#so i’d rather be like 3 hours early for everything

[derschleierfallt]

they should invent a bus that gets you where you want to go exactly when you want to. what’s a car

[moonstruckme]

As promised: more roommate!james

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Thunder crashes. A branch from the tree outside smacks into your bedroom window, making you jump. You smile a little at your reaction, and a frisson goes up your spine, giddy. 

You’re kind of in a euphoric state tonight. 

The storm came in early, darkening the sky hours before its time and bringing torrents of rain down upon your home. Immediately, your windows had been opened, your candles lit, and you were curled up on your bed with a book in your hands. 

Downstairs, you can hear the familiar buzz of the TV playing one of James’ sports games. The whole apartment smells like the cookies you made earlier, which you have a small plate of next to you and which your roommate had moaned as he’d bitten into upon you offering some to him. Sweetheart, keep spoiling me like this and you’ll never get me to leave. 

Suffice to say, you’ve been having a fairly good evening. 

Your book is just starting to pick up when the TV quiets. Everything quiets. There’s a thud, followed by a hissed curse. 

You laugh a little. Pick up your phone. 

Alright down there? You text James. 

More thudding sounds. You think about picking your book back up, but decide to wait.

If I were bleeding out on the living room floor, do you think I’d be able to text you back?

A moment later: If you wanted to do a thorough job of seeing I was alright, you should have come and seen for yourself.

Then: And I heard you laughing.

You smile to yourself, a quiet chuckle escaping you. Sorry, can’t, you reply. Too cozy. 

You hear his heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, and you have only a few moments to brace yourself before he’s swinging open your door. 

Lately, your body has been doing this thing where he looks at you and it’s like the ground softens beneath you. Luckily, you’re already on a bed, so it’s not really possible this time. 

James shuts off the flashlight on his phone, looking around your room with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Woah. Are you having a seance in here?” 

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way the candlelight plays prettily over his features. “You’re just jealous that I was prepared for the power to go out and you weren’t.” 

“It looks like you were hoping for it.” James grins. He starts to cross the room, and you’re like a sunflower to your light as you tilt to face him. 

He lays down next to you on your bed, on his stomach with his forearms propping him up. It’s a somewhat tight fit, but James doesn’t seem to mind the way his hip and shoulder are touching yours. His shampoo smell wraps around you like a hug. 

You pick up your tea as an excuse not to look at him, blowing softly before taking a sip. James watches you consideringly. 

“You really are thriving in here, aren’t you?” he teases softly. “Look at you, you’ve got your fuzzy socks on, your tea, your book. You’re in paradise.” 

You smile sheepishly as you set your tea down on the floor. “Sorry you couldn’t finish your game.” 

“Oh, it’s alright.” He nudges your shoulder with his. “I’d rather hang with you anyway.” 

You feel your brows furrow, a confusing mass of emotions knotting in your chest. “Don’t say that,” you tell him softly.

You can feel James’ gaze warming the side of your face. His voice is just as quiet. “Why not?” 

You look over, and his eyes don’t flit away like a sane person’s would. They’re steady and warm as the flames around you. Instantly the room feels too small, him a little too close. 

James’ smile is almost tentative. “Look, I know you drew the short stick with this roommate agreement, but I plan to soak up as much roomie time as I can get. Sorry.” 

“I did not,” you murmur. 

“Didn’t what?” 

“You drew the short stick.” Your face burns. You know James too well to think he’d be making fun of you, but it’s difficult to imagine an alternative. He can’t really think you don’t like having him as a roommate after all the ways he’s been a friend to you, the times he’s stepped in to help, when you’ve only been a burden and a drag. “Not me.” 

His eyebrows twitch closer to each other, and his lips tilt bemusedly, as though they’re unsure of what else to do. The lenses of his glasses reflect the candlelight, brown eyes molten behind them. 

“I’m inclined to disagree,” he says. The air between you feels thick and sweet. Your heart seems to know something you don’t, quickening its rhythm in your chest. Then, because it’s James, he flicks up a brow. “Truce?” 

You laugh quietly, turning your face down towards your book. There are goosebumps going all down your arms. “Sure,” you say. 

“Good,” he murmurs. “Glad that’s settled.” 

You don’t respond this time. You’re not sure you can. The words on your page blur by, unnoticed and unimportant.

Lightning cracks outside. You gasp and turn to see it, and James’ lips meet you there. 

You should have known he would be soft like this. You’ve kept yourself from thinking about it, but you could have guessed. The first gentle, warm press of his mouth is so lovely you get lost in it, but when it lasts for too long and he starts to draw back, you remember that you can move, too. 

He takes in a tiny inhale when you part your lips for him, his hand finding your waist and his body curving over yours. Your arm falls out from under you, and James follows you down. He tastes sweet and familiar, like home. 

You bring your hands up to his face, one resting tentatively on his cheek while the other toys with the idea of slipping its fingers into his hair. The sky rumbles outside. Your heart pitters. 

“It’s okay,” James mumbles. His voice buzzes against your lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart, please.” 

You grasp at the roots of his hair, palm settling more surely on his cheek, and James makes a sound low in his throat. He breaks the kiss to pull off his glasses. You take them from where he sets them on the bed, placing them more carefully on the floor where they’re not so likely to get crushed. His lips curve over yours. You think that if you were to detour to either side, you might find a dimple in his cheek. 

“James,” you murmur. 

“Oh, it’s James again now, is it?” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “What is it?” 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s a nonsensical question, but in fairness you think all the blood that’s supposed to be in your brain has gone to your lips, and James seems to get what you mean anyway. 

He chuckles quietly. “I am, yeah.” He makes a sound that’s almost like a sigh, hand climbing up your back until it’s trapped between your shoulders and your bed. “I don’t ever tell you how lovely you are, but I’ve…I’m sure. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I think so.” 

“That’s okay.” James kisses your chin, the curve of your jaw. 

“You’re lovely, too,” you tell him somewhat desperately. His lashes tickle your cheek. Your fingers are still burrowed in the hair at his nape. “I never tell you. I like when you’re here.” 

You feel his smile bloom against your skin. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he says, voice light with teasing. 

You frown, wishing he would take you seriously. “I do. I really like you.” 

“I think I like you more.” 

You scoff. He nips at your jaw, surprising a laugh out of you. “You can’t always win,” you say. 

James makes a happy humming sound. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

[bcmbiquinn]

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson Headcanons

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’d always make mixtapes/playlists for you for any occasion, “songs that remind me of us” “we should make out to this rhythm” type of thing.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’d drag you to every underground metal concert he can find but he would also go to any concert you want.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Following the above, he would do anything to get you tickets for your favourite artist, like anything! Camping the night before to be early in line -modern Eddie would have a laptop, 3 phones and a tablet to get you tickets-

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Late night drives with your boy, yup! Blasting music, windows down and taking random turns until you end up in a secluded spot and make out for hours. (Maybe more)

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Eddie is definitely a total romantic, he would write you cheesy love notes on scraps of paper, make poems for you, showing up late at night outside your window with a flower he stole from your neighbour yard.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He would try on making breakfast for you, but it’s mostly just burnt toast and half cooked scrambled eggs, he tried tho!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Touchy touchy, this man can’t take his hands off of you, pinching your cheeks, hand on your lower back, on your knees, caressing your arm, kisses on your forehead and neck and so on.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Eddie definitely needs a lot of reassurance, deep inside he always feels like people would eventually leave him, he desperately wants you to reassure him but struggles to ask for it, but once you do it and tell him there’s no one else you’d rather be, he melts instantly!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’s really into matching tattoos and would love to get one with you but if you’re hesitant about, he’d just draw one on you with a sharpie.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ ridiculously overprotective, you stub your toe, he’s like “Who did this to you?” Then proceeds to flip of the chair or hit the couch with his foot and ends up hurting himself too!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He’s sooo dramatic when he gets a cold, acts like he’s dying, all tucked acting like he’s on his deathbed holding your hand dramatically “my love…i don’t think I’d make it this time”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He can’t lie and definitely can’t keep secrets from you, if he has planned a surprise for you, he’s going to mess up immediately “Okay but when we get to the… I mean the totally normal thing we're doing! Forget what i said that!”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He would stole your snacks and leftovers, his logic? “What’s yours is mine, love. That’s how love works”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He takes fake offence to everything, if you say you don’t like a band he loves he would act as if you just stabbed him.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’s genuinely protective of you, if someone upset you he goes full beast mode, “do I need to kick someone’s ass?” He doesn’t play about you or your safety.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ if he’s ever mad at you, he would never be mean, he may cross his arms and grumble but the moment you give him puppy eyes he melts “you’re so lucky I love you, you little gremlin”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Our boy is a crybaby but he never had someone to rely on until he found you, he would try to hold his tears but the moment you hug him and whisper “I got you, Eds” it’s over, he buries his face on your shoulder shaking as he sobs.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He loves making gifts for you, he thinks it’s way more romantic, he would spent hours making the perfect necklace, ring for you, love letters, a scrapbook with all the memories you’ve made together, concert tickets, Polaroids.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He totally loves your quirks, if you’re into collecting rocks, you better believe he would get you the prettiest rocks!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He would give you one of his rings and if it doesn’t fit on your finger because it’s too big he would turn it into a necklace.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧he would give the most out of place birthday cards “congratulations on your promotion” “yaaaaaaaaay”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He gives you his stuff to you for no reason, his jacket? Take it, his favourite band pin? Take it. If you ever mention liking something he has, straight right into your hands “No, really take it, I don’t even need it” he probably does need it.

We’re close to valetine’s day baddies!

Divider: @adornedwithlight

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Five)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): continuation of angst but don't worry

Word Count: 2250, part 5/5

First ever fully finished fic if you can believe it

as per usual, @sapphicantics saw it first <3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Monday: the remainder of the day was a special kind of hell crafted just for you. 

When you left Regina in the bathroom, you sprinted straight outside to the courtyard and collapsed on the ground against a tree trunk and just sobbed. Full on shaking, head-in-hands, sobbed. If someone were there to ask you what was wrong, you wouldn’t know what to say. You were just… so overwhelmed. 

You didn’t even know when you got close enough to Regina that it hurt in your chest so bad to be… to be, what? In a fight with her? Was it even a fight? 

Everything you were feeling was a nightmare. 

You were confused but you were pissed at her for being confusing. And you were still trying to be nice and understanding but you were fucking hurt. You felt stupid for even allowing yourself to catch feelings for the mean girl. But you felt stupider for thinking that because Regina wasn’t mean. Not really.

So you just sobbed. You sobbed through your lunch hour and stopped yourself when the bell rang. You stood up, wiped your face with your sleeve, dusted your pants off, and went to class. There was nothing else to do right now, and you didn’t want this thing with Regina to ruin another class today. 

And even though you tried your best, you couldn’t focus through the end of the day. Suddenly, the final bell went off and you were being dismissed with no recollection of the past three hours worth of lectures. 

You walked home from school, taking the long way so that you could listen to fifteen more minutes worth of music and therefore, get fifteen more minutes without having to think. 

You didn’t see Regina again after your conversation in the bathroom. You were glad that she didn’t see you being a pathetic wreck over this. 

When Regina was left alone in the bathroom, she clenched her fists so hard that her manicure hurt her palms. She locked herself in a stall and punched the door after slamming in shut as tears stung the corners of her eyes. 

She took one deep breath. And then another. Trying desperately to calm herself. But it didn’t work. 

Nothing made sense. 

Regina knew, had known, for a long time, that she liked girls. But more importantly, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to. 

So her crush on Janis had to die along with their friendship. 

The tension with Cady was… well that was its own thing. Getting hit by a goddamn bus nipped that in the bud pretty quick.

She always got by pretending. She could date boys for a couple weeks at a time, perform the way she was supposed to, even have sex with them. It didn’t matter that she hated it as long as no one was the wiser. 

But you… 

You were different. 

She liked you. She really fucking liked you. And she also hated you for it. Because you were going to ruin her life. And she knew it. 

You were too fucking sweet. And too fucking perfect. And when she thought about it too hard, Regina would think stupid shit like “I’d rather get hit by three busses in rapid succession than lose that perfect, sweet, fucking infuriating girl.” 

Regina punched the bathroom stall door one more time to make herself cry because she needed to cry but she also needed an excuse to and so as the tears started to fall she took out one of those paper toilet seat covers and laid it down on the seat before sitting down and bawling. 

Twenty minutes later, Regina walked out of the stall and took her portable ice roller out of her purse, swiping it under her eyes a few times while sniffling. She cleaned her face and reapplied her makeup and then left school and took herself home early. 

Regina told her mom that she wasn’t feeling well, went straight to her bedroom, dry-swallowed her prescription naproxen, and went to sleep. 

Tuesday: you stuck to your routine to stay sane. 

You woke up at 5:30 and walked to school. You were able to get inside as soon as the doors were unlocked. You went to the weight room and worked out for ten minutes so that it wouldn’t look weird for you to use the showers, even though you were the only soul there at that hour. Then you went to the cafeteria to pick up your free breakfast. Couldn’t complain today, you always liked the cinnamon Texas toast. 

You ate, attended your early class, and then sat out front to read while your classmates rolled in before first period. 

Once again, you heard Regina’s Jeep before you saw it. You didn’t want to look up, but you did anyway. 

You watched her park her car but she didn’t get out. You watched Gretchen and Karen walk across the parking lot and tap on her window just to be apparently shooed away, because they came back looking like kicked puppies. 

You had to leave to get to class on time so you never saw Regina get out of her car and walk into the school. 

So you waited anxiously until chemistry, but she never showed. 

When class ended, you walked up to your teacher’s desk.

She looked up, “yes?” 

“I know you can’t actually answer this… but do you know why Regina wasn't in class today?” 

“I figured you’d have a better idea than me, why do you ask?” 

“I’m just worried about her.” 

Your teacher smiled, “then, I’d suggest you tell her that.” 

You nodded and left. Taking a deep breath, you took your phone out and sent a tentative text to Regina. 

Hey, you weren’t in class. You okay?

A few minutes passed but then she responded, had a meeting at the same time. Y? Miss me? 

You rolled your eyes and typed back, will you be in class tomorrow? Just wanna know how many lectures I’ll have to catch you up on. 

You’re sweet. But I’m very accomplished at chemistry now, remember? 

She sent a double text a moment later, I’ll probably make an appearance. 

Again, yours and Regina’s paths didn’t cross for the rest of the day. By the time you were leaving the building to go home, Regina’s parking space was already empty. 

You sighed and began your trek with plans to stop for groceries at the store on the way. 

After purchasing the cheapest loaf of white bread and as many cans as twenty dollars could buy. But before you checked out, you replaced one Hormel chili can with a Mountain Dew from the fridge in the check out aisle. 

Regina stuck it out for the whole day this time but she was first out of the parking lot when the day ended. Nothing could keep her in that building longer than she had to be right now. 

The only issue was that she didn’t want to go home either. 

Without thinking about it too much, Regina ended up putting her car in park in the same spot that she dropped you off that weekend.

She sighed and stretched her neck from one side to the other. She was sore from physical therapy earlier. 

After sitting there for twenty minutes cycling through radio stations all playing the same top forty songs, she realized that she didn’t know what she was doing there. She didn’t know what she would say to you if she saw you. She didn’t want to talk to you… really talk to you… until she had it all figured out.

Regina turned her car back on, pulled back onto the paved road and went home.

Wednesday: the next morning went like any other, with the exception of trudging to school in the pouring rain. 

The night prior, you ate poorly heated-up chili out of a paper bowl and wrote a note for Regina. It culminated to just a few sentences, but you chewed on the end of your pen like it was the most important essay you’d ever written. 

You hoped that it would make some kind of difference. 

You sped through the halls to get to chemistry a few minutes early and you placed the paper note on her seat with the can of Mountain Dew on top of it. 

You were seated by the time Regina came into the classroom. 

She went straight to her desk and set her tote down on the surface then picked up the Mountain Dew and looked over at you, her eyebrow raised. 

You gave her a nervous smile and mouthed “read the note.” 

She rolled her eyes but did as she was told, picking up the paper and then sitting down. 

Regina read: 

“I noticed smuggled Mountain Dews in your bedroom minifridge last time I was there, I assume you don’t usually get to indulge… peace offering? 

I’m sorry. I haven’t handled this right. Can we talk after class, please?” 

Regina tapped her nails on the side of the can and then glanced back over to you with a gentle smile. She nodded and mouthed back, “thank you.” 

Your knee bounced anxiously throughout the entire chem lecture. Once dismissed, you filed out of the classroom and found Regina waiting for you across the hall. 

“You’re fueling a bad habit, you know.” The blonde quipped. 

You smiled and nodded, but had a hard time meeting her eyes. You looked at the floor instead. 

“Hey,” Regina spoke softly, “I’m not going to bite.” 

You finally looked up at her, “I said things to you that I regret, I shouldn’t-“ 

“Are you seriously apologizing to me right now? I should be the one apologizing.” 

“You? Why?” 

Regina scoffed, “for everything that I did. For freaking out. For dragging you out of my house. And… for this…” 

You just stood there and gave her a confused expression. 

Regina sighed and looked down at her hands as she whispered, “I’m sorry… I don’t think I can do this… I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have…” 

“Regina…” you instinctively stepped forward and reached for her hand but she pulled away from it. 

The blonde looked around the hall and saw curious eyes starting to fall on the both of you. 

You watched her hands begin to tremble before she clasped them together.  

“I can’t do this… please… please try to understand…” 

You looked around the hall, too. You saw the eyes of your classmates. Those scrutinizing eyes that had pegged you and Regina each as two completely different things before your ages even reached double digits. Eyes that belonged to people who decided that Regina would always be one way, and you would always be another. 

You took a deep breath in and looked at the blonde again, “I… I understand, Regina.” 

The blonde swallowed a pained sound in her throat and almost reached for you. Almost. She managed to choke out, “what can I do?” She was shaking and her eyes were watering. It broke you. 

You started to cry openly, letting the tears fall freely, and you shrugged, “I dunno, Gina… I just… I hope you take care of yourself, ‘kay?” You started to turn to walk away. You didn’t want Regina, or the entire school, to see you cry. You didn’t want to be in this for any longer. You didn’t want Regina George to have any more of a hold on you than she already did. 

“Wait!” 

You heard the blonde call out after you but you were already pushing the door to the exterior open. 

“Wait!” She called out again but the rain was drowning everything besides your own heartbeat out now. 

You didn’t stop until a hand closed around your wrist and halted you. 

Regina. She was there. Standing out in the rain with you. She grasped your wrist while rain drenched her perfect hair and began to melt her perfect makeup and wet her perfect clothes. 

Your classmates were pressed up against glass windows, watching like vultures while Regina George chased someone outside. 

You just stared at her. 

Regina sobbed and then laughed hysterically and shook her head, “I’ve been such a fucking idiot!” 

You continued to stare. You didn’t know what else to do with Regina holding your wrist and apparently losing it. 

She shook her head again, “you can’t just walk away… you can’t let me ruin this because you think it’s the noble thing to do… you should… you should be selfish…” 

“What are you saying?” 

Regina stepped a hair closer to you and lifted her free hand up, gently cradling your cheek in her palm, “I almost threw away the only person who’s actually given a shit about me… because I was scared… and you would have let it happen because you thought it’s what I wanted… because you’re too sweet for your own good… and because… I’m a liar… and I have spent… so long… caring about what other people think of me… I’m exhausted… I’m exhausted and I don’t care anymore… the only thing I want is to kiss you… please… please let me kiss you…” 

You slowly pulled your wrist out of her grasp, but not to pull away from her. You grabbed Regina George’s face in your hands and pulled her in and pressed your lips to hers. 

More importantly, Regina George wrapped her arms around you and kissed you back.

[purplephantomwolf]

Love in Motion

Chapter One

Synopsis: You're a normal college student until you get a wrong number text.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: None

Masterlist

I AM REWRITING THIS FROM AN OC STORY. IF I MISS ANYTHING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT! THIS IS CHAPTER 1 OF 5 OF ALREADY WRITTEN CHAPTERS.

April 4, 2022 12:30pm

     You sigh, turning your attention away from your software engineering professor to your laptop screen. You watch as the 20 best drivers in the world complete the last lap of the first race of the 2021 Formula 1 season. You just recently got into Formula 1, so you’re watching the 2021 season to get a feel for the sport. Someone told you the 2021 season is a great season to watch because of the fights between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton. You silently cheer as your favorite driver, Lando Norris, finishes P4. You look up at the clock and see that it’s only 12:30. Still 35 minutes left of class, you think. You let out a small sigh, turning back to your laptop. You move on to watching qualifying for the first Italy grand prix of the 2021 season. You have just clicked play when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You grab it and see a text message from an unknown number. 

Unknown Number: Did you make it home from the club okay?

You: *One Image Attached* Considering I’m currently in a programming lecture, I think you may have been given the wrong number. I’m sorry.

     I send a picture of my view of my professor, laptop, and notes to the unknown number. 

Unknown number: Oh, thank you! I’m sorry for bothering you!

Unknown number: Hang on, are you watching Formula 1 while in lecture?

You: It’s okay! Also, yes I am watching Formula 1 while in lecture. I’d rather be learning about Formula 1 than boring C++. Also, why are you texting someone about getting home from the club okay? It’s 12:30 pm?

Unknown number: It’s currently 2:30 am for me. I was attempting to text a girl I was talking to at the club, but it looks like she gave me the wrong number. 

You: Oh, that makes sense. Wait, where are you that’s 14 hours ahead of me? Also, I’m sorry about the whole wrong number thing. That really sucks. Unless she gave you the wrong number cause you’re a creep. Then you deserve it. 

Unknown number: I’m currently in Melbourne, Australia. And I wasn’t being a creep! At least, I don’t think so. I hope not at least; I try my best to not be a creep. 

You: Alright, that’s good. I doubt you were being a creep. And Australia? Jeez, that’s so far from me. I’m in the United States.

Unknown number: That's only a small stretch from Australia. 

You: Yeah, it’s going to be not fun to watch the F1 race this weekend, but staying up is so worth it to see the race live.

Unknown number: Big fan of the sport? 

You: Yeah, I am. I just recently got into it, so I’m watching the 2021 season to learn everything I can. I’m also attempting to watch all the qualifying and races live.

Unknown number: Oh cool. That’s got to be tiring because most of the races are in Europe. Waking up early every day of the weekend must suck. 

You: I mean, yeah. It kinda sucks, but it’s not too bad. I’m not waking up super early unless it’s races in places like Japan and Australia. The earliest I have to wake up is like 6 for other races. That’s not too bad though. 

Unknown number: Oh, that’s not too bad then! Which team do you support?

You: Well, there’s not a specific team I really support. If I have to choose one, it would be McLaren, probably followed by Red Bull. I support drivers more than I support teams really. 

Unknown number: Okay, then who are your top three drivers?

You: That is a hard decision to make for 2 and 3. Lando Norris is for sure my number one driver, but I have like 5 drivers tied for second and then 5 tied for third. 

Unknown number: Oh interesting. Any drivers you dislike then?

You: No, I don’t dislike any drivers. Unless you count past drivers *cough* Mazespin *cough* 

Unknown number: That’s a funny nickname for Mazepin. But why don’t you like him?

You: I’m not sure. I just get a weird vibe from him. 

Unknown number: Interesting. But I get what you’re saying. Can I ask why Lando is your favourite? 

You: Sure! Lando is my favorite because of his personality, humor, and how he speaks out about mental health. I really struggle with depression and anxiety, so having such a public figure speak out about it is amazing. Also helps that he’s got the boy next door charm. That’s definitely my type lol

Unknown number: Ahh, okay! Those are good reasons to like him! Now, I feel weird talking to a nameless person. Can I ask you what your name is?

You: My name is Y/n. Can I ask what your name is?

Unknown number: Y/n, that’s a pretty name. My name is Luke. 

You: Nice to meet you, Luke. 

     You look up when you hear a commotion around you. You see that your classmates are packing their things and leaving. Wow, time really flew by talking to this stranger. You put your phone down and quickly pack your things. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and head out. You feel your phone vibrate with a text again. You see that it’s Luke again. 

Luke: Nice to meet you too, Y/n. 

9 pm

     You groan, leaning back in your chair. You glare at the lab manual you’ve been trying to make sense of for the past two hours. You glance over at your phone as it lights up with a message from your mom, and you pick it up to respond to the message. You are distracted from responding to her though because you see a message from Luke from 10 minutes ago. Your eyebrows rise in surprise. 

Luke: Good morning!

You: Uh, hi. Good morning! Did you sleep well?

Luke: I did! Has the rest of your day gone well? 

You: The rest of my day has gone okay. I’ve been staring at some stupid code that’s not working. The assignment is due in three days, so I need to get this code fixed.  

Luke: That sounds awful. I’m so thankful I’m no longer in school.

You: Yeah, I’m jealous. I’m searching for jobs in my dream field, but I haven’t found any that allows me to do what I want yet. 

Luke: Oh? What’s your dream job then?

You: My ultimate dream job is working as a photographer in the motorsport world, preferably F1, but I’d take any motorsport. My next dream job is just anything that allows me to travel the world taking photos. 

Luke: That would be an awesome job. I recently got into photography as a hobby. Do you have any photos you’d be willing to share with me? 

You: Sure! 

     You send him five of your favorite photos I’ve taken. Two are of cars on the move, one is a still life of a bunch of cars from a car show, the fourth is a sunset, and the last is of a group of people playing soccer. 

Luke: Holy shit! Those are amazing! 

You: Thanks! I’m really proud of these photos. They’re some of my favorite ones I’ve taken. 

Luke: They’re beautiful. 

You: Thank you! So, you mentioned that you’re no longer in school. Can I ask what exactly you do?

     You wait for a minute, but get no response. You decide to mess around on your phone for a bit while waiting for a response. After 5 minutes of not getting a response, you set my phone down. Right as you set your phone down, a notification for your chat with Luke pops up and you quickly click it. 

Luke: I am an event manager for McLaren F1 team. 

You: Really? That is so cool! I wanted to do event management in sports before I was in software engineering, though I was wanting to get into baseball. If I was still event management, I’d want to do motorsports now. Do you enjoy it? What does that entail? 

Luke: I plan events for the fans mainly. 

You: That sounds like a fun job. 

Luke: Why did you switch?

You: My parents thought I wouldn’t find a job that would make as much money as they do, so they made me switch to software engineering because it has higher paying jobs. 

Luke: Well, that’s stupid. Were you happy in event management?

You: Yeah, I was. But my parents are paying for my college, so I have to do what they want.

Luke: That’s very stupid. I take it you aren’t happy with software engineering?

You: No, I’m not. But I’ve only got two years left, so it’ll be all good!

Luke: Alright, well good luck. 

You: Thanks! Do you have a hangover?

Luke: I actually didn’t drink that much, so no hangover for me!

You: That’s very nice. I’ve never been hungover. I don’t drink a lot when I do drink. Can’t stand the taste of alcohol lol

Luke: Oh yeah, I get that. Do you want to play a game?

You: What game?

Luke: 21 Questions? To get to know each other?

You: That sounds like a good idea. I can start. What is your favorite thing to do in your off time?

Luke: I like to play video games. What is your favourite tv show?

You: Doctor Who. I could go on about that show forever. Who is your real life hero?

Luke: Valentino Rossi. What’s your favourite season of the year?

