling you into his chest as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting himself sigh for the first time since practice started. 

Your laugh was like windchimes, like bells, like heaven, ringing out every time he kissed your neck and spurring Bokuto forward despite your attempts to distract him. It was more playful than anything, your fingers tangling themselves in his messy hair as you shake your head, but either way, it didn’t work. It would’ve taken a lot more to rip him away from you, and you should’ve known that.

Still, you scolded him, clicking your tongue before you spoke. “We’re still in public,” You chided, tugging on the collar of his shirt, making a half-hearted attempt to pull him away before giving up, resigning yourself to his eager pecks at your jugular, to the hand slipping under the hem of your skirt, just enough to squeeze your thigh. “If you’re going to be this impatient, I’m going to have to keep you muzzled.” A nip, this time, to the junction of your jaw, and he heard you fight the urge to giggle. “I don’t want your teammates catching us in a… compromising position, y’know?”

Right, of course not. You were always the shy type, too timid to be anything but awkwardly charming, but Bokuto wasn’t. He liked to think he could be the one to break you out of your shell, too, as long as he tried hard enough. “Afraid to show me off?” He laughed, earning a scoff and a soft shove to his chest. “It’s fine, baby. If anyone sees anything, I’ll handle it.”

There was a beat of silence, a tangible deflation. He almost drew back, almost asked what was wrong, but you were talking before he had the chance. “I don’t like the way you handle things, ‘taro.”

You weren’t joking, this time. Your tone was enough to make Bokuto realize that, still stand-offish, but colder, distant in a way that seemed more disappointed than angry. He didn’t let you go, but his grip tightened, blunt nails digging into your soft skin with just enough force to catch your attention. Instantly, you tried to backtrack. “No, I mean, I appreciate it, but you can just be so…” You trailed off, your voice falling into a breathy sigh. “I think you get a little too excited, sometimes. It scares people. It scares me, honestly.”

Something cracked inside of Bokuto’s chest. It wasn’t the first time you’d brought this up, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last, but it always hurt him to hear you talk about him like… like some overly aggressive jerk. He wasn’t, not really. If he approached one of your friends, it was only because he didn’t trust them, because he knew you were delicate and he’d never be able to forgive himself if you got hurt. If he got a little too bold with a few underclassmen, it was only because he’d heard your name brought up a little too casually in a conversation that wasn’t as respectful as it should’ve been. As your boyfriend, it was the least he could do, and he knew you’d understand if explained that. He knew you would. You’d have to.

Because if you didn’t, things would go back to the way they used to be, before you made him better. When you were still so shy, when you were too busy being swarmed by distraction to see him, to realize the two of you belonged together. It wasn’t your fault. You were new to this, knew to him, but back then, he would’ve done just about anything for your attention. He’d been distraught. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and even on the court, he couldn’t play, not if he knew you wouldn’t be watching. The rest of the team had noticed, but they couldn’t do anything to help. He hadn’t been able to pull himself together, not until you came up to him, white envelope in your hands and your eyes on the floor. Not until he knew you cared about him. Not until he knew you loved him.

Not until you made him better, whether or not you’d meant to.

He knew you liked being popular. It was fun, he’d be the first to admit that. You liked having friends, having fans, having people who left gifts at the foot of your locker and offered to help you study and saw you, even if you rarely let yourself indulge in the privilege. He knew you liked it, but he liked you, he loved you, and all of that, all of them threatened to take you away from him. He’d be a wreck without you. Bokuto didn’t know much, but he knew that. He wouldn’t be able to breath if you left him, if he just sat back and let you leave him.

He stopped thinking, for a moment. It might’ve been a little too impulsive, looking back on it, just a touch too rough, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop, not as he jerked forward, slotting his mouth against yours before you could pull away. He tried to make the kiss as gentle as he could, once he realized what he was doing, but there still must’ve been that jolt of neediness behind it, that undeniable desperation. He could barely bring himself to pull away, but he tried to remind himself that he’d have more time. If you loved him, he’d have more time, and you had to love him.

“I’m sorry.” He was gasping, fighting to turn awful, blurring emotions into something coherent while you stared on, your expression a mix of stun and halting concern. “You know I’d never want to scare you, right, baby? You mean so much to me, and the last thing I’d do is hurt you. I just thought I could help.” He forced himself to stop, after that, to take a breath before he started again, attempting to sound more composed, this time. “You know how much you mean to me, don’t you? And you know I love you, right?”

You seemed reluctant, but you answered. “I know, ‘taro.”

“And you know I’d be a mess without you, right?”

“You’re a mess with me.” This time, there was a hint of something playful, just a ghost of a smile as you went on. “I just need you to promise to be a little more considerate, next time. I know you’re just trying to do what you think is best, but I really need you to try to think these things through. For me.”

You might’ve hesitated, but Bokuto didn’t. He didn’t need to. You were the love of his life, his soulmate, the only person in the world he’d ever cared about this much, and he’d do anything for you.

He was better, when you were around, and he needed to be better.

“I promise.”

[asexualdrago]

FNAF SB: Montgomery and Gregory

The ball fell into the hole as a number 14 glowed in illuminated lights. “Hole in one” he muttered to himself. His joints and gears felt stiff. Almost hurting at times but as a performer he had to keep up his work and make the kids happy. He waltzed over to the hole and picked his ball up to head over to the next hole but stopped when he felt something touch his shoulder pad. He jumped and snarled at them. Only to realize it was only Glamrock Chica. “Hey Chic, sorry about that.” 

Chica had her feathered hand over her chest in a way as if grabbing her chest to soothe pounding heart. “Geez Monty, what was that for?” She noticed him rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. “You ok? You seem tense. Cheese and crackers, your wires are stiff!” Monty only rolled his eyes and shook her hand off his shoulder. “I can’t get tense Chica. I am made of metal. And what do you want? I am busy.” He growled his last sentence to her. Her response was to put her hands on her hips. Almost resembling an annoyed mother. “Don’t get an attitude with me. Vanessa just notified us that she’s bringing Gregory over again to see all of us. That’s why I came here to tell you.” She said with a glare. Monty would admit that she could be scary at times. Sure he was the strongest of the group and argue with Freddy sometimes and fight with Roxanne but there was no way he could take on Chica when she was angry. 

Some kind of “mother hen” instincts or something like that. “Sorry momma,” with another roll of his eyes. Chica just shook her head. “Look, just... try to relax and be nice to Gregory when he gets here alright? I don’t want Freddy or Vanessa hassling you later for being rude.” He merely nodded and went back to his golfing. He could feel that Chica was still staring at him. Not out of irritation but in concern over her friend. He could hear her metal feet pound against the fake grass and walk out of his golf course. He rolled his head to stretch his wires and pulled his arms over his head. “Gregory’s coming over huh?” 

He would’ve guess that the kid would have stayed away or better yet be terrified of them after what happened but the kid surprised him. He was still shy of them but he was still able to interact with them and play with them. Well most of them. The child was still timid of Montgomery. Maybe it was because the alligator was much more intimidating than the others. He was more of punk, get physical kind of guy, or gator. Taking a look into his room, many people would get an idea of what he was like, or assume what he was like. Taking aim he putted his ball. He wasn’t really the emotional type. Watching it roll towards its goal and once again, another hole in one. 

He could feel his gears tensing again. He growled in pain grabbing onto his bicep. “Time for a break.” He grabbed his ball and golf club and went to his green room to relax for a bit. Before he could he heard two voices coming his way. He turned his head over to the left to see the nightguard, Vanessa and Gregory walking together as they were talking. “I am not sure about that Greg. But you can ask them.” Vanessa told them as she ruffled his hair and went off to do her job. Leaving Gregory alone as she called Monty over to watch him. “W-what? Why? Isn’t he your responsibility?” He argued. “You guys entertain kids don’t you? Besides I have to secure the place, be nice to him alright.” And just like that she walked away. He threw his arms in the air and shouted “The hell?!” after her. “Are you serious? Our regular nightguards don’t pull this shit!”

Vanessa shouted as she was a few meters away “I have work to do!” Gregory’s shy demeanor appeared and shyly smiled at Monty. “H-hi Monty.” The animatronic nodded at him. He looked around expecting Freddy or at least Chica to watch him but none of the gang were around. He swore to himself that he’ll get her back for that.

He felt kind of out of place. When he did interact with Gregory it was very awkward as he would usually hide behind the bear animatronic or hide his face when he is holding him in his brawn arms. It was as if the kid was intimidated by him, which was no doubt in his head. Like he was going to eat him or something. Which was, in his opinion, was impossible as he had no way of swallowing no less chewing anything. Biting, sure. But that’s all he could do. He rubbed his snout and groaned as he felt his gears grind and the pain shot up his left arm. 

Gregory noticed and asked if he was ok. “Just tired kid,” he responds. He rolled his shoulders and placed his golf club back into his golf club pack. When his back was turned he felt something grab onto his tail. He jerked and turned around to see him holding his tail. Actually his was very close to him and tried holding his tail for comfort. He wondered why he was clinging to him only to hear shifting gears and what sounded like metallic laughter. He immediately knew who it was. “Son of a bitch.” He murmured. Looking at the green room entrance to see a thin, jester like animatronic. It’s fabric colors consisted of dark shades of blue and had golden stars plastered on its body. Its face plate was in the shape of a crescent moon. Along with bright red eyes. A huge grin plastered on its face. “Hiya Gregory,” it cheered. The animatronic was named Moondrop. 

“What ya want? I am in no mood for your games.” The moon animatronic giggled and said “I know, I just came to say hello~” He crept closer to Gregory in a slow playful manner. But to Gregory it was down right scary! He clung closer to Monty and tried to hide from him. Unknowingly Monty wrapped his tail around the boy and help him close. “Not in the mood, and while your at it,” He squares his shoulders to seem more intimidating. “Don’t try to pull any pranks.” “I wasn’t. Tiiiiiillllllll NOW!” Monty felt something tug at him as Gregory was snagged from tail and taken out of the green room by the sun animatronic Sunnyrise. “Hey!” He yelled as chased after them. “Monty! Help!” Sunnyrise was slightly bigger than Moondrop and carried him with slight ease. 

They jumped from metal beam to pipeline making sure his balance was on point. “Freddy!” He cried. Hoping the bear animatronic would hear him and come save him. He tried to struggle and get out of the sun animatronic’s grip but as thin as it appeared to be, it was stronger than it originally looked. “Put me down! Please!” He begged. “In a minute, lets mess with gator boy for a bit!” The sun animatronic laughed in response to Moondrop’s answer to the boy’s plea. 

He felt a bit nauseous from the frantic movements before he landed on something soft. He realized it was a pillow. A large pile of them actually. Mainly consisting of two types of styles, moon and stars, sun and clouds. The duo jumped down in front of him and the boy began to whimper as he tried to back away from them. Although no longer controlled by Vanny or that Glitchtrap character, that didn’t mean he felt comfortable with them. “MOONDROP! SUNNYRISE! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!? BRING THE KID BACK NOW! I MEAN IT!” He hoped that he would come to find him. He heard another voice along with Monty’s. It was Chica’s voice, “Gregory? Where are you sugar dot?” 

Gregory called out to them as he heard low growls. He heard what sounded like clanging on metal to see Monty climbing the ramp the three were on. “Monty be careful!” Chica shouted after him as she is afraid that he or Gregory would get hurt. “Coming up!” He shouted. Sunnyrise and Moondrop laughed comically and abandoned ship. “W-what the- get back here!” He reached out to snag at least one of them but they were too far out of reach. “Damn!” He looked over to Gregory. “You good?” The boy nodded. He tried to pull him over the ledge as he was, although won’t admit it, scared to fall. He hated high heights. Gregory came closer to him and grabbed his right arm to pull him up. But being an animatronic made of dense metal it wasn’t an easy task. “Don’t strain ya self kid. I’m toov heavy for ya to pull.” 

Gregory didn’t listen and kept pulling as Monty pulled himself up. Gusts of air seeping through the cracks of his metal plates. “Monty? Gregory? You boys alright?” “We’re ok.” Gregory answered. Tired from his attempts to pull Monty. “Can you get down?” “You for real? It was a hassle for me to get up here! I doubt I can climb down, no less with the kid on my back! Screw that shit!” He can hear Chica shouting angrily “Language!” Monty rolled his eyes and sighed. Falling backwards and laying his back on the pillows Gregory didn’t say anything and hid a small smile in the form of a yawn. He was actually tired. He was hanging out with Roxanne as Freddy was busy and Chica was helping him. He wanted to ask him about them having dreams or better yet nightmares but didn’t how to phrase it. He asked Roxanne and she told him she would dream sometimes but didn’t give thorough details.

“H-hey Monty?” “Yeah kid?” He thought for a minute before saying “Can you dream? Or have nightmares?” Monty sat up and looked at him. A confused expression or so it seems, appeared on his face plates. “Why ya asking?” Gregory’s face said it all. “You had a nightmare? Is that why you’re asking? What does it have to do with us?” The boy shyly nodded. Gregory fiddled with his shoelaces and said in a low tone “It was about you.” It would be an exaggeration to say that his jaw dropped. It was about him? He had a nightmare about him? Why? “Monty! Gregory! I’ll be back with help! Don’t do anything!” 

Chica’s voice was drowned out by the awkward silence between them. He didn’t know what to say. He thought about his restless nights after the incident. The feeling of his body being controlled by a living virus. He was still there but as a passenger and watched in horror in what happened and he attempted to do. Especially to the boy. He couldn’t stop himself no matter how much he fought for control. He could hear its taunts and demonic laughter as it held him as a host till its body was complete. It still scares him. “Yeah Gregory, we...we can dream....we also have....bad dreams you could say.” The boy looked at him stunned. “You can? I asked Roxy about it and she said she would get strange dreams but didn’t explain much to me.” Monty nodded. 

“Well I wouldn’t say they are dreams...more like processed memories. Mainly what we experienced during the day and they are placed in our processors. Mainly to replay like a movie.” “So its a movie in your head?” “Hell if I know, its a guess of mine. There were even times I get weird dreams like I don’t know, like a large chicken chasing me around and pecking at me for cursing. I didn’t even think it was possible as...well...I am a machine.” Gregory giggled. “Was the large chicken Chica?” “Maybe~” He laughed. “But in all seriousness, what was your nightmare about? Why me?” Gregory took a deep breath, he won’t hurt you. He told him what he remembered. From playing golf together to Vanny possessing him with the malware and him killing him by biting down on his head. Monty stared horrified. “That’s your nightmare?” The boy nodded. Not looking up. 

“I...I didn’t realize. Jesus kid, that must’ve been scary for ya. Can’t imagine how that would’ve felt for ya.” “After that nightmare, I wanted to know if you had nightmares yourself, since you seem so...so...” “Sentient?” “Uh...I guess so.” “The gang and I even have bad dreams ourselves. I don’t understand the reasoning for it but it does happen. Sometimes its scary and we’ll forget about it as there isn’t much to it y’know. Just a fluke dream, but some are more horrifying than expected. So terrifying that even I can’t sleep.” “Monty? Do you have bad dreams and refuse to sleep? I did that when I came home...that day... I didn’t want to sleep as I was afraid to see Vanny and Glitchtrap laughing at me and taunt me, and having images of...what they did.” He shivered due to the cold and the sickening feeling of dread. He knew that feeling all too well. 

Monty noticed and grabbed a blanket he was sitting on. He guessed Gregory never saw it as he was distracted by the twins. Well since bearball isn’t here and Chica isn’t here...I’ll try to comfort him till they come by and get us down. I hope they don’t see this. He reached out his tail and wrapped it around the boy’s waist and wrapped him up in the blanket and held him in his lap. Gregory was confused and looked up at him. “I know kid. It’s not easy to confront or deal with. What happened was traumatizing for you and us. I wouldn’t blame you having nightmares after that day.” Gregory reached out and hugged the gator around his neck and nuzzled his lower jaw. “I don’t blame you either. I bet you were scared too. And I remember what Freddy told me about you all being family.” Monty was stunned. The child was actually hugging him. The one kid who was intimidated by him, was hugging him. “He did huh?” “He said I was a part of that family too. Which means that I would consider you as an older brother, Roxy an older sister, Chica and Freddy as the mom and dad.” “Well,” He ruffled his hair making his chuckle. “I guess you are our little brother eh?” 

Line Break:

Chica and Freddy managed to get Vanessa to grab the ladder from storage to help the two get down. Well, mainly Monty as they would just get Sunnyrise or Moondrop to grab Gregory and set him down nicely. “Are they alright?” Freddy shrugged. “Have you seen the twins?” he asked. She nodded no. “Nope, not after Monty chased after them.” Vanessa set the ladder and made sure it was stable. “Well wherever they are, they might get their due later.” “Gregors? Monty? You guys ok?” Roxy looked towards the platform but didn’t see anything. 

Vanessa told Freddy to hold the ladder and climbed up. “Be safe, the twins might be around to scare you.” Roxy said. “God I hope not!” Vanessa shouted down to her. When she reached the ledge, she had to hold back a laugh. Right in front of her was something she never thought she’ll ever see. It was Montgomery Gator, the big, tough brute of the group cuddling little Gregory. He was wrapped up in the big arms of the animatronic and she could’ve swore that his tail was wagging slowly. “Oh! This is adorable!” Gregory was wrapped in a blanket and his head was nestled under Monty’s chin. She reached out and took out her phone. Making sure the flash was off and taking a picture of the duo before coming down to show the others. Who would’ve known that the big gator was a huge softy sometimes? Was he going to kill for it? Maybe? Was it worth it? Oh yes it was!

[outofsstyles]

AU | Famous!Reader x Fashion student!Harry

☁️ FIC PAGE ☁️ PART 1 ☁️

word count: 20.3k

warnings: language

//

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross your heart, won't tell no other

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

- Seven, Taylor Swift

//

“Can you bend your arms one last time, please?” Harry quickly angles his arms, holding them at chest height to show Marcus what he’s referring to.

He stands in front of Harry, dressed in his full Gaston outfit for the last fitting before opening night. The atelier has gone hectic again now that everyone’s gotten back from their lunch breaks, a mess of fabrics and papers taking over every surface in the room. There’s a low mesh of voices blending with Moyra’s playlist playing on a speaker that’s probably lost somewhere by now. Someone rushes across the room in a speed walk and almost bumps into Harry, muttering a quick apology before disappearing behind the doors leading to storage. 

As the week approached, Harry was warned by pretty much every single one of his coworkers about the chaos that it would be. After all, it’s the last week of rehearsals, and the first time the actors would get in characters with their full costumes. All arrangements have to be done by Saturday morning, is what Lisa said with her stern voice the previous Friday, with no space for wardrobe malfunctions. She meant it as a warning, but Harry took it as motivation, knowing he works better under stressful situations — which is not the healthiest working ethic, he admits, but it gets the job done.

On top of it all, your unprompted visit has surprisingly given him the boost he needed to finish up most of his work with an entire day to spare. 

It’s only been two days since you appeared on his front door with a Brit statuette and a promise to make up for the years lost in each other’s lives. Your suggestion to go out for a coffee quickly showed itself to be a bit more complicated than both of you thought it would; as neither of you expected the conflict in your schedules when making those plans. This was a busy week for Harry and an even busier opening weekend. The only time he’ll actually be able to catch a breather is by Monday, which, coincidentally, is the same day you’re catching a flight back to America.

Still, none of you seemed to want to wait another week to meet again. So he proposed to meet after his Friday shift. Which is why he spent the entirety of Thursday inside the costume studio, being the last one to leave just so he could wrap everything a few hours early to meet you back at his flat — by your request.

Even with a day cut short, however, there’s been barely enough time for him to focus on anything other than measurements and fittings. It’s a good thing when it comes to his nerves; the tight schedule giving him no space to let any butterfly drift on his belly. Without the anxiousness on the way and work to keep himself busy, it’s as if the clock has gone with a leap. He sewed back details that had fallen off an extra’s costume while swallowing back the salad he’d brought for lunch, made sure Lumiere’s candleholders were fixed in place, and that no feathers from Plumette would sweep around the stage. Now, after having to make an adjustment to Gaston’s shirt - thanks to an unexpected problem with the stitching - he’s finally able to allow his shoulders to relax a bit.

Marcus mimics the movement shown to him, keeping his arms still as Harry takes a step to examine the character’s signature red shirt with his fingers fiddling with the tip of the measuring tape hanging around his shoulders.

“Does it still feel tight around your chest?” Harry asks, noting how the stitching on the sides is not stretching anymore. “Or under your arms?”

“Nope,” Marcus answers with a pop, relaxing his arms back down when Harry turns to write something down. “Fits like a glove, mate.”

He clicks his pen down on the table. “Then we’re all good.” 

“So, I’m free to go?” He jumps down from the platform, loosening the black leather belt that’s fastened around his waist.

“You’re free to go,” Harry confirms after a double-check at the file sitting on the table, making sure there’s no other change that’s needed on his costume. “Just put everything back in the bag and hang it on the rack.”

“Yes, sir.” Marcus shifts with the curtains of the changing room before disappearing inside of it.

“And make sure the label is still stuck to it!” Harry calls over his shoulder, listening to the mumbled response before turning back to the files on his hands. 

While he waits for Marcus to return, he gathers everything he needs to leave. A quick look at his phone that was left forgotten on top of a roll of blue-dyed camel tells him it’s around four, meaning he’s just in time. Checking the pages he’s been focusing on, Harry walks to the rack, selecting the two bags carrying the costumes he still needs to make adjustments on, placing them carefully over his work table before making his way to fetch his backpack.

As soon as Marcus is out, he gives a double check to see if the label is still stuck to the bag he just hanged - not entirely trusting the cast’s attention to those details - before collecting his belongings and heading for the door. He bids his goodbyes on his way out, catching the attention of Alice, who’s standing on a platform near the door while Moyra works on the skirt of her yellow dress with a few pins placed between her lips.

“Going already, H?” She asks, her eyes big as she looks down at him.

He stops in his tracks with a hand on the door handle gnawing on his inner cheek as he turns to face her. 

As soon as he meets her gaze, he notices the subtle tinge of pink painting over her cheekbones. It’s something that Harry’s gotten used to by now when speaking with Alice. 

He could tell she was shy from the moment he got to meet the entire cast, always standing quietly to the side reading her script, keeping her chats restricted to the same two people (which is funny enough of a contrast with her stage persona, considering she has the main role). But with Harry, she’s always been especially timid, and it didn’t take too long for him to learn from Moyra that the girl had taken a fancy on him — if the blushing wasn’t a big indicator.

It’s sweet, he reckons. She’s lovely enough, from the limited amount of conversations they had, and Harry finds it that maybe if she opened up a bit it would be nice to get to know her. Julia’s the one that always pesters him about it, though urging for Harry to make a move from the moment he told her about the girl’s crush on him. She says his romantic side gets especially annoying when he’s lonely, and he knows she’s right, but would never admit it to her face. So he just brushes it off, saying he’ll take the time to talk to Alice.

Except now. Harry knows he’s on the clock if he wants to make it in time to meet you. The last thing he wants is for you to have to stand on the street because he got caught up in her mutters. 

So he keeps his grip on the handle, hoping it’s enough of a hint for the conversation to be cut short, as he motions his arm that holds the clothes’ bags at the crook of his elbow. “Yeah, I- Lisa let me work on these at home.”

“So you’re not having a drink with us tonight?” Alice rushes out, eyes darting up at him, and her blush gets a shade stronger. When her lips part again, her voice comes out a bit lower,  “It’s the last one before opening night, and you haven’t gone in a while...”

“Harry’s too cool to hang out with us.” Moyra barges in the conversation, glancing teasingly at Harry from over her shoulder as she takes the last pin from between her lips.

“Shut up, Mo.” He rolls her eyes slightly, grip tightening on the door as he prepares to leave.

Before he can do so, Alice speaks up, her eyes falling again to her fingers that poke at her nails. “You know, bringing work home sometimes can cause stress… And stuff.” She peeks up at Harry, shrugging slightly. “I read about it somewhere, anyway.”

“I think I’ll be fine, really, but thanks.” Turning the knob, he cracks open the door.  “Just got something today.”

Moyra doesn’t waste a second before blurting, “A date.”

“Don’t.” He warns with a sigh. “I’m seeing an old friend.”

“That’s nice.” Alice nods.

“Yeah.” He takes a step out, being painfully aware of how he’s a second away from being late. “Uhm, I gotta get going then.”

The girl looks up at him fully then, giving a small wave. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, yeah, for sure.” He calls over his shoulder as he’s out the door.

The tube’s just starting to get filled again with people like Harry, who are likely on their journey back home. Shoulders tense and frowns scrunching their faces, they barely pay any mind to him as he finds a spot opposite to the exit doors — preferring to stay closer to them as to get off quicker. He leans against one of the many metal rails that outline the inside of the train car, his vans bouncing nervously as he adjusts the bags at the crook of his elbow, feeling as if today it’s traveling slower than usual. 

Picking up his phone to check the time once again, he’s met with a text. It’s not from you, as he’d hoped, but from Julia. A picture of her and Blake, faces squished together as they force a smile a bit too big for the camera, their hairs meshing together in a mix - Julia’s darker curls tangling with Blake’s shorter blonde locks - and Harry can just about make out the outline of a bright orange sofa from Blake’s living room behind them. The message that reads under it is short, yet playfully demanding.

Juls: impromptu movie night!!! bring chocolate!!!

He smiles down at the screen, but it quickly turns into a frown as he realizes that he won’t be able to make it. Biting down his bottom lip, his thumb hovers above the keyboard, not sure how to respond. There’s not a chance he can fully tell the truth to her, not over text. Even if he brushes over it, he knows his friend, and how nosy she can be sometimes — which has never bothered him before until he found himself in this position. He contemplates lying. A white one, there is. Just say he got caught up with work or something along those lies. Something he knows she’d understand. But the simple thought of it makes him feel guilty; as if he’s leaving her out.

So, he opts for the ladder, pushing the responsibility for his future self to deal with the interrogation afterwards when he sees her again. Maybe if he finishes the tv show she’s been nagging him to watch in time, it’ll be enough of a distraction so she won’t ask him many questions. His answer comes a bit slower than usual — not only due to his internal battle but also for finding it a bit tricky to type with one hand. By the time he clicks the send button, Julia has already sent enough interrogation points to cover half of the screen.

