#unbelievable how fast i reached 100 followers

[gt-abby]

Hello??

Didn't even realize I reached 100 followers! Thank you guys so much!! Lmk if you have any requests for drawings or a writing snippet

[peachycheol]

| reliable |

© banner credit: thank you to the love of my life @suhdreams​ for making this banner for me 🥺💘 ➸ summary: when people say ‘not all men’, they’re actually right. kim mingyu, your best friend, would never disappoint you. especially not in the bedroom.  ➸ genre: pwp 😌 ➸ pairing: best friend!mingyu x reader  ➸ warning: dirty talk, slight dumbification, heavy petting, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl), cream pie, oral (fem. receiving), cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yn is really horny? ➸ w.c: 3.2k ➸ tags: you can all thank @risquewonu​ for this <333  

➸ author’s note: ahh, i’m sorry this took me so long! i didn’t mean to write this much, but what the smuth wants, the smuth gets. also, i want to thank you all for 100 followers! i’ll make a separate post to properly thank you all, but i am!!! baffled!!! i really appreciate the support ;u; love you guys! 

If there are two things in this world that you are absolutely certain of, they are: 1) Men ain’t shit, and 2) with the exception of Kim Mingyu. Knowing this information doesn’t really benefit you in any way. You still go out on Tinder dates that leave you high and dry 15 minutes after taking you home. And Kim Mingyu is still your very platonic best friend, who seems to be reliable in every single way except perhaps in the one way you need most desperately. 

But for all you know, he could be just like every other male in bed. He couldn’t be unbelievably handsome, the most thoughtful, caring person you know, and a sex god; it just wouldn’t be fair! No, it is much easier to convince yourself that Mingyu’s perfection only extended to being a best friend, if only for your peace of mind. Otherwise, you’d have to live with the possibility that the only person who can give you sweet release is the only one you’re technically not supposed to fuck. 

For reasons that seem to become annoyingly hazy every time you lie down next to him on his bed, just as you are at this moment. 

The two of you often end nights out like this, scrolling through one another’s TikTok’s until the wee hours of the morning, laughing loudly until his neighbors threaten to file a noise complaint. As someone who has claimed him as your best friend for three years, you know you’re supposed to be used to the smell of the musky cologne that clings onto his sheets and the feeling of his warm body as he leans closer to show you his For You Page. But lately, it seems harder and harder to fight off the warmth that pulses straight to your core whenever he does anything as simple as laugh, making you shiver when his breath tickles the side of your neck. 

God, you just really need to get laid properly. You lick your dry lips and try to remind yourself that you have no idea if Mingyu would even be able to satisfy you. Though you do have to admit you couldn’t imagine any situation where the boy isn’t overly generous and eager to please-- No! Just watch the damn TikToks! 

“Hey, you good?” Mingyu suddenly asks, nudging your side. “Why aren’t you laughing? ‘His package needs to come in the fe-mail’! That one’s gold!”

You let out a snort. Leave it to Mingyu to bring you back to reality with one line. Even when you don’t say a word, he knows exactly what you need in a moment, which in this case is a reminder that he’s your very dorky friend. “Shut up, that’s so stupid,” you say, but you can’t help but laugh along with him when it replays.

“Aha, you laughed though.” Satisfied with your response he scrolls down to a video of a girl smiling suggestively into the camera. She points to the caption that says ‘If all the boys that made me cum were in my room with me right now, I would…’ Suddenly, the camera pans and she looks at the screen tiredly. The caption now read as ‘Be alone. Men are trash’.

At this, you bust out with a howl of laughter, clutching at your stomach. It was kind of sad, but it was good to know you weren’t alone in this world. All the while, Mingyu stares at you with an eyebrow raised. Once you calm down, you meet his amused gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“You thought it was that funny, huh? It’s not even that accurate,” he says teasingly. 

You roll your eyes. “Um, yeah it is. I’ve never met a man who could make me cum, and clearly many other people can relate. This video has 1.4k likes!”

Mingyu quickly puts his phone down and pouts. “Nu uh! Not all guys are that incompetent!” 

“Men are such babies,” you sigh. “They are that incompetent! You know how many dates I went to last semester, right? Not one of them made me cum!”

“Okay, I told you before you even went on those dates that those guys weren’t worth your time.” Mingyu waves his hand dismissively. “For your information, I have made sure that all the ladies that I’ve taken to the bedroom had at least one orgasm. At least!”

“Mingyu, sweetie,” you coo, patting his cheek as if to comfort him. “They were all faking it, because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”  Right? They all had to have faked it. You try to tell yourself this, try to reign in the last bit of sanity you have before your mind wanders off to anywhere inappropriate.

Your best friend now props himself up so that you could properly see the smirk plastered across his annoyingly chiseled features. “You’re so sure, huh? I bet I could make you cum multiple times. Easily.” 

Your mouth falls open in shock. It isn’t uncommon for the two of you to taunt each other like this, but you have also never been in such a vulnerable mood. It’s the type of mood that has your heart racing impossibly fast, the type of mood that has your panties pathetically damp from just one sentence. You blink, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You know it’s too late, though; your imagination is already flashing through scenes of your deepest desires, all being fulfilled by the man in front of you. But Mingyu is only joking, so you do what you can to continue playing along and pretend like you don’t want him to just fuck you into the mattress until you were drooling into his sheets. 

“I-I seriously doubt that!” you say, but there is no conviction in your voice. Clearing your throat, you try adding, “Dude, I’ve literally seen you fall down a flight of stairs when you were sober. And we were going up. Kinda hard to imagine that you’ll know how to fuck me to an orgasm when you can’t even walk right.” 

Now you’re just lying through your teeth, but you want to hold off the inevitable moment that Mingyu discovers your apparent arousal for as long as possible. The last thing you need right now is for him to laugh in your face.

Mingyu chuckles, then suddenly shifts so that his arms are placed on either side of your head, trapping you underneath him. To his surprise, you do nothing to push him off like you usually do at this point. Still, he doesn’t plan on being the first to back off, so he continues his little game, intent on winning. “See, this is why you can’t find a guy who can satisfy you. You clearly don’t know what to look for.” He leans down until the tip of his nose grazes yours. For good measure, he drops his voice an octave and says, “You’ll be the one who can’t walk right when I’m done with you.” 

Perplexingly, his shameless flirting doesn’t make you move as he predicted. Nor does it make you look annoyed. Instead, you look up at him with eyes that are unmistakably glazed over with something he didn’t quite expect to see: pure lust. It immediately sends a rush of blood down to his cock. He blinks. Oh. So this is where the night is going. He only falters for a moment, but he soon flashes a breathtaking smile down at you, his eyes glinting mischievously. 

 It isn’t like he’s never thought about it before; he had just assumed that once you started calling him your best friend, you were also lowkey telling him that sex was off the table. And it wasn’t like he minded, because he definitely liked being by your side knowing it was fully okay to be himself since you were obligated to love him regardless. Plus there was just something about you that made him want to take care of you and if being your best friend was the only way he could do it, then that had been fine by him. But now that he knows that he can take care of you in another way, in the way that he sometimes found himself yearning for on lonely nights, he is all too eager to break free of the unspoken boundaries between the two of you. 

“And what am I looking for?” you whisper. 

“It seems like you’re looking for me, baby,” he responds softly, before pressing a kiss where your jaw meets your neck. He slowly drags his lips down the side of your neck, and revels in how it already has you pressing your legs together. “Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said those guys didn’t make you cum, huh? Is that why you’re already so fucking worked up? You want to cum that badly?”

You nod wordlessly, not quite ready for Mingyu to hear the desperate whine that would surely leave your lips as he continues pressing wet kisses along your skin. You opt to simply thread your fingers in his hair and tug hard enough to show your impatience. It seems to trigger something in him; all in an instant, your best friend’s soft lips clash against your own, his tongue easily sliding into your mouth, all the while while his hand reaches down to grab one of your thighs. He squeezes it teasingly before pushing it outwards, which causes the mini skirt you’re wearing to bunch up around your waist, revealing your panties and how they cling to your pussy like a second skin. 

“M-mingyu!” you squeak into his lips when you feel his fingers tentatively rub small circles into the wet spot. He nips at your lip harshly as he starts to rub more deliberately, the flimsy fabric of your underwear creating a delicious friction against your clit. “H-hah! Yes, o-oh my god!” 

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, baby girl,” he chuckles, but he knows he isn’t one to talk while his cock is half hard just from hearing the way you moan his name. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You’re not leaving this room until your little pussy cums nice and hard on my cock.” 

“Ngh!-- yes p-please! Please, Mingyu,” you beg mindlessly. Your eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration. Despite your best friend’s promises, you are still hesitant to hold out any hope for anything more than what you’re accustomed to, so you try to take as much as you can while it lasts. However, in your lustful daze, you had forgotten that if Kim Mingyu is anything, he is a man of his word. 

 You let out a high-pitched moan when his fingers suddenly grind harsh circles into your clit, more surprised than anything else that he even knew where to find it. “But first,” he says, licking his lips, “you’re going to be a good girl and cum just like this. Right into your filthy little panties. Can you do that for me, baby?” 

He takes your drawn out whine as a response, and continues to rub relentlessly over your hardened clit until your legs begin to shake. That’s when he shoves the soaked material of your underwear to the side and pinches the bud. Hard. 

He rolls your clit between the pads of his fingertips over and over, sending jolts of electric pleasure all the way to your toes. It causes them to curl, all the while you feel the heat simmering in your lower abdomen finally coil tighter and tighter. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you chant, the words coming out slurred like you’re a teenager who’s gotten drunk from one sip of champagne. “M-mingyu-- mmh! I t-think I’m going to--!” 

A loud cry leaves your lips the moment the coil snaps, and you nearly tear up from how much better it feels to finally cum on someone else’s fingers, especially Mingyu’s long, thick digits.  He soothingly slides them through your drenched folds, mesmerized by how much wetness now covered his hand. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages. Once your body slumps back into the mattress, he brings his fingers up to see how they glisten in the light. “We’ve barely even started and look at what the mess you’ve already made. You must have been waiting so long for me to fuck you, huh?” 

Not even your post-orgasm buzz can keep you from getting irked by Mingyu’s cockiness, which is why you reach your own hand down to squeeze his cock through his jeans. “Seems like I’m not the only one who’s been waiting for this,” you say with a sly grin of your own. He watches you, jaw clenched, as you swiftly pop the button of his pants open and slip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear to take hold of his fully hardened member. 

It feels warm and heavy in your palm, which can barely wrap around the girth. You bite your lip, your pussy greedily clenching around nothing at the thought of how good it would stretch you out.

“I should have known you’d be a fucking tease,” Mingyu rasps. His hips buck into your hand involuntarily, and his smile returns when he notices how the movement makes you whimper in anticipation. 

There is a beat of silence when you and Mingyu meet eyes before the both of you begin undressing each other as fast as you can, haphazardly tugging off both your shirts, his pants, and your pesky undergarments. Once he’s tossed aside your soiled panties, he immediately presses your thighs apart to get a full view of your sopping cunt. “So pretty,” he mumbles to himself, spreading the lips apart with his fingers. His member throbs at the sight, the tip leaking precum when he sees how your pussy clenches in anticipation. “I bet it’s going to look even prettier when it’s taking my fat cock, don’t you think?”

The two of you watch in awe as Mingyu starts to sink into your entrance, a garbled moan leaving your lips when the tip alone already has you feeling so full. “Mingyu, h-how is-- ooh!-- your d-dick soo-- f-fucking big? A-Ah!” It takes a good while for you to finish your sentence as each of Mingyu’s shallow thrusts leave you gasping for air. By the time he bottoms out, the both of you are panting hard, both engrossed by how snugly his cock fits in your walls. 

“Shit, if I had known you’d be this tight, I would have fucked you sooner,” Mingyu groans. He slowly drags his member out of you, letting you feel every inch of him before he surges forward into a feverish pace that already has his bed frame creaking loudly. He is definitely getting a noise complaint from his grumpy neighbors tonight. But seeing you underneath him like this, lips parted and legs spread, definitely makes it difficult to care about anything other than the desire to hear more of your needy cries. “Does it feel good, baby girl? Do you like how my cock fills your little pussy?”

“It fuh--!--ngh, feels s-soo good,” Having already came once, your sensitivity is on overload, and each rough thrust of Mingyu’s hips, each crude slap of his skin against yours, is enough to drive you closer and closer to delirium. “Mmh-- please, Mingyu! F-fuck me so deep!”

“Anything for my little cockslut.” He moves quickly to kneel between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your knees to keep them open as he continues to pound into you. The new position instantly makes you keen loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel his member brush against your cervix. 

“Fuuuuck,” you sob and clutch at the sheets. His grip on your legs tightens and he angles his hips so that he hits that spot every time, rendering you completely incoherent. You want to beg him to fuck you like this forever, to tell him you’d do anything to feel his cock fuck you open every night, but you can only babble, unable to comprehend anything that isn’t the insatiable thirst burning within you.

“Damn baby, did I fuck you stupid?” Seeing you so drunk on his cock, he wonders how anyone could ever fuck you without wanting to see you cum over and over again. His hair falls over his eyes as he fucks up into you with renewed vigor, his hot skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. He grits his teeth when he feels how tightly your walls grip onto him.“Shit-- you must want me to make you cum again, baby girl. Your little pussy just keeps sucking me in.”

“H-hah, y-yes! Yes, please god, Mingyu, I want to c-cum again. P-please let me cum,” you beg, practically writhing as you pathetically attempt to meet his thrusts. Without any hesitation, Mingyu brings down his thumb and presses it into your swollen clit, causing your body to seize up suddenly. “A-Aah Mingyu! I’m--!” The intensity of your orgasm has your back arching off the mattress, head thrown back in a silent scream. Wave after wave of pleasure continuously washes over you, seemingly unending, unlike any orgasm you ever thought possible. 

“That’s right baby girl, get my cock nice and wet,” Mingyu growls. He fucks you through your release as he sloppily chases his own, not too far behind with how your walls are pulsing around him. He makes sure his cock is deep inside you and stills his hips when fills you with his hot cum. “Fuck, this pussy was fucking made for me.”

Just as you think you’ve finally come down from your high, he pulls out of you and he shifts to lower himself to place his mouth on your spent pussy. “M-mingyu!” 

You squirm and half-heartedly try to shove his head away, far too sensitive to have his tongue licking into your leaking entrance, but Mingyu is persistent. He pushes your legs to your chest to keep you from squeezing them close, and hums when he tastes the hot mixture of your and his own cum on his lips. The way he slurps and sucks at your folds is absolutely sinful as he eats you out like you’re the most delectable treat. It almost hurts to feel so much ecstasy at once, but it still leaves you mewling for more, unable to get enough of the boy.

Your third orgasm ripples over you when he suddenly scrapes his teeth over your abused clit, and you feel a tear slide down your cheek as you weakly shake against his mouth. 

Mingyu is smiling when he pulls away, looking slightly ridiculous with how his lips still glisten with cum. You tiredly slump back into his pillows, eyes already drooping close. “What is it?”

“I told you I could do it~” he says proudly. He goes to grab some tissues from the bedside table so that he could start cleaning you up, giggling all the while. It really is unfair how he could look so cute moments after railing you into another dimension. 

You groan. You’re never going to hear the end of this.

[jypbae7]

Could you do a breakdown natal chart for Kun from Wayv?

QIAN KUN - NATAL CHART

Kun was one the most requested I got which was a pleasant surprise!!❤️❤️

(Not claiming to be an expert this is just for fun please don’t take anything too seriously!) Hope this is helpful and that you enjoy it 🥰❤️

Personality: Capricorn Sun, Leo Rising, Taurus Moon, Capricorn Mercury, Capricorn Mars

Clearly a LOT of Earth sign placements but nicely broken up by the fire sign rising

Capricorn Sun has serious and long term plans for the kind of future they want for themselves and once they set out for it they seldom give up. Stubborn to a fault, but also consistent enough to actually persevere. They want the perfect job, reputation, partner, house, family, etc.

Leo rising is a bright, warm and outgoing personality. Lots of energy, creativity and flair. They enjoy having a strong core of friends that they feel understand and enhance their experience and effect on the world. Leo’s are known for being hardworking and as a fixed sign it offers a lot of consistency and determination. They are extremely devoted and loyal once they develop a bond and trust with someone. Though the passion can fizzle out quickly if they aren’t feeling the kind of attention and passion they want.

Taurus Moon is a very grounded person with more social charisma and approachability than Capricorns are known for. They also have a tendency to like bold styles, they have big dreams and goals and you’ll be surprised at how well they can attain them if they’re focused enough (Kun is a Capricorn Stellium so yes this boy KNOWS how to get shit done when it needs to be done) Taurus is also a fixed sign which along with the stubbornness everyone knows about also comes with patience and consistency making them really good leaders when added with their natural friendliness and perseverance

Capricorn Mercury indicates a strong preference for structure, somebody who tends to follow rules and feels uncomfortable breaking them. They tend to have authoritative energy and demeanor. Big ambitions and determination to succeed and excel in their chosen career. Spend more time thinking than they show with a generally very logical mind which can sometimes lead to a black & white perspective

Capricorn Mars - responsible, organized, secretly a thrill seeker, can come off as aloof or guarded when they are around new people or people who they really want to make a good impression on.

Relationships:

Non-Romantic Relationships: Capricorn Sun, Taurus Moon, Leo Rising, Capricorn Mercury, Capricorn Mars

Trustworthy and dependable - the “dad” of the friend group who everyone calls when they have something serious to deal with

Platonic love languages: acts of service and quality time - he loves spending time with people with shared interests especially music. Also loves going out to different places such as different trendy cafes, movie theaters, museums - you name it.

Likes other thrill seekers who push and motivate him to get out of his comfort zone

Sense of humor is a lot more childlike and playful than one would expect from his serious and strict side

Capricorn energy is NOT to be crossed or messed with. These are the ones who are calm af and calculated when angry - this is when you know you are screwed. When Capricorn is calm and collected while enraged, ohhh boy, do they figure out ways to hurt you in the smoothest and most effective ways without so much as lifting their finger. Spare yourself the trauma and DO NOT LIE to him no matter what.

Romantic relationships and preferences : Aquarius Venus, Capricorn Mars, Capricorn Juno, Aries Eros

Aquarius Venus is outgoing, friendly and charismatic. They are attracted to interesting and unique people who stand out of the crowd. They like bold and spontaneous gestures and they will do them back for their partner as well.

Aquarians also dislike overly clingy/needy partners which Capricorn also isn’t a fan of either. These signs are all about independence, individuality, personal expression and achievement. Meaning that while they do yearn for a partner (especially Capricorn placements) they want a partner who is self sufficient and independent with their own hobbies, careers, dreams, goals, etc.

Capricorn Juno implies they’ll be a tough to nail down for very long because Capricorn wants only the best of everything and they’re always busy trying to excel at things and scoping out their options. So you’ll have to prove your worth to them before they are willing to commit because once they do it’s for the long haul

Capricorn likes natural ethereal beauty while Aquarius likes the bold - my guess is healthy mix of both. Natural looking and soft featured with some bold/unique traits like bright/bold hair or fashion style, a bit of spice/sass here and there is another secret pleasure

Be prepared for endless serenades and songs made and sent to you like love letters - whether he’s singing or composing a warm ethereal instrumental for you, his whole heart is in it

Love languages (most to least) - words of affirmation, gift giving, physical touch and quality time

Words of affirmation makes him feel really wanted and needed, he’s also really really good at giving it out to people he loves so if he’s doing it one sidedly it would hurt him and make him feel insecure.

Gives either unbelievably beautiful luxe gifts or unique/fun gifts and loves to surprise his partner with them often especially after time apart

Capricorns HATE wasting time they are hyper aware of how many hours in a day and how much can be done in a day. So, if he’s spending a lot of time with you, you’re very very special and important to him and he prioritizes this time very highly

Star gazing dates, beach dates, camping trips - this man will go out of his way to make sure every date is an experience. He is PREPARED, he has an itinerary in his mind, he’s looked up the travel routes and picked the best one. When you go camping he will FLEX with his efficiency and ability to handle the labor heavy tasks. This man will purposely wait till you’re looking to start chopping wood (not that ANYONE is complaining), put the tent up and have it filled with blankets and pillows galore in 2.00034 seconds because he practiced in the dorm living room with the others like a drill routine. (Lucas taught him how to chop the wood & still look hot while doing it)

Is the MOST polite and endearing person to your family and friends. Goes above and beyond to be the perfect partner around your family and they are unable not to LOVE him. Is especially soft and doting of any children or elderly relatives. And none of it is phony at all, he doesn’t know anyway else to even think. Respect, manners, and family are extremely important to Earth signs. They’ll probably end up liking him more than you but honestly you can’t even blame them

(None of y’all ungrateful people better ever slack on Zaddy Kun’s visuals ever again!! If I don’t get to see his happy trail during 2021 I’m burning the SM building down once and for all)

18+ Preferences:

Aries Eros ooof - passionate, possessive and steamy. Pick their partners off instinct and energy - once they really like you they become infatuated and want to STAY that way. If it’s not the “I need you so fucking bad I’m gonna lose my mind” type of love they DON’T want it.

Leo Rising is a possessive as fuck placement thankfully when they get riled up or jealous they have the confidence not to get angry with you or insecure about it. BUT.... you‘ll still be awakening a whole new type of beast and quite frankly he will let you know that it’s all your fault as he holds you down and uses you like the stupid toy you are till you remember who you belong to

If he sees you doing anything even remotely domestic his Taurus Moon and Capricorn Juno will have his mind go from soft and warm thoughts to bending you over the kitchen counter and taking you right there without a care or second thought spared

Positions where he feels in in control are his favorite - he likes being on top of you, behind you and if he can pick you up and carry you while ramming into you best believe he will.

His favorite is position is missionary - likes to feel big and dominant he also wants to be able to see as much of you as possible and kissing you as much as possible from your lips to just about anywhere else he can reach. Will be staring at you 99% of the time with big smoldering eyes that don’t waver in the slightest. In fact if you give him eye contact back he’ll just be even more turned on

Now...this might be controversial but... Capricorn Mars usually suggests power play/dynamic kink - think rich powerful CEO who secretly fantasizes about being tied up and blindfolded. Not to say that is exclusively his main kink bc it’s definitely not, he is 100% mostly dom BUT with the right person he’d be more than willing and very excited to try it out - probably because they are always in control so it’s an adrenaline rush for them to relinquish it to someone else. Doesn’t necessarily mean an extreme level of being submissive even just simple restraints can feel very extreme for a bossy and in-control Capricorn

Aquarius Venus also likes breaking relationship “norms” and trying out new things. They are super fun and bright when happy so when he’s in love he’s in LOVE. Wants to sing about it 24/7 but is too stubborn to be clingy or needy. The type to smile during sex, especially when he’s on top of you or drunk. Don’t even get me started on drunk handsy Kun whining in your ear about how he just wants to sneak out of the party early.....bc I will genuinely never recover

Very vocal in the bedroom - gives his partner tons of praise. Completely loses his mind and is loud af when you kiss your way from his neck down to below the hips

Most of the time sex with him is more passionate than kinky, not lightening fast jack rabbit thrusts instead hard and deep rhythmic ones that make your whole body shake - Hungry makeout sessions, sneaky little hickeys where no one else will see, massages than turn into hours of love making, takes his time to hit deep and hard inside you, handfuls of your hair, gaspy whispers

When he is feeling more kinky it’s usually spur of the moment. In the car in the middle of a rainy night during a cancelled schedule or after an especially steamy date night where he decides to take you to a hotel afterwards

KING OF AFTER CARE (NOT up for debate) - cooks you an amazing meal afterwords or orders up a feast if he’s too spent to get up too, cuddled up in blankets watching a movie for the rest of the night afterwards.

[forthehpfanboys]

Intact

Pair: George Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Life goes to hell when your mother, who happens to be Bellatrix LeStrange AND a Death Eater, finds out you joined the Order of the Phoenix with your boyfriend. 

Warnings: Swearing, child abuse?, I guess it's more like assault? Dark, probably graphic?? 

Notes: 100/10 on this one. Honestly it was fun to write-

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

You knew the moment you stepped into the house she knew and it wasn’t a good thing. The house was borderline destroyed from the glass shattered on the floor from the ‘family portrait’ on the floor to the burn marks across walls. Your shoes crunched as you walked across the remains of the crystal chandler that's been in the house for generations. You entered the living room and was immediately struck with a spell that had your black slamming into the wall. 

"You rat! You sniveling, useless, pathetic little rodent!” Her hoarse voice revealed how long she’d been screaming. She kicked the coffee table in the center of the room off to the side. “I should've known!" your mother screamed, her wand tightening in her hand. Her arm stayed stretched out, showing her lack of hesitance and empathy toward you. "You were always so ungrateful! So unbelievably selfish!" You held your head in your hands. A headache was throbbing beside your temples- you must've really hit your head on the wall- and her screaming was not helping it out at all. Her yells echoed in the house, almost shaking the shattered windows of the living room.

"What are you going on about?" you asked, finally raising your head to look at her. Her makeup was messy, her hair was an actual rats nest and her eyes were darker than you've ever seen. She looked insane, more so than usual.

"Don't act like you don't know! You betrayed the Dark Lord for that.. That boy!" Bellatrix screeched out, making long steps across the shard covered carpet to corner you. "Honestly! A Weasley, (Y/n)! A blimey, no good for nothing blood traitor! I raised you better than that!"

You stared at her with wide eyes. She knew. Oh, of course she knew who you were sneaking out almost every night to see! She probably found out herself or maybe Draco tattled, that coward. It didn’t matter how she knew, she knew you were with a Weasley, sneaking out almost every night to see him, the other Weasleys and the Order. 

"Raised me? I'm sorry, raised me?!" You genuinely had to laugh at that. "You can not take credit for how I came out! You didn't raise me!  No, no even close! You dropped me off at the Malfoys like a stray dog.” You didn’t even flinch when she jabbed her wand right under your chin, a sneer growing on her features. 

You tried to ignore how much it hurt to be ditched by your own mother, forced to swivel and basically praise the Malfoys for taking in someone like you. You were nothing compared to Draco. Everyone wanted a compliant son like Draco, but no, you had to be different, see your mother for how she really was. You could remember when she showed up one random day after graduating your 4th year, claiming she loved you, missed you, how times got too tough to have a baby boy around the house. The thought now made you sick. She didn’t care about you for fourteen years, but suddenly she does. Since then, life has been hell. Except around George. 

“I should’ve left you on the streets.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she grabbed your shoulder. Her unusually sharp nails seemed to phase right through your shirt. “I should’ve drowned you in a river, I should’ve given you to the Dark Lord himself.” Her nails dug deeper into your skin, puncturing it, leading to small droplets of red to seep into the cotton of your shirt. Your pain must’ve made itself known because she smirked and tossed her head back in loud laughter that made your temples throb again. “I should’ve killed you myself.” She pulled away from you, stepping back a few paces before turning swiftly to face you once again. She did a curtsy, not taking her eyes off you. 

“Clearly, there’s a lot we both should’ve done.” Your voice cracked as you pulled out your own wand from your pocket, holding it tightly. You stepped forward a few spaces and bowed, understanding what she wanted. She wanted you to suffer. She casted a spell before you could even blink, her laugh echoed in the house again.

“Crucio!” 

Your body slammed against the wall a second time, except this time, it felt like your heart was actually going to stop. It felt like every nerve was being ripped in half one by one, like you were being burned alive but drowning in an icy river at the same time. You physically couldn’t stop the scream of pure agony that ripped from your throat. 

You crashed to the floor as your muscles tensed up. The spell lifted before another scream could fly from your lips, giving your now aching muscles a break. You curled into a tight  ball, your knees to your chest, as your.. ‘Mother’ let out yet another cackling laugh. Honestly, you weren’t sure she ever stopped.

“What’s wrong, (Y/n)? Too much for you? Maybe I should just call you Weasley. You’re just as pathetic and dimwitted as they are.” She giggled, bouncing on her feet, before doing a spin. “Oh, I do love your scream though.” 

You were trying to blink through the tears and ignore the way your gut was twisting itself up. You officially envied anyone who said crap about Longbottom's parents- they didn’t deserve this. Through the tears, your eyes landed on your wand, just in arms reach. With a shaky, weak hand, you reached for it, an equally shaky breath leaving your lips when your fingertips grazed across the wood. It was so close. that was, until a heal came to rest into the back of your hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my insane rambling is too boring for you, is it?” Bellatrix spat out. She lowered herself onto one knee, putting testing her weight against the bones in your skin. You sucked in a breath, your eyes squinting shut. While she was down there, she decided to go on a tangent on how her life was so difficult, how she couldn’t have her love with her, whoever the fuck that was, and how she was a good mother. 

“You’re such a bitch.” You whispered out. While the witch was so worried about your hand and spitting all over your face with her sob story, you’d managed to grab your wand. You threw a punch, right to her crooked grin. The punch wasn’t your strongest, but it gave you enough leeway to wiggle your hand free and aim your wand at her, casting stupefy to throw her back. Before she could do anything else, you booked it out the door, running as fast as you could. You didn’t look behind you when she started screaming again.

“Ingrate! Go run off to those pathetic blood-traitors! You deserve to be with your own kind! A bunch of filthy low-lives!” 

You rounded the corner and apparated to where you knew they would be, where you’d be safe. With a crisp pop, you were in front of the door of none other than Sirius’ Black’s home. You didn’t bother knocking, you didn’t need too. You stumbled into the house, effectively cutting off everyone’s casual conversation in the living room. You ignored Molly’s gentle calls and Remus trying to see if you were ok. You just sprinted up the stairs, calling for your boyfriend. 