You: Fall. The colors are beautiful, the temperature is beautiful. I love it. What is your favorite song?

Luke: Right now it’s Last Last. What is your favourite city?

You: Of all the cities I’ve been to, London or Barcelona. If you had to guess what people appreciate the most about you, what would you say? 

Luke: My humour for sure. You’ve been to London and Barcelona?

You: Yeah, I went when I was a lot younger with my family. My family went on a three week trip to four different countries in Europe. We went to London, Paris, Zurich, and Barcelona. I loved London the most. It was right before the 2012 Olympics, so the city is probably different from what I remember now, though. Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert?

Luke: I would say I’m in the middle. What are your top three items on your bucket list? 

You: Going to an F1 race, start going to the gym, develop my skills in photography even more. Do you like to go to the movies or prefer watching them at home? Do you talk during movies?

Luke: I would prefer watching them home because it’s more comfortable. Plus it’s not expensive. I do not talk during movies if it’s the first time someone is watching it. If it’s not the first time, I’ll discuss the movie with others while watching it. If you could choose any F1 race to go to, which one would it be?

You: I’m torn between Austin and Great Britain. I know Monaco is like the go to cause of the history and prestige of it all, but I think Austin or Great Britain would be more fun with the atmosphere. Are you into podcasts or do you only listen to music?

Luke: I only listen to music. Podcasts need more attention than what I'm willing to give than music. What is your favourite ice cream flavour?

You: Probably chocolate. What’s one thing that can instantly make your day better?

Luke: Talking to my friends. What is the phone app you use the most?

You: TikTok or Discord. How would you spend your birthday, ideally?

Luke: Spend the day casually with my friends and family, and then have a party with them at night. You said you use discord, do you play video games?

You: Yes, I do. It’s one of my favorite things to do in my free time. What video games do you play? Do you usually play single player or multiplayer?

Luke: I usually play CS:GO and F1. What video games do you play?

You: If I play multiplayer games, it’ll be Valorant. But I mainly play single player games, like Assassin’s Creed. Assassin’s Creed Odyssey is one of my favorite games ever.

Luke: Which one is that one? I know they take place throughout time. 

You: That one is the Greek history one. I’m super into Greek history/mythology, so I absolutely love it. 

Luke: Oh that sounds cool!

     You glance over at the time. “Shit, it’s already midnight,” you groan. Now that you’re not focused on responding to Luke, you realize you are struggling to keep your eyes open. 

You: As much as I’d love to continue this, I just realized it’s midnight here, and I need to sleep. 

Luke: Okay, sounds good! Have a good night! 

You: Thank you! Have a good day! 

Luke: Good night!

You: Good night!

     You plug in your phone, shut off your pc, and change for bed. You crawl into bed, falling asleep quickly.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two

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

Permanent taglist:

@sol3chu

@faithshouseofchaos

Story taglist:

[starshipsofstarlord]

Prisoner

Summary-> (Early season 3 based) Winter had been a long journey for all of your group, especially you and Daryl given that there was always a lack of privacy. You find it difficult to feel at home in the prison, but Daryl is always there for you when you need him, and you have the chance to relish in a night alone - or as lonesome as a cell can be (2.9k)

Warnings-> 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, established relationship, mentions of arrest and imprisonment, swearing

daryl dixon // norman reedus works masterlist

It was an adjustment, that much was clear. After having been locked up in a prison for a few years, the last place you had wanted to be was in one, but here you and your group were, in a cell block after having cleared it out.

Your knee bounced as you sat upon the steps, gnawing upon lip, staring at the familiar grey walls that brought bad memories back into your mind. It wasn’t something you wanted to voice as a problem, you’d spent all winter out on the road, enduring the cold nights, you should have been grateful like everyone else was.

“Y’ okay?” Daryl asked as he took a seat beside you, brushing his shoulders with your own with a comforting manner, reading with no doubt that something was bothering you. Most of the day you preferred to be outside, killing the walkers that clawed at the fences, and you jumped at the chance to go out on a run for supplies just to get out of this pit of misery.

“I’m fine. Just need a distraction from all of this.” You gestured around you, sending him a small smile, feeling far too conscious to even think about falling asleep. “I know it should be good that we’ve found somewhere, and it is, don’t get me wrong, but-“

“I know.” He told you, nodding in understanding, before he put his large hand over your smaller one, clasping it in his grip and bringing it up to his lips. “Don’t have to like it, none of us do, but we woulda died if we hadn’t found this place. And that’s the last thing that I wan’ to happen to ya. I’m grateful for everything you did, ya know.”

“I know Dare.” You decided to look at him rather than the tin you were sat in, meeting his softened blue eyes. “Think if I saw Merle again I’d kick his ass for abandoning me on that night which cost me months in the normal world with you.” He grunted in agreement, smiling when remembering that you had found their camp, and you’d done just that to his older brother.

“Ya got out, that’s all that matters. Especially before all this and the world goin to shit.” The thought of you trapped in somewhere like this and most likely being turned into walker chow or one of them had his heart bursting at the seams. It was a vulgar thought, and the last thing that he ever wanted to happen to you. He wanted to protect you, and he should have done that before, but he was petrified, and you were too stubborn and claimed that you had to pay for your mistakes.

He’d come to see you a few times when you were locked away, he hated that a panel of glass separated the both of you, all he had wanted to do was run his fingers through your hair and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t, so instead he counted the days and hours until your release, he had this whole idea of collecting you from that place and driving you far away.

But your release day had been the same day that the entire planet was engulfed with the spreading news of a disease that turned people into monsters, and Merle wouldn’t let him go to see if you had made your sanctioned escape. He had no idea whether you were still alive until he saw Shane carrying you into the camp, exhausted from the lack of both food and fluids and running god knows how many miles just to survive.

“Guess you’re right.” He always was, even if he was too selfless to admit it. “Do you maybe want to try sleeping in a cell? I know we’ve got this whole thing of liking the floor, but I guess it’s worth a try.” Daryl surprising agreed, pulling you to your feet after he had stood, the two of you walking to an empty cell, passing by the other members of your group that were either asleep or lying down in isolation.

It was a big step for you to enter a cell after the months you had been holed up in one by the law, but Daryl kept his hand on your elbow, reminding you that he was there. And always would be. And so unsurely, despite it being your idea, you stepped within the cell, it was devoid of any personality, just a bunk and the normal silver basin and toilet, which all reminded you that this wasn’t home. You hoped that one day you’d find somewhere that felt less suffocating, there had to be a place out there, beyond the chain fence, where it was safe to breathe without the risk of walkers eating you in your sleep.

As you entered the room, you were strangely comforted by the sound of Glenn’s snoring from the cell over, he was no doubt laying beside Maggie, then both lulling in the chance to rest. “It’s not so bad.” You muttered, kicking off your mud accented boots, as Daryl remained close to the door, blocking the view from anyone that could pass as you shrugged out of your jeans, and lifted your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. It was something that you hadn’t been able to do in prison without the harassment of officers or other people fulfilling their sentences.

Daryl said nothing as you stood still for a moment, closing your eyes, before you reached back, unclipping your bra, his eyes danced over the expanse of your back, every scar traced by his pupils and every mole a target that he planned to pelt with gentle kisses. You turned around to face him, like a vixen testing his limits, tilting your head as you padded along the floor towards him, your fingers brushing against his sleeve butchered flannel. “I want your shirt.”

There was no resistance on his part as he helped you unbutton each button on it, shrugging it off of his broad shoulders as he handed it to you, watching you slip it on. You inhaled his scent as you did only a couple of the buttons on it, before testing the mattress with your hand on the bottom bunk, before sliding upon it and closing your eyes. “Aren’t you going to join me?” He said nothing as he silently kicked off his own boots, tossing the knives he carried out from his pockets onto the floor, them deliciously clattering upon the cement, as he readied himself to lay beside you.

“It’s been a long time since we had a bed.” Daryl spoke in hushed volume, not counting the time on Herschel’s farm after he had been scathed by a bullet in the left side of his head, no thanks to Andrea. He shuffled as he tried to get comfortable, deciding on laying on his side and facing you, trapping you in his arms as his nose brushed against your own. “At least it’s better than that one you had in your shitty old trailer.” He smirked, watching as you tapped his shoulder with your screwed up fist, rolling your eyes when you remembered why it hadn’t been so comfortable.

“It was perfect, we broke it in. Not my fault that the springs couldn’t hold up.” He shook his head at your words, clearly that sale you had got it from had been a scam, but you had insisted that it was better than sleeping on the floor. Truth be told, Daryl didn’t care where he slept, as long as he had you securely beside him, he never wanted you to be taken away from him again, and he was insistent that he wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“I think you’re the one tha’ couldn’t hold up. Or be quiet.” He remarked, causing a scoff to pass from your lips, as you attempted to turn away from him but he wouldn’t allow you. Instead his grip on you got tighter, as he raised a brow at your actions. “But if yar blamin’ it on the damn mattress, we migh’ as well see if this one is any better.” It wasn’t very often that Daryl would smirk, but when he did, you practically melted in a puddle in front of him and forgot where you were, which in this instance, was a blessing. His hand trailed down your sternum that was exposed by your lousy buttoning of his shirt that you wore, descending dangerously lower, so that his fingertip hit the top band of your panties.

Your breath hitched, as your body became almost immobile, frozen from his more that welcomed touch. He teased you, running his hand hand back to your stomach only to trail it back down to where his destination had been. “Damn it Daryl, do something.” You hissed, careful to keep your voice down. “I swear to- oh.” His hand had slipped into your underwear, rubbing against the outside of your cunt, causing your hips to jut up into his touch. He always knew how to make you sufficiently aggravated, you’d have cursed out from the bubbling annoyance in your chest if you had no worries that anybody could hear the two of you.

With that he slipped a finger into your walls, it felt like it had been a long time since the two of you had an opportunity to be physical. All through winter, after losing the farm to the mass of endless walkers, you’d had sex once out in the woods, when you were supposed to be hunting, and because of your lack of action you felt touch starved. Even despite Daryl proceeding to hold your hand when the pair of you rarely walked at the back of the group, and sleeping side by side with him. It just hadn’t been enough, but for now these taunting walls allowed you some release, ironically enough.

“Yer so fuckin’ tight.” Daryl muttered, kissing up your stomach all the way up to your lips, ushering and drinking your whimpers that threatened to escape. “Woulda fucked ya more if I’d had the chance baby, now I’m really gonna have to stretch ya out before I can put my cock in ya.” You could only moan into his mouth, hands clasping around his wrist as you ground yourself down on his hand, you let out a squeal as he unexpectedly entered another finger, alarmed by the welcomed intrusion, however Daryl stopped all movements. He spoke quietly to himself, eyes dancing around with a scheming glimmer in his eyes, as an idea revelled in his mind.

He yanked a pillow out from beneath your head, causing you to pant as you clenched desperately around his fingers, trying to allure him into continuing. Daryl raised your hips, fingers still in you, as he placed the pillow beneath them, your mouth making an O shape as he hit a new angle inside of you. If you hadn’t been in a prison, knowing that it was your worst nightmare, he would have calmed your sounds by placing the pillow over your head, but he knew where the line was drawn and he was never one to cross it if he was aware of your discomfort. “Good girl.” He drawled out, deciding to fasten the pace of his fingers as a wet spot began to leak onto your panties, he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip as he watched you. You were close, and it had come faster than expected, given how many months it had been.

“More.” You pleaded, wanting his cock, no matter how much it hurt when he stretched you out, but instead you were given another finger, and Daryl grunted as he rutted into the bed. “Dare, need you.” You huffed, feeling empty when he removed his fingers. The time dragged as he unbuckled his belt and pulled off his jeans, and finally he clambered on top of you, his naked form teasing every nerve in your entire body. “If you need me so bad, why don’ ya ride me?” He whispered, rolling the both of you over so that you were atop of him. You leant down, your hair falling in a cascade around both of your faces as you pressed your lips against his, sliding your cunt over his cock.

He was frighteningly hard, it had been months since the both of you had gotten this far, and there were no interceptions that could stop you this time, or so you hoped. Your slick coated his length as you ground yourself on him to fulfil your own insatiable drive of hunger, his hands bruising your hips as he attempted to keep you still so he could slip inside of you from beneath your trembling form. His tip grazed your clit, sending you into a frenzy, you couldn’t wait a second longer you mindlessly decided, grasping his erect cock in your hand to hold it still, as you slid him inside of you. It was an ethereal feeling, the two of you relished in the sensation of being so close, and not just emotionally.

Daryl’s head reached up, pulling you down flush on top of him, as he spread an array of butterfly kisses over your collarbones and the middle of your throat. “I love ya girl, you drive me absolutely crazy, but yar my kinda crazy.” He stroked your hair lovingly out of your face, distracting you from how he raised both of the weights of the lower halves of your bodies up, and before you could respond with your own spoken words of love to him, he began to thrust up into you, making the world around you drown into nothing more than a distant memory. Your breathing was messy as it mixed with your partner’s, you sturdied one hand on the pillow beneath his head, the other long discarded to the floor, as your opposite braced itself on the wall, clawing at the impenetrable surface.

“Fuck Dare.” Tears were glazing your eyes as you felt each vein of his cock within your cunt, and you began to move with his own thrusts, finding a rhythm that suited the position that you were in. You were careful not to raise your head too high so that you didn’t hit it on the bottom of the bunk above you, Daryl’s right hand left your hip and rested forcefully on your ass, squeezing the flesh as he tried and failed to hold in his grunts. Surely by morning, there was no doubt that someone would make a commotion about hearing you through the screen-less doors, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not after how long it had been since you had evoked such passion with the man below you.

Sweat began to bead upon his forehead, slicking the growing locks onto his face, as you brushed them away. A heavy creak rattled from the bed as Daryl once again turned you over, and pounded in you from above, without allowing his cock to slip out from your sweet and wet pussy. From the red tint that had appeared on his face, and how he frowned as though he was on a mission, it was clear that he was getting close, which wasn’t a surprise considering the amount of time that had passed since your bodies had moulded together in such a way. You grasped him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to entrap him in a fiery kiss, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as you approached your own high.

And there it was, the destination that you had been caving for, your own release. After all of those months that you had served as a resident in a prison, you’d missed his touch, and as soon as the two of you had reunited in Atlanta, you’d made the most of the time you could get together. Daryl’s thrusts began to get sloppy as he struggled to keep up his pace after feeling you clench around his cock and cum all over it, sending him into a delirium to chase his own high. He could feel his balls straining to be emptied, and when he was almost there, he pulled out, not wanting to further the risk anymore of getting you pregnant given the state of the world, and began thrusting himself in the apex of your thighs, until finally he allowed his seed to spill over your flesh.

He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning down to press a kiss against your sweaty hairline, before reaching down and grabbing your discarded shirt, wiping your upper legs clean. He wasted no more time to curl up next to you and bring you into his large arms, staring at your face, letting you know without words that you were the most important thing to him. He’d do anything for you and to keep you safe, nobody was going to separate the two of you again, he was stern on that. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad.” You muttered lovingly into his chest, brushing your nose against where his heart lay, and Daryl releases a small but real smile as he tugged the blanket out from tour forms, awkward as his manner was, and wrapped it around the two of you, so that you could drift off to sleep in his arms and pretend for a moment in your dreams that the world wasn’t as it was.

[transhuman-priestess]

Sometimes the struggles we go through to be ourselves can be as rewarding as the end result.

A pretty breezy one here. Only content notes are surgery mention and needle mention. No gore to be found, no sex neither. Just good ol' fashioned yearning.

This is definitely a bit of a right angle to my usual stuff. There's no horror, it's light on dialogue, but its in a very similar space to a lot of the other stuff, just a different way of going at it.

Daughter of Elysium

I scheduled the surgery without telling my parents. They wouldn’t understand.

When I came out as trans they were supportive, in perhaps the slightly awkward way that cis people tend to be when they want to be accepting of things they don’t understand. This was different though.

I sat in the waiting room of the clinic in Montevideo, lined with faux wood paneling and sleek glass. Peak 2010s architecture. An older building, but the clinic’s reputation spoke for itself. There was no way I was going to get this procedure done in North America. Too expensive, too niche.

Too many hoops to jump through, too. Go see this doctor, talk to this therapist. Walk with these crutches. Practice with this fake charger for a year. Bullshit, all of it. I just wanted to be me.

So I saved money where I could. I slept in the heat of the Californian summers, kept the lights off early in the winter, rode the train to work, ate cheap meals, canceled all my subscriptions, lived in a 300 sq foot apartment in Watsonville.

3 years and $100,000 Californian Dollars later, I got on a train in Santa Cruz for a 3-day journey to Uruguay.

It was late June, a few days before the solstice. This far south of the equator that meant the sun rose late and set early. It was early morning, a quarter to 7, and 5 hours ahead of California time. I was used to being awake at night, but that only made the early sunrise more disorienting.

“Lewis, Kara,” a thrill of adrenaline rushed through me as the receptionist called my name. After reciting my birthday to confirm my identity, I was taken back to preop. I changed into a surgical gown and then lay down on a gurney while a nurse ran an IV to my arm and started saline. I thought about asking what happened once the arm was removed, but I figured it wasn’t worth the explanation.

For the next 10 minutes I stared at the clock. I hadn’t brought anyone with me. This was something to do for me, by myself. No partner, no friends. I had brought a bag with one change of clothes, my passport, and my phone. I thought about calling my friend Cory, but decided against it. No sense in getting anyone worried. As far as the outside world was concerned, I was on vacation.

I guess that wasn’t too far from the truth.

At 7 sharp, a couple of orderlies came in, checked my name and date of birth, and released the brakes on the gurney. They wheeled me out into the chilled hallway, and through the double doors into the operating room.

Inside the surgeon, the anesthesiologist, and several techs were waiting. A nurse placed a mask on my face and told me to count backwards from ten. A sweet, chemical smell filled my nostrils, and the world faded out.

* * *

It wasn’t the first time I’d had surgery, so the novelty of coming up from the anesthesia surprised me. Rather than the slow, heavy feeling I’d expected, it was like waking up from a nap. Disorienting, but in a cozy way. Nothing hurt. I hadn’t expected that. Probably the painkillers were still feeding in.

I tried to open my eyes, but my lids only twitched slightly. I heard one of the nurses say “You’re awake! The doctor will be in to see you soon. Everything went well, congratulations.”

I tried to reply, but my jaw moved jerkily and I had trouble forming words. The result was a disjointed grunt emerging from my mouth. But I could tell that I had a mouth, which was good.

The nurse left. I could hear his shoes squeaking off into the distance. As they faded, the thrum of the HVAC replaced it, and an occasional mechanical whirring near me. My eyes were still closed, and for the first time I noticed the green letters in the corner of my vision. Instinctively, I tried to look at them, but they moved with my eyes. After a time I was able to make them stay put long enough to look at them.

ARLINGTON ROBOTICS SYSTEMS

BANGOR, WASHINGTON, CASCADE REPUBLIC

I managed to open my eyes after a few minutes. At first it was all much too bright, everything blown to white, but after a few seconds my vision dimmed to a comfortable level. I focused on a tiny hole in the floating ceiling above. After a moment, I managed to zoom my vision in.

I marveled for a time at the detail in the ceiling. This mass-produced object, fiberglass and paper, contained so much beauty. How many times had I stared a ceiling like this without noticing?

The doctor came in and reaffirmed that everything had gone well. She told me that rehab would start in a few days, once my new body’s systems stabilized and adjusted to neural commands. I tried to smile but couldn’t manage to get my face to move right.

The doctor chuckled and plugged a display into a port on the back of my new neck. She held it up to me, and I watched as the words “What is this for?” appeared on it. She explained that until my vocal rehab started to kick in, this display would help me communicate.

She told me to raise my arms out to my sides. I struggled with this task for a moment before finally managing to do so. For the first time I got a look at the body I’d picked out from the inside.

Gray plating, seams that slid over each other, an unapologetically mechanical body. I’d wanted that. They’re getting good at synthetic skin these days, but I wanted to distance myself from humanity. There was nothing wrong with humanity, but it never spoke to me. I’d always been somewhat apart.

* * *

I slept most of that first day. The next day they let me eat. The bioprocessor seemed to be working, the staff said, but I should keep it light, and stick to carbs rather than fat and protein until the new tract could build up a sufficient biome to support those.

Odd as it sounds, it was 36 hours post-op before I realized I hadn’t peed. The charging station that I hooked into took care of filtration and detox of what little biomass I had left. I felt suddenly elated. I actually tried to get up out of bed, and promptly tripped over my own foot, smashing my face against a wall.

The nurses rushed in, worry on their faces, but I couldn’t stop laughing, and that’s when I heard my voice.

It wasn’t like my old voice. It wasn’t cold and computerized, but warm, and rich, like an old Roland Jupiter, full of dense harmonics, singing highs, and comforting, enveloping lows.

Soon I was sitting on the floor, sobbing. My eyes didn’t water anymore, but I still went through the motions. I held my gray plastic hands to my face, and touched them to my cheeks. I felt the subtle vibrations as motors moved my eyes around. I had never felt so happy, so myself. So real.

* * *

After a week I was able to clumsily walk around the hospital room, and they moved me to the recovery house. I met a few other converts there. There was a girl named Morgan from Seattle, a guy named Case from Kansas City, a few others. I mostly kept to myself.

I started speech therapy shortly after the move. Lots of reading convoluted sentences, but also singing, reading poetry, even some play-acting. I grew to love my voice. It was obviously synthetic, but that only made it feel more like a part of me.

Motor therapy was interesting. They asked me if I played any instruments. I told them I played bass. The therapist walked to a closet and returned with a bass made entirely out of carbon fiber. I asked why they made it from that, the therapist told me I’d see shortly, and handed me the Bass.

I immediately gripped the neck with far more force than I’d intended, denting the frets and the strings. I said I understood now.

Time flew. The solstice came and went, and by August I could speak clearly, play “Highway Star,” and wash my own chassis without damaging it. I could dress myself. I could walk without tripping over my feet.

On an evening in early August, I bade farewell to my fellow converts at the recovery house, and made my way to the train station. I could have taken a cab, or the bus, but I opted to walk. It was 8 miles and took all night, but I enjoyed every moment of it. Never tiring, stopping for food to recharge myself here and there at convenience stores and night markets.

I settled into my roomette for the trip back to Santa Cruz, looking out at Montevideo Bay. I saw my reflection in the window of my train, and for the first time, really took it in, with eyes that were my own.

[fool-tarnished]

"Remember me" - Chapter 3 - Kakashi Hatake x F!Reader

Synopsis : Born in Konoha, [Y/N] wasn't necessarily known as the most impressive or powerful ninja, but rather for her kindness and compassion. She became like an older sister to Naruto and a loyal, faithful friend to many ninjas in Konoha. Without even realizing it, she had earned a special place in the heart of one particular ninja with grey hair. But everything changed the day the Third Hokage entrusted her with a mission from which she would not return unscathed. Pairing : Kakashi Hatake x Female!Reader

List : Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

If you want to read Yamato's version, you can find it here.

Warnings : Memory loss, mind control (mk ultra inspired), violence, fluff in the end (if i forgot anything, tell me !)

Inspiration : Where did she go - Saleka

Words : ~ 3000

A/N : Hello there ! Here's the third chapter. I already wrote like 4 other chapters so yeaaah long way to go, sorry. This will end soon, pinky promise. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it. And sorry for the mistakes, I'm not a native english speaker. Thank you again for the likes, reblogs and comments ❤️

"Did you administer the treatment I entrusted to you?" The voice asking this question was deep, serious. It vaguely reminded you of the one from your first dream. You couldn’t pinpoint its exact origin, but the man speaking couldn’t have been far from you. The sounds and movements surrounding you were faint, almost imperceptible, and trying to make sense of them required immense effort.

Your head felt like it was about to explode, the pain excruciating, the dizziness relentless. You were lying down, your vision spinning wildly, with the sensation that everything around you was in constant motion.

Another voice then broke the silence: "As you instructed." That voice... Yubaba? "Good. Now, I’d like you to leave me alone with her." "She is-" "Leave."

The faint sound of retreating footsteps followed, leaving behind an oppressive silence. You realized the man had drawn closer. Despite your distorted vision, his towering silhouette was now unmistakable.

You tried to speak, to scream, but no sound came from your lips. Only your unsteady, labored breathing broke the silence. The man snapped his fingers several times. You couldn’t discern their exact position; the sense of instability all around you remained overwhelming.

"Good. I see the treatment is working." His voice sent shivers down your spine. A dark aura seemed to envelop him, and you felt vulnerable, utterly defenseless. "I believe we can begin."

With those words, and a soft, chilling laugh, he pressed his hand against your face, and everything went black.

________________________________________

Tsunade came to see you early that morning. You had been on your new treatment for over two weeks, and your headaches had nearly vanished. Iruka and Kurenai had stopped by to visit you. Although their stays were brief, their presence had brought you comfort. Kakashi, on the other hand, visited regularly to talk about Naruto. However, whenever you tried to bring up your shared past, he remained vague, quickly steering the conversation toward more general topics—either about you or himself.

You couldn’t hide the joy that filled you each time he showed up, sat by your side, and spent hours talking with you. Thanks to them, you had been able to piece together some fragments of your past, even though the memories themselves remained elusive. Occasionally, snippets would come back to you—sometimes clear, sometimes not. The photos they had brought helped you put a face to Naruto’s name: a blond ninja who sometimes appeared in your dreams. You now knew that his two close friends were Sakura and Sasuke.

“As you seem to have recovered physically and your headaches have subsided, we’ll have you take a test tonight,” Tsunade announced. Curious, you turned to her. “A test?” “Yes, a physical test. I’d like you to face someone. To see if your skills have vanished along with your memories.”

In truth, the Hokage intended to use this test to probe whether there was more to your memory loss. She sincerely believed your field abilities hadn’t diminished but wanted to confirm her suspicions.

“And who will I be facing?” you asked. “It will be Genma.” “Oh. Are you sure that… this is the right time?”

________________________________________

The test you were about to take seemed to be held in a closed room—an intimate and, most importantly, discreet setting. Tsunade didn’t want the news of this event to spread beyond the small, select group that had been invited. You had been led to the ground floor of the room, where you could make out ninjas observing from above. You spotted Kurenai, accompanied by someone who appeared to be Asuma. Kakashi was there too, standing next to Gai. Tsunade had sent Iruka to keep Naruto occupied, ensuring that he wouldn’t come looking for his teacher or for her.

A strange sensation stirred within you, accompanied by a strong sense of apprehension. You had no idea what you were capable of or what your opponent could do.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a friendly match. We only want to assess where you’re at. If anything goes wrong, we’ll stop immediately.” Reassured by her words, you nodded as the Hokage joined the other ninjas observing from above. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to calm yourself, focusing on steadying your breath. It was just a friendly sparring match, after all. If things didn’t go well, they could stop it right away—couldn’t they? It had to be that simple.

“Hey, [Y/N]. Ready?” Opening your eyes, you saw Genma already standing across from you.

He looked particularly composed, unbothered by the fight that was about to begin. You couldn’t help but wonder if he truly intended to fight with that senbon between his teeth.

Genma had been briefed about your return and your memory loss. Though the two of you had never been particularly close, you knew each other well enough from past missions and battles you’d fought together. He was familiar with your fighting style without being emotionally invested—a balance that Tsunade had likely deemed perfect.

You nodded, and that’s when the match began.