Can’t tonighttt got something...

Juls: what’s something

I’ll tell you later, send Blake a hug for me.

Juls: no :(

With a chuckle, he pockets his phone,  noticing he’s just a couple of steps away from his own. Once he’s out of the station, just a couple blocks away from his building, the bundle of nerves he’s been avoiding all day sweeps in. They’re not overwhelming, they don’t make his chest tighten or his palms sweat, no. They’re the nerves that give him a spring to his step, that make him take deeper breaths, and that speed his heart just the tiniest bit.

It’s a strange feeling to be going home with the sky still shining a clear blue, instead of the purple-pink that comes just before the sun hugs the horizon. A cloudless day. Thanks to the previous streak of rainfalls that washed away the angry greys. The colors painting his surroundings seem somehow more vibrant, more welcoming. The greens of the trees greet him with a gentle breeze. The maroons of the bricked buildings warm under the sunlight. Even the yellow and the pink of his dirty vans feel a bit brighter as he strolls around the corner of his block.

It’s almost like it matches the way he feels. And Harry knows that from now on, with spring at its peak and summer becoming more present, the weather is bound to become even more pleasant. He hopes it’s some sort of sign. Maybe the universe is getting gentler with him. He’d like to think that.

Part of him still dwells on the feeling the slightest bit, finding a strange sort of uncertainty over how quickly you’ve got at the palm of your hand again. He barely got any sleep after you left his house just thinking about it, actually. There’s no denying that your presence again has brought back the fondest memories of his teenage years. Ones he tried too hard to bury as to ease the ache in his heart that came with them for a long time. But now, having you back, it’s as if they’ve taken almost a hopeful feeling. The reminders of how close you used to be came crashing into him like a wave, enveloping him. That was the first time he ever opened up so fully to someone, after all. And that comfort of having someone that knows him better than he knows himself is something he craves so deeply within himself that, as soon as even the slimmest possibility of having it once again presented itself, he grasped it so quickly that now he’s afraid he’s letting himself dive too deep.

He’s so inside of his head, thoughts rushing inside his mind, that he almost glances over you when he finally approaches his building. 

Paying little to no mind to your cream trousers as you kneel on the sidewalk, a paper bag propped under your arm and a disposable cup holder in your hand hugging two paper cups, you focus on a collie that’s enjoying your hand caressing the fur down its neck. A gold pendant from your necklace reflects the weak rays of sunlight, glowing in a contrast with the black of the short-sleeved turtleneck you’re wearing, tucked under your trousers. 

It’s only when he lets his eyes focus on the company you have that he immediately recognizes the pup, as well as the older lady holding the leash while smiling down at you interacting with her pet.  

Margaret is one of the oldest residents of the building, taking a permanent spot at the very first apartment on the first floor. She was the first neighbor he got to meet, bringing him homemade jelly tarts on his first weekend at his apartment. They chatted for an afternoon and, after admitting he’s not the best cook, she vowed to bring him some of her dishes every time she could. And true to her world, around twice a week she knocks on his door with a warm trail and a sweet smile. Harry likes to visit her as often as he can, knowing she lost her husband a few years before he moved, and has no children to keep her company — that is, apart from her collie, Duchess.

“Harry!” Margaret is the first to acknowledge him with a grin, her voice causing your head to snap up from where you kneel. “You’re early today, my love.”

“Actually, I’m a bit late.” He chuckles, glancing at where you’re standing up while sweeping your trousers. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh! No worries, I just got here.” You brush it off, finding a place next to him before gazing back at Margaret. The older lady attempts to look discreetly between the two of you, brows arched, and Harry knows from the look in her eyes he’ll probably have to face another interrogation later on. Though, in this case, he’s sure she’s oblivious of your public image. “And, thankfully, I bumped into these lovely ladies who kept me company.”

“Stop that! You’re a very lovely lady yourself, darling.” Margaret reaches for Harry’s wrist as she smiles at you, giving it a squeeze, and he quickly nods, agreeing with her. She looks up at him, lips tight in a grin that’s enough for him to realize her assumptions about why you’re here, and, from the way you’re holding back a laugh yourself, he’s sure you’ve noticed, too. He clears his throat, gazing down at his shoes, trying to cover up the warmth that creeps up his neck, and that seems to be enough for Margaret to take a hint, letting his wrist go with another gentle squeeze. “I’ll leave you two be, Duchess and I still have to grab groceries before it gets dark.”

Harry scratches his nose in a nervous tick. “‘Ave a good day, Marg.”

“You too, Lovie.” She gives his hip a soft pinch before turning to you. “It was lovely meeting you.”

“Right back at you!” You answer excitedly, waving back as the older lady starts her stroll. “Have a nice walk! Bye, Duchess.”

For a second, you quietly watch the duo walk further away from where you stand. A faint hum of car engines can be heard, being cut only by the high-pitched voices of two children, seeming not much older than ten, as they appear at the other side of the street. The peek over your shoulder is quick before you turn your back to them, turning fully to Harry with a slight smile tugging at the side of your lips. 

He clears his throat again, adjusting the bags he’s still holding. “Hi.” 

“Hey.” You answer in a beat, nodding towards him. “Your hair is down.”

“It is, yeah.” His voice comes lower than he intended, the warmth still present on his cheeks, and he quickly motions towards the front door. While fiddling with the side pocket of his backpack in search of his keys, he picks up as you lean into the bricked wall next to the entrance.

“It looks great, really! Wasn’t expecting it to be this long.”

“Yea, I- Thanks.” He shoots you a look once he fetches the keys. “Have been growing it out for a few months now.”

You give him a knowing hum. “Any reason for it?”

The click of your boots against the wooden steps echoes around the narrow walls of the building’s staircase. Harry leads the way up, climbing the steps in a bit of an awkward position as he tries to look back at you.“Uh, not really, no.”  He shrugs. “Just having fun with it, I guess.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be!” You exclaim. “It really compliments you, I mean it.”

“Thank you.” He rubs his nose, coming to a stop as both of you reach his front door. “You- Uh, I- You look very nice, as well.”

“Oh!” You look down at your outfit with a chuckle. “I rarely go around this fancy, but I had a meeting today.” You brush it off. “Which is also not an excuse for me to dress up but I didn’t know most people there so I had to make a good impression, or whatever.”

A dimple pokes at his cheek as you ramble, a habit you seem to haven’t lost. He unlocks the door with ease, pushing it in and motioning for you to walk in. “‘S nice, very pretty, I- I mean, your trousers are very pretty.”

Your smile grows as you support yourself on the wall while toeing off your shoes. If you notice the blush on his cheeks, you don’t mention it. “Thank you! Means a lot coming from you, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’re the fashion student, after all.” He’s not sure why your answer comes in a bit of a letdown, almost as if he was expecting you to say something else. “By the way, I got us some goodies on the way. Didn’t know how you like your coffee, so I just took a wild guess. Here, try it— If you don’t like it you can have mine, it’s a cappuccino, very sweet.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, watching for his reaction as he sips on the hot beverage. “So...?”

“It’s perfect.” He takes another small sip of the cup you handed to him, trying not to make a face at the slightly bitter taste that comes with it (he’s still not the biggest coffee fan, if he’s honest). He makes his way to lay the bags that now have slid down his elbow at the arm of the couch. Noticing you’re still standing awkwardly by the front door looking around, he points at the counter next to him, quickly sweeping his arm over it to brush the stack of papers to the side.  “You can set everything in here, please feel at home.”

This is the first time you properly get to have a look around his place, which is weird enough of a concept when you take into consideration it’s not the first time you’ve come here (and the flash memory of that night alone is enough for you to fight back a cringe). You recall the path to your right leading towards the bathroom where you spent an hour sitting inside his bathtub before having to answer a not-very-pleased Sonia calling your phone. The rest of the place, however, is a bit of a blur in your memory, so you take this moment to take in his home.

Surely, the space itself is quite modest, but it doesn’t mean there’s not a lot to take in. From your position across from him, the island separating the two of you, you can still scan most of his living room. 

You like that it’s not completely tidy (those sorts of crystal clean homes always freak you out a bit). Upon a first glance, it’s clearly the residence of an undergrad. A couple textbooks pile on top of a center table. A shut laptop sitting next to the cushions on the navy blue couch. Even a few houseplants amongst picture frames spread on shelves and stands. It’s cute, you think, but you barely sweep your eyes over those details.

What calls your attention are the glimpses of the life you’ve missed on. It’s the magazines decorated with sticky notes. It’s the rolls of fabric peeking out from the couch arm. It’s a box of yarn tucked in the far corner, on top of other boxes that are shut closed. Those details seem to have replaced his canvases and paint sets. It makes you wonder if he still keeps them hidden somewhere. If there’s still anything left of the life he had the last time you saw him. 

Oddly enough, you smile at the thought. Somehow glad that he found his passion, even if you weren’t there to support him through it. And it brings you back to why you’re here in the first place. Make up for the lost time.

“Thank you for agreeing to do this here.” You speak up as you focus back on taking the sweets you so carefully picked out from inside the bag (you weren’t entirely sure of his dessert preferences now, which caused the slightest rise of panic as you tried to decide on what to pick from the vast array of options). “I know it’s weird to ask you to, like, have me at your house instead of just meeting at a cafe, but the one I usually go to is closed for renovations and I get a bit wary at, uh, public places.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind having you here.” A small grin tugs at his lips, and it’s hard for you to ignore the warmth that comes to you with it. 

You clap your hands together, gazing around quickly before focusing back on him. “So! I finally get to properly see your place— sorry about that the other night, by the way, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He chuckles. “It’s really okay, like I said, don’t mind having you here.” He repeats, clearing his throat. “It’s, uh, not that big but-”

“I love it, seems so cozy.” You interrupt before he can go on any further, hating the way he feels the need to apologize to you for something like the size of his home. “And it’s a perfect place to have just for yourself.”

“Actually, I-” His lips stay apart for half a second before he continues, blurting the next words out as if it’s a confession, “I have a flatmate.”

“Oh!” You blink in surprise, taking a second to process the information. 

Of course he does. Why did you even think otherwise? Most people share flats these days. Despite that, the possibility of him living with someone didn’t even cross your mind. It’s hard to ignore when it comes to you the riskiness of it. Whoever this flatmate is, you don’t know them, and the possibility of them spilling anything makes you a tad uneasy. It could easily ruin any possibility of a friendship with Harry before you can even get close to him again. 

There’s a wave of anxiety that hits you with the prospect of being the cause of his face printed on the cover of money-hungry tabloids, but, before you get deeper in your own nerves than you already have, you sum what’s left of composure within you to ask,  “Do they... Have you told them about-- well, me?”

He tears up a piece of banana bread, picking at it as he shakes his head, clearly unaware of your change in moods. “Not, really. She’s at her girlfriend’s for the week, so I haven’t been able to see her.”

You try to hide the way your eyes widen the slightest bit with the information that said flatmate is a she. “Is she a fashion student as well?”

“No, she’s a journalist. She works— well, interns for a music magazine, actually.”

Of course she’s a fucking journalist. When you think it couldn’t get any worse. “Anything that would ring a bell?”

“I don’t think so, they’re quite small.” He shrugs, sipping at his coffee.  “Don’t even have an office, they do most of the work online.”

“That’s interesting.” You nod, nails picking at a few crumbs dotted around the counter. Scrunching your lips, you try to consider how to word what you’re about to say. Knowing this conversation would have to be brought up eventually doesn’t make it any less awkward for you to have it. You peek up at him from under your lashes, only to find his oblivious state as he smiles back at you. “Harry… Can I ask you for a favour?” 

“Course.”

Inhaling deeply, you attempt not to let your voice come out as calculated as the words that roll out of your lips are. “Could you… Just for a bit, not mention anything about me to her?”

Harry’s expression falls to a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Just--” You pause, resting your cup down before turning to face him fully. “Just for a little while, I-- You have to understand that I would like to be a bit more private… About us?”

“Us?”

“Our friendship… I-” There it is again, the gust of panic. It makes you spit out the words before you can even process them,  “I wouldn’t want any headlines.” 

This only seems to worsen everything it seems, as Harry sits back on his stool, putting more space between you two. He shakes his head, “Julia would never do that.”

“I’m sure she wouldn't!” You rush, attempting to fix it. “It’s just… She could mention it to someone, and-- I don’t know, these things get out of hand really fast.” 

“So you want me to lie to her?”

“Not lie.” You chew at your bottom lip, sure that you’re a word away from getting kicked out. “Just, not to mention it… Just for a little while, it’s not like it can be a secret forever.”

“Right.” He slowly starts to nod, falling quiet for a beat too long. “Sure, yeah, okay.”

You exhale in relief, softening your expression. “Thank you.”

A silence falls between the two of you and, for the first time since your reconnection, it’s not much of a comfortable one. You have to swallow back the guilt that threatens to take over, knowing the awkwardness is mainly your fault for dealing with your request in such an awful way. Of course, you would have to have the privacy talk with Harry eventually, ideally being sooner rather than later. But asking him to lie and insinuating that his friend could use you to sell her magazine is most certainly the worst way you could’ve chosen to go about it. And there’s nothing to stop yourself from feeling completely stupid while picking at the brownie in front of you.

There’s a part of you, one that comes a bit louder now, that ponders if even bother continuing this in the first place; if it wouldn’t be better to spare him the burden that the simple association with you will bring into his life. You know it would be easier, better for him even, if you just collect your stuff now and walk out the door to never contact him again. If you excused this meeting as a lapse of rationality on your part. And just like that, you could let him go on with his regular life, having to come to terms with him painting a picture of you as another arrogant celebrity that just toyed with him for a bit before she got bored. It would hurt, sure, but this part of you tries to reason that it’s the best you could do for him.

Another part, though, a more selfish one that is, can’t bear the thought of standing up from your stool and just simply turn your back to this as if it never happened. No, you can’t bring yourself to do that. Not when meeting Harry again has brought you a sense of comfort you hadn’t even realized you’ve been lacking for months now. Not when he feels like the only person who doesn’t have an image of you shadowed by this big bright monster of fame — one that calls everyone’s attention before they can even take a proper look at you. You know he doesn’t need that, because of all the versions you present of yourself, he’s one of the few people that know which is the real one. 

This part of you makes you act thoughtlessly, letting your emotions speak louder than your brain. It makes you want to follow the immediate sense of relief that comes in knowing there’s no need to change anything to fit an imaginary narrative someone has made of you. There’s no need to do that with Harry. You’re so desperate to keep that ease that comes with being in his presence, that any thought of how it’ll eventually come crashing down on you is pushed to the back of your mind.

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you risk a glance up at him. To your relief, there’s not a crease between his brows like you expected. He doesn’t seem upset about your question anymore, his shoulders relaxed while he focuses on tearing a piece of the banana bread and shoving it into his mouth. The realization makes you straighten your posture, a sudden rush of determination flushing through your body. You’ve come here to get to know him again, and you’re not letting a poor start weigh you down. And, as your gaze falls to the costume bags lying across the couch arm behind him, an inquiry that has been floating through your mind comes back to you.

“So…” You clear your throat, leaning your elbow to rest on top of the counter as you rest your chin on your palm. Harry’s eyes shoot up at you, and you grin a bit as you point to the spot behind him. “Are you going to tell me a bit about that?”

His brows frown for a second as he looks back, finding the bags that called your attention from the moment you saw him on the sidewalk.  “What would you like to know?”

“Well, last time we spoke you were talking about working in a gallery.” You circle your cup in your hand, bringing it up to your lips but not yet taking a sip.  “And now, I have the information that you dropped out just a wee after; how did that happen?”

"It took a while for it to happen, actually.”  He crosses his arms on top of the counter, leaning in slightly. “Dunno if you remember but, uhm… This might be a bit awkward.”

Your brows raise towards your hairline, his words only enhancing your curiosity. “It’s okay, whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”

“I don’t mind it, just- well, after we broke up,” He starts, clearing his throat as his gaze searches for yours, eyes flickering between your own in search of a reaction. He was right. This is awkward. You try to remain a calm expression, nodding in encouragement for him to continue — although you want nothing more than to flinch at the words. “I was, uh, well, sad.” He lets out a quick chuckle. “A friend of mine- James, dunno if you remember them- they recommended a knitting group class kinda thing that they were in every Wednesday, told me it was quite therapeutic and calming, and stuff.”

“That’s cute.” You comment, trying to brush off the way your chest tightens at the brief mention of his feelings post-breakup, knowing how hard it was for both of you.

He smiles at you before continuing, “Got the hang of it pretty fast, actually. James was right being therapeutic. After a bit, I started going twice a week.” He reaches to brush his fingers over a napkin. You watch as his fingertips slide gently along its edge. “The lady that taught it, Laura- you’d ‘ve loved her, used to bake us biscuits every week. She had graduated in fashion, actually owned a boutique for a good fifty years.”

“Holy shit,” Your lips part in awe. “Can you imagine doing something for that long?”

“‘S exactly what got me thinking.” He peeks up at you, lips twitching up. “Around that time I was so confused about what to do with an art degree, and I realized it wasn’t really something I saw myself doing for decades on end.” 

Understanding, you give him a warm smile, toying with the lid of your cup as to not reach for his hand. Even though you weren’t around anymore at the time the events he’s describing took place, you still remember how confused he was right from the start. Harry’s always had an artist in him, and that’s something that wasn’t hard for anyone to see, but it was clear then how he wasn’t completely satisfied with his path. Back then, before you two parted ways, you recall thinking he was still adjusting with uni, and that eventually, he’d find his passion within the arts. It never occurred to you he might not be in the field he loved, after all. 

Looking back at it now, it makes sense.

“Laura helped me a lot during that time. She was the one that even introduced fashion as a possibility for me, we would talk for hours.” It’s hard to miss the fond smile that tugs his lips at the memory. “She even started inviting me for a cuppa outside of class hours, answer all my questions- even the stupid ones, she was really patient. Was almost like a mentor of sorts.” 

“She sounds like an awesome human.” Your voice is gentle, admiring how the words come out of him with an admiration that makes you warm all over.

“She was.” His eyes fall to his hands. Your expression softens, suddenly noticing how he’s been using the past tense when talking about her. “She told me once that sometimes making a career out of a hobby is not always the way to go, you know? Takes away the fun of it if you feel obligated to do it. It was then when I decided to switch.”

“Were you scared?” 

“Terrified.” You two laugh. “I was choosing a path that I’d never even considered before. It was so new, I was so scared I wasn’t making the right decision. It scared me that maybe fashion wasn’t also my thing, you know? Cause if it wasn’t, then what?”

“I get that.” You risk resting your hand next to his, sticking your pinky out to brush against his. He quickly interlaced them, smiling down at the gesture. “I’m glad it worked out, and you found something you’re passionate about.”

“Me too.” He replies, mimicking your position as he brings the hand that’s not enlaced with yours to rest under his cheek.

You smile, and he smiles, too.  

//

“Why can’t we just stay in tonight?”

The question leaves your lips in almost an annoyed huff. The third one in the last five minutes. Aya doesn’t spare you a glance this time, her eyes focusing solely on sweeping the white eyeliner over her eyelid as she finishes the last few touches of her makeup.

Her apartment is lit up with a golden glow, the lights having been lowered and the flame of a couple of green lavender candles helping set the relaxing energy of the room. It’s the primary reason you love staying at Aya’s; her place is always cozy, no matter which house of hers you’re in (even though you have a softer spot for her New York apartment). And it helps to have company, since your place has been uneasily empty lately. 

The original plan was simple: make dinner while catching up with the last Game of Thrones season. You’ve been looking forward to it all week. After days of hopping from long meetings to recording sessions, only to go home to your cold bed, reuniting with Aya was the one thing that kept you from catching the first flight back to London as soon as your errands were dealt with. So, it’s hard not to express your disappointment about having to attend some dinner party a good thirty minutes away from her warm apartment.

The thing is, the suggestion didn’t even come from Aya, but rather a surprise guest you weren’t even expecting to be here at the same time as you, Claire. 

And it’s not like you don’t like Claire, you do, well, you try to, which is the best you can do for now. She's been friends with Aya for a couple of months and, with Aya, it’s not that hard to become friends with her, if you’re honest. So you never really bother to keep track of the ones that come and go as quick as the pendulum of a clock. It’s something you’ve grown used to with the years of friendship. But unlike most of them, Claire seems to have stuck like an annoying piece of gum at the bottom of your boots.

In reality, you know it’s unfair to her to be annoyed when she’s really done nothing wrong. The sole reason for you two not mashing that well is more of a conflict in personalities than anything else. Usually, you manage to ignore that in order to keep at least somewhat of a friendly relationship with her during nights out -- more for Aya’s sake than yours. And sometimes you even enjoy her presence! When she’s not surrounded by big groups of people  (rare) and doesn’t feel the need to be obnoxiously loud for no reason, at those times when it’s just the three of you, she’s actually quite nice to talk to.

But now, you honestly wish you could glue her lips together and quite literally kick her out the front door. As she rushes around the place, - from the walk-in closet to the bathroom to the bedroom and so on - her voice so loud in attempts to speak over the playlist she put on just over two hours ago. The mesh of noises is so much you’d be sure no one heard your complaint if it wasn’t for Aya’s reply just a minute later.

“We stay in every day.” You watch as she bends over the sink, getting closer to the mirrored wall as she applies her lipstick carefully. With a smack of her lips, her eyes meet yours in the reflection. “I think it’d be good for you to go out.”

“Just two months ago you were complaining about how much I go out, and now you complain that I don’t go out enough?” You arch your brows, fully aware of how whiny you sound.

“Well, not my fault you don’t know how to balance your social life.” She focuses back on herself, opening a product you can’t make out what it is and tapping it against her cheekbones. “It’s either going out every single day to the point of no sleep or becoming a hermit inside your house.”

You pout. “I’m working, you know tha-”

“It’s cause she only goes out with her LA friends now, Meme.” Claire blurts out as she appears from inside the closet, holding one of Aya’s transparent coats. You keep a straight face as you turn to look at her, trying not to cringe with her nickname for Aya. She seems oblivious of your annoyance, though, making her way to lean on the archway leading to where Aya’s finishing getting ready. “Now it’s all about Dora and - what’s his name?”

Aya interrupts before you have the chance to bite back, “It’s not even that, C, think she’s found something more interesting keeping her in London.” 

The smirk she shoots you from over her shoulder makes you avert your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck, warming all the way to the tip of your ears. The knowing look on her face could almost make you entirely flustered, as if she knows exactly the reason you’ve been so comfortable staying in London by yourself — especially now that the sole thought of being alone sends a tight grip to your chest. But you know there’s no reason for you to be nervous about it. You haven’t told a single person about your reconnection with Harry yet, somehow feeling an odd sort of protectiveness over it. And you’re not sure why this new flame of happiness still feels so fragile to you, so delicate, that a simple, outspoken word to the wrong person could take it away from you. 

And oh, how scared you are of it being taken away as quickly as it came to you.

So you’ve kept it within your grasp for as long as you can. Away from prying eyes and greedy hands. It’s the one thing that you have now that feels just yours, the one part of you that no one else knows about. That’s the sole reason you even asked him to keep it a secret in the first place.

Still, that doesn’t mean that people around haven’t noticed the sudden change in you — as small as you thought it was, it surely didn’t go unnoticed by those that know you so well. Sonia was the first to mention it. When you couldn’t keep yourself from checking your phone every five minutes during a studio session, she had teased you about it. You brushed it off, and she made no more comments about it, thankfully. But you didn’t miss the looks she gave you every time you excused yourself to make a phone call.

With Aya, though, you know it won’t be as easy to get her to disregard your behavior. You hoped she hadn’t caught on when earlier in the afternoon she nudged you about being all smiley while reading a text (Harry had just sent you a picture of Duchess wearing a knitted vest he’d made for her and you had it open when Aya peeked from over your shoulder to see what you were looking at, so you just said it was a message from your sister before quickly locking the screen). 

However, after her comment, you’re sure she’s clearly aware that something’s up. And, knowing Aya, you’re aware she won’t drop this subject until you tell her exactly what it is that’s keeping you in London. Before she has the chance to poke further, you’re saved by none other than Claire, who did not pick up on Aya’s grin shot towards you. Barely registering the meaning behind her words at all, actually, as she makes her way to sit at the foot of the bed. “Well, whatever it is, I think I might have something to keep you here with us.”

Thankfully, Aya drops the subject, only widening her eyes slightly at you, almost in a warning at what’s coming. “Here it comes.”

You frown, glancing from your friend that stands opposite you to the girl that’s scooping closer to where your legs rest. “What do you mean?”

“I know you’re still having a hard time after Noah.” The words spill from her lips and you almost choke on your own saliva at her bluntness. There was a sort of silent agreement between you and Aya about not mentioning your ex by name. So hearing it being outspoken without expecting it surely comes in a bit of a shock. But Claire still seems oblivious of it, only reaching to grip right under your knee in what’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture, you guess. “But it’s been so long now! Maybe you need a little push with, like, getting over him.”

“A push.” It’s hard to keep the affronting expression that tugs down your lips.

“Someone.” A squeeze to your knee. You want to push it off. “There’s this guy-”

That’s it. You close your eyes with a deep breath. “Claire-”

“Before you say no, listen to me!” She holds out her hands, in a habit of gesturing her words when she explains herself. “There’s this guy, okay? He works with my brother at NYT and I met him a couple of times, and- Just listen! The whole time we were talking, I could only think of you! I was like ‘oh my god, she’s gonna love him’ cause he’s totally your type!”

You scoff, glancing over at Aya who’s clearly trying to keep herself occupied. “Is this why you’re dragging me out tonight?”

Her deer-in-the-headlights eyes meet yours in the reflection. “Hey, I have nothing to do with Mr. Perfect here. As I said, I just think it’d be good for you to go out.”

“Just meet him, okay? You don’t have to go out on a date or anything just-” Claire brings your attention back to herself. “Just talk for a bit, see if you click. I think it’ll be good.” Her voice gets softer, shoulder dropping. “I’m just trying to help.”

