#we’ll find out the rest of the cast this week i believe!

[blue-orangeade]

WHO’S READY FOR HWAITING 2??

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 13)

summary: now that filming for deadpool & wolverine has finished, you and hugh go back home to new york and he asks you a very important question. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: smut (18+, mdni), hugh can't control himself, spooning (?) position, light choking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.7k a/n: surprise! new chapter dropping a day early hehe. anyway, i've anticipated that this story will have a total of 19 parts (at least for what i have outlined!). we got a few chapters of some good ol' fluff and smut, so hope y'all enjoy! thank you all for reading! 💙💛 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

You and the rest of the cast and crew are listening to Shawn make a brief speech about the movie, about all the hard work everyone’s put into creating this. It chokes you up, tears stinging your eyes as you do your best to take more photographs. This opportunity was once in a lifetime and now that you and Hugh will be heading home, you wonder if things will change. You had been by his side for the duration of filming and you can’t imagine going back to New York and not being able to sleep next to him, or even wake up with him by your side. 

You look up at Hugh for a moment, still in his Wolverine costume but a large black coat draped around him to keep him warm. You lean against him, his eyes gazing down at you as he leans down to kiss the side of your temple. After Shawn’s speech finishes, everyone claps and celebrates the end of filming. 

You pull away from Hugh to continue to capture moments, smiling to yourself. Some are smiling, some are crying – everyone who was part of this movie had given their all and you just can’t wait to see the finished product for it. You manage to sneak away from the crowd, deciding to walk around the set. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get to do this again and certainly not with this group of people. It’s bittersweet actually – having to go back home and face reality. 

You stop walking for a moment and hear Hugh’s voice calling your name. You turn to face him, seeing him jog slowly over to you. He gently takes your hand and pulls you into him, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You snuck away,” he points out.

“Just wanted to get one last look,” you smile, moving your arms around him. “Can’t believe we’re gonna be home tomorrow.” 

“This project has been a dream,” Hugh admits. “And having you here made it even better.” 

You look up at him, linking your hands at his lower back. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For bringing me here with you.” 

“I’d miss you hell of a lot if you weren’t here,” Hugh chuckles. “Are you ready to be back in New York?” 

You shrug. “I’m gonna miss seeing everyone everyday. I’m gonna miss seeing you everyday.” 

Hugh smiles, bringing a hand up to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Me too, baby. I’ve gotten used to you being next to me when I sleep and wake up. Hard to think that we won’t have that when we get back home…” he continues. 

“We’ll manage,” you smile. “I believe in us.” 

Hugh grins. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” he teases.

“That’s something I usually say to you,” you laugh, burying your face against his chest. 

Hugh chuckles and holds you close, shutting his eyes as he holds you in his arms. He isn’t sure how things will change when you both go back to New York, but he has been thinking of asking you a question for months now. When he pulls away, Hugh looks down at you and gently leans in to peck your lips. “Will you stay the week with me when we get back home?” 

“I’d like that.” 

“Good,” Hugh says quietly. “Because I don’t think I wanna let you go yet.” 

“Hm,” you whisper. “You must really love me.”

“More than you even know, baby.” 

—

Back in New York, Hugh finds that having you in his apartment is where you should be. You’re so comfortable in his space and he enjoys the ability to wake up and sleep next to you. It’s something he had gotten used to during filming. The question he’s been wanting to ask lingers over him – even now, when you’re sitting on his couch in a pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts with a book in your lap, he wants so badly to ask you the one question that’s been on his mind. 

He wonders if maybe he’s moving too fast, if maybe you’re not quite ready to take that next step in your relationship. Hugh slowly walks over to you, seeing you look up from your book and a smile immediately lines your lips. He feels his heart race at the sight – almost like he had fallen in love all over again. He watches you set your book on the coffee table and lean back against the couch, arms spread open for him.

Hugh crawls over you and settles himself between your legs, head resting against your chest as his arms wrap around you. He shuts his eyes, feeling your fingertips run through his hair as he lets out a contented sigh. “Hi, baby.” 

“Hey,” you whisper, smiling down at him. “How was the run?”

“Would rather have done cardio with you,” he teases and nuzzles his face further into you, pressing a soft kiss on your chest. 

“You’re insatiable,” you laugh quietly.

“Not true. I’m just addicted to you,” Hugh corrects, slowly opening his eyes to look up at you. 

You roll your eyes playfully, a small smile lining your lips as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “What’s gonna happen when I have to go home then?” 

Hugh bites his lower lip, chin resting against your chest as your fingers continue to run through his hair. “What if…” he whispers quietly. “What if you just stay here?” 

“I’ve been here for almost a week, Hugh.”

“I know, but I mean…” Hugh crawls further up your body, hand moving to prop himself up as he stares down at you. “What if you just move in?”

Your eyes slightly widen and you slowly begin to sit up, Hugh following your movements to sit next to you instead. His arm drapes over the back of the couch, a nervous expression written across his features. “You want me to move in? That’s– That’s a big step, Hugh. Are you sure?” 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he answers. “I want you here all the time, but if you still need time, still need space, then I understand. It’s just–” Hugh sighs. “I’ve been thinking about asking you to move in with me for months now.”

“Hugh…” 

He shakes his head, standing up from the couch. “Ah, it’s okay, baby. I don’t want to push you. We can reevaluate at another time.”

“Wait, hey,” you sigh, watching him walk towards the kitchen. You stand up and follow him, seeing him gather his cup and protein. He isn’t looking at you, focused on making his protein shake. “Hugh…” You walk around the counter and gently rest a hand over his forearm, urging him to look at you. When he does, you can see the distress in his features, the subtle embarrassment flickering in his expression. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he sighs. 

“Are you sure about me moving in?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Baby,” Hugh runs a hand over his face and lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sure, but if you’re not ready yet, that’s okay too.” 

“Ask me again,” you say.

“What?” 

“Ask me again,” you repeat. 

“Baby,” Hugh shakes his head. 

“Hugh, ask me again.” 

He bites his lower lip and turns to face his entire body at you. Hugh moves his hands to rest on your hips, clearing his throat anxiously. “Will you move in with me?” 

You move your hands to his cheeks, brushing your thumbs across his soft skin. “Yes, I’d love to move in with you, Hugh.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah, Hugh,” you smile. 

Slowly, a large grin lines his lips and he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you gently off your feet. “Oh, baby, I love you.” he leans in and presses his lips against yours, moving his hands under your legs to lift you onto the counter of his kitchen island. 

Pulling away, you move your hands to his shoulders as he stands between your legs. His hands move along your thighs, biting the inside of his cheek as he keeps his eyes focused on you. “So, I’m moving in.”

“Yeah, yeah you are.” 

—

The next couple of weeks were spent moving your things out of your apartment and into Hugh’s home. This last year with him doesn’t feel real – part of you feels like you’re going to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. You’ve been doing a lot better with your self-talk, with your confidence, and it helps having Hugh and your personal trainer to help you. Jack, on the other hand, hasn’t reached out to you since that night on location. You’re grateful though because you aren’t sure what would happen if he continued to be persistent. 

After all of your things have been moved to Hugh’s place, you look around and notice that your life is now blending in with Hugh’s. He had told his kids about you, even having had the chance to meet them in person. You had told your parents about Hugh, hesitant at first because of the age gap, but they were just glad to see you happy after Jack. 

Hugh comes home late one night after dinner with Shawn and Ryan, only to find you already lying in bed, back facing the door as you’re asleep on your side. The blanket doesn’t do a good job at covering your body because it’s tangled between your legs, exposing your legs and backside for him. He clears his throat at the sight of you, dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of black panties. Quietly, he undoes his jeans and lowers it down his legs, kicking them silently to the side. He grabs the end of his shirt and lifts it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Now clad in a pair of boxer briefs with his manhood straining the fabric, Hugh slowly climbs into bed, snuggling you from behind. 

His hand moves to your hip, slowly brushing it down the side of your leg and back up to tease the waistband of your panties. Hugh feels you move back against him, your backside now flush with his growing erection. You let out a quiet whimper and unconsciously roll your hips back into him. Hugh leans in and presses soft and light kisses along the side of your neck, your whimpers and moans coming out quiet and breathless. 

He moves his hand lower and pushes your panties to the side, his fingertips brushing against your slit. Hugh sees your eyes flutter open, mouth slightly agape as you stare up at him with slightly sleepy eyes. 

“H– Hugh,” you moan. “You’re back.” 

“Sorry I came home late,” Hugh whispers into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he slowly slides one finger into your depths. He groans quietly, feeling your wetness soak his digit. “Been dreaming about me, baby? You’re already wet.”

“Always dream of you,” you whimper, tossing your head back against his shoulder. 

Hugh smirks against you and uses his free arm to wrap around your shoulders, cupping your neck as he applies slight pressure to your throat. He hears you gasp and he thrusts another digit into you, beginning to move his fingers in and out of your soaking heat. “Love coming home to you,” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe. 

“Hugh,” you whimper, moving your hand to wrap around his wrist that’s slowly thrusting his fingers in lazy strokes. 

“I can’t control myself when I’m around you,” Hugh admits, keeping his fingers deeply flushed into your heat as he slowly begins to curl them within your depths. You arch your back against him, the sensations of his fingers, his throbbing length against your backside, and his hand around your throat becomes overwhelming – this wasn’t what you expected to happen when he came home from dinner.

“Baby, please,” you moan. 

“Need you bad,” Hugh growls. He pulls his fingers from you and uses the same hand to push his briefs down his legs, kicking them off and away from the bed. He takes a hold of himself and uses your slickness from his fingers to lubricate himself. “Won’t last long,” he admits. 

“Just need you, please,” you whimper, feeling his tip brush against your opening. “Hugh, god, please!” 

Hugh chuckles lowly into your ear, tightening his grip around your throat just slightly as he pushes himself past your folds. He groans and moves his hand from the base of his member to grip your hip, pulling you back into him as he pushes his hips forward. “Fuck, baby,” he moans. “Always feel so good around me.”

He moves the top of your leg slightly forward, opening yourself even further to him as he slides inch by inch into your tight and wet heat. Hugh drops his hand from your throat to grasp your breast from over the shirt you’re wearing, your back flush against his chest. This position is new for the both of you – it’s intimate, slow. 

With his hand on your hip, he grips it tightly as he continues his slow and deep thrusts, eyes falling shut. Hugh’s sounds of pleasure – grunts, growls, and groans – echo in your ear and it only drives you closer to your high. You feel every inch of his throbbing manhood move in and out of you, but your eyes widen slightly when his hand moves from your hip to your front, beginning to rub your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your panties. “Hugh!” 

“Yeah, I know,” he whispers with a growl. “Gotta come for me, baby.”

You nod and push back against him, his fingers applying pressure to your clit as he rubs it in circles. His thrusts become a bit more quick, almost erratic and you know that he’s close too. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, your walls beginning to tighten with each thrust forward. You rest the back of your head against his shoulder, eyes shut tight. Suddenly, when he growls into your ear, your walls tighten around him and you push back into him, body trembling against his own. 

Hugh grins to himself, holding you close to him as he thrusts in and out of you, using your tightened walls to get him closer and closer to his own release. “Baby,” he groans. “Gonna come, oh fuck–” Hugh shuts his eyes tight as he releases into you, his hips coming to a slow stop. 

You feel his warmth fill you up and he’s panting into your ear. When he pulls back slowly, you whimper, feeling the emptiness that his girth and length has left but feeling his seed trickle out of you. 

���I’m so glad you moved in,” Hugh whispers, placing a soft kiss on the side of your neck. “Can have you whenever I want.” 

You smile and slowly move to lie on your back, readjusting your panties to cover yourself up as you stare up at him. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek as he leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. “That was a nice thing to wake up to,” you admit.

“Yeah? You like that, huh?” Hugh winks. 

“Oh yeah,” you smile. “Guess I have to return the favor and wake you up in my own way now.” 

Hugh smirks and lies on his back, pulling you to his side. “Looking forward to it, baby.” 

“How was Ryan and Shawn?” 

“Good,” he answers. “Just planning for the press tour,” he says softly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Wish you could come with me.”

“I’m all booked with shoots for the next three months, baby.”

“I know,” Hugh turns his head and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll at least accompany me to the premiere of the movie right?”

“Like a red carpet premiere?” 

Hugh nods. “Yeah, I’d really love for you to be by my side that night.”

“It’ll be the first event since we got together…” 

“Is that okay?” 

You nod and lean up to peck his lips. “As long as I’ve got you, Hugh, that’s more than okay.”

Hugh grins. “And you’ve got me, baby. Always have, always will.”

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

@jules-and-gemss

[vinylmango]

Flower Delivery (pt. 3)

(ex!Nicholas alexander chavez x ex!black!reader)

Requests:

no cause you’re most recent nicholas chavez fic ATE DOWNNN girl pls write another i beg. or literally just other nicholas chavez fics cause your writing is incredible!! - 🍒

And

I know you literally just posted flower delivery part 2 but I need part three! It’s sooooo good!!!! - anon

Description: Just when you think your life is back on track and you landed a new leading role, he’s thrust back into your life when you find out he’s in the show too. Now as you start filming, you aren’t really sure what you want anymore.

Warnings: obsessive behaviors (cont’d), he’s your scene partner…turned kinda lover (kissing only), Ryan Murphy jumpscare (yikes), mentions of episode 4 of grotesquerie (just one scene)

Word count: 2.9k words

Note: Sorry for the delay on part 3, work has been working lol, but I really appreciate all of the kindness and love everyone has been showing my posts/page <3 I ended up writing this four different times before I finally decided I liked it lol and I decided to make it longer to make up for my lack of content since I posted the last one.

Also I know the timeline is a little wonky in this in terms of Nicholas’ filming schedule for Monsters and Grotesquerie, so let’s just pretend he finished filming for Monsters completely before starting filming for Grotesquerie.

Thanks for the request 🍒 and anon!

part one part two

masterlist

You couldn’t believe it, it was almost too good to be true. There hadn’t been any surprise deliveries or week-night break-ins for the past six months. It was almost like he just disappeared for the past six months, and part of you was relieved since you no longer had to worry about his annoying and unhinged behavior; but another part of you secretly missed him, although you had been trying to convince yourself that it was only because you had gotten so used to his presence that now it was just…different.

Since the last time he had showed up at your place unannounced you had finished the project you had been working on and landed a new lead role in a brand new Ryan Murphy project, Grotesquerie.

Although you were well aware of the controversies surrounding the director, your new agency convinced you to take the role. It was so different from anything you had ever done before, and you had been wanting to try the horror genre. It was so new, in fact, that you hadn’t even had the opportunity to meet the rest of the cast since you hadn’t auditioned in the traditional way and Ryan himself had asked you to take the role.

You were up bright and early to be on set for the first day of filming for Grotesquerie. You arrived on set at 6:30 and headed straight to the hair and makeup trailer after briefly saying hello to Ryan, the production team, and the other writers that were on set. You still hadn’t seen your scene partners, assuming they were in hair and makeup as well.