Taking a deep breath, you lunged at the ninja instinctively, without overthinking. He deflected your initial strikes with little effort, sensing both the automatic nature of your movements and a subtle undercurrent of hesitation. You fought the way you used to, but something was different. Genma noticed it immediately. It wasn’t alarming given your current situation, but it was a detail he filed away in the back of his mind.

As the exchanges continued, still mechanical in nature, Kakashi closely observed the scene, analyzing every move. He, too, noted the slight differences in your techniques compared to the past. However, what concerned him more was the hesitation. To him, it didn’t seem like the hesitation of someone afraid to miss a strike. Instead, it felt like the hesitation of someone afraid to hit harder than necessary—something you didn’t even appear to realize yourself.

The fight continued for a while longer, and Genma decided to raise the stakes to push you further. He sent you flying a short distance away, catching you off guard with the sudden change in his approach. The kunai in your uniform pocket slipped out during your fall, landing a few steps ahead of you.

“You’ll have to choose, or I’ll choose for you.”

A faint, shrill sound accompanied the sudden appearance of a voice in your head.

“Would you know how to make good use of a second chance if I gave it to you?”

You began to get up, one hand clutching your head, hoping the sharp pain and the noise would fade. Your other hand instinctively grabbed the kunai. Kakashi noticed the movement, one that might have seemed trivial at first glance. Meanwhile, the Hokage frowned, her expression tense. This was the moment she had been waiting for, and she was prepared to intervene, as were the other ninjas who had been briefed before your arrival.

Genma was surprised to see that you were now faster, more aggressive, and far less hesitant. He found it harder to predict your moves, though so far, the kunai hadn’t touched him. As the intensity of your strikes increased, he noticed a shift in your gaze. It was no longer the same as when the fight began. It was something entirely different.

For your part, you attacked without fully understanding how you were doing it. Your actions felt automatic, the hesitation gone, as if driven by the rhythmic noise in your head and the short phrases or single words spoken by that voice—the one that filled you with terror.

Before long, you had brought Genma to the ground—or had he let it happen? Either way, the kunai at his throat was not part of the deal. He grit his teeth, feeling the cold metal of the blade pressed dangerously close to his skin. Your gaze radiated anger, hatred, and pain—a storm of emotions that was anything but reassuring. The brunette struggled to hold your wrists back, trying to keep the weapon from piercing him.

Relief washed over him when he caught sight of Tsunade, Gai, and Asuma. The Hokage stood directly in front of you as the other two quickly grabbed your arms and pulled them away from Genma.

Freed from your grip, Genma scrambled to his feet, rubbing his neck where the blade had grazed him. The cut was shallow, not serious—but the look in your eyes was far more dangerous.

Suddenly, you dropped the kunai, yanking one arm free from Gai’s hold to clutch your head. The pain was still searing, though the voice in your head began to grow quieter. Your eyes closed tightly, and Tsunade motioned for Asuma to let go of you.

“There’s no point in trying to fight it.”

Both hands pressed against your head, you seemed to be trying to block out the noise. Tsunade crouched in front of you, gently placing her hands over yours.

“Bring me the Nine-Tails’ jinchūriki.”

“Please… I want it to stop. I want him to stop.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to draw a look of surprise from the Hokage. She wasted no time initiating a healing jutsu to ease the pain and calm the storm within you.

________________________________________

After the incident, Tsunade escorted you back to your room. She had instructed the other ninjas to return home, signaling that they would likely regroup later to discuss the situation. The only words you managed to say to her before she left were:

“I’m sorry about Genma. I—I’m truly sorry.”

She looked at you for a moment but said nothing, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lay down in the darkness, unable to stop replaying what had just happened.

Meanwhile, the copy ninja was struggling to process what he had witnessed. Tsunade had warned him, but he hadn’t expected to see something like that so soon. He was deeply worried, though the Hokage had instructed him to observe without interfering. Questions raced through his mind, but above all, he wondered what state you must be in now.

What had driven you to attack Genma without holding back? What was causing these sudden headaches? What was happening to you? And who was the man whose voice haunted you relentlessly?

Tsunade closed the door to your room with a sigh, leaning against the wall. Kakashi was there, staring at the floor. In truth, he had followed the two of you ever since the test ended.

“That wasn’t really her fighting Genma. At least, not during the second part of the match.”

Kakashi’s words carried a heavy weight. It couldn’t have been you—it couldn’t have been your own will. Not you, not from what he knew of you, memory loss or not.

“That’s what I feared,” Tsunade replied. “She whispered, begging for ‘him’ to stop before I eased her pain.”

The silver-haired ninja turned his gaze toward the Hokage, his concern now plainly visible on his face.

“I don’t know what kind of enemy is behind this scheme, but we need to keep Naruto out of it for now.”

“He’ll find out eventually, Lady Hokage. We’re only delaying the inevitable.”

“I have a bad feeling about this. And Naruto… he’s unpredictable.”

“I think he’s capable of hearing the hard truth. It’ll be far worse if we keep it from him.”

As she began to walk down the long hospital corridor, Tsunade cast a final glance at the copy ninja.

“We’ll keep it a secret for now. I assume you’re planning to stay with her tonight?”

The remark took Kakashi by surprise, and his eyes widened.

“I’m only going to check on her, Lady Hokage.”

Once Tsunade had turned away, she let out a soft chuckle and murmured under her breath, “Be careful, Kakashi. Don’t get too close to the flames.”

________________________________________

The door creaked open softly, but you didn’t bother to turn around. You stayed lying on the bed, lost in a fog of confusion and reflection. Silence lingered until you felt the mattress shift slightly beneath you.

“Are you okay?”

Kakashi’s voice reached you, gentle but filled with concern. He was there, likely seated on the edge of the bed.

“No,” you replied flatly.

“Hmm. You know... Genma is fine, and what happened—it wasn’t your fault.”

“By my hand, but not my fault. Is that it?”

A brief silence followed your sharp retort.

“I didn’t want things to turn out this way. I—I didn’t want this,” you murmured, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

“I know. That’s why I’m telling you—it wasn’t your fault.”

A few tears slipped down your cheeks. Kakashi, who had been sitting with his back to you, noticed your subtle, uneven movements. The moonlight spilling into the room illuminated your figure just enough for him to see that you were crying.

Instinctively, the silver-haired ninja placed a hand on your shoulder. His thumb began to trace slow, soothing circles, a small gesture to offer you comfort.

The touch stirred something indescribable within you, but you were in no state to resist or question it. Suddenly, you sat up, leaving Kakashi momentarily stunned, and before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his torso.

What was happening to you? Why were you acting like this around him?

Kakashi, caught off guard by the unexpected embrace from behind, didn’t move at first. He was torn—part of him wanted to push you away for your own good, while another part, the part his heart screamed at him to listen to, wanted nothing more than to hold you close.

When a few seconds passed with no reaction from him, you began to withdraw your arms from his chest.

“I—I’m sorry… I didn’t mean—”

You were cut off abruptly as Kakashi turned and pulled you into his arms, enveloping you completely. You couldn’t see his face, but his eyes were fixed on your trembling form, glistening with unshed tears.

His thoughts raced, swirling in chaos. Seeing you like this, so broken by what you were going through, left him feeling utterly powerless. He couldn’t stand it. He had faced countless hardships with you before—on missions, in moments connected to Naruto—but seeing you crushed by something so incomprehensible, unable to help you, was unbearable.

He rested his chin gently atop your head and closed his eyes. One of his hands moved to your hair, stroking it softly, trying to soothe you and bring you some semblance of peace.

It had been so long since he last held you in his arms that he could hardly believe it was real. So long, in fact, that he’d almost forgotten you didn’t even remember him anymore. So long that his emotions, long suppressed, now refused to be ordered into anything resembling calm.

Gradually calming down, you let yourself sink into the comforting warmth of Kakashi's embrace and closed your eyes, your hands clutching tightly at his green uniform. When he felt the tension leave your body and managed to steady his own racing heartbeat, the silver-haired ninja opened his eyes gently.

“Let me tell you about one of our missions,” he murmured softly in the stillness of the room. “It was before I started leading Team 7, the one I told you about. You were still in the Anbu back then.”

Keeping your eyes closed, you listened intently to his voice. You had been waiting for this moment since the first time he came to see you. Fearing he might stop if he thought you were awake, you remained perfectly still, feigning sleep.

“Your team joined us as reinforcements on an S-rank mission. Thanks to your intervention, the mission was a success... But that mission stands out in my memory for another reason.”

Kakashi shifted slightly, sitting up straighter while still holding you close. A faint chuckle escaped from beneath his mask.

“Even with your mask on, I could sense how worried you were when you saw our injuries. You fought, but… you weren’t really focused on the battle. I caught you staring at me for a long moment before you even engaged the enemy. The last time I saw you fight like that was during another mission, when I was injured.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“You barely dodged several dangerous attacks during that fight. All because you were too preoccupied, worrying about me and thinking only of patching me up. The second the battle ended, you ran straight to me and started tending to my wounds. I kept telling you I was fine, but you were so stubborn that I eventually gave in.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a soft sigh.

“And when you took off your mask, I saw the look in your eyes. It scared me. I was terrified that you could have been hurt because you were so distracted by my condition. But what frightened me even more… was seeing how much you cared about me. You cared so deeply that you forgot your own survival, just because I was injured.”

You recalled how he had avoided giving a direct answer about the nature of your relationship, and now, you were starting to understand why. Faint glimpses of that event began to surface in your mind. They were blurry and fragmented, but undeniably there. And now, you were beginning to realize that perhaps he wasn’t just a friend.

“What happened earlier, with Genma… I know you would never have done that. That wasn’t you. And… I’m going to help you find your way back to who you’ve always been. I don’t know who’s hurting you like this, but… I’m here now, and I’m not letting you go again. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

Someone asked me to tag them on updates, so here is the taglist. If you also want to be tagged, tell me ! :) @strflp

[hayleythesugarbowl]

U should write more Ian x reader, like a besties to lovers one? No pressure if ur busy ofc <3

More Than Friends || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: you have been ignoring your growing feelings for your best friend ian, but when you are chosen to do a romantic scene together will those feelings stay hidden?

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mild cursing

a/n: ahh thank you so much for this request ml, i’ve been meaning to write for ian again!! hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful day!! 🎀☁️🍒

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Ok, hear me out. The story is ‘getting a root canal’ but we make it a full on musical with production numbers and everything.”

     Angela’s loud voice broke over the chatter you had been drowning out and you looked across the table. 

     You had been sitting in an early-morning writers meeting discussing ideas for a new sketch for what felt like hours. 

     Whoever thought it would be a good idea to make you and everyone else be creative at 8:00am….

     “Angela,” Chanse chided.

     “What? I had a dentist appointment this morning and I was inspired.”

     “Anyone else have any ideas that don’t have the words ‘root canal’ in them?” Chanse asked.

     “What screams Smosh more than a root canal musical!” Angela looked around the room for help.

     Alas, it didn’t look like you were getting anywhere anytime soon. 

    You watched as Ian, who sat to your left, let his head slip from his hand where it had been rested on the table.

     “Look alive, Mr. President-of-the-company,” you whispered to him, covering the fact that you had definitely been watching him longer than was friend-like.

     Looks like you weren’t the only one who suffered from drowsiness that morning.

     “I was totally paying attention,” Ian yawned. “Something about boats.”

     You rolled your eyes and smiled at your best friend. You’d known Ian since you two were little—in fact, he was the reason you'd got your job at Smosh all those years back.

     You’d been staying with him for the past week while your apartment was being renovated and you'd definitely stayed up too late last night watching reruns of friends. Which probably contributed to you both nodding off during this meeting.

   “Twenty bucks says someone suggests kiss currency part two,” you whispered to Ian.

     “Are you kidding? No way I’m gonna take you up on that, I don’t have spare cash on me.”

     “Did someone say kissing?” Courtney waggled her eyebrows. 

     “Yeah, (Y/n) was just begging me to suggest a kissing sketch,” Ian teased.

     You smacked Ian’s arm, feeling your cheeks warm. “I was not!”

     “Ian just wants to kiss you, that’s all,” Anthony leaned over his friend to tell you conspiratorially.

     Ian pretended to gag. “I’d rather kiss Shayne.”

     “Hey!” Shayne threw up his hands in outrage.

     You laughed along with everyone but you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your fist around your coffee mug.

     You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when you had begun to have feelings for Ian that were more than friendly. One minute he was just your best friend Ian and the next he was this funny, attractive guy who made your pulse race when he touched your arm or gave you one of his smiles. 

     You knew Ian didn’t return your feelings—you were sure of that. This new development was entirely one sided. Which was why you were absolutely, definitely never going to tell him. Ever.

     You sighed as you watched Ian lean away from you and towards Anthony to whisper something to him.     

     Everyone was silent for a moment and you leaned back in your seat, running a hand through your hair. 

     “Hey, to piggyback off of the kissing thing,” Anthony started, his voice breaking through the silence, “what if we did an ‘every dramatic love confession scene ever’? It’s been a while since we’ve done that style of video.”

     “Ooh good idea,” Ian said, “Those ‘we want the old Smosh’ people will love that. I can already see the views.”

     “Always ‘the content’ with you,” you teased him.

     “He’s right though,” Spencer chimed in, “Especially if we had you and Ian do some scenes together. People would eat that up; it’ll give ‘em more material for their edits. I’m talking Shourtney part two.”

     You watched as Shayne and Courtney looked at each other and grinned. Damn it, why couldn’t you and Ian be like them!

     But, Spencer wasn’t wrong. Ever since you had begun working at Smosh, fans had been convinced you and Ian were dating. You guys had always laughed about all of the comments and posts together. 

     You and Ian? As if!

     But lately, as you watched the fan edits and read the YouTube comments, you couldn’t help but wish that you and Ian actually were what all of these people thought you were. 

     “I can see it now: April 1st, 2025, Ian and (Y/n). Shourtney part two” Ian echoed Spencer’s comment and nodded. “Zach Justice and Tara level shipping.”

     “You know who they are, grandpa?” You snorted.

     “For the last time, I’m four months older than you!”

     You laughed as Ian spoke again.

     “I mean, I’m in if you’re in,” he turned to you,  “For the sketch. If you don’t mind pretending to be into me. I know it’ll be hard not to fall hopelessly in love with me.” 

     “How will I ever manage,” you deadpanned sarcastically, even as your palms began to feel sweaty. Ignoring your feelings on a daily basis was hard enough, let alone doing a love scene together. But you couldn’t very well refuse and have everyone, including Ian, wonder why. 

     Besides, it could be fun. It’d been a while since you’d done a sketch, and regardless of how you felt about Ian, he was still your best friend and you would get to spend a lot of time on set with him. 

     You took a deep breath. You were probably going to regret the next words that came out of your mouth. 

     “Let’s do it”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “Shut up and kiss me,” you said, throwing your pretend purse to the ground as you stepped forwards.”

     “Not until you promise me that I’m the only one,” Ian sniffed dramatically. “I cant lose you again, baby.”

     “It’s only you,” you yelled, “It’s always only been you.”

     “Then kiss me,” Ian took a step towards you. “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed anyone before.”

     “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” you leaned in. 

     “And then we kiss,” Ian said in a lighter voice, breaking character as you ended the scene. “I feel like it should be raining in the background of this, damn. Ooh, note to self: talk to them about fake rain.”

     “Right,” you smiled shakily, trying not to let the scene have affected you. You were at Ian’s place—your apartment still wasn’t livable—and Ian had suggested you rehearse your scene again for the shoot the next day. 

     You had just received the script and were already panicking a how real it all was. The two characters in the scene were friends who fell in love with each other. Just your luck.

     You silently cursed whoever had written the whole thing. 

     “So do you want to rehearse the kiss before tomorrow?” Ian’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

     “Oh, um, I think it might be better if we just wing it. You know, realistic first kiss and all.”

     “As long as you don’t pull a Jennifer Lawrence on me,” Ian laughed, “No garlic fries.”

     You placed a hand to your chest in mock surprise, “Wow Ian, two pop culture references in one day? I’m so proud.”

     “I learned from the best,” Ian booped your nose and you felt your heart flutter. 

     You flopped down on your couch-bed in the middle of the living room and kicked your pajama-pant-clad legs out in front of you. 

     Ian sat down next to you and picked up the TV remote. “Do you mind?”

     You shook your head as he turned on the television. A show was playing that you’d definitely seen before, but you weren’t paying attention. 

     You couldn’t focus on anything but Ian’s presence next to you as he scooted closer to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you. He smelled like pine and soap and a hint of the day’s cologne and the scent was so familiar and so damn attractive that you couldn’t ever imagine a time when you hadn’t wanted him all over you. How had you been so ignorant then?

     You rested your head on Ian’s chest and let out a sigh. All of this was so normal—you two laying there, watching TV, falling asleep next to each other—and yet it felt so different. 

     Ian kissed the top of your head gently and mumbled “Goodnight, (Y/n).”

     You muttered a soft, “‘Night.”

     Sometimes, when you were really desperate, you imagined that your best friend felt the same way about you that you did about him. In all the little ways that he made you feel special and loved, you found an almost something. It was times like these that you let yourself imagine, what if?

     But then you reminded yourself that you and Ian had always been this way. The only difference was your pulse racing and your heart jumping into your throat whenever he looked at you or touched you. 

     You let your eyes close as the sounds of whatever comedy was on played in the background.

     It was strange how you could feel so anxious and so comfortable at the same time. Despite all the new uneasiness that came with your romantic feelings towards Ian, you were still calmed by his presence. You still knew him better than anyone else. You still wanted this forever. Which is why you couldn’t let yourself change things. 

     You felt Ian wrap his arm around you and you shifted slightly on the bed. This felt right, you thought. How could you dare mess that up with unrequited love making everything difficult?

     Because that was scary. Changing everything was scary. Losing him was scary. But this? This was comfortable, you thought. And it was true. 

     You had never felt more comfortable before in your life.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You had never felt more uncomfortable in your life. 

     You’d thought last night was awkward, reading through the script with Ian. But today, as you reminded yourself you’d have to kiss him and not make it seem like it meant anything to you, you were sweating through your floral-pattern dress. 

     “Hey (Y/n)!”

     You spun around to find Ian wearing a full on tuxedo, complete with a boutonnière and everything. 

     “Wow, you look—”

     “Like prom threw up on me? Yeah, I know,” Ian joked, “But you look like the lead in a romcom so thumbs up costume coordinator.”

     You looked down at your dress. You had gone to costuming earlier on and had just come out of hair and makeup. You hoped you hadn't already sweated it all off. 

     You looked back up at Ian. He looked—well, aside from drop dead gorgeous—like he had eaten something that didn’t quite agree with him.

     You opened your mouth to ask if he was feeling ok when you were called to set by one of the directors.

     “Looks like that’s us,” Ian smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

     You walked over to the set that you would be using, which looked like the outside of a building that could have been a school or a convention center. Apparently Angela had just had it lying around from a previous play. It looked really realistic, almost too realistic.

     You took a deep breath as you stepped onto set and Ian followed you. 

     You got this, you told yourself, you know all of your lines and you’re not going to mess this up.

     You looked out at the rest of the Smosh cast and crew, busy on set or waiting for their scenes. 

     “Ok and rolling…” you heard the director call.

     You prepared yourself. Ian stepped to the side of you. “You ready for this?”

     “Yeah,” you whispered, “definitely. Are you ok? You look pretty pale.”

     “I’m good,” Ian assured you with a nod, “just ate some weird pistachios at the snack table. I’d stay away if I were you.”

     “Noted,” you giggled.

     “…And Action!”

     You immediately were thrown into the scene. Ian had the first line and you tried to get into character.

     “What is your problem, Amy?” Ian said.

     “My problem?” you spat, trying to channel your inner romcom protagonist, “Are you really going to make me sit here and spell it out for you, Jake?”

     “That’d be nice,” Ian—Jake—scoffed.

     “Fine,” you made your voice shaky, “You wanna know what my problem is? My problem is that you came here with Veronica when you knew that all I wanted to do was be your date tonight.”

     “How would I know that? Was I supposed to just guess? You’re my best friend, Amy, why wouldn’t you just tell me!”

     “You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” You—Amy—asked him. “Because you’re my best friend. That’s why. I’ve had to sit here and watch you with girl after girl while all I wanted was as to be one of them.”

     You stepped closer to Ian as you kept saying your lines, trying to summon tears “I have been in love with you for years. Years, Jake. But I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose this.”

     You gestured between the two of you, trying to clear your mind and do what you had rehearsed. You refused to let any of your own thoughts slip in. 

     You continued, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. So go ahead. It’s ruined now. Go back to your date and have the best night with her. I’ll just be here on the sidelines like I always have been.”

     You turned and pretended to walk away and as planned Ian grabbed your wrist and you spun around.

     “You don’t get it,” he started, “I love you. I always have loved you. From the moment I met you, I have loved you. I love the way you tie your hair up when you’re working on something. I love the way your nose scrunches up when something amuses you. I love your perfume and the way it kinda makes me dizzy when I’m near you. I love you. I have never loved anyone more.”

      Ian’s eyes were intense as he looked down at you. 

     “And I never told you because, look at you. You’re way out of my league, I was lucky to have you as a friend. But, it’s always been you. I love you so much and I can’t believe you love me back. I’ll keep saying it as long as I am still breathing. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

     Even though it was acting, you’d never seen Ian like this. Not even when you were rehearsing. This was raw and emotional and it was hard not to let yourself believe it was real. The air was thick and you were both breathing heavy, the room silent except for the synchronized sound of your breathing. You stepped towards Ian, preparing to tell him to ‘shut up and kiss you’, as the script said, but he kept speaking.

     “I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to say all this. But, I want to be more than friends. And now that you know, will you be  more than friends with me, (Y/n)?”

     You jolted at his use of your name and not your character’s. None of this was in the script, as far as you knew.

     “Ian—” You whispered, looking around. 

     He took your hands, swallowing hard. “This is real, (Y/n). And I meant every word.”

     You couldn’t process what was happening. You searched Ian’s face and he looked honest and hopeful and a little scared. But he was sincere. You didn’t see any evidence that this was some kind of practical joke. Was Ian saying…

     You moved to stand even closer to him. 

     “Shut up and kiss me,” you said hesitantly, saying the line you were supposed to say earlier. 

     A slow smile came to Ian’s face, getting what you were doing. “Not until you promise me that I’m the only one, I cant lose you again, baby.”

     “It’s only you,” you whispered, “It’s always only been you.”

     “Then kiss me,” Ian said. “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed anyone before.”

     “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” you leaned in. 

     And scene, You thought, So much for not letting this be real.

     And then your lips were on his, and you were kissing him. And Ian was kissing you back. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. You ran your hands through his hair and you felt him shiver beneath your touch.

     As you kissed Ian, your best friend, you silently thanked your luck—that this had happened, that Ian returned your feelings.

     Ian pulled away gently, brushing your hair back from your face.

     “Wow,” you breathed, “that was—”

     “That was everything I’d imagined it would be,” Ian said.

     And then, all of a sudden, the entire studio burst into applause. You looked out at all of your friends and cast mates clapping and cheering for you. Had they been in on this the whole time? Had they all known that Ian would break character and confess real feelings for you?

     “Just to be sure,” Ian said, “You do actually like me back right? You weren’t just finishing the scene?”

     You laughed, “Yes, Ian, I like you. A lot.”

     “Phew,” Ian laughed, calling out to the people gathered, “It’s a yes guys, she said yes! And sorry about ruining the shoot!”

     “You kidding? That was the most realistic love scene I’ve ever seen. How could we not use that?” Anthony called back.

     You giggled and placed your hands on Ian’s chest, “About that, I didn’t know you could be so cheesy and romantic.”

     “Only for you,” he said. “And I wouldn’t say cheesy. Poetic and beautiful, maybe.”

     You rolled your eyes at him, but you’d never been happier. You wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for days. And you didn’t want to. 

     All this time, as you’d been battling your own feelings, Ian had had feelings for you. You no longer had to pretend, because everything you wanted with Ian was already happening. 

     You smiled up at him, “I love you, Ian.”

     You had said it so many times platonically, but it felt different now. And yet the same.

     “I love you so much, (Y/n).”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You put your hair up into a ponytail as you walked towards Ian’s office. You had changed out of your romcom dress and back into the clothes you wore to the studio today. Now that you were done with the shoot, Ian had said he wanted to take you out. Your first real date. 

     You rounded the corner and went to enter Ian’s doorway, but you stopped when you heard voices. 

     “Hey, thanks man,” Ian’s voice carried into the hallway. “Thanks for suggesting that sketch.”

     “Anything for my friend,” Anthony said. “When your best friend whispers ‘hey can you suggest a sketch where me and (Y/n) have to be romantic together’ you step up.”

     You strained to hear. What? Was Ian saying he had planned that whole thing? He was the one who wanted to do that sketch?

     “Besides,” Anthony continued, “I didn’t even really do anything. You wrote the whole thing. Speaking of which, damn man, warn somebody! I’ll bring tissues to set next time.”

     You couldn’t believe it! That entire scene, about two random characters, Ian had written it all for you and him. 

     “You wrote all that?” You stepped into Ian’s office a look of shock on both men’s faces.

     “(Y/n), how much of that did you hear?” Ian asked nervously.

     “Enough to be even more in love with you than when I walked over here, if that’s possible.”

     Ian looked relieved as he came over to you and put his arms around you. “Well, then yeah, I wrote it. And I meant every word I said about loving you.”

     “Wow, I gotta work on my speech writing skills,” you teased, “I didn’t know I was best friends with The Bard himself this whole time.”

     “It’s a gift,” Ian smiled, kissing you softly. “And I had plenty of time to practice being poetic, being in love with you for years.

     “I’m going to go,” Anthony’s voice interrupted, “because I feel like a third wheel and not because my eyes are watering—damn allergies. I’m so happy for both of you.”

     Anthony left the room and you both burst into laughter. 

    Ian placed a soft kiss to your lips again, and you smiled. You couldn’t believe this was your reality. 

     Some of your best memories and moments were with Ian as a best friend. And now you got to experience a whole new world with Ian your boyfriend. You couldn’t wait.

     You were wrong the night before, you thought, as Ian wrapped his arms around you.     

     This, this was the most comfortable you’d ever been. 

     “Hey, I hate to interrupt,” Angela peeked into the room, “but now that we’re done with the operation-get-Ian-and-(Y/n)-together sketch—congrats by the way—where are we at on Root Canal the Musical?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope y’all enjoyed this!! if you did, check out my other ian fic + my ian hcs 🤭🍓💌

[amityahasfanartnowapparently]

That Time Fox's Fat Tits Saved The Galaxy - Chapter 8 - Amity Ax - (INTRO ONLY)

Hello! Chapter 8 is still very very VERY much in progress, but I got inspired to release the first two pages early. Think of it as an early holiday present :D

If you'd rather save it for when the whole chapter is out on ao3, DON'T look under the cut ;)

Also DISCLAIMER: this intro is liable to change at some point while I'm editing everything else. And consider all the tags in my fic applicable to this post too. You've been warned.