There’s not an ounce of you that wants to engage in any sort of small-talk filled conversation, having close to no patience in getting to know someone new at this moment of your life. The prospect of having to sit and pretend whatever this man is going to tell you about himself interests you for god knows how long is enough to make you want to swim all the way back to England in your stilettos. But it’s clear that Claire’s intentions with this are far from malicious in any way, and you can’t help but feel bad for lashing out at her. So you just sigh, letting the words fall from your lips before you think about it enough to regret them,  “Okay.”

Her face lights up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll chat with him.”

She squeals. “You’ll love him! I’m telling you-”

“Claire,” You interrupt before she can get ahead of herself. “You sound like you’re envisioning a wedding already. I agreed to chat. That's it.”

“Chat. Okay, it’s a start.” She nods, a smile too big for her face before squealing again, throwing a look over her shoulder. “Right, Meme? Don’t you think it’ll be good for her?”

“Please, I’m just the audience in this conversation.” She calls back, turning to face you after a second to motion to the coat sitting on Claire’s lap. “Is this the coat you chose?”

Claire jumps from her spot in the bed at the mention of it. “Yes! What do you think? Wait- I’ll try it on, see if you can still notice the pink details on my dress.”

The girl bolts towards the walk-in closet where there are larger mirrors she can see herself better on and, just as she turns her back, Aya shoots you a wink before following her. 

You relax back into the arrangement of pillows, another sigh leaving your lips as it comes to you what you’ve just agreed on. Sometimes you wish you weren’t so easily persuaded by a pair of puppy eyes, knowing the consequences of it almost always have to do with you doing something you’re not too comfortable with. Your eyes shut close and you have to refrain from rubbing your face as not to ruin the makeup Aya applied so carefully. The night has barely started and you already feel exhausted mentally. Not wanting to dwell on it further, you make a mental note to yourself: learn how to say no.

Turning your face, you pick up the phone that was left forgotten next to you during the chat with Claire. To your surprise, the screen lights up showing a text from Harry received just about five minutes ago. You try not to sit up too suddenly, as not to call attention to yourself, while you swipe your thumb over the screen to open the message. 

A smile tugs on your lips before you can even read what it says, simply reacting to the picture attached to it. The first thing you notice is his hair, poking out of his head in a messy mesh resembling somewhat of a mane. You bite back a giggle at the thought. His face is lit up, mouth parted in an open smile as he gives a thumb up to the camera. You take a moment too long looking at his face until you realize what the picture is meant to show. You. Next to him, on the screen of his telly, grinning with the blue sunglasses you wore to the music video shoot.

The text under it is short, but it causes the most beautiful flowers to bloom under your chest.

H: Found this cutie while browsing todayy

H: Looks familiar? ;)

//

“That’s definitely too much.”

You glanced back at Harry as your eyebrows shot towards your hairline, challenging. His own face mimicked your expression, peeking down at the cup of flour in your hands before meeting your eyes again. With his locks being pulled up with your hair tie, it’s hard to take him seriously after you’d teased him about resembling a sprout when he first walked into the kitchen, ignoring his protests to playfully sweep the tiny bouquet of curls with your finger.

“How many times do I have to tell you, this is the exact amount?” You replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“How do you know? You’re not even measuring it!”

“It’s a muffin, Harry, how difficult can it be?” You rolled your eyes in feign annoyance, turning the cup into the mixing bowl before he could protest it. “I can do it by eye just fine.”

“This is chaotic.” He scrunched his nose, shaking his head in disbelief at the cloud of flour that floated through the air at how abruptly you threw it. “Making a bloody mess, you are.”

“Yeah, yeah, now tell me what’s next.”

He exhaled a chuckle, secretly enjoying your antics, before turning to check the open recipe book that sat on the counter. His finger followed the words written in instructions, and you observed with amusement the crease forming on his face as he attempted to decipher your nan’s handwriting. It took him a second before he clicked his tongue, “We should’ve mixed the wet ingredients first.”

“Does it make a difference?” You bit back a smile, knowing your words would get a reaction out of him.

And, as you predicted, Harry’s face turned into an appalled expression. “Does it make a difference?” He repeated your question, astounded. “Of course it makes a difference!”

You giggled, reaching for the milk carton. “I’m sure the muffins will be fine if I put in the milk after the flour, they won’t even notice.”

“Christ,” He shook his head again, a few curls falling loose against his forehead with the motion. “Baking with you is going to make me go gray by the time I reach my twenties.”

This time you let out a full laugh, mouth falling open in fake offense. “You’re so dramatic!”

Harry smiled, then, both dimples poking deeply into his cheeks as he reached to take the carton from your hands. You two finished mixing the batter, taking a bit too long to get it inside the oven as you enjoyed pestering Harry in the process a bit too much. Every so often someone walked into the kitchen to pick up some drinks or leave dirty dishes by the sink, checking in on the both of you with that smile adults always give you when you’re with Harry (usually followed by some corny joke about young love that made you roll your eyes).

It was the day of one of the barbecue parties your parents always threw at the beginning of summer break. They would invite their closest circle of friends to spend the day in your back garden, usually followed by a ‘luau’ (as your dad called it, even though it was definitely not a luau) once your parents got tipsy enough to bring out the guitars and light up a fire. 

When everyone was a tad lethargic from lunch, relaxing back into their chairs as the sun felt hotter as it shone proudly on the cloudless sky, you had the idea of baking your nan’s recipe of blueberry muffins.

Usually, the tradition of baking a dessert to be freshly served in the afternoon was left to your mum and sister -- who was almost passing the age in which she wanted to have a hand in everything to call attention to herself. But you were faster this time, volunteering to do the task, and dragging Harry with you, as you were eager to have some time alone with him without having someone interrupting to ask him yet another football question that left you bored out of your mind.

So, you take advantage of having the kitchen to yourselves, bumping your hips against his as you two swept the counter quietly, cleaning the mess you’d made earlier. Your aunt had just left the kitchen after making one of those comments regarding marriage that are meant solely to embarrass both of you, and a faint blush was still visible on his cheeks. It made you want nothing more than to reach up and press your lips to them, only to feel the spot of his dimple deepening with a smile.

The air was smelling sweeter when you threw the dirty cloth inside the sink, leaning back into the island as you watched Harry crouch to peek inside the oven. You couldn’t help the grin as you noticed the muffins spilling out of their cases as expected. 

“Told you it would work out.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” He stood, resting a hand on the counter next to you, leaning into it. “Do absolutely everything wrong but still manage to make it work.”

“Hey!” You giggled, pushing him softly with your hand as you dragged out the word. “I did absolutely everything right just… In my own way.”

“Yeah?” His finger twirled on the hook of your jeans, pulling at it as he moved to stand in front of you, keeping a hand resting on the counter next to your waist. “The world bends its rules for you, it seems.” Pressing a peck at the corner of your mouth, he mumbled, lips close enough that you could feel every word caressing your skin, “Don’t blame it, though.”

You chuckled. “Oh? Do you bend your rules for me too?”

“Of course,” His nose tickled the apple of your cheek, causing you to shrug your shoulder slightly. You felt his warm breath as he exhaled a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Would never let anyone else butcher a batch of muffins in my presence like you just did.”

“Harry!” You cried out, shoving him off playfully. “I’m never baking for you ever again, you can starve during lunch from now on, see if I care.”

He laughed again, leaning down to bite the tip of your nose before you quickly tried to push him away. “Stop, baby, you know I’m just joking.”

“Too late now, you already lost your dessert privilege.”

“Ouch.” Harry pouted, attempting to pull his puppy eyes to get you to budge, but you simply raised your brows at him, chewing your inner cheek to prevent a smile from growing on your face. He started to lean down to press his lips on yours but he could barely move before the doors leading outside slid open again, startling both of you, causing Harry to quickly step back.

Your sister’s face peeked up curiously from her spot at the door frame, a juvenile smile teasing at her lips at the scene she’d just interrupted.

“What do you want, Ly?”

Lyla shot you a condescending look from your harsh tone, “I’m not here for you, dumb face.” She took out her tongue, and you rolled your eyes — sometimes she’s too much of a thirteen-year-old. “Auntie Sue said you were done and Harry promised to help me with a project.”

“A project?” You raised your brows, glancing at the boy next to you who was already adorning a guilty smile on his face.

“I did promise that.”

“It’s a secret project!” Lyla’s voice raised to a higher pitch.

“Okay, then.” You sighed, looking between the two of them before setting your eyes on Harry again. The pout is clear in your voice as you speak up,

“Seems like your presence is being required.” You nod towards Harry’s vibrating phone that sits on top of the table behind the two of you.

“Oops, sorry.” He shoots you a guilty smile before reaching over his shoulder for the device.

You avert your eyes as he glances down at the screen, focusing on the sunrays that peek from between the leaves of your green fence, painting the tips of the grass gold. It’s been just over a month since your first coffee date (you only call it that for lack of a better word) and, with summer just around the corner, the days are beginning to stretch longer. The sun is still bright and proud as the afternoon meets the evening. There’s a warmth that’s not yet too insufferable, but more like welcomed after months of endless drizzle and sharp winds. 

It’s perfectly fitting for a nice lazy day like this one. 

This is the first time you got to properly have him around for the day. Despite Harry having wrapped his term just about a week ago and your agenda keeping you in London for the next few months, both your schedules only seem to have gotten tighter. You spend most of your time during the week inside the recording studio — the sessions dragging into the evening hours more often than not, as you find yourself too caught up with them. Meanwhile, Harry’s back to working his regular working hours now that Act One has officially started working on the productions for the summer season.

Surprisingly, though, you fell into a routine of sorts quite easily. You still chat every day, not limiting your communication to texting alone (though you still love receiving Harry’s random pictures throughout the day), but also making phone calls most days once both of you have finally settled in bed after long working hours. And it’s not like you’re not able to see each other with these scheduling complications, it’s only that those hangouts are limited to either weekends or early evenings. 

On the two-week mark, after you met again, you could finally take him to the proper coffee hangout that you’d promised. The cafe in question is one you’ve been going to for over a year now. A friend recommended it, and you instantly loved it for how hidden it is, and most frequented by an older audience — which means you’re able to sneak in and out with no hassle. You took Harry there on a Sunday morning, and it surprised you to find that the place is actually much closer to his flat than your house. So, after cups of iced coffee and shared muffins, you two walked all the way to his place, enjoying the laziness that allows people to sleep in as the week reaches an end.

That was one of your favorite days with him. It had been a long while since you allowed yourself to simply relax during a walk; forgetting how it feels to be aware of every corner you turn. That’s the easy thing about being with Harry, you’ve found the simple concept of relaxing. He allows you to let your guard down, to enjoy those things you’ve once taken for granted. The ones that bring a sense of normalcy that can easily be overlooked by those who don’t get to experience the other side of it. It’s something you’re sure Harry doesn’t even realize he’s brought back to your life, but you still show your silent gratitude in any way you can.

It’s what made you invite him to your house for lunch in the first place. It didn’t go unnoticed to you how most times you end up back in his flat and, as much as he repeats how he enjoys your presence there, it doesn’t stop you from feeling the slightest bit self-conscious about it. 

“Shit.” Harry mutters under his breath, his fingers tapping swiftly on the screen, a frown deepening on his face.

Raising your brows, you wait a second before speaking up, afraid of interrupting whatever it is that has him alarmed, “Everything alright?”

“Julia’s making dinner tonight.” He replies, eyes scanning the device in his hands before sighing. “Completely forgot.”

“Oh. Is it, like-” You pause, glancing down at your phone that’s left forgotten in your lap, pressing the home button to check the time. The screen lights up, letting you know it’s just around six, meaning Harry’s been over for just about seven hours now. “Shit, I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to keep you-”

“Don’t apologize.” He locks his phone, shooting a reassuring smile your way. “My fault, really. Just completely slipped off my mind.”

You nod, watching him gnawn at his bottom lip, brows meeting in a frown as he gets deep in thought. Parting your lips. You don’t let any word out at first, afraid that if you do, he’ll remember it's time for him to go back. There’s a selfish voice in your head that wants to ask him to stay a bit longer, to not part ways yet, to just call off on this dinner. But you know better than to say any of it out loud, opting to suck in your lips instead, as if the words could just slip out without your consent.

Harry sighs, and you can’t help but let your shoulders fall, knowing what’s coming. “I should get going.” He picks up his empty glass, pocketing his phone as he stands with a huff. “Julia’s not very happy that I’m late.” He chuckles. “Again.”

Laughing, you get up from your chair as well, patting the back of your thighs as you feel your skin a bit sore from sitting for so long. Before you can answer him, however, your attention snaps towards the opened door leading to your kitchen, as a small figure comes rushing towards you. You feel the soft fur against your legs before you can properly register the pup circling you. Once you realize what’s going on, as the familiar black spaniel greets you, you freeze in your spot, glancing from the dog that now jumps excitedly on Harry’s legs to the door where he came from.

“You didn’t tell me you had a pup.” Harry smiles, his voice getting a higher pitch as he kneels to pet behind his ears. “Hey buddy, where did you come from?”

“I don’t.” You reply, walking towards the house as you search for the owner who’s likely already found her spot in the kitchen.

“Huh?” You hear from behind you as you stride towards the house. 

Surely, as predicted, you spot her hiding halfway inside your fridge, back turned to you. You notice how Bella’s blonde locks are way shorter since last time you saw her — now stopping just above her shoulders. As surprised as you are, you don’t comment on it, simply staring at your intruder of a friend as you try to figure the situation in hand. 

This isn't exactly how you’d planned to introduce Harry to your friend group. Well, shit.

Bella doesn’t pay any mind to you at first, but certainly senses your presence as she speaks out from over her shoulder. “Hey, did you not buy any more greek yo- Oh.” She stops as she turns, just in time when Harry walks in with the dog cradled in his arms. Her eyes jump between the two of you as she pushes the fridge’s door to a close. “Hi.”

“Hello.” You shoot her a look.

Harry puts the pet down, “Hi.”

“Uhm,” You stand awkwardly, playing with the rings hugging your fingers. Bella raises her brows in a silent question and you sigh. It’s not like you can do anything now. “Harry, this is my friend, Bella. Bella, this is Harry.” You motion your arms between them as you introduce one another.

Harry clears his throat. And you can only suppose how confused he must be, considering you mentioned nothing about a friend visiting today. But it’s not like you were aware of it, either. Bellas and you are at that point in your friendship in which you don’t find the need to announce your visits anymore, simply making yourselves at home every time both of you are in town.

He glances at you for a second, before nodding at your friend. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She grins politely. There’s a beat of quietness that no one really knows what to say next, and you can feel a silent pressure for you to break it. When you don’t, Bella points vaguely to a spot behind her, “Uh, I can come back tomorrow…”

Your lips part as you try to stop her, but before you can do so, Harry beats you to it.“You don’t have to, really. I was just leaving, actually.” He scratches his nose. “I don’t mean to intrude on anything you two have planned…” 

“Oh, no, that’s not it!” Bella rushes.

“We have nothing planned.” You assure him, glancing between your friends. “Bella just comes to visit whenever she’s in London.”

“Yeah, I was the one interrupting.” She backs you up, clicking her tongue. “Should’ve called first.”

"That's okay.” You tell her.

“Well, I hope you two enjoy the rest of your day, then.” Harry nods, eyes meeting yours as he mutters, “I really need to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You say, “I’ll take you to the door.”

With one last wave to Bella, he follows you as you guide the way towards the front door. You open it for Harry, allowing him to step out first before you let it close behind you — as to avoid the dog from running out. Leaning back against it, you shoot him a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was coming.” You point back. “She has the keys so…”

“That’s fine.” He reassures, hands hiding inside the pocket of his jeans. There’s a second of silence, as you two just enjoy each other’s presence for a little before having to bid your goodbyes. You can’t help but let your eyes fall to his shirt once again — although being a simple white tee, the words I spread like strawberries embroidered to it have been haunting you all afternoon. Once your eyes move up again, you don’t find his, as he glances down at his shoes, a cute reddish tone painting the apple of his cheeks. When he speaks up, he peaks up at you from under his lashes, “I had a lovely time, as usual.”

“Me too.” You bite down a smile, tilting your head. “As usual.”

He nods, looking over his shoulder before back at you. Chewing down the side of his lip, he asks, “I’ll see you?”

You try to think of a date to give him, knowing as summer progresses your schedule will only get tighter with the studio sessions. “Uhm, probably sometime at the end of the week, maybe? I’m a bit busy, but I’ll let you know.”

“Alright.” He nods, staring for a second before stepping forward to embrace you into a hug. “Take care, love.” His words come out a bit muffled as he squishes his face on the crook of your neck.

You giggle as the strands of his hair tickle the side of your face. “You too, H.” 

Pulling away, he steps backward, pointing at you in a playful warning. “Still owe me a lemon tart.”

“Gotcha.”

Taking a deep breath, you watch for a bit longer as he walks away, waving a last goodbye before disappearing back inside your house. You give yourself a moment to prepare for the wave of questions waiting for you as soon as you step back into the kitchen. 

You find Bella twirling on a stool propped next to the island, spoon in her mouth and an open package of greek yogurt sitting on the counter. As soon as you walk in, she stops, pulling the spoon out as her brows shoot towards her hairline. She doesn’t wait a second before questioning, “So…” A smirk grows on her face and she points vaguely with her spoon to a spot behind you. “Harry?”

You groan, taking a seat next to her. “You were not supposed to walk in on that.”

“Well, I’m sorry! How was I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know, maybe try calling?”

“I never call before coming here.” She challenges, and it’s true. Picking a spoonful of yogurt and shoving into her mouth, she watches you for a second. You simply glance back, aware of her expectant stare attempting to pry you to speak up first. You watch her swallow, lips quirking as you refuse to give what she wants. She raises her brows again, this time voicing her question, “Is he…?”

You shake your head at her implication. “No, he’s… A friend.”

“That was a pause.”

“Well, he was my ex before he was my friend.”

“An ex? Is he-” Bella frowns for a bit and you can almost see the wheels inside her head turning. “Holy shit! Is he The Harry?”

Now it’s your turn to form a crease between your brows, confused. You don’t recall ever mentioning Harry to her. “Don’t know what you mean by The Harry, but, yes, he was my first boyfriend.”

“You’ve told me about him before.”

“Have I?” You blink at her. “When?”

She thinks for a second before pointing the spoon in her hand at you.“Yes! It was in one of your Halloween parties- actually, right after it.” She looks over at you, only to find a confused expression still settled on your face. “The one we had a sleepover, and I broke your lamp.”

“That was two years ago, yeah, I remember.” As much as your Halloween parties have a tendency of meshing together in your memory (as they’re mostly the same apart from one or two remarkable occurrences), this one in particular you remember quite well as it was the first time Bella slept over at your house. In the middle of the night, she knocked on your room to ask you if she could sleep with you. Her words were coming mumbled because of the alcohol still affecting her bloodstream. The two of you barely slept a tick that night, as you spent hours whispering stories to each other and, at one point, she got so excited as she was telling you about some sort of vacation she had taken (you don’t remember it that well) that she elbowed your lamp causing it to shatter as it fell. You try to rack your brain to find any recollection of mentioning Harry that day, but all that comes to you is the two of you falling into a fit of giggles when you told her about a past hookup of yours. This only causes your frown to deepen. “The party, I mean. I don’t remember mentioning Harry.”

“You were drunk.” She shoves her spoon inside the yogurt as she speaks. “Was sitting at one of the patio chairs, scrolling down on your Instagram page and you saw a picture of him, think you said it was his sister’s profile? I don’t know. But you were whiny for like an hour because of it.”

“What?” So it was at the party? You have a flash of panic, wondering who else was there to hear you whine over your ex boyfriend. “I have absolutely no recollection of this.”

“It was cute, really.” She tries to comfort you, still focusing on her pot of dairy. “You didn’t say much- you weren’t making a lot of sense, really, but I remember you saying he was the first person you were in love with. Didn’t know he was your first boyfriend.”

You fall back into your seat. “Yeah… That’s him.”

“How long were you together?” Bella glances back at you, brows peaking in curiosity. 

“Almost four years.”

“What?” Her eyes bulge. “How come you never told me that?”

“Don’t know, was a bit of a sensitive topic, I guess.” You know it was. The only reason why you refrained from mentioning him to anyone for a long time was because of the tightness in your chest that followed the sound of his name. “But yeah, we started dating right after his fourteenth birthday.” The memory comes to you as a smile. “His birthday’s in February and he asked me on Valentine’s day, was really cute. I don’t think anyone thought it would last that long at the time.”

“That’s super sweet.” She whines, her shoulders falling as she huffs. “Ugh, I hate love.”

You chuckle. “Same.” 

“So you broke up when you were, what, eighteen?”

“Yup.” 

“Was it because of distance and stuff?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You think back to the time you two started drifting apart, a thought you haven’t revisited in a long time. “We were already very distant even when we were together.” Shrugging, you try to push back the heaviness in your chest. “Guess we were just meant to go different ways.”

"That's poetic.” She nods. You assume she’s noticed the way your voice has taken a lower tone, as her own grows a pitch, shoving you as she tries to cheer you up. “But now you’re together again!”

Breathing out a laugh, you roll your eyes slightly. “We’re friends.”

“Right.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “But, you know, you went each your own way and somehow crossed paths again. Do you know what that’s called?”

You close your eyes, already familiar with your friend’s antics. “Bella…”

“Fate.”

“Oh my god.” You shake your head at her, hoping she doesn’t notice the blush that creeps up your neck.

“I’m just saying, if I were you, I wouldn’t let this opportunity escape.” She bites down her empty spoon to hide the smirk that grows on her lips. The way her brows wiggle before she says anything allows you to prepare for what's to come. “I mean, with all due respect, he is very fine.”

“I knew it was coming.” You pucker your lips to avert from smiling, trying to seem casual before confessing, “But yes, he looks really good.”

“The long hair? The tattoos? Girl!” Her eyes widen. “If he wasn’t your ex, I would’ve been saying some really inappropriate stuff right now.”

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands. “Please, don’t.”

“I said ‘would’!” She emphasizes the word as she tries to pull your hands away from covering your eyes. “I’m only thinking about it, relax.”

Rolling your eyes again, you nod towards her half-empty pot. “Eat your yogurt.”

//

The air inside the flat somehow is warmer than the outdoors. The large windows opposite the kitchen are wide open to have some sort of breeze flowing around to relieve the heat coming from the stove. A generic scent of fried dough dances around the small space with it. It’s one that Harry recognizes from past times that Julia’s made the dish, and it makes his mouth water as soon as he steps inside.

Julia’s at her spot in the kitchen taking care of the food, her back turned to him as she bumps her hips along with the beat of a song he doesn’t recognize. Next to her, Harry recognizes Mitch’s back reaching for the small pile of plates inside the cabinet with Blake standing right behind (he assumes because she’d asked for his help with the task, considering she usually has a hard time reaching the last shelves). 

Their voices mesh together as they seem too lost in their conversation to notice Harry’s arrival. Right as the door clicks closed, however, Blake takes the plates from Mitch’s hands, turning to catch Harry right as he toes-off his shoes.

“Look who’s decided to show up!” She speaks up, calling the attention of both friends that still stood oblivious of the boy that now sports a guilty smile. Blake raises her brows at him, setting the plates on top of the island counter. “For what do we owe this honor?”

“Finally!” Julia barges before Harry can even start with the apology he went over in his head during the entire tube ride. “I was completely outnumbered in this discussion. Tell them that our plates are nice!”

He stops right by the edge of the kitchen tiles, furrowing his brows at his friends’ request. “What?”

Harry tries to search for an explanation from Mitch, who simply leans back onto the counter with his arms crossed, and an amused smirk painting his lips as he nods towards Julia.

The girl has turned back to the stove, a colander spoon in her hand moving the pastries around inside the pan filled with oil. She huffs before she explains, eyes trained on the stove, “They’re being incredibly rude, calling our plates tacky!”

Without even looking at the plates in question, Harry chuckles. “Oh, is it the floral ones?”

He confirms his assumptions when glancing at the dishes set on top of the island counter. The collection was sent by her parents around the new years after her visit for the holidays — she’d told them about how they cracked most their dishes at the edges and they sent in a full set as a replacement. And, as much as both of them found the action heartwarming ly thoughtful, they both had a good laugh upon opening the box when it first came in. 

Because they were, after all, a bit tacky. 

Each has its edges painted with a different color, with matching roses circling around it. To make matters worse, the center of them have each a different phrase. Harry couldn’t make sense to them at first, as they’re written in Portuguese, but from what Julia’s translated it doesn’t go far from those catchphrases you can find at the Live, Laugh, Love side of Pinterest.

That’s something Julia very openly makes fun of her parents about; what she says is their lack of taste for just about everything. And Harry was very aware of the fact, not only by the way she teases them to no end about it but also by her choices of presents to send back home (for instance, that god awful umbrella -- may it rest in pieces). With their time together as flatmates, it’s almost become somewhat of an inside joke between the two of them. 

But, as much as both of them have taken the piss about it before, they still have a fondness heavily attached to them. So it’s understandable Julia’s annoyance at their friends’ tease, especially when both bark into laughs at Harry’s question.

“You’re not helping!” Julia throws him a look from over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to confirm!” Harry raises his hands in surrender as he watches the girl roll her eyes before focusing back on the pan in front of her. He pulls one stool next to the one Blake’s taken for herself, sitting on it before glancing down at the dish in front of him. He spins it slightly with the tip of his finger, watching the yellow roses move with it. “But Jul’s right, stop attacking our plates.”

“I wasn’t attacking them, if I have any right to a replica.” Mitch moves from his spot to take the stool in front of Harry. “If I recall correctly, I even said they were very charming.”

“Your sarcasm doesn’t impress me, Rowland,” Julia replies from her spot, not looking back. “Just say they're ugly already! Since you guys hate them so much!”

Blake shoots Harry a knowing look, a smile poking at her lips from being too used to her girlfriend’s dramatics. She pushes her stool back, standing before she walks over towards the grumpy girl who’s now focusing on taking out the pastries and laying them on a trail that’s covered with napkins. Embracing her from behind, she presses a kiss between Julia’s shoulder blades before whispering something just for her to hear.