You didn’t even realize you were crying until your body collided with George’s, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist while the other went straight to your hair. He rocked your back and forth, his voice whispering everything was going to be ok in your ear. You didn’t even notice the crowd forming behind you.

“Cupcake, I’m going to need you to tell me what happened, ok?” He gently pulled you from his chest, his hands cupping your wet cheeks to wipe away your tears.

“She knows. Someone told her- or- or she followed us but she knows and-” You took in a shaky breath, being gently dragged back into a hug by the ginger. You couldn’t see it, but George, while never usually one to jump to violence, was close to throwing hands.

“LeStrange?” He asked, wanting clarification over who the ‘she’ actually was. When you nodded into his chest, his arms tightened around you. “Ok,’ he whispered, “ok, how about we go assess the damage, hmm?” He guided you down the hall, ignoring the questions about what happened, and taking you straight to the clean bathroom. 

George shut the door once you were sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He wasn’t quite sure if he was more heartbroken over the fact that you were shaking, struggling to breath and bouncing your leg rapidly or pissed that she dared to lay a hand on you. He knelt in front of you, a sad smile across his lips as he rubbed your knees. “What did she do, love?” 

You told him about the wrecked house, the yelling, the headache, the tiny scabs on your shoulder and how she fucking stood on your hand. You left out the curse, worried he’d actually go over there himself and hex the daylights out of her. No one would admit it but any Weasley could easily go from lovable dorks to murderous slayers in 3.4 seconds if provoked correctly. 

“Can I see your shoulder? I want to make sure it won’t get infected with whatever she carries.” His fingers gently pulled at the hem of your shirt, his eyes staring into yours as he waited for your approval. You suddenly found it hard to speak. He wasn’t gentle all the time, but when he was, it always stole your breath. 

When you finally nodded and raised your arms, he slipped your shirt over your head. The fabric slipped from his grasp as he stared at your bare chest, shoulders and arms. You could see every emotion flickering past his irises- worry, sadness, anger. 

“What?” You followed his gaze. Along your chest, stomach and shoulders, a bright red pattern of welts had formed. How you didn’t notice, you weren’t sure, but now that you were looking at them, they started throbbing. The marks seemed to mimic lightning bolts, but rounder, breaking apart and covering your body, but they all started at one spot. An angry lopsided organic shape stood out below your right peck, just on your rib cage- that was where the spell hit. The marks didn’t stop at your shoulders, or your neck. They traveled down to your very fingertips and a few made themselves known just along your jaw and across your cheek.

“(Y/n),” His use of your first name unnerved you, “what aren’t you telling me?” George’s hand reached out to gently touch where the bitch’s spell hit you while his eyes flicked up to yours. You stayed quiet, your chest shaking as you took in another nervous breath. You licked your lips, thinking over your next words carefully.

“She may have used the Cruciatus Curse on me.” You looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers. You heard him take a sharp breath. He whispered a quick ‘can you give me a moment?’ before walking out of the bathroom. You heard his heavy footsteps travel down the hall before a door slammed open, rattling the mirror hanging on the bathroom wall. 

“Freddie, I’m going to fucking lose it!” George’s voice carried easily through the hallway, causing you to jump. “No, I will not calm down! Shut up and listen!” The younger twin never spoke to his brother like that. “The crucio curse, Fred! The fucking, the, you know! For- I swear-” The door to the shared room slammed shut, the rattling mirror doing it’s thing again as you sat awkwardly in the bathroom alone. George kept going on and on about stuff you could no longer make out, but you could assume they were death threats sworn to come true.

After about 2 minutes, George came back, Fred trailing right behind him, a baggy Irish themed quidditch shirt and a pair of red sweatpants in his arms. George set the clothes down while Fred looked at the marks. 

“Bloody hell.” Fred sat down next to you. “Do they still hurt?” He let out a sigh of relief when you shook your head no. “Thank Merlin for that.” 

While Fred was chatting away, George had knelt in front of you again, his hand on the ball joint of your shoulder, his wand in his other hand. He whispered a quick healing curse on the five scabs before handing you the Irish t-shirt. 

“You ok?” George asked once the shirt was on. His hands had come back to your knees at some point and you weren’t quite sure when, but you appreciated the familiar warmth. 

“I don’t know. “ Your eyes were cast downward at the marks across your forearms and wrist, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I… Don’t you think they’re.. Meeeh?” You raised your arms a little, referring to the scars. 

“Really?” The red-head trouble makers asked in unison, causing you to turn between them a few times. 

“What?” 

“Sunshine.” George spoke up from the floor, his hands twiddling together as he got your attention. He smiled a little when your eyes looked down into his. “Remember Umbridge?”

“Of course I do. I was there- I left with you guys-”

“Hush, I’m trying to be inspirational.” His words cause you to grin and snort. “Well, then you must remember the quill.” He brought his hand into your view, showing what he thought was oh so important he told you to hush. The scars from the quill were still there, only faded, but still extra pale against his normal tone. “You could hardly see ours anymore, love.”

You reached out for his hand hesitating, but in the end, you were running your fingers across the skin, noting the change in textures. You turned to Fred, who flashed you the same grin and held his hand up, revealing the same scars. 

“Right..” You smiled, turning back to the twin you called yours. “They fade but-”

“-let you tell stories that strengthen you.” The twins finished, a wider smile on both of their faces. Fred stood up, ruffling your hair before heading out of the bathroom. George stood up after handing you the sweats. 

“I’ll let you get dressed here, cupcake. Come on back to the room whenever you're ready.” George planted a kiss to your cheek before planting one swift one to your lips and heading out of the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.

“What would Molly say?” You asked, changing your pants and confirming the scars did run down to your ankles.

“After what you went through? She wouldn’t have the heart to make you stay anywhere else.” George called through the door before walking down the hallway to his room. You splashed some cold water on your face, hoping to wash away some of the trauma today would leave behind. 

Once your face was dry, you walked from the bathroom, to the shared room with the twins. You didn’t bother knocking once again, knowing you were more welcomed here than anywhere else. You plopped yourself on the bed, besides your boyfriend and snuggled into his side. Sure today would leave scars, mental and physical, but as George’s arms wrapped around you, you realized he was all you would need to stay intact in the end. 

And yeah, George did keep his promise for revenge in the end.

[buckysgoldenheart]

Late

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry has a reputation that makes you cautious and it’s caused some disagreements. Everyone thinks you hate each other, but maybe you don’t as much as you let on. (fluffy ending, and idk, maybe angst depending on your definition).

Words: 2880

Notes/Warnings: I made this like mid-20s Henry during the Tudors filming, season 1. If I messed up with tenses somewhere, I’d like it of you let me know. I started this story out in the past-tense then changed it to present so I might have missed some stuff when editing, even after reading it 100 times over.

At the sound of the doorbell, you hop up from your sunken spot on the couch. After the day you had, the Chinese food on the other side of that wood slab is the only thing with the ability to help you recover before you must face a fresh 5 a.m. morning with Henry tomorrow.

God, you want that man to fall off the face of the earth. You don’t care if his disappearance meant you would temporarily be out of a job. Being an assistant on the set of The Tudors was something you had strongly considered sacrificing in the past if it meant never having to work with one very particular, blue-eyed, temperamental actor ever again.

You almost quit weeks ago but told yourself to suck it up. You can’t afford to unintentionally cause drama at your workplace, not after your last job; and getting that kind of reputation is not what you are going for. Besides, filming for the first season is almost over, and you will gladly welcome the long break before everyone needs to report back for season two.

The smile you were fully prepared to give the delivery man falls entirely at the sight on the other side of the door.

“What the hell are you doing here,” You huff out.

Henry crosses his thick arms over his even thicker chest and frowns back at you. “I didn’t get my script.”

A headache is already forming just from his proximity and you don’t bother resisting the urge to rub at your temple. “Well, I sent it to your house a week ago.”

“And I didn’t get it, so clearly you didn’t do a very good job.”

With an eye-roll, you say, “Is there some reason you had to come all the way to my apartment and bug me for the script when I will see you first thing in the morning?”

“Everyone else will have had theirs longer, and I wanted to get a good start on learning my lines, so yes, I have a good reason for ‘bugging’ you, Y/N.”

You hate the way he says your name. It passes his lips so softly every time and makes your heart speed faster than your liking. If another man said your name like that, you’d fall for him in an instant, but no, Henry seemed to be the only man possessing that thick, honey-sweet voice.

“Whatever,” You groan and turn on your heel. In your office desk are two extra copies of each actors’ script for emergencies, but a simple text from Henry would’ve sufficed; this is hardly life or death.

‘Hey, never got my script. Can you bring a copy in the morning?’ So damn easy.

You turn your head back when Henry’s heavy footsteps hit your hardwood floors. “Hey, I didn’t say you could come in,” You snap, eyebrows drawn together.

“What kind of person would leave their guest outside?”

The sass in his tone makes you want to pull your hair right out of your scalp. “You’re not my guest,” You say, but your blatant aggravation does nothing to hinder him and his body is a foot away from yours before you know it. Inches he has on you forces you to look up just to meet the smirk on his face.

“Stop acting like you hate me,” He says as he reaches a hand to grab yours.

“Excuse me?!” You quickly swat that hand away. “I am not acting like anything! Any negative feelings you are sensing from me are one hundred percent genuine.”

Henry scoffs and crosses his arms once again. “Oh, please.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. He is unbelievable. Everything he does, everything he says, everything he is has had the power to make your whole body shake since the day you met him. “God, I can’t stand you!”

Walking away from him for the office, he follows close behind. “You know what, you’re not all that great either!” He yells at your back as you open the drawer of your desk to shuffle through the scripts. “You yap all damn day, talking to everyone else on set and making them laugh! You shoot that pretty smile in any direction and people flock to you like deranged birds!”

“So!” You pull out the script and hand it to Henry. Without giving it a glance, he snatches it from you and tosses it back on the oak wood surface of the desk.

“So? You’re distracting them from their jobs! We could probably get things done twice as fast if you weren’t around!”

“That’s—”

“And you are annoyingly beautiful!” He harshly interrupts. “Annoyingly! The men we work with will not shut up about it and I’m sick of listening to them talk about you the way they do! I end up hearing your name more times in a day than I hear my own, and I get called upon every five seconds! I’m practically forced to think about you!”

You blink at the increase in volume that makes the thin walls of your home quiver.

“I don’t know how many times your face manages to flash in my mind in the course of a week, but it’s starting to get to me!”

Your hands rise in disbelief before they slap back down to your sides. “That’s not my fault! But you’re one to talk! You’re well aware you’re ridiculously, unnaturally hot, and I fucking hate it! The women we work with won’t shut up about you. And you think I’m annoying? Imagine being surrounded by a pack of idiots that go on and on about how amazing you are, when the truth is, you’re so arrogant I can’t stand to be within two feet of you!”

When you try to walk past him, his hand wraps tightly around your upper arm. “Hey!”

“Leave me alone! I hate you!” You snarl at the rage in his eyes and try to shake him off you.

“You don’t hate me.”

You glare up at him. “Oh no?”

He gapes at you, seemingly stunned you have the gall to challenge him. The grip on your arm loosens until you are free. Winding his fingers through his chocolate locks, Henry shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “You are so...”

“So what? So irritating? So infuriating?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“If I’m such a problem, then go.” Ignoring his words, you point a finger in the general direction of the nearest exit.

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Of course, I do!”

He quirks an eyebrow and cocks his head. “So you’re going to grab me with your tiny hands and throw me through the front door, is that right?”

“I can’t fucking lift you!” You yell.

“Then I’m staying!”

“I think you’re really not! You can’t just demand to stay here! That’s not how this works!”

“Why can’t you just—God damn it!” He stomps his way back into the living room, script forgotten, and reaches for the doorknob. You follow him and let out an exhausted breath of relief, but Henry whips around to you again before you have time to revel in the feeling. “You know what, no. I’m not going anywhere until we settle this bullshit between us. I’m not going to argue with you anymore. I’m not going to act like I dislike you. I’m not going to keep playing this game, because it’s clearly not getting me anywhere; in fact, it’s doing the opposite.”

“Getting you anywhere?” You mumble.

“This whole thing is fucking bullshit and I’m over it.” He swallows. “Tell me what I did.”

“What?”

“You keep saying you hate me but have never given me a reason, so what did I do?”

Your jaw drops. “Are you kidding? You were just telling me I suck at my job, yet at the same time you don’t think I have a reason to be mad. You glare at me during work, you act like I’m an inconvenience, you—”

“That’s not what I mean.” Henry grabs your hand, and for a reason you couldn’t place, you allow it this time. “At the beginning, when we met, what was it that caused a problem between us? I’ve gone over our first meeting in my head about a thousand times and cannot figure out how I upset you so much that you’re still mad after months.”

You slip your fingers out of his palm, looking to the floor.

“Please just tell me,” He begs. “Please, I--”

“You sleep with the women you work with.” You spit out.

When he stares at you in confusion, you wince and say, “I have this friend…kinda. She was an extra on Hellraiser and claimed that you slept with nearly every woman on set, herself included. When I told her I got this job she said you’d probably try to get in my pants if I wasn’t careful, and I’m not cautious enough about men as it is, so—”

“You were mad at me before we met for something I didn’t even do?” He isn’t angry or looking at you like you’ve lost your mind; more like he can’t believe that was all it was. As if he had a simple solution to the problem that planted its roots deep into the both of you months prior.

“Whether or not you did, it’s not like you’ve been an angel to me anyway,” You say.

“Because I fucking panic when someone I want doesn’t want me! And you’ve made it very clear that you do not want me! You always seem so angry and…and I’m not very smooth, ok!? I say shit I don’t mean!”

“So you do want to get in my pants?”

“No!” He says quickly, then after a beat, sighs. “Yes.”

You give no response, so he continues.

“I swear, despite how idiotic I have acted, I really like you, and I don’t know who your friend is or why she would tell you I slept with a bunch of women on set, but I didn’t.”

You have to look away from him. His eyes hold too much sincerity and all it does is confuse you. You have spent too much time pissed to feel comfortable with the idea that it was potentially all for no reason, so you hug your arms across your middle and take a step back from him.

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.”

You shake your head. “I can’t right now.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s late, Henry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You won’t meet his stare but can see from your peripherals his head slowly nod. You don’t look up until your front door closes softly behind him.

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

You spend the earliest hours of the next morning sipping coffee before everyone else arrives for work, wondering if the night before actually happened or if it had just been a very realistic messy mix of a dream and a nightmare.

The sun rises and you watch as it ascends each inch until it’s planted high enough in the sky to warm your skin. He’d be here soon, looking for you, wanting answers for any questions you hadn’t given him the chance to ask.

So, what, he likes me now? He wants me? You can’t wrap your head around it. But you suppose it makes as much sense as you saying you hate him when really what you’ve been is nervous. You don’t want to be used again by some man with more power than you. Pulling yourself out of that hole was hard enough and you have no desire to trip and fall right back in.

“Y/N. You’re here early.”

You jump at the first voice to interrupt the peaceful silence. It was the last moment you’ll have to yourself for the next fifteen hours at least.

Turning your head, you smile at your boss. “Morning, Em.”

“Henry’s here early, too,” She says. “He asked me to let him know when you came in, but seeing as you’re already here, you think you could just head to his trailer now?”

No, you want to say. I’m not ready. “Sure.” You half-heartedly smile, dumping the last of your coffee in the nearest trash can.

Each crunchy step along the gravel to Henry’s trailer feels less sturdy than the one before. Though, he isn’t in his trailer when you find him, but standing out in a grassy patch, throwing a ball to Em’s dog, Leo. It makes your heart pump hard to see him so casually soft. It’s the first time you are looking at him when his eyes aren’t already on you.

Leo loyally returns the ball to Henry three more times before you gather the nerve to step up to his side.

“Em said you wanted to see me.”

You notice him hold in a breath when he registers your voice, then tossing the ball once more, he says, “I’d have gone looking for you myself if I knew you were here.”

You nod, but you’ve yet to look at one another.

“The makeup artists are gonna have a blast today trying to make me look decent,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t sleep all night. I spent it trying to figure out what to say to you but came up short.”

You scratch behind Leo’s large ears when he nudges your legs with his head. Henry gently grins, though you don’t see it. You shrug. “At least you don’t have as many scenes today.”

Henry chuckles. “That’s true.”

“I couldn’t think of anything to say to you either,” You say.

A moment passes as he blows out a deep sigh.

“Y/N…I don’t want to act like it didn’t happen. I know that’s what is easiest, but I meant what I said. The good parts, not the shit about you sucking at your job. You’re the best at your job.”

Finally meeting his eyes, the corners of your lips curve up just a bit.

“But I don’t expect you to feel the same about me.”

“Henry…”

He shakes his head and throws the ball for Leo after the pups persistent whimpering. “I’m not going to make things hard for you. Filming is almost over anyway and if you want, I’ll try to bother you as little as I can. I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, it’s just…you like everyone around here except me, but I’ve liked you more than anyone else since the moment we met. It’s no excuse--”

“It’s ok.”

He looks at you. “It’s not.”

“It is.” Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm. He stares at the touch you give him as you continue. “I didn’t have a good reason for treating you like I hate you, not really.”

“So, you don’t…hate me?”

“…No.” You look away in shame. “And I have a better explanation for that.”

He blinks, clearly relieved that every horrible thing he figured you felt for him was not, in your heart, the truth. “You don’t owe me one.”

“I slept with my boss once,” You rush out. “And, um…got the same warning as I did with you: sleeps with the other women he works with, will try to do the same with me. He did and I let him because I thought he liked me, but…no. All it did was make me feel like an idiot in the end.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I made a mistake.” You shrug. And suddenly, admitting that out loud, confiding in someone, knocks some of the painful gears in your head loose. You’d never told anyone the truth about your past. “Look, this is going to sound really odd but,” You swallow. “…Don’t stop bothering me.”

“Wait,” He turns his body fully to you. “What?”

Your lips thin, but then you smile, inch up on your toes, and go to kiss his cheek. All you wanted to do was provide a little reassurance, to let him know that you now forgive every misunderstanding between you, but the kiss lands a little too far to the right and covers the end of his mouth.

Immediately, you pull back a few centimeters and feel heat flushing your cheeks, but Henry tilts his head the slightest. He takes a breath, giving you a chance to pull back further, but when you make no move to abandon him, he connects your lips again.

It feels good. He feels good. So good it shocks you how much you don’t want it to end. And when you part your lips and his tongue touches yours, you can’t stop your hands from sliding up his chest before roping around his neck and tugging him closer. Only then does he greedily grab at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh through the fabric of your t-shirt.  

Leo’s bark separates you minutes later, though you’re reluctant to allow it. You glance at the dog, chuckling at his rapidly wagging tail as he watches the scene before him. But when you look back to Henry, his eyes are already glued to you, their hue a little brighter and a small smile on his face.

“I’ll bother you as much as you like,” He says and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear.

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

*reposted for tag testing reasons. 

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 11

WARNINGS: nothing I can think of 🤔

Chapter 11 - Theodora's Confession

“How is everyone? Are you nervous?” Angelina stood up from the bench in the Quidditch tent.

Theodora, Harry, and Katie nodded while Fred and George swung their hand as if it’s just another game.

“I’m nervous too, it’s okay!” Angelina smiled faintly.

That made Theodora feel better because ever since Angelina became captain after Oliver left, she had a feeling nothing could disturb Angelina from her calm composure. Apparently, playing the final game of the year did the trick.

“We might not be playing against Slytherin and we have beaten Hufflepuff plenty of time but for most of us this is the last Quidditch game.” Angelina looked at Katie, Fred, George, and Theodora.

“Harry, you’ll probably be captain next year.” She smiled gently at him but that didn’t make Harry’s nervousness disappear off his face.

“So, I am not going to make this long. We had a lot of practice matches in the past two weeks. It has been an honor to play with all of you. Truly, you are the best team a captain could ask for and I finally understand why Wood was so excited every time to play.” Angelina said with tears in her eyes.

“He was excited to play because all he can think and talk about is Quidditch.” Fred giggled.

“Also that, probably.” Angelina couldn’t fight back a chuckle.

“No matter what happens on that pitch today, know that I am proud of you and wish that we could play together some more.” Angelina took a deep breath, trying to appear strong in front of her team.

“We got this! It’s only Hufflepuff!” Fred threw his hands in the air.

“Are you lot ready to listen to Lee being on our side and thus get glared at by McGonagall one last time?” Angelina extended her arm and the rest put their hands over hers.

“We’re ready!” The whole team shouted.

They all turned their heads when Madam Hooch stepped inside their tent.

“The game is about to begin.” Her golden eyes sparkled with excitement.

Each of the team members took their broom and followed Madam Hooch out of the tent. The second they flew on the pitch, their ears were filled with Lee’s voice.

“Witches and wizards, teachers, heads of house, and Headmaster!” Lee shouted into his microphone. “Today is the last House Cup match of this school year. Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff and it’s going to be emotional!” Lee pretended to sob.

“Five members of the Gryffindor team are never going to be seen on this pitch again after today’s game. The same goes for three members of the Hufflepuff team! I bet you are all curious to see who will be taking their place next year!”

“Remember Madam Hooch’s whistle sound, seventh years, as you won’t be able to get to hear this amazing melody again!” Lee heard McGonagall sigh behind him while it sounded like Professor Flitwick was sobbing next to her.

“The game has begun! The Snitch is out, the Quaffle is in Theodora Cork’s hands and the Bludger is already searching for its first victim!” Lee clutched the microphone with excitement.

“And Cork scores! 10 – 0 for Gryffindor. Not really a surprise there! It’s a miracle this girl isn’t considering playing Quidditch professionally.” Lee shook his head.

He understood and supported his favorite Quidditch trio to open their own joke shop but he couldn’t help to think how amazing it would be if they all continued to play Quidditch. Perhaps, he wasn’t ready to let go of his current job as a commentator just yet.

“The game is getting intense and it seems it is not going to end any time soon! Maybe neither of the teams want it to end and we’re all going to be here for days!” Lee said excitedly.

It was now 100 – 70 for Hufflepuff and Harry still couldn’t spot the Snitch. The day was beautiful for their last Quidditch game of the year but the sun shining so brightly also didn’t help him to see where the golden ball could be.

“What’s this now? Did the Hufflepuff Seeker finally spot the Snitch? She is moving rather fast across the pitch. Harry, go check it out!” Lee waved his hand at Harry.

“Mr. Jordan, do I have to remind you to stay neutral for the last time?” Professor McGonagall put her hand on Lee’s shoulder and tried keeping her voice as gentle as possible.

Of course, she couldn’t deny she wanted Gryffindor to win the game but since Lee wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was on the side of his house, she had to step in.

“I apologize, professor, but this is our last game, the last time you are hearing my sweet voice.” Lee made puppy eyes at professor McGonagall who only sighed and sat back down.

She couldn’t hide a small smile painting her face. She knew very well this was their last game and no matter how many years she spent teaching, she always felt sad when another generation left the school.

“Both of the Seekers are now after the Snitch! It’s 100 – 90 for Hufflepuff and whoever gets that Snitch will win the game!” Lee yelled into the microphone more than ever before, now standing up and ready to jump if his house wins.

“Of course, I hope that Gryffindor wins! And Johnson scores! We have a tie!”

“Mr. Jordan, what did I say!” McGonagall leaned toward Lee again and raised her voice.

“My head of house is about to murder me with her stare...but I am simply too excited professor!” Lee forgot to put his hand over the microphone so everyone heard what he said.

Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick started laughing as they found his commentating amusing. Severus Snape, however, pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that the match is going to end soon.

“It seemed that the Chasers have stopped trying! This truly is an unbelievable sight. Both teams are now hovering on their brooms and letting the better Seeker win!” Lee was leaning over the fence of the commentator stand, trying to better see what is going to happen.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. The players of both teams just stopped – observing their Seekers – while the Beaters were flying around and trying to keep the Bludger as far away from anyone as possible.

“Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are making history today and to everyone watching this, you should know that you are very lucky to witness such an occurrence!”

Hufflepuff players were waving and smiling at the Gryffindors. The latter were doing the same and laughing at Lee’s commentary.

The Beaters of Hufflepuff’s team were passing the Bludgers to Fred and George, simply having too much fun.

“I think it’s safe to say that the real legend here is Madam Hooch as she isn’t doing anything to stop this game, non-game, whatever you want to call it at this point!” Lee was shaking, now sitting back down.

“Should we do something about this, Minerva?” Professor Sprout said to McGonagall who simply shook her head, her hand over her mouth to hide her smile.

“Potter flew past his opponent and is now flying after the golden ball with his left hand extended!” Lee stood up so abruptly that the microphone almost fell out of his hand.

“And...and Potter caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins 250 – 100! Look at the Hufflepuffs cheering for Potter and congratulating the rest of the team! No doubt they would be happier if they won the game but second place isn’t that bad either!” Lee cheered.

“Only Hufflepuffs can put their ego aside and show how the winners should be treated! Everybody roar for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team!” Lee roared into the microphone and the other stands followed his lead.

Professor Sprout cupped her mouth and cheered for her team then stood up and congratulated professor McGonagall for her team winning.

“This has been a pleasure everyone but sadly, I have to say goodbye. It has been an honor and I hope I didn’t damage your eardrums with all my shouting during the years. Thank you for cheering, for being the best, and thank you Professor McGonagall for not throwing me off the stand! My name is Lee Jordan and it’s time to party!”

McGonagall shook her head behind Lee and wholeheartedly laughed as she couldn’t deny that she will miss Lee’s inappropriate comments.

—

“Lee, mate, your commentary today was spectacular!” Fred hugged his friend over the shoulder.

“I knew McGonagall wouldn’t be able to do anything about it,” Lee chuckled, “if it was up to me, it would be like that every time.”

“It will be, once you have your own radio show.” George nudged him with his shoulder.

“And talk about the game, what in the bloody hell happened!” Lee laughed.

“We honestly don’t know. We were playing normally, Chasers trying to score, Beaters keeping everybody safe, the Keepers looking out for their hoops and then we all simultaneously stopped when we saw the Snitch.” Fred shrugged.

“That little ball was nowhere to be seen for such a long time!” George sighed.

“It was probably due to the sun.” Lee rubbed his chin.

“Yeah and then we all just watched. We had the same amount of points there was no point in playing, really.” Fred said excitedly.

“If you were playing against Slytherins that would not happen.”

“You can say that again, Lee.” George took a sip of his drink.

“George, is that boy hitting on our Theo?” Fred asked his brother while nodding his head to Theodora who was talking and laughing with a fellow Gryffindor on the other side of the common room.

“We’ll celebrate with you later, mate. We have to go and see what’s going on.” George lifted his glass and clanked it against Lee’s.

Lee nodded and kept his eyes on the twins until they reached Theodora. He then turned around, poured himself another glass of punch, and walked to Angelina and Katie.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” George put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, making him turn around.

“Theo, is this guy bothering you?” Fred asked his best friend.

“We’re just discussing the game, Fred.” Theodora rolled her eyes playfully knowing exactly what was coming.

Whenever Fred and George saw her talk to a boy they didn’t recognize, they went full-on protective mode and tried to get rid of him for her. It usually put her in an awkward position, especially if she fancied the boy.

“You can do that with us and you,” George turned from Theodora to a now annoyed Gryffindor, “can go discuss the game with someone else. She has a boyfriend.”

“What?” Theodora chortled. “I do not.”

“Do you want us to tell Bill you said that?” Fred gasped dramatically.

“Not this again.” Theodora rolled her eyes and crossed her hands on her chest.

“I’m sorry, they just get a bit overly protective but they are harmless.” Theodora tried explaining to the boy.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know you have a boyfriend. I didn’t come to you just to talk about the game.” The Gryffindor’s cheeks turned red.

“Oh.” Theodora put her hand over her mouth surprised by what he said.

“See, we got you covered.” George winked at Theodora the second the boy left.

“I was doing just fine.” Theodora pursed her lips. “We were just talking and you have to stop saying to everyone that I have a boyfriend!”

Theodora didn’t know what to do with her two best friends ever since they found out about her letters to Bill. Even though they promised they were going to stop with the teasing they were both doing a rather poor job and they have been telling everyone willing to listen that she has a boyfriend.

The second they spotted her talking to any boy, even if it was a first-year, they intervened immediately and made them back away. At first, Theodora found it annoying but at this point, it was simply amusing.

She would never admit it to the twins, but she loved how protective of her they were and she couldn’t help but hope that their teasing meant that they would approve if she and Bill ever start anything more than friendship.

“Speaking of you having a boyfriend.” Fred wiggled his eyebrows.

“Did this party make you drunk enough to finally tell us how you and Bill started to get all lovey-dovey?” George followed his brother’s lead.

Theodora didn’t have a clue but this was their plan all along ever since they knew they were going to have a party. They might’ve been with Lee for most of the night so far but every time either of them saw that Theodora’s glass was empty they quickly filled it up.

They were hoping to get her drunk enough for her to start talking about Bill. George suggested that they ask Bill about it but they didn’t know if Theodora told him that his brothers knew about their correspondence and with how angry Bill was when they and Charlie locked the pair in the broom closet they quickly changed their mind about asking him.

“First of all, I know what you two are trying to do – getting me drunk to tell you all my secrets,” Theodora giggled, “and second of all, we are not lovey-dovey.”

Theodora knew she would have to tell her two best friends sooner or later. But if she could do anything about it, she would rather it be later. She looked down at her half-empty glass, hoping the twins were not observant enough to see how much just thinking about Bill made her blush.

“Yet.” George made a kissy face. “You’re not lovey-dovey yet.”

“Why do you two care so badly, anyway?” Theodora bit her lip, trying to hide that she was nervous.

“Is it wrong if we want to know what is happening between our eldest brother and our best friend?” Fred sounded offended.