DroidBoy6969:

ok, like, I get why everybody is talking about the tits. I really do. don’t get me wrong, they’re great tits!! but that ass needs some appreciation too! Just LOOK at it! the MUSCLES, the ROUNDNESS, the TIGHT AS KARK PANTS—it has EVERYTHING

TallMannSpotted:  @DroidBoy6969 YESSS I want to be those pants <3 <3 <3

whats_love090992:  @DroidBoy69 if this is a non-tits appreciation post, I’d like to give an honorable mention to the arms and back. Hot damn. I want him to pick me up and snap me in half like a 2x4. And that v-line in the front… *chef’s kiss* Perfect. Phenomenal. Breathtaking.

xXx_R4nc0rD3str0y3r_xXx: @DroidBoy6969 get out of here butt boy this is a tit-man only site!!!!

[See 21938451 more replies]

Unfortunately_YourMother:

everyone unfollow me right now this is going to be the only thing I’m gonna post about from now on. fuck. shit. Ohmygawdzzz

kenobis_glistening_abs444:

HUGE W for the war effort that this absolute UNIT be out here serving the people, if u know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

KittyqueeN:

No joke, I just clocked out for like an hour watching this guy run on repeat. the kriffing bounce is like… hypnotic. Literal drool down my face rn. I can feel the heft of those bonkers in my SOUL

dontlookatme.:

b…boobies…

cock_expert_420001:

Look, I’ll pay any amount, PLEASE more content like this @TheRepublic. I could feel myself becoming roughly 50% more patriotic just watching this compilation

ZDprofessional:

YESSS YES YES YEEEAAAS!!! OHHH MY GODS. OH MY GODDSSS BROOOOO!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I ALSDGJDkjfifherALSDGJKHAG GRRRRRR!!!!! GRRRARRAARRRGRGRG! BRGRGRGRaaaAAAAAARRAR!GGRRGAA! I’M CRAZZY IM CRAZY IM CRAZY. YOU HAVE NO IDEAA YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!!!!!! sorry ok. I’m normal now. cool tits.

NautilaRulz:  @ZDprofessional Dude.

TiLeavesComments:  @ZDprofessional somebody get this fine gentlebeing some water. they’re about to die of Thirst

RyurayguYuhahyrrararr:  @ZDprofessional rabies core

[See 103020 more replies]

H00tH00tMutherfarker:

I can’t believe this is real. What are they FEEDING this one to make knockers like that??? He’s got some Enormous Boobs. Absolutely Perfect Pecs. A Rockin’ Pair of Hooters. A Prize-Winning Set of Black Melons. Some Tasty Teats. A Couple of Family-Sized Milk Jugs. Some Bountiful Baps. Some Gorgeous Gazoingas…[read more]

JustSomeGuy:

Listen, I get that everybody is horny about this, but I’d like to say that this trooper is like, actually NUTS. I went back to the OG video and timed it, he was in a dead sprint for like a full HOUR. The next time you’re out of breath climbing the stairs, remember this man’s existence and weep in shame. 

NotMyOrder:

Clones really do be built different…

Drgahamne14156994:

Hello, I’m Dr. Garm Hamne. I’m a doctor from Corellia and earn 600k annually. I’m looking for a sugar baby who…[read more]

TheCommenterrrrrr:

Screaming crying throwing up I need him to choke me

FoShadeDingKing!!:

Damn where do I gotta go to spend the night with one of those

RRoller:

This is fake. You bantha-brained morons are falling for a government plant. This has sphotoshop written all over it.

N3varG0naGiv3:  @RRoller It’s OK bro, just count backwards from 10 while you inhale the copium. It’ll be over in a snap :)

U_Up?:  @RRoller because that’s what I’D do if I was trying to sphotoshop a government-approved thirst trap into looking so good it brainwashes the minds of millions. I’d make the trooper running laps in the back of the vid busty enough to belong in an art museum instead of using editing magic to make the group of buff, sweaty men duking it out in the foreground look like living gods. what a totally reasonable conclusion you’ve come to 

Nvr_Gn4_Letudwn:  @RRoller bruh just grow up and admit you wanna fuck him so bad it makes you looks stupid XD

[See 348079 more replies]

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (3)

ー☆ Chapter 3: Itch

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: use of the word "fuck" ー☆ Word count: 4.2k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone, here's my present for you all. Excuse me if this chapter is a little confusing, although I hope it isn't, I tried hard to put her feelings into words and describe it accordingly. The taglist is open, so let me know if you're interested. Please listen to the song in the playlist (Itch) before or while reading! Thank you and I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is always very much appreciated!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

『There's a rumbling

In my head

It's getting louder

Louder』

The weather hasn’t drastically improved nor gotten better even a little bit as the sky was grey and the wind blew harshly. Before my mother left for work she warned me to have an umbrella with myself today as it could start pouring at any given moment, and I listened to her. I swear to God that woman has some sort of supranatural sense as her predictions are always right. I didn’t have classes today, but I had to work on one of my assignment’s, and after realizing that if I were to stay at home I’d be laying in my bed all day, I dressed up in comfortable clothes and packed what I had to bring with myself before I headed to my university’s library.

The bus ride was quick as traffic has dispersed since the early hours of the morning, making it easier to get to my destination. After getting off the bus I headed to the closest coffee shop, knowing I would need some caffeine if I planned on not falling asleep at the library. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes the quiet and warm ambience gets to me, and without meaning to, I fall asleep at the table instead of studying diligently. I didn’t plan on doing that today as I was nearing the deadline. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but I didn’t deal well with stress and it was currently eating me up as I ran over on my phone of the assignment’s requirements while I entered the main building of my university. It was buzzing with life as everyone was busy doing something and I nodded at the familiar faces before beelining it for the stairs, headed to the top floor. The main building was an old one and it was rather cold inside at all times, the library being the only one actually heated up enough that you wouldn’t freeze during the winter. I sighed in content as I pushed open the big doors, warmth seeping into my bones instantly. It wasn’t too cold outside, but I forgot to wear a jacket today, and the tank top and hoodie I was wearing over it wasn’t keeping me warm enough. The library was quiet and the ceiling lights were dim inside, desk lamps turned on by the students having to study. I walked past the front desk and greeted the librarian quietly, trying to ignore the disapproving look she threw at my coffee in hand. I wouldn’t be using any books; I just needed a desk and chair to be able to do my homework. So, before she could ask me to leave or throw away my coffee, I turned around and speedwalked down the main lobby, headed towards the next room where the large tables were placed in four rows. It was the study room, basically.

I sighed and took a sip of my coffee, looking around for a secluded spot, away from prying eyes, as I slowly walked down the middle aisle, appreciating the sweet taste of my Caramel Macchiato. Nobody really paid me any mind and I was glad as I didn’t feel like striking up a conversation with anyone. I spotted an empty seat to the left at a table where not many sat, and decided to claim it as mine as I turned left, going down another row of table and chairs. One student threw me a nasty look as my tote bag accidentally crashed against their arm and I gave them a cheeky smile before continuing to walk, not exactly sorry for disturbing them. I took another sip of my coffee as with my other hand I placed my phone back inside my back pocket, and noticed someone kind of familiar. My eyes narrowed as I continued walking towards them as they sat in the way of my claimed spot. I didn’t mean to stare, but I couldn’t tell straight away who it was as their head hung low and shoulders were slouched as they were writing in a notebook. He had headphones over his ears and was bobbing his head to the rhythm of the music, and as I got closer, my steps slightly faltered. I stopped mid-sip as I realized who it was. Mingi remained oblivious to my surprised face as I quickly snapped out of it and quickly took off, whizzing past him and the long table he sat at, adamant on ignoring him and finally reaching my own seat. He hadn’t noticed me, after all, so I didn’t think he was aware that I was here too. My mouth pulled into a grimace as the thought of being at the same place as Mingi was rather inconvenient right now, I wasn’t in the mood to face him today. I didn’t feel like arguing or bickering, and if he were to approach me, I knew it was inevitable. I sighed as I reached my seat and allowed my bag to fall onto the table, creating a light bang. Someone from the other end of the table glanced at me, but quickly went back to their work.

I placed my coffee on the table and sat in my chair, opening my tote bag. I quickly emptied the bag of its contents, grateful that I haven’t forgotten anything at home. I placed my big sketchbook in front of me as I organized the rest of my things on the table. My smaller pencil case was placed next to my coffee, where my right hand was. Then, the bigger pencil case which contained all sorts of pens and pencils, was placed in the middle, just above my sketchbook. I placed the hard cover sketchbook, my personal one in which I always draw and consider my journal, to my left where it wouldn’t bother me as I worked. I placed the book on color theory I have brought with myself on top of my sketchbook and opened it, flipping through the pages, searching for the one I was supposed to read before starting my assignment. We were supposed to make an abstract drawing using acrylics. I sighed as I found the page and realized I had to read five before starting to draw. Five weren’t many pages, but it felt like I didn’t have the mental capacity to read. Seems like the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet. But I had to do it, so, after taking another sip of my coffee, I placed my elbow on the table and after placing my cheek in my palm, I started reading with a loud sigh. My eyes ran over the words lazily only half paying attention to them as I felt my phone buzz in my jean’s back pocket. I was itching to check the message, but I knew I wouldn’t do any studying if I was to check my phone right now.

As I was reading the third page, I heard firm footsteps stomping in my direction, but I didn’t look up. I have finally somehow found the power to concentrate on my task, and besides, I was in a library, it was probably another student headed to sit at the table I was sat at. After all, I have chosen this table because it had few people who could bother me. However, I soon became aware that the approaching person stopped right across me, and as I looked up confused, my mouth involuntarily dropped a little. The chair was already pulled back and before I could even complain, Mingi’s lean body dropped into the chair as he pulled it closer to the table. His things were gathered in his arms and he very loudly dropped them onto the table, creating the other student at the table to glare in his direction. For a second, I found myself speechless as I stared at a very casual looking Mingi. His black hair was pushed back, his forehead on display for the first time, and his eyes had no makeup as he blinked at me through his black glasses. I had no idea Mingi wears glasses? It was resting rather low on his tall nose and I snapped out of my staring as a lazy smirk appeared on his cherry-red lips.

“What are you doing?!” I whispered furiously, eyebrows furrowing as I placed my book on the table. Mingi’s smirk turned into a small smile.

“Catching up on some homework, and you?” Mingi’s answer made my eyebrows furrow even more. Did he seriously think I was interested in whatever he was here for?

“No!” My voice almost raised, but I was able to control it, “Here. With me—why did you come sit here?! The other table seemed perfectly fine to me—”

“Ah, so you have seen me.” Mingi seemed pleased with himself as he fished his phone out from underneath the three notebooks he had dumped on the table, “I just didn’t feel like sitting alone. Is that a problem?”

I opened my mouth to fire back a ‘yes’ at him, but found myself hesitating instead. I didn’t exactly understand his motives. He was sitting by himself up until now, who knows since when, so what changed now? Why did he want to sit with me all of a sudden? He was definitely only here to bother me.

“We’re not friends.” I raised my eyebrows at Mingi, voice sharp, “And you seemed pretty fine by yourself.”

Mingi just sighed and organized his notebooks, pushing two away from himself as he opened the other one. He grabbed his headphones from around his neck, but he didn’t lift them to his ear yet.

“Is it such a crime that I want to sit at the same table with you?” The defeat in Mingi’s voice took me off guard, and I gulped, jaw clenching as I avoided his disappointed gaze. What was he disappointed about? It’s not like we were friends. Did I say something wrong? And why should I care if I have hurt his feelings? I was only voicing the truth.

“I sat here because I want to be alone.” I threw him a sharp glare and Mingi’s lips turned into a thin line as he slid down in his chair. He wore a loose black t-shirt which reached below his elbows, jacket discarded on the chair next to his. He wore grey sweatpants too; it was the most casual I have seen him. Compared to how he would usually dress, this look gave him an aura of someone who you are safe with and radiates comfort. It was unusual compared to the always cocky, witty, and smirking Mingi. I didn’t know where to put him, it felt like he was vulnerable right now, almost showing a side of his I haven’t met yet. Could this be the real Mingi? Before I could start dwelling on such thing, I shook my head and the thought out of my mind.

“I won’t bother you.” Mingi tried to coerce me and I just sighed loudly and long, letting him know he was an inconvenience to me right now as I aggressively closed my book and pushed it aside. I knew enough about colors already, and I wasn’t in the mood to read anymore thanks to Mingi, who threw me off my sudden burst of motivation. I threw Mingi one last disapproving look before looking down and opening my sketchbook. I pulled my smaller pencil case closer to myself and opened that as well as I fished around for the black acrylic.

『There's a shaking

In my bones

It's getting stronger

Stronger』

I willed myself to ignore Mingi as I started tracing lines with the acrylic, shutting out every noise which could bother me as I sucked my lower lip between my teeth, wondering what I was drawing. Usually when I had an assignment, I had an idea of what the drawing would be about, but right now, I had no idea what I was doing and it didn’t feel nice. It made me feel like I was losing control, like I wasn’t myself. I grabbed the burgundy acrylic and darkened the right corner of the paper, fingers feeling oily from the tool I was using. I tried finding something in the lines, a vision, something which could give me guidance, but it was simply a mess and it caused me to feel defeated as I grabbed another color mindlessly, having stopped paying attention to the color combination. The one and only thing I should have paid attention to. But the drawing looked like nothing and my hand was moving faster as I traced lines and made circles on the paper, creating an amalgam of colors. The top of the drawing was dark and heavy, it made me feel mad and desperate the longer I looked at it. Then, the lower half of the drawing had the lighter colors, colors which felt like there was something good in the world, something worth living for. But the middle of the drawing remained blank and my hand halted as I became stuck. What was I supposed to do? Was I to connect the two worlds of whirling emotions? Was I to leave it blank because there were no existent roads leading the two together?

『There's a hunger

In my heart

It's full of promise

Promise』

And then I looked up, eyebrows drawn together as I felt numbness creep up into my chest, not finding a way out. I have forgotten Mingi was here, with me. And as our eyes connected, I realized he was here. And he was watching me. Lips slightly parted, his eyes seemed to hold a sincerity I have never seen in anyone else before, his eyebrows slightly raised. Suddenly, I felt breathless as his deep gaze kept me locked in, as he silenced my thoughts. I didn’t understand the look on his face, or what his eyes were trying to tell me, but suddenly my heart started beating so fast that I dropped the acrylic I had in my hand and gasped. Why was Mingi here? What did he want? Eyes turning into a glare, I looked down and furiously dug around in my pencil case, looking for the grey acrylic. I didn’t mean to do it, many times I don’t mean to do what I do, but my hand came crashing down against the table and then I was scrabbling at the blank space, creating a big nothing. A void. I paused for a second thinking that I have ruined the drawing and now I would have to start over, which was the smartest thing to do, probably. But for some reason, in the mess of scribble, I saw lines. Lines looking like paths, which were made to connect the top half and the bottom half of the drawing. I grabbed the yellow and purple acrylic and started tracing those lines, shading over the grey void, everything blending together seamlessly. My lips parted as an incredulous breath left my lips, confused at everything I was feeling at the moment. I did usually let my emotions pour into my drawings, but this was new. This was intense and it hasn’t happened before. I didn’t even understand it myself as I felt myself smile a little bit, almost as if my body felt relief, almost as if my heart became less heavy.

『There's an itch

Under my skin

It's under my skin

Under my skin』

The flipping of a page snapped me back to reality and I was once again aware that I was in the library and—Mingi was sitting right across me. And as I looked up, all previous feelings disappeared as my eyes fell on what held Mingi’s attention. My sketchbook. The one which was like my journal. I gasped, loudly,

“Stop.” I didn’t mean for my voice to be so loud, but several students turned our way as Mingi’s hand froze midair. The page he was about to flip fell back, and he looked up slowly, “I never gave you permission to look through that.”

Mingi held my fierce gaze for a second before he hummed, acting nonchalant, acting as if he hadn’t looked through something which was personal, something which contained my feelings and thoughts as I always doodle a few words in the right bottom of the page.

“My bad, I didn’t think it was personal,” My jaw clenched and before I could say anything, Mingi continued, “You’re quite good, did you know? You’re talented.”

I scoffed and looked around in disbelief before my eyes fell back on Mingi. He was smirking, looking way too amused at my annoyance, “Of course I’m good, Mingi. I’m more than just good. I’m the founder of the Fine Arts club at our university, I’m supposed to be the best student.”

“And are you?” Mingi raised an eyebrow and it made my blood boil even more. He was able to make my mood change way too easily, it pissed me off.

“I am.” I whisper-snapped and Mingi hummed again, acting as if it wasn’t a big deal. It was. I could never lack. I always had to deliver, and constantly had to prove myself that I was the best. Everyone had high expectations of me, but perhaps, it was myself who set the bar so high that I sometimes felt like I was crumbling, “Give it back.”

I swiftly leaned over the table and went to snatch the sketchbook back from Mingi, but he clumsily grabbed it and pulled it towards himself, out of my reach. The page he wanted to flip when I caught him was accidentally flipped and we looked down at it at the same time. My eyes widened in mortification and my heart dropped to my stomach as Mingi stared at his own eyes in my sketchbook. It was the first drawing I have made of them, it was somewhat scribbled over, but it was painfully obvious whose eyes it was. Hoping that he hadn’t recognized his own eyes, I quickly snatched the sketchbook back and slammed it shut, feeling a slight burn in my cheeks. That wasn’t good, I shouldn’t be blushing. And my heart also needs to calm down, I can feel my pulse in my neck. I looked up at Mingi through my lashes only to see him already staring at me. He looked incredibly surprised and confused at the same time, it was as if I was looking at a puppy, before his expression formed into something more detestable.

“Who’s eyes are those?” He whisper-asked with a glint in his sharp eyes, resting his chin in his palm as his ring-clad fingers tapped against his cheek rhythmically. His reaction was better than the one I was expecting, I thought he had figured it out, I could lie my way out of this.

“Someone’s.” I answered as I closed my other sketchbook too, needing to flee. There goes my strong and convincing answer. I was crying on the inside, emotionless on the outside.

“Mine?” My body froze and I slowly raised my gaze to look at Mingi, who was smirking and slowly pushing up his glass on the bridge of his nose. My jaw clenched as my heart started beating faster.

『'Cause I just wanna feel something real

'Cause I just wanna feel something』

“No, Yunho’s.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think. My jaw clenched as I mentally cursed myself. What are the chances Mingi knows Yunho, though? And I haven’t said his family name, it could be anyone. I didn’t wait to see Mingi’s reaction as I quickly started packing away everything, cursing myself for leaving my acrylics laying around on the table everywhere. My muscles were tense under Mingi’s watchful eyes and I bit my lower lip as I was finally able to shove everything inside my tote bag, I had zero intentions of organizing them nicely inside. I was just about to stand up when Mingi’s quiet, deep, voice reached my ears.

“By any chance—are you talking about Jeong Yunho?” The breath was knocked out of my chest as I gaped at Mingi with wide eyes, thoughts whirling fast in my mind. Mingi knows Yunho? How does he know him? What were the chances? I’m fucked.

“Uh, yeah.” I answered quietly before clearing my throat, not expecting Mingi’s eyes to suddenly light up and mouth to pull into the biggest smile I have ever seen on him.

“How do you know him?” He whispered in excitement, leaning forward in his seat. I cleared my throat in discomfort, stalling my answer as I scoffed quietly, trying to look nonchalant with my answer.

“We were sort of friends during highschool.” I answered, my voice void of any emotion as Mingi looked surprised.

“Really?” Mingi muttered before his confused expression morphed into that of an excited one once again, “He’s my best friend. We’ve been friends since childhood, it’s a bit surprising he never mentioned you—or have I forgotten? Yunho was always popular, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he mentioned you and I forgot, because I always had to keep up with all the new names and people. He was quite the charmer during highschool, wasn’t he? Did you know he’s gone to a different city to study?”

“Uh,” I blinked, trying to digest all the new information and Mingi’s change of character. I’ve never seen him so alive before, so excited, and happy like right now. It made me want to blame it on Yunho. He made people feel like this. Whoever had the luck of knowing him would be forever charmed, webbed up by his bright and warm personality. He could make you feel like you were the most special person on Earth, like you were the center of his life. Yunho was a very rare to find person, one you had the luck to meet only once in your lifetime. And if you were lucky enough, perhaps he’d keep you around long enough. Mingi seemed to be that lucky guy as he continued beaming at me, waiting for my answer. But all I could do was focus on the bitter feeling swirling inside my stomach and the quiver of my lips. I wasn’t good enough to keep Yunho around. I lacked what Yunho liked in a person, and yet, here Mingi was, being the epitome of everything Yunho liked. My throat closed in on me at a very sudden realization, I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore, “Yeah, I did—I didn’t. I—I have to go.”

I didn’t wait to see Mingi’s reaction as I jumped out of my seat and grabbed the coffee mug, gripping it so hard I could’ve broken the carton. I had tunnel vision as I raced out of the library and down the marble stairs, breathing hard with tears in my eyes. I burst through the heavy doors of the main building and ran off, trying to find a somewhat secluded spot on the path as I doubled over, heaving for air.

Song Mingi. Jeong Yunho. I should have known. I should have realized so much sooner, I was such a fucking idiot. My lips quivered as all the memories came back: Yunho’s dashing smile and warm hand as we lay in each other’s arms, his voice low as he whispered about his day. Song Mingi’s name rolling off his tongue effortlessly, face content and eyes glazed over as he recounted everything about their day, about Mingi. He loved the warm breeze; he hated rainy days. He loved going out for walks, he hated staying cooped up in his room all day. He hated playing video games, yet he learned a few just for Yunho. He was allergic to pollen, but he bought his mother a bouquet of flower every Sunday. He was tall and lanky and insecure, so he started working out with Yunho. He hated his glasses because people thought he was a nerd, so he never wore them and his eyesight worsened. Song Mingi, who’s laughter was either silent or too loud, head always thrown back as his eyes turned into slits when he laughed. Song Mingi, who was insecure about his blemishes until Yunho called him the handsomest gal he’d ever seen. Song Mingi, who stopped painting his nails after he was bullied for it. And Mingi, who despite looking intimidating and cold was the sweetest and nicest person Yunho has ever met. There wasn’t a day when Yunho wouldn’t mention Mingi while we were dating, and the fact that Mingi couldn’t even remember if Yunho mentioned me or not, said a lot. It hurt. It felt like a knife was plunged deep inside my chest, twisting and ripping everything apart with its sharp blade. I am over Yunho; everything happened a long time ago. But it was proof, once again, that I have never been someone important in his life. He would never talk about me like he talked about Mingi. I would never mean the world to him…like Mingi meant to him.

『I just wanna love

I just wanna touch

I just wanna see

Something』

❱❱ Next chapter

[sgt-seabass]

𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and sgt-seabass

Is this the way it's got to be? Ignite the fire inside of me. Embrace the life of tragedy. A tide of war and broken dreams. (x)

pairing — bucky barnes x reader w/c — 6.3k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. listening to —♫3 am walk

warnings — bucky barnes is a sweetheart, implied (consensual) smut, kidnapping, assault, violence against reader, mention of bodily injury, stabbing, knives, blood, bad guys being cunts, hydra exists, degradation, threat of non-con, whump, threat of violence against an animal (but the animal is not touched or harmed), death threats a/n — after months of brainstorming and writing together with Navy, this has finally been born. this piece is part of a larger AU we made together, so watch this space for more in the future.

Waking up next to Bucky was the easiest thing you ever did, because that was your happiest dream come true.

Even when his alarm blared before the sun had even considered rising, in the early hours when birds were still in their slumber, and the moon lit the bedroom with its ethereal glow, you would still give everything to wake up to the sleepy smile of your boyfriend.

You went to bed thinking of him as he ran his fingers down your back, helping ease you into a restful sleep, and you woke thinking of him as he tried to cover your eyes from his lit-up phone.

You both groaned, begging the stars for more time in bed. But as the incessant beeping filled the room, neither of you would get back to sleep soon.

Bucky was an Avenger. And that meant he had to go save the world. But that didn’t make it any easier when he had to leave for missions.

As Bucky leaned over to turn his phone off, you wrapped your arms around him, spooning him with your chin on his shoulder. “You could just stay home.”

Something in your gut was calling to you, warning you that he needed to stay home. It made you fearful. What if he got hurt?

In hindsight, it was you who needed the protection.

Bucky sighed, turning off the annoying buzzing of his phone. “You know I want to. But I can’t. Duty calls, sweetheart.”

God, you’d never get sick of the gravelly twinge to his voice in the mornings.

“Steve and Sam need backup,” he yawned, rolling over so he could cradle your head to his firm chest as he lay on his back, allowing you to smell the fading scent of his cologne.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine on their own,” you smiled, placing a kiss on his pec. Bucky’s habit of sleeping in only boxers always had you wanting to kiss him all over. Covering him in your affections was always tempting, even when he got shy, especially around his scarred shoulder.

“Baby, stop it,” Bucky almost whined, like a toddler tempted with treats. “Please don’t make this harder for me.”

“Sorry,” you placated, that nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach not easing as your eyes adjusted to the dark room.

Outside, you could hear the occasional car and pedestrian. But for the most part, Brooklyn was asleep. It was a peaceful silence between you, enjoying each other’s touch while it began drizzling rain outside.

“Well, it’s raining. Now you’ll just have to stay home.” You cheekily nipped at Bucky’s side before shuffling up to kiss his stubbled cheek.

“Is that so?” Bucky chuckled, eyes crinkling in your favourite show of joy.

“Mhm. No missions on rainy days,” you said matter-of-factly with a serious look on your face, a look you couldn’t hold when Bucky tickled your sides. You burst into giggles, gasping softly when Bucky rolled you under him so he towered over you, your body caged between his bulky arms.

“That’s too bad. I thought you were going to have a fun day with Natalia.” Bucky’s hair fell forward and covered some of his face. But there was no missing his twinkling blue eyes, reflecting the lights outside in his orbs. “Weren’t you going to have a girls movie night?”

“Yes, but I’d rather you join us.” Your hands ran up his sides, feeling rippled muscle until you reached his neck and jaw. His stubble pricked at your fingers as you cupped his face.

“I don’t want to be the third wheel. What are you ‘gonna watch?” As he spoke, Bucky began placing gentle kisses on your cheek that trailed down your collarbone.

“Cruel Intentions,” you muttered, revelling in the feeling of his plush lips against your skin.

“You’ve shown me that one,” Bucky murmured against your neck. “That’s the one with the lesbian kissing scene, right?”

You rolled your eyes with mock offence. “Of course that’s the bit you remember. And it’s not just any kissing scene. It’s the legendary kiss between Sarah Michelle Gellar and Selma Blair.”

Bucky pulled himself back up, raising his brows and trying, and failing, to hide his smirk. “Sorry, how could I forget.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Let me see if I remember correctly. It goes like this, right?”

Your heart was ready to burst out of your chest when Bucky’s lips met yours. Morning breath be damned; there was simply nothing better than kissing Bucky Barnes.

He licked across your bottom lip before you opened your mouth to let him in. “Bucky…” You moaned, your tongues sliding together like a choreographed ballroom dance.

Your hands held his scruffy jaw while his hands, one cold and one warm, held your waist. You could always tell when he was getting aroused by the way he’d lose some motor control of his silver arm, the hand twitching and metal plates shifting.

In hindsight, you’d miss the way he’d hold you the most.

Bucky slowly pulled away, his metal hand rising so his thumb could brush over your spittle-smeared lips. “Something like that, right?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out before taking the digit into your mouth.