You fell into a comfortable conversation with the hair stylist and makeup artist, telling them about your other project and how you were a fairly new actor.

“Girl, don’t talk down about yourself like that. Everyone starts somewhere.” The makeup artist, Darryl, told you squeezing your shoulder as Keisha, your hair stylist, nodded in the mirror.

“Thanks.” You smiled at the pair of them before you all turned when your trailer door opened. A woman with bright red hair and green eyes walking in with a small smile on her face.

“Hey Sue!” Darryl and Keisha smiled and waved at her.

“Hey D. Hi Keisha!” The middle aged woman smiled. “Hi (y/n), it’s great to meet you. I’m Sue. I’m just here to make sure your wardrobe is correct for the upcoming scene.” She explained as you nodded. “We had a slight change to the filming schedule to work around scheduling conflicts for some of our crew so we’ll be filming a little out of order today.”

“Oh ok. No worries.” You smiled. “What’s the change?”

“Our intimacy coordinator has to pick her son up from school early today so we have to get the scenes she’s involved with out of the way first.” She explained. “When you’re done with hair and makeup and have your wardrobe on then she’ll quickly meet with you to discuss the way it will be filmed.”

“Ok. Thanks for the heads up, Sue.” You smiled again, though Darryl and Keisha could tell you were becoming anxious when Sue left.

“Don’t be nervous, (Y/n). Sarah, our intimacy coordinator, is amazing.” Keisha reassured you.

“And I know this is obviously your job, but the actor is…hot.” Darryl added after a slight pause. You and Keisha laughed as he pretended to fan himself.

Hair and makeup finished shortly after that and you were dressed and ready to go after Keisha made sure that the habit you wore in the scene was placed correctly.

You exited the trailer as you noticed a dark haired woman with curly hair was talking to a tall, broad man, dressed in a jacket with a thick white towel wrapped around his waist…your scene partner. Darryl was right. At least from the back, the man was hot and muscular.

Your hands grew clammy as you walked up to them, Sarah smiling and waving you over. You wore a small smile as you approached. The smile was replaced with your jaw nearly dropping when the man who was to be your scene partner turned around causing you to almost stop in your tracks. “(Y/n) have you met Nicholas yet?” Sarah asked as you joined their conversation.

“Yeah. We’ve…uh…met before.” You said, fighting against the lump in your throat that was forming. Your mouth was so dry it felt like you might choke. You swallowed visibly as Nicholas smirked at you.

You glanced over his appearance. Although the jacket he was wearing was pretty loose around him and pretty much hid his upper body completely, you could still tell he was way more muscular than he had been when you saw him last.

“Great!” She smiled with a clap of her hands. “Let’s head inside and talk through the scene then.” You and Nicholas nodded as you followed her inside the filming location. “Alright so the way the scene currently lays this out is (Y/n) you’ll come from the doorway to sit in this chair, Nicholas you’ll come from the bathroom there and then walk over to the door, close it, and then stand in front of the chair. You’ll say your lines and then (y/n) you’ll stand and you’ll walk backwards until you get to here.” She stopped at the dresser that was sitting below the cross that was on the wall. “Nicholas you’ll lift (y/n) and put her down sitting on the dresser and then the scene will play out…any questions about that?” She asks as you both shake your heads no. “Alright. Anything either of you don’t feel comfortable doing?”

“I’m ok.” Nicholas said, though you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face.

“I’m good.” You agreed, looking at Sarah instead.

“Great!” She smiled. “And the intimacy garments are ok? Do either of you want a different one?”

“This one is ok, thanks Sarah.” You told her as Nicholas agreed.

“It’s good, thanks Sarah.”

“Alright, great. Thank you guys. I’ll be behind the camera the whole time so if we need to do a few takes I’ll be here to help with anything. If you want to try something else at any time we can do that too.” She explained as you both nodded.

How did you always manage to get yourself into situations like these?

She excused herself, telling the pair of you that she was off to get the production team and Ryan to let them know you both were good to go. Nicholas turned to you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and an almost wolfish grin on his face.

You had to admit that he did look really good. The way he was leaning allowed you to see his abs between the gap in the jacket since he hadn’t zipped it up. “You’re staring.”

“You’re the one smirking at me.” You redirected as he stood up off the wall and took a step closer to you.

“Like what you see?” His voice seemed deeper, huskier, as his dark eyes scanned over you before settling back on yours. He sent you a wink as Ryan and the production team followed by Sarah came back and Nicholas walked past you to his mark, handing his jacket to an assistant as you went into the hallway to wait for the scene to start.

“Action!” You heard the sound of the water shut off and you peaked your head into Father Charlie’s room before coming to stand in the doorway.

He glanced back before walking to stand a few paces in front of you next to the bed, the towel low on his hips and water droplets cascading down his chest. His hair was pushed back from his face and wet as if he really had just gotten out of the shower. “You were watching me. Earlier in the rec room.” He paused, watching your expression but you remained neutral. “Anything worth seeing?”

“It…It was…” you paused for a moment, letting out a breath. “An exhalation of God’s glory through physical prowess.”

“Yeah?” Nicholas sat on the bed, his face turned slightly down but his eyes raised to look over at you. A slow smile appeared on his face. That was not scripted, you knew that for sure. “It’s kinda become my side hustle.” He said after a second. Back to the script. He said his other lines as you continued to sit in the chair, back stiff against the back of the chair as your hands laid in your lap.

“They say…it’s a sin of the flesh, but, I say-“ he began to say as you cut him off with your lines.

“Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, which is in you? Therefore honor God with your bodies.” You responded softly as he nodded, breathing out a simple ‘Yes’.

He stood up from the bed and stopped to stand in front of you, your gaze following him. He smirked at you, something the camera didn’t catch, before dropping the expression and walking to the door and closing it. To say your heart was beating fast would’ve been an understatement.

“This is exactly what they’re talking about right now at the Vatican.” You zoned out for a moment after he started delivering his lines, walking to stand in front of you again. You zoned back in when you heard the end of his line “celibacy, for those in the cloth.”

He reached over to you as you sharply inhaled when his fingers played with the cross necklace you wore. That wasn’t scripted either. You could see that he enjoyed catching you off guard and no one was yelling cut because the extra touches made sense for your characters.

“That’s…That’s difficult to imagine.” Your voice caught and he smirked as you looked up at him and swallowed thickly. It was an honest mistake on your part, but Nicholas was eating it up. At moments it was hard to tell whether he was currently in the mindset of Father Charlie Mayhew or Nicholas Chavez.

He licked his lips, still holding onto the necklace, his voice lowering. “Is it really so difficult?” He said more but you zoned out again when his hand released your necklace and unbuttoned your vest. He was delivering his lines while standing to the side of you, bent down in your face, so your faces were only inches apart.

You dropped the newspaper in your hand as he continued unbuttoning your vest, slowly. You hadn’t meant to, but no one yelled cut again, so you assumed it was fine. “The church is dying, Mother Eva.” He said as you breathed out again, not breaking eye contact. You could see in his eyes that he was amused, he definitely was enjoying this scene.

He delivered more lines and bent in closer to you and you couldn’t help your instinctive reaction. Your lips parted as if you were preparing for him to kiss you, like he used to do. All of this was like a flashback to how it used to be, and yeah, he had been unhinged but there was no denying that he was incredibly passionate.

“They know that change must come.” He said softly, your nose touching his before he stepped back completely from you, this time standing directly in front of you. He looked down at you as you took the opportunity to look over his body before looking down at the towel like you were supposed to do. You followed the scene instructions and pulled the towel from around his waist, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. You looked back up slowly at his face, your lips slightly parted as you watched him.

“It is still a sin.” You said as he picked your hand up and kissed your hand and wrist. He walked you over to the dresser like the scene outlined.

“We are…and we always will be.” He backed you up into the dresser, your shoes hitting it causing it to bump against the wall.

“Sinners.” You finished, practically whispering as your eyes looked over his face as he picked you up onto the dresser, his hands running down your sides as he stood in between your legs and your lips practically touched.

“So fuck it.” You could feel the movement of his lips against yours as he spoke, pulling the vest from your arms as you pushed your chest into him to get the vest off. He began unbuttoning your shirt and pulled the edge off one shoulder as he began to kiss there, your hands going to his hair.

Someone behind the camera coughed and the loud “Cut!” pulled you both completely out of the scene. You let out a gasp as Nicholas pressed a lingering kiss to your neck before stepping back.

You blinked a few times, your hands holding onto the edge of the dresser, as you let out a breath. You didn’t miss the way Nicholas wore a smug expression, but your smile widened when you pointed down subtly.

Nicholas raised his shoulders in a shrug as he secured the towel back around his waist. “Let’s take 15 and run it again. Thanks Jerry for ruining that take!” Ryan called passive aggressively. Jerry, the man who coughed, looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him up.

You slid off the dresser and walked to your trailer, not noticing the way Nicholas excused himself just after you, easily falling into step behind you.

You fell onto the couch with a huff, annoyed at yourself for being reminded of the past. You were over him, there was no way you were going to entertain him again. All he did was bring chaos into your life.

“He broke into your apartment, remember?” You whispered to yourself, eyes widening when your trailer door opened and in walked Nicholas, closing and locking the door behind him.

“I know you still feel the same way I do.” He started as you shook your head. He stepped closer to you, standing in front of you much like the scene you had just had.

“You’re wrong.” He shook his head, smiling at your stubbornness.

“I saw the way you were looking at me. You got into it. It wasn’t just acting.”

“Says the guy who just tried to give me an unscripted hickey.” You retorted defensively, standing up suddenly and poking him. He caught your hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he pulled you closer, leaning down so he was only a couple inches away from your lips.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He whispered as you remained quiet. “Tell me you don’t want me to ki-“ He was cut off by your lips crashing into his. You weren’t even thinking at that point. He was intoxicating, everything about him was intoxicating and you knew that you should just stay away, but it was him. It was hard to make rational decisions when he was so close and his very presence cleared all of the rationality from your brain.

He pulled back after the heated kiss, a smirk on his face as he looked at you. “So I was right.” He remarked, there goes the cockiness.

“Oh my God, just shut up.” You rolled your eyes before he obliged and pulled you close, his hands traveling up and down your body as yours ran through his hair and held onto his shoulders and biceps. He broke the kiss again to plant kisses from your lips to your neck, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin on your neck, surely leaving a mark that you weren’t sure how you would explain.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You said, but you didn’t pull away from him. “The camera is going to see all of the marks you're leaving and we won’t be able to explain it away.”

“We’re filming a sex scene. It’ll be fine.” He decided as your nails ran down his arms, careful of the makeup and special effects on his back.

He groaned against your lips when a loud knock at the trailer door interrupted your activities. “They’re ready for you on set. Hair and makeup is just going to do some touch ups before we shoot again.” An assistant called as you placed a hand on his chest and stepped back.

“See you on set.” You said before stepping out of the trailer and walking over towards where Keisha and Darryl were waiting to do touch ups.

“(Y/n), why is your makeup so messed up around your mouth? Y'all didn’t even shoot a kiss yet.”

Let me know what else you’d like to see or share any ideas you might have!

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track four: a conflict of interest

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, MIDTERMS, alcohol, PTSD/trauma, panic attack, naoya, discussion of car crash (not directly described), mention of deceased parent, literal wholesome sleeping together. || sfw. 8.4k words.

YOU’VE ALWAYS LOVED fall—the sharp, cool note that tacks itself onto the breeze, the crunch of leaves beneath the wheels of your longboard, the early sunsets over the shapes of the campus skyline. Usually, a week this beautiful would find you outside enjoying it. But for the same reason that you haven’t gotten Takuma alone since Saturday, you’ve been cooped up indoors, frying your brain.

The problem is midterms.

The week is a blur of class and homework and reporting and rehearsals, and you hardly ever see Takuma, or really anyone outside of your classes and rehearsals, save for the brief comings and goings of your housemates at strange hours of the day. You’re all drowning in work, and any wish you have of talking to Takuma without the rest of his band present washes itself away in an avalanche of assignments and emails and post-it note to-do lists all over your desk.

When you see him with Megumi and Yuji and Kirara, the both of you dance around all the things you want to say. Because you have to. You don’t have time to flesh this out, put a label on it.

You and Toge spend hours wrapping up your project story. Your comp midterm is eight to nine double-spaced pages of hell, excluding citations, and on top of it you’re balancing media law case studies and your elective comparative lit class.

And this is one of your lighter semesters.

Your housemates don’t have it any easier, Yuta and Maki wrapped up in senior capstone proposals, Nobara grinding her way through the rest of her gen. eds and practicing marketing presentations in the mirror, even Toge scrambling to get work done.

Between cramming and writing and squeezing naps in wherever you can, you and Takuma orbit around the unspoken truth of your kiss on the roof, borderline flirty but never crossing that line. Not over the phone.

you: how goes the algorithming you: or whatever the fuck takuma: I’M DYING takuma: KM GOING CROSSEYED takuma: havent touched grass in days. eons even you: :( same you: we’ll touch grass when this is over takuma: if it snows i will literally dig it up for you istg

You laugh despite yourself, sighing as you lean back in your desk chair, looking out the window. God, you want to kiss this boy again. Fuck school, fuck your busy schedules. Christ, you can’t believe it’s only Wednesday.

you: aw for me takuma: anything for you🫡

It shouldn’t make you blush so furiously in the privacy of your own room, but it does.

A soft knock on the doorframe draws your attention, and you spin in your chair to find Yuta leaning there. His dark hair is a mess, like he’s just taken off a hat, and his cheeks are red with the bite of cold air. He must’ve just gotten home.

“Yuta!”

“Hey.” He grins, holds up his phone so you can see the time. “You eaten yet?” It’s a rhetorical question. You shake your head, recognizing the call to action for what it is, and close your laptop, joining him at the doorway. You need a break, anyway—you just wrapped up a draft of a paper, and you need to do something else before you look it over with fresh eyes.

“Wanna make stir fry?” you ask, and Yuta lights up.

“Read my mind.”

The kitchen is cast in gold as the sun sinks over the rooftops, and you smile at the little hello, my name is stickers on Yuta’s plants in the windowsill. As the two of you grab bowls and pans and ingredients from the fridge, you realize you haven’t really spent one-on-one time with him in a while. You’ve missed it.

“We haven’t done this in forever,” you say, tossing a green pepper over your shoulder. He catches it with one hand and puts it on the cutting board.

“I know,” he laughs, gentle in the same way that everything Yuta does is gentle, and you’re suddenly struck with the horrible thought of how much you’re going to miss him next year. “I feel like we haven’t had any one-on-one time recently. But I’ve been meaning to, uh… well, I should thank you, for giving me that time with Maki. I don’t know that I’d have made a move if not for you.”

“So you’re the one who made the move?” You grin, elbowing him fondly. “Maki wasn’t very forthcoming with the details.”