“I told you we are just writing letters to each other.” Theodora defended herself.

“So you will never meet up?” George lifted his eyebrows.

“We might.” Theodora shrugged as if it’s not a big deal.

“A-ha!” Fred pointed his finger at his best friend. “I knew it. Pay up, Georgie.”

George sighed and reached with his hand in his pocket. He took out 3 Galleons and put them into Fred’s revealing palm.

“What is this?” Theodora watched their exchange.

“We made a bet,” George explained.

“You made a bet about what?” Theodora narrowed her eyes.

“George said that you are only going to stick to letters and that Bill will never gather up the courage to ask you out while I had a bit more faith in our brother,” Fred smugged.

“You bet on our relationship?” Theodora slammed a hand against her forehead.

“Your relationship? So you are in a relationship?” George exclaimed.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant!” Theodora buried her face in her hands.

She felt like sitting down so she leaned against the wall and slid down until she felt the floor underneath her bottom. The twins cornered her and she said too much already. She wasn’t lying to them – she didn’t know what she and Bill were and she found it weird to talk to the twins about it because, despite all the sweet things they said to each other, she didn’t know what it would lead to.

“You said what you said, Theo.” Fred sang as he and his brother sat on the floor, one on each side of Theodora.

“C’mon, tell us.” George prodded.

“Fine!” Theodora sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you start sending letters to each other?” Fred asked the first question.

“He sent me a letter and a gift for my birthday,” Theodora answered casually.

“He sent you a gift?” George asked surprised.

“I bet he got her flowers.” Fred giggled.

“How did you know?” Theodora asked with a surprised expression on her face.

“Because Bill’s a romantic and a gentleman,” George smirked.

“Right, so what was in the letter?” Fred continued.

“I’m not telling you that,” Theodora scoffed playfully, “it’s enough that you read one already.”

“He was so sweet from the beginning?” George said incredulously.

“No,” Theodora shook her head, “at first we just talked about school and his job.”

“And then?” Fred wanted to know more.

“And then we started talking about other things.” Theodora pulled her legs toward herself, crossed her arms over them, and buried her face in them.

“Why are you holding back so much?” Fred asked puzzled.

“You never hesitated to tell us about a boy before.” George agreed.

“Because this is not just a random boy, it’s your brother,” Theodora said nonchalantly.

Fred and George exchanged looks as if they both got the same thought.

“And because, as I told you for the 100th time, nothing is going on between us.” Theodora continued as the twins didn’t say anything.

“Theo,” George tilted his head, “are you trying to hold back because of us?”

Theodora looked up at him, biting the inner side of her lip.

“I’m telling you the truth,” she whined.

“And we believe you but we can see that you are hiding your excitement and I can feel you shaking,” Fred said gently, putting his arm around Theodora’s shoulders.

“Fred, Charlie, and I didn’t tease you and Bill all summer just to have a laugh. We genuinely want you two to be together.” Theodora looked up at George as he said those words.

“Yeah,” nodded Fred, “we reckon you two would be great together.”

“You do?” Theodora whispered.

“What did you think?” Fred gave out a silent laugh.

“I don’t know,” Theodora shrugged her shoulders, “perhaps you would find it weird if I was involved with your brother.”

“Theo, you fancy Bill since our second year,” George smirked.

“We knew it was going to happen sooner or later and we can’t protect you from boys your entire life.” Fred chuckled.

“Okay.” Theodora swallowed her nerves.

“So, can you loosen up now?” Fred ruffled her hair.

“And tell you what? How shocked I was when I got his letter and a birthday present? How happy each letter he sent me made me? How surprised I was when he wrote that he missed me and not just as a friend? How I was pacing up and down my dorm, beating my head when he started signing his letters with Love, William instead of Bill? How he started sending me roses and how all of a sudden we didn’t talk about our lives but how much we want to see each other and be together? How my heart starts to beat faster by just thinking about him or how I am in love with him? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Theodora buried her head in her hands again. She felt her cheeks burning and she thought that her heart was going to escape her rib cage any second now, reminiscing on the last few months. She couldn’t stop the tears gathering in her eyes.

She felt great finally talking about Bill to Fred and George, especially now that she knew that they wanted them to be together. But she hated how she got her hopes up – how their words made her hopeful.

“That’s all very sweet,” Fred said gently.

“And as much as we would like to read all those letters and start planning your wedding,” continued George, “why do you sound like all of that isn’t exactly what you want?”

“Because,” Theodora sniffed, “we didn’t see each other since last summer and as much as the whole thing is great, it’s too good to be true.”

“What, why?” Fred wiped the tears off her cheek.

“Oh, come on. You really believe Bill feels the same about me? About me?” Theodora pressed her hands against her chest.

“He clearly thought that I was too young last summer and now all of a sudden he changed his mind and wants to be with me?”

“Look,” George pulled Theodora in a hug, “I don’t know what Bill wrote to you in those letters or what he promised you but I know that our brother is not a liar. So if he, at any point, said that he wants to be with you, you better believe him.”

“George is right, Theo. Bill wouldn’t lead you on or suddenly change his mind when he would see you if that’s what’s going through your head. He might’ve been stubborn during the summer but we wouldn’t tease him if we thought he doesn’t fancy you.”

“Why is it so hard to believe that you two could be in a relationship?” George lifted Theodora’s chin so that she looked at them again.

“I don’t know,” Theodora sighed, “because I never felt this way about anyone. Because he understands me on a completely different level. Because he treats me like an adult. Because I get this warm feeling of belonging when I think about him.”

“And what, you think you don’t deserve that?” Fred lifted his eyebrows.

“I guess.”

Now that she was talking about it – about the thoughts that were dwelling inside her mind for months – the whole situation did sound kind of silly. When did she become so pessimistic?

“Rubbish!” George said with a cheeky grin.

“Bill’s great and so are you, so you’re a match made by Godric Gryffindor himself.” Fred sent Theodora a wink.

“I am so lucky to have you as my friends.” Theodora put her arms around Fred and George and hugged them.

“Of course, you’re lucky. If you weren’t friends with us, you would never get a chance to kiss Bill.” Fred made a kissy face.

“Yeah, you’re welcome by the way!” George laughed.

Theodora playfully rolled her eyes, wanting to smack her two best friends over their heads but since they have been nothing but amazing throughout this conversation she decided to let them mock her, just a little bit.

[hs-devote]

i. láthi: the myth

Moodboard * Content * Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

i. the myth

“Fuck me.”

He collapses when he reaches his climax, along with the lady underneath him who's jolting when the pleasure hit them together. Their touched chest panting together, with sweats covering their naked body, confirming whatever activities they're having.

“That was good.”

He chuckles, “Absolutely.”

The man rolls from her, throwing his sculptured body next to the lady. He smiles when he feels the soft fingertips of her caressing his toned chest. He hums, lifting his head to land a kiss on her forehead.

“You're going today?” she mutters, “Why should you?”

“Selene,” he sighs, “Our people couldn't find her and they were too dumb. I can't wait any longer if I know I have more power to find her.”

“Fine then. But, don't take too long. I'll miss my husband so much.” the woman named Selene leans in to kiss her husband neck, “Our bed will missing you too, Harry.”

The man with the name Harry just laughs, twirling her blonde strand around his finger, “No need to worry, darling.”

Selene giggles sweetly as her husband cradles her face and brings their lips to moulded together..

. . . .

Harry feels weird.

It's not his first time being on Earth, but this will be the first time staying longer in the world of human and other creatures. Sure, the Earth is so beautiful but no one can against the beauty of Centauri. Centauri is where he lives, with his darling wife, Selene. Not only lives, but he is also the ruler of the realm, the lord of Centauri and all therein. He is the God of Centauri, and Selene is his Goddess.

The two of them have been married for a couple of years, long before the throne fell on him. Unfortunately, they haven't been given a child which is essential to keep their lineage. Selene is infertile, and that's why Harry has to go down to earth. To find the Goddess of Birth, who has been missing for hundreds years. He wants to ask her help for his wife.

And here he is, in Syracuse. Where everyone believes that the Goddess is somewhere in Italy, and Syracuse is the best prediction because the town was a witnessed the triumph of Centauri. Centauri is the realm that lies between the stars and moon, and cannot simply be searched for – can be found for the rightful creatures. The realm is unbelievable beautiful, a heaven-like, everything is so pure and sacred.

"Why human wears such odd clothes?" he hums, eyes darting from his foot to his chest. He feels weird and a little bit uncomfortable to wearing normal human clothes, everything they wear is so different from what he and his people wear back in Centauri. He used to wear silk, cervelt, or even satin. And when he's on earth, he has to adjust.

"This place is so plain." he averts his gaze around his temporary residence. He rents a cottage near the beach, for him easily return to Centauri at any time. The building is typically Italian country house, with stones wall and wooden door and windows. The things he likes about his temporary residential, it gives him more privacy than he asked. It's not in a remote area yet has traditional features combined with comfort and practicality. Even so, something is missing for him.

Flowers.

Back on his castle, flowers are always in every corner of the room and he's used to it. Flowers symbolize beauty and admiration, reminds him of his darling Selene.

Selene.

It's just a few hours after his arrival but he misses her already. But, in Centauri, it's only been a split second. Yes, the cycle of time in his realm is much longer than on earth. And because he isn't a human, especially a God, his aging is taking a really long time. If he's twenty-eight in human age, in fact, he's hundreds years old in Centauri time. But of course, his looks and physical like exactly a man on his mid-twenties. He's gifted with a beautiful face, perfectly sculptured body, voice as sweet as honey yet deep and firm.

Thinking of the flowers, Harry decides to step out of the cottage and roaming around the town to find a florist. He frowns as his eyes catch an Alfa Romeo Spider in his porch, looking at the vintage car with so much wonder. Even though he lives in a different realm, but he understands how the human worlds work and how human lives in general. That's why he got the car for his mobility.

But this time, he prefers to go on foot.

His green eyes full of wonder and curious, looking at his surrounding where humans doing their activities. But, the view this town got is more exciting to him. He admits how beautiful Syracuse is, even the town is small and the population isn't large. He thinks about inviting Selene to come here one day.

Then, his eyes catching a flower shop not too far from where he's standing right now. The shop looks pretty with so many flowers on their display, and it's the only flower shop near the beach – he guesses. He doesn't think twice and brings his foot closer to the shop. Feeling grateful that he doesn't need to walk far.

The shop is fairly small yet its collection of flowers is quite various. Before he goes inside, he looks at the flowers in the basket. The flowers are quite different with ones in his castle, but they're still pretty. Harry is too awestruck with them to make him unaware of the presence of someone beside him.

“Posso aiutarla, signore?”

He snapped his neck fast, eyes grow wider when looking at the young girl standing next to him. The girl offers him a friendly smile with a bouquet of roses in her arms. For a split moment, he's staring too long at her and makes the girl frowns. Shifting awkwardly, the girl asks him once again.

“Can I help you, sir?”

She speaks English with him, thinking he's not Italian and just a foreign tourist. But Harry just smiles, and pointing out her flowers, “Sono belli.”

“Si,” the girl nodded in agreement, “Grazie.”

"Err, I don't understand Italian that much." he scratches his neck nervously, "But, can I get a bouquet of each sunflower, daisies, and lilies?"

“Sure. Do you want to choose them for yourself or let me choose them?” she smiles, “But, I assure you they're all good.”

He nodded, “I trust you, thank you.”

“Fine. Coming right up.”

"Thanks." His eyes following the girl who just saunters into the shop. Shortly after, the girl comes out wearing gloves with scissors in her pocket. Her hands delicately pick out each flower and put them into the nearby basket.

“Is this the only flower shop in here?” Harry throws a question, eyes looking sharply at her – watching every move she makes.

“You could say that.” she shrugs, “Well, there's one but quite far from here. Not in the beach area, though.”

“Ah, I see.” he nods, “Do you know good places to visit? This is my first time and I don't know where the worth to visit.”

It's obvious Harry doesn't just stay for only a week or so, he needs more than that to find the missing Goddess. And he thinks visiting a place or two won't hurt. He loves to explore places, and it will help him to widen his search area.

Does he know where to find the Goddess?

No, he doesn't.

But, he can feel her if she's close. Also, the Gods and Goddesses have a special hidden mark on them to identify them as the extraordinary creatures.

"Is this your first time in Italy?" she looks at him with her doe eyes, "We have so many beautiful places to visit." then, she continues to pick the flowers.

“First time in Syracuse. But, I've been to Modena and Florence.” he doesn't lie. He went to Modena and Florence a few years ago, but it was just a quick visit. Really quick visit that only a day trip.

“Well, how much days do you have?” she questions him.

“Actually, I'm here for work so... I have much time, I think." he bites his lips, "Does it take many days?"

“No..” she laughs, putting the flowers into the bouquet and tied them up with black ribbon, “If you have a plenty of time, I suggest you visit several places in Sicily, not only Syracuse.”

“Thank you.” he says when the girl handed him his flowers, “But, I think this town is rich with Greek and Roman history. So, it will be more fun.”

"Oh, you're into a history?" she widens her eyes in surprise. Because not many people like a history that much. And finding a handsome man loves historical places, it tickles her a little.

"You could say that." he grinned, then stretches out his hand, "We haven't introduced ourself yet. My name's Harry."

The girl giggles and shakes his hand softly, “Hi, Harry. I'm Y/N.”

Her hand is soft like cotton and makes him wonder what treatment she did have to keep them so delicate. Even Selene's hands are not as soft as her hands. His smile fades a bit when Y/N takes her hand from him, and intertwining her hands together instead. He doesn't know why a disappointment swept over his heart when he lost touch with her. It feels like her hands convey a sense of safety to his soul. He drowns in his reverie too long, until he realises she's looking at him with an arched eyebrow. He blinks his eyes, shaking his head shamefully.

“I'm sorry. How much are these?” he says, looking at the bouquets in his arms like they are his babies.

“That would be €100.”

Harry then dig his pockets, taking out the money and hands her the cash. He politely thanks her before walking back to his cottage.

On the way home, he keeps thinking about the girl. Y/N. He doesn't deny that she's beautiful, charming, and she has something that he feels different. He assumes she's so much younger than him – than his God age and human age of course, and wondering how old is she. Then, he remembers Selene. Selene's human age is the same with him, but sometimes she acts like a few years younger and childish. He wonders if Y/N acts like that too.

He shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away. How could he compare his wife to another woman?

. . . . Flowers are quite essentials for him. And that's why he always buys them every day. For several weeks he's been here, he buys flowers from different shops and of course compares the qualities of each. Short story, he bought a few bouquets from a shop far from his cottage. He liked their flowers, but he didn't like the woman who sold them. She always flirted with him when he tried to pick the flowers, and openly asked him out.

Harry aware very well how attractive he is. And the way his wife keeps telling him how hot he is always being his constant reminder. He remembers when he was single, hadn't taken the throne yet, the ladies on Centauri always thrown themselves on him. Stared at him like he was their delicious prey, like he was the heaven that everyone always dreamt of. He knew they always had his name spoken between their conversation.

He was very cocky and proud of that – at that time. But, when he married Selene, all of them didn't diminish. The hunger stare, their giggly comments about him – it bothered him and Selene very much. However, the time when he took over the throne, those ladies zipped their mouth close. Very aware that they shouldn't talk inappropriately of their ruler.

But, the thing that bothers him more is those who talked about Selene. About her wife being infertile and hasn't produced an heir. Harry knows it annoys Selene more, and that's what brought him down to earth. For one mission.

How is his search been?

Absolutely nothing.

He still couldn't find the Goddess until now. He has arrived at the right place, but it's hard to find one person among the hundreds of thousands of people here. However, he must not give up. He tries to find a clue by going to historical places of the Gods and Goddesses. Time travelling to a few decades back to find any closure. But, it just gives him small pieces of the story.

Thinking about that saturated him a bit. He decides to go out and buying new flowers for his cottage since his last flowers were already withered. Climbing on his car, Harry started the engine and drive away. It only takes ten minutes drive for him to arrive at a certain flower shop. He smiles looking at the open signage hanging on the wooden posts but the girl he wants to see is nowhere to be found. He kills the engine, getting out of the car, and walking to his destination.

His smiles grow wider when his eyes catching the girl who just comes out from inside, holding a toddler in her arms. Is that her kid?

“Hello,” Harry greets her, looking at both the girl and the toddler.

“Oh. Hi, Harry.” Y/N smiles, adjusting the quiet little girl on her hips with both her hand wrapped around the small body, “Looking for some flowers?”

“Yes.” he breathes, “It's peonies and gardenias this time.”

“Good choices. They're still fresh because they just came a few minutes ago.” she nods, “Just a moment, I should take Lola inside.”

“Sure.”

Y/N gives him apologetic smile before going inside. It doesn't take a minute for her to comes out with gloves hand and no the toddler clinging onto her.

“Was that your child?” Harry asks curiously, watching Y/N picks out the peonies and putting them to the basket, “She's beautiful.”

"Unfortunately, no." she answers, "Lola is my friend's daughter. She asked me to babysit her this morning since she had to be out of the town until night. I thought my job is easy enough so I agreed and brought her here. Luckily my co-worker inside didn't mind at all."

“And yes. She's beautiful and such a happy baby. She's just three years old after all.” she adds, “Didn't bother me that much.”

Harry doesn't say a word, he just keeps looking at Y/N who's now putting the flowers together. He thanks her when she gives him the bouquets, then hands her the money.

“I've visited some places, most of them were historical.” he starts, “But, do you know any similar place? I mean, I'm interested with Greek and Roman myths. So, if anything like that I'll be happier.”

"Have you visited the town hall?" she asks back, "They have a lot of historical information about it, and one of them is the myth about Centauri."

Hearing his realm being mentioned makes him stiffened, but he has to play cool. Harry doesn't know if the people now know about Centauri since it had happened centuries ago and it's almost certain that no human has become living witnesses, only Centauri people who still have that memory to this day. Everyone thinks that the legacy of Centauri's victory was from another life.

“Centauri? What's that?”

"I think it's quite similar to Greek and Roman myths. But, everyone believes that Centauri's myth is greater than the Greek and Roman. Rumours say that the legacy of Greek and Roman, were actually Centauri's. Greek and Roman couldn't touch Sicily because it was overpowered by Centauri."

Harry scrunches his nose, “Only Sicily?”

"I guess? Because the rest of Italy was under Greek and Roman's power." she shrugs, "Well, I don't know much since I'm not Italian. But, that's what I heard from my granny."

“Oh, you're not Italian?” he asks in surprise, he doesn't think Y/N isn't Italian because her Italian accent that time was quite impressive. But, if he studies her carefully, he knows she's not.

“I'm English. I moved here since I was eight with my granny.” she chuckles, “That was after the passed of my parents.”

She's an orphan, and only live with her grandmother – he guesses. He feels bad to ask him that question if it would lead to a sad thing.

"I'm sorry about that." he gives her sympathetic smile, "I don't know–"

She waves her hand, "It's okay, Harry. You wouldn't know if I didn't tell you, right?"

“So, you're living with your grandmother? Only two of you?” “Correct.”

“How old are you if you don't mind?”

“I just turned twenty-one last month.”

See, she's much younger than Harry thought. He then nods, “Happy birthday, then.”

"It's late. But, thank you, Harry."

In all of sudden, Y/N co-worker came out from inside with the sobbing toddler on her hips. The toddler's face is wet with tears and pouting mouth.

“Piange perché le manca sua madre." her co-worker informs her and hands her the wailing baby. Y/N thanks her and begin to wipes the wet stains off the baby's face while cooing sweet words, trying to soothe the little girl.

“Va tutto bene, Lola. Andiamo a casa, va bene?” she whispers in Lola's, the little girl, ear. Her palms stroking Lola's back while bouncing her body. For a moment, she forgets Harry who looks at her in awe. Watching the precious scene unfolded before his eyes. He loves how gentle Y/N to the baby and thinking she will be such a great parent someday.

“Lo so, caro. Lo so. Ti manca moltissimo tua madre, sì?” she cooes, “La mamma tornerà stasera. Non preoccuparti. Vuoi giocare a casa mia?”

Harry watching carefully the way Y/N treats the little girl, the sweet gesture and fondness making him thinks about his future when he has children of his own. Thinking how beautiful and complete his life would be with the presence of a child whom not only he is the who craved, but everyone else. A child who would later replace him on the throne.

His lips forming small smile when Lola nods in Y/N's neck, refusing to show her face. She seems unwilling to let go since her tight fists wrapping around Y/N's neck.

“I'm sorry, Harry. I think I'll call it a day and go home. I don't want the customers to be bothered if Lola keeps crying.” Y/N says softly, her hands still stroking Lola's hair.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks hopefully, wanting Y/N to take his offer. He just curious about the little girl and fascinated about the bond between them. He knows she is close with the child, proven by Lola who agreed with her suggestion.

“Oh, don't worry, Harry. I can walk back to my house.”

“Why?” Harry is surprised by what he had just said, sounding so pushy. He hurriedly corrected before it was too late, “I mean, it will be a little inconvenient walking while carrying her. I parked my car not far from here. At least if I give you a ride, you will arrive sooner.”

“Uhm...”

"C'mon." he assures her when she looks a bit reluctant, "Besides, you haven't told me other worth visiting places in Sicily.

“Fine,” her agreement makes him smirks, “Let me take my bag first.”

He nods, letting Y/N take her time to grab her things. It doesn't take too long to her joins him in the front of the shop. She smiles, giving an okay to them to go. On the short walk to his car, Harry stealing glances at the lady next to him. Y/N tries to talk to Lola for the child to not feeling sad anymore. He doesn't realise that he has been smiling at the two of them.

He stops at his car, putting the flowers on the back seat before unlocking the passenger door for her. Y/N climbs into the car and thanking him for closing the door for her. She adjusts Lola in her lap while Harry joins her in the driver seat.

“Nice car, anyway.” she comments as the engine starting to roar.

“Thank you,” he replies while turning the steering wheel, letting the car down the street. Both of them didn't utter a word for the past minutes. If Harry busy behind the wheel, Y/N seems to be enjoying the ride by feeling the afternoon breeze sweeping her hair.

“Looks like you enjoying the ride.” he says softly, looking at her briefly before looking back at the road.

"Mhm, it feels nice to ride along this beautiful coastal with a convertible car." she nods, her head turns to see the beach not so far from here. Then, her head flicks to see him, "Do you know the direction to my home? I only gave you the name street."

"There's a technology called Google Maps," he jokes, "And luckily, I know how to used them."

Y/N laughs loudly, making him laugh too. Somehow her laughter is infectious, and he swears it was the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard. Yet, both of them hurriedly closes their mouth when Lola shushed them. The way Lola pouts her lips makes him gushes, thinking how cute she is.

“Mi dispiace, Lola. Non intendo ignorarti.” Y/N giggles, twirling her dark curls. The little girl just huffs, before cackling loudly because Y/N peppering kisses all over her face.

That makes Harry's heart flutter, seeing how precious a child is and the affection between them. For a moment, he looks at them like they're his family. A feeling of happiness filled his heart just thinking about it. But, he shakes the thought away. He has his wife back at home and will have a child someday.

“So, Y/N.” he coughs, “You just said to me earlier the town hall is a worth visiting place to know the history of Sicily. Where is it?”

“It's near Catacombe di San Giovanni actually, just five minutes walking distance from there.” she responses, “That's a nice place. Unfortunately, not many people come to visit.”

“Y/N, posso avere il gelato?” Lola whispers to Y/N. She just pinches her chubby cheeks, “Quando torniamo a casa, va bene?”

“Perchè non ora?”

“Perché non possiamo fermarci. non vogliamo disturbare Harry, vero?”

Lola slumps her shoulder before nodding softly, leaned back on Y/N chest while playing with her skirt. Harry who's behind the wheel, knows the girl is upset and he couldn't see an upset child. All he does now is, turn the wheel to stop by the ice cream parlor he'd seen before.

“Posso fermarmi un momento. che sapore vuoi?” he questions Lola who just staring at him with her big hazel eyes. She gives him toothy grins, nodding her head quickly makes him worry that it will fall off from how fast she nods.

“Posso avere due misurini di fragola e cioccolato?”

“Lola..” Y/N warns the toddler in her lap. But, Harry quickly shakes it off, “It's okay, Y/N. Just think of me treat you as a sign of our friendship.”

“Remind me to treat you back someday, Harry.” she sighs in defeat, then looking at the smiling child on her lap, “At least she will be better after this.”

. . . . It becomes Harry's habit to buy flowers at Y/N's shop. If usually he would buy them once a week, now he buys them almost every three days. Not only did he keep them fresh, but there was also feeling that would stick in his heart of he didn't see her. And he doesn't know why.

“Harry! Stai cercando Y/N?” Mia, Y/N’s co-worker greets him. She was sorting the withered flowers in front of the shop when Harry came. Harry feels his cheek heated; he nervously scratches his neck.

“Sì. Ma voglio anche comprare nuovi fiori.” he let out a nervous sigh, “Lei è qui?”

“Compra nastri per un po'. Aspetta solo un momento.”

“Grazie, Mia.”

Not long after, Harry feels a light tap on his shoulder. He smiles finding Y/N standing in front of him with the groceries in her hands.

"Hi, Harry." she grins, "Coming to buy another flower?"

He nods, “I will have three bouquets of baby breath and two bouquets of carnations this time.”

“Sure, wait a minute. I have to put this stuff inside.” She smiles, showing her shopping bags before storming inside. A few minutes later, she comes out with her gloves and scissors, obviously.

“I’m curious. Why do you often buy flowers?” she hums, “Are those for someone special?”

“No,” he answers honestly, “I just happen to like flowers, very much. They’re just pretty and I’m used to having a garden to plant them. Then, when I moved here and I don’t have a garden, flowers in a vase aren’t bad.”

“You’re just a romantic guy, aren’t you?” she teases him while tying the flowers.

“What makes you think like that?” he chuckles.

"Because…" she hangs her word, "It's rare to find a guy who happens to like flowers."

“Then, I’m such a rare guy then.” he wiggles his eyebrow, smiling a bit makes his dimples pop out. For a moment, Y/N thinks it’s cute. Moreover, the way she just finds out that Harry has bunny teeth, it’s just adding his cuteness.

“Cocky much you are.” she laughs, shaking his head. Then, handing him his bouquets, “There you are.”

"Thanks," he whispers then give her the money, "Actually. I came here also to ask for your help."

“Mhm, what is it?”

“About the Town Hall thing. Do you think you can accompany me to go there?” he nervously asks her, “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“When?”

“The sooner the better.”

“All right. I think I can leave now so we can go there faster.”

Harry widens his eyes, doesn’t think Y/N will agree and ask to go right now. To be honest, if Y/N refused him, it would be fine. He just wants to know what the people think about Centauri myth. Since Y/N is a local, she might know a little bit about it and maybe, maybe be able to help him.

“Is that OK? I mean, you’re at work and I don’t want to disturb you.” he asks with concern, “We can leave after you finish your work, though.”

“It’s okay, H. I’m not really working today and just stopped by the shop.” she bites her lips, “Besides, if I can help my friend sooner, why not?”

His heart flutters in awe after hearing that. He doesn't think Y/N considered him as a friend, a friend that happens because of the constant of buying flower. Plus, the way Y/N calls him by a nickname makes his heart stirs.

“Let me return the gloves and scissor and then we can go together.” she winks, then excusing herself before meeting him again. Harry leads the way to where his car was parked, not too far from the shop. He politely opens the passenger door for her, then putting the flowers in the back seat.

“Do I need to tell you the direction or.. you will use the Google Maps thing?” she teases.

He frowns a bit, “Google Maps is okay. But, you can tell me the right direction if the Maps goes wrong.”

“Okay then.” she hums, averting her gaze to the road in front of them. Looking at the beautiful Sicilian scenery. Sometimes, she glances at Harry who seems so focused behind the wheel. Little does she know, Harry is very aware that the girl next to him stealing glances at him. But he chooses to ignore it. Deep down in his heart, he knows she may be attracted to him yet the woman doesn’t want to show that.

“Here we are.” Y/N breaks the silence when they arrive at Town Hall, “You can park in the back of the building.”

Harry just nods, and park the car not far from the entrance. Before getting out of the car, they're quite surprised at the number of visitors that day – much more than usual, according to Y/N. Then, both of them close the door simultaneously and admiring the architecture. The building looks more like a cathedral, thick with gothic nuances and looks majestic. Y/N guides Harry inside and begins to stroll around inside. Of course, Harry goes straight to where the diorama of the Centauri myth is. His eyes catching a few illustrations that he admitted the truth while the people consider them a myth only.

The illustrations are where the Gods and Goddesses came to Sicily, built a civilization, and leaving it as dust when humans crossed their lines.

He doesn't realise he was staring at it for too long and deeply felt it while Y/N stands beside him.

“Harry.” she softly tugs his jacket sleeve, making him jolts and snaps his head to her. Looking at frowning Y/N.

“Uh, yes Y/N?” he scratches his nose, “I’m sorry I was daydreaming.”

“You look very carried away with the illustration.” she looks at him full of wonder, “You really like history, huh?”

“Actually, I think they missed one thing.” he deadpans, “Have you ever heard the myth of a missing Goddess?”

“What?” she blinks, frowning deeply.

“The missing Goddess of Birth. The myth said that the Goddess left Centauri and is believed to be in disguise among the Italians.” he exhaled, “I’ve heard if that myth but it looks they don’t have the illustration.”

“Well, after all it was just a myth, Harry. Some people believed it, and some didn’t.”

“But, do you believe it?” he challenges her, “The Centauri and myth?”

“I don’t know,” she jogs her shoulder, “But, if it was real, Centauri must be beautiful. The real, the people, everything… they’re believed to be between the moon and the stars.”