Even though he couldn’t feel it, you could see how Bucky’s pupils dilated as he watched you suck.

His metal arm had been used for so much evil. But you always wanted to remind him of who he was. Your lover, your best friend. Your everything. Just like you were to him.

You weren’t afraid, and you embraced every part of him. While many cowered away from the man with the metal arm, you gravitated towards him, as if your heart was connected to him with impenetrable strings of fate.

“God, I love you.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped your cheek, his breath hitching for a moment as he gazed at you, as if so full of emotion his words were caught in his throat.

You placed your palm over his hand, snuggling into the cold metal like it was a warm hug. “I love you too, Bucky baby.”

An embarrassed flush spread over Bucky’s cheeks as it always did when you spoke to him sweetly. He might have been a soldier, but he was still a soft romantic at heart.

With the pitter-patter of rain against the window, the room no more than illuminated shadows, you were entirely enraptured by Bucky. You both stayed silent, just soaking in the moment as sparks flew. Even though you’d been together for two years, the chemistry was still like the first day you met. The first time you kissed. The first day you fucked.

The world around you was dark, yet you weren’t scared because Bucky was there.

The languid movement of Bucky’s lips to yours was tender, a familiar movement that he’d done so many times before. Feathery light, yet full of heat, he brushed his lips over yours. “I wish you could come with me.”

“I could stay in the jet.” You offered with sincerity. But that part of Bucky’s world wasn’t for you, you both knew that. You were no agent, a mere civilian with a super soldier boyfriend. But something told you that’s what drew Bucky to you, your normalcy. You gave him a chance at a life that had been stolen from him for so many years.

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got hurt. You’re safer here.”

In hindsight, he was very wrong.

Bucky captured your lips again, caressing and lingering in a way that had your heart fluttering and cheeks burning.

You tangled your hands into his locks, deepening the kiss. If he was going, you needed every moment you could get.

Bucky gripped your chin with his flesh hand, opening your mouth for him.

The sweetness turned sultry, and before long, Bucky was grinding himself against your pyjama-covered core.

Words couldn’t describe the desire that was awash in the room. Two lovers revelling in a happiness that was so rare, as if a million I love you’s were condensed into a single moment. No poet could describe this connection or the way it made you feel.

With Bucky’s embrace, you were home.

Bucky slowly trailed kisses down your neck, chest and stomach until he reached your pulsing pussy.

“I better tire you out before I go.” He smirked, cheeky as ever.

And tire you out, he did.

It wasn’t about his pleasure in that moment. He solely focused on you.

The way he moved his tongue, the way he pulled you apart, it was damn near artistic.

Steve may have been a painter, but Bucky was an artist in the act of love.

In hindsight, you should have cherished this moment more. Because it was the last happiness you would feel for some time.

The unease in your stomach began to grow in intensity as time passed, and by the time Bucky pulled himself away to get ready and leave, there were unexplainable chills wracking through you.

Bucky had done a thousand missions in your time together and had come home safe each time. Steve knew you’d likely kill him if something happened to Bucky. So why was this time different?

It was like your soul was trying to reach out and tell you something. But it must have been speaking another language, because you didn’t understand what was wrong.

You made the most of your fleeting time with Bucky before he left. He changed into his workout gear so he could kit up at the compound where most of the Avengers still resided, and Bucky had once lived. He didn’t leave many weapons in the home; you preferred it that way. The only one you knew of was the knife hidden under the couch, but you were sure there were other blades around.

Bucky had never told you why he didn’t live at the compound anymore, but Nat had hinted at tension between Bucky and Tony. You’d found it odd, given that Tony had been friendly to you each time you’d visited the compound.

But it wasn’t your business and didn’t matter to you anyway. You were content living with Bucky in your cosy apartment. There was more than enough space for both you and your fur child Alpine, plus a second bedroom for when Steve stayed over.

You snuggled into the duvet when Bucky left to make you a cup of tea before he headed off, and seeing as there was now a free spot, Alpine entered from the main area and took her chance to cosy up next to you. You pet the long-haired white cat as you waited, listening to her soft purrs to help ground you.

And when Bucky returned, you felt rather teary, your vision blurring as your emotions almost got the better of you. “Stay safe, please.”

Bucky set your earl grey down on the coaster on your bedside table before his concerned gaze turned to you. “I’ll be just fine. I’ll have my phone on me the whole time.”

“Is the mission dangerous?” You couldn’t help but ask. But you always got the same answer.

“I can’t talk about it, baby. But I’ll be okay. I promise,” Bucky reassured you with a kiss on your forehead. “You and Alpine better hold down the fort for me, okay?”

“Yeah. We’re going to get up to lots of mischief,” you smiled the best you could, holding Bucky’s hand.

“That’s my girls.” Bucky gave Alpine a little scratch under her chin before doing the same to you. “I’ll be back before you know it. Now get some more sleep, soldier’s orders.”

“Yes, sergeant,” you mock saluted before Bucky kissed you and pulled away.

“I love you, doll,” Bucky called from the doorway, as if taking his chance to imprint the sight of you into his mind.

In hindsight, he should have looked a lot longer.

“I love you too,” you gave Bucky a little wave. Alpine meowed in her own show of affection.

And like that, he was gone; The final sound from him was the closing of the front door behind him.

You turned the television on for some white noise while you sipped at your tea before you did as you were told, allowing the talking of some trash reality show to become background noise as you fell back asleep. As you dozed off, you couldn’t help but notice one side of the bed a lot colder than when you first had awoken.

For the second time that day, you woke up. This time, the sunlight beamed through the open curtains, since Bucky loved being woken by the sun warming his skin. He hated being cold.

Next to you lay a napping Alpine, her fluffy body rising and falling slowly with each deep breath. You placed a hand on her side, smiling at the little yip that came from her in surprise. She rolled onto her back, deep blue eyes watching you as you gaily scritched her belly.

She took the chance to latch onto your hand, playfully holding onto your wrist while her feet kicked and teeth ran across your skin.

“Hey, silly goose. Let me go.” Your chastisement was light and playful. While you’d prefer waking up next to Bucky, Alpine was a good replacement on the lonely days. She was your family, just like Bucky.

When Alpine rolled back over with a tired huff, you decided to leave her to slumber. As much as you wanted to annoy her more, you didn’t want to push your luck and end up with a pissed off kitty. She was moody, just like her dad.

You slinked out of bed, taking a moment to stretch when your feet hit the cold floorboards. With a yawn, you looked around the room. You should really get a rug, but Bucky liked lying on the floors when he found the bed too soft. On those nights, you’d join him, even if it left your back stiff and sore.

Padded steps took you to the kitchen, your body on autopilot as you got Alpine’s food ready for when she got up. It was the same routine as every morning. Feed the cat, shower, and check your emails for new commissions.

In hindsight, you should have been paying more attention.

You hummed as you made your way to the bathroom, connecting your phone to the Bluetooth speakers so you could play some music while you tried to relax. Your mind would run without the interruption of songs. And you didn’t want to start thinking about work before you’d had a chance to breathe.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have put the music so loud.

It was a luxury working from home, getting to pick your own hours. You had felt a little guilty when Bucky first proposed the idea of you quitting your crappy retail job to follow your dream of graphic design, as he could bare the brunt of the expenses.

But now you were flourishing; you were just grateful for his support. There were peaks and troughs like any job, but your heart was content sitting in your shared apartment, designing things that made the world a brighter place.

You turned the shower on, bopping along to your music as you shed yourself of your pyjamas and got into the tiled shower. You could have a bath, but you preferred to save those moments for when Bucky could join you.

The hot water made you hiss at first before your body acclimatised, skin heating up as the stream washed over you.

You faced the wall, resting your head on the tile as the spray rushed down your back.

In hindsight, you should have turned around.

The consequence of your various decisions throughout the morning came to a startling precipice.

With no idea of your surroundings, you were surprised when someone looped their arms under your armpits and over your shoulders, hauling you backwards.

You didn’t even scream for a moment, your brain unable to catch up before the adrenaline kicked in full force.

The assailant didn’t speak, which almost made it worse, as he started to walk backwards with your back to his chest, arms locked over your front. More than ever, you really wished you’d taken Bucky up on those self-defence classes.

“Thanks, Buck. But I’ll never use them.”

“I just want to keep you safe.”

“I am safe. My boyfriend is an Avenger, remember?”

Fight or flight kicked in, and your screaming started. You kicked your feet up and planted your soles on the cold tiled wall. With all your strength, you pushed back like a springboard, sending you and your attacker hurtling backwards.

He let go as he fell, and while he fell through one glass pane of the shower, you fell through another. The force had the glass shattering, sending thousands of shards all over the room.

You scrunched your eyes closed, wailing when you stepped in the broken glass, pain shooting through you when the shards buried themselves into the soles of your feet. But a second attacker caught you before your body hit the sharp ground. The piercing pain in your feet barely registered with how your body buzzed. Blood began to cover the floor, your essence coating the tiles a sickly red.

Your eyes shot open to see who caught you. A dirty blonde with a youthful grin. The man who had grabbed you first, another blonde with bright blue eyes and a scowl, had caught himself against the double sink.

Time froze for a moment when you looked at the door. There was another man with dark brown hair and an ominous expression, his features dark like his intent. Three men. You had no idea if more waited outside the door, but anything would be better than being stuck in this room.

“Nice catch, Damien,” the dark-haired man grinned.

“Yeah, no problem, Mads,” the man holding you spoke, chuckling like he wasn’t holding a hostage in his grip. “Not like Kage was any help.”

With them distracted, you bolted for the bathroom door, ignoring the way your feet tore with each step.

“Maddox! Grab her!” The man against the counter, Kage, yelled. Pushing himself off the marble to follow you.

You managed to duck under Maddox’s arms and stumbled into the kitchen. Your blood was already pooling on the ground with each step you took, like red footprints in the snow.

A meow caught your attention; Alpine stood in the bedroom doorway, her tail straight and her ears back against her head, the anxiety clear.

“Alpine! Hide under the bed,” you hissed, knowing you only had seconds before the unknown men came after you. If you were to die, there was no way you’d let them get Alpine too. Alpine stared at you momentarily, but as the tears welled in your eyes, she rushed off, perhaps understanding the weight of your command. This wasn’t belly scratches and joking around anymore.

You rushed for the knife block on the kitchen counter, but a hand on the back of your neck stopped you before you could reach it. “Nice try, bitch.”

Maddox gripped your neck and shoulders before he threw you over the kitchen counter, sending you rolling over and onto the bar stools that sat neatly on the other side. You tumbled to the ground, groaning instantly at the pain of the wood hitting you from multiple angles during your descent.

The trajectory sent you towards the dining table, and with Kage and Damien coming in close, you shot up and grabbed one of the dining chairs. You held it out like a weapon, with the legs facing outwards. Your breaths came out in short pants as tears trickled down your cheeks, while a shard of wood from the stool stuck out of your side. “What do you want? I don’t have any money, please.”

“Are you dumb enough to think we’re here for money?” Damien goaded, slowly closing in the distance between you two.

Maddox jumped the counter and landed behind you, boxing you in. With a scream, you threw the chair at Damien and attempted to flee under the dining table.

You squealed when Maddox grabbed your ankle, his grip harsh. You turned to look back at him, before you kicked him in the face with your free leg. He groaned in pain, and you didn’t check to see how bad you’d hurt him before you crawled out to the other side of the table.

Kage had been waiting for you, and when you reached him, he dealt a sharp kick to your side. The pain winded you, your mouth ajar with a shocked gasp before he kicked your ribs again.

You rolled onto your back, watching as Kage considered you from above. The way he looked at you – the malice. They were going to kill you. A woman could always sense the imposing threat that men had, for it was simply the female experience to be at the mercy of those who wanted to harm you.

You should have stopped Bucky from going – should have trusted your gut. Although, if these men wanted you dead, then there would only have been so much Bucky could do. He was a victim as much as you in the world of unfairness. A man out of time. A man who just wanted a semblance of normalcy.

It was mournful that his one good thing was becoming marred with the violence he had become so used to.

“I don’t want to die,” you wept under the man, pulling the wooden stake from your side with a cry of pain. "Please."

Turning over, you dragged your bloodied body towards your desk. The same desk you spent most of your days on. Your computer and sketchbooks were filled with hopes and dreams, colour and beautiful chaos.

Your ichor-covered hand grabbed onto the side, using it like a crutch to stand up. You couldn’t stop fighting. If you were going to perish, you’d go out swinging.

“You’re still trying? It’s pathetic. You can barely stand,” Kage growled as Damien and Maddox began wreaking havoc behind him. They were smashing and destroying everything in sight, demolishing the world you and Bucky had built with love and a cherishing touch.

“F.. Fuck you,” you weakly spat, legs burning with the need to sit down.

Kage snapped, grabbing you and dragging you across the desk. Your computer smashed onto the ground, along with all your notebooks and stationery. He threw you down on top of the mangled computer, allowing the glass of your screen to stick into your back. In a way, it wasn’t a new sensation anymore. The sharp piercing of your feet had dulled your body to the point where the new pain was no more than a sudden spike that turned into a dull ache.

“You think you’re special? You’re nothing. Not even worth expending energy on.” Kage left your side, and your sightline moved to the couch.

Bucky kept a knife under it.

Trying to not show your intention, you used your arms to pull yourself along the hardwoods towards the couch, while Maddox closed in and kept tapping your bare ass with the toe of his boot.

“I wonder what he likes about you,” Maddox considered. “Are you that good a fuck? Do you cook him meals just like the old days, huh? ‘Cause to me, you just seem like a puny helpless girl. There’s no fun in killing someone who might as well be already dead.”

His taunts made your blood boil, and when you reached the corner of the couch, you turned onto your back, facing the assailant. “Go fuck yourself. You don’t know anything.”

“Ah, see there’s a little fire. I like it when they fight back.” Maddox dropped to his knees, one on either side of your thighs so you were boxed in. “I want to watch the light drain from your eyes, see all that hope just whittle away to nothing. Because, like Kage said, you are nothing.”

He moved in closer, to the point where you could smell the stale whisky on his breath. “I wonder what body part your boyfriend will find first. Maybe I’ll put your head under the bed with your fucking cat. What do you think? Are you ready to die?”

You let out an almighty scream when you reached and grabbed the knife, pulling it out and slashing Maddox across the arm before he could react.

He was a lot faster than you, however, and the moment you got a hit in on him he jumped back, eyes turning a lot darker. “Oh, you’re fucking stupid.” He growled, before he quickly overpowered you.

In a struggle, you screamed and thrashed, but by bearing his weight onto you, Maddox could manoeuvre you. He picked you up, before slamming you back down onto the hardwood floors. Your head snapped back from the force, whacking against the ground with a loud crack. 

Everything went black for a moment, and by the time your vision came back, Maddox was squatting over you with the sole of his boot stepping on your wrist, the knife still in your grip.

“You really don’t know when to stop, huh? Can’t you see you’re going to lose no matter what you do?” Maddox’s boot pressed harder, and your wrist creaked uncomfortably under the pressure.

You let go of the knife just before your bones would reach the point of snapping, the metal clattering to the ground. Despite the tears in your eyes and the fear in your heart, you were thankful for the life you had. If this were to be the end of your existence, you were okay with that. Bucky had given you a life worth of love in the short two years you’d known him. 

As you watched the sharp eyes of the man above you, you thought of Bucky. You hoped this loss would not destroy him. The life you had experienced together would not change; those happy memories of laughter and smiles still there. You hoped he would not cry for you, but feel a blossoming love at the thought of you. Death wouldn’t have you becoming a ghost of a forgotten past, but a memory to be cherished in Bucky’s future. And you would be waiting for him on the other side, should he be expecting to see you there after his inevitable demise. You would be just around the corner, waiting like nothing had ever been lost. These men could try and take your body, but they would not take your soul. That belonged to the man thousands of miles away saving the world. “I’m not going to lose. I’ve already won.”

“Yeah? Does this feel like winning?” Maddox sneered before he picked up the blade and plunged the knife into your shoulder, the white-hot pain splintering through you like the broken glass of your shower. Your mouth opened into a silent, broken scream, the anguish unlike anything you’d felt before.

This was just a fraction of what Bucky had felt in his lifetime, yet this felt like the whole world was collapsing in on you, your body broken. Perhaps these men were right - maybe you were weak. Because the knife in your shoulder was enough to break you. Would Bucky be disappointed? Would he expect you to have put up more of a fight? The logical response would be no. But the blade slicing through your muscles made it hard to think straight.

Maddox slapped your cheek and twisted the blade. “I asked you a question, little bitch. Does this feel like you’re winning?”

Your choked cries painfully shook your shoulders, and despite it all, you nodded. “Yes. I’ve already won and you can’t take that from me.”

“Stupid fucking whore, listen to this slut. She really thinks she’s worth something.” Damien called out from behind Maddox, looking at you from over his shoulder. Kage joined the commotion, gazing at the knife lodged in your shoulder.

Without compassion, Maddox ripped the knife from your shoulder, your palms raising to try to press on the open wound. There was no reprieve with these men, however. Maddox grabbed your shoulders, ignoring your yelps and wails while he threw you over the back of the couch.

Your front dropped onto the sofa, while your ass stuck in the air on the stiff back of the couch. The fear that roiled inside you turned tenfold as Kage came up behind you, pressing on your lower back so your hips pressed painfully into the couch frame. Damien and Maddox came around your front, their crotches scarily close to your face.

“You know what we can take from you, though? Your dignity.” Kage’s hands moved from your back to the globes of your ass. “I could fuck you right here, and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

If the humiliation of being naked wasn’t enough, having the intruders touch you like this was an indignity that would change you forever. A small part of your golden soul blackened, and you didn’t know if it could ever be saved.

Damien gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at the two men. “And we could fuck that mouth of yours. Maybe even pull a few teeth if you dared fight.”

“I bet you’d love it. After all, you have to be all kinds of fucked up to fuck the Winter Soldier,” Kage said as his fingers moved to feel across your thighs.

“Don’t you dare speak about him like that. He’s more of a man than you three put together.” The mere mention of Bucky had your anger returning. You let out a huffed breath before you used the last of your depleting strength to lift your legs and kick Kage in the stomach. He didn’t move, body like a stone statue, but the movement pushed you over the couch and onto the living room floor. The plushness of the cushions did little to soften your fall, a whimpered breath coming from your tired body.

You were just so tired. The more blood you lost, the harder it was to keep going. As your ichor stained the rug below you, you glanced to the blackened television.

“Bucky, what are you doing on the floor? And is that all the stuff from the bed?”

“We’re having a pillow fort movie night. The popcorn is in the microwave.”

“It’s going to be a pain to put the bed back together, you know.”

“Then we’ll just have to sleep here. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can break it in. It’s one new surface I haven’t fucked you on yet.”

No. You couldn’t give up. You owed Bucky your best fight. You had no doubt he would do the same for you.

The assailants closed in again, the same dark-haired asshole taunting you with his menacing grin.

“Fuck you,” you spat, seeing red when he tried to grab you.

Most of the punches you threw didn’t land, but it didn’t matter to you. Your arms were a blur as you screamed and unleashed all the fury you had.

But they just laughed at your efforts. The blood loss had clearly taken full effect with the way you moved slower than you intended, your arms weakening quickly.

“Nice try, toy.” Maddox picked you up by the shoulders before throwing you into the wooden coffee table.

The thin tabletop cracked and fractured instantly, wood splintering around the dent your body left.

The pain had become immaterial, the agony reducing from a boil to a simmer as your ability to feel lessened to the point where nothing was at all. Perhaps it was your body protecting your psyche, or you were dying. Either way, it left you feeling somewhat euphoric.

"She still fighting?"

"Let her be. She isn't going anywhere."

"Dumb bitch thought she stood a chance."

Your dazed state had the men leaving you to finish trashing the house. With no immediate threat, you made your last-ditch attempt. You had to let Bucky know who killed you. You knew it would kill him to not know who attacked you.

Numbed, you took another look at the men. There was nothing too unusual about them, just their distinctive hair colours, eye colours and the symbol they all bore. You hadn’t noticed it at first, but now with your chance to inspect them, you sighted a circular insignia on the front of their black hoodies. A green… octopus?

When Damien threw a plate at you that shattered against your forearm when you raised it to defend yourself, your thoughts were cut off. The porcelain dropped around you, and you picked up one of the pieces. On it was a little drawing of a cat. You and Bucky had done a pottery art class and came home with a few plates. You picked up a second piece, a sob bubbling from your throat when you looked at the two fragments together. A little Alpine that you had drawn, and a little bird that Bucky had drawn with red wings.

You let the remnants of the plate drop to the ground, the once beautiful creation covered with your blood. They really were destroying everything. As Damien continued to vandalise the kitchen, Maddox and Damien tore apart your boxes of photos.

Even with the horror of having your life stripped away, you struggled to look away. You saw the green octopus again, and something in the back of your mind was trying to get out – to tell you what it meant.

The emblem was so familiar, and you turned onto your stomach as you thought. Pulling yourself to a free patch of hardwood flooring, you began writing out the word ‘blonde’ with your blood, trying to give Bucky anything you could.

Kage stopped you after the first word, and it was like there was cotton wool in your ears as he pulled your hand back. You assumed he said something to chastise you, but you didn’t register it.

You could see his expression, though. He was enjoying himself, laughing with his partners as he took your arms and dragged you on your back towards the front door.

When you looked up, you saw his hoodie closer, and that’s when it clicked. Hydra? But Hydra was red? And from what you heard on the news after the Triskelion incident, they were some power-crazed terrorist organisation bent on absolute control. What were they doing in your apartment? And why did they hate Bucky so much?

Bucky hadn’t told you much about his past, and part of you understood. You could tell by the vulnerable look in his eye that he was scared you’d leave him every time the Winter Soldier was brought up, which was rare.

All you knew was that he was under control as the Winter Soldier, and did some horrible things. But you never pressed, and you didn’t need to. You knew enough to know Bucky was a victim, and that was enough.

Good people like Sam and Natasha wouldn’t have continued to stand by him if Bucky was anything more than an innocent, manipulated prisoner of war. Steve would stand with Bucky regardless, but you didn’t blame him for that. Some relationships simply went further than right or wrong, innocent or guilty. Steve would stand by Bucky through thick and thin, just like you would.

But that didn’t explain why these men were here and tormenting you. This was more than just an attack – it was complete and utter destruction. The apartment was in ruins, completely desecrated.

Kage dragged and dumped your body against the entry wall, amongst the torn photos of you and Bucky. Your gaze turned to one where you were both smiling, huddling in close. It was taken on Steve’s birthday. You’d all thrown him a surprise party in the compound. You remember because Bucky had you both wear a comically bad Captain America t-shirt to tease him.

The photo, while tattered, was a reminder. While this moment was pure suffering, life was also full of moments that had your heart full of love. Life wasn’t always full of pain, and this torture was but a brief snapshot in the greater picture of your life.

Now, your heart hurt because you’d experienced such great love you knew what it was like to feel the loss. Tears trickled down your cheeks as you mourned what could have been. You should be experiencing many more birthdays and silly t-shirts, but it seemed that wasn’t what fate had planned for you.

The cries you let out were stricken with grief, and for the first time, the men went silent and just looked at you as if you were human, not just a toy for their enjoyment.

“Talk about a mood killer,” Damien sniggered, but Kage quickly raised his hand.

“Enough. Time to put her out of her misery.”

Your blood turned icy cold, dread settling in your stomach as you whimpered, too drained to run. “Please, don’t. Just leave me. I won’t tell anyone.” A blatant lie, but you had to try. You’d seen their faces, and that alone sealed your fate. "I don't want to die," you said more to yourself than to them.

“Pretty pictures. Too bad they’re a bit stained.” Maddox mocked as he picked up one of the discarded photo albums. It was the heaviest one, full of memories that were now soaked with your blood.

Maddox handed the album to Kage, unbothered by the drips of red that hit the floor. 

They all stood before you as Kage flipped through the pages, his features hardened. “He’s so happy. Let’s see if the monster smiles now.”

Kage slammed the book closed, sealing your fate between his hands. That part of your life was ending, and these three were writing your future.

There was no point pleading with them, and you were too devoid of energy to do more than sit with shallow breaths, awaiting your death.

But one last ounce of adrenaline coursed through your veins as you tried to keep your eyes open. "His name is Bu-"

Kage raised the photo album before slamming it down on your head. It knocked you out instantly, the world going black as your body toppled to the side.

But the reaper didn’t come. Your heart continued beating, lungs filling with air.

Your suffering was due to continue. This wasn’t the end.

[lionhanie]

lee riwoo ; everything i didn’t say

VERY angsty (be warned i cried), ex boyfriend! riwoo, first love gone wrong :(, i refer to riwoo by his birth name (sanghyeok), did not really proofread :P

word count: 1.4k

warnings: cursing, relationship issues (yikes), angst

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, link is here

a/n: i can't lie i think i wrote riwoo out to be kind of a douche in this but it was For The Angst ok. and also he's remorseful about it so... it's fine i guess loooool

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

sanghyeok is stuck in a loop. photobooth pictures of the two of you, the (now) dead bouquet you got him after his first performance, the hoodie that you’d always wear when you came over. he can’t look around his apartment without being reminded of your relationship, but he’d rather die than get rid of the remaining traces of you in his life. the two of you were highschool sweethearts; becoming dance partners at random in a club after school and the rest was history.

your chemistry was unmatched, not just while you were dancing together, but even when the music stopped, it was just you two in your own world. really, it was perfect-- everyone around you two was convinced you guys were going to be together forever with the way you looked at each other with literal hearts in your eyes. 

that is, until it was time for the two of you to part following your graduation. sanghyeok was moving a 3-hour train ride away from your hometown, making it much harder to see each other frequently. it worked for a while, he likes to think. every other saturday, you’d always wake up early in the morning to catch the first train over to your boyfriend-- but even then, you’d only get to spend less than a full twenty four hours together before you needed to go home for class on monday. there wasn’t any… bad blood between you two per se, but rather life seemed to get in the way of your relationship. 

“the way you held me / i wish that i’d put you first / i was wrong i admit, numb from your kiss / while you were slipping through my finger tips” 

sanghyeok was heavily involved in the dance club at his university, oftentimes running to practice immediately after class. practice /alone/ would eat up a couple hours of his limited free time, and the rest of the time he would spend trying to catch up with coursework that was slowly creeping up on him.

his texts become less frequent, and when he does finally send you a message, he’d never be active long enough to actually have a meaningful conversation. the two of you pinky promised that you’d try to call every night to keep in touch, but sanghyeok would often miss your designated calling time, explaining that he was still in the studio, or was stuck trying to learn the material from this week’s classes, or that he was simply too tired to call that night. 

“all the wrongs that i hoped would erase from your memories / holding onto a broken and empty heart / flowers i should’ve bought / all the hours i lost / wish i could take it back to the start”

maybe he was too naive to think that the distance would be fine-- that your relationship would be exactly how it was in high school, where the two of you had butterflies in your stomach each time you saw each other. he didn’t realize how neglectful he’d been until you called him in tears one day, a little past one am (and long past your usual 9pm call time, that he missed, again), when he was on his way back to his apartment after practice. huh? that’s odd. you aren’t usually up this late.

“do you even care anymore? i want you to be honest, sanghyeok, please.” your voice is coarse, it’s obvious that you’ve been crying, especially with the small hiccups you can’t seem to hide as you speak. “if you aren’t going to try anymore, we should just break up.” 