Harry watches them for a second, not helping the part of him that wishes he could have someone like they do. It verges a tragedy, he thinks, to be a hopeless romantic and not be in love.

"Food is ready!" Julia speaks up, her voice this time taking a higher pitch. Harry doesn’t miss the look the couple exchanges before finding their seats across from each other.

Julia sets the trail in the center. The pastries take a half-circle shape and are organized neatly in two rolls, their golden crust looking very appealing, making Harry realize how hungry he actually is.

“So, explain to me,” Mitch begins, nodding towards the dish. “What are those guys?”

“These, my dear, are called pastel- you know, like the color shade,” Julia explains, picking up one of them. “They’re basically, like, a pastry. You can stuff them with anything you want, really. I made the most common ones which are cheese- the ones on this roll- and meat.” She points to the rolls showing where each one line. “We usually have them as, like, a snack, but I was really missing them so I made it for dinner. And we also eat it with sugarcane juice, but y’all don’t have it here,” She shakes her head. “Tasteless.”

“Sugarcane juice?” Mitch raises his brows.

Julia goes into one of her rants that Harry’s heard about a hundred times before by now — the ones that come up every time she talks about her country, which he finds rather cute how passionate she gets when talking about her culture. His head shuts off for a bit, though, already knowing the information by heart, as he focuses on his groaning stomach. 

For a moment, they just eat while having more of a casual chat. Julia rambles for a good portion of it about her life back home, and, soon enough, they all share their own experiences that make them miss their hometowns. It makes for a nice bonding experience, four people from different spots in the world that found themselves in London at the same time. All sharing a meal as they recall the parts of them they left behind when they choose to leave. For a moment, Harry forgets all about the apology he’d rehearsed on the way back from your house. 

It doesn’t even slip into his mind how he escaped any sort of immediate interrogation about his whereabouts. He’s even naïve enough to think that maybe Julia’s even forgotten about it as well, thanks to the plates’ discussion. 

Harry soon finds himself to be wrong, though. And the worst of it all, it catches him completely off guard.

The group has just quietened down from a story Mitch’s told from back in the days he used to work in a pizza place. Blake’s just offered to clean up the dishes, standing from her stool as she collects the plates. Harry hands her his, glancing at her as he mutters a quick ‘thank you’. He doesn’t notice the way Julia stares at him, eyes narrowed and lips puckering, as she leans into the counter. It only calls his attention once she speaks up, her words coming out slow but almost calculated, as if she’s been thinking about voicing them for a while, “So, H, are you gonna tell us what’s up?”

He doesn’t realize what she’s referring to at first, only furrowing his brows in his confusion. “Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, Styles, you’re hiding something.” She points at him and that’s when he realizes, breath hitching on his throat. “And I think that something’s actually a someone, so spill.”

He hears Blake chuckling from her spot at the sink. “Guess we’re going straight to the point, then.”

Harry tries to even his breath, holding back the urge to bite down at his bottom lip as not to show he’s nervous. “What makes you think that?”

Julia grins as if she’s been waiting for him to ask that. “Well, should we go over the list? You suddenly have a life outside, barely stay at home, you’re almost always late to hang out— and that’s coming from me, a Brazilian- oh! You’ve also been baking?” She puts out a finger at each topic on the list, emphasizing the last word as if it’s the most absurd concept to grasp. “And I caught you taking a selfie the other night, which would be odd on itself if I wasn’t sure that you sent it to someone right after.”

Harry nods slowly. “Okay. You kept a list.”

“So?”

“I-” He feels himself panicking, not knowing how to explain himself. On one hand, he hates lying, especially to people he loves. He also knows how upset Julia gets when people lie to her, considering honesty is one attribute she values the most in a person. So the prospect of not only going against one of his own principles but also letting down one of his closest friends, almost makes him sick. But he gave you his word that he would not tell anyone until you were ready to do so. And he wants to keep his word and respect your wishes, knowing that if he doesn’t, it could mean losing everything he’s gotten back these past months. It could mean losing you. So for a moment, he stays there, lips parted but not saying anything. There’s gotta be some sort of middle ground.  “There’s… Someone, and-”

A loud thud comes as Blake drops one plate inside the sink, turning around with wide eyes and soapy hands. “What?”

“I knew it!” Julia slaps her hand on the counter as she exclaims, her mouth dropping in the shape of an ‘O’. “I knew it! How do you get a girlfriend without mentioning it to me? I thought we were friends?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” Harry blurts out.

“How could you keep this from us?” Blake comes to stand behind her girlfriend, her face still wide in shock before she turns to Mitch. “Did you know about this?”

“I did not have any involvement in this, no.”

Julia continues her inquiry, “Who is it?”

“Jul-”

She interrupts Harry before he can properly form a word, “Is it that girl from work? The one that had a crush on you? What’s her name again-”

“Julia, please.”

“Alice!” She snaps her finger, her grin widening as she looks at him as if she just solved an enigma. “It's her, isn’t it? Did you finally make a move? Oh my god.”

“I- It’s-” Harry’s fully panicking now, eyes moving quickly between his friends as they stare at him, waiting for a confirmation. Is this the middle ground he wanted? No, he thinks to himself. This will only make things worse. He should just say he wants to keep it private for now. It would annoy them, sure, but they’d have to understand, right? It’s the rational thing to do. But Harry’s not working with rationality at the moment, and his mouth works before his brain does, “Y-yeah, it’s her.”

Blake gasps. “Harry!”

“I can’t believe you!” 

He needs to fix this. “We’re not dating.” 

“Yet.” She points before squealing, reaching a hand over her shoulder to hold Blake’s wet ones while placing her other over her heart. “Look at you! They grow so fast…”

“Please, don’t.”

“Babe, let him breathe for a bit.” Blake breaks her hand from her girlfriend’s grasp, reaching for a napkin and using it to dry her hands. She smiles at him, “I would like to see a picture of her, though.”

Before he has the chance to answer, Julia’s already talking, “You should’ve invited her to come today! There’s enough food-”

“No, it’s… Uh, it’s not like that.” Harry tries to come up with something to explain himself as not to dig a deeper hole than he already has put himself in.

Blake frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Just-” He pauses, glancing between his friends. They all show different stages of confusion. “We’re taking things slow.”

Julia rolls her eyes, “Harry, you’re already the slowest person I know.” She states as a matter-of-fact, shaking her head at him. “With your pace, we’re getting this relationship announcement in five years.”

He huffs, the insistence annoying him a bit. Maybe it’s because he knows the more they keep this subject, the deeper the hole he can get himself in. So he simply avoids feeding more into it, choosing to ask her instead,  “Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me in a relationship?” His eyes meet Blake’s in a silent plea for an intervention.

“Because I want to have cute double dates!” Julia whines.

Mitch deadpans, “What’s this, then?”

“Okay! We have desert!” Blake seems to find her cue to barge in, clapping her hands together before continuing, “And it’s made of chocolate!”

Harry smiles at her, shooting her a look of gratitude. “Chocolate sounds perfect.”

“Sounds marvelous,” Mitch adds.

Julia, however, is not dumb. She narrows her eyes slightly. “You guys are changing the subject.”

Her girlfriend barely bats an eye at her statement, though, only squeezing her shoulder gently, “Babe, why don’t you tell Mitch about brigadeiro? I’m sure he’ll love to hear it.”

The girl sighs, shooting Harry another knowing look before giving up on the subject for the time being. He only gives her a small smile, watching as she begins to tell Mitch all about desert. 

Well, he really dug himself a hole with this one.

//

Harry loves Sundays.

This is funny enough of a statement, considering how he used to despise it when he was younger. Back when he knew it meant that he’d have to be up early the next day to walk the cracked sidewalk leading to his school, fighting to keep his eyelids halfway open. The entire day would feel like a countdown (just eight more hours until the weekend’s over!). The only thing that made the day the slightest bit enjoyable was that he used to visit his nan every Sunday right after breakfast. He still remembers how he and his cousins would sit in front of the telly with their toys scattered around them, the entire house adorned with the scent of vanilla.

He’s not sure exactly when the switch of opinion for the day happened, but he knows that you’re one of the main reasons for it. Sunday’s were your days. They were the only days in which you were sure to be free from babysitting duties with your sister, hence why there was a silent agreement that settled between both of you to spend it together. So you reserved Sundays for the two of you. And Harry’s sure some of his fondest memories with you happened on a Sunday.

So it was hard not to love the day when it brought you to him every time.

Although years have passed, his attachment to the day hasn’t faded. Especially now, when you seem to fit back into his Sundays just as perfectly as you used to. 

The cafe smells just like his nan’s house used to when he first walks in - the only major difference being the scent of coffee that meshes with the vanilla in the air. It’s the third time he comes with you here and, just like the previous ones, there’s a surprisingly low movement for it being mid-morning. Most of the customers that frequent it, as you’d informed him the first time you took him there, are elders. There’s a couple right at the door enjoying the cloudless day at the chess table that’s carefully prompted just outside the cafe that bids good morning as the younger pair passes by, not paying much attention to them. Meanwhile, inside, the other four or five customers that sit scattered around the armchairs barely bat an eye towards them as they walk in, focusing only on their newspapers or crossword magazines that sit in front of them as they quietly sip on their drinks.

Despite you not sharing loads with him regarding your public image, from what he could gather, it’s clear how much you value your privacy. So it’s easy to understand why you enjoy coming here, as your presence comes and goes as just another one. 

And he quite enjoys it too, especially noticing how carefree you get in a space you’re comfortable with. Usually, on other few occasions, the two of you go out to public spaces that you’re not as used to, it’s clear how alert you are, even if you’re enjoying yourself. You limit yourself to plain clothes to not call any attention, always with what’s become your signature big sunglasses shielding part of your face -- you even wore them when you went to the cinema to which, although Harry understood the reason for, he didn’t refrain from teasing you about it. 

But today, you abandoned the hoodies and large shirts in various shades of grey. Harry knows the riskiest part of your day in being recognized would be the short walk from his building to the cafe. Still, that thankfully didn’t stop you from going back to your usual wardrobe. Instead, you’re wearing a white dress with red stripes lining along your curves, the skirt flowing all the way down your calves, showing the white sneakers covering your feet. The sunglasses are still present, of course, but you quickly push them up as soon as you walk inside.

Harry watches for a second as your eyes scan the menu written on the wall behind the counter, chuckling to himself as he knows you’re still going for the same order as usual. Before you can step closer to voice your order, however, he says, “Go find a table, I’ll get your order.”  You glance up at Harry, brows shooting up, challenging. “Medium iced coffee and a chocolate muffin.” He grins proudly as he recites your order. “Anything else?”

“No, that's it.” You bite back a smile. “You’re not paying for me, though.”

Of course, you’re insisting, he thinks, already shaking his head. “You paid last time and the time before that and, if I recall correctly, you didn’t let me have a say in it when I tried to intervene in either of them.” Harry pokes your side, nodding towards the table area. “So, go get a table. I’ll be right there.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you stay silent for a beat, clearly debating whether to keep insisting. “Fair enough.” You sigh, walking backward as you point at him. “But I’m paying next time.”

Chuckling, he keeps his eyes on you for a tick longer to catch where you’ve sat, his face warming the slightest bit once you throw him a wink as you settle back in the chair. Once he places the orders for the both of you, he notices some drawings stuck to the wall behind the counter as he waits for them to be done with. They all have a clear childlike trace to them, some more than others, and Harry assumes the more abstract one must’ve been done by a younger child. He smiles to himself, finding it an adorable addition to the place, even if it could easily go unnoticed by an inattentive eye.

“They’re from my granddaughter.” The barista smiles at Harry as he places two cups on top of the counter, nodding back towards the artwork that caught his attention. “Just turned eight. Loves drawing.”

“They look lovely.” 

“This one, actually,” The barista points to one that seems to be more recent, as it’s stuck on top of the others. It shows what looks like two girls holding hands; a smaller one holding a heart on her free hand, and a taller one with a star on top of her head. The man nods to a spot over Harry’s shoulder, “It’s her and your friend, she’s a big fan.”

“Really?” Harry’s lips part in surprise. “That’s very sweet.”

“It’s how I found out she was known.” The man lets out a low laugh, opening the display to reach for a muffin. “Millie was proper mad that I didn’t know who she was when she came to visit, but your friend was a sweet thing, signed her shirt and everything.”

Harry smiles at the story. “Sounds like her.”

“Sure does, seems like a lovely lady.” The man’s attention gets called as the front door opens with a ding. He shoots Harry one last smile, “Duty calls. Enjoy your coffee.”

Harry reaches for the cups with one hand, picking up your pastry with the other. “You too, have a good one.” He feels the words slip before he can register them and, as he realizes his mistake, he quickly turns to head for the table, eyes wide and a blush tainting his cheeks.

You lock your phone, setting it down as soon as Harry approaches the table. He sees a grin twitching on your lips as you glance up at him and he avoids your gaze, knowing it’ll only worsen the warmth on his face.

“What’s got you all flustered?” You ask, your voice verging a laugh.

“Stop.” He scratches his nose in a nervous tick. “Just told that man to enjoy his coffee.”

“Oh, no.” You burst into a fit of giggles and he peeks up at you, holding back a laugh himself as he shakes his head — he loves making you laugh. “C’mon, H, everyone does that. I’m sure he didn’t even notice.”

“Still embarrassing.”

“Just a bit.” Biting down at your bottom lip, you squint your eyes, pushing the muffin towards him. “Here, have a bite, you’ll forget all your problems.”

He breathes out another laugh, reaching to pick a piece of the sweet before shoving it into his mouth. Soon enough, his embarrassment gets lost in conversation, the rosy tone on his cheeks no longer making themselves present from shame but from laughing too hard from something you say. You two get lost in your little bubble for a good while, taking your time sipping on your drinks. Every so often, Harry steals a bite from your muffin — at first, he does it just to have a piece, but once he gets a reaction out of you, eyes narrowing at him adorably as you scrunch your nose in feign anger, he does it just to watch you.

There’s no better way of learning about you than watching, he’s found. One of the biggest changes that he noticed upon getting close to you again, is how you seem to have closed up in a way. And it’s difficult to catch on. He figures that someone who didn’t know you years ago probably doesn’t even realize how much of yourself you keep bottled up. You’re a rambler, that much is easy to pick up. But Harry’s realized that as much as that part of you remains intact, your chatters become much more superficial. You talk about specific events and memories but always narrate it as if you were a mere expectant. You rarely go into detail about your personal life all that much.

Apart from the day you were drunk on his bathtub, he’s barely got a glimpse of feelings regarding him. 

So, he resorts to picking up those bits and pieces you let escape without realizing. He enjoys noticing you (and he’s aware that’s a bit creepy of him, but he can’t help it). How you mention you light a candle before going to sleep cause it helps calm you down. How you refer to your friends with the fondest smile picking up on your lips (but also how you let slip out you only have a person or two that are close to you because getting to know new people makes you anxious). How you always smile at dogs whenever you are — sometimes you even wave at them. How you have the habit of circling your drink in your hand when you’re comfortable, much like you’re doing right now.

The last one always warms his chest. He’s realized you only do it when you let your guard down, allowing yourself to get lost in your world without having to be alert all the time. For all you know, the world outside this small table could’ve stopped spinning and neither of you would notice.

Maybe it’s why you don’t pay any mind to the two teenage girls that enter the cafe. Not until both of them stand right next to the table.

It’s the call of your name that snaps you out of your head. The girls barely blink as they stare down at you, their mouths agape in shock as they hold each other’s hands. “Is it you?”

Harry thinks there’s a flash of panic in your eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes. You smile as you stand, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way you turn your body slightly to shield him. “Last time I checked, that would be me, yes!” You chuckle. “What are your names?”

“I’m Lauren.” The taller one speaks up, her hand clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles are almost white. She looks down at the other one who simply stands there, wide eyes not leaving your figure for even a second. Once the other says nothing else, Lauren answers the question for her. “And she’s Georgia. She’s a bit nervous cause she’s a big fan.”

“That’s very sweet, thank you so much.” You tilt your head a bit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” Georgia says, her voice trembling and the hold on her friend’s hand. “Uhm, do- could we- if it’s not too much of a bother, could we get a picture with you?”

“Uhm, I don’t think it’s the best time right now, I’m sorry, loves.” Your voice is soft as you talk to them, but it quickly takes a more joyous tone as you suggest, “But I’d love to sign something for you if you’d like?”

“Yeah, if you can! If not, it’s okay, really.” Georgia nods, the words all but stumble out of her mouth. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s no problem at all! It’s a pleasure to get to meet both of you.” 

Harry tries to watch discreetly as not to call any attention to himself, recalling what you once said about not wanting headlines of the two of you. So he only peeks up when you turn to fetch a pen from inside your bag, meeting your eyes for a second before you turn your attention back to the young fans. You chat with them for a little as you sign their phone cases, and he can’t help the tug in his heart at seeing you being so attentive to them.

“There we go.” You say as you hand Lauren her phone.

“Thank you so much!” Georgia exclaims, and even from his spot, Harry can make out a glossiness in her eyes. You pull her into a hug. “You’re really, like, one of my favorite people.”

“I’m honored.” You giggle as you back away, giving her friend a hug as well. Softening your voice once again, you keep a gentle hold to the girl’s shoulder, “Just one more thing, I’m sorry to have to ask you that but, would you mind not posting about this location?”

“Of course!” They say in unison, and Georgia is quick to add, “I wasn’t planning to!”

“Thank you for understanding.” You nod with a smile. “It was really lovely meeting the two of you! Hope we get to see each other again. Enjoy your day.”

The girls bid their goodbyes to you, and you give them one last wave before retaking your seat. Harry observes how you keep an eye on them for a beat longer before meeting his gaze, an apologetic expression adorning your face.

“That was sweet.” 

You sigh, “That was unexpected.”

“Thought that kinda thing happened a lot.”

“It does, just-” You pause, frowning your lips slightly. “Never happened in here.”

You tap your fingers against the wood of the table in a nervous tick, bringing your other hand to your mouth as you bite down on the nail of your thumb. It’s clear how alarmed you’ve gotten now that the girls are gone, eyes scanning every bit of the room. Looking anywhere but to Harry’s own worried ones. He doesn’t need to be able to read minds to know that yours is probably rushing right now from a simple glance at your face.

He reaches for your hand on top of the table to call your attention. Once you snap your gaze back on his, you let your shoulders relax a bit. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah! It’s just…” You try to brush his worry off, glancing back at the entrance before sighing again. “Do you think we could take this back to your place? Is Julia there?”

He shakes his head to your last question, “Of course, it’s not that far, anyway.”

“Thank you.” Your expression softens as you move to gather your belongings hanging from the back of your seat. “I’m sorry, I always do this.” Your shoulders fall, the edge of your lips frowning down.

“Hey, how many times do I have to tell you?” He bumps his arm against yours as both of you stand to get you to relax. “You don’t have to apologize, I understand.”

“I appreciate it.” You nod, but the crease between your brows doesn’t ease. “I just want to avoid a possible mob in case they end up posting about the location.” 

Harry tries to ignore the way his heart drops at your words. He wonders how many times you’ve been caught in a situation like this that ended up badly. “I get it.” 

The way back to his building is much different than when you were coming to the cafe a few hours ago. It’s noticeable that you’re tense as soon as you step outside, the sunglasses earning a permanent spot on your face for the time being. Even with your eyes covered, however, Harry still notices how you take in your surroundings almost cautiously. He tries to bump his hips against yours every time you do it, trying to distract you from your worries. It helps, as you shoot him a smile every time, bumping your hips back.

Screams from a nearby park call both your attention as you get closer to his building. As the day approaches the late hours of the morning, people have decided to enjoy the rare dose of sunlight that gave a break to the frequent rainfalls that cloud the city. On the other side of the road, children run around in a playground as their parents watch them from near benches. A few runners make their laps on the sidewalk lining the edge of the block as well as dog-walkers that take more of a stride sort of walk.

“Such a nice day.” You say, glancing down at the floor ahead to allow your hair to cover a bit more of your face. “It’s a shame we have to go back inside.” 

It breaks his heart to hear the way your voice takes a lower tone. He tries to meet your eyes, “Can tell you’re beating yourself up about things out of your control.” Harry pitches your arm, his next words coming out in a playful warning, stretching the word as to get you to smile.  “Stop it.”

“I can’t help it.” You let out a humorless laugh, coming to a stop at a corner to wait for a red light so you can cross. He looks down at you, but you keep your gaze trained ahead. “It is kind of my fault, you know?”

Harry frowns. “Except it’s not.”

“Thank you for trying to make me feel better about it.” You give him a small smile, shaking your head. “But in a way, it is. I know it is. And I don’t mean to complain about it or anything! Cause I’m aware of how privileged I am to get to live my dream and all that… It just-” You shrug. “It’s not always a field of flowers, I guess.”

“You’re allowed to not love every second of it, doesn’t make you ungrateful.” He argues, his hand meeting your shoulder as he gently turns you to face him. “Especially when it comes to all this privacy stuff, you deserve to have your space.”

“I know that but...Well, I signed up for it, you know? I knew my life would never be just mine once I started getting big.” You adjust the glasses on your face. Harry’s close enough that, if he focuses, he can see your eyes under the dark lenses. “And in a way, I’m used to it now, I’ve learned how to live with it.” You sigh, frowning at your lips. “What makes me uneasy when stuff like this happens- what makes me want to keep a low profile when we’re out, it’s not to protect me. It’s to protect you.”

Him? “Me?”

“Yeah…” Your voice is small, almost shy as the confession leaves your lips. Clearing your throat, you avert your eyes down as you quick some loose pieces of concrete from the sidewalk. “It’s the same with my parents or to Lyla or anyone that doesn’t have a life like mine.” You explain in a rush, trying to cover the timidity that warms your cheeks. But when you continue, it’s still clear in your tone, as the words come from your lips in almost a shame, “You don’t deserve to be exposed to all of it just because you’re part of my life. It’s not fair to you.”

It takes Harry a second to let it sink in. To understand the whole reason behind your uneasiness when going out. Why you’re so adamant about keeping your ties to him a secret. Why you try to separate him from your public side.

All this time. You’re doing it to protect him.

There’s no denial of how the confession brings a tightness to his chest. He knows it’s not what you mean to do. But he can’t help it when you sound as if you could be a burden in his life — when, in reality, it couldn’t be the furthest away from the truth. So his shoulders lump as he watches you keep your gaze away from his again, lips frowning down as he uses every ounce of self-control within himself to not pull you to him.

Instead, he ducks his head, trying to find your eyes under the lenses of your glasses. When he speaks up, his words are soft, to embrace you in a way he can’t physically, “Is this why you get so stressed about going out in public? Why you asked me to not tell anyone?” You look up at him at the question and he adds, “To protect me?”

“Of course.” You reply as if it was obvious all along. “W- Did you think it was… Something else?”

“I-I don’t know.” From his peripheral vision, he can see cars coming to a halt as the streetlight turns red, but neither of you makes a move to keep walking. The world around doesn’t matter right now. “I think I just assumed you didn’t want the media assuming…” He motions vaguely with his hand. “Anything.”

“Well, yes, to protect you from that.”

“You-” He shakes his head incredulously. There’s no denial of the bouquet of butterflies that bloom on his stomach at the prospect of you wanting to protect him. At how you say it as if it’s obvious that you’d do it in the first place. Almost treating it as if it’s your duty to do so. But he also can’t help but feel the slightest bit of guilt from it, knowing how this is the main reason that gets you anxious when you’re together. His hand reaches for your shoulder again, caressing it in silent gratitude as his expression softens, “You don’t have to do that, to stress yourself because of me. Do you know that?” 

“But I do.” You’re quick to argue. “You don’t know what it’s like, H. People are brutal. I won’t have them pestering you. I won’t have that.” There’s a clear quiver in your voice at the last few words, and Harry has to fight back the lump on his own throat at the sound of it.

“Love-”

You push up your sunglasses so you can fully glance up at him, “I’m serious.” Your eyes are set, stern, as you lock them on his. But they’re also getting glossy at the edges. “I won’t let them get to you too.” You whisper.

“It’s not your duty, love.” Harry insists, hating how you’re clearly beating yourself up for it. “I can take care of myself in case anything happens.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smile that tugs on your lips is weak, and you shake your head. “If you knew what it would be like...” You trail off.

“Is this why you don’t have any friends with- uh, a regular life?” Harry cringes at himself but doesn’t know how else to word this without making you feel abnormal.

You nod. “Pretty much, yeah.” 

“I understand where you’re coming from.” He says, eyes trained on yours as he wants you to take in every word that he speaks. “I do, but you maybe you shouldn’t allow those people to dictate your happiness.”

You give him a sad smile that twists his heartstrings. “That’s not what it is.”

“It’s what it seems like.” He argues, desperate to get you to understand where he’s coming from. 

The more he takes in the way your eyes water and your lips twist, shoulders falling almost in defeat — as if you’ve accepted the responsibility that you’ve weighed upon yourself — the more he has to hold back his own emotions. It’s clear the toll that this position takes on you; you’ve told him about it before. You’ve told him how you barely have anyone that you consider close — those in the industry being too worried about building their own careers on top of each other’s backs for you to be comfortable sharing any meaningful exchange (apart from very few exceptions). And now he knows why you don’t find these ties with people that have a life outside the spotlight.

 “Doesn’t it get lonely?” He questions out loud.

“All the time.” You let out a humorless laugh. “People don’t realize how lonely it can be to have a career like this.” It comes as a vent and you take a deep breath, your hand quickly coming up to wipe the sides of your eyes though there’s yet a tear to fall. “Like, yes, you have this big team with you, and everyone fawns over you everywhere you go, but-” You pause, exhaling. “After the shows, and the lights, and all that...In the end, when you go to bed, it’s just you and your pillow.”

Harry doesn’t stop himself now, taking the step to close the gap between the two of you, arms circling around you as he pulls you to him. “I hate that you have to feel like this.” He mutters into your hair, feeling you melt into him. Angling his head a bit so his voice doesn’t get muffled, he whispers, “From now on, you have me, yeah? If you ever need anything- anything, I’m just a call away.” 