“If that was true,” he trails off, “Would you like to see Centauri?”

“Maybe. If I had the chance, though.”

Harry nods, assuming that she doesn’t know about the missing Goddess. Well, he could see a little when it happened. The Goddess had indeed disappeared, and she is, in fact, in Sicily. But, where should he look? Albeit he can sense the presence of other Gods, Goddesses, or Centauri people, it still complicated for him. He doesn’t want his mission in Sicily to be wasted, and he was thinking of getting to something as soon as possible.

Then, it happens.

He senses Centauri people nearby. Who sent them? What are they doing here?

"I think we should go now, Y/N." he murmurs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, "I'm done, and it was mind-blowing. Maybe I'll look for another theory somehow."

“Why do get so attached about the Centauri thing, Harry?” she asks while exiting the building, “Is that interesting?"

"Like I've told you before, I just like.. history." he brushes her off, helping her to hop on the car. He hastily starts the engine and leaving the building behind before the Centaurian finds him. He doesn't like the idea of him and Y/N get caught. They will tell his wife and he doesn't want that.

Harry doesn't hesitate to drive Y/N home while the girl refuses politely, doesn't want troublesome him. Well, she gives up after all since Harry is so adamant.

He gives her a small smile when she thanks him for the ride, and drifts away from her porch after that. It doesn't take long to arrive at his cottage, he drives pretty fast and the road was quite clear that day. Then, he is surprised by a familiar voice greets him when he opens his door. A few feet from him, someone he hasn't seen in a while standing with arms wide open.

“Selene?”

“My darling, Harry.” the lady sighs happily, jogging towards him and hugs him tightly. Harry has no idea why does Selene come to see him? Is there something wrong back in Centauri? Then, he remembers the Centaurians he sensed in the Town Hall. Was it his wife? But, he could tell right away if it was her. Did Selene send them away?

“Hi,” he breathes, pulling away from her to kiss her full lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Missing my husband so much,” Selene giggles, “I know it’s only a few days, but…”

A few days? Oh well, it's a few weeks for him. Excuse the different cycles of time between Earth and Centauri.

"Are you going to stay for a while here?" he asks even though he knows what's her answer. Selene never likes Earth and humans, she always looks down on them, thinking they're lowly creatures. Being the Goddess she is, especially as the wife of Centauri's ruler, makes her feel superior and nothing nobler than Centaurians.

“Why should I?” she rolls her eyes, “Sometimes I wonder why you volunteered to come down to Earth even I know what’s your mission. But, still…”

“Selene..” he sighs, “We have discussed this, right?”

“I know, I know.” she pouts, “Let’s just forget that. This place looks nice, anyway.”

“This is your first time complimenting human building, you know?” he teases him while stroking her soft cheeks, “But, yes. This is the nicest in all of Syracuse.”

“Where’s your bedchamber?”

“Why? Do you want to take a rest?”

“No,” she hums seductively, “I just miss you terribly,” then she tiptoed, bringing her mouth to his ear, “And it aching me down there.”

Oh...

Harry unconsciously bites his lip when Selene sucks his skin below the ear, and he is sure it will leave a mark from how hard she sucks them. Not need to think twice, he scopes her body and brings them towards his bedroom. He hasn't had sex since his arrival in Syracuse and it makes him giddy. After all, he also missed his wife even that feeling was sometimes replaced by the presence of Y/N in his new life here.

*

unedited.

share your thought with me, here. 

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

12. Granny Out of Control a.k.a. headless chickens, Gene Simmons’ girlfriend and Rapunzel

In the previous chapters: Judy and Stone act after their embarrassing encounter in the shower as if it hadn’t even happened; they implicitly agree on not telling Mike that his one-night stand was just the consequence of Judy’s revenge-fueled rumors about Stone’s sexual preferences. Ed loses his voice so the show has to be canceled, Jeff offers to give guitar lessons to Judy instead in his spare time. Granny buys a metal magazine to learn more about Seattle-based rock bands; the picture of Pearl Jam makes her think the perfect match for Judy isn’t Jeff but Stone. Krisha picks Effie up in the city to tell her that Kelly Curtis and Susan Silver have plans with her as a photographer; she also gives her the list of codenames the band and crew members use at hotels. Effie also joins her when she feeds Stone’s unsociable cat, Red who is incompatible with all girls who try to approach him.

 „I don’t know, man… Are you sure you saw them?”

“Don’t piss me off, Schmitty, of course I’m sure. I know whom and what I saw.” I mumble as I put the flashlight back between my teeth. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Not only makes he me do this stupid act, he even drives me crazy with this weak-minded questioning in the meantime. The guy obviously watches too much TV. Especially detective shows about drug cartels.

“But let’s go over it again. Maybe you were wrong or misunderstood the situation or…”

I sigh, and take the flashlight out of my mouth only to direct the blinding ray of light in his face.

“Okay, but this is the last time. And I’m only willing to tell it again because I have nothing better to do and because technically, I can’t do anything else until we finish this. Open the bag and hold it.”

“Yes sir... so you went having a shower…”

“Not that it matters if I went showering or shitting but yes, I went to the restroom.”

“And you opened the door…” he goes on with the storytelling like a small child who already knows his favorite bedtime story by heart.

“And there were they, standing at the sinks…”

“Stop. Are you sure it was them?”

“Of course I am, I could recognize Judy and Stone from miles!”

“Are you 100 % sure?”

“No, I’m only 99 % sure because there’s a very small chance that they both have doppelgangers right in this town but let’s say I’m very likely to have seen them.” I confirm while I start portioning the green leaves into the plastic bag Schmitty is holding.

“And they were…”

“…basically naked.”

“Basically?” he asks like he’d never heard the word before.

“Yes, basically.”

“How do you mean “basically”?”

“What? I’m fucking around here with sharing my weed with you and you’re already high? Unbelievable…”

“No-no-no, seriously, man, you didn’t say “naked”, you said “basically naked”. Define the difference. It’s important.” he flails fussily.

“Stop shaking the bag, it’s difficult enough to do this only with one hand. So, uh, they weren’t completely naked, they both were wearing a towel…”

“The same towel or…?”

“Hah, interesting idea, but no, they both had their own towel on. But I assume none of them was wearing any underwear…”

“That’d be normal, I mean, after showering… but that’s the weakest point in your theory, them having a shower at the same time… it sounds so unreal.”

“Yeah, I thought the same until I found the only logical reason.”

“What? That you only dreamed the whole thing? Or that it was just an intense trip due to the shrooms Mike gave you?”

“I know it sounds unbelievable but at this point, I’m pretty much convinced they did it on purpose.” I close the bag and throw it at Schmitty who hides it immediately in the inner pocket of his jacket and pats himself on the chest satisfied.

“Thanks. But I can’t follow your thinking, Scully. Why’d they secretly meet in the shower?”

“I don’t want to shock you but… I think they had sex right before. I almost entered but then I glanced them and they were almost naked, both giggling and Judy was groping Stone and… I backed out, I was so surprised, I didn’t even know what to do…”

“But they hate each other.” Schmitty protests shaking his head.

“And? Since when can’t people who hate each other have sex with each other?”

“Man, this is too much to me, Stone has Amber at home, Judy is like a nun, they can’t stand each other so obviously, they have sex??? Bullshit, that’s all I can say. I don’t know what you saw but it definitely couldn’t be a post-coital scene.”

“Look, I don’t understand the exact reasons either but…”

“I’ve always been told that as soon as we start touring, girls will try to drag me in the tour bus all the time but I imagined it somehow different…”

We both freeze at the hearing of Stone’s smug giggling and our surprise only grows when we recognize the voice that belongs to his companion.

“Sorry for ruining your wet rock star dreams but it’s impossible here to talk to someone face-to-face, even the walls have ears in this crew.”

Schmitty and I exchange a meaningful look and to his nod, I turn the flashlight on the lowest level. Walls might not have ears here but this bunk bed curtain we’re hiding behind definitely does. Even four, to be exact.

“So what’s the purpose of this conspired, hyper-secret meeting, Camden? I’m hungry so let’s get over with this as fast as possible!”

Hungry, yeah, I can imagine. So you prefer quickies, Stoney?

“I just wanted to talk about yesterday.”

Schmitty stares at me with popped eyes, even his jaws drop of shock.

“Ha. So you were thinking about it?”

“Yes but not the way you think. I’m not gonna tell you tirades about how much I regretted it or stuff because I didn’t. I only want to ask if you talked to Scully about it?”

Schmitty grabs my forearm, digging his nails into it, his other hand is shaking uncontrollably.

“No and I don’t know why I should force it, I mean it happened, it’s embarrassing enough for both of us so let’s draw a veil over it.”

“It’s embarrassing for both of us? Do you really think I give a damn about that? I mean, okay, I lost control, which doesn’t happens really often to me but who cares, I can handle the consequences. You feeling embarrassed, now that’s the last thing I care about. But have you already thought about the feelings of your friend at least for one single second?”

We both furrow our eyebrows and her words probably found their marks since Stone doesn’t answer, which makes Judy go on with the pep talk.

“Okay, neither of us is going to say a word since we both have selfish interest in keeping it in secret but if Scully shoots his mouth off and he finds out about what happened… just think into it, it’d ruin his self-esteem. I mean, it’s inevitable that it turns out later but the best strategy is discretion. Now, it’d be too fresh for him, let’s wait until he forgets about this little… intermezzo.”

Schmitty covers his still opened mouth in complete horror and even I start feeling uncomfortable now that my intuition is basically confirmed.

“So, would you finally promise to talk to Scully?”

“Dunno… I’ll consider it.”

“Jesus Christ, Gossard, would it hurt not to piss me off once in a lifetime?”

“To answer your question, yes, it would but this time it’s not about you, Miss Fussy. I was just thinking that we should let it slide since after all, it’s not as a big deal as you think.”

You fuck her and then try to ditch her? Come on Stone, I thought you were better than this.

“I mean, you make such a fuss but I don’t think Scully would let it slip, he’s probably already forgotten about the whole scene. And if I came up with it, he’d just start overthinking it; when he knows he has to shut his mouth, he becomes gossipy all the more.”

Ha, thanks Stoney but just for the record, I don’t gossip, I just process things by discussing them with other people, see also at “coping mechanisms”…

“It’s you who’s overthinking it. Just stop protesting and do what I ask you. I even use the word “please”.”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll see what I can do, just leave me finally alone with this. Can I ask you something too?”

“It depends…”

“Could we stay here for ten… fifteen minutes? You know, it’s about my reputation…”

“Fuck off, Gossard!!!”

We both exhale with a deep sigh when we hear them leaving the bus.

“Holy. Shit.”

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. Dude, you were right!”

“Of course I was right, I always am, you just never believe me.“

“But… damn… I didn’t see that coming… Gahhh.” Schmitty facepalms, rubbing his forehead worried.

“I’m surprised, though, I thought they didn’t notice me.”

“Apparently, they did. Jesus, I doubt there’s something serious between them but now that I heard it with my own ears, it all makes sense! They hook up, they are both embarrassed since they are enemies, plus the Amber-factor… and poor Jeff, he has a massive crush on Judy and she knows it, maybe she tries to have two irons in the fire… So she convinced him to keep the fling in secret not to ruin her chances at Jeff… She looks so innocent and now she turns out to be an actual snake… Do you think Karrie knows about it?” he jabbers staring desperately in front of himself.

“Whoa, stop, dude, are you insane? She’s not a bitch, they just made a mistake and she freaked out. Her worrying about Jeff sounded genuine, after all, Stone is no perspective for her, he’s got that… he’s got Amber, whatever she is for him. And I don’t think Karrie knows anything, even if she does, she’ll pretend she doesn’t.”

“But this changes everything! Jeff is our friend too and I don’t want to lie to him.”

“Trust me, he’ll never ask “And tell me Schmitty, have Judy and Stone had sex?”, so you don’t have to.”

“You’re making fun of me but you know too how dangerous information these are so you’d better have a good idea what are we going to do know.”

“I’ll tell you, Schmitty: we’re gonna act casual. Just watch me.”

***

„There’s no chance I could reach that string. Just… no. I don’t have that muscle, I’m done.” I moan as I desperately try to stretch my pinky finger to play the next chord following Jeff’s instructions.

“Hey, relax, just reach a bit further, you’ve almost got it.” he chuckles and makes an insecure move to help me out but he changes his mind in the last moment and pretends he only wanted to scratch his arm. And I pretend not to have noticed it.

“No, it’s impossible, I can’t twist my wrist that much. I don’t have freakishly long fingers like Stone, it’s enough.” I give up and put the guitar aside. We’ve been practicing for like one hour, I played him my still rudimentary sounding song idea, of course without telling him what exactly it was. He improvised a bass line to it on his acoustic bass guitar, his fingers are still running back and forth over the strings despite the fact I stopped playing. When I was a kid, Grandpa would tell me that if you cut the head of a chicken, it can still run around for a few seconds before collapsing, maybe it’s a similar phenomenon. Or maybe it’s like when a freight train hits a car and it pushes the vehicle in front of itself for miles before stopping. Headless chickens and train wrecks, why am I thinking about stuff like these while hanging out with a nice guy?

“I’m sure you can do it if you practice it. Look, my fingers aren’t long either.” he raises his palm. Is he expecting me to measure mine to his by placing them together? Could we rather just draw them around and compare the drawings like small children? Okay, he’s got strong, manly hands, that’s not bad at all. But how can he stuff those thick fingers between the strings? And those jewelries, God, they are terrible. Would he mind if I asked him to put them off?

“No, I can’t. I’m not good at these moves, I’ve already tried to play the violin, it didn’t go well. It went awful.” I protest, rather to overtalk my racing thoughts than to argue with him. I hope he’s not going to ask me about the details, I don’t feel like telling him that story at all.

“Okay, it was you who asked me for help, so…” he shrugs with a half smile, his fingers are still nerve-wrackingly torturing the instrument.

“Actually it was you who offered to help so…”

“Fair enough. I don’t want to force it so… if you want to finish all your future performances by saying “sorry, now comes the chord which is incompatible with my wrist so go the fuck home” – then okay, I don’t care.” he puts down the guitar. I try to decode the expression on his face, is he disappointed or just casual or…?

“How do you do that?” I ask quickly, I can’t bear that look.

“What?”

“This… everything…” I flail helplessly.

“I don’t know… I think I got bored with doing nothing and wanted to try something new and I realized I could do everything instead of nothing.” he leans back with a challenging smirk.

“Geez, you spend too much time with Stone.” I roll my eyes. “I mean… I played you something and you immediately knew what to do with it. Your head is full of ideas and variations, can you hear the harmonies instinctively or…?”

“I don’t know… when I hear a melody, I start hearing the other parts in my head… but sometimes I just mess around and try different things to check if they can work as a song or as an idea that I can use later. I try to keep my ears fresh, I fight against crafting only bass lines in my head, that’s why I pick up the guitar from time to time. You know, if a bass player never leaves his comfort zone, after a while, he’ll tend to operate only with the same five or five notes, it’s like a tunnel vision… or tunnel hearing…” he ends his explanation with a shrug and a lopsided smile, as far as I’ve observed, he does that pretty often.

“That’s amazing… I envy you so much. I’ve been studying and playing music for as long as I can remember but I’ve never felt that… sense of liberty? I practiced my ass off, I learned everything I could, at Juilliard, we basically dissected classical musical pieces into single notes and… I developed some weird perfectionism in the meantime, I know how good music is supposed to be composed but… I myself just can’t do it. I was so busy with studying other people’s works that I couldn’t develop the ability to create something, it’s like… my knowledge paralyzed my creativity… Or that’s just what I keep telling myself because I1m not willing to accept the fact that writing music is a gift you can’t just earn by practicing and learning…”

“Maybe you’re right.” he shrugs again and his reaction somehow hits me hard; I don’t know why, though. “I think I’ve already mentioned you that I took piano lessons but I hated it. I found literally nothing intriguing in it, it was boring, I’ve never been into Beethoven or some shit like that.”

“What?” I frown. I didn’t expect him to like the same things I do but… could he just show at least a little interest in what I like? I even talked about art and skateboarding with him. Okay, he doesn’t owe me anything, we’re not dating and all but if he ever wants something from me… okay, he probably doesn’t, it was obviously just a stupid gossip.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to trash your music, it’s just not for me, I appreciate it but I don’t like it. I’m just a Montanan jerk, did you forget?”

“You’re not a jerk, don’t say that… I’m just… nothing, forget it.”

“No, if you want to say something, don’t swallow it. Did I hurt you?”

“You didn’t… I’ve just spent my entire life playing classical music so I can’t imagine how someone is able not to like it at all.”

“Same here with sports.”

“God, I hate sports!” I exclaim and I immediately begin to laugh realizing I’m not better than him either.

“You see? But speaking of your music studies, there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to ask.”

“No.”

“No what? Am I not allowed to ask the question?”

“No is the answer to the question.”

“But I haven’t even…”

“Trust me, it’s no.”

“If you say so…”

“I’m just kidding. Most people attack me when they learn I’m a musician asking if I’d sing or play something for them, it’s so annoying, it’s like the “grunge question’ of classical musicians…”

“Okay, I get it.” he smiles. “But that’s not what I was about to ask.”

“Thank God. So, I guess you don’t want me to teach you reading sheet music either, because that’s usually the second question, which is usually asked by people with no musical hearing at all...”

“No, it’s more of a… personal one.” he hesitates squinting at me for the final permission.

“Hit me.”

“Why are you here?”

“Here? Like, here and now, with you or…?”

“No, I mean, why are you here, with the band? You graduated from one of the most prestigious music schools on Earth, you could conduct top choirs or whatever… and you’re here, loading our shitty van every single night, smelling sweat and cigarette smoke, spending days in a tour bus with beer drinking ugly dudes… Why? I guess Juilliard graduates can pick whatever job offer they want so...”

“I’m here for the money.” I answer without thinking and it immediately sounds false. Am I? Really? “I came here for the money, I don’t deny it, I had no job and however terrified I was, something told me I had to take this opportunity.”

“But… as a classical musician trained at Juilliard… why this job? I just can’t get it.”

“Well… I’ve known for a very long time that the music of baroque era is in which I’m the most interested. It’s, you know, a passion to me, it’s like punk was to you. And if you want to be really good at it, you have to go to the place where it comes from. Here in the States, you can basically hear nothing that was written before Mozart.”

“Europe?”

“Exactly. So in my senior year, I applied for a scholarship of the music academy in Leipzig.”

“And…?”

“And I won it.”

“So you studied in Europe too?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because my father died a few months before I graduated and the small firm he ran died with him… it was a very complicated period so I asked the academy if I could postpone it by one year.”

He’s chewing his lower lip and speaks up only after digesting for a few seconds what he’s just heard.

“And they refused your application?”

“No, they sent me a kind acceptation letter in which they cited their scholarship regulation that said postponement is allowed once. So I moved back to Seattle and started teaching.”

“Oh. I guess something came up one year later too.”

“Well yeah, my sister’s almost dying, that came up.”

He exhales with a deep sigh, I have the feeling he already knew all the details, he just couldn’t do the math. Maybe Karrie told him our family saga. I don’t mind, though, I don’t feel like telling him those stories either…

“Well, that’s a lot… but it also sounds like… you gave up your dreams.”

Now it’s me who can’t do anything else but shrug.

“Maybe… or maybe, it was just a warning from the universe. I’m not religious but I do believe that everything happens with a reason, maybe you can’t find it out ever because it’s something bigger than you or your shitty little life. My family needed me and they still do, or at least they need my two hands I can make money with so… plus, I’ve always been terrified of performing. I have worst stage fright, I doubt I would be able to conduct in the spotlight of the world’s biggest concert halls… anyways… have you ever heard about famous, female conductors?”

“Normally, I’d say you’re a coward and you should follow your dreams but I understand the family factor, of course. And I don’t want to act like a hypocrite either, I could have looked for another graphic design program too when mine was canceled in Missula.”

“But changed your dream instead.”

“Exactly. And maybe that’s what you should do too if universe or God or Buddha or the spirit of Johann Sebastian Bach is trying to message you that you picked the wrong dream.”

“Are you trying to say I should switch my brain to believe loading shitty vans and smelling Scully’s and Schmitty’s stinky feet is my real dream?” I giggle.

“If that’s your way, than go for it, girl!” he plays the overly enthusiastic motivational trainer. We crack up but none of us is laughing heartfelt. His face finds finally rest in a genuine, encouraging smile. “Let’s raise our glasses to the new dreams!”

We both reach our hands to clink our imaginary glasses.

“To the new dreams!”

***

I’ve been on the road with them for days and nothing. Not a single move or a sound that’d confirm we’re following the right traces. And I’m thirsty. So thirsty. But they are so envious, I know they are hiding spare water in their stupid spacesuits or what but they claim they have nothing to share. Sure. I would never drink recycled pee, anyway. But those two moons look pretty cool, the night sky compensates me for every inconvenience I’ve experienced since we started chasing that gross sandworm… everything for the melange…

However important my mission is, it gets interrupted by three quick, impatient knocks on the door.

“You’ve been shitting in there for forty-two minutes! I know you’ve finished and you’re just reading! I have to pee! Get the fuck out of there! Why do you have to do this all the time?”

Maybe because this is the only place where I can have some progress with my current reading undisturbed? I reluctantly close the hardcover volume of Frank Herbert’s Dune and glance lazily at my wristwatch.

“First of all, it’s been only forty minutes. Second, it’s shorter than a blink of an eye, if you measure it in cosmic time. Not even applicable.”

“Okay, I can use astronomical metaphors too. My bladder is a red giant that is about to explode so…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, geez, urinary incontinence? You should see a urologist.” I remark opening the door. He basically tosses me out of is his way and almost slams it on my nose.

“It’s rather you who should see a doctor, fuck, Stone, what did you eat? Uuugh, I’m dying.” I hear his muffled indignation.

I lie down on my bed and stuff the pillow under my nape. I turn the pages back and forth for a few times until find the place where I was before Mike kicked me out. So, back to those goddamn pervert Fremen fuckers…

I barely manage to read a few lines, when Mike comes back and throws himself on his bed, unmuting the TV that is showing underdressed ladies caressing their own body and telling their erotic fantasies in seductive voice. I clear my throat. No reaction. I do it again, this time longer and louder. Nothing.

“Sorry, am I bothering?” I ask sharply but our guitarist seems to be completely immersed in the curves. “Okay, busted. I know you only went to the toilet to jerk off. You only watch Playboy TV and noname porn channels, you really need to get laid.”

“Done, last night. Remember?” he answers slowly and mindlessly, his eyes are still glued to the screen.

“No, because I wasn’t there, thank God.”

“You’re just envious because you have to practice celibacy, otherwise Amber would cut your balls off.”

I squint at the girls over my book.

“Not that I feel tempted. Jesus, I’m sick of these… udders…”

“Hey, watch your mouth! Those ladies deserve more respect! Especially her!” he points at the blonde, blue-eyed, busty woman on the screen who is dropping her lingerie standing at a bath tub.

“Why, who is she?” I look back at the text in front of me, not that I understand a word of it. Since I receive no answer I turn my head towards Mike only to see he sat up in the meantime and stares at me offended. “What? I have no idea.”

“That’s Shannon Tweed!!!” he flails outraged.

“… who is…?”

“Who is a goddess, Playmate of the Year in 1982 and last but not least, the girlfriend of Gene Simmons!”

“Oh. So she’s old as dirt.” I summarize laconically.

“Stone, what’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with her? What’s wrong with big boobs? I thought you liked them… I mean, you are the guy who’s entitled to do anything with Seattle’s most spectacular pair of bosoms so…”

“Hey, you’re talking about my girlfriend!” I grunt.

“I’m talking about your girlfriend’s tits!”

“Exactly, that’s it! Don’t talk about my girlfriend’s tits! Anyway, how do you know what they look like?”

“Hey, first, I’m only talking about them. It’s called freedom of speech, First Amendment…”

“What the fuck, parts of the Constitution are printed now on beer tags or did I miss something?”

“…second, it is very difficult not to know what they look like, they basically poke your eyes out!”

“Only talking, ‘course.”

“Certain female anatomical features attract men’s eyes, it’s in our genetic code. Don’t even try to make me believe those features had nothing to do with you ending up with her. Wait!” he exclaims with a finger snapping. “Oh, I get it already. You miss her! That’s why you can’t stand the playmates on TV! But you could have said, it’s not a shame…”

“Dr. ‘Cready, expert of constitutional law and anatomy, psychotherapist. I’ve just said I don’t feel tempted…”

“Because those boobs” he points at the screen “are forbidden fruit and remind you of those boobs in Seattle.”

“You’re pointing in the wrong direction, Michael. You’re pointing at boobs in Indiana.”

“Whatever. You miss her, admit it. My boobies are over the ocean, my boobies are over the sea…”

“Stop!”

“My boobies are over the ocean so bring back my boobies to me…”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“BRING BAAACK, BRING BAAACK, BRING BACK MY BOOBIES TO ME, TO MEEEE!”

“I’m only saying that even huge breasts can be boring after a while.” I overshout his off-key singing.

Mike suddenly stops singing and just blinks at me completely frozen.

“You mean… you want to leave Amber?”

“Jesus, what did I do to deserve this?” I bury my face in my hands. “I mean… imagine your favorite food!”

“But that’s… risotto…?”

“Perfect!”

“But risotto doesn’t look like boobs!”

“Jesus, of course not, just imagine it!”

“Okay. Mmmh, it looks delicious. I can even feel its smell.” he moans with closed eyes.

“So you want to eat risotto now, right?”

“Oh yeah, I want it more than anything.”

“And if you could… or had to eat risotto every single day, would you feel the same?”

“Uhm, probably… not.” he opens his eyes.

“And here we are. If you’re in the position where you can play with huge breasts every day, it’s not such a big deal anymore.”

“Hm, makes sense…” he lies back. “But wait!” he sits up quickly again.

“What?”

“In that case, risotto wouldn’t be my favorite food anymore.”

“Yeah, probably…”

Congrats Sherlock. I drop my book on the nightstand, by now, I basically gave up all hope for finishing the chapter I was reading.

“But that means that you prefer small boobs now!”

“I didn’t say that but obviously, smaller tits have their appeal too. And there are girls who would look ridiculous with big breasts.”

My mind begins to wander involuntarily… Yeah, Amber is a bombshell and she drives me crazy whenever she’s around but I’ve always had a thing for more fragile looking girls…

“Who are you thinking about?” Mike asks greedily like a curious puppy.

“Jesus, no one.” I scoff frowning. “I mean, very slim girls look better with… proportionate breasts, you know, like small apples…”

I catch myself cupping my hands, what the hell, am I honking imaginable tits in the air? Okay, I have to talk to Eric to fly Amber here, I’m going to put an end to this, I’m pathetic.

“Say an example!”

What? I don’t know whom I was thinking about, I don’t even know if I was thinking about an existing person, maybe I was just fantasizing about freaky phantom breasts, I couldn’t even see them, it was just a desirable cleavage… and round hips… and shapely thighs…

“I can’t!”

“Just say an example, I don’t know, someone famous who looks like that, or someone who we both know…”

“Kylie Minogue?” I groan in agony. Hopefully I satisfied Mike’s need for a new protagonist for his erotic dreams because he only nods with an appreciative pout.

The ringing of the phone on the bedside between us interrupts our intellectual conversation and we both stare at the device surprised and confused for a few seconds, it’s usually us who call family members and friends, not the other way around. Finally, I decide to pick up.

“It’s Stone.”

“…” No one answers but I can hear some indistinct noises coming from the other end of the line.

“Hello… who’s that? Wo am I talking to?” I ask, and Mike pulls closer to the speaker of the receiver too.

“Ah… excuse me… I must have dialed the wrong number… you’re obviously not the Notre Dame Hunchbach…” an old female voice answers.

What the hell? Is this a prank call? Old people make phone pranks too?

“Who?” I mouth to Mike who mouths “Judy” as a response. Ah, yes. She also chose a codename, not that anyone is interested in her. “You’re talking to Dr. Hugh Jeego, but who am I talking to?”

“Ah, you must be Mr. Gossard. I’m Mrs. Albertson, Judy’s grandma.”

I almost drop the receiver.

“Ugh… uhm… hi, Mrs. Albertson, it’s nice to meet you… I mean, even if not in person but… I guess you wanted to call Judy so…” I make an attempt to finish this awkward intermezzo but she cuts me off.

���Actually, I am glad that I can talk with my Judy’s new colleague, this job is so different in comparison to what she worked earlier, you know, she taught in a school…”

“Yeah, I know…”

“…and now she’s with a rock band, and there are so many rumors about musicians, they drink and do drugs and…”

“We… we don’t drink… that much… not before shows…” I answer and Mike nods approvingly opening a beer can with a loud fizz. “… and we prefer herbs…”

“And mushrooms…” Mike adds.

“Shut up, you ruin everything!” I hiss between my teeth while I cover the microphone with my palm.

“Who was that?”

“It was… it was Mike, our lead guitarist.”

“Ah, Mr. McCready!”

Mike pats his chest proudly.

“Exactly, Mr. McCready…” I flip him the bird.

“I hope my Judy takes care of herself, she tends to become obsessed with work, she even forgets to eat… does she eat properly?”

“I’ve… I’ve seen her eating… so I guess she does…” I try to reassure her but I’m afraid I don’t sound very convincing; after all, the eating habits of Miss Smarty Pants don’t belong to my main interests.

“I wish she ate more, she’s so skinny, isn’t she?”

“She is… I mean, she’s slim. But like… not too slim. Her body is proportionate… I mean, physically, anatomically… her shape is feminine…  and when I say “feminine” I mean she’s not malnourished…” I babble and the small apple tits appear in front of my eyes again, Jesus, I’ve started losing my sanity… For some reason, Mike feels necessary to grab the receiver and yell a gratuitous, cheesy tirade into it.