“y/n? baby, what are you saying right now? what do you mean we should break up?” 

you almost scoff at his words, in complete disbelief that /he/ doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. “this is the fourth time this week you’ve avoided our calls. jesus, have you even read any of the past texts i’ve sent you?” your voice breaks, filled with both frustration and utter heartbreak. 

“to be honest, i really needed you tonight. you know, you’re not the only one who’s busy. life has been kicking me in the ass lately and the only thing that keeps me going recently is the thought of hearing your voice at the end of the day, but now i can’t even get that! shit, i’ve been so patient with you, sanghyeok-- with us.” 

“hey, i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i didn’t read your texts earlier, and sorry for missing our call earlier..” he takes the phone away from his ear, checking the time and putting you on speaker. 1:15 AM. he hasn’t even started studying for the test he has in the morning. “but can we talk about this tomorrow? i just left the studio, and i really need to get to studying once i get to the apartment. and there’s no rehearsal tomorrow, so i’ll be able to call-”

“you don’t get it, don’t you? it doesn’t matter that tomorrow you’ll finally be able to call, it’s the fact that i’m always your last priority these days. it fucking hurts, sanghyeok. you’re my number one, and yet i can’t even get a text back from you anymore.” he stops in his tracks, listening to you on the other end of the phone. surely he hasn’t missed that many of your calls. he was almost certain he texted you good morning the second he woke up. he curses under his breath at himself when he looks at his notifications. 2 missed calls. over 10 texts from both yesterday and today, unopened. he must’ve forgotten. 

“we aren’t in high school anymore, okay? it shouldn’t be a burden to put in a little bit more effort for someone you love, even if you’re further away now… you always used to send me flowers whenever you missed me, or call me in the middle of the day just to hear my voice. what happened to us?” your sniffles stopped by now, instead being replaced with all of the emotions from the past couple weeks finally being aired out. 

“why am i always the one who wakes up at four in the morning every weekend just to spend some time with you? why do i have to be the one to sit and wait for your calls, only to see that you’re busy again? damnit, i just wish i knew you still loved me, sanghyeok.” he can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. 

“with all of the mistakes i’ve made / from all the letters that i’ve saved / this is everything i didn’t say / i wish i could’ve made you stay / and i’m the only one to blame / i know that it’s a little too late” 

fuck. he’s crying again. he can’t recall how many times he’s reread the love letters you once exchanged in high school. they used to sit in a pretty decorated cardboard box on his desk, but his bedside drawer is their new home; it’s much easier to read them every night when they’re right next to him. he’s extra careful not to get any of his tears on your writing, just in case those are the last letters you’ll ever write for him.

if he had just noticed sooner… if he wasn’t so focused on himself, maybe he would’ve seen how much the person he loved most was hurting, all because of him. sanghyeok almost feels sick thinking about how you kept in your feelings for so long; enduring all the pain in hopes that he would turn things around eventually. 

“i hope you know / for you i’d sacrifice / to make this right / some day i’m sure / we’ll pass each other by / until that time…” 

and at the end of the night, when sanghyeok’s head hurts from crying for too long, and another tissue box is empty beside him, he goes for a walk. it’s his routine, after all. he’ll walk down the same dim path he walked on the night you two broke up, and he will sit on a bench and look up at the sky through the clearing between the trees. he’s waiting for a shooting star.

...by the time that star comes, he’s already prepared with his wish. he doesn’t even need to think about what he wants most in this world, because he knows the only thing he would wish for is one more chance to make things right with you.

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[crowleysgirl56]

Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 34

So we need something nice, because, well, *gestures vaguely at everything*. So here is morning in South Downs cottage M rated fluff/up to your imagination smut! Enjoy!

Aziraphale never really was one for sleeping. He preferred to while away the hours on more stimulating activities like baking or writing or reading. Sitting up with a book in hand, he watched as the early morning sunbeams crept through the bedroom window and slowly illuminated the peaceful form of his lover pressed against his side. He smiled fondly. Maybe there was something to this sleeping after all. He gazed at the constellation of freckles on the demons bare back, eyes lingering on the spots where ebony wings would burst forth from their astral plane once summoned. His gazed roamed up to an angular and beautiful face nestled neatly into his waist, and thought of the most beautiful golden eyes currently hidden behind closed lids. How he missed those eyes. It had only been a few hours, but still, his heart ached when they were shut. Gently he slowly began to card his fingers through soft red curls and went back to his book.

Crowley was no stranger to sleep, though after 6000 years of doing so in the strangest of places, from the walls and ceiling of his apartment, to the floor of his Bentley, and one time at the bottom of a rather ornate vase in the palace of Versailles (it’s a long a story), he realised that the best place was by the side of particularly captivating angel. He vowed never again to sleep without the angel next to him. He wouldn’t tell him this of course. A demon does after all need to keep up his reputation.

He lay curled up tightly against Aziraphale’s side, an arm protectively wrapped around the angels waist. As the rising sun slowly brightened the room, he was gently roused awake by the feeling of fingers caressing his hair. He watched the dust motes dance through the sunbeams filtering through the window before looking up at the precious angel’s face. Crowley felt himself grin. A most undemonic thing to do. He didn’t care.

“Morning angel, fancy meeting you here” he purred.

Aziraphale’s eyes didn’t leave his book, though the corners of his mouth twitched up slightly, “Good morning my dear. I see you’re still intent on making that joke every morning”.

“What joke? There’s an angel in my bed and he’s trying to temp me.”

Placing the book down and raising an eyebrow Aziraphale replied “Our bed”.

“Our bed” Crowley repeated as he began to snake his way up to Aziraphale’s eye-line.

Aziraphale took off his glasses and moved them along with the book to the side table. He turned to meet Crowley’s eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Tremendously”. Crowley began to lean into the angels neck when he suddenly stopped. “Angel. Did you miracle on pyjamas last night after I fell asleep?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh yes, I thought them rather stylish”

“They’re tartan!”

“You don’t like them?” Aziraphale pouted, making sure to enhance his bottom lip ever so slightly. It worked. Crowley’s eyes immediately dropped to his mouth. He smiled wickedly.

“I’d like them better if they were on the floor”. A hand suddenly landed at the top button of Aziraphale pyjamas working it open with deft and slender fingers.

Playing coy Aziraphale turned away and made to get up. “Excellent idea. We should get dressed. I’ve made plans!”

“And what plans would they be exactly?” The next button popped open. Aziraphale paused as heated breath tickled under his chin. He settled back on the bed abandoning his ruse.

“You’ll just have to wait and see”. Aziraphale gradually leaned his head back to allow the demon better access to his neck. Crowley softly brushed the tip of his nose into the crook under Aziraphale’s ear.

“You know that’s very irritating Angel. Besides I thought we didn’t keep secrets anymore.” A small kiss is peppered along the side of Aziraphale’s throat as a third button is reached.

Aziraphale closed his eyes, enjoying the tingle that ran down his spine. “Only the nice ones dear” he breathed.

“Nice! Well if you’re going to start talking dirty” Crowley rose up and hovered over Aziraphale, a hand on either side of his torso pressed down into the mattress.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale’s eyes flew opened as he feigned a protest, but allowed himself to be crowded back against the bedhead. Eyes wide and round, not daring tear them away from the demon, he ran his owns hands up Crowley’s chest.

As Crowley held himself up with one hand, the other went back to slowly prizing open the remaining (and offending) shirt buttons one by one. “These plans of yours, do they have any kind of urgent timeframe?”

“Well no, I suppose they are rather flexible.” Their mouths mere millimetres apart.

“Excellent. Because I have some plans of my own.” The last button successfully removed.

“Oh? Do tell.” Aziraphale slid down into softness of the pillows, slipping his arms around Crowley’s neck as the demon pressed down upon him.

“I think I’d rather show you”. Mouths thank Go-, thank Sat-, thank SOMEONE, finally came together. Turns out, even the best laid plans can wait.

If you would like to know what Aziraphale’s plans were, then go on and read Wildest Dream 13 which can be used as part two to this little interlude. Because you deserve more kissing!

Also Edit: to add @goodomensafterdark because I feel like this is up your alley.

[forever-rogue]

I don’t know if you’re still taking requests, but I love your nurse!Steve fics and there’s something I wanted to suggest.

I would love to see a nurse!Steve fic where reader knows Steve has had a tough week and has been helping out (taking care of the house and of him) but at the end of the week she’s sent home from work because she caught a nasty stomach bug that’s been going around. She hopes to magically get over it by the time Steve gets home and (obviously) fails and Steve insists on taking care of her even though she feels guilty. She tries to downplay it even though she’s throwing up and Steve doesn’t understand why.

Thank you for your fics <3 they bring people so much joy ❤️

AN | Okay, but this is me too - I’d rather feel like death and do things for myself than ask for help. But Stevie won’t let his best girl suffer, no matter what 🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d seen about ten coworkers in the office leave early at various times this week due to falling ill. It was that wonderful time of year when something was inevitably going around and everyone was going through it, one by one. Immune systems were down and any sickness took full opportunity to strike. 

Given that, you shouldn’t have been surprised when it finally hit you. It appeared to be slowly working its way through to everyone at the office and you were the next unlucky volunteer. It started off with the classical sore and scratchy throat, followed by a headache, followed by an aching body, and then a wave of exhaustion. This was most definitely not good. Once your stomach started feeling off you knew that you were getting sick. And apparently you’d looked the part; your boss sent you home in the middle of the day when she decided that you seemed in desperate need of rest. 

You’d reluctantly agreed, knowing you didn’t have a choice. What you didn’t do, however, was call Steve and tell him what was going on. There was no way in hell that you were about to tell your overly caring, overly protective nurse husband that you weren’t feeling well. You knew that he’d drop everything as soon as you told, that him he’d leave work and rush home to you. And really, there was no need for him to do any of that. You’d be right as rain in a few hours - and that meant you weren’t going to worry Steve. 

And on top of it all, you weren’t about to add a single thing to Steve’s plate that you didn’t need to. He’d been working so incredibly hard at work, long hours with little thanks, on top of all the things he did at home. He really was an amazing man, always giving, giving, giving, and never asking for anything. But you wanted to give back to him, and tried to do as much as you could. 

Since you suddenly had half a day to yourself, you decided that you’d make use of your time. You were going to tidy up around the house, do all the laundry, and make dinner and dessert. That way Steve had a nice hot meal to come home to along with a clean house. Maybe you’d even convince him to take a bath with you to end the night on a calm note. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The house was quiet when you entered it, peaceful but that was quickly interrupted when a sudden coughing fit overwhelmed. Things were going downhill really fast. That was no matter, however, you were determined. You changed out of your work clothes and flipped into a pair of joggers and an old sweater of Steve’s before tossing the discarded items into the hamper and dragging the whole thing into the garage to start the first load.

Once the washer was going, you trudged back inside and grabbed a few cleaning supplies. You started off at the back of the house, giving the spare room a quick dusting (the very same one you hoped would one day be a nursery) before moving onto your bedroom. Luckily, the two of you were both fairly neat and tidy people so it really didn’t take much to get back into shape. By the time you reached the guest bathroom, your body was slowly getting more achy and tired, and you were definitely slowing down. 

 You made yourself push through it and eventually made it into the kitchen after switching over the laundry. 

“What to make?” you asked aloud to yourself, silently groaning at how bad your throat felt and you sounded. Reaching into the fridge, you grabbed a bottle of water and downed almost half of it in one go. Maybe that would help, although in the long run you knew where this was heading. You reached into the pantry and grabbed out some pasta and gathered up ingredients for sauce; that was something easy enough to make and delicious. 

Puttering around the kitchen you got everything going before making some brownies for dessert. Nothing fancy, but there was some leftover ice cream that would pair well with it. By the time the laundry was put away and finished, and dinner and dessert was ready, you were feeling completely drained. Steve would be home soon, but you decided that there was enough time to take a little bit of a rest. 

You sat down on the couch and grabbed one of the big fluffy blankets, curling up under it as you turned on the TV to the news. And then, after sitting for less than five minutes, you were fast asleep, head lulled to the side as you curled up and snored lightly. Your body had definitely won the fight with this one.

-─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sweetheart?” His voice was gentle but sounded distant. You felt something on your shoulder but couldn’t find it within yourself to open your eyes, “honey?”

“Hmmm?” it was then that you recognized it as Steve’s voice. Your favorite voice. A smile pulled across your face and you heard your husband tut softly at you. 

“Angel?” a gentle brush of a thumb over your cheek had you leaving into his touch, “you gonna wake up or am I going to have to tickle you?”

You peeked an eye open at the fond little threat and shook your head. He relaxed when he saw that you were awake, his own smile breathtaking, “no, please, have mercy on me!”

Steve’s smile quickly turned into a frown when he heard how terrible you sounded. And let’s be honest here - you sounded horrible. Almost as bad as you felt, “oh honey, honey. You’re sick.”

“No,” you pouted at him but he wasn’t buying it, “‘m fine, Stevie. Just a little tired.”

“You’re not fine, honey,” he brushed a few rogue locks of hair behind your ears, before kissing your forehead, “guess everyone else being sick finally caught up to you, huh?”

“Nuh uh,” you were feeling particularly stubborn today.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, but you thought it was obvious, “I would have come and could have taken care of you.”

“That’s why I didn’t call,” your throat felt parched, eyes dry and heavy, “I’m okay - I can handle it. Don’t want you to have to take care of me, Stevie. You work so hard and you’ve been so busy, you don’t need me to worry about it.”

“I work hard,” he acknowledged softly “but so do you. And on top of that, it’s not like it’s a chore - not when it’s you.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” he placed a gentle finger over your lips, giving you the sweetest and most gentle expression, “you’re going to rest, relax, and get better, and I will take care of you.”

“Steve,” his name was squished out against your lips which caused him to laugh slightly.

“I wasn’t aware that I left it to open for discussion,” he teased, “because it’s not. Husband and Nurse’s orders.”

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?” but you loved him. You loved him so very much that sometimes it felt like it was going to make your heart burst. You never knew you could love someone so much - until you met Steve. 

“Not a chance,” he whispered softly, “come on, let me make some dinner and then get you a hot bath.”

“I already made dinner,” a sheepish expression crossed your features as he chuckled softly, “and dessert. I, umm…I got sent home early from work and decided to use the free time to cook and clean.”

“Honey,” you playfully grabbed the blanket and pulled it over your face, a silly little attempt to hide from him. He waited a few seconds before he took the edge of it and pulled it away to reveal your face, “you’re telling me you got sent home from work and instead of taking care of yourself, you cooked and cleaned.”

“Yes?” you shrugged sheepishly as he sighed lightly, filled with nothing but reverent adoration. 

“I adore you beyond words,” he placed soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and nose, before stopping at your lips, “stubborn, silly, clumsy girl.”

“No kisses,” you pouted, “don’t wanna get you sick too.”

“Well, I’ve already been exposed to it by being around you,” he mused thoughtfully, “and I work in a busy hospital; at some point I’m bound to catch something, but we’ll save that worry for another day.”

You couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck and pull him into your body, “I love you so much, Stevie. So, so much.”

“I love you too,” you could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “now, come on. Let’s eat and then we’ll relax, yeah?”

“Yes please.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright,” Steve was perched at the edge of the tub, making sure the water was perfectly warm to how you liked it and filled with the lavender scented bubbles, “I believe that this is a perfect bath. C’mere.”

You took a few steps closer to him, and he stood up, deft hands moving to strip off your clothing. You were like putty in his hands, letting him pull the sweater from your frame, lifting your arms so he could toss the article on the floor. He followed suit with your joggers, gently pulling them down your legs along with your panties; a shiver ran down your spine at the sudden chill and he quickly helped you to get into the tub. 

He helped you to settle into the water, playfully blowing some of the bubbles at you. Before he could pull away, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and looked up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, “join me? Please?”

“You know I can never say no to you,” he took your hand and pressed a reverent kiss to your knuckles. He made quick work of discarding his clothes and tossing them into the pile with yours. He stepped in the water and sighed blissfully at the feeling of the warm water surrounding his tired body. He sat down across from you so he could see your pretty face, his legs surrounding yours, “ it should be a crime to be sick and still look this beautiful, you know.”

“Steve,” your entire face flushed with warmth as it was your turn to blow some bubbles at him, “you’re such a flatterer!”

“I’m a truther,” he insisted, giving your leg a soft squeeze. You shook your head fondly before lying against the back of the tub and looking at your husband. He did the same as you, both of you watching each other softly, “I love you, you know.”

“You love me?” you feigned shock, but let’s be honest, you really loved hearing it, “I’m shocked. I had no clue that Steve Harrington, the most wonderful, sweet, amazing, smart, and sexy man, loved me.”

“You’re such a brat,” he laughed, a pretty flush of pink welling up in his cheeks, “you shouldn’t be talking that much either, it’s only going to irritate your throat further. But you think I’m sexy, huh?”

“Stevie, you know you’re sexy. You’re so hot it hurts,,” you tried your best not to sound too croaky, as he beamed at you, “and I can’t help it. I always wanna talk to you!”

“I know baby,” he whispered, pretty smile on display, “we’ll just be quiet for a while, huh? And just so you know, I think you’re very sexy too, and beautiful, and smart, and everything.”

“Fine.”

“C’mere,” he gently moved towards you, pulling you into his arms as he settled under you and you rested on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “just relax. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve always got you.”

“I love you,” you closed your eyes and relaxed into him, giving his hand a tight squeeze, “so much.”

“I love you, angel,” he promised, “clumsy, stubbornness and all.”

[alisonfelixwrites]

Informed consent: chapter 3

Word count: 14,180

Mia found herself hunched over her desk early morning on Friday. After her first tutoring session the previous day, she was set on making the best out of neuropsychology and she was revising last week’s lesson in order to be able to catch up today.

A soft knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts and she turned around, taking her glasses off of the bridge of her nose, “Come in.”

She knew it was going to be Hazel, so the sight of her friend in her night robe and her hair all messy didn’t exactly surprise her. Hazel pushed open the door softly, her hands full with a cup of coffee and a plate filled with fruit and toast. Mia’s heart about grew twice its size when she gasped, “Oh my god, Hazel!”

“Shh, not too loud, it’s early.” Hazel croaked as she padded over to Mia’s desk to put everything down. Mia stared widely at the food and coffee on the table, on top of some of her books and notes and she pressed her hand to her chest, “This is so nice, thank you so much.”

“Ah,” Hazel waved it away, “don’t worry about it. You’ve been having a tough week.” She leaned over Mia to look at her notes, scrunching up her nose, “Neuropsychology again?”

“Yeah.” Mia nodded, taking the clip out of her messy hair before she was about to braid it later for class, “I’m trying to be up to date for class today.”

Hazel nodded, “Hmm. What time will you be home tonight? Do you want to go out maybe?”

“Oh.” Mia immediately felt herself blushing a little bit, wondering if she’d have to come up with an excuse as to why she’d rather stay home. She awkwardly scratched behind her neck, “I-I don’t know.”

Hazel softly smiled, “You don’t have to. ‘S just a suggestion. Once again, I’d think you’d really like my friends. And actually… I was thinking of inviting them over here tonight for pre-drinks.”

“Here?” Mia asked with raised brows, “Oh my god, I haven’t cleaned all week, you can’t invite people over to a house this messy.”

Hazel chuckled, “Mia, we’re uni students. It’s pretty normal to be living in a mess and I’m sure our apartment’s still cleaner than all of theirs combined.”

“Still…” Mia found herself immediately nervous about the prospect of people in her home. It took a while for the apartment to feel like home, and she had to give the most credit to Hazel for making her comfortable here. Her chaotic, homely clutter just warmed up the entire apartment.

But having strangers over was one hurdle Mia felt anxious about, and them being in her personal space was another. She couldn’t just leave if she felt like it was too much, she’d have to wait it out. Also, she couldn’t hide in her room and there was nowhere to go. The library closed at eight and she was sure pre-drinks didn’t end before that hour.

“Look, we can go to a bar if it makes you more comfortable. It’s only like four people but Cass and Lynn are fighting with their third roommate and she kind of kicked them out of the apartment – which is crazy – and Renan lives in a shoebox and has only two chairs.” Hazel chuckled.

Mia’s lips slightly curled up at the words Hazel chose and she nibbled her lip in thought, “I-I guess. I don’t want to kick you out of your own apartment, you have a say in here too. I-I’ll try to be social but it’s really hard for me.” She spoke in a small voice before tapping her fingers on her forehead, “I might have some medicine left for my anxiety.”

“What?” Hazel frowned immediately, “Mia, no, no, no. I don’t want you to have to take pills in order to feel comfortable. Look, just think about it today and you can let me know around four, good? See how you feel about it during the day.”

Mia felt a headache coming up just at the thought of tonight, but forced a smile and nodded, “I will. Thanks again for the food, Hazel. It’s really nice of you to do that.”

“You do it for me all the time, Mia.” Her friend laughed in return, eyes briefly glancing at Mia's phone when it buzzed on the desk with a message. Hazel didn’t mean to, but she saw the name coming up on the screen and instantly frowned, “H. Sinclair?”

Mia quickly reached for her phone, opening it up to see the message from Harry as Hazel stared at her with wide eyes, “As in Harry Sinclair?”

“Yes. He’s one of my therapy students.” Mia explained, frowning a little at her screen when she saw that Harry sent her a reminder for today’s session.

Message to: H. Sinclair

Thank you for the reminder, I hadn’t forgotten :)

She locked her phone and put it back down before carefully glancing up at Hazel, “You know him?”

Hazel’s shocked expression gave it all away and she huffed out again, “Yeah, of course. He’s in some of my classes. Oh fuck, the broken bookcase, of course!” She spoke more to herself as if it suddenly all made sense.

“Hazel.” Mia scolded slightly, “It’s too early for cursing.”

Hazel put her hands on her hips and looked at Mia, “Wait, don’t tell me he’s the dickhead who made you cry this week.”

“Oh.” Mia chuckled softly, “He was, yeah. B-But I saw him yesterday during lunch and we actually redid Tuesday’s session and he was polite. Do you know him well?”

Hazel shrugged, “No, not at all. I’ve never spoken to him. He’s always late and sits in the back.. He always hangs out with the second years and does most classes with them too so I don’t see him that often, to be honest.”

Mia’s attention was back on her phone when it buzzed again.

Message from: H. Sinclair

Just checking :). Good morning, by the way. Also, I named you Dr. Phil in my phone.

Mia burst out into a cackle at that, quickly shutting up when she realised how ridiculous it sounded and she bit her lip before putting her phone down again. Hazel had her brow up as she stared at her, “Something funny?”

“H-He just, uh – “ Mia stuttered with a flush to her cheeks, “he said something funny, yes.”

“Mia.” Hazel narrowed her eyes and Mia blushed harder before sighing out with slumped shoulders, “He’s so beautiful!”

“Oh my god!” Hazel exclaimed with a wide grin, “You have a crush on him!”

Mia blushed even deeper and hastily took a sip of scorching hot coffee in an attempt to hide her face, “I do not.” She spoke with a wince, her tongue burned on the coffee but it was worth it as she just wanted to hide away from Hazel’s curious eyes, “Yes, you do! How cute! I mean, I have to admit he’s hot. I didn’t think he’d be your type though. Who was the guy you’re practically married to already?”

“Daniel? Oh, yeah, he’s completely different.” Mia shrugged, her stomach dropping a little when she remembered the deal her parents had made at a young age for her to marry Daniel. 

Hazel sat down on the edge of Mia’s bed, “So what actually happens when you get a boyfriend and don’t want to date that Daniel guy anymore?”

Mia puckered her lips in thought, “I suppose I’ve never really thought of that. Why are you assuming I’d have a boyfriend? You’re not talking about Harry, right?”

“Who knows.” She smirked and Mia blushed deeper before shaking her head, “No, you’re right. I’m not his type.”

Hazel tilted her head to the side, “I never said that, I said I didn’t think he was your type.”

“I don’t know what my type is.” Mia shrugged and Hazel exhaled a laugh, “Right, but I just wouldn’t have assumed a guy with tattoos all over his body would do it for you.”

“All over his body?” Mia gasped and Hazel threw her head back in a laugh, “Oh my god, fun! We can finally talk about our crushes together!”

Mia huffed humorlessly, “Nothing to talk about. He’s just a client and we’re doing eight sessions.”

“…and you’re texting.”

“We’re not! Some of them have my number in case they need to reschedule.” Mia defended and Hazel smiled suspiciously, “Some of them? How many?”

Mia blushed deeper and Hazel smiled wider until Mia rolled her eyes, “Fine, just him. He asked, said he hardly checks his emails!”

“That’s such bullshit!” Hazel laughed, “He just wanted your number, Mia!” She snatched Mia’s phone from the table and smiled at the screen, “He texted you good morning. That’s not just about rescheduling.”

“Give me that.” Mia mumbled, grabbing her phone again before shaking her head, “It’s nothing, I swear.”

“Alright.” Hazel grinned, 

Mia finished revising for neuropsychology while enjoying the breakfast that Hazel had brought her. Her eyes scanned her notes, brain fresh and awake this early in the morning. She was always more productive in the mornings, Mia had noticed, so she usually used that time to study or get stuff done for school before her fatigue or anxiety kicked in and the letters floated together.

Dressed in winter attire, she exited the apartment about an hour later. Hazel said goodbye to her from the couch, deciding to skip out on her classes today and lounge around the apartment. Mia almost felt anxious in her place, skipping a class sounded horrifying to her. She knew teachers didn’t really mind and it was the student’s own responsibility to make sure they were up to date with everything and met their deadlines, but still… Mia could never be that chill.

She nearly slipped on some ice when her phone buzzed on the way, and she pulled it out to reveal another message from Harry even if she never answered the previous one.

Message from: H. Sinclair

Interesting classes today?

Mia bit her lip, wondering if he truly did ask for her number for the schedule or if he maybe… liked her a little bit? The idea on its own was stupid. Someone like him could never like someone like her. He was so free-spirited and bold and blunt, while she was so shy and timid and hardly dared looking him in the eye. He was two years older than her too, which felt like a decade away in how mature they were.

But then again, why would he ask her such a silly, non-important question at such a random time in the day? She nibbled her lip and typed back.

Message to: H. Sinclair

It’s alright. One now and then two this afternoon. How about you?

She hesitated before typing the last bit, opening up the conversation. She had never really texted with a boy, no one had ever asked her for her number. Mia felt like if she went through her contact list, the information there was pretty sparse on itself, let alone any information on boys. 

But if that had been Harry’s intention, he had been smooth about it. Mia had no idea he intended to ask her for her number.

A few buildings away, Harry was seated in class in the back row with a huge thermos of coffee in front of him. Even that couldn’t help him staying awake on a Friday morning. What could help him stay awake, was receiving a message from Mia.

Harry wasn’t sure what it was, why she was interesting to him. She was pretty, for sure, but she was someone who flew under the radar and who he’d have never noticed in any other occasion besides the forced therapy the school made him do.

He still felt bad about snapping at her during that first session. He had seen it in her eyes that it had hurt her and had taken her aback, but he was too caught up in his frustration and rage at that point to really care. It only sunk in when he saw her a few days later, sitting on her own at the trash table and nibbling on some carrots.

She was jumpy and shy and blushy, which Harry just found completely endearing. He had to admit that he liked talking to her about school, about psychology and philosophy, about their different views. They were nice discussions. Until she started about the reason he had to get therapy in the first place, his public slip-up in the library.