You hug him tighter at the assurance, your own words coming in a breath that could have easily been missed if they weren’t spoken so close to his skin. “Thank you.”

//

“You should probably get that.”

Jack, your producer, nods towards your phone as it begins to vibrate on top of the wooden table again. You sigh from your spot on the couch, cursing silently whoever’s been blowing up your phone for the past ten minutes. Mondays in the studio are already hard enough to concentrate as it is - especially as you and Jack have been trying to get the guitar riff just right for the past hour - so to add your buzzing device to the mix feels like a cherry on top to your stress cake.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you reach for it. You wanted to wait until you were done to pay attention to whatever’s been going off so as to not lose your focus, but it seems like whoever’s been trying to reach out has been very adamant about your attention.

So you step outside, letting your eyes fall closed for a second as the outdoor breeze relaxes your senses a little. Jack’s balcony right outside his home studio is quite small and doesn’t stand very tall from the second floor, but you love how you can still have a view of a park close enough that the sunset in the back paints the full leaves of the trees gold. After a moment of peace, you sigh as you’re reminded of your duties once the phone in your hand vibrates once again.

Your brows all but meet as you take in the notifications on your screen. There are two missed calls from Sonia, and a couple of messages, not only from her but from your publicist as well. Opening up the chat, your tired eyes just give a quick scan over the words before falling on a link attached to them. Just before you click on it, you can feel your heart sink as you realize it’s a The Sun article.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You mutter to yourself as you wait for the page to load. When it does, you can feel every ounce you get cold as your dread shows itself to be true. What calls your attention first are the pictures, ones taken yesterday as you recognize your white and red striped dress. And you recognize the look of adoration in a click, perfectly timed when you took off your sunglasses. And worst of all, you recognize Harry, holding you close at the corner just before his building.

When you finally remind yourself to read the headline, you’re not sure how you don’t drop your phone all the way down at the words that stare back at you.

NEW ROMANCE? This year’s favorite breakthrough artist is spotted on a coffee date in London with a mysterious brunette!

//

AAAH It’s finally here!! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one but I got very busy very suddenly at the end of the year but I promise next one will be here sooon!! As usual, if you enjoyed it please reblog and leave some feedback, I’m very excited to hear what’s everyone’s thoughts!! 

[liliesoftherain]

Alstroemeria

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader; Midiroiya Izuku x Reader -- one sided bakugou x reader(or is it???????)

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst? Mentions of unrequited love so 

Summary: Alstroemeria: This flower has an array of meanings...but the beautiful blooms always connect to a similar meaning of friendship, love, strength, and devotion. Someone should have mentioned that it doesn’t have to mean all of the above.

A/N: Hi y’all, enjoy this quick one-shot as I finish my next chapter. This is loosely based on the Bridgerton series? Mainly just a Victorian ball au? I just want to imagine Bakugou in a cute waistcoat I’m sorry. Izuku i an Earl and holds title cause his dad is gone. Katsuki is a Marquess cause he’s the son of a duke, as he should.

Part 2--Bakugou’s POV

----------

You’ve had time to get used to the ache of heartbreak.

Skillfully hiding the pain you feel behind a taut smile, you turn away from where he was dancing and sweep your eyes along the extravagant ballroom before you. It really is a wonderous sight; the crystal chandeliers are polished and sparkling, the lavish satin drapes are pulled back by golden ropes and allow the guests to watch the dancefloor without interference, and the professional musicians upon the raised lift play beautifully to set a magical mood. 

You’re no stranger to these elaborate formalities, yet this is the first season you were truly allowed to partake in the events. The fourth ball of the season is just as important as the first, allowing the suitors to try and claim the affections of their wanted--more like, just claim stake in any favorable lady they could. 

However, you have been groomed your entire life for an event such as this, and you were hardly in any position to complain. Yet, that doesn’t mean you were completely uncaring to the idea of being arranged into a loveless marriage. You so painfully wanted your husband to be someone you felt something for--you wanted your love-match. Alas, you weren’t in the position to gain anything of the sort, were you? Not while his attention was on her. 

“These are such a bore, are they not?”

You are shaken from your thoughts, locking on emerald eyes that brimmed with amusement, and you can’t help but grin at the sight. 

“Why, My Lord, dare say are you not entertained by all the ribbons and ascots?”

“I would say not--I prefer a plethora of feathers and exuberant ruffled fronts. Much more fashionable items.”

You share a laugh, the tension melting away the longer you were in the presence of your childhood friend: Izuku Midoriya. The Earl is and has always been a very kind soul, one who you would once spend countless hours with playing in the gardens, and even more so hosting tea and forcing him to attend. As a child, he was always rather timid and shy, easy to persuade into just about anything. Perhaps that is why you and Katsuki always got away with your harmless teasing--well, some teasing more harmless than not. 

He was always nearby, conceding you to put him through the girliest of activities, and yet he never complained. He often returned the favor by forcing you to study, presenting you with books on subjects you couldn’t even begin to understand, and allowed him to rant on about every and anything he found of interest. He was often your escort to most events--with the proper chaperone, of course--and force you to listen off as he rattled endlessly over different theories he came up with from his travels abroad. 

Katsuki wasn’t as fond of listening to his rambles as you were, and often would shut him up with a fencing match or something similar--anything that could have Katsuki physically overpower him to get him to, ‘stop talking for more than two bloody minutes.’ 

Yes, you three were once as thick as thieves--however now...

Your attention flickered back over to the Marquess; his blond locks wild and untamed, even though he was at such a prestigious event, and the endearing sight squeezed your heart as it was so him. He now stood off to the side, chatting away with the miss that has held his attention all night. She was rather beautiful, with long juniper locks and stunning sage eyes; it is no wonder Katsuki would be so bewitched. 

“May I?”

You glance down, seeing Izuku’s expectant hand, and grant him the remainder of your dances on your card. You try to smile, but it falters at his knowing look as his attention goes between you and his other friend. 

He leads you to the dancefloor, holding you tight as you both being to waltz a varsouvienne. You allow the music and his soft gaze to consume you, laughing and jesting as the night went on. Katsuki ends up in the furthest parts of your mind, almost forgotten.

“Pardon--”

Almost.

“Miss (l/n), a dance?” Katsuki stands before you, a friendly sneer on his face as he stares at your dance partner. “A real dance, anyways. Seeing as the ever graceful Izuku may as well have two left feet.”

“Oh, most amusing, Katsuki.” Izuku rolls his eyes, yet stays holding onto you.

You miss the quick glance of Katsuki’s eyes as they sweep over Izuku’s grip on your waist--instead, you offer a silent thanks for his comfort before giving a polite bow of your head. 

“Of course, Lord Bakugou.”

You take his outstretched hand and allow him to guide you away; he spins you once, then brings you back into his embrace. 

“How are you this evening, (y/n)?”

“Very well, My Lord.”

“Now why are you acting with such formalities? Have I not won over your friendship after all these years?” His brow furrows as you turn your head downward. “Tell me, what is it that troubles you?”

“It is nothing, Katsuki.” the upturn of your lips does little to put him at ease, “I am merely feeling the effects of dancing--that is all.”

“Why? Izuku and you had only danced a measly three times--and you know you have to dance with me.”

You let out a snort of amusement, remembering the promise you made to both men before the season first started of saving them at least one dance.

“Yes, of course, I always make sure to save one for you, do I not?” 

“You do.” He chuckles, before smiling at your head. “May I say, your hair looks lovely tonight--alstroemerias again? It suits you.”

He spins you around once more, slower than the first, and you spot Miss Setsuna from across the way. Her frown is prominent as she watches the waltz continue, and in some twisted way, you feel triumphant; you know she’s after his status, and his good looks didn’t hurt either. That’s what every woman was chasing, after all. That’s what you were supposed to be chasing--but that’s not what you want. 

You’ve been in love with Katsuki since you were both children. You loved the little boy who would take you on adventures throughout the grounds behind your estates. You loved the kid who used to pick you alstroemerias for your tea-parties--it is now why they adorn your gardens and your wardrobe. You loved the young man who would--begrudgingly--let you practice various dances on him until you got it just right. You loved the teen who would bring you various trinkets from his studies and travels, just because. You loved the man who never failed to make you feel worthy and respected in the highest regard of the meaning. 

You loved all of him. 

“Yes--they are my favorite flower, after all.”

The dance ends, and you both dip low in respect, and for a fleeting moment, you expect him to stay.

But that hope shatters the second he loses focus on you and gives it to her. You muster the strength to look away. 

“Thank you for the dance, My Lord. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” 

Without waiting on a response, you turn and swiftly make your leave. All you want to do is find your mother and go home, your heart unable to deal with any more pain. On your hasty exit, you end up crashing into someone.

“I, I am sorry,” you gasp, hoping that they said nothing in return so you could continue and get some fresh air.

Why was it so suffocating in here?

“(y/n)? Are you alright?”

Izuku places a firm grip upon your arms, holding you steady as your chest begins to rise and fall in quick breathes. He takes your form in worriedly and quickly moves to escort you to the balcony, where there is no crowd and fresh air. 

Leaning against the railing, you focus on the lush gardens below--on anything to get your mind of Katsuki. Yet it all is in vain, as the pin in your hair comes loose, and an alstroemeria falls right onto the back of your hand. 

Your bottom lip grows unsteady the longer you watch the flower, and you have to blink back the moisture that has begun to collect on your bottom lashes. You don’t understand why it all hurt so much--you’ve known from the start that receiving his affections was slim to none, yet you still held onto the dim idea that he could also return affections. 

You had been watering this seed--this notion--every day, and it only grew stronger and stronger; its stem growing as if it were a vine, seizing every part of your being until you were helpless to the damage it had caused. You are tired--your body, your heart, it all hurts and you want to give up, but you keep pushing for this flower to bloom because something good has to come of all of this hurt, right?

And something does, but what you thought was a beautiful flower of love, strength, and devotion, he only saw one of strength in friendship. 

He may not realize, but it’s killing you that you two are seeing two different sides of the same coin; the opposite sides of the looking glass, unable to get to the other, only able to present a false front instead of the entire truth of feelings as a whole. 

You don’t even realize the tears have started to fall from your face until you notice you were no longer staring down to the darkness below, and had begun to soak the coat of your companion. You pull away, just enough to look into his eyes, and you see the concern and care he holds for you. Leaning back into his embrace, you don’t give yourself another moment to think how scandalous it must look to be held so fondly by a man you weren’t wed to--you need this hug more than anything right now, and that’s enough reason for the both of you. 

Izuku mumbles soothing words of endearment, stroking your clothed back softly--and while you can’t feel his bare skin against yours, you still shiver at the touch. He’s warm, comforting, and you find yourself calming down in his hold. You pull back, creating enough distance to be acceptable, and grant him a watery smile. 

He stares back kindly, a gaze of adoration, as he pulls another of your beloved alstroemeria from the clip behind your ear. 

“What are you--”

Izuku sets it on the balcony ledge, then unclips the flower from his breast pocket, delicately placing it in the same spot.

“A primrose--I think it suits you quite well.” 

You bring a hand up, briefly brushing over the soft petals before searching his expression for an answer. His smile only grows fonder, and he takes your hand away from the primrose and raises it to his mouth for a tender kiss on your hand. 

“Izuku…”

“If the Lady is willing to accept, may I be so bold as to call upon her tomorrow?”

One hand starts to fiddle with the fabric against your waist, suddenly feeling rather nervous as he continues to hold you other as he awaits your response. Your tongue darts out to lick your suddenly dry lips, a bashful smile forming right after.

“Of course, My Lord.”

“Fantastic,” he whispers, letting your hand fall back to your side as he stares with disbelief at your agreeance--you laugh at his wide-eyed look, “Then let me escort you inside, I do not wish to keep you any longer than you would like.”

You consent, taking his arm as he walks you back into the ballroom. For the first time that night--for the first time ever in fact--your mind is far from the Marquess, and you’re not concerned about it. 

So much so, you don’t notice the distraught-looking man leaving the balcony right before you both, nor the falling alstroemeria right after.

-----

Primrose: These flowers are seen as representations of young love and of feeling as though you can’t live without your lover. 

“...is the most overlooked flower when it comes to romantic flowers...”

[anotheranimestan]

Sweet Intoxication

Tamaki fans!! Come get yo juice!

Tamaki fluff with a lil spice (just a lil)

wc: 3.2k

I can’t be the only one who thinks the Suneater is 🤤 I could write about him for days

Being UA High’s #4 ranked third year, it’s no surprise you’d created a great friendship with the Big Three. You were particularly close with the group’s resident “kitten” as Nejire liked to call him. You met during your first year when you were sat next to each other during class. He was so shy and wouldn’t talk to anyone except Mirio, even despite your many attempts at making conversation.

Until one day, you hurt yourself during practical training and he offered to walk you to the nurses office (much to everyone’s surprise). The entire time he was dead silent with a look of pure embarrassment across his face since you had to cling to him to walk. Once he dropped you off you expected him to leave while Recovery Girl fixed you up. But when you exited the office, there he was. Sitting on the floor waiting for you, his face riddle with concern.

When he spotted you his eyes lit up. “So um-are you okay y/n?”

It was the first time you got to hear his soft voice so clearly. It made your heart swell. You knew right then you wanted to keep him.

Ever after that moment you two stayed close and kept an eye on each other. He was still timid at first but over the years it blossomed into an air-tight friendship. You were practically apart of the Amajiki family after the amount of dinners you had with them. Not a day went by that you two didn’t walk home from school together.

That is until today. You see, during lunch Nejire let it slip that Tamaki had a crush on you when she thought you couldn’t hear. Little did she know you were standing right behind her as you approached the lunch table.

You were so caught off guard and your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with your best friend. His face was pure horrid humiliation. Mirio desperately tried to make light of the situation and pretend it was all a joke but the damage had already been done.

Tamaki immediately fled the cafeteria, knocking over a few first years on his way out.

You were still frozen in place trying to process what was happening. You definitely didn’t expect him to have a crush on anyone, let alone you. He never talked about romantic interests like that. And considering he tells you almost everything on his mind you’d think you’d have some sort of inkling about this.

Your train of thought was quickly interrupted by the horrible thought of how much of a hit to Tamaki’s self-confidence this probably was. He’d become so much stronger and more social. You couldn’t let all his hard work get reversed.

You chased after him but he was gone. Disappeared off the face of the planet for the rest of the day.

You were worried sick and couldn’t think about anything else but finding him.

As soon as the final bell rang you bolted for the Amajiki house. Of course his mother let you in with no hesitations and immediately informed you of his exact location (His room. Where else? That’s where he was always hiding). Although the suspicious look on her face told you that Tamaki’s condition must be bad. He probably came home early and locked himself away without a word. Not completely out of character, let’s be honest, but still it didn’t put you at ease.

You slowly approached his door trying to form some kind of plan to fix this. What was the best tactic though? Should you tell him? Tell him that you’ve secretly been crushing on him this whole time? Since that day at the nurse’s office when he held your hand for the first time? When his voice alone captured your heart. You were sick over the thought. You’d desperately tried to keep it a secret and hadn’t told anyone, even Nejire (for obvious reasons). You were scared that you’d scare him away with your feelings. You’d rather have him as a friend than nothing but that didn’t stop you from constantly dreaming of kissing him or holding hands again or cuddling every night while watching his favorite movies.

You didn’t have an exact plan but you desperately wanted him back so you had to try something. Anything.

The door was locked. You knocked as gently as possible. He was easy to scare.

“Tamaki? It’s me. Let me in.”

You heard a miserable groan from behind the door. “Please leave me alone to die.” He plead from inside. Always one for the dramatics. Something you secretly loved.

“Come on! You’re really going to lock me out like this? A bit dramatic don’t you think?” You insisted, slightly amused.

And just like that the lock clicked open. You let yourself in. It was dark except a little glowing ball lamp in the corner of the room that illuminated everything up with an indigo glow.

He was sitting on his bed against the wall, hugging his knees and burying his face.

You shut the door behind you and stood for a moment. You really just wanted to run over there and cuddle him. Tell him every reason you’re putty for him. But you didn’t want to push him. There was an art to dealing with a mopey Tamaki and you knew it well.

“So how long have you been sitting up here? I hope you at least finally ate some lunch.”

He peeked his head up at you. You were rustling a bag filled with his favorite snacks. You saved these in your locker for moments exactly like these.

Your heart fluttered when you saw those eyes you loved so much. Although his eyebrow were furrowed in embarrassment, still, he looked adorable as ever.

You took this moment as an opening and slowly approached, careful not to spook.

You took the spot directly in front of him. He’d still not managed to look you directly in the eyes.

“Sooo...” This is where you had no game plan left.

You finally had the chance to feel nervous now that you knew he was okay. Your heart started racing in your chest as the anxiety coursed through your body.

“This is the worst day of my life.” He concluded covering his face again with his hands.

You rolled your eyes. “I think there are worse things.”

“Like what?” He said like he was proving a point.

“Like...” You exhaled and gave your honest answer without thinking. “losing your best friend.”

He groaned again. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, y/n!”

Your head tilted. “What?”

“I can never talk to you again now.” The pure teenage agony in his voice was ridiculous.

You giggled. “You’re talking to me right now, dummy.”

“And now you’re laughing at me.” He leaned his head back against the wall in distress.

You reached up and grabbed one of his hands, pulling it away from his face.

“I’ll be very offended if you stop talking to me.” You inform him with humor in your tone.

He looked down at you finally. You were breaking through.

“But...aren’t you weirded out?” He was grimacing at the horrible cafeteria memory that had been replaying nonstop in his mind.

You laughed.

“No more weirded out than usual.” You poke him in the stomach. He was aggressively ticklish so he jumped and grabbed your hand instinctively. Now you could see his whole face again and you were so relieved. You missed it.

His eyes were trained on your hands and he nervously played with your fingers. He did this a lot and it always sent butterflies flying in your stomach.

“You ran out the cafeteria so fast you didn’t even stay for my reaction. Also, those first years are gonna be looking for revenge tomorrow.”

He cracked a tiny smile.

“So...what is your reaction?”

The nerves were really electric now. You almost panicked. Were you really about to admit to your long time crush just how head over heels you were for him?

You were silent for a while which didn’t put Tamaki at ease. He was sure you were going to reject him. You were way out of his league. You were heavenly and pure beauty in his eyes. You could make him warm just by smiling at him that’s how much he loved your aura. How could you be into a loser like him. He could barely stand up straight next to you and the other members of the Big Three. You didn’t know it but right under the bed you sat on he had a hidden a sketch book filled with his drawings of you. Or at least attempts as he called them. He could never capture the curl of your eyelashes or the soft slope of your neck quite right. And the lips. They were always off. Yours had this perfect kissable quality to them that he wished he could experience rather than just draw onto paper.

His pining was interrupted by your sharp inhale as you began to answer. He looked at you under his thick lashes, dying to hear your response. It made your cheeks burn and the words get caught in your throat. Your mind must have overheated because it completely shut down and your body acted on its own.

You didn’t say a word. You just pulled his legs down from against his body and climbed onto him. You wrapped your arms and legs completely around his body like a teddy bear and squeezed him tight.

At first he was stunned but quickly recovered and hugged you back. Your hair was completely covering his face but it was comforting being indulged in your familiar scent of shampoo.

You two confided in each other for a long moment. No words could express what you were trying to say.

After a while you pulled back to look at him. Big mistake. The soft glow of the rich indigo light made him look dream-like. Suddenly you were picturing all the things you had been imagining doing with him...to him.

He wasn’t blind to the way you were staring at him. Blank eyes lost in thought and lips parted like they wanted something. You looked angelic. Sitting on his lap and holding him tight. You were exactly what he needed.

He knew this could be the moment he’d been waiting for all these years. But of course his usual anxiety was holding him back from experiencing you like he wanted. You were so so perfect. He couldn’t possibly...

Your brain switched on just for a moment to spill out a few incoherent words. “I want...this....you. I’ve been.”

Overwhelmed by your words he finally gave into his desires as his head dipped down into the nook of your neck. His lips hovered over your skin and you felt his hot breath ticking your sensitive spot. You wished he wasn’t so hesitant but you could also easily savor this moment forever. Tamaki was finally satisfying your craving for him.

Your hand rolled up gently into his silky hair and your eyes fluttered shut when he finally made contact.

His lips were so soft and molded perfectly into the curve of your neck. He slowly trailed around your collar bones and up to your ear.

Your face nuzzled into him as he tasted you.

His gentle touch made your heart swell and bespelled your body to curl into him more and more.

His tongue began grazing the tender skin he’d laid the ground work on. Dragging circles around your sweet spots and sealing them with kisses. His warm breath sending chills through your through your muscles.

The sweet rhythm of his breathing, his snug hold on your waist and the vibrating hums of enjoyment resounding in his chest...

He was mesmerizing. This little Suneater easily held you in a trance like it was nothing and without even knowing it. Your body was soft like dough, molding into him as you succumbed to his warmth. Your head had fallen limp to the side so he could access as much as he desired.

His voice was thick like honey as he shyly spoke into your ear. “You...taste really good.”

Your eyes were still locked shut, under hypnosis but a smile spread across your face.

“Does that mean one of your limbs is going to turn into me?” You said with a drunk little giggle.

He noticeably shrunk under your words. “Please don’t tease me. You’re making me so nervous already.” He cried desperately.

Your eyes finally cracked open to look at him properly. His face was wrapped in conflict and self-doubt as usual.

So many responses flashed through your mind but only one managed it’s way past your lips. There was truly only one thing you wanted to say anyways. “Can you kiss me please?”

You needed more of him, his previous performance already had you hooked and aching.

Red flush spread across his cheekbones and the tips of his pointy ears. His gaze fell under as he considered something. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. I’m honestly surprised I’m even getting the chance.”

As if you weren’t already deep under his spell, his words managed to further melt you like butter.

His voice was dark velvet. A sharp contrast to his normal shaky tone. “I just want to ask...do you really like me?”

“Tamaki...forget like...I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Your words slipped out of your mouth but it was like hearing them underwater. You were so detached from reality in this moment. Just pure bliss was conducting your movements while your mind was on hiatus.

His red washed face turned bashful as he tried to comprehend your words. He couldn’t stop a cute little grin from spreading across his face.

Before he could recover enough to verbally respond, your thumb placed itself on his bottom lip that was still lightly swollen from exploring your neck. The weight of your hand pulled it down to expose his pearly white bottom teeth.

This pouty look made him even more appealing, your mouth was practically watering at the handsome sight before you.

He acknowledged your hungry look as his invitation and his pouty lip puckered around the pad of your thumb. He placed kisses on each of your fingers and finally your knuckles before he pulled you close to him.

The movement wafted some of his cologne into your nose and just like that you were drunk on him again. He could have you.

His lips pressed into yours and it was like your whole world came to fruition. You realized then just how badly you’d wanted this. He trapped your bottom lip and gently sucked letting his tongue start it’s magic again.

Your arms contracted around his neck to pull him as close as possible and he respectively deepened his kiss.

He nibbled on your lip just enough for butterflies to start flapping around on your chest. Just when you think you’ve hit sensory overload he whips out something new. You already identified kissing him as your new addiction before your first kiss was even over.

His confidence was slowly building as he became more familiar with the curves of your mouth. Assessing exactly what you were liking by the barely audible gasps of euphoria you were making.

He strung you along for a while like this, each next move being more endearing than the last until finally he pulled away to give your lungs a chance to pull in some air. Obviously you didn’t want oxygen right now but at least you got to be intoxicated by some more of his scent.

“You’re so pretty.” He mused as his eyes glazed over your features. “And—and your lips are really soft.”

Suddenly a little self-consciousness washed over you. You weren’t used to his compliments like that. You accommodated this by nuzzling your face into his. Your lips were drawn to his cheek and you littered kissed all over, using your other hand to trace his jawline. He closed his eyes so he could focus on your touch. It was sending him over an edge having you on him like this. You felt his breathing deepen as you started gently sucking on the nook of his neck. Your hand fell and started exploring his chest. He didn’t look it but he was concealing muscle under his baggy shirts and you were dying to feel them.

Just when your teeth grazed the red blood pooled spot you’d been working on, a soft moan escaped his lips. He was lost under your control.

Without warning he shifted you down on your back with ease. Taking care to support your head as you fell onto the pillow.

He crawled on top of you between your legs and supported his weight on his forearms.

This sudden bold streak was really turning you on.

He spared no time as he tugged your shirt collar down just a bit to expose that sensitive part of your neck again that he just loved so much.

His tongue teased it with a few gentle circles before his mouth came down instense and started sucking.

Normally this sort of thing would hurt but you were so entranced that it only felt like a rush of intense pleasure. You ran your fingers through his hair encouraging him to do exactly what you suspected he was doing. You squirmed gently under his heavy body as he targeted your neck. Your hands slipped under his shirt and you got to feel the smooth skin over his broad back muscles which contracted as he moved.

Suddenly you let out a little squeal as the pleasure turned to a little shooting pain. He snapped out of it and brought his face back to yours. Nose to nose.

You glanced down at his work to see a little red bruise the size of a coin. For some reason you loved the idea of Tamaki giving you a little mark.

“Sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You bit your lip, his concerned face was so cute. It reminded you of that day so long ago when you first realized you wanted him.

“Put another one.” You said only half joking.

He laughed nervously. You took his face in both your hands. Today couldn’t have gone more perfectly.

“I didn’t reply before but...I want you too.” He mews with soft eyes.

Just when you think your body is completely melted, he finds one more spot he missed.

He placed a few more gentle honeyed kisses on your lips before anyone could say anything else.

But much to your dissatisfaction, you heard Mrs. Amajiki call for dinner. You were prepared to aggressively reject this interruption but Tamaki’s smile broke your resolve.

He tucked some hair behind your ear as he spoke again after what felt like hour had passed since the last time. “Can we do this again like...soon?”

He was aggressively adorable you could barely stand it. You merely nodded in response you couldn’t possibly form any coherent words right now.

You laid there, trying to unmelt yourself with little success. You could only gaze at your little Suneater with twinkling admiration in your eyes as he lifted you to stand up in his arms.

His new love bite was still exposed on your neck. He pulled your sweater up to cover it and kissed it through fabric as he muttered a few more quiet apologies. You immediately started thinking of ways you could try to permanently keep it on your skin.