“My learned colleague is trying to say that she’s a very pretty young lady, with all the respect, of course. She’s the most virtuous girl I know, she behaves well, you can be proud of her, Mrs. Albertson.”

Yes, Mrs. Albertson, exactly, your grandchild behaves well, she brought condoms only enough for a whole fuckin’ football team, safety first… I snatch the receiver out of Mike’s hand and lift it back to my ear but before I could finally get rid of the old lady, the TV catches my attention. While we were listening to the phone call, the harmless playmate fantasies ended and the channel started airing hardcore porn. And either was the petting part very short or it didn’t even exist since the “characters” are pretty much in the middle of things and before we could react anything to avoid the disaster, the actress starts screaming rhythmically.

“What was that noise? Are women with you too?” the old woman inquires suspiciously.

“Turn down the volume, for fuck’s sake!!!” I scream-whisper to Mike.

“No, we’re alone, Mrs. Albertson… we’re just watching TV… Murder She Wrote, someone is being killed!” Mike improvises aggressively poking the remote. “It’s not working…” he groans with a miserable expression.

“Oh, I like that show… which episode? Maybe I turn on the TV to watch it too...”

If you knew… In the meantime the man starts moaning too so the obvious noises grow even louder.

“Oh, the murderer is being killed too!” I try to win some time for Mike, I admit, it wasn’t the most creative lie I’ve ever said…

“I’m saying it’s not working, it must be contact failure or low battery…” he explains beating the remote against his palm at full strength, creating a counterpart to the sound of the bodies snapping against each other on the screen.

“It’s the episode about the slasher.” I maintain the conversation and then address Mike again. “Then use the power button on the TV device or throw it the fuck out of the window, I don’t care, just do something!!!”

“Ah, great idea!” his face lights up and finally, he walks to the TV and turns it off. I swear, I thought for a second he was going to choose the window version, like Keith Moon. I’m sure he was considering it but found the box too heavy.

“It’s over…“ I transmit to Mrs. Albertson.

“It ended with a cliffhanger, what a shame…” Mike remarks and I can barely suppress my snorts.

“I hope for a happy ending…” I grin, Mike presses his pillow against his face, while the poor lady obviously doesn’t even know what to say. After a few seconds of silent, body-shaking laughter, he rearranges his face muscles and takes the receiver away from me.

“It was a pleasure to meet to you, Mrs. Albertson. Judy is a great girl and as far as we know, Effie too, please, hug her for us. I hope we can meet you in person too, when we get back.”

“I admit, I’m relieved, I want you to know I think you are just darling guys. And now, I call the Notre Dame Hunchbach, as I intended to. Goodnight, Mr. Gossard, Mr. McCready.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Albertson.” we sing in unison.

After I hang up the phone, we stare at each other silently for long moments, before we burst out laughing hysterically.

***

Great. She’s late. She promised she’d be waiting for me at the bar counter at 9 p.m. I’m doing the third circle in this goddamn place and she’s nowhere to be found. Okay, RCKNDY is actually my favorite place and I was happy when Krisha offered to meet me here to unveil Kelly’s and Susan’s “great idea” about which I only know at this moment that it concerns my photos. The cigarette smoke irritates my throat and some unknown band is in the middle of sound check on the stage, the indistinct guitar noises and the female lead singer’s instructions blast at random moments from the speakers causing me mild heart attack every single time and making the crowd members overyell them. Despite the early hour, the place is packed; I can barely struggle through the mass of flannel-wearing guys and girls. Early hour… what am I talking… now that my lifestyle converges on clinical death, both metaphorically and literally, I usually spend my evenings in front of the TV wearing my pajamas. It’s good Krisha picked this day, Mom is working at that new side job again so I didn’t have to make anything up to prevent her from asking suspicious questions.

I visited the restroom to kill some time but it just made me frustrated all the more since I involuntarily became the audience of a bunch of girls, one of them was gushing about the kissing skills of her current crush… gah, I can’t believe I turned into this sour bitch, just because I’ll end up as a spinster, she’s entitled to have some fun…

Almost fifteen minutes have passed by and she still hasn’t shown up yet. I can’t hang out with Victor either, he’s helping with putting the finishing touches at the sound check. I guess I have to wait then. I pick a bar stool and try to decipher the list of beverages on the wall.

“What can I get for you?” a red-haired bartender girl asks. Her question catches me off-guard, since my good old answer “beer” hasn’t been an option for a while and I didn’t have enough time to consider the alternatives. She’s chewing gum with a bored face, reminding me of a ruminant… a hot ruminant.

“Uhm… I… ugh, I haven’t…” I jabber and she reacts with an impatient eyeroll, the countless bracelets are clinking around her wrist as she runs her fingers through her red mane.

“I’d like to have a virgin mojito.” I utter the first thing that comes to mind. She acknowledges my choice with a scornful scoff… Yeah, in case I haven’t felt embarrassed enough yet, she makes obvious that she’s the sexy and cool femme fatale and I’m a straight-edge cripple in a boring, worn, brown jacket.

“Hey, here you are!” someone grabs my shoulders.

“Me? I’ve been waiting for you for like… hours?” I frown while Krisha settles down on the bar stool next to me and places her beer on the counter.

“Gosh, sorry!” her eyes pop as she checks her wristwatch. “I arrived too early and went to the executive office to meet a few friends.” she points at some people talking in front of a door that probably belongs to the office rooms. “That’s Alex, he runs this place, he’s a good friend of Stone, by the way. And that girl next to him works here too, she’s the girlfriend of Regan.”

I observe the girl she’s talking about, she has a nice, bright smile. Fantastic. Krisha knows everyone here… and I have no idea who these people are, and by the way, I’m nobody.

“Regan?” I furrow my eyebrows. “It’s a unique name, I swear I’ve heard it but I can’t place it…”

“He’s also an old friend of mine. And of Stone of course. You might know his name because he played in Malfunkshun with Andy. I mean Andy Wood.”

“Wood.” we say the name at once. “Of course I know his name, I didn’t grow up in a cave…” I explain, maybe in a sharper tone than intended.

“Oookay… “ she raises both hands defensively. “Actually, Regan almost became the drummer of Mother Love Bone, until they replaced him with Greg Gilmore. They made Stone fire him, I was thinking “okay, that’s it, he’s gonna hate us forever” but somehow, he managed to convince him by using logical reasons. If you ever want to fire a drummer, just call him because he’s your guy.” she nods meaningfully and takes a sip of her beer.

“Based on my sister’s opinion, drummers probably leave the band willingly, after having spent some time with him.” I remark dryly. “Thank you.” I reach for my drink and slide the money towards the phlegmatic redhead. I suppress a smile when I see her realizing with disappointed face that I spared the tip. What was she thinking, seriously?

“Oh yes, I forgot your sister and you sew Stone-shaped voodoo dolls in your spare time. By the way, Regan has played with a guy called Shawn for a few years, he’s a huge talent. The dude is a Prince-freak, which is somehow odd in a city where you can’t make a single step without stomping on a distortion pedal but he’s an awesome singer. AND they are planning to jam with Stone as soon as he gets back. I can give you the address of their rehearsal room in case you want to assassinate him…”

“No, thanks, I already know where he lives so…”

“Right!” she slaps herself in the forehead.

“Anyway, can I finally learn why we’re here?”

“Soon. We’re waiting for someone… I’m going to introduce you to someone… who has a job offer for you!”

“Wow… let me guess… healthcare branch has discovered me and they want me to be the face of some firm’s dialyzer portfolio?” I squint at her as I loudly slurp my cocktail.

“Damn, you nailed it!” she bangs her fist against the counter. “Anyway, I’m not going to tell you anything until she arrives, you need to be punished for the self-deprecating joke.”

“Spank me…” I mumble but my retort stays unnoticed since Krisha stares in an indefinite direction next to me sending an enthusiastic wave towards someone.

“Look, Jer is here too.” she points at the target of her smile and I follow her gaze only to recognize Jerry Cantrell… he’s wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket with a white tee.

“Wait… didn’t… didn’t you mention… I mean, you dated, didn’t you?” I ask confused, trying to form coherent sentences. It’s not going well.

“Yeah, we did.” she wiggles her eyebrows.

“But exes are supposed to hate each other…” I try not to turn around too obviously, so I remove a non-existing hair from the shoulder part of my jacket. While he’s slowly walking through the crowd, I notice he’s holding hands with a long, brown-haired girl. She has a perfect body and she’s probably completely aware of it since the tight leather pants highlight every curves of her. Sure, a 10/10 chick for a 10/10 guy, that’s how world has always worked… His hair is let down… I catch myself smiling, Dad insisted on calling him Rapunzel…

“It was just a summer fling and we realized after a few dates that we weren’t made for each other. So no one got hurt.” she shrugs. “Anyway, we share the building with the management of Alice in Chains so we knew we would run into each other all the time. The music scene of this city it’s like a big, incestuous family so…”

We both crack up.

“Oh no…” she sighs annoyed, staring over me again. I don’t know what’s going on in her head but it must have to do something with another twenty-eight people I’ve never met. “DON’T TURN AROUND!” she yells at me when I try to check the cause of her reaction.

“Why, what’s…?”

“It’s too late, I guess she’s already noticed us… or hasn’t she? Bow your head…” she leans on the counter, letting her hair cover her face.

“What the fuck?”

“I said bow your head… avoid eye contact… shit, I don’t have the nerves for this right now…”

“Krisha? Oh my god, it’s you, I haven’t seen you for ages!” I hear a powerful female voice from behind my back.

“Oh, hi Amber, it’s nice to see you!” Krisha groans with a painful smile, lifting her head and letting herself be pulled in a half-embrace resigned. I have to bite my lips to prevent myself from giggling since she sends a cross-eyed grimace to me over the girl’s shoulder. So she must be Stone’s Amber.

“Hey, are you here with your little friend?”

And that must be me. I involuntarily straighten up as much as I can but despite the high bar stool, I’m still shorter than her in her heels. I wonder if Red peed into these ones too… Now that I’m checking her out properly, I realize somehow she doesn’t belong here. Mini dress, heels, perfect makeup… That’d be Stone’s type?

“Uhm, this is Effie, she’s the sister of the band’s new monitor engineer…”

“Ah, Julie, you see, I know everything…” she knocks on his temple with her index finger a few times. “I’m Stoney’s girlfriend.” she grabs my hand and shakes it aggressively. I don’t correct her, I just exchange a quick look with Krisha, her eyes confirm that it wouldn’t make sense anyway.

“And… are you going to stay for the gig too?” Krisha nods towards the stage after a few moments of awkward silence.

“Oh, no, I’m going partying with my girls, I just checked in, I wanted to say hi to Alex and ask him for a favor. We’re organizing a grunge-themed fashion show and this place would be a perfect place for it.”

“A what?”

Krisha’s face radiates shock and disgust at the same time.

“You know, this grunge thing is blowing up, the firm is about to launch a collection, you know, flannel shirts, jackets, shorts with leggings, so we’re looking for a grungy place to present it…” she explains with huge hand moves. As she begins to explain the details of her brilliant idea, I get immediately distracted. Not only because my mind is desperately trying to ignore this nonsense but because I spot Leather Pants Chick at the same sport were Alex and his colleague were standing a few minutes ago. Only a few seconds pass by until her partner arrives too, he immediately pulls her closer by her hips as he leans against the wall… they engage into a make-out session without hesitation. Jerry digs his fingers into her hair and as things are getting more intense, his hands slowly wander along her back until they reach and firmly grab their destination…

I swear it wasn’t so hot in here when I arrived, I can feel my face is burning, I’m sweating like I was in hell… Yeah, being forced to watch a hot guy smooching with a girl who isn’t you but in exchange, is much prettier than you, that’s how I imagine the first circle of hell. I can barely peel myself out of my jacket, my elbow gets stuck when Amber grabs its sleeve. I’m still a little dazed-off and stare at her expressionlessly while I’m trying to pick up the threads of conversation.

“...exactly like this one, thrift clothes are so trendy now, where did you get this one?”

She shakes the sleeve of my jacket impatiently, making me realize that’s what she’s talking about. Should I tell her the truth? That it’s not from a thrift shop, that it’s original, that Judy and I pooled the money we earned at our summer jobs together and made an agreement about taking turns on wearing it six years ago?

“I can’t… can’t remember…” I manage an effortless answer.

“You have a great taste, we three should do a thrift store tour together.” she rants on.

“Totally.” Krisha tries to seem enthusiastic but she rather reminds me of a snarling serial killer.

“Okay, I have to go, oh my god, I’m late and I haven’t even talked to Alex. We could hang out in the city next week, call me, Krish! And bring your new friend too!” she winks at me. “See you, later girls!” she finally leaves us alone, the quick tapping of heels echoes in my head even after she has disappeared behind the office door. Krisha grabs her glass and drinks its content for one sip.

“Ah, I feel much better now.” she sighs. “I’m afraid my phone is about to die. I may not be able to make phone calls for a while.”

I snort into my drink.

“I must say, she’s not the girl I’d imagine as Stone’s girlfriend.”

“Trust me, she’s not the girl whom anyone would imagine as his girlfriend. But seeing them together is always like a free circus ticket, it’s pretty funny, especially when you have coke and popcorn too.”

“Sooo… where’s the mysterious person who we’re waiting for?” I look around, although I have no clue what physical characteristics I should look for, I don’t even know if we’re talking about a man or a woman. As my gaze slowly wanders around the room, I admit to myself unwillingly, that I exactly know what I’m looking for. Long, blonde hair, black leather jacket and a white shirt. The realization makes me blush, I feel like in those good old high school days, trying to casually encounter my current crush who doesn’t even know I exist. Why am I like this all the time? Why? I’m such an idiot…

“Okay, I check Alex’s office, maybe we misunderstood each other and she went in without me noticing her. And I’m sure Alex needs some spiritual support too, the recovery will be tough for him. Do you wanna come?”

“No, I… I’d rather wait here.” I answer quickly, flushing, I’m stupid, stupid, stupid… “So it’s a she?” I shout after Krisha but she just waves me off laughing.

So… what was I thinking? I could have join her and meet her cool friends but I chose to drink here alone, not that I don’t feel lonely enough. And I ran out of drink in the meantime too… I want to procrastinate the next round until the other, friendlier bartender shows up again but unfortunately, the red-haired demon spots my empty glass and elbows on the counter opposite me with a challenging, patronizing smile.

“May I bring you a next lemonade?”

I’m about to snap back but a pleasant male voice over my head makes me change my mind.

“One more of this, whatever it is. And the lady is my guest.”

[itrytowrite-things]

Shifting into the supernatural

Sam x reader (platonic), Dean x reader (platonic)

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to leave her world for the supernatural word and Sam Wonder why. 

A/N: From what I understand shifting is a super realistic version of lucid dreaming. It is a big thing on tik tok at the moment. So that is where I got the inspiration for this fic. I have not attempted to shift realities so I am not 100% sure how it works so if you are interested in attempting to shift watch a youtube video and do research.

I sat in the small hotel bathtub. My knees pulled into my chest at an attempt to make myself as small as possible. The tub was only about 4 feet long and half that deep, which didn't mix well when you put two people in it. Especially when one of them was Sam Winchester who stood at 6’4” without shoes. Sam let out a small grunt as he tried to sit up taller, his left foot kicking me in the back. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, moving around trying to fit his legs at a more comfortable angle. I quickly shushed him. Dean was just outside of the door, a girl screaming at him as he calmly tried to explain why he was also sleeping with her friend after their night of so-called “passion”. It would be quite funny if he hadn’t forced Sam and I into the bathroom after getting the angry call from said girl claiming she was coming to get “something off her chest”. I am pretty sure he thought she was gonna come in, rant about her day, and then take him away to have a “good” time, meaning Sammy and I would only be in the bathtub for the five minutes it took Dean to suggest heading back to her place. But when she came in yelling about Dean being a “no good dirty bastard” we knew we would be in here for a while.

The creaking under Sam's weight felt like the loudest sound for miles, even though it hardly made a dent against the sound waves traveling from the hotel room. The yelling soon grew repetitive and old, no longer being gossip to hold against Dean. I looked at Sam for a while, trying not to laugh as he grimaced about the details the girl was giving about her night with Dean. Dean’s voice soon came into the conversation. Sam and I had both zoned it out at that point. 

“Kid, there actually is something I have been meaning to ask you,” I nodded at him to continue. “Why do you come here?'' The question stumped me. I knew why I shifted into their world everyday, why I sat anxiously in my last class waiting for the bell to ring so I could come here and be with them. Why I hold in a tiny breath every time I start to shift, praying that this still works. I had just never had to put those feelings into words. Now all of the words I was  thinking felt wrong. Like the weight of them didn’t match the weight in my heart. 

“Not that we don’t love to have you here Y/N. I mean we wait around all morning for you to get here. I just don’t understand why. You’ve told us about your world. There are no monsters or demons or angels in your world. No looming apocalypse every year or death waiting around the corner. You are safe there, so why come here?” 

They waited for me, they sat here anxiously waiting to see if I would show up. That’s why I came here, I thought. 

“I matter here, Sammy,” he looked confused at me, his puppy dogs eyes shining through. “At home I am always second best. You know the friend you talk to after your first friend said no. Or the filler friend until you can find someone better to replace me. I am average in my classes and just in life in general, but here; I matter. I am on Team Free Will, saving the earth.” My voice starts to lose its edge and volume. “I am truly loved here, you and Dean and Cas make everything better. I guess because you care about me so deeply, that it makes me care about myself. So you’re right, no death threatening event in my world, but also, no you. No Dean. No Cas. Hell I would appreciate Crowley being in my world.” We both let out a laugh that dies down quickly as we soak up the new knowledge we were each given. 

Sam suddenly had that protective big brother look on his face, the one that was normally displayed on Dean's face. It felt weird to go from being the one that cares and makes sure everyone is okay to being looked at like a fragile being that someone else is willing to hold together while you fall apart. I cried the first time Dean looked at me like that, I wanted to be mad and tell him piss off that. I didn’t need a big brother to watch over me. I had gone my whole life without one, but the truth was, I desperately needed a big brother and now I am realizing, I needed two. 

“Don’t tell Dean though, don't need him getting all sappy on me.” We both let out a loud chuckle that rippled off the small bathroom walls. Sam leaned back into his laugh. 

Cold water jolted out of the shower head, spraying me directly in the chest. A gasp escaped me, as it soaked straight through my clothes. Sam’s laugh became nuclear, he seemed unbothered by the water that was slowly making it way to his side of the bath. Too distracted by my current shivering state. I pulled sharply at the edge of his flannel to catch him off guard. He fell forward, giving me just enough room to slip underneath him to the other side of the tub. The laughter stopped abruptly, the cold water knocking the air out of his lungs. It was my turn to let out a loud cackle. 

We were so caught up in the water war that we didn’t notice the lack of yelling followed by the loud sound of the front door slamming. Dean threw open the bathroom door. His mouth formed around words but stopped at the sight of me and Sam laying on the tub floor soaking wet, water still cascading down on top of us. His angry expression vanished.  

“What the hell are you guys doing?” I could tell that it was taking everything in him not to laugh at our position. He was putting on what me and Sam call his dad face, his face set in a stone cold serious expression. It always had a way of making you feel like you’re three years old and you just got caught cutting your siblings hair with the kitchen scissors. His eyes betrayed him though. There was a glimmer of light in them that said he wanted to laugh.  

“We are doing what you told us.” I squeaked, moving into an upright sitting position, smiling sheepishly at Dean. 

“I told you guys to hide in the bathroom, not create a tsunami in the tub.” Sammy let out a bark of a laugh that was silenced by Dean's crossed arms. My lips curled involuntarily inward to stop my own laughter from spilling into the room. 

Sam now stood, making me so tiny on the bathtub floor, alone surrounded by two giants. I stood to suppress that feeling. It didn’t work. I was always a foot or so shorter than the boys even while standing. The water now hit the top of my head, spraying around me. 

“What did you expect Dean? We were in here for thirty minutes while that girl screamed about the ‘night of love making’ you two shared and how you had one with her friend two days later. We got bored.” Sam reached up and moved the shower head so it was now pointed at the very front of the tub. 

“Yeah,” Dean reached around and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry you had to hear that kid.” I gave him a real smile followed by a shrug of my shoulders. I knew Dean was a player, I could have gone without the details, but I am not scarred for life or anything.  

“Hey, what about me? I deserve an apology.” 

“You deserve nothing.” Dean pointed an accusatory finger at Sam. “I told you that was her friend the other night at the bar, ‘No Dean, her friend was shorter with lighter hair’.” He mocked Sam's voice as he turned around in a small circle to face the opposite wall. Sam bumped his shoulder into mine lightly. Looking up I saw a mischievous grin displayed on his face, he was holding the shower head in his hand. He gave a short nod towards Dean, before mouthing a wordless countdown. 

“You no good dirty bastard!” I yelled when he got to one. Dean whirled around fast, confusion riddled his whole body. Sam was quick to lift the shower head up, spraying Dean straight in the face. His face the moment the water hit was priceless, he was truly in disbelief. 

“You two are asking for it.” Dean growled, lunging towards us. 

I quickly tried to jump out of the tub, unfortunately so did Sam. We crashed into each other landing on the tile floor, a heap of legs and elbows. Sam manages to catch my head in his palm before it smacks the ground. The room echoes with laughter, each of us wet, cold, and unbelievably happy. 

“Alright we need dry clothes or we will all catch pneumonia.” Sam says breaking the laughter. 

“Like that would kill a Winchester. Right kid?” Dean splashes water in my direction, I laughed nodding my head. My heart was growing as Sam threw a towel around my shoulders. 

I could stand being Y/N Y/L/N in my world as long as I got to be Y/N Winchester here.

[let-it-raines]

What a Wicked Game {14/15}

Killian met her in a pub on a rainy night in March. Going inside was only supposed to be a way for him to avoid the rain and fight off the demons in his head. It was a place for him to pass through, not stay. But then he was charmed by a blonde woman with a quick wit who had absolutely no interest in him or who he was.

That was a first. It was also the beginning of Emma Nolan helping to bring him back to life. It was the beginning of everything.

Five years later, with their worlds crumbling around them, Killian can’t help but wonder if this is the end of the peace they have known now that his family knows about his relationship. It wouldn’t be a problem if his father wasn’t the King of England.

rating: mature

a/n: all my thanks to @captainswanbigbang​, @resident-of-storybrooke​, @captainsjedi​, and all of you! I hope you enjoy this nice little snapshot to the future that is 100% a homage to the original insane “epilogue” 😘

ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |

-/-

December 2020

Emma’s in a white dress made of ornate lace and the most intricate beading work she’s ever seen. The material hugs her body, accentuating the curve of her waist and falling to her wrists where they stop so that the rings on her hands are visible. There are three now, two on the left hand and one on the right. Her hair is falling down her back in long, perfectly curled waves, and half of it is pinned back with a diamond barrette that almost perfectly matches the tiara gracing the top of her head. A veil is attached to it, and it wraps around her body and all the way down to the ground, the lace surrounding the edges of it.

She’s wearing a tiara.

Like, a tiara worth hundreds of thousands of dollars that she wore on top of her head for hours.

It was a year and a half ago and she’s worn plenty of nice jewelry since, but there’s something about looking at the pictures hanging in their hallway that still makes Emma stop in her tracks to stare at them.

It’s the nice clothes at first, her wedding dress and Killian’s black Naval uniform that he looked so handsome in, but then it’s the smiles on their faces, the true happiness written into their lips. Their foreheads are pressed together in this one, and while their lips aren’t touching, they nearly are. Killian’s eyes are crinkled, the lines prominent, and Emma remembers him telling her some awful dirty joke that had the photographer blushing and Emma laughing until tears were flowing from her eyes.

(They’d had to touch up her makeup, and it took forever because she couldn’t seem to stop laughing at her husband.)

Their wedding was on a sunny day at the beginning of June, and most of it was a blur. Emma’s stomach was in knots for the majority of the day, not because she was nervous about getting married. It was more over having to be in front of hundreds of people in the Chapel and millions more on television, as well as having to spend half of her day with Brennan. Thankfully, he stayed away from them as much as he could, seemingly respecting them enough to let them have their day without his disapproval and overall shitty attitude. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever done for her, letting her have that day.

It was a great day.

“Who the hell is that handsome bastard in the portrait you’re staring at, darling?”

Emma huffs and turns to look at Killian only for him to come up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, tugging her back into him before laying sloppy kisses all across her jaw and down her neck that has her stomach flipping. He’s always doing that.

“You’re so conceited.”

“Confident.”

“Eh.”

He nips at her ear, and she sighs back into him, letting heat simmer in her belly even if she knows that they can’t do anything about it right now. They don’t have time.

“You have to learn that my confidence is warranted. How could it not be when my wife makes noises like you just made when I barely brush my lips over her jaw?”

“I’m not helping your ego grow by answering that.”

Killian rolls his hips into hers, grinding into her ass, all while kissing her ear again, lavishing the sensitive spot that causes her flesh to pebble, and she just knows that he has a dumb joke in his brain about making something else grow. He’s thirty-one years old, and the amount of erection jokes that he makes is ridiculous. Granted, ninety percent of the time she wants to hear them, but that’s entirely beside the point.

“Killian,” she moans when his tongue licks along the shell of her ear while his fingers ghost over her stomach and up toward the underside of her breast, “we don’t have t-time. We’ve got to go to Sandringham in fifteen minutes. The car is scheduled to take us to the train station.”

“Fifteen minutes is plenty of time.”

“I haven’t finished packing.”

“I suppose you’ll simply have to walk around in the nude since kissing you is the only thing I can think of doing at this moment.”

Emma laughs, but then she’s turning her head to kiss him. Their lips collide together softly, and Emma twists her body until her hands are grabbing onto the lapels of his shirt, pulling him closer to him. His mouth is warm against hers, and it sends another thrill down her spine, curling around each inch of her. His erection is hotly pressing into her thigh through his jeans, and she feels it even more when Killian backs her up to the wall behind them. When she parts her lips for him, his tongue quickly flickers into her mouth, she follows his lead, eager to feel him in every way that she can.

It’s been eight years of this, eight years of her entire body thrumming and of Emma wanting him, and while there are days that it wanes and days where just looking at his face annoys her, it’s mostly like this.

Loving him is the easiest decision she’s ever made.

Choosing to be with him despite all of the insane highs and deep lows is the best choice she’s ever made.

Killian’s a good one. No, the best one.

(And she’s not biased at all.)

She grinds into him and groans against his mouth when he hits a particularly good spot, and in the haze of his fervent kisses, she reaches down between them until she’s fumbling with the button on his jeans and popping it open all the while Killian mutters filthy curses into her mouth.

“What happened to not having time?”

“Shut up.”

“I love it when you speak to me like that.”

“You are - ”

He doesn’t let her finish, not when his lips are slamming back into hers, and he’s kissing her so deeply that Emma can’t breathe or think or even focus on anything other than the feel and smell of Killian and the way his fingers are tugging her leggings down until the warm air of the apartment is hitting against her skin.

“God, I love you,” Killian murmurs into her jaw while his hands hook under her ass and urge her to wrap her legs around his waist.

“What are you doing? Are you seriously trying to show off athletic prowess right now?”

His hands squeeze on her ass, and he feels her smirking into her skin. The bastard.

“Absolutely, I am. I can’t wait to be sore tomorrow.”

Emma’s head tilts back with her laughter even as Killian slowly enters hers, stretching her the slightest bit while her arms tighten around his neck and her legs curl even further around his waist. He better not drop her. One time he did, and they should really find a couch or something. They’ve got at least fifteen in this damn place.

But then it just feels too damn good just like this. It’s hard and fast, their bodies completely pressed together, and all of Emma’s thoughts are blurred and mixed in with Killian’s muttered curses and her harsh pants and then their mouths finding each other once more. They’re close enough that Emma’s on edge already, each of his thrusts brushing her exactly where she needs him, and her eyes squeeze more tightly shut when she begins to fall, letting Killian’s encouragements guide her until she’s there.

Damn, Jones.

He must finish quickly afterwards, his legs nearly collapsing so that the both of them fall to the ground, but he manages to keep hold of them, supporting her.

“Thanks for not dropping me on my ass.” Killian huffs into her neck at her words, and she feels him loosen his grip on her so that she’s tightening her legs and gasping as he tries to drop her. “That’s not funny!”

“I found it funny.”

“How is dropping me to the ground funny? Aren’t you supposed to love me and cherish me or whatever?”

He leaves a warm, open-mouthed kiss on the side of her neck before pulling back so that she can see the ridiculous blue of his eyes. She’ll never quite get over them. “I do love you, which is why I haven’t asked you to get down yet even though my legs feel rather flimsy right now.”

Emma kisses the top of his head before unwrapping her legs and slowly falling to the ground, her own legs shaky. “I love you, too. We should probably go clean ourselves up and pretend that we weren’t just fucking five minutes before we got in the car to go to your family’s Christmas celebrations.”

“‘Tis the season and all.” Killian kisses her again, this time slow and unbelievably soft. Those are always her favorite. “Thanks for marrying me, darling. You’re just as beautiful today as you are in all of these pictures.”

“I’m not currently wearing pants.”

“That’s the way I like you.”

He’s an idiot...who she loves so damn much.

-/-

Celebrating Christmas with Killian’s family is weird.

There’s really no other way for her to describe it. For one, they spend at least five days having to circle around Brennan, which is hard enough as it is. He’s never going to approve of her and never going to love Killian the way a dad should, but at least he isn’t outwardly hostile to them anymore. It’s more of a quiet simmer with subtle rude comments that are made when Allison is out of earshot, and as awkward and uncomfortable as it is, Emma will take it. This is how it is, and there’s so much more to Killian’s family than his dad.