Harry still didn’t understand why he was being punished for something like that. Everyone in school had sex in the public areas, he was just the one being caught. And not even them together, just him. Lexie had gotten away before the guard caught them and he wasn’t about to rat her out, but it did mean that the entire 4K fine the school made him pay, was on his shoulders.

He had told her about it, and not once had she suggested paying for half of it. That he could do, pay the two thousand dollars to get the school off his back, but four thousand was too much. His parents would know and that’d be a whole other thing. They were nice and open-minded, but perhaps this was pushing it.

He had dreaded the therapy sessions but somehow hoped he’d end up with some cool, open-minded therapist who would let him off the hook and they’d use the time to just chat about random stuff. Instead, he had been sitting in that office waiting for her and he saw a timid young girl with her hands full and her eyes bulging while staring at him.

Mia honestly looked like she could be blown away with a little puff of air coming from Harry’s mouth.

The second time seeing her, he felt for her. She was clearly overworked and he remembered his own early university days where he struggled to keep up with it all. He didn’t think she did the therapy sessions for extra credit, he just assumed she was some rich girl who had time to spare and decided to volunteer so she could judge about other’s mistakes.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

And now he found himself at a point where he even…. maybe…. Looked forward a little bit to seeing her.

Message to: Dr. Phil

I’m in class right now and then I’m headed home again until the therapy session. What time again?

Message from: Dr. Phil

You’re the first one on the schedule :) So four if that’s alright. That way you have most of your evening still, it’s Friday night after all.

Harry huffed out a chuckle and cleared his throat, trying to mask his laughter from the professor up front who raised a brow at him before continuing. He was in a class that he had taken last year already and even if he had failed it – twice – he felt like he almost knew it by heart and this was a complete waste of time.

Message to: Dr. Phil

That’s considerate, thank you :). And it is a Friday indeed, any plans tonight?

His leg bobbed nervously as he waited for her response, which took a little while. He assumed she had still been walking to campus, which also meant she didn’t live in the student housing on campus. Unlike him.

Message from: Dr. Phil

Not really. I think my roommate is going to invite some people. You?

Message to: Dr. Phil

I usually go out on a Friday sooo…

Harry didn’t know why he typed that and he groaned under his breath and rolled his eyes at himself, staring at the sent message. It could mean a lot of things and he wasn’t sure how Mia was going to take it.

I usually go out on a Friday sooo… I’ll end up in someone’s bed tonight.

I usually go out on a Friday sooo… it’s the same this week and I’m going to get blind drunk with my idiot roommates.

I usually go out on a Friday sooo… if you’d like to join?

He locked his phone and put it down, not feeling better about himself when Mia didn’t answer for at least an hour. Deep down he knew she was in class and that she had to be paying attention. She didn’t seem like the type to be on her phone during class, but still – she left him hanging after sending such a stupid text.

Stupid enough that he did something even more stupid, which was sending another one an hour later after lack of response.

Message to: Dr. Phil

Sorry, that sounded weird. I meant that I’m also going out tonight, as I do most Fridays.

Harry dropped his head on the table momentarily, wanting to pull his own brains out until the teacher scolded him again and gave him a warning. He pressed his lips together and placed his phone upside down, trying to pay attention and actually take notes.

The efforts Mia put in for school were very different from Harry, but he had to admit it was inspiring. 

All was forgotten though when his phone buzzed.

Message from: Dr. Phil

Hahah, yes, that’s what I assumed!! Sounds fun. Sorry I didn’t respond, neuropsychology is no joke.

He grinned at the message, his heart lighter than before and the nerves in his tummy had settled down. 

It was hours later – hours that Harry had spent playing video games with his roommates instead of doing school work – that he went back into campus to meet up with Mia. His mates had nagged him for it a little as they wanted to get their Friday drink in early – as early as one in the afternoon.

Harry declined every beverage pushed his way, claiming he had responsibilities at four and that he’d join them afterwards. They asked him to skip the session, but he had said no.

So he was braving the cold winter weather while walking up to the psychology building, the North building, where he took the stairs up to the fourth floor. His teeth were chattering slightly from the biting November cold which wasn’t being very kind on England this year.

“Hi,” He spoke to the woman who sat at reception there, “I have a meeting with Mia?”

She narrowed her eyes at her computer screen and clicked a few times, “Right, she rescheduled some sessions. She’s in room number two.”

Harry raised his brows, “She’s already here? I thought I was early.”

“Mia’s always early.” The woman chuckled simply yet Harry hardly heard her, a skip in his step as he made his way to room number two, near bursting through the door just to see Mia.

She looked over her shoulder when the door opened, seeing Harry entering with his thick winter coat on as she had just shrugged hers off. 

Harry could already tell she had a guilty look on her face from sending him walking through this weather for a rescheduled session, but he offered her a smile to ease her nerves, “Hey.”

“Hi.” She breathed as he unzipped his coat. Mia shifted on her seat, “I’m sorry that you had to come all the way here through this rain.” She apologised for something she had no control over and Harry hung up his coat besides hers, “No problem. I live on campus in the student housing so ‘m not far.”

“Oh.” She nodded, following his silhouette as he moved through the room to sit down on the other couch opposite her. He immediately looked more relaxed than earlier this week, when he avoided her stare and constantly poked his fingers into the rip of the seat. Whereas now, his eyes were curiously on her and on her only.

Mia fiddled with her fingers and reached for her cup of tea, “Do you want some tea? To warm up?”

Harry rubbed his hands together and nodded, “Actually, yeah. Sounds good. Is there a vending machine in this building?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay.” Mia smiled, getting up to reach one of the cupboards that lined the side of the little room, opening it up to pull out a mug, “This used to be a kitchen on this floor. And I’ve got a thermos and some tea bags.”

Harry huffed out a chuckle, “You just carry that around in your bag?”

Mia blushed a little as she sat back down and put the mug down on the table between them before reaching for her thermos, “I do. The tea here doesn’t taste that good, I prefer to bring my own.” She kept her eyes on the movement of her hand as she carefully poured the hot water into the mug with her lip between her teeth.

Harry used the opportunity to scan her, noticing the same braid in her hair as the other two times he had seen her. She wore a dark green knitted jumper with some flowers embroidered on it, a little oversized on her but it looked cosy. The black flares on her legs made her look taller, as did the blocked heel on the boots she wore. 

“Here you go.” She smiled shyly when putting the teabag in his mug. Harry shot her a toothy grin, “Thank you.”

His lips twitched up into a wider smile when he saw her pulling out his old notebook and the pink pen. He had completely forgotten to get it back yesterday when their session ended rather abruptly when they had to get to their next class all of a sudden, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t use the notebook much anymore and they were mostly his old notes. 

“I meant to give this back.” Mia started as if reading his mind. She had felt terrible about taking his personal belongings home with her, uncertain if Harry would get angry at her or not for doing so. She had carefully placed the notebook and the pen on her bedside table to make sure nothing happened to it, and that she could give it back today.

Harry waved it away and shook his head, “Keep it. I don’t use it anymore and I think it’s a handy little thing for you to keep around and… write in.”

Mia tilted her head to the side, “Write in?”

“Yeah.” Harry cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, “Y’know, random thoughts. Or just notes for school, whatever.”

She practically bounced in her chair from beaming so much before she nodded, “Okay. Thank you so much, Harry.”

He nodded back with a smile and Mia got more comfortable on the chair, going as far as tucking her leg underneath her. A clear sign of her comfort here, Harry noticed. She would’ve never done that during their first session. She tucked an invisible strand of hair behind her ear out of habit and nibbled her lip, “So, how did you feel after yesterday’s session?”

Mia meant it professionally, asking him how he had experienced going to therapy for the first time even if it was mandated and with another student. But she meant how he felt about talking about the topic of him having sex in the library. His mind, though, went somewhere completely else.

Because after yesterday’s session, he felt confused. Confused, frustrated, annoyed. All with himself. Confused because of how he couldn’t get her out of his mind even for a second, how she occupied every little bit of his brain for at least twenty-four hours now. Frustrated and annoyed because he wanted to hold her hand, he wanted to hold her entirely and he wanted to kiss her. Actually, he wanted to do many, many more unspeakable things to her that he was certain Mia’s mind was much too pure for.

That was the vibe she gave off, purity. Like something that had never been broken or even scratched before. She was fragile but protected. She didn’t seem like she had ever felt a little nudge before in her life to bring her out of balance. 

“Good. Fine.” He settled on answering and she nodded, “Okay, that’s good. So today, I’d like to go more in depth about what happened prior to…” She uncomfortably cleared her throat, “having intercourse in the library. Like what led up to it.” Mia explained.

Harry nodded and she continued, “Then for the next session, I’d like to take you to the actual library.”

His brows shot up, “To the library? Like some sort of exposure therapy?”

“Exactly.” Mia nodded, “I get the feeling you’re still rather closed off about the entire topic, so it might be helpful.” She offered. Harry sighed out and shrugged, “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you think we should do.”

Mia felt relieved at Harry’s quick giving into her idea. She had never done it before, taking a student out of this environment to head to the place where their incident happened that caused them to end up in therapy. But Harry wasn’t all that talkative and chatty, so she had to change directions here and branch out.

“But I have a proposition too.” Harry interrupted her thought process and held up his finger as Mia looked at him, “You do?” She asked unsurely. He smiled softly and nodded, “I do. Whenever I’m bored I get to ask you a question.”

Mia frowned, “A question?”

“Mhm.” Harry nodded, “I get to ask you a question and we talk about that for a bit. Y’know, to break my thoughts and change it up a little bit. I won’t hold out for eight sessions talking about my sex life.”

Mia blushed a little at his blunt words and slowly nodded, “Okay.” She hadn’t assumed Harry to immediately want to ask his questions. She imagined it was just something he said now, but by the time they were deep in conversation about his reason for being here, he’d forget about it and never actually ask her a question.

But Mia thought wrong. By the glint in Harry’s eyes, she could already tell it was going to be a mischievous question. He tapped his ringed fingers together, dressed in another black large jumper that swallowed him whole but also made him look very cuddly – she had a hard time focussing on his words as she just wanted him to sit still so she could stare at him. His hands or his lips specifically.

Mia prepared herself for a question she’d have to decline. It’d be something about her dating life, or her – non-existent – sexual escapades. She’d have to turn down his question and Harry would get angry and storm out again and they’d be back to square one.

“What’s your earliest memory?” Harry questioned, leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair as he got comfortable. His free hand reached for his tea and he blew a little bit of air into the hot liquid before taking a careful sip.

Mia leaned back into the chair and puckered her lips, “My earliest memory… I mean – I suppose…” She started, racking her brain and nibbling her lip – also subconsciously bringing Harry’s pink sparkly pen to her mouth to push against her bottom lip in thought, “I think when I was about five, my mother started teaching me French.”

Harry frowned at Mia’s answer, “Your earliest memory is of you learning something?”

“Yes.” She timidly answered, “Is that wrong?”

Harry took a breath and shook his head, “No, no, it’s not wrong. There’s no right or wrong answer for this question, I think.”

Mia hesitated for a moment before drawing a breath, “So what’s yours?”

“My first memory?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and Harry brought both hands behind his neck in a stretch, sighing out while leaning back and staring at the ceiling. Mia nearly didn’t care about his answer anymore. All she could focus on were his bulging biceps, the way his jumper rid up slightly with the raise of his arms and how she inappropriately glanced down to see a thin strip of pale skin showing up above the waistband of his boxers.

Hazel had been right, Harry seemingly was covered in tattoos and Mia had only seen scraps of him. She almost began hoping she put on the heating in the room too hot so he’d have to take that jumper off and she could take a look at his arms.

“Hello? Earth to Mia?” Harry snapped her out her thoughts and Mia parted her lips to apologise, a deep flush rising up her neck but Harry chuckled, “Y’really need to work on that, love. Dr. Phil never zones out like that.” He teased.

She chuckled softly under her breath and nibbled her lip, “Sorry, I was lost in thought. W-What did you say?”

There was a grin on Harry’s lips, lopsided, toothy, showing off a dimple and Mia swooned like no one else. There was a tinge of smugness in the smile too, as if he knew very well what he was doing. And Harry did know what he was doing. Not that he did it on purpose, he was just being himself, but he caught Mia staring at him without blinking every few minutes. She zoned out, entranced by him and taking in every little detail and inch of skin he gave her.

She looked like a lost puppy and Harry wanted to moan at her innocent, round eyes, slightly parted pink lips and lightly flushed cheeks. She was just so cute.

“I said my earliest memory is probably of me and my dad playing catch in the yard.” He repeated for Mia and she offered him a small smile while nodding, “That’s nice.”

“Yeah.” Harry breathed with a nod, “It is.”

They were left in a little bit of silence before Mia drew a breath, “So back to our original topic…”

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes at the deep dive into his personal life once more, somehow hoping he had distracted Mia enough to carry on a normal conversation instead of it being all about him, but he wasn’t that lucky. 

“You mentioned you live on campus with roommates?” Mia asked. Harry nodded, “Yeah, I live in the student housing with two roommates. We each have our own small rooms and then a shared living space, kitchen and bathroom. Across the hall are two more of my friends. Well, I met them due to being paired up here in student housing. I didn’t know any of them before coming here.” Harry explained.

Mia wrote some things down in Harry’s notebook and nodded, “Can you tell me their names? Might be easier.”

“Sure.” He shrugged, “I live with Liam and Niall. Louis and Zayn are across the hall.”

“That sounds like fun, having your friends so close by.”

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, it’s alright. It can get a bit busy sometimes and it gets hard to say no to certain things. Our rooms are really tiny so I don’t spend much time there except for sleeping and sometimes studying, but I can hardly fit my legs under the desk so I try to do that at the kitchen table when they’re in class.”

Mia frowned a little, realising how hard it had to be to not really have a space for yourself. Her apartment was shared, but her room was of a decent size and she had never felt smothered in those four walls. She scribbled down some more stuff, “Have you ever tried going to the library to study? I do it all the time, I kind of have my set seat there that I know I like. It gets just enough light but the sun is never in my eyes, and I have a distant view of campus which means I’m not too distracted but there’s some movement around. It’s not close to the toilets so not too many people have to pass me by the entire time.” She listed in a ramble, thinking of her favourite place on campus. The library calmed her down so much.

Harry raised his brows and huffed out a snicker, “Right. I use the library for other activities.” He decided to make fun of himself and Mia stared at him in shock as she turned bright red again, “Oh my god, I-I’m sorry! I hadn’t even… oh.” She palmed her forehead, realising her mistake while Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shaking his head, “It’s okay.”

Mia tried to come to terms with her embarrassment, taking a few more sips of tea while Harry did the same. She noticed that the moment he finished his cup, his hand blindly reached into his bag and he pulled out that same packet of gum. Popping one out, he flicked his eyes up to her, “Gum?”

“No, thank you.” Mia exhaled, mentally preparing herself to be met with the view again of Harry chewing on gum as if time worked in slow motion. She had to be strong.

“So, anyway,” She cleared her throat, “that’s kind of what I wanted to get to, I suppose. If you live on campus, why didn’t you just bring the girl to your dorm?”

She could hear the sound of Harry’s jaws crunching the fresh piece of gum and dared lifting her eyes, seeing him staring right at her with a thoughtful look. His gaze was intense and she knew he’d notice if she dropped her eyes just a sliver to stare at the way his jaws moved, so she swallowed and kept staring into his green eyes.

Harry eventually shrugged, putting Mia out of her misery by breaking the eye contact and she felt like she could breathe again. These sessions were tiring for her when the student was so attractive she could hardly focus.

“Well, like I said, these rooms are tiny. I need… space.” He used his hands in a circular motion as if to put more force behind his words, “Space to move, y’know? In the dorms we have a single bed, it’s not easy to manoeuvre. And besides that, there’s not much privacy. I can hear Niall snoring at night, I can hear the bedsprings when Liam rolls over…” He listed.

Mia tried to imagine what that was like and took more notes, bringing Harry’s pen back to her lip without thought as she glanced over the words she wrote down. Harry’s eyes zeroed in on the contact of his pen against her plump pink lip and he exhaled shakily before crossing his legs over one another.

“So is privacy important to you, then?”

Harry tilted his head to the side, “In general?”

Mia paused and took a breath, “O-Or when… you know… doing stuff.”

“Doing stuff?” He feigned confusion, wanting her to say it. Mia took another breath and avoided eye contact, “W-When having… uh – intercourse.”

“Intercourse.” Harry repeated in a hushed huff, shaking his head to himself with a small smile, “When having sex?” He boldly spoke and Mia held her breath when nodding, “Yes.”

Harry couldn’t stop the smirk from growing on his lips, “Mia…” He tutted, not missing the way her shoulders tensed when he murmured her name, “you can say it, you know?”

She frowned a little and shrugged, “I know. Can you please answer the question?”

He smirked wider. He knew it was a dick move, but he suspected she was a virgin ever since meeting her for the first time. Harry didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, she was still eighteen after all. He didn’t have his first time until shortly before his nineteenth birthday either, that wasn’t the point. The point was that she was trying to hide the fact she was a virgin, and it was sort of amusing to him that she had to listen to him talking about having sex in a public library while she had no experience whatsoever.

“I’ll answer when you say it.”

Mia shot him a deadpanned look, “Harry…” She pleaded, and this time it was Harry’s turn to feel his tummy clenching together at the sound of his name falling from her lips. If he closed her eyes, he could imagine her whining it like that in her soft voice while sitting on his lap with her top off. 

This was dangerous, dangerous territory. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, there was a thin line between his teasing and her feeling put on the spot, but he was exploring that line right now. He cleared his throat to get the dirty visual out of his brain, but he couldn’t help himself but wonder what she looked like underneath those warm clothes.

“Go on.” He pushed, deciding it was one last time and if she declined right now, he’d leave it at that. He could already see her pressing her lips together, her cheeks reddening and her eyes looking anywhere besides at him. The pen was tightly clenched between her fingers and she shifted on the couch – tucking her other leg underneath her this time – before inhaling a shaky breath, “Fine. When having s-sex.”

His brows raised up, feeling completely impressed with her. Mia tried to look at him sternly, like it wasn’t the first time she had said those words out loud to someone who was basically a stranger. She tried to hold the eye contact, but she was crumpling on the inside. Harry’s face was rather priceless though, Mia felt. She felt a little proud of herself, but also very uncomfortable and in unfamiliar territory.

Harry smiled to himself and hung his head a little lower to hide it, shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t want everyone to see, I still think it’s something shared between you and your partner. Or partners, whatever.” He spoke, “But the idea of getting caught is a little thrilling, I have to admit.”

Mia’s cheeks had turned into a normal colour now that Harry answered her question. She could feel the feeling in her fingertips returning as she nodded, “So that’s why you did it? Because you like the feeling of maybe getting caught?” She guessed.

Harry rolled his head back into the couch with a sigh, “Not entirely. I-I don’t know. Why’s it matter?”

Mia relaxed in the seat again, “I’m not trying to give you advice or anything here.” Mia spoke, referring to what Harry assumed these sessions would be about the first time they met up earlier this week. Harry’s head lifted and he stared at her with guilt behind his green irises, lips twitching down a little, “I know.”

“I guess I’m just trying to understand.” Mia shrugged and Harry sighed, “But why do you have to understand? Isn’t it normal that you don’t always understand why or how other people do something? It’s such a… psychological thing.” He couldn’t help but turn it back towards their difference in education as he shrugged, “Can’t people just do things because they want to and feel like it? Why do you always have to understand, maybe sometimes you just won’t. Ever. And I think that’s okay?” He rambled.

Mia wrote down in the notebook, finding herself in agreement with Harry but it went against what she had to do in these sessions. She drew a breath, “I understand where you’re coming from. Listen, I-I don’t make the rules here, I’m just executing them.” She softly spoke in defeat, hoping Harry understood. 

He looked at her for a few more seconds, because he did understand. And it just sort of clicked for him. He wasn’t looking at a girl who’s biggest dream was to become a therapist. He was looking at a girl who wanted to pass her classes and her exams, and who needed extra credit even if it meant spending time volunteering in a job she wasn’t all that passionate about and was trying to find herself in.

“Okay.” Harry eventually breathed, “But I think I’ve earned the right to ask you another question.”

Mia softly groaned under her breath, feeling discomfort rising in her body at whatever Harry would fire at her. She sighed and shrugged, “I guess.”

He smiled and rubbed his hands together, mindlessly chewing the piece of gum between his teeth as he thought of it and eventually cleared his throat, “Who’s your hero?”

Yet another question Mia had never seen coming, so it took her a moment to even realise his words before she thought about it. They were left in silence, Harry observing her as Mia was lost in thought until she eventually flicked her eyes at him, “Maya Angelou.”

“Wow.” Harry muttered out, nodding to himself and finding himself impressed, “That’s a really good answer. Did you read her book?”

“I know why the caged bird sings?” Mia asked before nodding, “Yes.”

Harry smiled wider, “That’s so cool.”

“Have you read it?” Mia asked and Harry shook his head, “No, but I really want to.”

Mia nibbled her lip, “I have my copy of it at the apartment, I could lend it to you if you want to.”

Harry’s face lit up as he eagerly nodded, “That’d be sick. Yeah.”

“Okay.” She smiled back widely, “I’ll bring it next week. It’s got some folded edges and I think I wrote down stuff in it and highlighted some paragraphs.” She began in the form of an apology but Harry shook his head, “Don’t worry, I like that. I want to know what you felt like reading it.”

Mia blinked a few times in shock at his words, shyly smiling down, “Alright.”

The rest of the session went by quickly, with Mia trying to explore Harry’s relationship with the school. Another reason she could think of why he would do something as provocative as sleeping with someone in the library. She knew Harry had a bit of a rough first year, so maybe he held some sort of grudge against the school, but Harry didn’t give her much of an answer to that and didn’t feel very strongly about the school in general.

He asked her another question in between, and this time it was what her favourite memory was. Mia didn’t have to think long about that one, immediately responding how she took a solo trip with her two best friends over summer. It was the first time she really went somewhere without her parents and she had never felt so free – she didn’t say it to Harry in those words but she did think fondly of those times with her friends.

Two friends, who took the leap and the opportunity to study abroad this year while Mia stayed behind. One was in Australia, the other in New York. Very far away and Mia missed them tremendously, but they kept in touch through facetime and Mia had even received a couple of postcards. 

The pictures she received of Millie lying on a sunny beach in Australia while she was freezing her butt off here, made her jealous to say the least.

Mia wasn’t sure how Harry managed to get her so weak in the knees, but every little movement he did just caught her off guard and she’d need a minute to recompose herself. She wished his session was the last one, so one, he could maybe stay a little longer and they could chat, and two, she could just go home afterwards and faint on her bed.

But no, Harry’s hour was up and she had to see two others after that and stay here until seven before going home to a crowded apartment – which still sent her spiralling. She had given Hazel the green light to invite her friends over, something she already regretted tremendously but it was too late now to back down. Mia pushed herself out of her comfort zone but regretted it instantly and tried to crawl back, but she couldn’t do that to Hazel.

“So – uh, Tuesday at three?” Harry checked as he got up and put on his coat again. Mia stood up too, awkwardly fiddling with the sleeves of her jumper before nodding, “Yes, Tuesday at three.”

Harry opened up the door already to get out but looked over his shoulder, “Have a nice weekend, Mia."

“You t-“

“Harry!” The voice interrupted Mia as she was about to wish Harry a happy weekend, and she watched with a surprised look at the girl rushing up to Harry in the hallway. She had brown hair in a ponytail, cute bangs covering up her forehead and pink cheeks from the cold outside, “There you are!” She smiled widely.

“Oh. Hey.” He mumbled, a little taken aback to see this girl here. He scratched the back of his neck while I stared at her and how beautiful she was, and the knot in my stomach dropped when I took a step back. Was she the girl he had slept with? Or was she his girlfriend? She was very pretty and she just looked… cool. Fun. She looked like his type.

Mia wanted to curl into a ball at the sight or her waiting for him and Harry glanced over his shoulder again, “Bye.”

“Bye.” Mia murmured, receiving a gentle smile from the girl who picked him up before the door closed and they left together. Her stomach was in knots seeing him leave with her. She seemed nice, the girl with the bangs and the outstanding figure and the bubbly personality. It only made Mia shrink further away, wondering how she could ever think Harry would like her.

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

The tightness in her stomach hadn’t left, and it only worsened when she realised she couldn’t just go home and cry to Hazel about whatever stupid thing had happened and then go to bed at an early hour. No, she had to open the door to multiple people being in her home.

Mia had never been a hostess, she had never really had people over. When she met up with her friends, she used to go to their houses. Her parents weren’t all that keen on having people over and disrupting their day-to-day lives. So Mia did the effort and always went over to their place instead.

She had stayed at the library for one more hour to go over her therapy notes, trying to fix all the writing mistakes she made while penning down so rapidly as people spoke to her. As much as she had tried to pay attention to the other two students who came after Harry, her mind was constantly on him.

And the pretty girl he left with.

By now, her stomach was growling and she dragged herself home, completely dreading the moment she’d open the door and be met with strange people and noises. Mia realised she sounded whiny, but the presence of crowds just dragged her down a little. She was definitely someone who gained energy and good vibes from being by herself or having individual contacts.

The moment she pushed her key into the lock of her flat, she plastered a warm smile on her face and opened up the door. Instead of being met with rowdy, partying people, she opened up the door to a lovely warm apartment to see Hazel and two other girls on the couch drinking some tea.

“Mia.” Hazel’s face lit up as she jumped to her feet, “Hi!”

“Hello.” Mia smiled as she put her bag down and nervously pushed off her coat. She glanced over Hazel’s shoulder to the two other girls who curiously looked at her and Hazel exhaled a breath while smiling, “You’re home, good. We waited on deciding for dinner until you were here. Are you hungry?”

Mia rubbed her hands together, an anxious trait before she also started fiddling with her earlobe. She nodded at Hazel’s question, “Quite hungry, yes.”

“Alright.” Hazel nodded, “Ready to meet my two friends? They’re my best friends, I’ve told you lots about them already.”

Mia nibbled her lip and nodded, “Okay.”

Hazel linked her arm in Mia’s and gently pulled her into the living room, “Guys, this is Mia, my angel of a roommate.” She introduced her and Mia immediately blushed while staring at the ground in shyness before lifting her head. The two girls seemed lovely and friendly as they offered Mia warm smiles, “Hi, we’ve heard so much about you.” One said and the other nodded, “It’s really nice to meet you.” She added.

“You too.” Mia murmured. Hazel then spoke again, “Mia, that’s Cassie.” She introduced Mia to a girl with strawberry blonde hair, styled into a wolf cut that looked incredible on her, before moving onto the next girl, “And Lynn. They live together.” She explained.

Mia nodded and took in the second girl, who had raven-coloured long hair and wore it in a high ponytail. She wore dark, smudgy eye make-up and it looked incredible on her. Both were dressed in outfits that signalled they were going to some sort of bar after this, because they weren’t really dressed for cold weather at all.

“Yeah, we live together with the spawn of Satan.” Lynn dramatically added, and before Mia knew it they were explaining to her the story of how they were fighting with their third roommate and hardly dared going home anymore since the third girl terrorised the place apparently. Mia listened with wide eyes and interesting nods. She had never been introduced to so much drama but it was quite fun to hear about.