“I wouldn’t say I made the first move,” he admits. “I started making dinner, and then she started scribbling on something over by the plants. And I was so confused, and then I realized she’d bought these.” He gestures to the plant name tags, a fond smile on his face. Half the handwriting is Yuta’s loopy scrawl, and the other half is Maki’s more jagged counterpart. “She knew all their names. Which is crazy. Sometimes I barely remember.”

You move to the cutting board and start on the peppers while Yuta fires up the stovetop. “That’s sweet,” you say. “You guys are good together. I’ve only been waiting for like, an entire year.”

Yuta chuckles and looks over his shoulder at you. “I asked how she remembered all the names and she said something along the lines of did you know people actually listen when you talk, and I’ve never been particularly good at hiding my facial expressions.” You snort, because you know that better than anyone. “And then I said Toge definitely doesn’t, and she rolled her eyes and said I kept missing the point.”

“Oh, smooth.” You move over so Yuta can reach into the cabinet above you for the seasoning. “And then you asked what the point is?”

“Mhm.” Yuta hip-checks you lightly as he moves back to his place by the stove, and you relish the familiarity of it. He’s one of your best friends, and you’ve missed doing this with him, cooking with him, talking to him. “She said the point is I’m an oblivious dumbass who should just shut up and kiss her already. So I did.”

You have to put the knife down as your laugh bursts out, shaking your shoulders, because that’s the most Maki thing you’ve ever heard. “And you’re together now?”

“Mhm.” Yuta flushes a little. “She’s great. I wasn’t really gonna say anything… ever? She’s out of my league, Skip.”

It should maybe feel like a bigger deal that Maki and Yuta are finally a thing, but in a way, it’s like nothing has changed. They’ve always been close, and you’ve always known they’re perfect for each other. It felt inevitable, and now it’s happened, and it feels right.

“You’re both out of everyone’s league,” you correct, turning to lean against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. “And neither of you think you deserve each other, which is exactly why you do.” He smiles, shy and small, and your heart warms in your chest. “I’m happy for you, Yuta.”

“Thanks.” He ducks his head a little, his tell-tale sign of embarrassment, like when Takuma scratches the back of his neck. God, why does everything remind you of Takuma?

Like he can read your mind, Yuta says, “Your turn. You and Ino? I know everyone’s in the loop except me.”

The next half hour or so passes with you explaining the details of your night with Takuma yet again, the smell of stir fry eventually drawing Toge out from the cave (his and Yuta’s bedroom) around the same time Nobara sweeps through the door with Maki in tow. It’s the first time the five of you have been in the same room outside of rehearsals all week.

“Ooh, my god,” Nobara sighs, smelling the stir fry. “That’s the good shit. I owe you my life.”

“You can do the dishes,” you suggest, and she deflates as she unwinds the scarf around her neck and tosses it on a hook with her coat.

“I’ve made a fatal mistake,” she says.

“How’re midterms?” Maki asks as she brushes past you, tossing her jacket onto a chair, and you shrug. In response, Toge puts his head face-down on the counter, and Maki looks to Yuta, waiting for his answer. It’s like they don’t know how they’re supposed to interact in front of you all, now that the whole band knows.

“You don’t have to dance around each other anymore,” Nobara points out, blunt as ever. “We’ve watched you do that for years. I honestly think I’d rather watch you be gross.”

Toge raises a brow. “Careful what you wish for.”

“Let’s break the ice! Let’s talk about it!” Nobara crows, grabbing you by the elbow. “Reenactment, Skip. You be Yuta.” She leans dramatically over the plants, pretending to write on the name tag stickers. “This one is Pikachu.” Yuta definitely does not have a plant named Pikachu. “You’re an obtuse asshole, Yuta Okkotsu,” Nobara says in a truly horrendous impression of Maki, turning around and grabbing you by the shoulders. “Now kiss me.”

“Oh my god,” Maki says flatly. “I hate you.”

“She didn’t call me an asshole!” Yuta says indignantly.

Maki nudges him with a shoulder, which is probably the closest thing to PDA you’ll get out of them for weeks. Nobara’s teasing will only make them less willing to show affection in front of the rest of you. Maybe it’s reverse psychology and that is what she wants.

“Table,” Yuta says, pointing to Toge. “Nobara, go sit in the corner and think about your actions. Maki, could you grab the plates?”

“Girlfriend privilege!” Nobara cries, not making any move to listen to Yuta. She grins at you and you can’t help but smile back. She’s being obnoxious about it, but she also held in her teasing about their relationship for ages until they figured it out on their own. You know she’s just as happy for them as you are.

“You better keep Ino away from this one,” Maki says as she dishes up the stir fry and slides the plates across the counter to Toge, who ferries them over to the table without complaint. Nobara wiggles her brows at you in a way that very obviously says you can try, but you will fail.

When the five of you crowd the little table in the makeshift dining room, it’s honestly the most relaxed you’ve felt all week. For an hour it’s just you and your best friends, talking and ranting and joking and eating some damn good stir fry, and you can forget about all the work piling up on your desk and the boy down the street you desperately need to talk to and the performance in two days that’ll decide your band’s fate. It’s good.

You grin at Nobara as she gestures with her hands while telling a story about this girl in her marketing class, at Toge trying and failing to steal the snap peas from Yuta’s plate, at Maki fondly watching it all unfold.

Despite her earlier complaints, Nobara doesn’t hesitate to get started on the dishes, and Toge dries while you sit at the stool by the counter and chat with them. Nobara shoves a plate at Toge to try and he nearly drops it onto one of the plants, earning him a look from Yuta very reminiscent of a parent scolding their child.

"Sorry, Snorlax," Toge says to the plant he nearly attacked. "Hey, these are helpful, actually. Good job, Maki."

You stare at the name tags, something starting to grow in the back of your mind. Hello! My name is...

"Yes," you breathe. And then you launch out of your seat and grab your notebook from the other room.

You have an idea.

—

You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, spinning a drumstick in your right hand as The Cull wraps up their ten-decibels-too-loud set onstage. Waiting in the wings, Hakari and another stage tech linger by your kit, waiting to swap it out, and the rest of your band goes through their usual pre-performance rituals.

Maki leans against the wall, eyes closed, moving her fingers along her bass without making any sound. Yuta’s quietly checking his tuning for the thousandth time tonight. Nobara does laps around the backstage area, humming and mouthing words to herself, her guitar carefully leaning against the wall beside you.

Toge is straight up just dancing to the other band’s music in the corner.

And you’re here, spinning your sticks between your thumb and index finger, index and middle, middle and ring, ring and pinky, back again. Back and forth, back and forth, the worn wood dancing across your knuckles.

Midterms are over. Projects and papers are turned in, exams are taken, laptops are strewn forgotten across the living room for the weekend. All your attention is here and now, Friday at The Fix, Battle of the Bands. Lifeblood might be a good word for it, you think, whatever this kind of rush is to you. It’s electric.

The Cull finishes with a screeching of guitars and a held-out note that could very possibly be classified as a scream, and then Panda takes the stage, the techs start moving, and the other band files past you in the backstage area.

You nod as they slip by and they return the gesture, not seeming all that interested, but you don’t care. It’s time.

Sliding onto the throne, you adjust the hi-hat and pound the kick a few times. Nobara winks at you from center stage, and you make eye contact with each of your bandmates in turn, confirming they’re tuned and plugged in and ready to go.

And then you launch into your new song, unable to help the smile spreading across your face.

It begins with a drum solo, a mild rhythm on the floor tom. You add the kick, then move to hat, and Maki comes in, then Toge, then the guitars. And then Nobara leans forward and starts to sing.

“You’re in the corner watchin’, at the party, Solo cup in hand. I’m on the dance floor, one more wild girl who needs a place to land.” You glance out over the crowd, stage light blinding you from your position toward the back of the stage. You can’t see shit, but it’s like you can feel his eyes on you.

“Been goin’ solo, flying so low, meet your eyes and draw you close.” Nobara yanks the mic off the stand and belts,“You ask my name, I tap your chest, and I say you already know!”

Power chord, two big beats, one, two, three, crash—

“Hello, my name is everything you ever asked your gods about. Hello, my name is somebody who needs a guy to take me out…”

The music washes over you, thrums from the soles of your sneakers to the tips of your fingers, gets you high on spotlights and amp feedback. You wrote this song about a lot of things. On a surface level, it’s Maki and Yuta’s song, drawn from the name tags on the kitchen plants. But on another level, it’s about Takuma, and you know your whole band knows it.

“Hello, hello, my name is yours if you want it,” Nobara finishes, and you finish with two cymbal hits and a kick, grabbing the cymbals between thumb and index finger immediately after to mute them. It’s a sharper finish than a lot of your songs, punchier, and it feels good.

“We’re Cursed Technique!” Nobara shouts, and Yuta plucks a few strings as he retunes for one of your older tracks. The set goes by all too fast, and then you’re finishing with Next Fix, the beat under your hands familiar and automatic. You’re on my mind at two a.m., you help me find deliverance, I think it’s time I get my fix.

You’d stay here forever if you could, just making music with your favorite people, but your set ends and you have to retreat backstage, Black Flash passing you in the wing as they prepare to round out the night.

“That was awesome,” Kasumi Miwa whispers as she passes you, and you grin.

“You’ll be awesome.”

When Mai appears around the corner, she stops short. You glance at Maki and realize Yuta’s hand is on the small of her back, and Mai has zeroed in on it. Yuta looks like he’s about to pass out, his hand frozen a half-inch away from Maki’s back like he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse to let go, but Maki seems entirely unfazed.

Instead of addressing Maki, though, Mai looks right at Yuta, a slender brow raised in an expression you aren’t quite sure how to interpret. On Maki, it would be teasing, but on Mai it could be a challenge or a threat or a judgment just as easily.

But she only says, “Thought you were gonna take that to your grave, Okkotsu. Been long enough.” She breezes past all of you without another word, and Yuta stares at the place where she stood only moments before, slack-jawed.

Maki shrugs. “Well, that’s that.” The sound of tuning instruments floats back from the stage and Maki starts moving, looking confused when Yuta doesn’t immediately follow. “What?”

“She—what?” Yuta gapes, and Nobara and Toge catch up to you, herding you backstage.

“I can never tell how mad you two are at each other,” you tell Maki.

“We’re bonded by mutual hatred of our own family. We have an understanding,” she shrugs. “She approves of Yuta. I don’t give a shit. If she didn’t, I still wouldn’t give a shit.”

Sometimes you’re very, very glad you have no relatives at this school.

Maki elbows Yuta lightly and he seems to relax, shrugging off the interaction with Mai.

“On another note!” Nobara chirps. “That was fucking awesome.”

And then you hear, of all things, a trumpet coming from the direction of the stage. It’s a very recognizable riff.

Black Flash is covering September.

“What the fuck?” Toge asks. He holds up a hand and darts back to the wing, peeking out on stage. When he returns, his brows have shot up, mouth open like a fish. “Muta has a trumpet. Muta’s playing a trumpet. Since when does he know trumpet? What the fuck?”

“Miwa. Guaranteed,” Nobara says. “Momo’s been trying to get him to learn for years, but he wouldn’t even be in that band if Miwa wasn’t there.” She grins. “I bet Momo was so mad when he finally did it only ‘cause Miwa asked.”

“They sound straight out of a damn recording,” you murmur, craning your neck as if that’ll help you hear better. “They’re fucking good, guys.” Part of you wants to slip out into the crowd just to see them perform. These guys really have their art down to a science, as little sense as that might make, and you can’t help appreciating it.

They segue into a new song with a wild sax solo that you know to be Momo’s, and Nobara grabs you by the hand and twirls you around backstage, some jazzy movement with no real choreography. We’re going to lose, you think idly, but you understand why. There’s something infectious in this music.

Even Maki and Yuta can’t stand still once they’ve put their instruments away, and eventually the five of you are jumping around like a bunch of idiots as Black Flash closes out their set with an explosive series of riffs and chords, and the crowd’s cheering floods the place, all the way to backstage.

You hear Panda’s voice, or more so the bass-heavy sound of him speaking into a microphone, and you only really catch voting.

“Sweet democracy,” Toge says. “I pledge allegiance—”

“How about don’t?” Maki drawls.

Toge nods. “My bad. I’m supposed to be loyal to the queen now, anyway.” Maki’s brows furrow, but she must decide it’s not worth questioning, because she turns away and starts talking to Nobara.

Has anyone actually told Toge the queen is dead?

This time around, ten minutes feels all too short, and suddenly you’re on the stage again, Black Flash at your left and The Cull on their other side. Panda is in front of you all, mic in hand, the results on his phone.

“We have literally never had a vote this close,” he says, and the crowd draws in a collective breath. “The difference between first and second place was two votes.”

“Shit,” Nobara breathes out beside you, so soft nobody else could possibly hear. Two votes. That’s fucking insane.

“But we do have a winner,” Panda says, “and the band moving on to the finals next week is…”

This time, there’s too much attention on your band for Maki to make a comment about Panda’s dramatic pause. In the quiet, somebody shouts, “Woo, girl drummer!” and it sounds an awful lot like Kirara. You smile sheepishly.

Maybe you made it. This was definitely your best performance yet, and the crowd seemed to love the new song—

“Black Flash!” Panda shouts, and your stomach twists a little even as you smile and whoop for the winners. The stage explodes in movement as your band and The Cull converge on the members of the reigning Battle of the Bands champions, congratulating them.

“Amazing set,” you tell Kasumi earnestly. Deep down, you knew you didn’t have much of a chance against them. Still, you’d hoped.

You think you catch Maki muttering, “Y’know, not bad,” to Mai, but you could be wrong.

After you slip backstage, Panda catches up to you. “Y’all were second,” he tells Nobara. “Just thought you should know. That was real close.”

Part of you is immensely gratified that you beat The Cull. That you came that close to kicking Black Flash out of their championship spot. You’re bummed, but honestly? It’s enough for you.

And now Shibuya Incident and Black Flash will compete in the finals, just like last year. Takuma’s got a chance to dethrone them.

After locking up the drum kit in the back storage room (which Shoko blessedly lets you use free of charge), you head out to the floor. Toge splits off to talk to someone from a comm class, Nobara beelines for Yuji and Megumi, and you figure Maki and Yuta are being antisocial in a corner somewhere. It doesn’t take long for Takuma to find you.

“Skipper!” You turn to find him grinning at you, and you can’t help but mirror the expression. “That was amazing. That song was amazing, you were amazing. I mean, are. You are amazing.” His hand drifts up to the back of his neck, and part of you wants to reach out an intercept it, tangle your fingers in his. But you hold yourself back.

“Thanks,” you beam.

“Man. You should’ve won,” Takuma says earnestly, squeezing your shoulder. You took off your bomber jacket before the show—drumming is already a lot of movement, but the stage lights make you sweat—so his fingers skim the place where your T-shirt sleeves end and your bare skin begins, sending a spike of electricity down your spine. “You kicked their asses in my book.”

There’s that warmth again, flowering in your chest cavity. Even when his hand falls from your arm, the impression of his touch stays there.