You eventually walk down to dinner together holding hands, fingers interlocked. Yea...he was definitely your new addiction.

~~

Thanks for reading 🥰

[betweenthepages]

Hold Me, Love Me; Dean Forester x Male! Reader

Warnings ⚠️ - mentions of rape, sexual assault

Summary: Dean has difficulty finding a mate due to being different to most omegas. But on one faithful night, he finds someone who will accept him for his differences and give him the life he deserves.

Word count: 3218

Being an omega wasn’t easy. You were the lowest in society, had the least power. If you were unmated, you had to deal alphas staring you down everywhere you went, pure hunger and lust in their eyes. It was sickening. However if you were Dean Forester, life was twice as difficult. Everyone figured he’d present as an alpha, with his steady build and towering height. When he was revealed to be an omega, there were mixed reactions. His friends and family were surprised, but they would accept him no matter what. On the other hand, he got looks of disgust from the townspeople. Omegas were meant to be small, pretty. Not like him.

Dean wished he had a mate. Someone to love him, take care of him and hopefully be the father of his future children. And if he found his soulmate, he’d finally be spared from men whistling at him on the streets or constantly looking over his shoulder while on a late night walk. No one would dare touch a mated omega. There were too many stories of alphas going on a possessive rage when another alpha dare even look at their mate for too long, sometimes it lead to death. Dean was stronger than most omegas, thank god for that but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Unfortunately, the chances of him finding an alpha were slim. No one could love someone like him, or at least that’s what he thought. Even though Dean’s body was different, his personality was very omega-like, something alpha’s would swoon over. He was shy and timid, easily startled. He had a look of innocence in his eye, which increased the common desire to wreck him. He was well mannered and had such a kind soul, always willing to help anyone who needed it. His heart was simply too big for his chest. Of course people took advantage of that sometimes, but he didn’t let a couple mishaps ruin his sweet nature.

Dean stared at the calendar on the wall, his face paling. His heat was in a week. And he was out of suppressants. Panic took over him as he realised he was supposed to start taking them today, as you have to take them every night a week before your heat for them to work. Shit shit shit. His eyes darted to the clock. 11:15 at night. Going out this late by himself was a death wish, but he had no choice. Going through a heat by yourself without medication was unbearable, and he wasn’t willing to go through that. He looked at his outfit in the mirror, making sure his clothes were baggy enough to cover every inch of his body, anything that might tempt alphas.

He took a deep breath, wiping his hands on his jeans. It was just a walk around the block to the pharmacy. Not too far. He’ll be there and back in no time. The icy wind brought goosebumps to his skin. There wasn’t anyone on the street at this hour, at least not anyone in sight. Sometimes alphas would hide in bushes or alleyways and pounce on unsuspecting omegas. The thought made him shudder. He increased his pace, following the light of the dimly lit street lamps.

So far so good. Just a little more and- fuck. There was a dimly lit alleyway he had to pass to get to the store. His blood ran cold. Fear churned in his gut staring into the dark abyss. Anything- anyone could be in there. Was he willing to take the chance? Come on you idiot, you’re just being paranoid. What are you, five? Just walk past it, no big deal. He was brave. He needed those meds, and he has to take the risk. He screwed his eyes shut, walking as fast as he could, ignoring his heart pounding in his chest. When he opened his eyes, he realised the alleyway was behind him. Unimaginable relief filled his chest. Of course there was no one there. He was just scared for nothing.

Suddenly, a pair of footsteps paced behind him. “Hey boys, look what we’ve got here.” His relief was short lived. Very, very short lived. His heart dropped. Four more pairs of footsteps followed. There were more of them. Dean’s first instinct was to run. But his legs felt weak, like he was frozen in place. He was rather agile, but there was a whole group of them. Surely one of them would catch up if he tried to escape. He turned around hesitantly, seeing five males about his age standing there, eyeing him hungrily. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out this late, hm?” The one in the middle, their leader seemingly, spoke up. Dean wished he could wipe off that disgusting smirk on his face.

“P-Please-” he took a step back, “what do you want? Money? I’ll give it you just leave me alone.” He felt tears well up. No matter how much he tried to reason with them, it was useless. “I think we’ve found our prey tonight.” He said calmly, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Get him.” It all happened so fast. Before he could process it, there were hands all over him, dragging him by the shirt, plunging him into the darkness. No one would find him here, no one would hear his cries for help. Besides, there wouldn’t be anyone else out this late to interfere. This couldn’t be happening. He prayed this was some nightmare and he’d wake up soon. But that wasn’t the case. He was truly helpless.

You sighed, looking up into the pitch black sky. No stars tonight. Pity, you usually liked stargazing in the park at this hour. You usually took long midnight strolls to clear your head. It worked too. An odd sense of peace filled the town’s atmosphere at this hour. Well, the atmosphere lasted until you caught a whiff of the air. A strong scent filled your nose, similar to stench of rain. Your eyes widened when you realised what it was. The smell of an omega in distress. And judging by how prominent it was, the poor thing was in a lot of danger. Most people would’ve turned back and went home, not wanting to get in any trouble. But you couldn’t stand the thought of turning around and acting like nothing happened when someone’s life could be on the line. Doesn’t matter what their status was, they needed help.

You sniffed the air again and you ran to the direction it was coming from. You really hoped you got there in time before something bad happened. Thankfully it wasn’t far, just around the street corner. As you got closer, you realised it was coming from a dark alleyway. Oh. You had a pretty good guess of what was happening right now. You’d heard countless stories of omegas being attacked in places like this. It boiled your blood thinking some alphas could take advantage of others just because of their biological status, something no one could control.

Loud whimpers filled your ears, and in the darkness you could make it a few bodies surrounding a large figure. Your fist clenched. Red filled your vision. It was all a blur. You ran up to one of the guys, knocking him out with one punch. Two others tried to jump on you, but you sent them flying to the wall. You swore you heard a crack at the impact. “G-Guys let’s go.” The group leader figured messing with you wasn’t a good idea. They didn’t hesitate to flee, picking up their unconscious friend along the way.

Now they were out of the way, you had to deal with the figure hunched over on the ground. “Hey-” you reached out a hand, but the person panicked, scambling against the wall. Fear pheromones wafted in the air. You crouched down to their level, slowly inching towards the trembling form. “Shh, I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be scared.” Your voice sounded so soft, so genuine, Dean looked up to make eye contact.

Something shifted in you when you gazed into those chocolate orbs. You couldn’t explain the feeling, exactly, only it was intense. And warm. All your senses screamed to you, ‘mate!’ You were stunned. He wished he inflicted more damage on those boys before they left. This was your mate, sitting here in a cold dark alleyway with the living daylights scared out of him. Dean experienced the feeling as well, only afterwards he felt shame. His alpha found him like this, in a pitiful state almost taken by other people. He was weak, easy to use. He whimpered, making your heart clench. Your mate instinct made you want to comfort him, take him into your arms and tell him everything’s alright, that you were here and no one was going to hurt him. But you couldn’t. Not now, at least. The boy had almost been attacked, and now he found his mate. He needed to process the situation.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” You asked gently, hoping the petname would coax him a little. “D-Dean. My name’s Dean.” He sniffled. “I’m (Y/N). Listen, do you want to go back to my place? It’s not too far from here. I won’t try anything, I promise. It’s probably closer than your and I suppose you might need some company tonight.” You looked at him hopefully. “Yes please.” He agreed quietly. You practically saved his life. And you were his mate. He wanted to be near you. “Are you hurt?” You asked worriedly, looking for any injuries. He shook his head no, there were just a couple bruises here and there, nothing too serious. “You’re shivering,” you frowned, wrapping your jacket around him. His eyes widened. He was completely enveloped in your scent. You smelt like cinnamon and honey. It put his mind to ease, calming him immediately.

You took his hand and helped him to his feet, extending an arm to him. He gladly took it, walking close to you. He’d just met you, but you made him feel so safe. You observed his facial features under the moonlight. He was so beautiful. He didn’t look like any other omega you’ve seen before though. He a bit taller than you, admittedly a subtle blow to your ego. But it was cute. The walk home was relatively quiet, understandably so. He was still a little shaken up from what happened, you couldn’t expect to him to act calm.

Your apartment was rather large even though you lived by yourself. You saw Dean looking around the place in awe, which had you biting back a smile at how adorable he was. You thoroughly enjoyed the thought of having him around often. Newly mated couples tended to move in together one or two days after they met because being seperated wasn’t good for their mental state. “Sit down.” You motioned to the coach. He did as told with his hands in his lap, looking up at you shyly through his brown locks. You took your place next to him, wondering where to go from here. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” You asked. He shook his head no. “There’s some soup in the fridge I can heat up for you. You can go shower in the meantime. I’ve got some clothes that might fit. How does that sound?” He nodded. “Thank you.” He said quietly. “No problem.” You smiled back, motioning him to follow you.

The hot water was therapeutic in easing Dean’s tense muscles. An almost disaturous night was slowly turning out for the better. He had a mate- an extremely handsome alpha. The thought made him giddy. Plus you were so, so nice. So far you’d welcomed him to your home and let him borrow your clothes and made him food. You were able to protect him. Nonetheless, he didn’t have time to swoon now, not when dinner had yet to be served. He admired himself in the mirror in the clothes he picked for you. Just a simple black hoodie and sweatpants. They were a little big but he loved them because they were yours.

You had his back turned to him when he entered the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove. You felt a presence behind you, your eyes landing on the omega. “Food’s almost done.” You said gently. He nodded but stayed put, interested in seeing you cook. “Can I watch you?” Dean asked, fiddling with his sleeve. “Sure thing.” Your next action took him by surprise. He gasped as you lifted him effortlessly and placed him on the countertop, his long legs dangling off the edge.

“So, Dean... How old are you?” You asked, wanting to know more about the boy who’d hardly spoken a full sentence the whole night. “I’m seventeen.” Ah, you’d be just one grade above him. “Oh, I’m eighteen. Do you work anywhere? What do major in?” “I work in a café. My dream job would be to work with animals though. I’m a biology major.” You hummed. The room went silent for a bit. Dean felt like the conversation was all about him and he wasn’t cooperating enough. You’d done so much for him so far and he couldn’t get a word out. He was nervous. Nervous about saying the wrong thing, nervous about rambling. He knew deep down you wouldn’t make fun of him, but his anxiety said otherwise.

“Soup’s ready.” You said, carrying two bowls to the dining table, Dean following suite. The two of you ate in silence, stealing occasional glances at each other. “It’s really good.” Dean said. You smiled warmly. “Glad you like it.” You were genuinely trying your best to make him comfortable and get him to open up. You didn’t want your mate feeling anxious around you.

He helped you with the dishes and before you knew it, it was time for bed. Despite his protests you insisted on taking the couch. As much as you wanted to hold him and cuddle all night, you respected his boundaries. Currently you were seated on the couch since you wanted to discuss something with him. “Dean, do you want to talk about what happened tonight? You don’t have to, but it might make you feel better.” You asked gently, squeezing his hand. Tears welled up in his eyes recounting earlier events. The sheer terror he felt at that moment was indescribable.

“I-I was going to the pharmacy for some medication,” he sniffled, “and those alphas came out of nowhere. I know it my fault for going out that late b-but I really needed those pills and...” If you’d never felt the urge to kill someone, you did now. But you needed to control your anger and comfort your mate. “Sweetie no, this isn’t your fault at all. You shouldn’t have to avoid going out and night just because some bastard alphas can’t keep it in their pants.” He looked up at you, eyes bloodshot with tear tracks running down his cheeks, a sight that made your heart clench. “Can I have a hug alpha?”

“Of course you can.” You brought him to your welcoming arms, Dean burying his face into your chest. You rested your chin on his head, faintly catching the whiff of strawberry shampoo. “Thank you. For everything. For saving me, for letting me stay with you...” His voice came muffled from your shirt. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe with me now. I’ll protect you.”

━━━━━━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━━━━━━

Panic filled Dean when he woke up in a stranger’s bed, unable to recognise anything in the room. Where was he? How did he get here? The bed sheets smelt awfully familiar. Slowly, everything that happened last night came rushing back to him. It occurred to him that he was lying in your bed. His heart swelled at the thought. However, he would prefer if the space beside him wasn’t empty.

You had just started on breakfast by the time he got to the kitchen. He offered to help out and the two of you chatted pleasantly as the golden rays of morning sun peeked through the curtains. You felt joy knowing he was warming up to you. Despite the short period of time you’d known each other, you felt like you’ve known him your whole life. It wasn’t awkward, there was no hesitation from either ends. It felt right.“(Y/N).” You hummed to signal you were listening, not taking your eyes off the frying pan. “You know how I told you I went out to get medication yesterday? They were heat suppressants.”

You turned to him, jaw dropping in shock. Out of all things to come out of his mouth, that was the last of what you expected. There was no problem of course- just short notice. “Oh. You want me to help you through it?” You wiggled an eyebrow suggestively, liking the way his face flushed at your words. “Is that really all you can think of?” Dean whined. “Well it is important to discuss wether I’ll be around or not. Do you want me to help you through it?” Being around an omega in heat was irresistible for an alpha. Even the faintest smell of slick can them into hormonal overdrive. “Mhm. I trust you.” He said. He wanted to be your first, last and everything in between.

On the third day you marked each other. Marking was a rather intimate action, it was the way of claiming someone as yours. They tended to be on the neck where it was visible to everyone, and you had to take care of them for a few days while it was sore, or else you’d risk infection and a deformed mark. It was Dean’s first time going into public since that night so you could help him move some of his stuff to your place. Let’s just say you weren’t weren’t taking any risks when it came to the safety of your omega. He’d be lying if he said your protectiveness wasn’t a massive turn on.

Day five was when the pre-heat began. The pre-heat period was when an omegas body prepared to go into heat. Excessive clinginess and need for affection weren’t too uncommon either. Dean would crawl into your lap at the most random times, whether you were working on an essay or watching TV. He wore your hoodies around the house, scented everything you owned. Cuddling was a necessity. Sometimes he’d get you to lay on his lap, massaging your scalp and playing with your hair as you nuzzled his stomach. Good morning and goodnight kisses were a must. You two started sleeping in the same bed, but you didn’t always cuddle. On nights where you’d slept a good distance opposite each other you’d find him snug in your arms when you woke up.

However, despite his bodily needs, Dean still respected your personal space and gave you time to yourself though he was constantly aching for your touch. Never overstepping, never being the source of your frustration. You couldn’t begin to fathom how you got lucky enough to be mated with someone as kind and warm-hearted as your babyboy. Fate was good.

https://ko-fi.com/sunehri_c

[hitoshisbabygirl]

WHEWWWW CHILEEE 🥵😳👀

After a certain conversation I saw from the lovely @mythiccheroacademia about a bass voice induced/hood(ish) Tamaki I HAD to write this idea. I feel like he’s still be shy but let the right one say down outta pocket shiii...the black force energy is ACTIVATED and he’s not backing down from a fight 😌

So I write this up , I hope it’s okay sskksndkdn it’s really my first official black!reader with a character 🥺 (also me admitting how much I love Cece and her works with this here 👉🏾👈🏾)

Paring(s) : Tamaki Amajiki x Black!reader

Word count: roughly 2.4K

Warnings ; LANGUAGE LANGUAGE LANGUAGE. Just some explicit language of tama telling off hoes ✨ jealous and hot under the collar tamaki of sorts 😌 yes tamaki is older, they’d both graduated and currently in a pro hero company

Don’t play with me// T. Amajiki

It was just a day out with your loving boyfriend Tamaki. The two of you had been dating for a while. Now in the summer of no classes and no extra hero work to do , the two of you decided to do way more together; dates, game nights, other festivities you name it the shy boy went along with it. To the surprise of you both, your two cousins and big brother decided to have a surprise trip to Japan to see you, and to meet the man who stole your heart. They were rough around the edges, tattoos as far as the eyes could see, but to you, they were who you grew up with, the fun and adrenaline filled things y’all did made up your childhood and life until you transferred to U.A wanting to strengthen your own quirk and be a hero , plus you always wanted to visit japan, you being prepared already, almost outstanding in your Japanese, and loving the culture you could experience first hand there.

And that’s where you met a very shy but handsome Tamaki Amajiki. Surprising most around him the two of you hit it off, understanding eachother and quietly talking to yourselves about whatever topic that came up. It was evident to his friends, especially his best friend Mirio that he had fallen for the exchange student from across seas, who stole his heart and made him more confident. Getting that confidence boost made him ask you out, and now you two were a happy couple of 2 years, going on to a lifetime.

Which brings us to the current time, it too you at least a half hour for him to come from your shared room to meet his other family to be. After the first tedious round of talking , the boys were getting along, Tamaki trying (and failing) to fit in with your more aggressive brother. Sighing you called out to them “Aye, I’m gonna get some food, want anything?” With calls of ‘nah’ and full meals you sighed, taking down who wanted what and leaving . They planned to be here a week or two, and that alone wasn’t bad. They just could be...hot under the collar and with them having explosive quirks, you didn’t want a fight breaking out from someone looking at their “little sister” wrong.

The weeks went by too fast, the five of you having a lot of fun together, exploring and just catching up on what you missed back home. Giving you a hug each of them told you how much they loved you and would be back while you were still on break. Giving your brother a suspicious look he laughed “ Don’t worry , mama’s coming up too, she misses her baby” he said as you laughed “ I was just curious on how you got the money to keep coming back and forth here to see me” “I got that promotion at the construction company, more money, and way better hours” he laughed as you gave him a bigger hug “and you’re just now telling me as you leave, you ass” giving you one last look he smiled, throwing a hand up at your usually timid boyfriend “I’ll see you later G ight? Don’t forget what we talked about and what we taught you yeah?” He said as Tamaki did the same back , giving a surprising “I got it” back to him as they walked down the driveway to their cab. “What did he tell you?” You questioned as he gave you a uncharacteristic smirk, kissing your forehead “don’t worry about it sweetheart”

As the next few vists happened throughout the year you realize tamaki was becoming more and more like your brother, less timid and more dominant over conversations, but your soft and loving tamaki never left, if anything it got stronger. He took you out to the mall to shop, wanted to do more outside dates and loved picking out cute outfits with you. He enjoyed the ink adorning your skin even more than he did when he first saw it, asking for you to help him pick out something for him eventually. “Okay who are you and what did you do with tamaki?” You questioned one day when he came home, giving you your usual kiss as he came in the door. Except it was nothing like you had before, he put his hand under your chin and tilted you until you were in your tippy toes to keep the kiss as deep as he started, his other hand dangerously low on your back as he gave your ass a squeeze, chuckling as you gasped, pulling away with a smug look “Hey doll what’s up? How’s your day been?” He asked as he slid past you, Ignoring the shocked look on your face “Tamaki how are you feeling? Are you alight you’ve never been this..forward” tilting his head he came over to where you were , standing in your shared kitchen with your bottom lip in your mouth. Grinning he pulled it from your teeth, giving you another peck “You shouldn’t be teasing your bottom lip, that’s for me to do” he whispered as you gasped, burying you face into his wide chest. “Nothings wrong with me sweetheart, I just..realized how valuable you are to me. You’ve always been but...I know to what level of a queen I have as my girlfriend yknow?” The iconic shy Tamaki made an appearance , making you look up to him. He was shy but he was confident behind what he was saying. “It’s not a bad thing..I like it” you admitted as you traced his cheek “Good, Heyo don’t think I’ll be changing again”

This year for a piece of your summer break you and Tamil decided to go visit back to the states, the two of you loving and hating the heat wave that hit you coming off of the plane. Once again you were with your brother and only one of your cousins this time, visiting your mom and having family cookouts. Planning to stay a month you two had some time to spend together and with your family. Your nieces and nephews loved Tamaki, the fact he could make his limbs into what he ate made them love to try and have him pick them up with his tentacles the most. Your mom loved him and everyone had accepted him as your husband to be.

On one of the hottest days y’all experienced there, you decided to wear one of the cutest outfits you had bought, a two piece ; a crop top and a mini skirt. Both pieces black with blue butterflies over them. As you sat in the living room waiting for your boyfriend you heard footsteps from upstairs, being greeted with a sight you wish to burn on your eyelids. A tank top , the infamous, grey Nike joggers and black forces. A whole meal stood in front of you. Holding in a gasp and a subconscious lip but you cleared your throat, giving him a reassuring smile “well look at you, you really are turning into my brother” you joked as he gave you a shy smile “ I wanted to wear something I’m not used to..I hate things clinging to me..unless it’s you of course “ he teased back as you wrapped your arms around his torso, standing on your tiptoes as you gave his cheek a kiss “you look good..really good..I might have to fight the girls around the block if they look at you wrong.” You warned as he smirked, wrapping a large arm around your shoulder “don’t worry they have nothing on you baby..”

Heading out to get some lunch you fanned yourself with your hand, the heat really getting to you as you stood in line. Tamaki when you get drinks, promising to meet you back at the circle so you two could heard to the nearby shopping plaza, wanting to get some more things before going to get some games to play later with your family members who planned to come and hangout before one of their games came on that night. You and Tamaki were planning to just be upstairs and watching your own movie by then.

Hearing someone clear their throat you valves over to see a shorter, chocolate man staring at you, a wide grin on his face as he licked his lips “whatsup baby how are you today?” Knowing how this was gonna turn out you gave him a polite smile and a quick “I’m fine” before going to look around to see if you saw that familiar tuff of indigo walking around “Soo..what's a fine ass girl like you doing in this heat alone? You’re [. ]’s sister right?” He continued as you shook your head yes, not giving him a thought as you stared at your phone “You aint gotta be shy , your brother knows me. I’ve always saw you and that ass wander around when you used to be here, now you moved away to some other country what was it again? China ? That Asian land aint meant for a sista like you, they don’t even got enough to please you with unlike me” sighing you started to correct him “I live in Japan for one, two I have a boyfriend and three don’t you still have something unresolved with that one girl? Ion need nothing from no one that isn’t my boyfriend thanks” You snapped back as he laughed, comfortably putting an arm on your shoulders “Oh who ol’ girl Ki? Nah I ain’t messing with her and what , you got you a little Japanese man , what is he and his short ass gon do yo me huh? Don’t think that you having one of those short Kung Fu doing ass gon do anything to a real man now baby, you’ve been eating too much rice huh?”

Before you could open your mouth you felt an arm wrap around your waist and move in front of you. Now staring at the strong back of your boyfriend you went to stop him before your mouth dropped open “And who said ya ass could keep talking to her huh?” Without a stutter in sight Tamaki snapped back to the slightly shorter and smaller male “ And who the hell are you?” “The same man you wanna talk about being a short ass Asian” with a look of interest you watched your boyfriend stand up for you “Ooohhh I get it , you think you can just step up to anyone and they not be scared of you huh? Mann you aint in Japan anymore boy , you ain’t gon do shit” the guy barked back, making Tamkai raise an eyebrow and laugh, looking him up and down before squatting down some to match the arguing guys height “At least I can reach my girlfriend, even she can look down at you” which a few ‘oohs’ and ‘damns’ coming from the bystanders the boy gave him a snarl as he tried to come for Tamaki again “she wants some real dick not some little pepper in her walls” and with that Tamaki gave him a even harder laugh, walking until they were too close for your comfort, before you could stop him he gave his last and seemingly damaging blow “But I wonder who’s dick she’s bouncing on and screaming for more from hm? Oh trust me I know how to dick her down and then some”

With his words he reached over and pulled you to his hip by your ass, making the boy give up with a huff , walking away as the others around him boo’d and made fun of him, praising Tamaki as he gave his own satisfied smirk, dapping up some of the guys who came up to him.

Pulling you from the line he left his hand at your hips as your jaw still was open “Where in the hell did you learn that?? Damnit [. ] he must’ve taught you” you huffed as he looked you over , licking his lips as he kissed your cheek. “Mhn..your brother said defend what you love so..I simply did that. He had no business thinking he could step to my girl and hit on her from thinking he was good enough to talk to a queen, my queen at that. Shit ain’t sweet but I respect myself and you too much to fight some low life” he finished as you bit your lip, liking this side of him “Well shit...aren’t you the man Tamaki?” He laughed as he kissed you, biting where you were tugging on your bottom lip to make you let out a squeal. Pulling away he gave a lopsided smile “I’ma keep true to what I said too, when we get home I’m making sure you know I meant what I just said back there, no one tries to take what’s mine, especially with mediocre ass attempts with dick” he growled as you stuttered giving him a wide eyed look. Maybe tamaki was less of the baby you’ve come to see him as. Once you got home, Tamaki made sure you knew how much he loved you, making true on the words he threw to that guys he got into it earlier

[nctseren]

❝ For a long time, love was unattainable for her. She wrote, sang and dreamed about it, but she had never been truly in love.

The truth is that, and although she denies it, Kang Sohee is a hopeless romantic and she always has been. She often dreamed of meeting the right person and doing everything right so that love would last... and not fade like her parents' love.

However, love is strange and it does not come easy. She has learned that you can meet thousands of people and yet none of them will make you feel the things that you are supposed to feel.

She has also learned that you can mistake love. And as much as it hurts and breaks your soul, there are people you were born to love, and there are others you were not.

So, Seren doesn't have much experience in romance. And she's slowly learning that love and infatuation are two different things, that it doesn't have to hurt, that it should make you feel happy, and that you don't go looking for the right person, because eventually fate brings you together. ❞

⟶crush list

—WANG YONG

❝ I'm too shy to tell you how I feel.

So I'll hide behind timid smiles and soft hellos.

I'm afraid if I ask you: "what do you think of me? " your reply will be "I don't" ❞

duration of crush: 2014 — 2015

relationship: close friends, one side crush

current status: they haven't spoken in a long time but she still cares for him

their things: practicing together, sharing chocolates, him giving her books and then the next week sharing opinions about them, eating together all the time

playlist: kid in love by shawn mendes & u smile by justin bieber

Wang Yong came to SM Entertainment in late 2012 and Lee Taeyong quickly took care of him under his wing. He was quite a popular trainee, not only because of his looks, but also because of his great talent for dancing, despite his young age. He was to the younger ones what Kang Seulgi was to Sohee.