Allison, for one, is the sweetest woman alive who tries to make up for all of her husband’s downfalls (Emma still thinks she should divorce Brennan, but she knows it won’t ever happen. Appearances and all that. It’s also none of Emma’s business), and she’s taken Emma under her wing in the past two years, teaching her everything there is to know about royal life even though Killian and Emma both decided to not be as prominent as Liam and Elsa. They still work, are nearly always out and about working with some kind of charity they’re passionate about, but they’re not into all of the frills and the publicity.

Her accident still haunts her, the attacks of the media that occur every day following right behind, and it’s the reason they’re having a house built in Bucklebury so that they can have some privacy away from all of the business of living in Kensington. Emma’s doing her best, but she does not accept having to stop caring for her own life and her own wants simply because of who her husband’s family is.  

It’s still so odd, Emma thinks. She fell in love with this wonderful, normal guy, and now she’s wandering around on an estate in formal wear to celebrate Christmas instead of lounging around in her pajamas eating junk food with her parents.

Her parents who are never invited to come for the holiday celebrations and who she misses dearly and will be going to see on the night of the twenty-fifth.

But besides having to spend time with Brennan, Emma also has to spend time with all of Killian’s cousins and aunts and uncles who she can never remember the names of despite her best efforts, and follow even more insane rules about what to wear and what silverware to use and what kind of presents to give. Killian held her hand throughout this entire week last year to help her learn, and he’s having to do the same this year. Though, she’s better at it now. She’s not a total fumbling fool.

Just a little one.

But she does know to always find Killian or Liam and Elsa, and if all else fails, she can spend time with Alex and Lizzie and be completely and totally charmed by their adorableness. Seriously. Emma thinks they might be the cutest kids alive, and she’s not biased at all because she’s their aunt. Alex is somehow four now even though she swears he was just two, and he’s the funniest child Emma has ever met. Lizzie is much quieter, more of an observer than anything else, but whenever she sees Emma, she runs to her and stretches her arms out so that Emma can scoop her up into Emma’s arms.

It absolutely makes Emma’s heart swell.

“Darling,” Killian calls out to her, and Emma’s head twists around to see Killian standing across the dining room from her in his tux, “would you come here for a moment?”

Emma turns back to the cousin - Rachel, she thinks - she was just talking to and excuses herself from the conversation to walk toward Killian, who is undeniably saving her before she got swooped away to talk to someone else.

“Thank you,” she whispers into Killian’s ear once she’s close enough, pressing her lips to the underside of his jaw and leaving a mark of red lipstick.

He kisses her temple and lazily loops his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Darling, I was just telling Liam that you were going to be on my football team tomorrow, and that he can’t draft you for his team first.”

Emma tilts her head and looks at Liam and Elsa. “Isn’t it Liam’s turn to have first pick? You had it last year.”

“Liam gave it to me last year,” Killian says, his eyes pointed at Liam, “even though it was his year. This year is technically still my year.”

“Rubbish. When I gave you first pick it was a gift because you were a newlywed, but we’re still supposed to switch off years.”

“No, this is still my year. Last year was a gift, and I did not agree to give up my pick.”

“I’ve just said that it’s not!”

Elsa rolls her eyes, and Emma brings her bottom lip between her teeth to bite. Seeing the boys be friends is never not refreshing, but it’s also obnoxious. They bicker all of the time in this friendly but obnoxious way, and if Elsa and Emma were to walk away, neither of them would notice.

“Babe,” Emma laughs, rubbing her hand up and down Killian’s back, “just give Liam the first pick. He’s not going to pick me. He’ll want to pick someone who’s actually good so he can beat you.”

“She makes a good point, little brother,” Liam says.

“Younger. It’s younger, and fine, you can have the first pick.”

-/-

Liam picks her first for the football game the next day.

Killian plays the entire game with murder in his eyes even if he immediately picked Elsa so Liam couldn’t have her on his team.

All’s fair in love and annual Christmas football matches.

(She and Liam totally kick Killian’s ass.)

-/-

When Emma wakes, she rolls over and checks her phone.

3:01 AM, December 25th, 2020.

It’s the middle of the night...or the morning, and she shouldn’t be awake. She’s got at least four more hours left of sleep, and she should not be awake. It’s been pretty much non-stop for the four days they’ve been at Sandringham, and she should be exhausted. Mostly, though, she’s hungry.

“Killian,” Emma whispers, reaching across the bed to poke his bicep. “Killian, wake up.”

He grunts and twists his head until she can see one eye open while the rest of his face is squished. “What?”

His voice is gritty and deep, and she’s really got to wake him up more if he’s going to sound like that. “How do I get to the kitchen?”

“What?”

“Where’s the kitchen?”

Killian twists again until he’s blinking at her and rubbing his hand up and down his face. “What time is it?”

“It’s three in the morning, and I’m starving. I have never figured out how to get to the kitchen in this place.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Killian grunts and rolls over, throwing the covers off of him before standing from the bed and pulling his pajamas up on his waist so they’re not hanging indecently low any longer. “Come on. I’ll take you down there.”

“You’re my favorite person in the world.”

He grunts again and starts walking away, not bothering to find a shirt or shoes, and Emma quickly follows. She’s also got to pee right now, but asking Killian to wait might not be her best option when he doesn’t seem too thrilled about her waking him up in the middle of the night. She gets it. She wouldn’t be thrilled either.

All of the hallways are dark, but Killian easily navigates them, twisting and turning and taking several different staircases until he’s pushing through a set of double doors and they’re entering an industrial kitchen that doesn’t at all mix with the rest of this house.

Emma literally has no idea how they got down here.

“What do you want to eat, love?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Nope. What do we have?” He opens the fridge, and she steps into his space until she’s looking inside as well at what looks like a hell of a lot of baked goods that they can’t eat. They’re probably for something else. “Can we eat any of this?”

“I think the baked goods are Mum’s gifts to the staff to take home to their families, but I can make you something. Do you want a grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Do you even know me at all?”

Killian laughs, but then he’s reaching forward and grabbing cheese and butter and moving away from the fridge, shuffling around and getting everything that he needs. When she offers to make it herself since this was her idea and Killian doesn’t even like grilled cheese, he tells her that he’s got it if she can make him some tea. They’re probably not going to sleep again, so they might as well get some caffeine.

Caffeine and maybe some cookie dough that she found in the freezer.

(She can’t help herself.)

“You know,” Emma yawns, “I used to be up at three in the morning all the time, but now I can’t do it.”

“It’s because you’re getting old, darling.”

“Says the man who is in his thirties, meanwhile I can still say that I’m in my twenties for ten more months.”

“And then once you hit that thirty mark, you’ll officially be old.”

“I will not be old. Thirty isn’t old. That’s a social construct.”

“It’s too early in the morning to be focusing on things like that.”

“True,” Emma sighs, taking a sip of her tea while Killian plates her sandwich, sliding it over to her with a napkin. It smells freaking amazing. “Thank you for this.”

“It’s no problem. You’ll burn your mouth if you eat it right now.”

“Some things are worth the risk.”

Killian chuckles and leans forward to grab his own tea, taking a large gulp. “I wouldn’t get up at three in the morning to cook for anyone else. I hope you know that.”

“I do know that. I wouldn’t wake anyone else up to make me food at three in the morning. Though, I really only needed you to show me where the kitchen was. I didn’t need you to cook.”

“It’s not a problem. You’re suffering through Christmas with my family for the second year in a row. This is literally the least I can do.”

Emma finishes chewing her bite before leaning forward over the counter to press her lips into Killian’s. “I’m happy to do most everything that I have to do as your wife. It’s weird and definitely not how I ever imagined my life, but I wear a hell of a lot of Spanx for you. That’s true love.”

His eyes crinkle, and Emma is so incredibly charmed by him and his stupidly mussed hair and sleepy smile. It’s kind of ridiculous, but she loves that smile and the way his hair can’t be contained when he hasn’t combed through it.

“And I make you the grossest sandwich in existence.”

“It’d only be the grossest if it involved mayonnaise and tuna or something.”

“This is true.” It’s Killian’s turn to lean over the counter until his lips are brushing across the tip of her nose. “I truly am thankful for you and not simply because you wear Spanx for me and heels that make your feet scream.”

“Yeah, babe,” Emma sighs, her heart content. “I know.”

“Merry Christmas, Swan.”

“Merry Christmas, my love. Should we steal some more cookie dough?”

-/-

February 2021

“This is weird.”

“What is? Being here?”

“Yep,” Emma hums as she looks out the window and sees the congested streets of Manhattan. “I don’t know...I knew it would be different to be back in America, but it’s just - I don’t know. I’ve only been to New York three times, so it’s not like it’s somewhere I spent a lot of time. Driving on this side of the road is kind of freaking me out.”

Killian huffs, but then his fingers are twining together with hers and he’s pulling her knuckles to his lips to kiss right above her wedding band. “We’ve been in America for a week, darling. I feel like you should be used to it by now.”

“Yeah,” she yawns, “I know, but honestly, I can’t tell you what we’ve done this week. It’s all a sleep-deprived blur. What are we even doing today?”

“I believe we’re going to a basketball game to meet with some children and promote the North American opening of Kidding A Goal, and then tomorrow we have several charities we’re visiting before a meeting with our U.S. diplomats.”

“And then we go home?”

“No, then we have the function at NYU. I’m giving a speech, but after that, I believe we’re going home. We’ll have to ask Ariel when we get to the hotel. I’m sure she’ll have everything mapped out to the exact minute.” Emma yawns again before her eyes flutter closed and she’s lulled into drowsiness. “Emma?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you need to stay in the hotel tonight and sleep? No one would blame you if you missed the game.”

She scoffs. There are literally thousands, probably millions of people who would blame her. Brennan would be the first person, and then all of the people who already hate her would be right in line after him. She’s been hailed as some kind of American princess for years now, and all of their aides and publicists have been marketing this visit with her returning to her roots or something.

Los Angeles, Atlanta, and New York City aren’t exactly her roots.

But this is her life. She loves it even when she hates it. She can roll with the punches.

“I’m fine,” Emma promises. “Of all of the things we’ve had to do on this tour, I think going to a basketball game might be the easiest.”

-/-

The basketball game takes forever.

Seriously. How can a game that’s slated to last a certain amount of time exceed that time by hours? Either be like tennis where you have no idea how long it’s going to take or like football (soccer) where when the time is set, it usually stays that way.

This is why she’s never liked this sport.

And really, the entire time that they’re there, one of the publicists from the team talks down to her like she doesn’t know what’s going on. Granted, she doesn’t know all the rules, but there’s a difference between explaining something and talking down to someone. But it’s all fine and good, and she and Killian have a nice experience sitting courtside and stuffing their face with popcorn while sweaty men with squeaking sneakers run by them. Afterwards (and during honestly) there are a million and two photo ops, but Emma likes getting to talk to all of the kids that are there for them and for the game. They’re all adorable, and they give her and Killian matching jerseys that she feels like Killian is definitely going to be wearing more often than he should.

He seems to like basketball more than she does, but maybe she’d enjoy it more if she wasn’t so exhausted that she could fall asleep standing up.

They probably don’t get back to the hotel until two in the morning, and when they do, Killian promptly kisses her goodnight and then falls asleep.

Emma doesn’t.

Because, of course, she can’t fall asleep, and when their alarm goes off the next morning and Killian rolls over in bed to kiss the side of her neck, lingering there as he whispers sweet words against her skin, all Emma can think is that she only got two interrupted hours of sleep.

Her makeup artist is going to kill her.

If Emma doesn’t fall out from exhaustion first.

Several cups of coffee and a hell of a lot of concealer later, however, she’s good to go for another day of representing her new country to her old country.

Life gets weirder every day.

She’d do it all over again in a heartbeat for Killian.

-/-

“Love, have you packed our toiletries already?”

“Love?”

“Emma?”

There’s a tap against her shoulder, and Emma jumps, blinking several times until Killian’s blurry face comes into clearer view so that she can see the blue of his eyes and the scar on his cheek.

“Emma, darling, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, waving him away and grabbing a pair of leggings out of the drawer. There’s no way she’s flying home in actual pants. That’s too long of a flight for anything that doesn’t have a soft elastic waist. She’s also wearing comfortable shoes because she’s going to boycott heels for a month. “Did you need something?”

Killian’s head tilts while his brows furrow. “I was asking if you’d packed away our toiletries. I’d like to brush my teeth again after drinking coffee, but I can’t seem to find the bags.”

“Really?” She begins to walk across the suite in their hotel room toward the bathroom. “Because they should be on the vanity. I haven’t packed them up yet. I - ”

Her feet catch in the carpet as her head suddenly begins to spin, and not for the first time in the last few days, Emma feels light-headed. But this is different. She can’t focus on anything, every object around her a pixelated version of itself, and before she can grab onto a blurred version of a dresser, she’s falling to the ground with the sound of Killian’s voice echoing behind her.

-/-

-/-

I did say this was pretty much like that original epilogue, didn’t I? Sorry to all of you newbies 😘🙈

tag list: @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @shardminds​ @captainsjedi​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @owlways-and-forever​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @397bartonstreet​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @scarletslippers​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @captainswanbigbang​

[wowweeharrystyles]

Part 11 | Fringe & Change | 7.2k words

Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Masterlist

a/n: 6 weeks later & we’re finally back !!!! thank you all for your patience & thanks to gwen for listening to me complain about writers block week after week. I’m very excited to get back to sharing this story with y’all. 

as always, reblogging helps a ton & comments & feedback are ALWAYS WELCOME !!!! 

Warnings: brief mentions of anxiety & panic attacks 

Here’s part 11 ! 

Aurora’s standing next to Harry, a drink in her hand when Niall launches into “Drag Me Down.” She flashes Harry the biggest grin before singing along, just as she has with every song. Harry smiles back at her, she doesn’t see it but he doesn’t care. He finds himself singing along to a song he used to sing night after night on stage. It’s strange to watch Niall sing his own version and Harry figures Niall felt the same when he sang his own arrangement of their old tunes back in Dublin. Harry looks back to Aurora. She can feel his eyes on her but waits for the song to end before turning to him. 

Her fingers are delicate and barely touch Harry’s neck as she reaches up to him. Her lips brush against his ear before she speaks. “I miss your bit at the end,” Aurora shares and Harry chuckles lowly. She doesn’t pull away though and Harry takes the opportunity to pull her into him with an arm around her waist. His fingers find where the hem of Aurora’s shirt meets the top of her jeans. As Aurora presses her lips to the warm skin of Harry’s neck she can feel his calloused fingertips press into her skin. 

“Havin’ fun, love?” Harry assures. Aurora doesn’t have to verbally respond because the smile on her face after pressing another lingering kiss to the base of his neck says it all. 

Aurora feels warm and it’s not just because of the hot humid air of Buenos Aires. It’s the heat that's radiating from where Harry’s hand is pressed against her skin. The heat that flushes the tops of her cheeks from the cheap alcohol. The heat in her jaw because she hasn't stopped smiling for the better part of 2 hours. She gets to see Harry perform live almost daily, she gets that concert feeling every night, but to share it with him is something different. To share this experience in the traditional way for the first time is another one of those moments she’ll look back on forever. 

Many things are similar to the aftermath of Harry’s shows - showing their passes to the security guard at the gate near the stage, the ringing in Aurora’s ears from the screams, the scratchy feeling in her throat from singing (badly, at that), the buzzing feeling that lingers in her body from the music. The difference is the feeling of Harry’s hand in hers as they slide backstage to find Niall. 

Aurora also notices the striking difference between Niall’s backstage post show and Harry’s. Niall and Harry may have done this together years ago, running off stage together and onto a crammed tour bus but they’ve both found their own way on their own. It's a different kind of loud and chaotic after Niall’s show. Niall’s band is following him to a large green room that is equally as rowdy as a group of guys headed into a party. They’re high off the show and honestly so are Aurora and Harry. 

“So how’d ya enjoy the show?” Niall asks, his Irish accent thick, before taking a chug of water. 

“Rory enjoyed it the most I think. Belted out every single word,” Harry answers as he tucks Aurora into his side. Aurora crosses her arms in front of her in lieu of wrapping one around his waist. 

Niall’s dropped to the couch, his chest still heaving from the performance. 

“Hey,” Aurora whines as Harry and Niall laugh together. “You didn’t miss too many lyrics yourself, Har,” she playfully bites back. 

“Know all the words to my album, Haz? That’s what I like to hear.” 

“Don’t trust a thing she says,” Harry jokes before kissing the top of Aurora’s head. Niall’s laughter echoes off the walls. 

“Hey, I’d be a bit nicer to Aurora. I like her quite a bit. Don’t want you to chase her away so soon,” Niall advises with a wink to Harry. 

“Unfortunately, I think it’d take a lot more than that to chase me away,” Aurora tells Niall. “Anyways, who else is gonna get him dressed?” Niall’s laughing again and his band joins in, Aurora as well. Harry rolls his eyes trying to subside his own laugh but eventually joins in. 

Aurora relaxes into one of the leather covered chairs and Harry sits on the wide arm rest when Niall asks them if they want to stay for a bit and have beer or 2. Aurora leans forward to rest her elbows on Harry’s knees, her chest falling against his thigh. Harry presses the cold bottle of beer to the back of Aurora’s bare neck making her jump from the sudden change in temperature. He switches the bottle to the opposite and lightly digs his fingers into the muscles in Aurora's shoulders. Bending down he kisses her temple before whispering, “We can go whenever you want,” softly, reassuringly. 

Aurora’s extent of her anxiety had been brought up in conversation a few nights ago, Harry wanting to be able to help or at least do what he can to subside it if possible. Nobody had ever asked her how they could help or understood enough to want to know more. Her parents tried to understand, they really did, but something to do with the generational gap made it hard for them to really get it, to believe it even. So when Harry asked about it out of nowhere Aurora was shocked. 

She explained what it's like in different ways and how it comes about. The social anxiety aspect of new people and new places is what triggered Harry’s question just now. She told him about how she’ll feel trapped like she can’t go anywhere and she doesn’t want to create a scene, doesn’t want to offend anyone by leaving. She talked about the anxiety she had from the thought of a new hotel room and new arena every day before she left New York. But she was pleasantly surprised when it felt okay, that the faces became familiar and even though they were new arena’s daily, the pink flowers and TPWK signs became comforting. Harry’s heart swelled when Aurora shared the last bit. After she answered all his questions and told him about how she copes and what he can do that would make it easier, better even, Aurora thanked him. She thanked him over and over again when she crawled into his lap. She thanked him as she pulled off his shirt and kissed the swallow tattoos on his chest. She thanked him when she sank down on him. She shared everything that night, her mind, her body, all of it. She had never felt so understood, so safe.

Harry can tell Aurora’s in another world, squeezing her shoulder, he says her name softly. She looks up to him, a hint of worry in his eyes. She smiles, the memory of nights prior still floating in her head. The worry washes away when Aurora takes his hand that’s on her shoulder and presses a kiss to the palm of it. 

“I’m good right now,” she reassures him. “Thanks for asking.” 

“What're you thinking ‘bout?” 

“I’ll tell ya later.” 

She does tell him later, after they’ve said their goodbyes to Niall, after the car ride back to the hotel, after they get into Harry’s hotel room. She tells him between kisses. She tells him how nobody has ever said “we can go whenever you want” in any way and meant it. She tells him how she was thinking about how she thanked him and how she couldn't stop thinking about it. 

It doesn’t take them long to rid each other of their clothes. It was early morning by the time they fell asleep, their bodies sticky with sweat but too tired to shower now. 

Morning comes too fast and Harry groans into the back of Aurora’s neck when the alarm goes off. He turns away from her, his arm sliding from her waist to call room service. Aurora only pays enough attention to make sure he orders plenty of coffee and then lets herself succumb to sleep again. 

She wakes up only a little bit later when there’s a knock on the door. Harry’s curls hang heavy from his shower and Aurora can’t help but giggle as he tries to blow some of the curls from his forehead as he sets her coffee on the bedside table nearest her. 

After Harry and her eat breakfast, Harry has to jump on a call and Aurora decides to shower back in her own hotel room where her suitcase still is. Considering they had spent most of the past 10 days together, the morning and afternoon apart is nice. She takes a nap and catches up on a few shows, somewhat of a normal day for her. 

Aurora is excited to get back to the shows. To get back to seeing Harry on stage, to seeing Helene, to tour life again. It may have only been just over a week but she misses it. She gets it now, when Harry talks about touring being his favourite part. Aurora’s surprised how much she loves it. 

| | | | |

Aurora’s in the middle of sending a text message when Harry comes from nowhere and pulls her along with a tight grip on her hand. Aurora’s eyebrows furrow as a giggle leaves her mouth after his name does. When she gets a good look at him she smiles. He’s preemptively put on his black St Laurent trousers for his show tonight in Santiago but instead of the green glittery shirt he’s meant to be wearing, he has a white Treat People With Kindness t-shirt tucked in. 

“Come on, Angel,” he says with a smile as he walks them through the hall. The music and noise from the audience grows. 

“Harry, where’re we going?” Aurora almost shouts so he can hear her over the ever growing music. He flashes her a smirk, a dimple showing up. 

He nods his head at one of the security guards at a double door and they open a door for them. Aurora thanks the guard with a smile before getting pulled along behind Harry. He slows his pace so she can catch up with him. Once she’s standing by his side, his hand drops from hers and throws his arm around her shoulders. He leads Aurora the rest of the way to where a set of metal stairs lead to the stage. Aurora smiles up at Harry when they stop. He quickly kisses her cheek and his arm slides further over her shoulders, his hand hanging off casually. Harry hums along to ‘Shy’ as Leon Bridges performs on stage. 

Though a moment like this isn’t deemed normal by most, it feels completely and utterly normal for Harry and Aurora. Both loving the time spent together at Niall’s show, they grasp onto that feeling - the feeling of music making them closer, reaching a new spot in their souls. He continues to hum and sing along throughout Leon’s set and Aurora finds herself closing her eyes, soothed by the live music and his low humming near her ear. 

Harry moves to stand directly behind Aurora, his hands sliding up and down Aurora’s arms while kissing the back of her neck as “Bet Ain’t Worth the Hand” finishes. As the audience cheers for Leon, his hands pause at her shoulders before falling forward, hovering over the front of Aurora casually. He sneaks a kiss behind Aurora’s ear and she giggles at the soft touch, her hands reaching up to settle on his forearms. Aurora turns her head just enough to leave a light kiss at the hinge of Harry’s jaw as “River” begins. 

She sighs, remembering the night in Harry's car in London,  her body relaxing completely into his. She can still remember the sparkle in his eye, even in the dark of the car, and the small smile when Aurora mentioned loving this specific song and her excitement to hear it live. 

There’s a warmth radiating off of Harry’s chest and spreading across Aurora’s back. She can feel the rattle of his chest from the vibrations of the speakers mixed with his quiet singing. His lips are centimeters from her ear. Every couple of words they brush against the shell of her ear, sending continuous shivers down Aurora’s spine. Aurora settles a kiss on his arm, on his bicep near his anatomical heart tattoo. Aurora lets her lips graze there for a moment, completely caught up in the music and the incredibly safe feeling she’s overwhelmed with being wrapped in Harry’s arms. The broadness of his shoulders and his height allows for him to completely envelope her when he crosses his arms over her chest, pulling her into his chest even more. Aurora continues to sink into his chest, melting into his t-shirt and feeling like there is no end to how far she can fall into him. Aurora can feel his slight scruff rub against her cheek every so often. The roughness mixed with the softness of his voice is a feeling that she can’t describe but it makes her heart beat a little faster. 

Harry sways every so often, perfectly in time with the strum of the guitar and rattle of the tambourine. The song is nearing the end and the audience is singing along with Leon, the lyrics echo through the arena. Aurora lets her hands drop from his arms and twists around to face him. She wraps her arms around his neck as his wrap around her waist, hands clasping his opposite elbows to pull her in closer. Her hips are square on his, a place she finds herself more often than not. Careful not to ruin the curls Ayae has already set in place, Aurora barely weaves her fingers in the hair at his neck. Harry brushes his nose against hers before he looks her in the eyes. The vocals coming from stage are just as vulnerable as they feel right now. Not a single person in the crew that is bustling around backstage is relevant to them right now. Aurora and Harry feel as if they are the only people standing there in the dark, Leon singing to them and only them. They meet in the middle, Harry’s lips taking in Aurora’s bottom one first. The kiss is slow and deep. When Harry pulls away barely a millimeter it’s only to tilt his head to deepen the kiss. 

A 4 minute song. A moment for just the 2 of them. A memory from weeks ago. Aurora wishes somehow that there was a way that she could have 2 Harry’s - one to perform his show on stage and one to love on as she enjoyed the show. Show him how much she loves him. How much she loves listening to him, watching him perform. She’ll have to think of more ways to show how much moments like these mean to her. Ways to show him how she wishes she could hold him as he sang has heart out. Show him how he really is that shining light. 

And that’s when the opening lyrics of “River” hit Aurora. Lyrics she’s heard a million times. 

“Been traveling these wide roads for so long

My heart's been far from you

Ten-thousand miles gone”

It may be a spiritually inspired song, but for Aurora, especially in this moment with Harry's lips on hers, it's all about them. Coming from miles away from each other, only to travel thousands and thousands of miles together. Hearts finally feeling safe again. 

| | | | |

The stage set up is different for the South American leg. Without the rising screen, Harry walks on stage in full view as the opening of ‘Only Angel’ begins. The second he’s on the stage, the minimal lights that are shining on the stage catch the sparkle of the rhinestones that cover each strip of fringe. He faces Sarah’s drum kit, takes a swig of water then raises his arms out to the side showcasing the beautiful detail of his jacket - fringe hanging down from his arms and a row across his back. . Aurora can’t help but smile and the second he turns around as the music kicks off there’s a giant smile on Harry’s face as well. 

Aurora’s standing off to the side of the pit, leaning against the wall of the tunnel that leads you in and out of the arena. She sinks her hands into the pockets of her pants as a sigh leaves her lips. Subconsciously, she sings along, song after song. She admires the way he almost saunters across the stage, how he effortlessly draps his hands on the mic stand, the way his hair, even when completely disheveled, is always just so, how he exudes confidence and inclusion, how his voice transports the entire audience to a new place. 

During ‘Ever Since New York’ he has to stop singing a few times because he can’t avoid the smile that appears on his face. It makes it impossible to sing the lyrics and Aurora smiles too. She knows that smile. He’s explained it before, it’s like he can’t believe what he’s seeing in front of him, can’t believe it’s real. 

Aurora’s heart feels heavy in her chest every time he slows down and sings ‘Meet Me In The Hallway’. The care and focus that goes into every note. The pained look on his face that she wants nothing more than to erase. The softness of his closed eyes contradict the tension in his jaw when the words “you left me in the hallway” come floating out of his mouth and echo through the arena. 

He’s back on the main stage, guitar slung over his shoulder after running back from the Bstage. Laughter rumbles through the audience every so often during ‘Anna” as the fringe on his sleeve gets stuck on the pins at the bridge, then again on the strings. It doesn’t faze him though, he keeps going like it really didn’t happen. He does laugh at himself after the song ends, trying to talk with the audience but his habit of talking with his hands fires back at him. The fringe becomes somewhat of a spectacle after he has to yank it from the opening of the guitar when he eventually takes it off. 

The fringe really adds to the chaos of Harry’s dancing during ‘What Makes You Beautiful.’ The rhinestones catch every light and just like many times before, he’s his own disco ball it seems. He tries to clip the mic back into its stand while he sings the chorus again, but the fringe flies and gets trapped before the mic fits in it’s home. He shakes his head as he messes with it and continues singing. The smile that’s become permanent on his face only grows bigger. 

It’s during ‘The Chain’ and ‘Kiwi’ that she starts to see a few red strips of fabric fall to the floor. Aurora laughs for a bit as she watches Harry on stage but then it turns to a groan when she realises that she’ll have to fix the jacket for tomorrow. 

“Guess fringe on your sleeves wasn’t the most functional thing,” Aurora says to Harry as she takes the jacket off his shoulders. “Looks like you shredded a few and ripped some off when they got stuck on your guitar strings,” she laughs. 

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes. 

“No worries, I’ll just fix 'em tomorrow.” Aurora takes a closer look at the sleeves once it’s back on the hanger. “I could adjust it a bit if the fringey bits were annoying, just move them away from the cuff,” Aurora offers. 

“Didn’t really notice ‘em until they got snagged, but even then it didn’t bother me.” 

“Okay, let me know if you change your mind before I work on it tomorrow.” Harry hums. 

“You did really great tonight, feel like I don’t say it enough,” Aurora compliments, a feeling of guilt at the bottom of her stomach. She takes the trousers from Harry, hanging them up besides the jacket. “You always do great,” she adds. Harry doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Aurora can see in the mirror off to the side, his dimple sinking in and a smirk coming across his face. “Didn’t realise how much I truly love watching you on stage until this past week.” 