“They were good,” you say, conceding defeat. He shrugs, like whatever you say, and you’re about to finally ask him if you can talk in private when Yuji materializes out of nowhere, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

“Dude!” he crows, slinging an arm around your shoulder so aggressively that you nearly stumble, laughing. This kid does not know his own strength. “That was so good. So good. You should’ve won. That was insane. The new song?”

“That’s what I said,” Takuma says, raising a brow at you, and you’re flushing again.

“Ino, we’re getting Taco Bell,” Yuji says. You plaster on a smile when he turns to look at you, like you haven’t been going out of your mind the entire week needing to be alone with Takuma. “You want anything?”

Yuji’s not trying to interrupt anything. Poor guy just wants Taco Bell. You stifle a sigh. “Nah, I’m good.” You catch Maki’s eye from the other side of the room, and she waves you over. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Hey, you should come over later,” Takuma says before you can turn away. “Gotta catch me up on your midterms. I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

Yes. There it is. Exactly what you need.

“That sounds great,” you say honestly. “Call me when you guys get back?”

He gives you a two-fingered salute with a grin that makes your heart stutter a little. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Nobara mourns the loss the whole way home, but by the time Maki pulls into the driveway she seems to have gotten all her feelings out and is back to her determined we’ll-get-it-next-year self. The guys drove separately with all the guitars piled in the backseat, and they beat you home.

You’ve just sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes when your phone buzzes, a familiar but unexpected name floating across the screen.

INCOMING CALL: TSUMIKI FUSHIGURO

You slide to accept the call, waving at the boys to quiet down. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Tsumiki says, in that tone of voice that means she’s running on multitasking business mode. A low, static humming in the background tells you she’s calling from the car. “So, there was some kind of accident on 34th a couple blocks down from the science complex. I know you’re on features, but Yuki’s out of town and most of the freelancers are younger and haven’t done breaking yet. Are you busy? I can try the sophomores if you can’t, or I can go, but I’m just coming from work and I might take too long—”

You’re already grabbing your bag and your board, mouthing newspaper to Yuta and Toge, who are giving you curious looks as they dig through the movie collection under the TV. The intersection’s not far from your place at all, or from The Fix, for that matter. Yuki’s the news editor, and if she’s out, it makes more sense for someone who’s already done breaking to go. Time is of the essence with these sorts of briefs. “On it, don’t worry,” you say, pushing out the front door and waving to Maki and Nobara on the way. “Photog?”

“Yeah, I’m calling around after this. I’ll get someone there. God, thank you, you’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem. Call you when I’m done.” You hang up and shove your phone into your back pocket as you careen down the street, headed toward the spot Tsumiki mentioned. Now that midterms are over and you’re free of your academic obligations, you can actually take the time to savor the cool night air and crunch of freshly fallen leaves under your wheels. Hopefully the crash isn’t too bad—Tsumiki didn’t seem incredibly worried, but it’s likely she was operating on very little information.

It doesn’t take long for you to hear the commotion, and you round the corner to see a few cop cars blocking off the crash site on the side of the road.

The second you’re close enough to see past the officers and their cars, your heart plummets.

It’s a red Hyundai.

Smoke billows out from beneath the hood, but the other car’s got it worse, the passenger side smashed in. The way it’s positioned—it shouldn’t have even been possible, unless the other car was genuinely driving in the wrong lane.

“No,” you breathe, kicking your board up and running, and then you’re flashing your press card at a campus policeman—he tries to get you to stop anyway, but there’s no way he’s catching you now—and you’re sprinting to the wrecked car, heart shouting in your chest. You see Yuji first, trying to brush off a concerned-looking Megumi, and then a pair of cops approaching them, and another cop arresting someone—shit, you know him, what’s his name? Naoya, that’s Maki’s dickwad cousin—probably the driver of the other vehicle, but where’s Takuma, where—

When you skid around the far side of the car, Kirara giving you a surprised look, you see him leaning up against the tree. He’s sitting on the grass, one leg pulled up to his chest and the other stretched out in front of him, his forehead resting on his knee. His shoulders are shaking, his hat’s on the ground, Kirara is beside him talking lowly and glaring at anyone who tries to get near him—

Until she sees you.

“Thank god,” she breathes. She doesn’t ask why you’re here. She just guides you to sit down in front of Takuma. “Can you—”

“Is he hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so, he’s just—”

“Got it.”

She backs off to give you space, and then you’re on the ground, knees in the grass in front of Takuma. Panic attack, PTSD episode, whatever it is, you’ve dealt with these before. You remember the roof, his quiet voice, explaining what happened to his dad, how he was in the car, how he hates driving because of it. You’d bet anything Takuma thinks he’s back there.

“Kuma,” the nickname slips out before you even realize it. He jerks and looks up at you, shock and confusion written all over his face. He’s full-on trembling, and your heart shatters in your chest. “Hey. Hey, I need you to breathe.” You hesitantly reach out and take his hands in yours, watching him carefully to see if he tries to pull away. He doesn’t. “You’re okay. Everyone’s okay. You’re safe. Can you take a breath for me?”

He’s not fully here, you can tell, his eyes glassed over and his breath catching in his throat. You scoot closer to him, put your hands on either side of his face, blocking out the sirens and the chatter and the crowd. “Takuma,” you say. “Look at me.”

His frantic, moving stare settles on you after a long moment, and he seems to realize abruptly that he is having a panic attack. You can see the moment it clicks in his mind, that if he was twelve years old in a car crash with his father, you couldn’t be here in front of him, and now it’s up to his body to get the message across.

“Breathe,” you say again, drawing in an exaggerated breath and blowing it out slowly. “C’mon, with me. You got this.”

Takuma gasps, trying to follow your instructions as you talk him through it, counting inhales and exhales and starting over every time his breath hitches. “Doing great,” you promise. The rest of the world—the cops, a very angry Megumi pacing back and forth, Kirara speaking rapidly on the phone—might as well not exist. It’s you and Takuma and your breaths in the air between you. Nothing else matters, not right now.

All of the struggles you’ve had this week, papers and feelings and not enough sleep, feel suddenly unbelievably small.

There are things that matter in a much louder way, and this is one of them.

“Christ,” Takuma breathes out eventually, burying his head in his hands. One of the cop cars erupts with the blare of sirens momentarily before stopping again, and the sound has his shoulders tense with worry all over again.

You don’t even think about it. You just pull Takuma into you, wrapping your arms around him, like you can put the both of you in a little bubble away from everything else. “Hey, hey—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you furiously shake your head. “Just—the sirens—“

“No,” you say firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Takuma.”

He shudders and you rub your hand up and down his spine. “Is the other driver…?”

“A stupid fucking drunk driving in the wrong lane?” Kirara practically spits as she rejoins you near the tree. “Yes.” The cop just took her statement and has moved on to Megumi and Yuji.

You’ve never seen Megumi this livid. He’s gesturing wildly at the other car, and you remember idly that Naoya’s his cousin too, that this is a little personal for him.

“Yeah, but is he…?” Takuma trails off.

“He’s fine,” you murmur, your heart clenching for this boy, who’s been through so much and just relived the worst day of his life and still wanted to know if the other driver was okay. Jesus. He’s too good. “Everyone’s okay.”

You pull back to hold him at arm’s length, scanning him up and down for injury, and he’s staring at you like you just fell from the sky. “Skip—I’m really glad you’re here but—why? What are you…?” His voice is a little hoarse. His gaze trails down to the press pass hanging from your neck, and he cracks a wry smile. “Y’know, when I told you write a story on me, this isn’t really what I had in mind.”

So much relief floods you at once that you think you might actually start crying. “Jesus,” you croak out, and the smile drops from his face.

“I’m okay,” he says quickly. “Just—got the wind knocked out of me, but it’s fine. Skipper—”

You lurch forward and wrap your arms around him before he can finish, needing to feel him breathing, his heart beating. You also hear his breath hitch as he winces, and you pull back in alarm. “Shit, I’m sorry, what—”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Just sore. I’m fine. Really.” He leans back against the tree. “Airbags.”

You slump back against the tree too, deflated as the limp airbags in the ruined car. “You guys okay?” you ask as the others, done with their statements, turn toward you.

“Yeah,” Kirara says, but Megumi shakes his head and points to Yuji, who’s nodding even while cradling his wrist to his chest.

“It’s fine,” Yuji insists, and Megumi looks at him, incredibly unimpressed. “Well, it’s not broken, I can move it.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Megumi says flatly. And you look at him, his expression so familiar, and abruptly realize you’re supposed to be writing a brief.

“Shit,” you mutter, pulling out your phone. “I’m working for your sister right now. I gotta…” You point to the phone. Megumi winces but nods, and Tsumiki picks up on the first ring.

“Hey! Done already? You find Yoshino okay? He said he—”

“Uh, no,” you say sheepishly. “Actually, I—uh, okay, everyone’s fine, but Megumi’s here. If I—”

“Slow down!” Tsumiki blurts. “What? Shit. Frick. Where’s Gumi? Can you put him on the phone?”

You wordlessly hand your phone to Megumi, who’s looking more pained at the concept of talking to his sister about this than the accident itself.

A few cars pull up—a white one screeching to a stop that really should not have been going so fast in front of a bunch of police officers, and then a darker gray one that arrives smoothly after, neatly pulling up against the curb. Gojo practically launches himself out of the first car, looking around until his gaze locks on Megumi, who hangs up the phone with a quiet okay, thanks and then immediately groans upon seeing Gojo there. Nanami and Shoko get out of the second car much less dramatically and trail after Gojo to the cluster of you by the tree.

“Megumi!” Gojo calls as he jogs over. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Megumi grumbles, trying and failing to brush Gojo off. “Where’d you come from? Don’t you have work?”

“Geto and Utahime are closing down,” Gojo says with a shrug. “We heard and came as fast as we could. Figured I’d bring our resident doc. Or Nanami would, since she wouldn’t ride with me,” he says loudly so Shoko can hear. She just rolls her eyes.

Megumi tosses you your phone and says, “Forget the brief, you’re good.” You nod, pushing to your feet and offering a hand to Takuma.

“We,” Gojo says, placing one hand on Megumi’s head and the other on Yuji’s, “are going to the ER.” You expect Megumi to object, but it’s Yuji who tries to wave Gojo off. Except he tries to physically wave him off with his bad wrist and immediately grimaces. Megumi swats him on the shoulder and gives him a serious look that says we’re going, don’t argue. You figure Tsumiki will probably meet them there.

Shoko stops to talk to Kirara a short distance away, and Nanami keeps walking, making a beeline for Takuma—and by extension, you. It doesn’t escape your notice that the second he’s within range, some of the tension in Takuma’s body seems to vanish, seeping out of him and into the grass, like the tree’s roots are taking it on for him.

Nanami’s usually immaculate hair is a little disheveled, like he ran his fingers through it. Without his usual glasses on, he looks a lot less daunting, a lot more personable. The worry in his expression is well concealed but very much present.

“Ino,” he says. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Takuma says unconvincingly. “Fine. Just—yeah. Drunk driver, you know…” He scratches at the back of his neck, and this time you don’t check yourself. You reach up and grab his hand, slotting your fingers between his. He shoots you a grateful look before turning back to Nanami. “I’m okay. Really. Thanks for… um…”

“Of course,” Nanami says before Takuma can say anything more. You release his hand so he can step forward. You’ve never seen Nanami hug anyone before, but apparently there’s a first time for everything.

“You’re not going with Gojo?” he asks when he pulls back, hands planted on Takuma’s shoulders. It feels very paternal. You’re not sure you should be listening in.

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“I’d feel a lot better if you got checked over,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. “Would you let Shoko look at you, at least?” You’re relieved when Takuma nods, letting Shoko pull him away.

Gojo leads Yuji and Megumi past you, back to his car, and Yuji stops to whisper, “Never fear, Skip, the drum set was not in the car.”

“Oh my god,” you say. “Yuji. I’m more worried about you than the drums.”

“Aw, Skip!” he says happily. “That’s nice.” You roll your eyes but can’t keep the fond smile off your face, and you know Megumi’s probably doing the same thing, though you can only see the back of his head as he follows Gojo. Yuji bounds off after them, still cradling his wrist to his chest but seeming very unconcerned about the whole ordeal.

Yet another screech of tires alerts you to a truck appearing from the other end of the street. Hakari doesn’t even bother to shut it off, jumping out and leaving the door hanging open.

“Kira!” he shouts, pushing past the remaining officers. “Kirara!”

“Over here!” Kirara calls, thanking Shoko and weaving around the slowly diminishing crowd. Someone’s already showed up to tow Naoya’s car, and another truck probably isn’t far behind. Kirara gets swept up in Hakari’s arms, her trying to reassure him she’s fine, and you find yourself left alone with Nanami. He studies you openly, keen eyes and a calm, very slight smile on his face.

“I don’t think we’ve met, officially,” you say sheepishly. “I’m Skipper.”

“Kento,” he says, holding out a hand. You shake it and feel abruptly like you’re talking to a business executive. As Shoko looks Takuma over on the other side of the big tree, Nanami—Kento—lowers his voice a bit and says, “Ino’s told me all about you.”

The heat rises unbidden to your cheeks, and you hope the evening dimness hides it. He talks about you? To Nanami? You aren’t really sure how to respond to that, but luckily, Kento spares you the trouble. “Look out for him tonight, will you?” You can tell from the tone that he’s testing the waters, trying to determine how much you know about his dad.

Hopefully the message gets across when your gaze drifts back to Takuma over Kento’s shoulder and you say, “I plan on it.”

“He’s alright,” Shoko announces, and Takuma appears at your side again. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” Something loosens in your chest at the words, something that tied itself into knots the second you saw Yuji’s car and hasn’t let up since.

“Hey,” Hakari calls, he and Kirara approaching hand in hand. “You guys good?”

Takuma nods, and you shrug. “Wasn’t in the car.”

“We’re gonna head back to Kirara’s. You want a lift?”

Takuma glances at Kento, and you feel the truth of his words that day on the roof, about Nanami being the closest thing he has to a father.

“Go home, kid,” he says. “Sleep it off. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Takuma says, like a breath of relief. He looks exhausted. But he’s here in one piece, and that’s what matters. Your fingers brush his as you walk back to Hakari’s truck. It’s a quiet ride, a short one, your board on your lap and your press pass still dangling from your neck.

“Oh, Skipper,” Hakari says when he turns onto your street. “Your house over here? Or are you coming to theirs?”

You glance at Takuma, but before either of you can say anything, Kirara says, “She’s comin’ over.” She catches your gaze in the rearview mirror with a knowing look and you manage a weak smile. You can’t imagine letting Takuma out of your sight right now, honestly.

The dogs are there the second Kirara opens the door, and Takuma practically falls into them, burying his face in their fur as they nuzzle up against him. Shiro turns to you after saying hi to the others and noses at your palm until you scratch her behind the ears.

“Hi, sweetie,” you murmur. “Good girl.”

Kirara nudges you with her shoulder as she brushes by, glancing down at Takuma and then back at you. You nod. I got him. She offers you a small smile before she and Hakari disappear around the corner.