Wang Yong was a sweet guy, it was inevitable for girls not to have a crush on him, and anyone in his place would take advantage of it, but not him. He was focused on doing what he had to do: training hard. That's the reason why his only friends for a long time were only Taeyong and Hansol.

Kang Sohee (long before she was known as Seren) officially met him in late 2013, after watching him practice. They did not become friends right away, since it was not easy for him to open up to other people. However, when she became close to Taeyong, they inevitably had to become friends. And then they connected thanks to dancing, something they were both passionate about. They went from being acquaintances to partners who practiced together to friends. Then it was not only Wong Yong, Lee Taeyong and Ji Hansol, now it was also Kang Sohee.

2014 was a rough year for her, starting from the loss of her grandparents to learning that she was not going to debut with Red Velvet. It was the most difficult year for her in all that time locked up, but her friends were with her. And he didn't go unnoticed, no matter how hard he tried. He always carried an extra portion of food for her, left her books that he thought she would like and always pretended not to learn the choreography so that she could teach him and in that way distract her mind by doing what she likes the most.

It really wasn't difficult to like Wang Yong, he was sweet and a good boy. Soon she found herself thinking that she really liked the way he wrinkled his nose when he laughed, or how his eyes sparkled when someone complimented him and, most of all, the way he tilted his head when he was confused. And then every time he looked at her she felt something in her stomach (and no, she had thought the first time she felt it, it can't be diarrhea), her cheeks would blush and it was difficult for her to keep look at him.

He was her crush for a few months and suddenly their interactions were shy smiles and sharing chocolates. Until he was no longer making her feel like she was flying. He meant a lot to her because not only he was her first butterflies in her stomach, he was also one of her close friends and one of the most supportive.

Sometimes she still thinks about him, what is he doing? how is he doing? what it would have been like if he had debuted in NCT instead of her? SM Entertainment did not treat him well, apparently his voice was not good enough, in the future they had told him. All she knows is that he returned to his home in China, and all she hopes is that he's truly happy.

—MARK LEE

❝ There's a boy I like.

He smiles so bright and my heart can't take it.

There's a boy I like.

We both love the same things.

There's a boy I like.

I think about him all the time.

There's a boy I like.

He's my best friend. ❞

duration of crush: 2017 — early 2018

relationship: bandmates, best friends, crush

current status: bandmates, best friends, partners in crime

their things: holding hands, sharing songs, singing, rapping, dancing together, telling jokes, listening to music, trying to teach her basketball, teaching him to play futboll soccer, doing karaoke

playlist: the one that got away by katy perry & walk you home by nct dream & everything has changed by taylor swift & catching feelings by justin bieber & whenever you are by 5sos

For a long time, Mark was the closest thing to a best friend that she had. They practically grew up together (and are still growing). They wouldn't exactly tell each other everything, but they did trust each other. And every day, especially when they missed home, they would get together to tell their funniest childhood stories, and then listen to music for the rest of the time, enjoying each other's company.

Maybe that's what made her have feelings for him. Maybe it was the inside jokes, the laughs, the songs, maybe it was all together.

It was different, of course. It didn't feel at all like her first crush. No, it was definitely stronger, because they were Mark and Seren — everyone was talking about Mark and Seren: NCT's 99 line, best friends.

Liking Mark was a fresh feeling, no discomfort, no obvious blushes, no big butterflies either. No, liking Mark was being at peace. Being comfortable in his presence, hearing him sing, sharing smiles, doing mischief together, it all felt too good... almost like she was born for it.

And maybe she was born to love Mark, but in another life. Because on this one Mark Lee and Kang Sohee were just best friends. And although at nights she sometimes dreamed of his eyes, the same ones that hold thousands of stars, in the morning she reminded herself that nothing could change the friendship they had.

That's one of the reasons why she didn't do anything about it, that and because she didn't want to ruin all their efforts just for a crush.

It was difficult for her, because months passed and she kept thinking about him. Until eventually she stopped seeing him in a romantic way, his hugs stopped making her feel things (things you're not supposed to feel for a friend) and at night his eyes and laughter stopped appearing.

Now that time has passed, she realizes that staying best friends with him is a hundred times better than a possible relationship with him. And she prays, Oh, she prays that Mark Lee's future partner can love and appreciate him as much as he deserves... As much as she could have.

⟶dating list

—MOONBIN

❝ I enjoy our time together. And your laugh, your voice, your kisses. I enjoy you.

We may not be in love and that's okay for us.

Because what matters right now is that we're both having fun. ❞

public knowledge: private (only friends)

duration of relationship: march 2018 — april 2018

relationship: fling

current status: friends

their things: hanging out with friends, kisses, supporting each other, hugs

playlist: we are young by fun feat janelle monaé & locked out of heaven by bruno mars

They met at some awards and immediately they knew there was attraction, so they exchanged phone numbers and soon found themselves talking every single day.

They both knew what it was and what they wanted, to be young and have fun.

Those two months sometimes felt like an eternity, because they genuinely had a good time together. There was always fun, affection and, most importantly, sincerity.

They both knew it was meant to be over, so they enjoyed it.

Having fun with Moonbin felt like riding the drop tower: they weren't afraid of it, they just felt the adrenaline and fun you feel being up there in the air. But just as fast it goes up, it also goes down. And even though in the end you seem to want more, you know enough was enough.

—WOOSEOK

❝ I loved you as Icarus loved the sun — too close, too much. ❞

public knowledge: private for three months until their members found out

duration of relationship: july 2018 — january 2019

relationship: kind of dated, never really had a "tittle"

current status: acquaintances, they don't really talk anymore

their things: secret dates, midnight calls, back hugs, kisses

playlist: sweet creature by harry styles & the scientist by coldplay & the end of love by florence + the machine & it will rain by bruno mars

Kang Sohee and Jung Wooseok were never in love, but they might as well have been.

They met in mid-2018 thanks to a close friend, and the physical attraction was so immense that without thinking they both decided to give it a try. It was all very fast, but the result had been good. They were something, no tittle, yet they didn't care because they were okay with that.

Their relationship was like trying a new dish, they didn't know what to expect: they didn't know if it would be sweet or salty, everything was so different. But they had liked it. They spent a good time together, sometimes hiding from their members, it was a little secret that only the two of them knew.

They loved what they had. Midnight calls, secret dates, just sneaking around their members backs like that. It was exciting and fun. They were young people enjoying themselves.

Until it became real. Too real.

Suddenly they weren't just missing each other's presence, but they craved for their touch and kisses.

It was almost like an obsession. Every time they were together they felt intoxicated. They needed more, they wanted more.

And that wasn't healthy nor they where ready for that.

So, because they cared about each other, they put a stop to it. God knows that if they had stayed together, they would have burned.

—THE8

❝ The Ego asked:

'What is Love? It's too big of a word for me. I don't understand it at times.'

The Soul replied:

'If you understand Kindness

If you understand Respect

If you understand Acceptance

Then you will understand Love.' ❞

public knowledge: private (only members and close friends)

duration of relationship: december 2019 — present

relationship: acquaintances to friends to lovers

current status: in love, best friends

their things: nose, forehead and cheek kisses, showing her his art, painting together, taking pictures, listening to music, dedicating songs, slow dancing, hype man! hype woman!, writing songs about each other, domestic dates

playlist: love someone by lukas graham & ily by the rose & common by zayn & have you ever been in love? by the ivy & love somebody like you by joan & sunday morning by maroon 5 & natural by zayn

Falling for Xu Minghao was like breathing, so natural, so effortless, without realizing it.

They met in 2018 and for a year they were just acquaintances: their bandmate's friend. There were few interactions, maybe greetings and a few smiles. But when she has a very persistent Boo Seungkwan as her best friend, it was only a matter of time before she eventually became friends with the rest of them.

Being friends with Minghao is yellow, like observing the sunset. It's relaxing, enthusiastic, supportive, positivity, happiness...

It was an unexpected friendship but suddenly they were sharing songs, painting together and hanging out a lot more than with their original friends. Soft laughs, little jokes, looks full of adoration — it was so obvious that there was something there, they could feel it and everyone could see it. And still it took almost a year for them to take the risk. Was it really mutual or were they just imagining it?

He was the first to take the step, because even if it was all in his head at least he would be at peace knowing that he tried and didn't just let her go.

It was silly, really, how much they wanted to be together and how much they doubted.

Loving Minghao is comforting, honest, understanding, compassion, teamwork, sometimes overwhelming, and a new feeling that completely scares her because she has never been in love or in a serious relationship, yet she is sure of one thing: discovering those feelings with him was her best decision.

[jamaiskookie]

Yoongi Doesn’t Romance [myg x reader]

✂︎ warnings: excessive cursing, bad writing

✂︎ word count: 6.6k (I meant to write a very short drabble… aHAHHA)

✂︎ genre: it’s.. literally just crack. Good dosing of cheesy romance and overused cliches

✂︎ A/N: it took awhile but we here!!! with a short drabble but still!!! hope you enjoy this cringey fluffy fic full of shameless jimin and shy yoongi- arguably the best yoongi

masterlist asks

✂︎ synopsis: yoongi isn’t great at expressing feelings- especially with how nervous he gets around you. alternatively titled: yoongi sucks at romance

“... and I don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on denying it! You obviously have a crush on him!” You roll your eyes at Namjoon, flicking your index finger at his forehead and watching as he flinches and lets out multiple sounds of pain, which you promptly ignored. 

“I’m denying my crush because he so obviously doesn’t like me back! He hates me, Joon. He literally detests me.” You say, jumping back onto the stained and cluttered couch that occupies most of you and Namjoon’s shared dorm. 

“And I’m telling you that you’re overthinking it,” Namjoon says, chewing on some popcorn. “I don’t think he hates you, you’re just exaggerating things.”  

“I am not!” You protest, swinging your head around to look Namjoon dead straight in the eyes. “He hates me! He practically leaps out of the room whenever I’m around.” Namjoon opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by Taehyung, who is currently seated two feet away on a small thrifted chair. 

“Shhhhhhhh-” His eyes are still fixated on the TV screen, watching the random nature documentary playing that you and Namjoon had long ago abandoned. You and Namjoon both watch Taehyung for a second amusedly as he attempts to stuff popcorn kernels in his mouth and completely misses the mark. You’ll have to remind him to clean up the floor later. 

“But,” Namjoon whispers to you, “Literally every time you aren’t around I swear all he can do is run his mouth on and on about you.” 

“Not true!” You yell, squeaking out a quick apology to Tae, who glared at you for interrupting the segment on apes. Something about how apes can learn languages, but you’re not too sure. “Lies!” You hiss, elbowing Namjoon in the rib. 

“Ow-!” He jumps back, wincing. “Why do you always resort to violence?” You didn’t have an answer to that question, unfortunately. “And I’m not lying! I swear on my bonsai trees he always asks where you are whenever you don’t show up to stuff.” 

“Maybe he just wants to know how much glorious time he has left before he has to face me again.” You offer, tearing open what must be your third dorito family pack of the night. (It’s fine, you’ll burn it off by running to class tomorrow when you’re inevitably late once again.) “Namjoon, face the facts: he only tolerates my presence occasionally because we share a couple of mutual friends. If it weren’t for you and the other guys, he would’ve already started a  hate club for me, I’m sure of it”

Namjoon stared at you exasperatedly, before muttering something that very suspiciously sounded like ‘God you’re such a dumbass’ before taking out his phone to swipe through Tinder, not uttering another word to you. 

Despite Namjoon’s utter and complete lies, you don’t exaggerate anything when it comes to Min Yoongi. Not his hatred towards you, or how he speaks two words maximum every year directed at you, or your massive slight crush that you’ve harboured for him, or how cute he looks with beanies on, or how you almost fainted that one time you saw him playing basketball, or- well, you get it. 

The point is, you can’t acknowledge your crush on Yoongi (Even though everyone around you is fully aware of it) because he seems to completely resent you and your existence for no reason in particular. Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin, and many others insist that he doesn’t hate you as much as you think, but you dismiss their stupid assumptions time and time again. You’d love to believe them, but the evidence and first hand experiences you’ve had says otherwise. 

✂︎

Exhibit A: He seems to avoid you on campus, or anywhere you go. This one is actually quite impressive considering the classes you two share. You’ve never seen someone go so out of their way to ignore someone they don’t like. It’s pretty commemorable. Whenever you sit in the same row as him during a lecture, he’ll move seats. One time you waved at him at a coffee shop and he just strangely blushed, and bolted out of there faster than you could say ‘rejected’. Taehyung ended up saying it, all while laughing his ass off. (You made him pay for your coffee that day.) Everytime you head over to Jimin’s dorm, he’ll just blankly stare at you two and march straight towards his room and lock himself in there until you leave. He even gulpes and swerves away when he sees you in a hallway. 

You know, that awkward thing when you’re heading the same direction so obviously you’d try and be slightly friendly and wave or something but then he’ll just suddenly turn around, navigating through the crowd of angry, late students and facing all that social pressure just so he doesn’t have to waVE BACK AT YOU- okay, maybe you aren’t as over this incident as you thought. 

Exhibit B: He won’t speak to you or touch you or interact with you in any way. Okay, maybe ‘in any way’ is a teensy bit exaggerated, but he definitely seems to find trouble when you two are left alone for some strange reason. He seems to be fine when all your other friends are around, but he just looks so uncomfortable when it’s just you two. He won’t look you in the eye, and he’ll just mutter incomprehensible sentences under his breath. 

A couple months ago you attempted to hold a decent conversation with him in the kitchen of Jin’s fancy ass apartment. After many awkward silences that you had to fill up with your timid and boring small talk, he just mumbled something and you had to watch him go into the bathroom and scream. Either he was having some really bad explosive diarrhea, or having to talk to you was just that excruciating. Apart from intense Uno game nights or when he’s under the influence of alcohol, you’ve never even heard Yoongi raise his voice!

How is it possible that just by talking to you, he feels the urge to scream? You aren’t that boring, you think-! Actually, now that you think about it, you did try and bring up sea otter fun facts as a conversation starter, so maybe that’s why he had to scream. 

Personally, you think that sea otters are the most adorable creatures to ever grace the earth, but Yoongi does seem like the kind of guy to prefer bats or something like that. 

Exhibit C: The elbow incident. This haunts you to this day, not just from the horrible humiliation, but if the two previous exhibit’s weren’t convincing enough, this was real cemented evidence that Min Yoongi hates your guts. 

You were talking to Jimin about the significance of ‘Phineas and Ferb’ in the cinematic industry, when your dumbass had tripped and caught yourself on Min Yoongi’s fucking arm (His bicep, on a completely unrelated note, was much bigger and stronger than you had thought, which was a complete other source of anxiety.) You would much rather fall on the ground and break all your bones, because the look on Yoongi’s face as he stared down at you clutching his arm like some sort of idiot, could only be described as disgust or horrified. Maybe both. You immediately let go, of course, and blabbered out apology after apology, but all he did was just stare and blink owlishly at you. 

You proceeded to blush madly and run away, hiding your face in Jimin’s chest, which was, in hindsight, not a good idea, considering how hard he was laughing at the time. (What you didn’t see was Yoongi staring from behind you, deciding to never wash the hoodie he was wearing ever again.) 

So, that concludes your argument against Namjoon’s preposterous claim that ‘Yoongi doesn’t actually hate you Y/n, it’s all in your head’ Delusional, that’s what he is. How could someone like Min Yoongi, a person you have literally been drooling over for most of your academic career, a person who single handedly has every sorority girl wrapped around his finger, even tolerate your very existence, much less be attracted to you? No, none of it makes any sense. You’ll continue to hurt yourself by being around him, despite clearly knowing that he detests your presence, and will even deny the crush you’ve somehow managed to build up for him. 

Because even though it hurts to see him flinch and ignore you, you truly do think that Yoongi is one of the greatest people to ever walk on this shitty earth. He’s caring, even if he does pretend to not care, he’s smart, passionate, ambitious, and you’d be absolutely lying if you said you haven’t dreamed of pinching those squishy cheeks he seems to hide away so often. 

If only you knew why he hated you so much. 

✂︎

All the way across campus, Yoongi was having a similar breakdown while Jimin looked on anxiously. 

“God fucking dammit!” He screamed. The sound comes out slightly muffled since Jimin can only hear what he’s saying through the pillow that Yoongi currently has his face buried in. He kicks his legs up and whines, hitting the bed with his hands. Jimin is suddenly reminded of his 4 year old cousin who threw a tantrum when she didn’t get the doll she asked for. 

“And then you know what I said, Chim?? Do you kNOW?” Yoongi’s been screaming for the past thirty minutes or so. Jimin’s surprised that nobody on campus has come pounding on their door telling them to shut up yet. 

“Please, do enlighten me.” Jimin murmurs, picking at his nails. 

“I said ‘Salutations’ AND THEN I RAN OUT THE FUCKING CLASSROOM.” Yoongi tilts his head up from the pillow and groans, scrunching his nose up at the embarrassing thought.

“At least it’s not as bad as the time you screamed in the middle of the street when she touched your shoulder… right?” Jimin offers timidly, forcing a smile on his face. An angry, sleep deprived Yoongi is already scary enough, but he’s ten times more intense when the source of anger comes from you. 

Honestly, sometimes he wonders how effective it would be if he could just lock Yoongi and you in a room and force you two to admit your feelings for once. (Until he mentioned this idea to Namjoon, who dejectedly informed him that they’ve already tried that.) ((Yoongi broke out of the room using a bobby pin and sheer force of will)) He’s never even seen a pair so smart, and yet so obliviously naive. Anyone with functioning two eyes could see the horribly obvious feelings the both of you shared for each other. In fact, for the first couple months upon meeting Yoongi, he thought that you were his girlfriend, based on how much he talked about you. That assumption carried on when he met you, until Jin told him that the two of you were just in a weird phase of dumbasses who kinda flirt. 

It’s not Yoongi’s fault that he’s so bad at having actual emotions that aren’t the tears of joy that he sheds whenever he gets free coffee from the barista at the local cafe, and it’s not your fault that your self esteem is too low to recognise that Yoongi basically worships you. 

In theory, you two are a match made in heaven. Both just as stupid as the other.

“How do you do feelings, Jimin?” Yoongi sits up from the bed, and Jimin thinks that the tear tracks and defeated look on his face is a tad bit dramatic, but he chooses not to comment on it, for fear of his own life. 

“... what?” 

“You know, feelings. How do you romance?” 

“... what?” 

Yoongi, completely exasperated, throws his hands up in the air and turns around to face Jimin. “Everytime I try to talk to her by myself it’s like I’m a fish out of water. I get way too nervous, and then she starts talking about otters, and she’s way too pretty so I obviously start freaking out! I don’t know, you and Jungkook have been dating for a year now, right?” Jimin nods.

“How’d you do that.”

“... Are you asking me how I got a boyfriend or-? Because I assure you that 85% of getting Kookie to be my boyfriend had to do with my great ass, so I can’t really help you out there- ” Jimin laughs as he watches Yoongi squeal and cover his hands over his ears. 

“Can I ask you for relationship advice without hearing about your sex life, please?” Yoongi pleads. “I know too many unnecessary things about how Jungkook is in bed.” 

Jimin decides to put his friend out of his misery. He places a hand on his shoulder, and shoots him a soft smile. 

“Yoongi, my young grasshopper- ” He retracts the hand when he sees the deathly stare Yoongi is looking at him with, but so far so good, “- there really isn’t much to it. Tell her you like her, and in the very, very, extremely small chance that she rejects you, so what? It’s not like you’re going to spend the rest of your life getting ov- ” Jimin’s voice falters again when Yoongi’s stare intensifies. 

“You don’t get it!” He complains, throwing himself back onto the bed once again. “You’re all good at this sort of stuff!” Jimin tilts his head in confusion. “You know, relationships! Talking to people! And I’m pretty sure Y/n is the love of my life, so I’m literally going to break down if she rejects me! I’m going to cry for days, I already know it!” Yoongi stares up at the ceiling, pouting at nothing in particular. 

“She’s so perfect, smart, nice, caring, funny, strong and incredible. It hurts that she’s never going to like me the way I like her.” 

“You know, Yoongi, if you never talk to her, she’s never going to know you feel that way.”

He sighs and closes his eyes, while it takes all of Jimin’s strength to restrain himself from not throwing Yoongi out of the window. 

Once he’s absolutely sure that Yoongi is fully asleep, he pinches the bridge of his nose and rolls his eyes. After a few quick taps, he brings his phone up to his ear. 

“Guys, I can’t deal with him anymore. We have to do something.” 

✂︎

“I would like to, once again, reiterate that I am 100% against this idea.”

“Shut up, Namjoon.” Namjoon grumbles something about being unappreciated, but continues to speak up.

“It’s a bad idea, Chim. Logically, there’s only a small chance this will work out in our favour, and if it doesn't, I’m at least certain that Yoongi will dislocate all of our limbs until we’re a pile of human flesh.” 

Jimin dismisses the thought. “Yoongi would never do that to us.” 

“Of course he would,” Taehyung piped up. “Do you remember the time he dyed my bright pink because I made fun of Y/n for her stupid heart patterned boots and she cried?” 10 pairs of eyes slowly looked up at Taehyung. 

“Well, that’s justified, we all want to murder you.” Taehyung gasps at Jin, who smiles back at him in return. 

“And also, you were being a huge asshole that day and you totally deserved it. The pink hair didn’t even look that bad.” Tae smiles proudly at Jimin. 

“That’s true, I fucking slayed with that pink hair. I kinda miss it, actually… ” He hums thoughtfully, scratching his chin. Jimin looks away and scoffs. Taehyung’s one of his oldest friends, but sometimes he gets a little too art-kid-college-dropout-hipster for him to handle. 

“Do you guys think I should dye my hair pink again?” Nobody answers his question. 

“Tae might be an absolute douchebag, but he has a point. We all know how protective Yoongi is over Y/n. Are you willing to potentially risk your life if this doesn’t work out?” Curse Namjoon for being logical. Maybe Yoongi killing him is a bit of a stretch, but he would make Jimin’s life a living hell if this operation ended up a failure. 

Nevertheless, he continues to insist. “Okay, what’s the worst that could happen? I physically can’t stand Yoongi stomping around the dorm because he’s emotionally incapable of working out his feelings anymore! Yesterday he fell asleep in my bed. My bed, Namjoon. For such a tiny man, he’s really fucking heavy, I couldn’t move him and had to crash on the couch for the night. If this doesn’t end up working, Yoongi will just go back home and mope around all day long. Nothing different from what he’s doing now.” 

“Um, what’s the worst that could happen?“ Namjoon asks incredulously. “How about if Yoongi finds out we tricked him, invites us to a murder mystery party, but then decides to kill us instead, and covers it up by burying our cold hard, deAD bodies in a highly unhygienic GRAVEYARD? What will you do if that happens, Jimin?“ 

“..........“ 

Nobody says anything to Namjoon, and the boys turn to Jimin once again. Shaking his head, and attempting to ignore... whatever the hell Namjoon just did, Jimin speaks. 

“Oh come on guys!” He shakes his shoulders and lightly taps his foot against the ground. “Aren’t you guys tired of dealing with these two dumbasses too?” A murmur of agreement seems to go around the group, and Jimin breaks into a huge smile. 

“Well, gee,“ Namjoon mumbles sarcastically. “Why don’t you just make a Namjoon Facebook hate group?“ Taehyung shushes him. 

Beside him, Jin and Jungkook are exchanging money, clearly for some kind of bet. What the bet entails, Jimin has no idea, but he doesn’t have the time to question them right now. 

“So, we’re in?” Everyone slowly begins to nod, all except Namjoon. Jimin beams, looking up expectantly at him. Namjoon bites his lip, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Fine.” He grumbles out, not acknowledging Jimin’s shouts of joy. “If this goes wrong though, you bitches better be fucking responsible.” 

“Well, I’m happy you’re all on board, because Hoseok is already here.” Jimin happily smiled up to find Hobi shuffling through the cafe doors, waving enthusiastically at him. He also decides to ignore the collective round of groans and ‘Jimin!’’s that went around the table. 

“Why did you even ask us for our opinions if you already planned this out anyway?” Jungkook hisses, awkwardly smiling at Hoseok.

“Because you guys can never say no to me!” 

“That’s only because of how fucking annoying you are, Chimmy.” Jin moves over in order to let Hoseok sit, even though he doesn’t look overjoyed at having to abandon his favourite seat. 

“Well, all of you look super happy to see me.” Hobi jokes, immediately picking up Namjoon’s milkshake to take a sip. 

“Sorry that you had to get dragged into all this bullshit, Hobi,” Namjoon says, pushing his milkshake towards him and sticking a second straw in the cup. 

“No problem! I love pissing Yoongi off!” The group slowly stares at Hobi, who is still cheerfully sipping at Joon’s milkshake. 

“Well,” Taehyung mutters. “What else do you enjoy doing in your spare time? Drowning yourself in lava?” 

“Taehyung, play nice. Some people are just special. Anyways, here is the plan for Operation: Delusional Idiots Who Need To Make Out.” 

“... Can’t we shorten that?”

“Yeah, seems pretty lengthy.”

“How about Operation: DIWNTMO? Like, pronounced as diwinteemo?”

“That’s… even worse, somehow.”

“Let’s just shorten it to Operation: Delusional Idiots.” 

Six voices, in the middle of the busiest cafe on the school campus, suddenly shout out the words ‘Operation: Delusional Idiots!’, and a cheer goes around the table. 

Onlookers wonder if they are referring to themselves. 

✂︎

In hindsight, Namjoon was probably right. But Jimin can be extremely convincing sometimes, and Jin takes every opportunity to throw a party, so maybe Namjoon was fighting a lost cause in the first place. 

He ponders what he wants his tombstone to say, while pacing around Jin’s apartment, where the party is already going on, full force. Maybe something like ‘Kim Namjoon (1994-2020) Murdered by Min Yoongi at a house party.’ Well, at least if he really does die tonight, it would be a good night for it. 

Namjoon has many complaints about Seokjin. He could probably pull up a never ending list of the girls and guys who have come complaining to him for his friend’s mistakes, screaming about how Jin broke their heart, so and so. But, even he has to begrudgingly agree, Kim Seokjin throws one hell of a party. 