It wasn’t until Harry got back up on stage in Buenos Aires that Aurora realised how much she missed seeing him on stage. It wasn’t until then that she realised they’d be traveling back to the US and that they’re more than halfway through the tour. It’s not that she hadn’t been enjoying it. Aurora always gets this way when something is nearing the end. Like in the last semester of college and during the last few weeks of high school, she had gotten this weird feeling in her chest, something that almost resembled regret but she didn’t have too many regrets from high school or college. The same feeling appeared at the end of her internship with Harry Lambert, but there were absolutely no regrets then. She finally put it into words what this almost regretful, sad, deep feeling was. It was simply her not wanting change, not wanting to lose the familiarity of her current life. Why should things end when you’re enjoying them? Living in the moment, as cliche as it is, is what Aurora has to remind herself--remind herself to enjoy what’s happening right now rather than what will come later. So here she is, after watching him perform on stage, a range of emotions flowing through her, all interrupting what she’s trying to get out. How does she tell the rockstar in front of her that she loves him in every sense of the word. That she loves him on and off stage. How does she explain that she thinks she’s scared of what the end of the tour will bring. And at the end of the day, how does she, Aurora Marie Del Gatto from a small suburb in New York, get to love the rockstar that performs on stage every night to thousands of people and the man that is so inherently down to earth and loving? 

Aurora takes his sweaty white button down from him and hangs that up as well and instead of bringing up what’s actually running through her head she says, “Should wear the black button down tomorrow, I’ll get the white one dry cleaned when we get to the US.” 

She turns to Harry as he’s pulling down a black t-shirt over his stomach. He runs a hand through the mess of hair on his head, a soft smile on his relaxed face. The look he gives her organizes her brain in an instant it feels like.“I always knew I loved watching you on stage, but seeing you back up there-” she pauses and shakes her head. “Being with you is one thing,” she continues as she steps closer to him, a light touch of her hand along his jaw, “but seeing you up there… it’s something else.” Aurora’s other hand reaches for his face before she speaks again. “I’m- I’m- I don’t even know if I have the word to explain it properly.” A shake of her head like she’s rattling her unorganized thoughts around in her head.  “Proud of you,” she says simply before she presses her lips to his. Harry’s arms wrap around Aurora’s waist tightly, simultaneously bringing her closer to him and opening his mouth up to kiss her more. It’s Aurora who pulls away first, both of their chest rising and falling more than before. Her hands move from his face, then scratch at his back before she’s properly hugging him. Aurora’s arms are heavy on his shoulders and she feels his jaw move slightly as she noses at the vein in his neck. 

It could be 2 minutes or 2 hours later when Harry loosens his grip on Aurora, pulling away from her, his smile bright but tired. Harry hums as he kisses her temple. 

“I’m gonna make the rounds, quick,” he says, his voice gravelly and tired. 

“I promised Issac, I’d call him tonight.” Aurora’s mentioned Issac, her best friend from childhood, a few times to Harry. “He’s 2 hours behind us so it’s kind of a perfect time for him,” she explains. Besides her sister, Issac knows absolutely everything, maybe even more. He wasn’t the best with advice but he always listened. Issac and Aurora always joked about how they are pretty much the same person while they were growing up and even in adulthood not much has changed. 

“Oh yeah,” he says, remembering Aurora mentioning it earlier. “I’m sorry, just tired.” 

Aurora’s eyebrows furrow, “no need to be sorry.” She lifts a hand to his face, “get some rest, okay? and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she assures him. 

“Ror, thanks for uh-” he doesn’t know how to thank her for what she said earlier. “Thanks for-” 

“No need to thank me,” she cuts him off, shaking her head. She reaches up to kiss him one last time for the night. “I love you, Harry.” 

“Love you too,” he whispers with a squeeze to her waist then a hand through her hair. 

Aurora waves to everyone in the arena saying goodnight and see ya tomorrow’s to everyone see passes. It's pretty much perfect timing when her phone rings as she unlocks her hotel room door no more than 15 minutes later. 

“Issac!” she greets him when his face shows up on her phone. His hair is hidden by one of the many national park hats he owns and his face is covered by his thick beard. 

“Roo!” he says excitedly. When they first met when they were 5, ‘Aurora’ wasn’t the easy name to pronounce and Issac being Issac came up with his own nickname for her and ‘Roo’ was it.

“How are you?” she asks, setting the phone down on the bathroom counter. 

“I’m great! My last trip was amazing. The dogs loved it and I got some really good photos.” Issac is a photographer for the National Park Service which means lots of camping trip and lots of traveling. “I’ll have to send you some photos tomorrow when I edit them.” 

“Yes please! Where are the pups?” 

Issac turns his facetime to the back camera. His 2 Australian shepards are passed out next to each other on the rug. “They’re always so tired when we get back,” Issac comments as he flips the camera back to him. Aurora aw’s as his dogs as she wipes the makeup off her face. “How was the show tonight?” 

“Really good.” 

“I know that look,” Issac comments. “Tell me more.” 

Issac reads her better than anyone, Aurora didn’t even know she had a specific look on her face. “I don’t know,” she says, drying off her face and then moving to drop herself on the bed. “Adult feelings are hard,” Aurora says with a laugh. 

“You guys already said ‘I love you’ and are sleeping together… what else could there be?” 

Aurora groans. “Him being an international rockstar messes with my head sometimes and tour is almost over.” 

“Ohhhh,” Issac says realising what’s happening. He’s been there for every single ‘existential dread of change’ conversation--his name for it, not hers. “Roo, you’ve got a full month of tour in front of you and if you think Harry’s gonna drop you the second that last show ends you’ve got something coming.” 

“You don’t know that,” she says with a frown. “Roo, do you not think he actually loves you?”

“No!” she says quickly. “I’m not questioning that!” 

“If you’re not questioning that then why would you even think anything is going to change?” 

“Things always change and touring is a different world. Once tour is over, everything changes.” 

“Not everything will change. He’ll still love you after that last show and you’ll both start something new. He’ll make more music, you’ll keep styling him and maybe your boss will get you some other jobs in the meantime.” Aurora lets out a heavy sigh. “And he’ll tour again and you’ll do it again.” 

“I know you’re right. You always are with these things,” she sighs again. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you, too.” 

“Thanks for talking me down,” 

“Always.” 

“Now, shall we drink and talk or drink and watch a movie?” 

Issac gets a cold beer from his fridge and Aurora orders wine via room service. They decide on a movie they’ve both seen a million times because without a doubt they’ll end up talking through it anyways. When the movie ends they continue chatting through the credits. 

“Okay, you compare the tour dates with your calendar and then let me know which one works for you,” Aurora confirms. 

“Maybe I'll just tag along on the rest of the tour,” he jokes. 

They’re both laughing despite their tiredness but they eventually stop and say goodnight. 

Aurora snuggles into the hotel bed after messing with the sheets and tossing the extra pillows to the floor. She falls asleep fast now that her head is clear, the feeling in her chest is not so heavy--the magic effects of a facetime with her best friend. 

| | | | | 

Aurora’s sat on the worn down couch in Harry’s dressing room, Harry’s fringe covered jacket that he wore the night before sprawled across her lap, those random Gucci pillows to her left. In front of her on the coffee table, her laptop is propped open, her mother’s smiling face looking back at her. 

“Yeah, I’ve gotta reattach the ones we still have and then I’m making some makeshift ones to fill any other empty space.” 

“You know better than anyone that you should always do a dress rehearsal,” Aurora’s mom reminds her. 

“Mom,” she groans, “yes, I know that, but that’s kinda hard when there’s almost 100 looks. We didn’t have much time before the tour started.” 

“Doesn’t he rehearse or something before each show?” Aurora rolls her eyes. She is more annoyed with herself than her mother right now. 

“Soundcheck, yeah.” She lets out a sigh. “I should’ve had him wear the jacket for soundcheck at least.” Aurora threads a needle with red thread that matches the fringe. “Didn’t really cross my mind. Everything was already designed and made with him performing on stage and everything, but I didn’t think about things getting stuck in his guitar. I was only thinking about how amazing the fringe would look as he danced around.” 

“Rory, sweetie, it’s okay, this is your job anyways, yeah? Making sure he looks good on stage, making repairs and all. I saw a few videos and you were right about how amazing it looks.” 

“Yeah it’s fine. I just can’t believe it didn’t cross my mind.” Aurora shakes her head with a laugh. “Anyways, how’ve you been doing?” 

“Busy at work but Leila came to visit last weekend. She tells me you’re pretty smitten,” her mom shares. 

“Leila,” Aurora hisses. “What on earth did she tell you?” She asks with her eyes narrowed. She does a quick look at the door and it’s still only ajar like she left it. She’d prefer not to have this conversation with everyone being in earshot but this is the best she could do now. 

“More than you have.” 

“Mom, come on! You can’t expect me to tell you everything or that I tell you everything I tell Leila!” Aurora drops her head back and it lands on the back of the couch. “Leila has something else coming for her when I see her.” 

“Aurora Marie,” her mother scolds. Aurora groans. “If it makes you feel better I don’t think she told me everything, but it was still more than you’ve shared.” Aurora looks at her mom through the webcam on her laptop. “She said you stayed at his house in London,” her mother’s eyes soften, trying to relay that she's concerned and skeptical before she continues, “and that he also acted extremely jealous-”

“Do not,” Aurora warns her mother. “Do not pretend like you know anything.” 

“Aurora, I’m just worried,” she pleads.

“Harry is not Adrian.” Aurora can’t believe she even has to say that sentence out loud. She can feel her chest tighten up. She catches a glimpse of what she looks like in the small rectangle at the top of the screen and she’s met with her own scowl. Aurora closes her eyes and lets out a breath through her nose. “It was nowhere near the same situation, Mom. I can promise you that.” She can’t believe her mom had the audacity to even think about comparing Harry to her ex boyfriend, Adrian. 

“It’s hard not to make those conclusions if you’re keeping things from me.”

“Can you see why I didn’t tell you?” 

“Rory, please, you have to understand that I worry, it’s my job.” Aurora can see her mother is trying to apologize. 

“Mom, you have to trust me. Yes, Adrian was a jealous asshole and it ruined me. You don’t have to remind me, I was the one in the relationship.” Aurora doesn’t want to go through this. At this point she’d rather Leila told their mother about her sex life. “But this is not Adrian, it’s Harry and the situation was completely different.” 

“A jealous man is a jealous man,” her mother says with what seems to be an all knowing tone. 

“Mom, stop, please. It was so far from anything that I have ever dealt with before,” Aurora’s growing frustration is boiling in her chest now. Neither of them speak for a minute. Aurora is running through her thoughts trying to find a way to explain this in a way her mother will understand. “Harry’s different. The whole situation was completely different.” A memory sparks and Aurora takes a deep breath. “Okay, look at it this way. You know how I used to get during dance competitions? When I was overly exhausted and stressed? All my emotions at an all time high? That’s what tour is like, but times 10. Harry’s on stage almost every night and add in the traveling and sprinkle in the stress of our new relationship, which at the time was not official. I was stressed over the last part. I had just met his mom and sister and all his friends and I won’t go into it but there was a lot going on. There was a lot going on for both of us and in the midst of the exhaustion and stress and all the other emotions that were floating around, Harry jumped to conclusions. His brain played tricks on him.” Aurora pauses for a moment, her mom nodding along with the explanation. “My brain did the same to me during competitions. You know what that looks like, you know exactly what happened all of those times. I always needed a reasoning voice to calm me down, to explain to me what was really going on. You had to be tough on me sometimes, but you did it because you love me. I dealt with Harry the same way, with love and care but didn’t take any bullshit.” Aurora’s mother sighs then purses her lips together in thought. “Harry did not act on his jealousy like Adrian did. He came to me, we talked it out. I made him apologize.” 

Okay is all her mom says so Aurora goes on. 

“Mom, you’ve gotta trust me. I’ve learned from the past. I’ve grown up. I’m doing good. and god, I’ve never been happier.” 

“I can see that,” her mom says with a smile. “I don’t know how much I have to say this, but I will always worry about you.” 

“Please just try to not worry so much.” They look at each other through the screen. “I love you,” Aurora reminds her mother with a smile. 

“I love you too, sweetie.” 

“Any other burning concerns?” Aurora jokes. Her mother shakes her head with a soft laugh. “Good, anyways, not long till I’ll see you and you’ll get to meet him.” 

“Can’t wait!” Her mother beams. 

“Well, I called ‘cause I missed ya but also ‘cause I had a question.” Aurora hears the door creak and she turns her head to see it open and Harry come through. He’s wearing an old red t-shirt and black workout shorts. It’s clear he’s just finished training with the sweat clinging to his curls, the water bottle in his hand and his headphones in his ears. 

“What was the question?” Aurora’s mother’s voice brings her attention back to the screen and the jacket in her lap. 

“Yeah, so I have to make a few more fringe pieces to replace the missing ones and I couldn’t decide which fabric would match best,” Aurora reaches to the side of her for the few pieces of fabric she pulled from her case earlier. 

“Hiya, Ror,” Harry says softly as he rounds the back of the couch. “Oh hello,” he says surprisingly when he sees an older woman on the screen. “You must be Rory’s mum,” he concludes. “Ror, looks just like you.” The eyes that stare at him through the computer screen are familiar and her hair is just like Aurora’s only with some flecks of grey throughout the dark dark brown strands. 

“Well hello, Harry,” Aurora’s mom responds with a smile. 

“Don’t want to interrupt,” he comments quickly, “just grabbing a quick kiss and then off to shower.” Aurora’s cheeks heat up quickly as she lets out a disbelieving huff. And with a promise on his word, Harry bends down, tilts Aurora’s chin with his free hand, lands a fleeting kiss on her lips and walks out of frame. Aurora’s mom has a bright smile on her face. 

“What is that look for?” Aurora asks her mom through a giggle she can’t suppress. 

“He’s sweet.” 

“Shush, now help me decide which fabric to use so I can get back to work,” Aurora begs. 

“My mom thinks you’re sweet,” Aurora says as she stands in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the hotel room. Harry’s ears perk up and he follows her voice. When he leans against the door frame of the bathroom he smiles at the sight in front of him. 

The pair of cotton cut off shorts Aurora is wearing are rolled at the waistband to make up for the fact that they’ve stretched out over the years she’s had them. One of the few tour t-shirts she’s acquired over the past few months hangs loose off her shoulders and is tucked into the waistband of her shorts. Hot pink fuzzy socks cover her feet. 

“Does she?” Harry asks as he crosses his arms over his chest. Aurora’s face is covered in soap now. She reaches for a clean washcloth to wet and wipe the soap from her face. She smiles at him through the mirror as she hums back to him. “and why’s that?” 

“Well we were talking about you, had to clear some things up but then you came in and said Hi to her and then she didn’t question a thing.” Harry’s eyebrows furrow at the answer. He decides to walk into the bathroom and leans against the counter, his back to the mirror and head turned towards Aurora. She’s applying a new product from a blue bottle to her face, Harry doesn’t pay much attention to what it is, more interested in Aurora’s admission. 

“What d’ya mean clear things up?” 

“Oh,” Aurora says softly. She reaches out a hand to one of his forearms that’s crossed over his chest. She squeezes it before dropping her hand and grabbing another beauty product from her makeup back. “Nothing you have to worry about. She brought up my ex from a few years ago. He wasn’t-” Aurora pauses and looks to Harry, “he wasn’t the greatest.” She applies moisturize before she continues, Harry's eye’s not moving from her face. She takes a deep breath then turns her whole body so she can comfortably look at him. “My mother worries that every guy I meet is going to be like him. No need for me to go into detail but, he was obscenely jealous. No matter what I did he got upset over it. I thought I loved him at the time and didn’t really see how bad it was. Took a lot of convincing from my friend and Leila and my mom that he was bad news. He really messed with my head for awhile.” Aurora sighs as she searches Harry’s face. She can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but his brows are furrowed, a crease in his forehead and there’s tension in his arms that wasn’t there before. “But I learned from it, know how I deserve to be treated now.” 

“You deserve the world,” Harry says and it surprises Aurora. “Just hope I can give you it.” 

Aurora’s eyebrows raise in the middle of her face and her lips part. Never has anyone said something like that to her. She releases a breath before a small smile creeps up on her face. 

“Think you might deserve even more than the world,” Harry adds. 

Not even a full second passes before Aurora is cradling Harry’s face and placing a bruising kiss to his lips. Just as fast, Harry’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling her body into his. “I’m gonna try my damndest to give you it though,” he says against her mouth when they pull apart momentarily. Twisting them around, he grips her waist tighter and lifts her onto the empty space on the bathroom counter. 

“I hope to do the same for you, ya know,” Aurora whispers back to him. Their foreheads are pressed together and they just look at each other for a moment. They end up giggling and Aurora can’t help but kiss each and every crinkle that appears on Harry's face as he smiles that smile, the one she’s pretty sure he saves just for her. She starts at his dimples, which are so deep that they seem never ending. She kisses high on his cheek, leading to the creases at his eyes. It’s here she can see the brightness of the green in his eyes even through the squint he has right now. Her kisses land on the bridge of his nose and travel down following the lines that appear as he scrunches his nose, giggles still leaving his mouth. She gives up on trying to land a kiss on every single crease and line and divot and decides to kiss every square inch of his face before she finds his lips again. They’re both giggling lightly still and thought it makes it hard to kiss properly, they don’t stop. Their teeth knock together several times, kisses barely landing on each other's lips but they don’t care. 

It’s long past midnight but neither of them care to move from where they are. Tomorrow’s a travel day, they can catch up on sleep thenn. And anyways, standing in the crappy fluorescent lighting of the hotel bathroom Harry can’t help but think about how he’s falling more in love by the second. 

Her laughter mixes with his and it echoes off the tiled walls and it sounds just like a song. 

__________

thanks for reading !!! I hope you enjoyed !!! 

[littlestlilies]

I can't believe how fast I reached 100 followers after everything that happened that lead to me creating this blog...

It's probably no surprise but I'm honestly getting emotional right now~ hehehe

Everyone has been so unbelievably supportive and kind to me. And even though I don't post a lot of original content, I'm glad so many of you have stuck around despite my vast array of interests and my weird vegetable based updates hehehe

I love every single one of you so much!

Thank you for the follows, the likes, the reblogs and especially those brave enough to message me get hit with an onslaught of energy hehehe

You guys are the best! I never wouldn't thought I'd make so many friends in my life

Thank you

[spicysawdust]

Oop... Tenko eating out his girlfriend? 👀

Umm... Yes-fucking-please🤤🤤

There’s not much of a plot just mostly porn

—————————————————————————

The first time your boyfriend ate you out it was 100% upon his request. He wanted to try it out on you because he was confident enough to think he knew what he was doing. You weren’t really one to snoop around but it wasn’t your fault that one time you slipped into his room and saw a “how to eat pussy” tutorial playing on his computer monitor while he was asleep in his gaming chair. The love of your life, your powerful master, your leader, passed out at his desk that was covered in empty energy drink cans and fast food trash while watching porn. How unbelievably attractive.

He first brought up the subject to you the night after a decently difficult mission. Everyone in the league, including yourself, was pretty exhausted and all you wanted to do was drag yourself into your boyfriend’s bed and sleep until tomorrow’s afternoon. That’s when he made the request after following you into his room and locking the door behind himself. You supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try it since you wouldn’t really have to do anything other than lie there and give him verbal praise or advice. In addition, you knew he deserved it and much more.

You were quick to yank your jeans and panties to the floor before losing your shoes along with them. The sooner you started, the sooner you finished and the sooner you finished, the sooner you could go to sleep. You lied on you back with your legs spread wide open, inviting him to come closer. He couldn’t help but stare for a long moment before crawling up onto the bed and resting on his elbows, his face mere inches away from your exposed warmth. He could practically feel the heat radiating from your warm, wet flesh on his face as he traced his index finger along the ends of your labia in two separate half-crescents. Leaning in to inhale your sweet, feminine scent before blowing a light breeze onto your partially hidden clit.

You felt goosebumps litter your skin and a warmth pooling in your nether regions along with your face at his suprizingly tender actions. Maybe he was just tired or maybe he was using his newly acquired knowledge on female genitalia and taking his time to make sure your were fully aroused before he got started. Using the same index finger he used to trace over your labia and his thumb he pulled your clitoral hood back and took the small bundle of overly sensitive nerves between his chapped lips, sucking on it ever so slightly. Your hips jerked and a sharp gasp was ripped from your lungs. “T-That feels good, sir,” you shivered and rolled your hips in sync with his movements. He began sucking on it, tenderly nursing it the same way a newborn would breastfeed. The repeating movements of his warm lips made your body feel fuzzy and your brain numb, unable to do anything other than stare at the ceiling while your hand slowly snaked it’s way into his messy and tangled silver locks.

When he eventually pulled away you could feel your erect, swollen clit throbbing for more attention from his roughly textured lips as your entrance leaked a thick, clear, gooey self lubricant. Starting at the base of your sensitive pussy, he trailed a flat tongue lick that glid from the base to the area above your clit, earning him a higher pitched cry and an involuntary yank of his hair. “You like that? You like what your leader is capable of with his mouth? I want to hear you say it,” his husky, scratchy voice made your skin feel hot enough to melt off.

“Yes, Tomura, it feels good. I like it,” your response was stiff and seemed scripted much to his dismay. A sudden pinch to your clit made your legs jerk and you mind scramble. “What’s my name? Say it like you mean it,” he growled before rubbing his cheek against your warm, plush inner thigh, occasionally rolling your clit between his fingers and pinching it a bit to rough for comfort. “Tomura sir! You’re the only one who makes me feel good. I love the way your mouth feels against me. So good sir. You’re too good,” you were almost panting once you completed your declaration. As an immediate reward you felt a sudden fullness in your tight, gummy walls. Both his index finger and his middle finger curled up a pressed against a raised, spongy spot inside of you that made you squirm. “Oh? What do we have here?” His tone along with his devious smirk made you buck your hips upwards and give him pleading eyes.

How could he have found it so quickly? How could he even know it existed? How many videos did he watch? Questions raced though your head as his fingers abused that one spot over and over again with curling motions, making it balloon up and become more sensitive to every touch. When his lips returned to their place around your clit it made your back arch and your eyes roll to the back of your skull, the balloon in your belly near ready to pop. Your eyes watered and your legs spread on their own as you panted loudly and high pitched squeals escaped you. Your brain was to fuzzy to comprehend when Shigaraki reached up and grabbed one of the pillows next to you before using a single hand to place it beneath his groin, allowing him to grind against it and get some much needed relief for himself while continuing to curl and scissor his fingers inside of you.

The pleasure you felt was almost unreal. The white hot, tingling sensation that ran throughout your entire body. Tears leaked from your eyes as you tightened you grip on his hair with one hand and grabbed a fistful of the comforter beneath you as you tried not to scream. Your orgasm was only seconds away from erupting when you heard shaky moans and grunts coming from between your legs. With the tiny amount of strength you had left in your body, you sat up just enough to watch as your boyfriend furiously humped away at your favorite pillow while still fully dressed. His fingering motions stuttered along with his higher pitched moans and face contorted with pleasure as he creamed his pants.

His light pink-dusted face complimented the way his eyes squeezed shut and the way his nose scrunched up while he bit his bottom lip in the most erotic way you had ever seen. You had never witnessed Shigaraki’s O-face before and it was just what you needed to reach your climax even faster. An ecstasy filled wail erupted from you lungs as your orgasm shredded though your body whether you were ready or not. Your whole body trembled as a few clear droplets sprayed from your pussy, alerting Tomura. His four fingers, excluding his thumb, rubbed your clit in a fast back and forth motion without showing you any mercy. He was forcing your body to squirt. “Tenko!!” You cried out and grabbed onto his shoulders as your body convulsed in front of him as he watched in fascination.

The mind numbing, heavenly feeling that washed over your came to a stop after about 8 seconds of nonstop squirting. Your whole body was shaking and trembling as you clung to your boyfriend desperately for support. Shigaraki pulled your back against his chest and held you securely. “Fuck, good girl. So messy,” he huffed, exhaustion evident in his voice as he lied in his own cum soaked pants. A few deep breaths later, you had calmed down a bit and were actually capable of communicating again. “How about I get you cleaned up then we go to bed?” You asks, your voice still a bit shaky as you go to find some clean pajama pants for him. “Hm, that’s why your my favorite member of the league,” he said with a satisfied tone, finally able to lie down and rest with his cute little loved like he deserves.

[buckysgoldenheart]

Late :Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry has a reputation that makes you cautious and it’s caused some disagreements. Everyone thinks you hate each other, but maybe you don’t as much as you let on. (fluffy ending, and idk, maybe angst depending on your definition).

Words: 2880

Notes/Warnings: I made this like mid-20s Henry during the Tudors filming, season 1. If I messed up with tenses somewhere, I’d like it of you let me know. I started this story out in the past-tense then changed it to present so I might have missed some stuff when editing, even after reading it 100 times over.

At the sound of the doorbell, you hop up from your sunken spot on the couch. After the day you had, the Chinese food on the other side of that wood slab is the only thing with the ability to help you recover before you must face a fresh 5 a.m. morning with Henry tomorrow.

God, you want that man to fall off the face of the earth. You don’t care if his disappearance meant you would temporarily be out of a job. Being an assistant on the set of The Tudors was something you had strongly considered sacrificing in the past if it meant never having to work with one very particular, blue-eyed, temperamental actor ever again.

You almost quit weeks ago but told yourself to suck it up. You can’t afford to unintentionally cause drama at your workplace, not after your last job; and getting that kind of reputation is not what you are going for. Besides, filming for the first season is almost over, and you will gladly welcome the long break before everyone needs to report back for season two.

The smile you were fully prepared to give the delivery man falls entirely at the sight on the other side of the door.

“What the hell are you doing here,” You huff out.

Henry crosses his thick arms over his even thicker chest and frowns back at you. “I didn’t get my script.”

A headache is already forming just from his proximity and you don’t bother resisting the urge to rub at your temple. “Well, I sent it to your house a week ago.”

“And I didn’t get it, so clearly you didn’t do a very good job.”

With an eye-roll, you say, “Is there some reason you had to come all the way to my apartment and bug me for the script when I will see you first thing in the morning?”

“Everyone else will have had theirs longer, and I wanted to get a good start on learning my lines, so yes, I have a good reason for ‘bugging’ you, Y/N.”

You hate the way he says your name. It passes his lips so softly every time and makes your heart speed faster than your liking. If another man said your name like that, you’d fall for him in an instant, but no, Henry seemed to be the only man possessing that thick, honey-sweet voice.

“Whatever,” You groan and turn on your heel. In your office desk are two extra copies of each actors’ script for emergencies, but a simple text from Henry would’ve sufficed; this is hardly life or death.

‘Hey, never got my script. Can you bring a copy in the morning?’ So damn easy.

You turn your head back when Henry’s heavy footsteps hit your hardwood floors. “Hey, I didn’t say you could come in,” You snap, eyebrows drawn together.

“What kind of person would leave their guest outside?”

The sass in his tone makes you want to pull your hair right out of your scalp. “You’re not my guest,” You say, but your blatant aggravation does nothing to hinder him and his body is a foot away from yours before you know it. Inches he has on you forces you to look up just to meet the smirk on his face.

“Stop acting like you hate me,” He says as he reaches a hand to grab yours.

“Excuse me?!” You quickly swat that hand away. “I am not acting like anything! Any negative feelings you are sensing from me are one hundred percent genuine.”

Henry scoffs and crosses his arms once again. “Oh, please.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. He is unbelievable. Everything he does, everything he says, everything he is has had the power to make your whole body shake since the day you met him. “God, I can’t stand you!”

Walking away from him for the office, he follows close behind. “You know what, you’re not all that great either!” He yells at your back as you open the drawer of your desk to shuffle through the scripts. “You yap all damn day, talking to everyone else on set and making them laugh! You shoot that pretty smile in any direction and people flock to you like deranged birds!”

“So!” You pull out the script and hand it to Henry. Without giving it a glance, he snatches it from you and tosses it back on the oak wood surface of the desk.

“So? You’re distracting them from their jobs! We could probably get things done twice as fast if you weren’t around!”

“That’s—”

“And you are annoyingly beautiful!” He harshly interrupts. “Annoyingly! The men we work with will not shut up about it and I’m sick of listening to them talk about you the way they do! I end up hearing your name more times in a day than I hear my own, and I get called upon every five seconds! I’m practically forced to think about you!”

You blink at the increase in volume that makes the thin walls of your home quiver.

“I don’t know how many times your face manages to flash in my mind in the course of a week, but it’s starting to get to me!”

Your hands rise in disbelief before they slap back down to your sides. “That’s not my fault! But you’re one to talk! You’re well aware you’re ridiculously, unnaturally hot, and I fucking hate it! The women we work with won’t shut up about you. And you think I’m annoying? Imagine being surrounded by a pack of idiots that go on and on about how amazing you are, when the truth is, you’re so arrogant I can’t stand to be within two feet of you!”

When you try to walk past him, his hand wraps tightly around your upper arm. “Hey!”

“Leave me alone! I hate you!” You snarl at the rage in his eyes and try to shake him off you.

“You don’t hate me.”

You glare up at him. “Oh no?”

He gapes at you, seemingly stunned you have the gall to challenge him. The grip on your arm loosens until you are free. Winding his fingers through his chocolate locks, Henry shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “You are so...”

“So what? So irritating? So infuriating?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“If I’m such a problem, then go.” Ignoring his words, you point a finger in the general direction of the nearest exit.

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Of course, I do!”

He quirks an eyebrow and cocks his head. “So you’re going to grab me with your tiny hands and throw me through the front door, is that right?”

“I can’t fucking lift you!” You yell.

“Then I’m staying!”

“I think you’re really not! You can’t just demand to stay here! That’s not how this works!”

“Why can’t you just—God damn it!” He stomps his way back into the living room, script forgotten, and reaches for the doorknob. You follow him and let out an exhausted breath of relief, but Henry whips around to you again before you have time to revel in the feeling. “You know what, no. I’m not going anywhere until we settle this bullshit between us. I’m not going to argue with you anymore. I’m not going to act like I dislike you. I’m not going to keep playing this game, because it’s clearly not getting me anywhere; in fact, it’s doing the opposite.”

“Getting you anywhere?” You mumble.