“C’mon,” you murmur, tapping Takuma on the shoulder. He nods, pushing to his feet and patting each dog on the head one more time. You follow him upstairs, feeling a little out of your depth. After all, he’s not the one who decided you were staying.

When you’re both standing in his room, you shift on your feet a little, wondering how to word it. “If you want some space—”

“No,” he blurts, unexpectedly loud, and then his cheeks go a little red, sheepish. “I mean—uh. I could… use the company. If you don’t mind. You don’t have to stay, obviously, just—”

“Kuma.” You laugh a little, watching him freeze, glance up at you mid-ramble. “I would love to stay.”

“Oh.” He grins. “Cool. Okay. Um.” He turns around and grabs a pair of sweats and a tee from his dresser, then holds them out to you. “If you want…? Or I can ask Kirara, I’m sure she’d let you borrow something, or obviously you live right down the street or—”

Something about the idea of wearing his clothes makes you go a little warm all over, and you accept them without hesitating, cutting off his rambling. “Thanks.”

“I’m gonna…” He jerks his thumb toward the door. You don’t know if he’s just giving you the space to change or going to shower or what, but you nod, waiting until the door clicks shut behind him to tug on the sweats and shirt. The shirt is huge on you, one shoulder sliding off, a fading logo of some music festival on the front. You sit on the edge of Takuma’s bed, tucking your knees under you, and then your phone rings. Tsumiki.

“Hey,” you say, pressing it to your ear. “They’re okay?”

“Yeah, Yuji sprained his wrist but nothing else. Pretty minor, all things considered,” she reports. “They’re on their way back to the house.”

“Good,” you breathe, the relief evident in your voice. “Thanks. Do you… are you sure about the brief?”

Tsumiki chuckles. “Hey, not your job to worry about the press tonight.”

“I can still try to… write it,” you say half-heartedly, dreading the thought of it. “I mean, I saw the scene and…”

“Don’t even worry about it. Genuinely,” she says. “You and I both know that’s a conflict of interest.” You huff a weak laugh. What an understatement. “More importantly, you sound exhausted and I’m sure that whole thing stressed you out. Listen, the photog I had on it wanted to break into writing anyway. No time like the present.”

You immediately feel even worse, because your photographer was probably looking for you at the scene and you just left him hanging.

“Stop,” Tsumiki says, like she can read your mind through the phone. “He handled it well. It’s fine, Skipper. Get some rest.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, but she’s already gone. You shoot a quick text to the group chat explaining what happened, that everyone’s fine, and that you probably won’t be home tonight. Takuma doesn’t want to be alone, and honestly, you don’t know if you could leave him if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the texts to start pouring in.

utah: let us know if any of you need anything!! maki: keep us posted and tell megumi to answer his dumb phone nobara: WHAT nobara: OH MY GOD???? nobara: well i’m glad everyone’s okay nobara: christ freak no. 1: alsjkfq qEQht

You frown at the keysmash, wondering if Toge dropped his phone or actually just doesn’t know how to communicate like a normal person.

you: ??? freak no. 1: sorry SOMEONE TOOK MY PHONE,,,, utah: because SOMEONE DOESN’T KNOW WHEN IT’S AN APPROPRIATE TIME TO SEND MEMES, TOGE maki: nvm he picked up maki: go to sleep, skipper, we can talk tomorrow

Toge texts you privately thirty seconds later. It’s the meme of Gru laying out his evil plan and then realizing it’s a horrible idea. The first frame says answer the phone, the second says get the breaking news like a baddie journalist, and the last frames say realize you know everyone at the scene of the crime. You laugh out loud. Toge knows you. He knows you needed this. He wouldn’t have sent it if he didn’t think it’d cheer you up.

A half-second later, another image comes in, but it’s just a picture of Nobara with her hands clasped together in front of her mouth, speechless and absolutely thrilled. The full image shows her swooning over a little puppy, but you long ago cropped it and started using it as a reaction image in your chats.

freak no. 1: me when ur okay :)

“Aw,” you murmur. Toge can be sweet sometimes. You start texting back, but then another message comes in and you backspace immediately.

freak no. 1: me when ur spending the night with your boyfie :) you: i was gonna say thanks but then you kept going freak no. 1: me when she texts back :) you: goodnIGHT TOGE freak no. 1: me when she goodnight texts :)

Takuma knocks softly on the door before cracking it open, waiting for you to give him the green light before coming in. He’s changed into his own pair of sweats, and his hair is ruffled and wild around his face. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You toss your phone on the bedside table and scoot over to make room. “You okay?”

He sits cross-legged on the bed, and you turn to face him. “Think so,” he says. “Just… felt like I was back there for a minute.” His eyes go distant just for a moment, and your heart twists in your chest. You scoot forward, knees bumping against his.

“Glad you’re okay,” you murmur, and it doesn’t feel like enough, but he gives you that soft, open look that makes you feel like you could say anything at all and he’d treasure it.

“Glad it was you and not some rando reporter.”

You grin, holding a fist out to Takuma like it’s a microphone. “How do you rate Skipper’s hug on a scale of one to ten?”

He leans forward, playing along. “Uh, you know, it was so long ago I might not have a really accurate rating. I would have to probably hug her again—”

You don’t let him finish, surging forward and wrapping your arms around him, tackling him down onto the bed in a fit of laughter. Caught off-guard, he has no defense, and after a startled moment his arms snake around your waist, and you lie there, looking at each other with barely-restrained grins.

“Well, that one was pretty good,” he murmurs. “Nine, I think.”

You gape at him. “Nine?”

Another smile dances across his lips, and you suddenly really want to kiss him.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep trying.” He shrugs innocently, and then tries and fails to stifle a yawn, which makes you yawn in turn. It’s late, night having draped itself over the city hours ago, and the effects of barely snatching hours of sleep all week are finally creeping up on you, weighing you down.

“Go to sleep,” you tell Takuma, grabbing a blanket from where it’s been wedged between the bed and the wall and shoving it toward him.

“You go to sleep.”

“Bossy.”

But he shakes the blanket out and lets it fall over both of you, trapping your warmth beneath it, and sleep feels very, very appealing.

You think about the paralyzing, all-consuming fear that took hold of you when you saw the car. The thought of anything happening to him—you actually can’t even fathom it. And you think about what that means, and that you’ve only known this boy for a month, but you feel like your heart beats on the same channel as his.

Geto’s words play themselves over and over in your head, Maki’s mixing themselves in until you have a chorus of phrases bouncing around like pinballs.

Your heart is not a finite thing.

You already know.

The question isn’t if he likes you, or if you like him. It’s whether you’re gonna let it play out or shut it down before it has a chance to.

If you’ve got something, love it while you have it.

Geto was right. You don’t know how long you’ll have this for, have him for. But you better make the most of it while you do.

But Takuma’s eyes are already closing, his arm slung over your waist, seeking your warmth, your comfort. He looks exhausted, shaken. These aren’t conversations for tonight. Tonight, you just hold him, and feel his breath against your neck, and revel in the fact that he’s okay.

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jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222

a/n: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, TEAM. i've fallen into another anime hyperfixation (blue lock) and it's killing me slowly. one part left of this fic !!

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Worth Fighting For

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!tidemaker!reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: requested by @naushtheaspiringauthor a very looong time ago haha.. sorry it took so long! i hope you like it!

The ocean breeze swept through the open window of the grand room in the palace of Ravka, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on the intricate patterns of the walls. A sense of unease hung in the air as Nikolai Lantsov, the King of Ravka, paced back and forth.

Seated on the windowsill, Y/N watched him with concern in her eyes. As a skilled tidemaker, she had always been a steady presence in Nikolai's life. They'd been friends for years, ever since she first met him in the palace, and they both shared secrets and dreams that no one else could understand.

~

The sun had set hours ago, and the turmoil within Nikolai had yet to subside. The demon inside him, the monster that threatened to take control, was a constant battle. And tonight, it seemed to be winning.

Nikolai stopped pacing and turned to you, his eyes filled with frustration and underlying fear. “I can't control it, Y/N/N. It's getting stronger, and I fear that one day, I won't be able to stop it.”

Y/N rose from her seat and approached him slowly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think, Nik. We’ll figure this out together. I’m sure Zoya and Genya are also trying their hardest to help.”

He looked at her with a mix of undying gratitude and longing. “You’ve always been there for me, Y/N, through the good and bad. I don’t deserve you.”

Her heart ached at his words as she turned her gaze from him to the far wall to her right. “Don’t say things like that. You forget yourself, you’re the king of Ravka. You’re not alone in this. We’ll find a way to control the demon, and I’m not going anywhere.” She reached for his arm and looked up at him, “Let’s get you in bed now, you’re exhausted.”

His eyes bore into hers, and in that moment, something shifted between the pair. The unspoken tension that had always lingered was suddenly palpable, and they both felt it. Before she could react, Nikolai closed the distance between them, his lips captured hers in a kiss that held years of longing and desire. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken feelings, of the connection that had always been there but had never been acknowledged.

When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless and their foreheads rested against each other. “Nikolai,” she whispered, her voice choked from all her emotions.

He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over her soft skin. “I’ve waited far too long to do that. I was just too scared that I’d end up dragging you down because of…”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence for Y/N to know he was referring to the demon. She shook her head, “No, Koyla, you could never drag me down. You’re the strongest person I know. Plus, I’m a Tidemaker so you couldn’t drown me if you tried.” That pulled a soft chuckle from his lips. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” She wanted him to reassure her that he believed her words. He nodded with a smile. “Good, now let’s get you to bed.”

~

Over the following weeks, Y/N and Nikolai worked tirelessly to gain control over the demon that threatened to consume him. As a Tidemaker, she had a unique understanding of power and how to wield it. Together, they trained and experimented, using the power of the sea to somehow counter the darkness within him. There was a plethora of moments full of frustration and setbacks, but she never wavered in her belief in him. Y/N was there to pick him up when he stumbled, to hold him when he felt weak, and to reassure him that he was not alone in this battle.

One night, as the couple sat on the palace rooftop, the moonlight reflecting off the still lake below, Nikolai turned to her with an endearing smile. Her hair flew out behind her elegantly with the wind and her eyes sparkled under the moon. She was stunning. She was his love, his best friend, and she had been by his side every day without fail. “I couldn't have done this without you, Y/N. Thank you.”

She smiled back, her heart full of love for the man beside her. “I should thank you. You've shown me what it means to be strong, even in the face of darkness… Quite literally.”

Their chuckles floated away with the cool breeze. Nikolai took one of her hands in his, his finger drawing patterns on her palm. “You know, I used to think that I was destined to rule alone, that no one could ever truly understand the weight of the crown. But, truly, you've shown me that I don't have to be alone.”

As he spoke, Y/N realized that she felt the same way. She had been with him through thick and thin, and she couldn't imagine her life without him.

Nikolai smiled and brushed his lips against her temple, an intimate gesture full of gratitude and love. 

In that moment, they both knew that they were meant to be together, that their connection was stronger than any demon or darkness that could threaten it. And as they held each other under the moonlit sky, she knew that they had found a love that was truly worth fighting for.

[violetsixx1981]

Kevin, We Need to Talk. Part 8

Sorry this took so long

Your dad and Kevin's mom help you tell the school

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

When the time came for you to tell the school, your dad and Kevin’s mom came with you.

“We will do everything we can to make sure Y/N has all the accommodations she needs,” said Principal Hastings. “We very much appreciate it,” said Eva. “She will, of course, be excused from gym, I’m sure we can find something for her to do to make up the credit. How far along is she at the current moment,” asked the principal. “She’ll be 20 weeks on Tuesday,” your father responded. “Alright, I’ll put that in her file, and I will let her teachers know. Thank you for coming to speak to me, Mrs. Khatchadourian and Mr. Y/L/N. Kevin, Y/N, and their unborn baby will be in good hands here,” Principal Hastings said as he walked them out of his office.

You felt a mix of relief and apprehension as you stepped into the hallway. The support from the school was reassuring, but the reality of your situation was ever-present.

Eva and your dad exchanged a few more words with the principal before turning back to you and Kevin. “I think that went well,” Eva said, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” you nodded, though the weight of the months ahead still loomed large in your mind. “Thanks for being here, both of you.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” your dad said. “We’re in this together.”

Kevin squeezed your hand. “Ready to get back to class?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied.

As you walked down the hallway, a few classmates cast curious glances your way, but you held your head high. Kevin stayed close, his presence a comforting anchor. When you reached your classroom, you took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Mr. Thompson looked up from his desk and smiled. “Welcome back, Y/N. We’re just discussing the themes in ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.'’”

You took your seat, feeling a sense of normalcy as you opened your notebook. Kevin sat beside you, and the class resumed its discussion. You tried to focus, but your mind kept drifting to the future.

After class, Kevin walked you to your next period. “You did great,” he said. “One step at a time, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, feeling a bit more confident.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. When the final bell rang, you met Kevin outside.

That evening, after finishing your homework, you lay in bed, placing a hand on your growing belly. “We’re going to be okay,” you whispered, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

The next few weeks flew by in a blur of schoolwork and preparations. You and Kevin attended your doctor’s appointments, and the baby’s development was on track.

One afternoon, as you and Kevin were studying at your house, your dad came in with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, sitting down. “We need to start getting the nursery ready.”

“Really?” you asked, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety.

“Absolutely. We need to be prepared. Kevin, do you have any ideas?”

Kevin smiled. “I think we should go with a neutral theme. We won’t know the baby’s gender until the gender reveal party/baby shower.”

Your dad nodded. “That sounds like a good plan. Let’s make a list of what we’ll need.”

The three of you spent the next hour brainstorming and making plans. As you wrote down items like a crib, changing table, and baby clothes, you felt a growing sense of anticipation.

Over the next few weekends, you and Kevin, with help from your dad and Eva, began transforming the spare room into a cozy nursery. Painting the walls, a soft, calming color, assembling furniture, and organizing baby supplies became a family effort.

With each passing day, you felt more prepared and less anxious. The support from your family and Kevin made all the difference, and you started to believe that everything would work out.

One evening, you and Kevin sat in the newly finished nursery, it was decorated in shades of yellow and had giraffes and elephants on the walls. “We’re really doing this,” you said, looking around the room.

“Yeah, we are,” Kevin agreed, taking your hand. “And we’re going to be great parents.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. The journey ahead was daunting, but you knew you could face it with Kevin by your side and the unwavering support of your family.

[mizukagami-takamagahara]

Noel Vermillion = Remix Heart Vol.1 Wardrobe

The second installment in my Noel wardrobe analysis series.  You can find the previous part here.

Today we’ll be looking at Noel’s outfits throughout the first volume of Remix Heart!  Sumeragi’s manga actually features a lot of fun new looks for the girls, especially Noel!

Much like her depiction in Heart to Heart, Noel is shown to have shorter hair than she does in Calamity Trigger.  This, again, is pretty reasonable considering that Remix Heart takes place in the year 2196, while CT takes place three years later in 2199.  Her hair simply hasn’t had time to grow to the length we see in the main four games.