Hazel stared at her roommate with proud eyes as she sat in between Cassie and Lynn. Mia only really turned pink and shy when they asked her a question, but Hazel had spoken to them about Mia and let them know to take it easy on her.

They eventually decided to order pizza, Mia even branching out by trying a few toppings. She had to admit she forgot all about Harry while hanging out with Hazel’s friends in such a non-expecting kind of way. Like these people were just genuinely nice and interested and they didn’t judge or want anything from her.

It was refreshing. She didn’t have to prove a thing to them.

“Alright, it’s nine in the evening, I think it’s time to start drinking.” Cassie eventually announced after finishing up her tea, “Who wants margarita’s?!”

Lynn and Hazel both cheered as Mia blinked at Cassie a few times, who softly smiled at Mia from her position next to her, “Do you want one, Mia? I can make it non-alcohol if you like.”

Mia let out a relieved breath and nodded, “That would be lovely, thank you so much.”

“No problem.” Cassie assured before she got up her feet and made herself comfortable in Mia and Hazel’s kitchen. Mia’s fingers itched to go help her or clean up after her or tell her not to slam the drawers so hard – but she refrained herself. She was trying to let go.

Once the doorbell rang, everyone assumed it was the pizza delivery service, but the third friend showed up. Renan was a very gay eighteen year old who Hazel had known most of her life. His hair was dyed navy blue and he sported a nose ring – which made Mia think of Harry instantly. He was just as friendly as the other two yet Mia needed a little more time to warm up to him for the simple fact that he was a man and she hadn’t interacted with men all that much in such a casual setting.

The non-alcohol margarita tasted delicious and eventually, Cassie made her a second one when the pizza’s arrived. It was foreign for Mia, sitting on the carpet around the coffee table and sharing pizza while having drinks and casual chats with friends. She was mostly listening to what they talked about, observing a little bit and smiling along sometimes.

Hazel followed her gaze when Mia got a text from Harry, smirking knowingly but not saying anything to her friends. Mia was pretty sure Lynn was in philosophy too.

Message from: H. Sinclair

Today’s session was actually kind of fun! Still no plans for tonight?

Mia warily looked at the message, leaving it open for a bit as she turned her phone over again and contemplated on what to answer him. She could feel Hazel staring at her and avoided her eyes. She didn’t exactly want to discuss this with the entire group, it’d be something for her and Hazel to talk about when they were on their own. 

“So Mia, do you want to go out with us tonight? We’re just going to this bar near campus.” Renan asked while chewing his pizza. Mia stopped mid-chew to stare at him and then flicked her eyes to Hazel, who was already looking back at her. Mia swallowed and cleared her throat, “Oh – uh… I don’t know.”

“Why not?” He pouted and Mia chuckled, “I-I wanted to revise a little bit.”

Cassie groaned in protest, “But it’s a Friday! Come on, it’ll be fun. It’s just a bar, nothing too crazy or loud or far. If you want to go home, you can.” She promised.

Mia felt put on the spot but eventually nodded, “Y-Yeah. Okay. I’ll come with you.” Her heart was beating a billion miles an hour as she agreed to do something she had never done before, and her anxiety was through the roof.

She stopped eating the pizza, her appetite fully gone and then she grabbed her phone, texting Harry back with shaky fingers.

Message to: H. Sinclair

I’m glad you liked it :). I’m going to a bar.

She sent it like that and locked her phone again before Hazel pulled her out of her thoughts, “Mia, can I talk to you for a minute?” She asked, nudging her head towards her bedroom. Mia nodded and followed her, blocking out the noise of the other three talking and laughing as she closed the door behind them when in Hazel’s bedroom.

“Are you okay?” Hazel checked immediately, “You don’t have to go out with us if you don’t want to. They won’t mind, I promise. They’re not like that. They just really like you and it would be fun if you’d join us. We’re just headed to that bar across the East building, it’s really mellow there and nothing rowdy.” She rambled.

“I-I’m fine. I think.” Mia stuttered, “Just a little nervous.”

Hazel pouted a little, “I know, I can tell.”

Mia fiddled with her fingers, “Can you… make me pretty then?”

“You’re already pretty.” Hazel frowned and Mia nibbled her lip, “Yeah, but… I don’t know, like my clothes and what make-up I should wear?”

“Of course,” Hazel rushed out, “but you don’t need any of that. Where’s this coming from?”

Mia pressed her lips together and shrugged and Hazel frowned deeper, “Is this because of Harry?”

“He just…” Mia sighed before shrugging again and diverting her eyes lower, “some girl picked him up after therapy and she was really pretty.”

“Is she his girlfriend, you think?”

“I don’t know.” Mia murmured, “I didn’t talk to her and I haven’t asked him. I-It’s stupid, right? That I’m feeling so down about that?”

“It’s not.” Hazel shook her head, “You like him a little, you have a crush. So it’s not a nice feeling to see him with someone else, even if she’s not his girlfriend. Have you spoken to him afterwards?”

Mia pulled out her phone, unlocked it and showed her screen with the messages. Hazel’s eyes flicked over the typed letters and she puffed out a loud huff, “Damn, Mia, you’re cold!”

“What?” Mia asked with raised brows and Hazel laughed softly, “You didn’t give him any room for an answer! You didn’t ask what he was doing, you didn’t say what bar you’re going to… it’s pretty obvious he asked you that because he wants to see you tonight.” She grinned.

Mia frowned, “It is? Obvious? I-I don’t know.”

Hazel playfully rolled her eyes, “You’re just so oblivious. Come on, let’s get you ready.”

“Yeah.” Mia ignored the heaviness in her tummy, somehow wanting to do this tonight but today had just already been a lot and she felt like she could use a nap. But she tried to be more spontaneous. If the bar really was that close, maybe she could just leave after like ten minutes of socialising and pushing her boundaries.

“D’you want a hug first?” Hazel offered and Mia sighed with low shoulders, “Yes, please.”

Hazel chuckled and pulled Mia into her, and the two hugged in the bedroom of the apartment which relaxed Mia to an extent she couldn’t explain. She pulled back with a soft smile, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Hazel nodded, before pulling Mia into her own bedroom to pick out an outfit.

About twenty minutes later, the entire crew of five was in Mia’s bedroom, looking for outfits. Mia had felt uncomfortable at first with all these people in her space, but they didn’t make anything weird and they didn’t look at her strangely. They just looked at her clothes and gave her advice, eventually settling on a cute flowy top with little blue flowers on it. It was a little low shaped around her chest but nothing her loose hair wouldn’t cover up. She pulled out the braid for the first time in what felt like forever.

Along with black flares that nipped in at her waist to give her an outstanding figure – as Renan said it to make Mia blush – and some heeled boots, the observers deemed her ready to go out with them. Mia borrowed a leather blazer from Hazel and felt like an entirely new woman. 

She was still fiddly and anxious, but also a little excited. She felt comfortable around these people and she hadn’t heard from Harry anymore. She hardly believed Hazel’s words. If Harry wanted to see her, he’d ask her, right?

Cassie offered her another non-alcohol margarita while Lynn did some magic on Mia’s eyes. With just some soft brown eyeshadow and a little blush, she looked very put together and was happy with the result.

“You have such good skin.” Lynn complimented while stroking the brush over Mia’s cheeks. The compliment made her smile and giddy inside, “Thank you. I have a pretty good routine down.”

“Yeah? You should let me have a look at those products.” She chuckled, “My skin’s a nightmare ever since going on birth control.”

Mia didn’t answer much, she couldn’t really talk about the topic of birth control. She wasn’t on any – her mother would absolutely kill her if she so much as mentioned it – and she didn’t feel like she truly needed it right now. Her periods weren’t all that bad and she wasn’t sexually active.

Once Mia put on her shoes, everyone was ready to leave a little bit before eleven. Mia couldn’t remember the last time she stayed up this late, her arm linked in Hazel’s as they braved the November cold in their thin – yet pretty – outfits.

A few streets over, Harry was in the very bar Mia was heading to. He sat next to Liam, drinking beer out of the bottle with his jumper on the chair next to him and his arms on display. He leaned back into the chair, watching as Niall and Louis played a game of pool and Zayn was at the bar ordering some more drinks.

His phone was on the table, staring at Mia’s message. He let out another sigh after swallowing his beer, “Seriously, what am I supposed to answer to that?” He groaned while showing Liam the screen. His friend had chuckled at his desperate attempts to get Mia to have a decent conversation with him through text. He shrugged, “She’s not a mind reader, Harry. I don’t think there’s any malicious intent in her text, she just doesn’t realise what you really want to ask.”

Harry rolled his eyes, nervously chewing on his lip. Today had been great with Mia – great enough that Harry could not get her out of his mind. The way her face fell when Sarah waited for him after the session, hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. He didn’t understand it, but didn’t have time to ask her anything.

Harry shot Sarah a brief wave, who was on the other side of the bar with Mitch. They were also people Harry had gotten to know through student housing, and he actually set the two of them up. He was quite proud of his work as Cupid, he only hoped he could do it for himself once too. 

As Zayn came back with the beers, the door opened with a little ding and Harry routinely checked to see who walked in and if it was someone he knew.

He froze completely when he did a double take, thinking he recognized Mia, only she looked completely different. Well, not completely different. Her hair was the same – only out of the braid – and he recognized the blue of her eyes as well as her soft pink lips, and the shape of her body in the flares she had worn all day.

But she looked confident, dressed in a cute floral top which was mostly hidden by the leather jacket she wore. She was surrounded by giddy girls which Harry recognized faintly from school. Mia had her arm linked in Hazel’s, someone Harry knew from certain classes.

“Liam.” He elbowed his buddy in the ribs harshly while keeping his eyes trained on Mia, who unsurely darted her eyes through the space to seize it up. Harry wondered if she had ever been here before.

“Ouch.” Liam complained, rubbing his sore rib as he frowned at Harry, “What?”

“That’s her.” He nudged his head in Mia’s direction who was now near the bar and standing close to Hazel while fiddling with her fingers. Liam chuckled, “Mia? She’s the one in the floral top?”

“Yes.” He nodded and Liam hummed, “She’s really cute.”

Harry turned around with a glare and Liam burst out into a cackle, “Fucking hell, you’ve got it bad. I mean she looks really sweet, H. Kind of too sweet for you.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Too sweet for me.” He repeated in a low mumble and Liam chuckled again, “I don’t think it’s a bad thing, I think you can use someone to soften you up a little. You’re always so grumpy and uptight.”

“’M not uptight.” Harry retorted and Liam rolled his eyes, “It’s not because you fuck someone in a library and get caught doing so, that you’re not uptight. You’re just so… impatient and short-tempered. Like I said, someone to soften you up.”

Harry rolled his eyes too and snuck his eyes back to Mia, completely drawn to her and he knew other guys in the space were shooting her looks too. It was obviously someone new, someone no one had really seen before. She didn’t stand out much still in between her rather eclectic friends – including a guy with blue hair – but she was very easy on the eyes.

When she finally caught his eye, Mia’s face completely fell in pure shock. She paled and swallowed thickly, forcing him a tight-lipped smile, which Harry returned as he shot her a small wave. Mia’s heart was pounding and she turned around briskly, “Hazel.” She spoke in a right panic, eyes wide and heart thrashing violently in her chest.

Hazel frowned, “What’s wrong?”

“He’s here.” Mia squeaked in a shaky voice, “He’s here, he’s sitting right there! Oh my god.” She whispered while bringing her hand up to her mouth, “Oh my god, I’m gonna be sick.”

Hazel pressed her lips together, trying to keep a straight face when she really wanted to burst out laughing, “Mia,” She breathed, “he’s just a guy. Just… let him come to you and see what happens. You don’t need to be nervous. He’s just like you and me.”

Mia tried to level her breathing, tried to really listen to what Hazel was saying but her mind was clouded with anxiety, balancing on the edge of excitement but just tipping over into the truly scary side that made her spiral a little. 

She felt Harry’s eyes burning into her back and she subconsciously immediately wondered if he liked the way she looked tonight. Hazel nudged her into a booth and Mia slid in, sitting in between Cassie and Hazel and right across from Renan and Lynn. Her hands anxiously rubbed together on her lap until Hazel took a hold of one of them to distract her.

Mia really couldn’t explain how eternally grateful she was for her friend and her endless patience.

Sitting down, she found herself calming down a little. Harry wasn’t in her direct sight, she’d have to near snap her neck to take a look at him. She slowly sipped on the non-alcohol drink Hazel ordered her. It tasted sweeter than the margarita from earlier and she found herself quite liking it. She listened in on conversation but no one really seemed to mind that she was more of a silent observer than a loud participant.

Letting her eyes scan the room, Mia began to appreciate the building they were in. It was cosy and nice. The music was rather soft and in the background, it was littered with booths and then some smaller, round tables. There were pool tables on one side, the ceilings were high and had some wooden beams on them and the bar was long and shiny. It really did give off a good vibe.

Her breath caught in her throat again though when she laid eyes on the girl she had seen Harry with earlier. Her hair was still in the ponytail and she smiled widely at something the guy opposite her said, and Mia’s eyes widened when she leaned over the table and planted a kiss to his lips. 

Okay, so not Harry’s girlfriend.

Mia instantly felt silly for immediately assuming something like that and let out a sigh, wondering if she had been harsh in her messaging to Harry. With her lip between her teeth, she pulled out her phone.

Message to: H. Sinclair

Hi. :)

She left the page open, waiting for the three dots to appear in an answer from him, but minutes passed and nothing came on. Mia exhaled a breath and dared to sneak a glance over her shoulder, quickly seeing Harry leaned over the pool table with a stick in his hand and his lip between his teeth before he took his shot. She averted her eyes to the table behind him, seeing his phone on it.

He hadn’t seen. He hadn’t ignored her.

She felt relieved again, but hated the way she was so affected by this entire thing. She hadn’t really even known Harry for a week yet had seen him three times, and the receiving or not receiving a message from him really affected her mood. She didn’t like it, the power she had so willingly handed him because she was very certain it wasn’t the other way around.

She doubted he thought of her that much or that he waited for her text, or that he was this nervous to be in the same room as her.

Following along in conversation again, it was only a few minutes later that Mia wiggled herself out of the booth to get the next round. She had seen other people ordering and then the bartenders brought the drinks to the table, so she could do that. Order and pay, and then sit down again for them to be delivered. There was no way she could carry five drinks.

She had taken off the blazer and brushed her hair over her shoulder as she waited in line, subtly glancing to her left to see Harry again. She had been so shocked to see his face, that she hadn’t even noticed he was wearing a shirt and she could see his arms. He was too far away for her to decently see what tattoos he had, but he definitely had tattoos. His one arm looked like it was inked with lots of smaller doodles, while his other arm seemed mostly vacant apart from a few larger ones she couldn’t really see well.

He had a concentrated frown on his forehead, brown wavy chestnut hair swept away with one little floppy curl hanging down over the skin. He peeked through one eye before jamming his arm forward, bicep flexing as he harshly hit the white ball to collide with another.

Mia didn’t know much about the rules of pool, but in her mind, Harry had just won the entire game. He stared critically at his work, walking a slow circle around the table until she could see his casual jeans coming into sight. With the white t-shirt on, he looked so incredibly good she could drool if she opened her mouth.

“Hi.” Someone stood in front of her, blocking her view of Harry immediately and she blinked a couple of times to snap out of her thoughts. In front of her was a blonde man, smiling gently down at her to reveal one dimple in his cheek.

Harry had two.

She shifted on her other leg and politely smiled back, “Hi.”

“I haven’t seen you around here before, is it your first time here?” He questioned out of the blue and Mia swallowed, nodding softly, “It is.”

He took a swig of his beer and hummed, “Well, nice to meet you. I’m Tyler.” He extended his hand for her to shake and Mia hesitantly did, shaking it, “Mia.” She introduced herself.

The guy didn’t move away from her as she moved up a spot in the line for the bar. She snuck a glance over her shoulder, seeing Hazel and Cassie with their backs to her while Lynn and Renan were too busy in conversation to notice Mia talking to this stranger.

She tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans awkwardly, not sure what else to do with them.

“So you’re a student, I suppose?” Tylerasked, shuffling along with her. Mia nodded, “I am. Psychology, first year.”

Tyler’s face lit up, “Really? No way! I’m in my third year of psychology.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Mia smiled gently, feeling slightly more at ease now that it sounded like he was just being polite and moving up in the line with her. Maybe he attempted to strike up a conversation to cut the line a little, make people think they were together so he didn’t have to wait for drinks as long.

“First year’s quite hard, don’t let it demotivate you though.” Tyler advised, “Are you struggling with any subjects?”

All of them – Mia thought to herself, but she shrugged instead, “It’s alright.” She lied, “Neuropsychology is quite difficult.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Tyler groaned, “I hated that. Who’s the professor again?”

“Professor Sawyer.” Mia answered and he chuckled again, “Right. She was such a bitch to me in my first year.”

Mia felt a little taken aback by his blunt words and just pressed her lips together. Never did she think she’d ever call another woman a bitch. Nor did she think professor Sawyer was one. She was a strict professor, but a correct one. She brought the course materials in a very right way, only it was a difficult subject and Mia was already slightly behind due to her dyslexia.

“So – uh,” Mia cleared her throat, forcing herself to say something, “how did your first year go?”

Tyler chuckled while taking another sip, “Passed the entire thing, with flying colours actually.”

Even if he was cocky about it, Mia did find herself slightly impressed. Tyler caught onto the look of wonder in her eyes, “If you ever have any questions… I could tutor you.”

Mia’s stomach tightened and her hands balled into fists in the back pockets of her jeans, “Oh. T-That’s nice but I’m actually following tutoring sessions already.”

“Yeah, but you have to pay for those. You wouldn’t have to pay for them with me. Unless – I mean, if you wanted to buy me dinner or pay me back in some other way, I wouldn’t stop you.” He had a small smirk on his lips and Mia’s cheeks heated up, immediately wondering if he meant what she thought he meant, and she very much hoped not.

She offered him a tight-lipped smile and Lucas drew a breath, “I’ll put my number in your phone, y’know, in case you ever need it.”

Mia felt her throat going a little dry, “I-I don’t have my phone on me right now.” She mumbled. It was true, she had left it on the table. All she took was some cash. She looked at her table, realising no one had noticed yet that she was here with Tyler in a conversation that had turned unpleasant pretty quickly. Not even the people around her – who could listen in – seemed alarmed at how uncomfortable she got.

“Oh,” Tyler pulled out his phone, “you can put your number in mine then.”

Mia’s lips parted as she scanned her brain for the right words to say until she eventually found her voice, “I – uh… I don’t think I want that. I don’t need tutoring, thank you.”

“Mia.” He frowned, pushing his phone a little closer to her, “C’mon, put in your number.”

“She said no, just back off.” Harry’s voice sounded closer by then she could’ve anticipated, and Mia jumped up a little at his sudden interruption. She could see him behind Tyler, a concerned frown on his face before he glanced at Mia, “Hey. You alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” She shakily answered. Tyler stared Harry up and down, “What? Mate, I’m in conversation.”

“Not anymore.” Harry shrugged, “Get lost, leave her alone. She doesn’t want your number.”

Tyler frowned deeper at him and then stared at Mia, huffing out bitterly before he turned around and left. Mia felt like she could breathe decently and Harry took Tyler’s spot, taking in Mia’s trembling form.

“Mia.” He tried to get her attention, moving one hand to her arm to get her to look at him, “I need you to tell me if you’re okay.”

Mia felt electrified with him touching her for the first time, a warm palm that she could feel even through the fabric of her floral blouse with the long bell sleeves. “Y-Yeah, I’m okay.” She murmured. Harry still looked worried as he nodded and then dropped his hand, “Good. I sent you like three texts asking you if I had to come and save you.”

She rubbed her forehead, “I left my phone on the table, I didn’t see.”

“Oh. Well, it’s always a good idea to bring your phone if you’re leaving your little group. Even in a bar like this, there are creeps everywhere.” His voice sounded gravelly and if Mia hadn’t been so flustered from her run-in with Tyler, she’d appreciate the way Harry stood in front of her in his effortless beauty. How someone could make a white shirt and blue jeans look so fashionable, was a mystery to her.

“Right.” She nodded at his words which were so obvious, “I-I’m sorry.” Mia felt stupid for not thinking of something so small as keeping her phone on her. Her arms were around herself and Harry shook his head, “Don’t apologise, ‘m just glad you’re okay.” He reassured her.

“And thank you for saving me.” She breathed, “He wanted my number, I-I didn’t want him to have it.”

Harry nodded, “I know.” He tried his best to keep his calm, but to see some guy blatantly flirting with an anxious Mia while he had to watch from across the bar as she forced him tight-lipped smiles and hardly dared to look at him, had been torture for Harry.

He didn’t want to overstep, but he didn’t want to leave her alone either. When he saw her visibly flinching at something he said, that’s where Harry drew the line and went to intervene. And he was glad he did, and he felt like he should’ve done it sooner.

“I was just trying to be polite.” Mia choked out, “I wasn’t flirting with him, I-I swear.”

“Hey,” He frowned, bringing his hand back to her bicep to gently rub in an attempt to calm her down, “I know, it’s okay. I didn’t think you were.”

Mia’s body flooded with relief at his words and Harry then shot her a reassuring smile, “I’m actually glad to run into you here. Didn’t think this was the bar you were referring to.”

“Oh.” Mia smiled softly, “I-I’ve never actually been here. I usually stay in on Fridays and enjoy some time by myself.”

Harry nodded, “Right. Well, I’m glad you’re here.” He repeated, feeling stupid about saying the same thing twice, but it was worth it when it caused Mia to shyly smile down at her feet. Harry decided to push it, feeling slightly more confident that maybe – just maybe – she had a crush on him too. “You look really pretty, Mia.”

“Stop.” She winced, bringing her hands out of the pockets of her jeans to hide her face with a giggle. Harry laughed at that, “What?” He pried and she shook her head, “You’re making me blush.” She admitted in a murmur.

They shuffled further into the line, only one person in front of them before she could place her order. “Because I’m giving you a compliment?” Harry asked and Mia nodded, still hiding her face until she spread her fingers so she could peek through them. Harry was still smiling at her and she eventually dropped her hands, revealing her pink cheeks and her soft grin.

Harry breathed out a chuckle and shook his head, “You’re also really cute.”

“Oh my god.” Mia winced, hiding her face again and Harry laughed a little louder this time, not stopping himself as he ghosted his hand over her lower back to nudge her forward. He did gently touch her to get her attention, “It’s your turn to order.”

Mia took a breath before removing her hands and clearing her throat in front of the waiter, “Hi. Uh – two beers, one red martini and one pink martini. And one alcohol free margarita, please.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a soft smile, and he didn’t have to ask her to know which drink was for her. He also signalled the waiter, “Another beer for me. You can bring the drinks to that table,” He pointed to where Mia’s friends were, “and bring one of the beers and the margarita straight here.” He spoke.

The waiter nodded and when Mia went to pay for the drinks, Harry shook his head and instead offered his own card before Mia could protest. She stared at Harry with big wondrous eyes and he smiled down at her before urging her to sit down on one of the barstools off to the side. She did as he motioned for her to do before watching him as he grabbed another barstool and easily lifted it.

The sight of his muscles working just made her feel something she couldn’t really explain, and Harry was oblivious to her staring eyes as he placed the stool down right next to hers, their knees bumping together clumsily before he climbed on it.

“Thank you for the drink.” Mia broke the silence. Harry waved her sentiment away with a chuckle, “That’s alright.”

“How did you know the margarita was mine?” She asked curiously and Harry leaned his elbow on the bartop, shrugging, “Guessed it. You don’t strike me as the type to drink much.”

Mia’s smile fell a little and Harry caught on, quickly shaking his head, “No, no, I don’t mean in like a… I think you’re boring-way, because definitely not. I don’t know, you just seem careful.”

“I am.” She admitted, leaving out the part where she wondered sometimes if it was too careful. Mia always felt like careful was a nice way of saying that she was boring, and she had heard it all her life. Some said she was too careful and others – her parents – claimed she was never careful enough. Mia drew a breath, “I’ve never had an alcoholic drink.”

“That’s fine.” Harry shrugged, “I don’t drink much besides beer either."

Their drinks got placed in front of them before the waiter hurried away to serve the remainder of the people waiting in line. Harry lifted up his bottle, “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Mia softly smiled, “And thank you, again. For the drink, for stepping in, for… everything.”

“Now you’re going to make me blush.” He teased and Mia giggled, taking a sip of her drink as he took a sip of his. He swallowed it, “D’you want to try it? Beer?” He offered her his bottle.

“Oh.” Mia hesitated, nibbling her lip. Harry saw her stare, “It doesn’t have much alcohol in it. You definitely won’t feel it from one sip, I promise.”

She looked at him and eventually nodded, “Okay.” She took the bottle from him and carefully brought it to her lips. Harry wanted to shoot himself when he could only think unholy things as she tipped the bottle back and her lips folded around the crown of it. He wanted to throw it to the side and pull her on his lap and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

Somehow it felt a little intimate, her drinking from his bottle. Her drinking where his lips had just been. Mia made a bit of a sour face at the taste and swallowed quickly, “I don’t think I like it.”

Harry chuckled and quickly reached for the bottle again, taking an urgent sip with the sole purpose of trying to taste some of her on it. And he did. The sweetness of her drink was covering up the crown of the bottle, and he licked his lips to savour it afterwards.

“You have so many tattoos.” Mia observed, deciding to state the obvious now that she could get a good look at his arms. Harry glanced down too and nodded, “I do. Kind of couldn’t stop once I started. I really only started getting them when I turned eighteen and it went on from there.” He simply explained.

Mia finally could see the full writing on his wrist, staring at the ink that decorated him so perfectly it seemed almost like he was born with it. 

Her and Harry got lost in a conversation she couldn’t exactly remember. The green of his eyes was enough to block out all her senses, and Harry thought it was adorable how she had to often ask him to repeat a question because she was stuck staring at him. It turned into blushing cheeks for her and teasing grins from him. 

Their knees bumped together more often now and Mia’s cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. She still felt some anxiety, but it was pure excitement now. Excitement to spend time with Harry, who had sort of been her knight in shining armour tonight. Mia hated to admit that she found that attractive, yet she had a feeling Harry didn’t mind being protective.

And she felt safe here, with him in a rather crowded bar. 

Her smile faltered though when she noticed Tyler again in the corner of her eye, glaring at the pair as he mumbled something to one of his mates. They didn’t seem to pay much attention to his words, but Mia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Harry took notice of it, following her gaze before shooting her a sympathetic smile, “Are you okay?” He checked once more.

Mia exhaled a breath and contemplated her answer, but Harry beat her to it, “D’you want to go home?”

She lifted her eyes, apologising to him through them, “I think so, yes.”

He nodded understandingly, “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

Mia’s brows raised, “What? You don’t have to do that. Your friends are all here.”

“I see them every day.” He chuckled, “I don’t mind, Mia. Really. It would make me feel a lot better to know you got home safe.”

She nibbled her lip in hesitation, “Are you sure?”

“Very sure.” He nodded with a confirming smile, “I suppose you don’t live far?”

“No, like ten minutes.”

“Perfect.” Harry smiled, “Come on, let me walk you home.”

She fought the grin on her lips but found herself nodding, “Okay.”