“This whole thing is fucking bullshit and I’m over it.” He swallows. “Tell me what I did.”

“What?”

“You keep saying you hate me but have never given me a reason, so what did I do?”

Your jaw drops. “Are you kidding? You were just telling me I suck at my job, yet at the same time you don’t think I have a reason to be mad. You glare at me during work, you act like I’m an inconvenience, you—”

“That’s not what I mean.” Henry grabs your hand, and for a reason you couldn’t place, you allow it this time. “At the beginning, when we met, what was it that caused a problem between us? I’ve gone over our first meeting in my head about a thousand times and cannot figure out how I upset you so much that you’re still mad after months.”

You slip your fingers out of his palm, looking to the floor.

“Please just tell me,” He begs. “Please, I--”

“You sleep with the women you work with.” You spit out.

When he stares at you in confusion, you wince and say, “I have this friend…kinda. She was an extra on Hellraiser and claimed that you slept with nearly every woman on set, herself included. When I told her I got this job she said you’d probably try to get in my pants if I wasn’t careful, and I’m not cautious enough about men as it is, so—”

“You were mad at me before we met for something I didn’t even do?” He isn’t angry or looking at you like you’ve lost your mind; more like he can’t believe that was all it was. As if he had a simple solution to the problem that planted its roots deep into the both of you months prior.

“Whether or not you did, it’s not like you’ve been an angel to me anyway,” You say.

“Because I fucking panic when someone I want doesn’t want me! And you’ve made it very clear that you do not want me! You always seem so angry and…and I’m not very smooth, ok!? I say shit I don’t mean!”

“So you do want to get in my pants?”

“No!” He says quickly, then after a beat, sighs. “Yes.”

You give no response, so he continues.

“I swear, despite how idiotic I have acted, I really like you, and I don’t know who your friend is or why she would tell you I slept with a bunch of women on set, but I didn’t.”

You have to look away from him. His eyes hold too much sincerity and all it does is confuse you. You have spent too much time pissed to feel comfortable with the idea that it was potentially all for no reason, so you hug your arms across your middle and take a step back from him.

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.”

You shake your head. “I can’t right now.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s late, Henry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You won’t meet his stare but can see from your peripherals his head slowly nod. You don’t look up until your front door closes softly behind him.

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

You spend the earliest hours of the next morning sipping coffee before everyone else arrives for work, wondering if the night before actually happened or if it had just been a very realistic messy mix of a dream and a nightmare.

The sun rises and you watch as it ascends each inch until it’s planted high enough in the sky to warm your skin. He’d be here soon, looking for you, wanting answers for any questions you hadn’t given him the chance to ask.

So, what, he likes me now? He wants me? You can’t wrap your head around it. But you suppose it makes as much sense as you saying you hate him when really what you’ve been is nervous. You don’t want to be used again by some man with more power than you. Pulling yourself out of that hole was hard enough and you have no desire to trip and fall right back in.

“Y/N. You’re here early.”

You jump at the first voice to interrupt the peaceful silence. It was the last moment you’ll have to yourself for the next fifteen hours at least.

Turning your head, you smile at your boss. “Morning, Em.”

“Henry’s here early, too,” She says. “He asked me to let him know when you came in, but seeing as you’re already here, you think you could just head to his trailer now?”

No, you want to say. I’m not ready. “Sure.” You half-heartedly smile, dumping the last of your coffee in the nearest trash can.

Each crunchy step along the gravel to Henry’s trailer feels less sturdy than the one before. Though, he isn’t in his trailer when you find him, but standing out in a grassy patch, throwing a ball to Em’s dog, Leo. It makes your heart pump hard to see him so casually soft. It’s the first time you are looking at him when his eyes aren’t already on you.

Leo loyally returns the ball to Henry three more times before you gather the nerve to step up to his side.

“Em said you wanted to see me.”

You notice him hold in a breath when he registers your voice, then tossing the ball once more, he says, “I’d have gone looking for you myself if I knew you were here.”

You nod, but you’ve yet to look at one another.

“The makeup artists are gonna have a blast today trying to make me look decent,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t sleep all night. I spent it trying to figure out what to say to you but came up short.”

You scratch behind Leo’s large ears when he nudges your legs with his head. Henry gently grins, though you don’t see it. You shrug. “At least you don’t have as many scenes today.”

Henry chuckles. “That’s true.”

“I couldn’t think of anything to say to you either,” You say.

A moment passes as he blows out a deep sigh.

“Y/N…I don’t want to act like it didn’t happen. I know that’s what is easiest, but I meant what I said. The good parts, not the shit about you sucking at your job. You’re the best at your job.”

Finally meeting his eyes, the corners of your lips curve up just a bit.

“But I don’t expect you to feel the same about me.”

“Henry…”

He shakes his head and throws the ball for Leo after the pups persistent whimpering. “I’m not going to make things hard for you. Filming is almost over anyway and if you want, I’ll try to bother you as little as I can. I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, it’s just…you like everyone around here except me, but I’ve liked you more than anyone else since the moment we met. It’s no excuse--”

“It’s ok.”

He looks at you. “It’s not.”

“It is.” Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm. He stares at the touch you give him as you continue. “I didn’t have a good reason for treating you like I hate you, not really.”

“So, you don’t…hate me?”

“…No.” You look away in shame. “And I have a better explanation for that.”

He blinks, clearly relieved that every horrible thing he figured you felt for him was not, in your heart, the truth. “You don’t owe me one.”

“I slept with my boss once,” You rush out. “And, um…got the same warning as I did with you: sleeps with the other women he works with, will try to do the same with me. He did and I let him because I thought he liked me, but…no. All it did was make me feel like an idiot in the end.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I made a mistake.” You shrug. And suddenly, admitting that out loud, confiding in someone, knocks some of the painful gears in your head loose. You’d never told anyone the truth about your past. “Look, this is going to sound really odd but,” You swallow. “…Don’t stop bothering me.”

“Wait,” He turns his body fully to you. “What?”

Your lips thin, but then you smile, inch up on your toes, and go to kiss his cheek. All you wanted to do was provide a little reassurance, to let him know that you now forgive every misunderstanding between you, but the kiss lands a little too far to the right and covers the end of his mouth.

Immediately, you pull back a few centimeters and feel heat flushing your cheeks, but Henry tilts his head the slightest. He takes a breath, giving you a chance to pull back further, but when you make no move to abandon him, he connects your lips again.

It feels good. He feels good. So good it shocks you how much you don’t want it to end. And when you part your lips and his tongue touches yours, you can’t stop your hands from sliding up his chest before roping around his neck and tugging him closer. Only then does he greedily grab at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh through the fabric of your t-shirt.  

Leo’s bark separates you minutes later, though you’re reluctant to allow it. You glance at the dog, chuckling at his rapidly wagging tail as he watches the scene before him. But when you look back to Henry, his eyes are already glued to you, their hue a little brighter and a small smile on his face.

“I’ll bother you as much as you like,” He says and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear.

tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @anise-d-castle6 @rebelliouscat @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hiddles-rose @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf @picapicapicassobaby @genius2050 @lokilvrr @sunshine-seven @missjayi @agniavateira @tumblnewby @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ 

[jimlingss]

The President’s Son [18]

Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

It’s still fresh in your memory.   You remember your feet cold against the floors, gripping your nightie in a tight fist, nudging the big door just enough to look through the crack. You had brushed your hair behind your ear, scared of being scolded for looking like such a mess. But before you could stumble back into the darkness, you had caught his eye and he turned his head.    “I thought I told you to go to bed.”   You grip the fabric in your hand tighter. “Is mommy home?”   Your father doesn’t answer you, merely glancing out the window for a moment before he sets the glass in his hand down onto his desk. He slumps onto the sofa that’s pushed against the wall and you take the invitation to come into his office.    He looks down at your legs. “What happened?”   You follow his line of sight to your bruised knees before hesitantly meeting his eyes again. “I fell.”   You didn’t — someone pushed you at kindergarten today. Maybe he knows about it. It’s not good to lie, but you don’t wanna tell the truth either. He would be happy though. You got up and didn’t cry at all.   Like you guessed, he asks point-blank, “Did someone do that?”   He’s smart. Your dad’s very smart. So, you wonder why mom would wanna go and not come back. It might be your fault, but you tried your hardest to be a good girl and you didn’t cause any trouble.   “No.”   Your dad scans you up and down, the same way he looks at you when you get to pick out your own clothes before school and come out all ready and dressed. But this time, he seems sad.    You don’t know why.   “Go to bed.” He finally turns away. “We’re going somewhere bright and early tomorrow.”   You know better than to ask questions, so you nod, slowly padding out of his office and making sure to close the door behind you. Your feet scatter against the tiles before racing up the stairs, scared that monsters in the dark will get you if you look around or stay for too long. The covers are pulled above your head once you make it and you fall asleep staring at the closet that might have skeletons.   In the morning and after some cereal for breakfast, dad takes you to the dojo — it’s like the gym at school, but with wooden floors and mats, and kids older than you practicing. They’re punching the air and kicking mats that others hold. You watch them before dad brings you away.   “What are we doing?”   “Seokjin, can you come here for a moment?” Dad calls out and an older kid comes running forward, bowing his head. He’s taller than you, bigger, bright eyes and dark hair. You don’t have a lot of time to look at him. “Shove her for me.”   “Sir!” His head spins around, eyes wide.   You don’t get it.   But dad looks stern and the student is forced to comply, doing his best to lightly shove your shoulder. “Harder.” The boy complies with the command and he pushes you, making you stumble back. Your dad hums a note and turns to look at you. “Bend your knees, root your feet to the ground.”    You try your best to follow his instructions and he nods to the boy again. You’re pushed again, but this time, you don’t stumble back or fall on your butt. “Good. Now turn your body a little. Like that. One leg in front of the other. Yes. Now when he pushes you again, twist away.”   Seokjin tries to shove you.   You deflect, but barely.   “Again. Put some muscle into it, Kim.”   The student frowns and he tries harder. He’s faster than you expect, stronger, and you’re staggering back, nearly shoved off the mats all together. But your dad has your hand on your back, keeping you upright.   “Again.”   Again and again until he’s happy. “Now open your palm. When he pushes you and you twist, you can throw your arm this way and hit him on the side of his head. Try to get him behind the ear.”   The teacher told you hitting wasn’t allowed — but you listen to your dad and do it the next time Seokjin tries to push you. It works, your arm coming out fast to jab where dad showed you. The boy winces and while you feel bad, it’s kind of fun…   “Do you understand?”   “Yeah!”   “Now next time, they won’t be able to push you anymore. If they do push you around, it’s because you let them.”   You nod and while it’s all weird, you’re glad dad taught you.   You don’t feel so scared anymore.

“Y/N!”   You’re literally shaken out of your daydream, startled and snapping back to attention with a couple of blinks. “Huh? What?”   “Wow. Unbelievable. I can’t believe you were ignoring me this entire time. How rude is that?! The audacity. Our relationship is already going downhill and we haven’t even gotten married yet. Aren’t we supposed to experience this after ten years of having a dead bedroom?” Taehyung’s not impressed whatsoever and he sighs deeply. “If you were listening, I was saying...that there are a lot of ways you can show your dad you care without blatantly saying anything to him. I know you’re not the type to go declare your love or anything, as much as I’d like that.”   “Thanks for the advice.”   “I’m serious though.” Taehyung shrugs, picking up his pace before matching his steps with yours. “Actions are stronger than words anyway. Words can be cheap.”   You pat him on the shoulder with a reserved smile, deciding his meddlesomeness was unwelcome and brushing it off. “You should do the same with your dad then.”   “Nah. I’m already close to that old man. Too close. He ruined my first crush by yelling it out when he was picking me up from school once. Should’ve never told him.” Taehyung smiles to himself, now fond of the memory filled with crippling embarrassment. “He’s just busy these days. Nothing he can do. When he’s done though, he promised to go fishing with me again. I don’t know if you remember, but we used to do that together. Too bad he can’t fish for shit. Keeps picking up seaweed and we end up with seaweed soup instead of grilled fish.”   The story is cute, but you wonder about something else. “What about your stepmother?”   “Nah. You can’t get close to everyone.”   “You haven’t even tried.”   “Don’t make this about me when we’re talking about you.”   “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You smile before reaching over to hold his hand, squeezing securely. It does a good job of making him silent. “Thanks for the advice, Taehyung.”   //   It’s on your day off that you muster the courage to act, instead of just thinking. Maybe Taehyung’s words have really gotten to you because otherwise, you don’t think you’d be doing this.   You release a shaky exhale, crumpling the slip of paper that has the address in your hand before opening the gate. It’s a tiny house on the corner street, not far from the Blue House. It looks unkempt, like he doesn’t come here often; it’s understandable considering he lives and breathes work.   But before you knock on the door, you notice how the roof’s singles are falling, a few kicked in the corner of the patio. The gutter is also torn, hanging haphazardly in the air.   Your fist raps against the surface of the door and it opens. The man on the other side is old and weary, wrinkles lined all over his face and he looks at you with his eyes squinted, blinded by the morning sunlight. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”   “I...uh…” It’s terribly awkward as you shift your weight from one foot to the next, much like a forlorn child who’s been abandoned by their parent and is now showing up one day out of the blue. You shut your eyes to compose yourself. “I heard you were off-duty. I am too. I thought I’d visit..since I’ve...never...really…”   Your voice gets quieter against your will. But the hinges creak, door widening.    “It’s nice of you to come by. I don’t get many breaks often so…”   “Yeah, yeah, no, I get it. But breaks are good. You should, um, keep your health in good condition and breaks help with that.”   It’s a small home, one main room, a single bedroom and a bathroom. It’s meager, little furniture that’s dusty and brown. He’s not one for interior decorating, but you already knew that. Though what takes you by surprise is a picture of you in your graduating outfit on the shelf by the one-seated tiny dinner table.    “Would you like tea or coffee or water?”   “Sure. Any! I’m fine with any.”   When you’re no longer in a professional environment, you’re not sure how to address him or how to act. But while it’s still tense, you focus on taking off your coat, hanging it on the tiny rack, a painted one that you had sent him in grade eight after making it home ec class.    You step closer, the floorboards creaking. “I...didn’t know you moved.”   He stirs the cup of coffee he made with powder inside a packet and hot water. “I don’t need a whole house by myself. This place is enough and close to where I need to be. But it’s still there. The house. In case you need it one day.”   “Oh.” You take the cup he offers, mumbling a ‘thank you’. The conversation dies off, air becoming still, and your eyes stray. “The wall’s wet,” you comment, noticing how the stream of water captures the light.    “Right.” He follows your line of sight. “It’s the roof leaking. I keep telling myself it needs to get fixed, but I keep forgetting—”   “I can do it,” you offer and he turns as you give a small smile. “I can fix the roof….if you want.”   //   Taehyung was right. You’re not bold or courageous like he is. Declarations and confessions are out of the question. You can’t spill the words out of your throat or let them be written on paper if you wanted to. It’s better for you to act without saying. To do rather than to think or speak.   You realize this is the only way you know how.   “I’m sorry for calling you right after your shift.”   “It’s not a problem, chickpea. I’d come running for you no matter the circumstances.”   You’re giddy, giggling while your cheeks heat, face feeling too hot. But then suddenly—   “Y/N!” There’s an angry shout that has your eyes lifting to a man with square shoulders and his fists balled up, a witness to how you’ve become sheepish. “What the hell are you doing?”   “Taehyung? What are you doing here?”   Jimin leans over to be seen, popping out of nowhere, having been hidden by his friend’s larger body. He wears an apologetic smile. “We...we were at the Blue House...and h-heard you call Jin….s-sorry.”   “They joined me.” Seokjin grins. “The more the merrier, right?”   “I guess.”   “You wanted me to help you fix the roof….” Jin turns with his hands on his hips, staring upwards where the damage has been done. “Can’t say I’ve ever tried, but we’ll see what we can do.”   “Psh, you’ve never?” Taehyung scoffs and saunters forward in an arrogant manner, his face cocky.    You’re not impressed. “Have you?”   “Doesn’t matter,” he brushes off quickly. “But I can probably be of more help.”   “Absolutely not.” — “That’s not a good idea.” — “ No.”   All three of you speak over each other, Jimin in a panic, Jin with his mouth curled upwards, and you shaking your head. Taehyung’s jaw drops and you smile, trying to placate him. “You, out of everyone, can’t get hurt.”   “Who said I’ll get hurt?”   His whine is ignored as Jimin pipes up, “Actually, I worked at a roofing company for a year before coming here.”   “Really?” Seokjin smiles. “Then that’s great.”   “But who’s going to watch Tae?”   It goes silent.    “I can watch myself!” Taehyung protests in a voice increasingly becoming shriller. “I’m not a child!”   “Alright, alright.” You pat him on the shoulder. “Let’s get started.”   A short trip to the hardware store later, with Taehyung tagging along with you and bothering you the entire time while Jimin reads off a list he found on the internet and Seokjin goes to consult a worker, all the necessary supplies are gathered together.    Taehyung’s nervous when he watches the three of you climb the ladder. He stands at the bottom to catch you if you slip and also prepare for moving out of the way in case it’s the other two that come falling, especially Jin. Then again, if the older man were hospitalized, that would be a perfect opportunity for you to go running into his arms shamelessly without looking back.   Goddammit.   Before Taehyung could even reconsider what to do, everyone’s gotten up safely and without worry.   He tries to help in other ways, but there’s not much he can do. He stands back as things are thrown off the roof, bits and pieces being torn apart to be replaced. Taehyung watches in envy, wishing he knew how to do these things despite lacking the most knowledge and strength of everyone here….   But there are still things he can do.   “I made lemonade!”   “Thank god!” Jimin wipes his brow with his wrist. “ It’s so hot!”   “Not for you!” he shouts back.   “Oh.” In an instant, the bodyguard’s shoulders fall, dejected.   “Taehyung,” you scold him simply by calling his name. He gives you the glass after you climb down and peel off your gloves, and he begrudgingly pouts as he pours another glass from the large pitcher, listening to you and handing it to Jimin.   Park Jimin wheezes upon the first sip.   Jin observes and it’s enough for him to politely refuse.   But Taehyung doesn’t pay any mind — he only cares about your reaction.   And you drink.   Somehow the lemonade is salty. And you wonder what he could’ve possibly put in it when there’s only supposed to be sugar, lemon, and water. But upon realizing that your pre-boyfriend boyfriend is watching, you hold your breath and down it all.   “Good?”   Your mouth is dry, throat somehow more parched than it was before. “Very.”   “Here have another one then! You drank all of that in one go! You must be super thirsty.”   “Nope.” You give a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine, Taehyung. Thank you.”   “Aw, you should have another one,” Seokjin playfully shouts behind you. Your expression is blank and you turn around to glare, making the older duck his head and Jimin giggles incessantly.    Work continues.   Taehyung turns to the man sitting beside him. “Want some, Mr. ____?”   “No.”   “Alright then.”   “Don’t worry, Chief. Should only take us two more hours!” Jimin yells down, throwing a thumbs up to show things are going well.   Yet, your father doesn’t speak a single word. Taehyung glances at him, taking in the awkward air and intimidating aura of the man. He shifts, swaying from side to side, fidgeting before he decides to put the pitcher back on the patio table. The table rocks, but luckily the old thing holds up the weight of the drink, and he breathes a sigh of relief.   Taehyung’s eyes stray up again, looking intently. He realizes you don’t look like your dad, but you certainly have his personality, or at least the intimidating aspect is similar…..   The man sighs through his nose. “Son, stop staring at me.”   “S-sorry.” Taehyung looks away.   It goes silent again, excruciating, until he breaks it. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”   “Pardon?”   “For her to come here. And visit me. Just doesn’t seem like something she’d ever do.”   “This...was her decision.” Taehyung looks up at you working and without realizing himself, a proud smile sneaks up his lips. “She wanted to come here, believe it or not. I didn’t tell her anything.”   “I see.”   “She doesn’t hate you,” Taehyung says suddenly, twisting his body to look straight at the old man. Like you, it’s not so scary when he faces it head on. “In case you were thinking of that. She doesn’t. It might not be my place to tell you, but she came back because of you.”   “Because of me?” The old man lightly scoffs and turns to gaze at you. “She’s still stupidly soft, isn’t she? I thought after all that we went through, she would’ve hardened and not care about anything.”   “Is that such a bad thing?”   Your dad pours himself a glass with the pitcher. Taehyung’s about to help, but the other man’s stare keeps him from interfering. Once he gets himself his own drink, he sips on it. And he sets the glass down immediately.    “That’s absolutely disgusting.”   “Sorry.”   “You can’t even make lemonade?”   “I don’t cook.”   Your dad scoffs with a smile tugging at his face. He leans back in his patio chair. “I was surprised she even invited me to her graduation ceremonies. When she finished high school, when she finished the police academy…..I still have the pictures. They’re in my wallet.”   Taehyung doesn’t know why he’s telling him all this, but the old man continues anyway. After all, to him, Taehyung might as well be as stupid as a cactus and it’s easy to talk to plants. “I regret a lot of things. When you get to my age, it’s hard not to. But one of my biggest things I regret was how hard I was on her. I just wanted her to be the best...to be strong and tough….and I didn’t realize I was making things worse until it was too late.”   “Nothing’s too late.”   His comment is ignored. “You can tell her I’m proud of her.”   “Why don’t you tell her?”   “Hmmm, I don’t feel like it.”   A grin spreads into his cheeks and Taehyung stares at your dad. “You’re emotionally stunted too, huh, old man?”   “Excuse me?” His neck cranes, eyes dead.   “That was a joke, it was a joke, I’m sorry.” Taehyung has his hands out, trying to undo and retract his words while begging for mercy.    “I never liked you,” your dad says out of the blue and colour drains from Taehyung’s face.   “What?”   “I only tolerate you because you’re my closest friend’s son. But I always found you...stupid. You lack any form of self-discipline, you’re spoiled, you’re too carefree and idiotically optimistic about things.”   “That’s….harsh.”   “But you’re very kind and genuine. A brave boy, even if you’re dumb about it.” Your dad nods and hums to himself, a conversation he has on his lonesome. “I guess those are a few good traits about you I never realized. I apologize for misjudging you.”   “Uh….I...um….it’s okay.”   Taehyung didn’t even know he was hated so much by your dad.   “I know you two are together.”   If possible, Taehyung’s become even paler. He barely holds himself up from slipping out of the patio chair. His palms are clammy, lips dry, sweat rolling down his face and it’s not from the afternoon sun. “W-who? Me and Jimin? C-Course we’re not together!”   Your dad shifts around again. “Don’t play stupid with me, son. I hear about things all the time. I have eyes and ears everywhere. I know what’s going on between you and my daughter.”   “Oh.”   “To be frank, I don’t care. If she’s going to make idiotic decisions, then she’ll have to bear the responsibilities and consequences herself.” He blinks. “But if I find that any failure is your fault, I will not be happy. Do you understand me?”   “Y-yes. I promise to make your daughter happy, Mr. ____. I-I w-won’t disappoint you.”   The corner of his mouth curls into a ghost of a smile. But he turns away before Taehyung can get a good look. “You’re not asking for my daughter’s hand in marriage, son. I wouldn’t give it to you if you did anyway. But you don’t need to look so scared. I don’t have plans to kill you...any time soon.”   “Oh. Okay. T-Thanks.”   “Get rid of the lemonade before a bird drinks it and dies.”   “Yes, sir.”   While he scatters off, back inside the house, he catches your line of sight. You wonder what your dad and Taehyung were discussing, if it was possibly about you. But your thoughts are interrupted when Jimin asks for the pliers beside your left foot.    Whatever the case may be, you’re glad they’re getting along with one another.   //   You take your coat off the rack, clearing your throat. “The...roof’s done. At least for now. Call me if there’s any leakage or issues with it.”   “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He lingers by the doorway, back hunched from decades of hard work. “There’s no need to worry.”   “Alright. Then, I should get going then.” Your hands stuff themselves in your pockets. “They’re waiting for me outside, so…”   “Go ahead.”   You turn around, facing the surface of the door. But before you open it, you swivel on your feet, question on the tip of your tongue. “Have you been eating well?”   “I have.” Your dad nods. “You don’t need to be concerned for me. I know how to take care of myself.”   “Right. It- uh, seems kind of cold in here, so if you need me to mess with the thermostat or fix any heating issue, you can call me.”   “I’ll make a note of that.”   You hesitate. For some reason, there’s something stopping you from walking straight out the door like you should, something on the tip of the tongue that you want to spill out. You’re held back and you look at your father once more, mustering the courage you don’t have. “Let me come again. I’d….like to visit again, if that’s okay with you.”   “You can do whatever you want,” he deadpans, but then his voice warms, even just by a little. “I’ll always welcome you.”   You’re not used to physical affection — it’s still difficult to get used to how Taehyung throws his arm around your shoulder, how he holds your hand or cuddles when you’re trying to watch TV. You hate being emotionally vulnerable — it feels like a weakness even though it isn’t. And most of all, you struggle to show your dad that you care.   But you hope he can feel it, even if you don’t say it out loud.    “Are we going to go eat anywhere?” Jimin strolls down the neighborhood, forgetting about his duty of guarding and protecting the person beside you. “I’m starving.”   “I know a good sushi place a block away,” Seokjin notes to the other man’s glee.   “Hey.” Taehyung nudges you, speaking in a murmur to keep the conversation private. “Is everything alright?”   “Y-yeah.” You take a sigh of relief, shoulder losing their tension. You meet his eyes. “Everything’s great.”   He smiles softly. “I’m glad.”   You did it. It hits you now as you walk away. You did it without anyone’s help, and it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t scary or frightening or terrible. He never slammed the door in your face or looked at you in disdain and disappointment. It was normal. Your dad was welcoming.   The next time you visit is a week later. And strangely enough, the fridge isn’t empty upon your arrival. Rather, there’s fresh ingredients on shelves and plastic bags. He insists on cooking dinner as a way to thank you for fixing the roof or as he says ‘returning the favour’. But you wonder how long it took him to think of this, to learn and memorize a recipe and act nonchalantly like it came from the top of his head. You wonder how long he’s been waiting for you to come back, what he would’ve done if the ingredients had gone stale.   He’s never cooked before and you watch him mumble to himself helplessly until you help chop the carrots. For the first time there’s a tight feeling in your chest….an emotion you’re not quite sure of but that you’ve felt before—   Family. It comes to you as you take in the cozy atmosphere. For the first time, being with your dad feels like you two are part of a family, and not distant relatives with professional obligations.   Your dad tries and that’s all that matters.   You just have to thank Taehyung for giving you the push forward.

[normal-piece-of-shit]

Of Life and Heroes

Chapter 5: Everything is weird.

"Hey Chloe, you wouldn't happen to know how to hijack a get-away helicopter ride, would you?"

"Surprisingly, I kinda do know how to hijack a get-away helicopter ride." Chloe answered without missing a beat.

Marinette only shook her head in fondness and hid a small smile. "I learned long ago to never question you. Let's start moving."

"This is gonna be so fun."

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

His feet landed on the roof swift and quiet. So did another pair of feet. He didn't need to look around to know who it was.

"That was quick. I thought you'd left when I told you to." He made sure to show the new arrival his famous glare.

"No need to be so annoyed, demon spawn. I was only making sure that the girl didn't disintegrate in your presence." Red Hood said.

"We were doing just fine."

"Yeah, making all these promises and all. I never thought you'd have the ability to care."

Robin only scowled in response. "There's a hole right there." He pointed at the next roof, "The robber probably made that for an entrance. It's best that we get going."

Without waiting for an answer, he took off.

Even from an distance, you would've been able to hear Red Hood saying "You changed the topic! You can't escape the batfam!"

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

"Stop stepping on my face, Chloe!"

"Where else do I step?!" Chloe huffed, "What made you think climbing all the way up to the roof was a good idea? We could've just jumped over them."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "We're not in shape for that, we could fall to our deaths like Chat Noir fell for Ladybug. Fast ."

"I wish we had our miraculous, this would've been much easier with them." Chloe muttered. Marinette absentmindedly rubbed the spot where her earrings used to be.

"It's a dangerous responsibility, Chloe. It would've only made our lives harder." She explained with gritted teeth. "Though I do miss Tikki." She whispered the last part slowly and with a sadness the size of the Eiffel Tower.

The atmosphere was melancholic after that. None of them spoke, only comforting each other with silence. Atleast until they reached the top.

"What's the hold up, Chloe? Are we on the wrong roof again?"

"No. Its-Its something weirder." Chloe's face was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "I think you should have a look at this."

Marinette climbed up and was just as confused as Chloe- if not more- when she saw it. It was way more than just weird.

"What is that?!"

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

Robin jumped into the hole without sparing a second glance to his surroundings. He didn't need to anyway, he'd already scanned them.

"Well you're here early."

He groaned at the other voice. "Just tell me what you've learned so far, Nightwing."

"Well, I've learned that our little flower here suits the identity of an angel more-"

"About the enemy! What have you learned about the enemy!"

Nightwing sighed in exasperation. "I just got here, baby bird. We've still got to find out."

"He shouldn't be too hard to defeat. Let's just go."

"Don't be reckless. It's best we have the element of surprise. You should know bette-" whatever speech Nightwing was planning to give him was cut short as the robber came in sight. Nightwing gaped at scene infront of them.

Robin was no better. All that he could respond with was "What is that?!"

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Aaaaand cut! There ends my chapter. I tried to get this done quick but I had to rewrite it a lot so....yeah.

I thought today would be a good time to post since I got a 100 followers which is so unbelievable but wow. Thank y'all so much. I appreciate it.

Anyway, here's the tag-list:

@themcclan @creator-josie @constancetruggle. @felicityroth @zalladane @kurogaya913 @northernbluetongue @doli09