This makes me think that Noel wants to grow her hair out long, as it seems even longer in later artwork such as CP.  I also wonder if Noel’s hair grows at a relatively natural rate, or a steady but accelerated rate, or if moments such as her transformation into Mu caused a spike in hair growth.

Long hair is a trait shared among the Saya-based Boundary Interface Prime Field Devices, so I also wonder if the desire to grow her hair long is simply a personal preference, or some kind of shared trait/instinct inherited from Saya or The Origin.

We see Noel’s uniform make more appearances throughout Remix Heart, as the manga takes place during Noel’s first year at the academy.  The first chapter is set within a week after the events of Heart to Heart.

As Noel and her roommates are still on cooking duty during the first chapter, we also see the return of Noel’s apron and handkerchief.  There’s no notable change to the outfit since its last chronological appearance.

The first new look we see is a shot of the mark on Noel’s chest.  We know from the mainline games that she’s had this mark since her creation, though we didn’t get a chance to see it in Heart to Heart.  Noel seems to be covering the mark in several shots, though there are also shots where her hands are down and it doesn’t seem to be bothering her.  Still, I thought it might be worth mentioning.

It’s unclear whether she is covering the mark intentionally (out of some insecurity or fear that someone may ask about it) or if the posture is part of a different behavior.  It would be a strange ‘tattoo’ to explain to those around her, especially given that she has no memory of how she got it.  However, considering what we know about Noel, it’s just as likely that her covering her chest has something to do with her insecurity about her breasts, especially with the crowd she’s in during this scene.  It could also just be part of a ‘shy/reserved’ posture, which would suit her character and how we see her carrying herself throughout the series.

Lastly, it could just be a choice by the artist Sumeragi to avoid having to draw the mark. 

Another new look for Noel is this ponytail she wears when going to the bath.  This is a common practice in Japanese public baths, where keeping your hair up and out of the water is the polite thing to do.  Interestingly, later scenes at the baths show Noel with her hair down.  The only other time we see Noel putting her hair up (outside of how she tucks her hair under her NOL Uniform hat) is in the 2nd Volume of Remix Heart, where Noel wears a ponytail at the beach.

Notably, Noel’s hair is drawn down again only two pages later, with very little time having passed between images- she hasn’t even made it into the water!

As Noel is the only character subject to this kind of change, it's very likely that this is just a visual error on the part of the art team.  Still, I find it interesting when paired with the fact that this same artist never draws Noel’s hair up in the bath again.  The rest of the cast, from what I recall, keep their ‘bathing hairdos’ consistent.

To try to look at it from a Watsonian perspective, I could believe that Noel’s hair tie happened to be loose, and that it slipped out during the general commotion of Mai’s fall and all the girls hurrying to make sure she was alright.

Now this next entry, I can’t really count as one of Noel’s outfits.  It’s actually an outfit she stole ‘borrowed’ from one of her teachers.  However, it is still an outfit Noel picked out for herself, so I’ll still take a look at it!

While the girls are playing dress up in Chapter 4, we see Noel is interested in this strapless bra.  It’s a shame we don’t get a chance to see what sort of colors she picks out for herself.  We do see that the bra has a ribbon at the center, a prominent row of frills at the top, a smaller row of frills at the bottom, and another faint row alongside each of the stripes on the cups.  She’s initially frustrated that the cute bra won’t fit her, until Makoto shows her how to use padding.  I do wonder why a woman like Emma has pads in the first place...

Regardless, Noel ends up liking the way she looks so much that even after she changes back into her uniform, she keeps the pads and the bra on.  Interestingly, this will not be the last time Noel decides to “borrow [something] in secret!”

Noel really doesn’t seem to be above stealing if she can justify it to herself.  Perhaps this is a similar case to the event in Remix Heart Chp. 10, where she “didn’t think it was being used.”

The rest of the outfit Noel picks for herself seems to be a light dress, again with frill and ribbon features- a prominent frill at the neckline, a frilled hem with a visible ribbon (I unfortunately cannot find the name of this style) and a visible ribbon cinch under the bust that is tied in a bow at the back.  We again see Noel wearing a relatively short skirt in comparison to the outfits chosen by Kajun and Tsubaki, which suggest she had a variety to choose from in Emma’s room.

The ‘frill and ribbon’ combination reminds me of her apron from earlier!  By now I’d argue that it’s safe to say Noel really loves frills, and that she may be partial to ribbons and flowy skirts.

While they aren’t part of any outfit, I would like to take a moment to appreciate the stuffed animals Noel finds and takes a liking to in the same chapter.  One of her homescreen lines from BBDW revealed that she collects stuffed animals, and that rabbits are among the ones she has at home.  We also see in both the main games and later chapters of Remix Heart that she really likes pandas!

The last outfit we’ll be looking at is the outfit Noel wears during the sports festival in Chapters 5 and 6.  We see Noel wearing a t-shirt and bloomer set that seems to be the standard uniform for the festival, as all girls shown participating in the games are wearing the same outfit.  The ribbon in her hair, too, seems to be mandatory for participating team members.

Her shoes and socks are the only real features of note, as they are the only elements of the outfit that I saw any variation in among characters.  Noel seems to be wearing simple, standard-length socks and light-colored tennis shoes.  The soles of her shoes seem to be a dark color when compared to Tsubaki’s, but we don’t get a clear shot of them, so it could just be a shading choice.

Over the course of this study, I have noticed that Noel seems to favor light colors with dark accents.  We see this in the bra she chose, her sports shoes, and arguably her uniform’s combo of light socks/dark loafers.

[misslyzz]

Snake Song - Chapter 3: Kiss With a Fist

~Paring: Draco x Original Female Character

~Description: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, Cannon divergence

~Word Count: 4.6k

~Author Note: I update once a week! You can find the series masterlist here.

~Content disclaimer: Canon typical violence, slight mentions of blood, bigotry

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My black eye casts no shadow

Your red eye sees nothing

Your slap don't stick

Your kicks don't hit

So we remain the same

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cordelia Prince sat in the Slytherin common room staring out one of the large, ornate windows that looked out into the Black Lake. The only light left in the common room came from a few candles spread out across the room and the dull green hue from the lake. It cast the vast stone room with its leather button-tufted couches and dark wood furnishings in a sort of eerie glow, but Cordelia found this rather comforting. 

It was late, probably past midnight, but she couldn’t sleep. She kept replaying the events of the day in her head. It had been a particularly nasty day that had started with a letter from her mother berating her about participating in the quidditch trials. It seemed the school had sent her parents news of her injury. Something she really should have expected. 

The letter had been something along the lines of “If you embarrass this family one more time, we’ll transfer you to Beauxbatons Academy before you can say snitch.” Being surrounded by silly little French girls for the next 5 years sounded like a fate worse than Azkaban to Cordelia. 

It hadn’t stopped there. Not long after her owl Sage had dropped off the dreaded letter and Cordelia was staring forlorn into her porridge, Malfoy had come swaggering into the great hall, wearing one of the Slytherin team's silver and green jumpers. Cordelia would have liked nothing more than to drown herself in her porridge. He’d sent her a haughty smirk and waltzed over to the rest of the team to eat breakfast. Presumably they would be heading to practice soon. 

It hadn’t been until later that day when Cordelia was moping around the common room pretending to make progress on her History of Magic homework that she had overheard the most infuriating bit of news. She had just crossed out the third unsuccessful sentence about how Barnabas the Barmy had tried teaching trolls ballet when Pansy Parkinson walked by with a few other girls in her year giggling about something asinine. However, a particular bit had caught her attention. 

“...of course his father bought the whole team new brooms, he wants them to win the cup this year and it's not like he couldn’t spare the expense. Only the finest for a Malfoy.”

Cordelia’s quill snapped in her hand and her nearby ink well magically flew off the table narrowly missing Daphne’s head, who was sitting across from her, and smashed into the stone wall. Daphne looked up at her a bit wide eyed and muttered a “wow...” before Cordelia had stormed off. 

That’s how she got here, staring out into the swirling darkness of the Black Lake, instead of in her comfortable canopy bed, with its fluffy pillows, asleep like a sane person. Un-bloody-believable. She knew Malfoy wasn’t above cheating and was an absolute menace to her on a daily basis, but she didn’t peg him for someone who couldn't earn his own achievements. Part of her was disappointed in him. Despite their constant rivalry this felt low, unambitious even. 

She did eventually drift off to sleep curled up on the dark green wingback chair, with one thought on replay in her head. Some Slytherin he is. Salazar is probably turning over in his grave. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe Salazar Slytherin had turned over in his grave. Cordelia thought wide eyed, staring at the body of Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, hung by her tail below the letters written across the wall in what Cordelia highly doubted was red paint. They had just been enjoying a truly excellent Halloween feast only to run into this on the way back to the common room.  The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware. 

 "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" Someone had shouted from the front of the crowd. Cordelia’s heart lurched. She knew that voice, it had been Malfoy. She felt someone grab onto her arm and looked to her side. It had been Tracey, who was staring stone faced at the bloody letters on the wall. Despite her expression, her hand was clutching Cordelia tightly.  

“It was probably him and his little cronies, pulling some kind of sick prank,” Cordelia whispered to Tracey as they watched Filch yelling at Harry Potter, of all people, about killing his cat. 

“You!” The hunched over caretaker screeched at Potter, “You’ve murdered my cat!” Cordelia looked back to Tracey who still hadn't looked away from the writing. Luckily, a moment later Dumbledore came to sort the mess out and everyone dispersed back to the common room. Cordelia kept close to Tracey, who had been unusually silent since seeing the writing. 

The three girls, still being quite full from the feast and not wanting to hear any more Malfoy's nonsense, went straight up the short ironwork staircase and down the tunnel to the girls' dorm. Cordelia had drifted off into a restless sleep, having hazy dreams of slithering snails that she could have sworn had Malfoy’s face all chanting Mudblood over and over again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first week of November had brought with it a cold snap that had the grounds covered in frost in the mornings. Cordelia dreaded venturing outside of the castle and into the biting highland wind, which was an excellent excuse for her to lean on when the first quidditch match of the season rolled around one Saturday. It was Slytherin vs. Gryffindor normally a match Cordelia would never miss, but a deep bitterness had lodged itself in her chest after the events of last month. She would have sooner leapt into the freezing Black Lake stark naked than to have gone to this game. 

Tracey had given her best effort trying to persuade Cordelia from the dorm that afternoon, but she stubbornly refused to go. 

“But Cordelia, it's the first match of the season!”

“Tracey I swear to Salazar Slytherin himself, if I end up going I’m going to cheer for Gryffindor and then I’ll be disowned from the whole house.” Cordelia had whined. “Is that what you want?” 

Tracey signed, exasperated. “Can’t have that, then.” And with a begrudged look had left the dorms to head down to the quidditch pitch with the rest of Slytherin house. This left Cordelia quite alone in the common room, which she considered a blessing. Good I can brood in peace. 

And brood she did. She sat at one of the comfy green couches, staring into the large stone fire thinking of all the things she could say or do later to terrorize Malfoy as revenge. She sat in her revenge fueled trance for who knows how long until finally people began to trickle back into the common room. Judging from the general mood, it didn’t look like Slytherin had won. Cordelia tried to look stoic, but the corners of her mouth couldn’t seem to behave. 

Tracey flopped onto the couch beside her, Daphne soon followed in an adjacent armchair. 

“I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news.” Tracey signed. 

“Bad news, first then.” To her credit Cordelia did manage to sound aloof. 

“We lost.” Daphne interjected, not seeming that upset about it either. 

“Considering the mood, not surprising,” Cordelia said surveying the room. Everyone did seem a bit defeated, which considering Slytherin hadn’t lost the quidditch cup in seven years, wasn’t surprising. “And the good news?” She questioned. 

At this Tracey let out a crooked smile. “Malfoy missed the snitch. Literally had it floating right behind his head, the tosser! Potter had a particularly nasty bludger after him and still managed to catch it before Malfoy.” Tracey let out a barked laugh. “It was embarrassing, honestly.”

Cordelia was trying her best to not break out into a full-blown grin, feeling absolutely giddy that Malfoy had managed to embarrass himself so thoroughly. They heard a loud snort from behind them. She turned to look over the back of the couch to see none other than one of Slytherin team's chasers, Adrien Pucey. Adrien, a handsome boy with intense green eyes and dark hair that fell in soft waves across his forehead, was two years ahead of Cordelia. He was sitting with a few other students in his year including, Miles Bletchly, the team's keeper, a pale dark haired boy who’s features resembled a goldfish a bit.

“You forgot the part where he fell off his broom and landed on his ass.” Adrien snickered with the rest of the boys. “Poor sod is still in the showers sulking.” He had one arm slung over his chair and leaned towards Cordelia. “You know Prince, you should have tried out for seeker instead. Maybe then we would have actually won.” He shot her a wink as he and his friends got up to leave. 

She flushed up to her forehead, though she tried to pretend that was not happening. That did not stop her two friends from staring at her knowingly. 

“Pucey does have a point, huh Daphne?” Tracey said with a cheshire cat smile. 

Daphne raised her eyebrow. “Yes, couldn’t agree with him more, eh Cordelia?” 

Cordelia, cheeks still red, was trying her best to hide a smile. “Oh shove off.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Cordelia had gone down to the great hall that morning hoping for a peaceful Sunday breakfast only to be met with an uproar of chatter. She sat down in an empty seat between Daphne and a boy from their year, Theodore Nott, a lanky boy with sandy hair. He was leaned over to talk with some other students about something in a hushed tone.

“What’s got everyone’s knickers in a twist this morning?” Cordelia asked more than a little irritated with the chatter.

Nott had turned to her a little surprised, “Haven’t you heard? A student was found last night, petrified. Some Gryffindor.” He had scoffed at that. 

Cordelia hadn’t really been able to enjoy her breakfast after that and soon after headed back down to the common room. She sat in the common room at one of the long dark tables reading Holidays with Hags, one of Lockhart's books he had assigned 2 feet of parchment on. I’d rather snog one of these hags than read another word of this rubbish. It wasn't just the pompous tone the book was written in that was making it nearly impossible for her to focus, but the constant chatter of the common room. 

She was failing miserably to focus on how Lockhart had saved all those village children from the nasty hag by blinding her with his dazzling smile. Her mind kept wandering back to Colin Creevy, a muggle born first year, who she had found out was the Gryffindor student that Nott had mentioned. 

Cordelia thought back to the bloody writing on the wall on Halloween. Enemies of the Heir beware… Was the enemy of Salazar Slytherin really after just the muggle borns…? Cordelia was trying her best to ignore the murmurings she had heard from some of her nastier classmates. A group of which were snickering amongst themselves at the far end of the table. 

“Of course it was a mudblood.” 

“Probably won’t be the last either.”

“Who do you reckon will be next?

Cordelia snapped her book shut and exhaled sharply through her nose. Bigoted prats. She stood up swiftly from her chair and walked towards the group of snickering teens. She slammed her book down on their side of the table. 