It was one of those rare nights where you could actually make out the faint stars in the Seoul skyline, where the twinkling of the stars felt peaceful. Namjoon isn’t too much of a party person, but the monsters that he calls his friends go out every Friday night, pulling him along most of the time. He’s gotten used to just camping out on Jin’s fancy apartment balcony, (Seriously, what kind of college kid has a balcony?) avoiding the cheers, loud screaming and horribly unhygienic things that are happening inside. 

Unfortunately, thanks to Park Jimin and his horrible ideas, Namjoon is currently wincing in the middle of a huge crowd full of sweaty bodies. He regrets not faking a fever while he could, but it was way too late now. His job tonight was to keep Y/n preoccupied. 

“Remember Joonie, under no circumstances can Y/n see Yoongi before Hoseok completes the task. If she even sees a glimpse of him, she’s going to freak out and leave.”

His aforementioned target was nowhere to be seen. Namjoon is starting to worry that all their efforts will go to waste just because you decided it was another Friday to stay in bed and watch Disney movies on repea-

“wHOA!” Another sweaty hand pulls him out from the crowd, and Namjoon stumbles out, breathing heavily. 

“Why aren’t you out on the balcony?” 

“Why- what- oH! Y/n!” 

You stare blankly at Namjoon, who is still rubbing his arm in pain. 

“You came!” He says, with a look on his face that you can’t quite decipher. 

“What do you mean, I came? Of course I came! It was you and Jin who insisted I come, right?” You dragged him over to the makeshift bar that Jin had set up hours ago on his kitchen island, pouring the both of you strong drinks. You’ll need it to get through the night. 

“Right!” Namjoon awkwardly laughs and follows you into the kitchen, craning his neck to lock eyes with Jimin, who then gives him a thumbs up and leans over to whisper to Hoseok. 

“Y/n,” He says, patting your back when you start coughing lightly from the shot you just downed. “We’re friends no matter what, right?” 

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off, looking around Jin’s apartment. “Wow, it’s pretty empty today. Aren’t there usually like 50 people trying to get into one of these parties?” Luckily for Namjoon, who was almost sweating and about to cry trying to come up with an excuse to satisfy you, you ignored him and continued talking. 

“Whatever, it’s fine. The less, the better.” You’re still looking around the crowds when you grab a hold of Namjoon’s shoulders, turning him towards you. “Yoongi’s not here, right?”

“What? hahahHHAHAHA nO of course not!” 

“Oh okay,” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “I look terrible today, I would not be able to face him.”  

“You look great today! What do you mean…!” Hopefully you dismiss the bead of sweat trailing down from his temple. It is pretty hot in here. 

Apparently, it took multiple threats, to Yoongi’s coffee machine and lots of bargaining from Jimin to convince him to attend the party, but it seemed to have worked, considering that Namjoon could make out the dark figure of Yoongi, dressed in a black hoodie and ripped jeans in the corner of the room, chatting to Jungkook. His eyes, however, were riveted straight beside him, on Y/n. 

“They really are idiots.” Namjoon muses to himself. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

From the corner of his eye, Taehyung is waving his arms around trying to catch his attention. He mouths something that Namjoon can’t quite make out, so he just mouths a ‘what?’ back at him and shakes his head. 

Namjoon can almost hear Taehyung sigh from across the room. 

You’re still pouring your second shot, so you don’t notice as Hoseok walks slowly from the living room. Namjoon has actually never seen his friends more concentrated on anything in his life. Even Seokjin, who was, just a second ago, dancing with some guy that Namjoon isn’t even sure he knows, has now pushed the stranger away, completely fixated on Y/n, who is blissfully oblivious to the attention focused on you. 

“Hey…!” Hoseok slowly slides in, real fucking smooth, if Namjoon could add, beside Y/n leaning on his forearm and smiling up towards her. Namjoon has to commend Jimin for the execution of Operation: Delusional Idiots. He’s honestly never seen Jimin put this much work into anything. 

Hoseok was the only mutual friend they knew of that Yoongi was familiar with, but not Y/n. Jimin said that he had considered Jackson for a short while, before realising that Jackson can’t talk to girls for shit. At least Hoseok can force his thoughts into some semblance of order when he’s flirting. 

“Oh! … Who,” You furrow your brows at Hobi, and Namjoon slowly backs away against the kitchen wall. “Are you?” Hobi laughs and spins around to face you. 

“I guess you don’t know me. I’m Jung Hoseok,” He sticks his hand out and you tentatively shake it, making him grin. “I’m friends with Namjoon.” He points up at Namjoon, and Joon awkwardly smiles, waving back at the pair. 

“Ohh,” You say, nodding. “Hi! Nice to meet you!” Sometimes Namjoon worries about you. You’re way too friendly and nice for your own good. 

“I’m a dance major, actually. You can call me Hobi, by the way.” He smiles at you and finally lets go of your hand. “Are you sure we’ve never met before?” You shake your head, murmuring incoherently. “No, I didn’t think so. I’d remember you if we met.” You giggle and push him aside playfully, offering him a drink. Hoseok accepts it with a smile even wider than the last. 

(Namjoon is now a little skeptical about Hoseok’s claims of flirting skill, but thankfully, you are, admittedly, a little stupid when it comes to this kind of stuff. You probably won’t even notice Hobi’s flirting with you at all.)

From the corner of the room, Yoongi’s deep gaze is now glaring deep into Hoseok’s back, but Hobi either seems to not notice or acknowledge it. He continues to stare at Y/n, laughing at whatever comes out of your mouth. 

“You’re a dance major? That’s so cool!” You gush, and if he didn’t know you so much, Namjoon would think that you were flirting back. No, you were just that naive. 

“- Thanks!” Hobi suddenly laughs at something that Namjoon didn’t manage to catch, but what he does catch is the look on Yoongi’s face when Hobi touches your forearm. 

Even Jungkook, who was talking to Yoongi, gulped and took a step back. Jin gestures something to Jimin, and Jimin shoots back an enthusiastic thumbs up. He then shouts something over to Namjoon, but he can’t quite hear over the loud party noise. 

 Based on his own mediocre lip-reading skills, he either said ‘It’s going well’ or ‘Jungkook smells’ He’s thinking maybe it’s the first. Namjoon slides away from the kitchen to join Jin, who is happily watching all of this unfold from the sidelines. 

“When do you think he’ll break?” Jin says, sipping on a bright blue drink that Namjoon doesn’t even want to know the contents of. He quickly glances over at Yoongi’s face, which is getting redder by the moment. 

“Anytime now. His glass is about to explode from his grip.” Sure enough, Namjoon predicted correctly. A few moments later, Yoongi begins to stalk over to the kitchen, and Jin clinks his bright blue monstrous concoction against Namjoon’s glass. Grumbling, Jungkook also comes over and slaps a $10 dollar bill into Jin’s palm, scowling when Jin smiles and accepts it. 

“Yeah, so a group of otters are actually called a romp, can you believe that- oomph!” Seemingly popping out of nowhere, Yoongi grabs a hold of your hand, glaring at Hobi. 

“Yoongi!” You squeak out. Namjoon, that fucking liar! He left you all by yourself with a new friend and didn’t even bother telling you the love of your life was in the very same room? You didn’t even wash your hair yesterday night! Well, at least someone finally listened to what you have to say about otters… say, that was a bit unordinary, nobody else has ever been interested in your otter fun facts before- 

Your trail of thought fades away when you look back up at Yoongi, who is still strangely looking at Hobi. “Um...” How is he holding you right now? He flinches away whenever you poke him on the shoulder, how is he holding your arm right now, completely unaffected? Oh. 

Of course Yoongi wouldn’t touch you willingly. He just has to be stupidly noble and moral and save you when you’re alone with a man he isn’t familiar with. “Oh, ah… Yoongi! This is my new friend, Hobi! You have nothing to worry about, I was just talking to him about otters and- oh, nevermind. Anyways, you don’t… have… to… hold my hand anymore.” Well, at least you can save him from the embarrassment of holding your hand any longer. 

“Yoongi, Yoon- Yoongi,” He doesn’t let go of your hand, even when you attempt to slip yours out of his. He seems to be gripping on, for a reason you can’t seem to comprehend. All he’s doing right now is maintaining eye contact with Hobi. Instead, he just glares into his eyes, repeating your words. 

“Friends. Friends?” 

“Yes, friends! Oh, ah, let me introduce you, um, Hobi, this is Yoongi, and Yoongi, this is-”

“Jung Hoseok. You call him Hobi?” 

“Well, yes- oh! Do you two know each other, or?” 

“Of course!” Hobi says, pouring another drink out. He stretches out his arm and offers the glass to Yoongi, but all he does is stare at the glass, not moving an inch. Still smiling brightly, Hobi just brought the glass to his lips, sipping on two separate drinks at a time. 

“Long time no see, man! Yoongi, how’ve you been?” Yoongi, still clutching onto your hand, stayed silent for a while, all while Hobi continued to smile. 

“I’m… fine.” He eventually chokes out. 

“Yoongi, are you okay? You seem really-” You’re once again interrupted when Yoongi pulls you away, stomping out the kitchen. You lean backwards, yelling out a quick apology to Hobi, but he doesn’t seem affected in the slightest. 

“Yoongi, you’re being rude! I said you don’t have to worry! Hobi is a new friend I met, he’s a friend of Namjoon’s, and we were just talking about otters-” 

“Why are you defending yourself?” Boy, you just keep on getting interrupted tonight. 

“Wha- huh?” Yoongi finally lets your hand go when he reaches the apartment door, shutting it closed, leaving it swinging in midair, even though he regretted it immediately after. You can still faintly hear the party going on through the door, but you had no time to process the fact that Yoongi just pulled you outside the party when he spoke up again. 

“I said, why are you defending yourself like that? You have no reason to. You’re acting like I just caught you cheating.” Yoongi’s voice turns faint towards the end of his sentence, and he looks down at his feet, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. 

“I’m not defending myself! I’m just- I’m just, well, I-” You fumbled with your words, stuttering and fidgeting around with your fingers. Why were you defending yourself? It’s not like… Yeah, it’s not like you’re his girlfriend or anything. 

“You can talk about otters to whoever you want. You might want to change up your flirting tactics though, not many people can put up with your strange obsession with otters-”

“hEY!”

“- Anyways, Hoseok’s, not a bad man. He’s pretty great, actually,” Yoongi admits. “He’ll treat you well. And he seems to be super interested in you, so… ” Yoongi clears his throat. You narrow your eyes and look down at his shuffling feet. This is probably the most Yoongi has ever spoken to you, in private, anyway. Why is he so unbothered? And why does that bother you so much? He doesn’t even care a little bit? Does Hobi really seem like such a great guy? 

“You don’t care?” 

“No, just, you know, don’t get hurt, or whatever. I’ll have to murder him… Or something.” You let out a small laugh, but he doesn’t seem to be joking.  

“So, if I go straight back in and ask Hobi out, you wouldn’t mind?” You swear that a vein pops out from Yoongi’s neck, but perhaps it was just your imagination. 

“Why would I mind?” He says, through clenched teeth. 

“... You’re right. Why would you be mad? You don’t care about me anyways.” Something ticks in Yoongi’s jaw. 

“What do you mean I don’t care for you?” He blurts out, just as you were about to head back through the apartment door. 

“Oh no, please, it doesn’t bother me as much now, trust me. It’s fine, Some people just don’t… vibe with you, I get it! You don’t like me all that much, it’s okay! It’s not like you’ve hurt me or anything! You just don’t like talking to me because I’m kind of a dumbass, that’s alright. It’s okay to keep avoiding me. And again, I’m sorry for the whole elbow thing, you didn’t talk to me for like the next two weeks, and again, I totally understand, you know?” Yoongi stares at you, blinking in realisation. 

“So… you mean to tell me that all this time, you’ve thought that… I didn’t like you?”

“Well,” Now you’re blinking confusedly along with him. “Isn’t that… why you run away everytime I come over to hangout with Jimin?” Yoongi brings his hands out of his pockets and buries his face in them, groaning. 

“And that’s why you don’t like talking to me, right? And that one time I spoke to you and you went into the bathroom and screamed for like five minutes? … Do you not hate me?” A look of realisation floods his eyes, and Yoongi leans against the wall, slowly sinking down to the ground until he’s practically sprawled out on the floor. Staring aimlessly, he reaches up and grabs your hand again, pulling you down to face him. You let out a small squeak, but you crouch down on your feet, awkwardly looking at your right hand that Yoongi (!!!) is currently holding for the second (!!!!) time. 

“Forgive me, Y/n.” He whispers, dropping his head onto your hand. 

“Forgive you? What for? Yoongi this is a little dramatic, don’t you think? This is technically a public area, um, maybe you wanna go back to your dorm? I can call Jimin out here, I’m sure he’ll leave the party early, let me just-” He pulls you back and won’t let go, even when you try to stand and leave his grip. 

“Yoongi!” Like a child clutching onto his mother, he just sits there and pouts, not letting your hand go. 

“I’m sorry!” He wails, lightly kicking his feet up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being my emo self and avoiding you, I’m sorry for making you think I hate you when that really isn’t the case at all, I’m sorry for being an idiot and screaming whenever you touched me, I promise that none of that was ever your fault, because you must have felt so hurt and disgusted by me-” Yoongi suddenly looks up and glares at you. 

“Yah! Why didn’t you just slap me!”

“Slap… you?”

“Yes, slap some sense into me, you idiot! I was so mean to you, why didn’t you just tell me you were hurt?” 

“Well,” You said, smiling nervously. “I wasn’t hurt!”

“Yes you were!” He wails again. Some sort of strangled noise comes from the back of his throat. “You must’ve been really hurt, and I’m sorry! I don’t want you to be hurt! I don’t want you to date Hobi, and I don’t want to lose you, because I’m selfish, and I’m fucking stupid!”

You speechlessly opened your mouth and closed it again, like a fish. Well, that was a full 180. What is he talking about? Apologising? You had dealt with the uncomfortable small talk and denying your feelings for years only to have him apologise now? You finally manage to open your mouth and firmly say something, but what comes out of your mouth is certainly not what you planned to say. 

“Min Yoongi!” You yelled and watched him slightly tilt his head up. “How could you say that now!?” His head is fully up now, gazing at you slightly dazed. “How dare you mess with my feelings for the past two years, just to completely, unexpectedly, blurt all of this out outside of Seokjin’s shitty house party?” You cry, slouching down onto the ground and sitting cross legged. Your unoccupied hand reaches up to your hair, frustratingly running your hand through your messy locks. 

“... If it counts for anything, I think that your obsession with otters is really cute.” You sniffle, for no particular reason, and nod. 

“... Does that mean you like me then?”

“Y/n,” Yoongi sighs, taking your other hand out of your hair and placing it into his own. “Isn’t that obvious, you fucking dumbass?” 

“You’re kinda giving off mixed signals here.” Yoongi squishes your cheeks together in a brave act from an unusual burst of courage that he managed to somehow build up. 

“Y/n,” 

“Mmph- Yesh?” 

“I like you. I like you a lot. I’m sorry for being a dumbass who couldn’t ask you out, and I’m sorry I had to do this at Seokjin’s ‘shitty house party’, but I’d really like it if you would go on a date with me sometime.” 

Yoongi releases your cheeks from his grip when you stay silent for a small while, red slowly creeping up from the neck up to his ears. 

“I mean, you know, only if you want to, it’d be fine if all of that was just, you know… ” Yoongi mutters, gesturing around randomly. 

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Yoongi.” 

“Oh. Cool, that’s cool. That’s… yeah that’s cool.” 

“Text me the details?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll, I’ll do- I’ll do that.” 

You can hear a faint scream when you enter Seokjin’s apartment again, but instead of filling you with the insecure, horrible feeling like it once did, you just smile and giggle to yourself again. What you don’t seem to notice is Jimin, Jin, Joon, Tae, Jungkook and Hobi exchanging victorious glances across the room. 

(About a week later, Yoongi took you to the zoo for your date. He slightly regretted that decision after you spent an hour making faces at the otters.) 

[notchesandbullets]

Bodyguard (Tattooed!Hak x Shy!Reader) Modern AU

Warning: Borderline 18+ content and steamy session at the end. Let's just say Hak's not okay with just being your bodyguard anymore after he sees you getting hit on by some guy.

You pranced up and down the grocery aisles, wrap skirt flowing behind you as you tossed various items into the shopping cart. The blouse you had worn earlier for work was much fancier than necessary for a simple trip to the store, but you didn't notice, mind taken up by a certain someone.

A huge, easy on the eyes, incredibly strong man with broad shoulders and intricate tattoos adorning his sculpted body who was dubbed the Dark Dragon by the surrounding towns.

Hak was gentle when he asked if it was okay that he leave your side to go find some pads for Ayame, one of his cousins. She needed more for her monthly cycle coming up and didn't trust Tae-woo and Han-dae to get it for her without practically buying the whole entire store in the process.

Her boyfriend, Saki, was still recovering from a gunshot wound he had gotten in a shooting last month and was bedridden for the time being. So Hak, being the only option left, offered to spare her the trouble.

He was more concerned than you think he should've been when he asked permission to leave your side for a second while he went to go get some. Having trained you himself, you were more than capable being left by yourself for a little while.

As much as you enjoyed the company, you did like your alone time.

And you haven't had much of it since he decided to attach himself to your side. Usually, you liked to grocery shop alone but this time your bodyguard had insisted on coming with.

Originally, he was appointed your bodyguard by Mundok, one of the heads of the Dragons when your father's small restaurant was trashed one night. You had gotten caught in the crossfire and was badly beaten up when the mysterious gangsters came to your rescue.

They fought for freedom and ensured the citizens' rights. They were really vigilantes, but it didn't sound as intimidating to their enemies as a mafia did.

Using it as a front, they were swift and decisive when it came to matters on their territory, nicknamed the Five Quadrants, run by the Dragons, five men who had extraordinary strength.

You knew you would've been killed that night if they didn't come when they did. You owed them your life.

In response, the retired general had entrusted your safety to his grandson, Hak.

Biting your lip as you browsed the crackers to find the one that he liked the most, you tapped a finger to your chin thoughtfully, not finding it among the many varieties. He didn't like you buying stuff for him but you found it handy to have some food on hand specifically for him since he was practically with you all day and night unless he had an errand to run for the old man.

You were head over heels for him. And it didn't help that he was so caring underneath that indifferent façade of his.

You had seen him help people without hesitation and even adopt a stray kitten on a whim. When people were in trouble, he was there. His heart was bigger than most you've seen and was all in when it came to his family and friends. He had some serious ink decorating his body that most people found intimidating but you knew what a softie he was inside.

He didn't fool you for a second.

An admirable quality, that's for sure... You mused, laughing to yourself as you finally found what you were looking for.

Hopping up and down in an attempt to reach the colorful package on the top shelf, your mouth twisted down in a frown when your fingers didn't even come close to reaching it.

"Here, let me help with that."

Your eyes shot open wide as a touch you didn't register as familiar gripped your waist, hoisting you up without a second thought. Fumbling for the package so that he would put you down quickly, you yelped when you missed and ended up knocking a whole bunch of them down.

The stranger holding you up didn't flinch as they rained down on him, setting you down carefully after the storm of crackers had ended.

Brushing back the hair that had fallen into your eyes, you looked up at the person who had so kindly helped you.

He was taller than you, with dyed red hair that somehow suited him. He hadn't let go of you yet and you cleared your throat uncomfortably, trying to put some space between you.

"Oh!! Sorry," He rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. "I'm Kyron."

You smiled at him, grateful for the assistance he had provided you. "Thank you for your help, Kyron."

He smirked at your timid voice and took your hand, kissing the back of it and making your cheeks flame up. "Of course, m'lady. It's my pleasure."

You took a step back as he advanced, swallowing when he backed you into the shelving.

"You are so beautiful. May I know your name?" He asked seductively.

Before you could speak a word, your hand was released and you were being pulled back into a broad chest. Squeaking in surprise when you lost your footing only to be steadied by strong arms looping around your waist, you glanced up to find your furious bodyguard glaring at Kyron.

"H-Hak?!"

Kryon's eyes widened in fear as he took in the dark tattoos swirling around his bulging muscles, his chest about to rip the sleeveless hoodie he was wearing. You didn't move as Hak stared him down with daggers in his eyes. The guy swallowed nervously before backing away, turning tail to run off.

The excuse on the tip of your tongue faded as you faced him, cheeks reddening at his proximity as he stuck his face close to yours.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, cobalt eyes scorching yours in search of a lie as you shook your head no. "Did he touch you?"

"Nothing like that." You said quietly but with certainty.

He released a heavy sigh, tinged with relief. Taking the crackers from you and putting the ones that fell back where they belonged, he took your hand to ensure you wouldn't be touched by someone else again.

The raid on the shop had you wary around strangers more than usual and even though a few months had passed since then, he didn't want to take any chances.

Tossing the pads for Ayame in the cart along with the snacks, he pushed the cart to the checkout lane, paying for all the items despite your protests.

"You didn't have to do that!!" You exclaimed as you both walked to your car.

Sure the job you had didn't pay a ton but you still could afford the necessities. You felt bad every time he pitched in to help you financially since it was pretty often but he always convinced you that he liked to take care of you.

He helped put everything away in the trunk, catching your hand as you moved to roll the cart in one of the outdoor pens.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Hak questioned lowly, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, to put away the cart." You said meekly, shrinking under his steely gaze. "It's just over there."

"It's dark." He stated matter-of-factly, grip gentle but firm around your wrist. "You're not going anywhere off on your own."

"Hak~" You whined childishly. "I'm not a kid, it's like ten feet away."

He ran a hand through his hair, slamming the trunk close. Last time he had left you alone for a few minutes and you got hit on by some guy with weak shoulders. There was no way he was letting you out of his sight for the rest of the night.

"It's still too far..." He muttered under his breath, making you giggle.

"Come on," You urged quietly, suppressing the blush that wanted to rise to your face as he peered at you. "Let's go home."

Ten minutes later, you arrived in your apartment. You had barely stepped foot in the doorway when you were being shoved against the wall. Hak kicked the door closed with his foot, dropping the groceries carelessly on the ground as he pinned to you the wall with your wrists above your head.

You gulped, not recognizing the predatory look in his eyes.

"Tell me this isn't okay." He murmured deeply, tipping your chin up to look at him as his other hand held your wrists captive. "Tell me to stop and I will."

All words dried up. You couldn't say anything. He released your wrists and took a step back.

"I'm not doing anything until you give me your consent." He declared firmly, backing away until he was leaning against the opposite wall. "Once you admit your feelings and decide to acknowledge how much you've been looking at me, Princess..."

His eyes darkened with lust.

"Then Daddy will take care of you."

A week had passed. And then another. And then another.

After you had put away the food and gave the products to Ayame for her cycle the next time she came to visit, you had put it in the back of your mind.

But you hadn't forgotten his words, the promise behind them. You were just too scared to act on your feelings. Hands shaking as you cut vegetables for tonight's dinner, you tried to quell your racing heart but to no avail. You were a goner and you knew it as well as he did.

So why couldn't you let it happen?

Easy. You knew he was under assignment. He wasn't really attracted to you, it was just all part of the job. Your mind played tricks on you, convincing you that he didn't really care and that he would leave once his job was done.

But your heart was stronger.

Throwing down the knife on the cutting board, you hastily wiped your hands on your apron, yanking it off to pitch in the general direction of the kitchen chairs as you sped to the guest bedroom where he was napping.

Not even bothering to knock, you threw open the door, cheeks flushed with exertion.

The sight stole the air out of your lungs.

Hak was laying down on the middle of the bed with an arm thrown over his eyes.

And he wasn't wearing a shirt.

He didn't acknowledge your presence and you approached him cautiously. It wouldn't be the first time he tricked you into thinking he was asleep when he really wasn't.

Sitting down carefully on the edge of the bed so that you didn't touch him, you gazed down at him softly.

Now so close to him, you wondered if you had made a mistake.

Eyes flitting around, you shot up to your feet and headed for the door. You hadn't even taken two steps when you were being tossed on the bed.

Gasping as your body bounced when it hit the mattress, your breath caught in your throat when your bodyguard loomed over you, very much awake.

"Hak..."

His muscles flexed as he braced himself over you, strong arms caging you underneath him without a second thought. You ran your fingers over his bare chest, flushing at how well defined it was.

"Have you made up your mind, Princess?" He murmured in your ear as he traced your jaw with his forefinger, shivering at your feather-light touch. "Or are we going to keep pretending that I don't notice how you undress me with those pretty eyes of yours every time I pass by you?"

He cursed as you bit your lip, suppressing the urge to take you right then in there. You were so cute, so pure, so innocent. He wanted to see your face contort in pleasure and hear the sounds you would make when as you hit your high.

He wanted it so badly.

"Tell me now." Hak demanded, never breaking eye contact with you.

You were still unsure, worried about what the future held but knew what you wanted in that moment.

Biting your lip, you mumbled, "You, Hak."

He didn't need anything else after that. Having your permission, he slammed his lips on yours. You squeaked in surprise at the passionate attack, timidly moving your lips with his. He parted from you to let you breathe, pupils blown wide with lust.

"Was that your first kiss, Princess?" He remarked, tongue darting out to wet his lips and practically groaned at your intoxicating taste.

Pouting, you flushed bright red and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss you again. You mewled in his mouth as he aggressively kissed you, arching your back as he moved to trail along your jawline and suckled on your neck.

Stammering out his name as he pressed his body into yours causing you to sink into the mattress, you flattened your hands against his defined chest when he found what he was looking for.

You keened as he found your sweet spot with uncanny ease, squirming beneath him at the heat that pooled between your legs.

Hak growled against the hollow of your throat, biting and sucking on that spot until he was satisfied with the purple mark that splotched against the pale skin.

"Hak... wait!!" You cried out as he traveled further down. "Just how far are you going to go?"

He grinned, sending another wave of arousal down to your center. Shifting up to meet your soft lips again, he murmured,

"As far as you want me to go. I've been yours since day one, Princess."

He stroked your face gently, pressing his forehead against yours lovingly.

"I don't mind waiting if it's for you."

Tags: @katsukis-sad-angel​