“If you’re going to be ignorant, you could at least do it quieter.” With that she stormed off towards the girl’s dorm, hoping to find some peace and quiet. Just as she had reached the top of the stairs she ran into the familiar figure of Tracey coming down from the dorms. Cordelia glanced back at the older students still at the table whispering quietly amongst themselves at the same table, still presumably spouting their nonsense. She made up her mind to head Tracey off. 

“Hey Trace, wanna help me sneak into the kitchens?” 

Tracey grinned at this, “Merlin yes, I’m starved.” With that the two made their way down the kitchens for the rest of the afternoon.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The next month had gone by with relatively little excitement. On one particularly dull afternoon, Cordelia found herself in her least favorite class, Herbology. Even more unfortunately for her, today they would be working with infant mandrakes. She had already watched Longbottom faint the previous week from the plant's lethal crying, having apparently neglected to secure earmuffs for himself. That was enough to make her contemplate faking dragon pox to get out of class. 

Nevertheless, she found herself elbow deep in fresh soil trying to wrestle the, no doubt screaming, mandrake out of its pot. At the potting station next to her, Tracey was having a lot less trouble, having already dug most of the young plant out of its pot. 

“How did you manage that so fast?”Cordelia looked at her incredulously. Tracy almost looked bored, which was unusual for the girl, who normally looked forward to herbology lessons. All Cordelia got in response was a vague grunt. Cordelia tried focusing on shifting the soil around in her pot, but couldn’t help casting nervous glances at her friend. Tracey was looking forlornly down at the wrinkled little root in her pot. 

“Trace, you alright?” 

Cordelia’s focus was abruptly pulled back to her own pot as she felt a sharp pain in her finger. It seemed the mandrake had clamped its tiny mouth down on her finger. Tracey looked at her and snickered. That was until Cordelia jerked the baby mandrake from her pot. It let out an ear shattering scream as she tried her best to shove it into the new pot, with fresh soil.

It seemed the irritating little plant had a different idea as its tiny veiny arms had gripped on to the side of the new pot. Despite Cordelia’s best efforts to push its tiny, screaming head under the fresh dirt, it seemed determined to not budge. Tracey thankfully took pity on her, helping her shove the shrieking plant under the fresh dirt. 

“Thanks, Trace,” Cordelia said to her friend who had already turned back to her own mandrake. The most response she got out of the girl was a vague hum of acknowledgement. Tracey was busy quickly scooping her mandrake out of the old pot and into the new one. Hers hardly even screamed… 

“Excellent work, Miss Davis,” Professor Sprout complimented while passing by. Cordelia couldn’t ignore the nasty look a few of their classmates shot Tracey at this. From the look on her face it seemed Tracey also noticed. Cordelia felt a pang of guilt at this.

“Ignore those gits,” she scoffed. Tracey had a detached sort of look about her, her eyes solidly set on her already potted plant. 

“Bit hard to do when it’s the whole house.” 

“It’s not the whole house…”Cordelia felt her stomach sink further, eyebrows furrowing. She wasn’t sure she believed herself with all the murmurings and nasty comments she had heard lately. “Only the incredibly stupid ones.” This got a half hearted snort from Tracey, but she wouldn’t meet Cordelia’s eyes, still fixated on the pot in front of her. 

Determined to at least get her friend to crack a smile, Cordelia grabbed a small clump of dirt from her pot, tossing it at Tracey. It hit her cheek leaving a little smudge of dirt and earning an offended gasp from Tracey. Cordelia looked at her with feigned innocence. 

“What? It was him,” she pointed down at the newly potted mandrake, “extremely cracky that one.”

Tracey looked at her through narrowed eyes for a moment before turning back to her pot. Cordelia let out a labored sigh, turning back to her own station. She’d leave Tracey be for now. Maybe she just needs some tim– She was pulled from her thoughts by a clump of dirt smacking her in the forehead before falling down onto her robes.

She whipped her head in the short haired girl's directions. Tracey was trying and failing to keep a straight face. 

“What? Maybe I’m cranky too?”

Cordelia grinned at her friend before chucking another clump of dirt back in retaliation. Their little battle continued for a minute before Professor Sprout came by and admonished the two. They both tried to look guilty. However, as soon as the Professor walked away, and Cordelia met Tracey’s eyes they devolved into fits of giggles. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

November faded to December and Cordelia finally felt as if she might have a relatively normal rest of the school year. On one particular afternoon, she found herself in her element in the potions classroom, deep in the Hogwart’s dungeons. 

The cold stone room was lined with jars upon jars of pickled animals and various glowing substances. There were half a dozen tables where students could place their cauldrons and try their best not to earn Professor Snape's ire. At the front of the classroom was a chalkboard on which said professor had written some especially detailed instructions for a swelling solution. This is where Cordelia was trying her best to apply all her focus on, with great difficulty. 

 She was yet again partnered with Malfoy. What did I ever do to Snape to deserve this? He was currently flicking her carefully counted pufferfish eyes at Potter and Weasley.  

“Knock it off Malfoy,” She seethed, “you're wasting all our ingredients.”

He scoffed in return, having turned his attention to Longbottom getting chastised by Snape once again. Cordelia glanced over at the visibly trembling boy. He should really get a tutor. She rolled her eyes and went over to one of the shelves to get more eyes. Just as she turned to go back to their cauldron, she noticed Potter ducked under his table. Odd… He quickly lit what looked to be a firecracker of some sort and threw it into her and Malfoy’s cauldron.

Her eyes widened and for a brief moment she locked eyes with Potter as he turned. They both looked at each other for a moment before they both ducked for cover. Cordelia leaped behind Professor Snape’s desk just as the mayhem began. From her place of cover, she heard the potion explode and several people shrieked, one of which sounded suspiciously like Malfoy. I’d know that high pitched scream anywhere… Snape should really dust under here. 

Cordelia brushed her hands on her robes and peaked over the top of Professor Snape's desk. What she was greeted with was indeed mayhem. Several students were groaning in pain, parts of their bodies swelled up to triple their normal size. 

She stood up fully now that the coast was clear and walked back toward her station where Malfoy was clutching his face. When he finally moved his hand, she could see that a glob of the potion had managed to land on his nose, which had swelled up like a balloon. Cordelia immediately let out a snort of laughter. She looked over to Goyle who was flailing around with a hand the size of a dinner plate. This is the best potions class ever. 

She met Malfoys gray eyes, which now looked small and beady compared to his still growing nose, and burst into uncontrollable giggles. Her sides were hurting from laughter, and Malfoy's stare was positively lethal. 

Snape finally got back control of the class telling anyone who had been splashed, to come to the front of the class for a Deflating Draft. Cordelia had managed to suppress her laugh at the death stare Professor Snape was putting out. She watched as the affected students walked to the front. Malfoy, in particular, seemed to be having a lot of difficulty seeing how top heavy his head had become. As he staggered away she glanced over to Potter. To her surprise, he was already looking nervously her way. 

A few moments later after the students had begun de-swelling, Professor Snape came back over to Cordelia and Draco’s cauldron with a ladle and scooped out the firecracker. 

“If I ever find out who threw this,” Snape said in a low tone, “I shall make sure that person is expelled.” Then as if on cue both he and Cordelia turned to look at Potter, though only one of the cousins knew the truth.

For the rest of the lesson she could feel Potter's nervous glances, as if at any point she might rat him out to Snape. As if. It was bloody hilarious. She thought back fondly to Malfoy’s gigantic nose. She glanced to her side where said nuisance kept running his hands over his nose as if to make sure it hadn’t re-swollen suddenly. She had to suppress a laugh again. 

Soon the bell rang and everyone began filing out of the classroom. Cordelia had just made it out of the door when she heard a loud “pst” from her side. She glanced to the side of the potions classroom only to see Potter standing there motioning her over awkwardly. She raised her eyebrow, but walked over, nonetheless. 

“You rang, Potter?” she said dryly. 

Potter looked quite nervous, she almost felt bad for him. He’s probably worried about being expelled for his little stunt. 

“Yeah, erm why didn’t you tell Snape about the–” he gestured vaguely toward the classroom then made a kind of exploding motion with his hands. 

Cordelia Snorted. “I think I have better things to do than get the great Harry Potter expelled.” He immediately looked a little relieved. She rolled her eyes. “Besides, watching Malfoy’s nose swell up like a cantaloupe was bloody brilliant, Potter,” she let out a genuine laugh. 

Potter to her surprise flushed a bit at this. “Right, then um thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Looks like you owe me two now, Potter.” At this Harry blanched but was rescued by the Weasley boy calling for him and he rushed off. As Cordelia was watching him walk off, she heard a seething voice from behind her. 

“You knew Prince?” 

Cordelia whipped around to see Malfoy had just exited the classroom, after having apparently overheard the whole conversation. She scoffed, but Malfoy continued.

“Taking Potter’s side?” He spit out, “Pathetic.”

Cordelia’s nostril flared as all  her anger from the last month came rushing back. 

“Jealous Malfoy? Today isn’t the first time you’ve missed something right under your nose.” She gasped suddenly pointing behind his head. He turned in confusion. “Sorry, thought it was a snitch, I wouldn't want you to miss another one.” She snickered, as did a few other nearby students. 

The tips of Malfoy’s ears turned red, and he whipped back around to her. “Everyone knows Potter only made the team because he’s famous,” he sneered back.

“That’s rich coming from someone who’s daddy bought their way onto the team with new brooms!” Cordelia was furious and nearly yelling now. A crowd of the students had begun to form to watch the two’s screaming match. 

“What is he your boyfriend now? Are you a house traitor as well as a blood traitor–”

Cordelia cut him off shapely, “What are you on about Malfoy?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Someone from your bloodline hanging around a filthy mudblood like Davis? Disgusting.” He spit out pointing at Tracey, who was amongst the crowd watching the verbal sparring. She could see Tracey flinch at the slur. The fight didn’t stay verbal for long.

That comment directed at her friend was the last straw. Cordelia saw red, threw her potion book and bag onto the floor, and leaped forward, tackling Malfoy to the ground. He yelped as she landed right on top of him and reared up to land a rather hard punch to his right cheek bone, which immediately started to blossom red. Malfoy, now enraged and red in the face, threw his arm forward and managed to elbow her across the mouth. 

Cordelia grunted a bit and flinched back, a trace of something metallic hitting her tongue. Still furious, she hardly noticed, before once again rearing her arm back and smashing her fist across the same side of the blonde’s face. 

Malfoy let out a high-pitched groan and reached his arms up trying his best to get her into a headlock. The two brawled on the ground for a few moments while the throng of students jeered, until a voice bellowed above the crowd. 

“SILENCE! You two, enough!” Malfoy, who had a handful of Cordelia’s hair, was ripped away from her and hauled rather violently to his feet. She was greeted with the side prolife of an enraged Professor Snape. 

“WHAT do you think you're doing?!” Snape seethed at Malfoy nose to nose, then rounded on her. He pulled her to her feet in a considerably less aggressive manner than he had Malfoy, but his voice had lost none of the venom. 

“Two students from my own house, brawling in the hallway like barbarians?”

Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but one icy stare from Snape cut him off. “The rest of you begone! Go to your classes,” he commanded. The crowd dispersed and Cordelia caught Tracey’s downcast stare for a moment before she headed off. Professor Snape turned back to Cordelia and Malfoy. 

“This is unacceptable behavior from two students of Slytherin house. Two months detention for the both of you–” 

“But–” Malfoy attempted to interrupt, outraged, but Professor Snape cut him off again. 

“Another word, Malfoy and it will be three months.” 

At this Malfoy snapped his mouth closed. Meanwhile, Cordelia was staring at Malfoy with a look of absolute loathing. 

“Your detention will be up to my discretion, but believe me, it will be tedious and painful. Malfoy to class now,” he ordered coldly. He turned to Cordelia and produced a black handkerchief out of the pocket of his robes, handing it to her. She opened her mouth to question him and was immediately met with a sharp stinging pain. She pressed the handkerchief to her now oozing split lip. 

“Prince with me.” Professor Snape didn’t leave a lot of room for argument as he immediately headed down the corridor, his black robes billowing behind him. 

She took one more chance to glare at Malfoy, who was holding his now swelling cheek bone and sneering right back at her. Cordelia had to jog a little to catch up to Snapes brisk pace. What, is he gonna start my detention now? All she really wanted to do was go back to the common room to check on Tracey. She followed Snape out of the dungeons, through several corridors, up a few staircases, and to her surprise he came to a stop in front of the hospital wing. 

He stared down at her with an unreadable expression, before ushering her into the hospital wing and fetching Madam Pomfrey. 

“Miss Prince thought starting a brawl in the corridor was a bright idea,” he said dryly before taking his leave. Cordelia stood there utterly confused as Madam Pomfrey fretted over her split lip. While they were family, Snape never coddled her. He might occasionally seem to favor her in class, but this was different. He hadn’t marched Malfoy down to the hospital wing personally and he came out of their little row arguably worse. Was that actual concern? For my well being? 

Madam Pomfrey soon sent her on her way, split lip completely healed. As she walked back to the common room, she felt a surge of fondness for her gloomy, aloof cousin, who had just shown more care for her than her parents had in months.

~Previous Chapter

~Next Chapter

[imjustagirl247]

Life with Alex is never dull, and ever since we moved into the treehouse deep in the forest, things have been a whirlwind of adventure and discovery. It’s been a few weeks since we left the comfort of his seaside home, and every day here feels like a new chapter in an exciting story.

One afternoon, while gathering supplies from the nearby village, we hear unsettling rumors. There’s talk of a new threat—the Indian Mafia has expanded its reach, and they’ve been looking for people like Alex, people with knowledge of advanced technology. The news sends a chill down my spine, but Alex seems unfazed.

“They’ve been after me for a while,” he admits as we ride back to the treehouse on his motorcycle, the engine roaring beneath us. “But they won’t find us. Not here.”

Despite his reassurance, I can’t shake the feeling of unease. Alex must sense it because later that evening, as we sit around a small campfire outside the treehouse, he takes my hand in his, his gaze intense and full of promise.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” he says, using the nickname he’s given me. “I’ll protect you. No one will lay a finger on you as long as I’m around.”

I nod, comforted by his words and the fierce determination in his eyes. Being with Alex feels like being on the edge of a wild adventure, but it also feels safe. I know he’ll do whatever it takes to keep us both safe.

The next day, Alex decides to take me on a ride to lift my spirits. We speed down winding roads on his motorcycle, the wind whipping through my hair and the world blurring past in a rush of color. The thrill of the ride is intoxicating, and for a moment, I forget about the dangers lurking in the shadows.

We eventually make our way to a secluded beach, a hidden gem with golden sands and turquoise waters. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over everything. We park the bike and race to the water’s edge, our laughter mingling with the sound of the waves.

After splashing around in the surf, we collapse onto the sand, breathless and grinning. As the sky darkens, the stars begin to twinkle above us, and the ocean stretches out like a vast, glittering tapestry.

“Today was amazing,” I say, turning to Alex. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to be here with you.”

He smiles, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’m the lucky one,” he replies softly. “You make everything better.”

Before I can respond, he leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s both tender and exhilarating. The world fades away, leaving just us, wrapped in our own little bubble of bliss.

When we finally pull apart, I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my ear. I know that whatever challenges we face, we’ll tackle them together, side by side.

Back at the treehouse, as we sit under the stars, Alex shows me some of his moves, teaching me a few self-defense techniques. He’s a skilled fighter, and watching him in action is mesmerizing.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” I ask, genuinely impressed.

“Here and there,” he replies with a smirk. “It helps to know how to defend yourself when you’re dealing with people like the Syndicate or the Mafia.”

His protectiveness is both endearing and reassuring, and I feel a newfound sense of strength. With Alex by my side, I know we can face anything.

As the night wears on, we drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to take on whatever the future holds. Together, we are unstoppable, and I can’t wait to see where our adventures will lead us next.

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

Welcome to the Family, Boy (Alcina x Fem!Reader Fanfic)

First thank you all for your support for my first Dimitrescu fanfic. I truly appreciate it and all the support this community has given me on. Let's go on to the next one, shall we?

Premise: After a long and stressful week, your wife Alcina wants to help you let off some steam. However, your amorous activities are cut short by an unexpected surprise.

Warning: blood. There are some steamy scenes in here but nothing explicit, so it's mostly safe for work.

As you climb the stairs to your bedroom, you heave a great sigh. It’s been a long and stressful week. Daniela had caused a small fire in the wine cellar basement by knocking over a lantern when she had gotten a little too eager for a feeding. It was eventually put out, but the corpse was burned in the process. Alcina had been furious at the waste of resources. It had taken a full day to get rid of the ash, but the basement was clean. Well, as clean as it could be. Aside from the wine cellar, Alcina didn’t seem to care much about cleaning up the basement. Well, it was over now. Now you just couldn’t wait to curl up next to your wife and get a good sleep.

You arrive at your doorway and hear Maria Callas singing “Casta Diva” from within. You smile. Your mutual love for opera was one of the first things you discussed as you were courting. Before you reach your hand to knock at the door, you hear Alcina call, “Is that you iubirea mea?”

“Yes, dear,” you reply. You stretch your arms behind your head. “Oh, I just can’t wait to get into bed-” Your voice cuts off as you see what your wife is wearing. She is wearing a black peignoir and as she stands up, she casts it off to reveal a black and red lingerie set.

She smiles wickedly. “I can’t wait to get into bed with you either.”

You don’t move. You can only stare. Her scarlet lips match the exact shade of the lingerie. Without any sleeves, you see her muscular arms and you blush as you recall what those arms feel like wrapped around you. Her legs are on full display as well with a red stocking clipped to a garter. They reach up to your shoulders and you have spent many a time nestled in them with your head on her lap. You open your mouth to reply but find nothing coming out.

Alcina pouts and puts one hand behind her on the bed. “Come, pet,” she purrs, beckoning you with a red fingernail. “You’re not going to stand there all day, are you?”

You don’t say anything. You cross the space between you and your wife in three steps and launch yourself over into her waiting arms. The scent of her perfume is overwhelming and you breathe it in. You close your eyes and kiss her chin, her laugh lines and finally her lips. She laughs through the kiss and holds your head between her hands. “Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Don’t talk,” you rasp, your voice full of desire.

She smiles. “All right, draga mea. No talking then.” She kisses you deeply and you weave your hands through her locks.

She picks you up and carries you across the room, kissing all the while until you reach the wall. You lean your head on the wall behind you and wrap your legs around her waist. “I’ve needed this, my love,” you whisper against her lips.

Ding dong!

You hear the doorbell resound through the castle. You break the kiss and fix her with a quizzical expression. “Were you expecting anyone?” you ask.

She shakes her head quickly. “No. Could be a solicitor. Could be a vampire hunter coming to put a stake in all our hearts.” Her golden eyes are glazed over with desire. “Right now I couldn’t care less at the moment.” She nuzzles your neck and you sigh. She breaks away and looks at you, an unasked question in her eyes. She’s hungry. You nod your consent and she pulls away your nightgown to bear your neck and shoulders. She pulls you close and bites your neck and feeds on the blood pooling around your neck. You feel her neck working against your chest as she drinks. You take pleasure in every gasp and moan she makes. You feel pleasantly light-headed by the time she pulls away with a satisfied sigh.

Ding dong!

Alcina groans and bares her teeth in anger. “It’s getting too late for this!”

You caress her jaw. “Dear, maybe we should answer it. It could be an emergency.”

She shakes her head impatiently. “It’s probably some snot-nosed kid playing a prank.” She lifts your chin with a finger and gives you a seductive grin. “Don’t focus on it right now, pet. Right now is about you and me.”

“You’re probably right-” She stops the rest of your sentence with a rough kiss, opening your mouth with her tongue. Her hand travels up your leg and her hand making contact against your bare leg gives you a pleasant chill. Her hand rests on your thigh and she pushes you up against the wall again while using her nimble fingers to unhook your garter.

Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!

Alcina gives a frustrated growl. “Damn it to hell!”

“Darling,” you say gently petting her arm as a signal to set you down. “If it were kids, they’d be bored and have gone home by now. I’m going to check who it is.”

Your wife crosses her arms and gives an adorable pout. “Fine. Do what you want.”

You adjust your nightgown and wipe any leftover blood and lipstick off your neck. As you walk to the door, Alcina gently puts your dressing gown around your shoulders. You catch her hand and give it a kiss. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just need to get dressed.”

You smile at her. “Very well, darling.” As you turn to leave the door, Alcina catches your shoulder and whispers huskily, “And after we get back, we will most certainly get back the lost time that nuisance has stolen from us.”

You blush furiously and kiss her goodbye. As you walk down the stairs, you hear the doorbell ring again. Once, twice, three times. “Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’m coming.” You grasp the brass handles and with a great effort manage to open the doors wide. You’re jealous of Alcina in moments like these. She could open the doors with such ease that you forget that each door weighed hundreds of pounds.

You are surprised to see Heisenberg holding something wrapped in cloth. You can’t help but smile when you see Heisenberg. Heisenberg and Alcina may be like oil and water, but the two of you liked each other almost instantly. He told you once that “anyone who could put up with that bitch for more than 20 seconds must be a good person. And you have to put up with her for life!”

Heisenberg returns your smile. “Hi, hon.”

“Hi Karl. How about you come in and warm up with a nice cup of tea?” You stand aside to allow him in. “Come on. It’s freezing out there.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, honey, but I really can’t stay long. Is your ball and chain around? This question concerns her too.”

“Heisenberg,” you hear your wife’s drawl. You both look to see her descending the stairs. There is no evidence of your amorous activities as she has on a fresh coat of lipstick, is fully dressed and her hair is pinned perfectly in place under her hat. “To what do I owe this rather unpleasant surprise?”

Heisenberg clenches his teeth. “Believe me, I wouldn’t come here unless it was an emergency.”

“Then what is it?” Alcina asks as she puts her left hand on your shoulder. You reach up to cover it with your own. “Out with it, and be on your way. Some of us would rather be in bed right now.”

Heisenberg notes your kiss-swollen lips and a hickey already starting to form on your neck. “Yes, I suppose some of us rather would.”

Alcina’s eyes flash and she grits her teeth. “Heisenberg, I swear-”

Heisenberg puts up a placating hand while he holds the bundle with his other. “Ok, ok. I’ll cut to the chase then. Sheesh, do you have any sense of humor?” He unwraps the bundle to reveal a mewling French bulldog. It can’t be more than a couple weeks old.

As you place your hand on your heart Heisenberg continues. “I found him outside of his house. Whole damned family was slaughtered. He needs a place to stay. I thought this might be the best place for him.”

You look at your wife with pleading eyes, but she gives a sharp, “No.”

“Darling-”

“No.” She glares at Heisenberg. “Why can’t you take him in? Maybe it would be an opportunity for you to learn some responsibility for once in your cursed existence.”

You see Heisenberg roll his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Yes, and I’d be responsible for him being torn apart by Lycans. I’m not taking him in. It’s not safe for him there.”

You take your wife’s hand in yours. “Darling, please reconsider. We can’t turn the poor thing away. Besides, our daughters would love having a d-”

She immediately puts a hand over your mouth. “Don’t say it,” she warns, looking furtively around the foyer.

“What?” you ask against her hand. “Dog?”

Almost immediately your daughters, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela materialize from their fly shrouds. They zero in on the dog and Cassandra takes him out of Heisenberg’s hands and the other two crowd around her and begin cooing to it, and letting it sniff and lick their fingers.

Alcina covers her face with her hands. “Now you’ve done it, love.”

The girls look up from their ministrations to the dog and as one rush over to your wife, carrying the dog over with them. They begin speaking up all at once. “Mother, please can we keep him?” “Mother, look how cute he is!” “Mother, Cassandra’s been hogging the dog all this time and it’s my turn to hold him!”

“Enough!” Alcina’s voice booms around the foyer. She puts two fingers in the space between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She sighs aloud. “God, I need a smoke.” She turns to her daughters and with a long suffering sigh says, “Fine. We’ll keep the little mongrel.”

All three daughters erupt into cheers and you can’t help but smile indulgently at them. Daniela runs over and throws her arms around your neck in jubilation. “Maman, did you hear that? We get to have a dog finally!”

“Yes, dearest, I did hear that.” You drop a kiss on her head and she scampers over to take the dog which Cassandra begrudgingly hands to her.

Heisenberg grins and reaches in his pocket. “I have some food and a water bottle for him,” he says, handing you the aforementioned items. “The Duke should have some more, but that’s all I have right now.”

“Thank you Karl,” you say, reaching over to scratch the dog behind his ears. “We’ll take good care of it, won’t we girls?”

“Yes, Maman!” they all answer in unison.

“I’ll be off then!” Heisenberg turns to leave but not before shouting over his shoulder, “And I think he should fit in pretty nicely around here, especially since the Lady of the House is such a bi-”

In an instant, Alcina has him off the ground and has her claws extended only a few inches from his neck. “Heisenberg, did you want to finish that sentence?” she asks sweetly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Let him down, my love. It’s not worth getting so riled up this late at night”

“Fine,” she says and sets him down not too gently. He brushes himself off and glares at Alcina for the rough landing. She just flashes a smile and you notice that only her middle finger is extended in claw form. You look at your daughters, but they are too busy with the dog to notice the obscene hand gesture.

“All right, this time I’m really off.” he says, turning around and walking towards the castle gates.

“Girls, what do you say?” you prompt.

“Thank you, Uncle Karl!” they chorus. Bela snatches the dog and runs upstairs, vanishing in her bug shroud. The girls run after her, Daniela yelling down the hall, “No fair! I wasn’t finished with him yet!”

Alcina closes the doors and leans against them, sighing. “I just hope this wasn’t a mistake.”

You take her hand and kiss it. “Nothing we can do about it now, my love. Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s getting late.” The two of you hold hands and once you arrive at your shared bedroom, Alcina immediately locks the door, pulls you close and fixes you with a wolfish grin. “Now where were we, draga mea?”

“I thought you said you wanted to smoke first?” You laugh and wrap your arms around her neck.

“Ah, iubirea mea,” she say picking you up again and giving you a sloppy kiss. “Cigarettes always taste better after sex.”

You kiss her as you unbutton her dress and she puts her hand in the same spot on your thigh as before, this time successfully unhooking your garter. You bite her lip playfully and she gives a little growl of pleasure.

The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door and you hear Daniela’s voice, “Mother? Maman? The dog peed all over the carpet in Bela’s room!”

“Only because you led him there!” you hear Bela retort.

Alcina leans her forehead against yours and starts swearing in Romanian. You give her a kiss and pat her hand before you see to your daughters.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Loved About "King's Tide" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won't read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Here it is, ladies, gentlemen, and those of other genders! The Season Two finale of The Owl House! And holy s**t, what a season this has been! Season One wasn't bad by any means, but everything in Season Two is taken up a notch.

The characters, for one, are impressively well-written. After a season of getting to know our cast of misfits and weirdos, Dana Terrace and her crew finally get a chance to play around with them, introducing new layers and motivations that make almost every character multidimensional. Not only that, but we get introduced to new fan favorites, like Vee, Raine, and especially Hunter, with each of them instantly winning us over.

But the characters aren't the only things that are improved this season. The overarching story and the little narratives threaded within it are perfectly tied together. The writers managed to juggle so many plotlines in a way where they all flowed together well, giving each one its own time to develop while others moved forward. One complaint I had with Season One was how the B-plots always felt like filler, where the time they took away should have been used to better further the main plot. In Season Two, the B-plots are used appropriately, as they continue one plotline or develop characters while the main story focuses on others...Except for "Any Sport in a Storm," which had a whole section of an episode dedicated to Luz and Amity finding out how The Good Witch Azura exists in both the Boiling Isles and the Human Realm. Still have no idea why they wasted so much time on that when Amity simply saying, "Oh, I got them from a box that washed onto shore," would have taken no time. Still, everything else is so tightly written, and I was all there for it.

And the animation is where the improvements this season are more noticeable. Season One had fine animation, but in Season Two, there's more emphasis on shading, colors, expressions, and movements that make it a spectacle to see at times. You can tell Disney pumped more money into the series this time...which makes their inevitable betrayal to Dana and her crew all the more frustrating, but that's neither here nor there.

Season Two is damn near perfect. It does feel like there's little time to breathe with how much every episode throws in, but if I'm seriously going to complain about getting a lot of high-level quality we got each week with little room for filler, I might just consider myself insane.

Now, let's just hope "King's Tide" can do its job at ending this season on a high note. I'm sure there will be a lot of awesome action and heartbreaking emotions ahead of us, so let's dive into it, shall we?

Also…taking out the “Disliked” section…I won’t need it.

Spoilers ahead.

WHAT I LIKED

The Collector’s Getting Impatient: Once again, an episode starts things off ominously. Hearing The Collector spout off about how he wants to be free but Belos won’t let them shows us how childlike The Collector really is. Not only are they still naive to believe that Belos will hold his end of the bargain, but the way he’s whining about not being free yet is very childlike. Trust me, kids whine when you don’t give them what they want exactly when they ask for it. Granted, The Collector has more of a valid reason for why they’re whining. If I was trapped in that pokeball, I’d be screaming “Let me out” over and over again too. Regardless, with all the childishness in this scene, it tells us that The Collector is more of a unique type of godlike character. We’ll see more of that later, but for now, let’s appreciate this little taste of what this crazy kid could be like.

The Rest of the Opening Scene: Speaking of crazy kids, seeing what the others are up to after Luz let herself get taken away is just about what I expected. There’s a sense of panic and frustration between them all, escalating further with each second. It’s not until Willow gets the palismans to step in. What follows are a few nice moments of everyone sorting out their differences and even an adorable revelation for why Amity’s nickname is “Mittens.” When I first watched this scene, I didn’t think anything of it. I just thought it was cute, and that’s about it…and then the rest of the episode happened. From then on, it became clear that this scene was just the calm before the storm, easing us into the darkness that soon followed closely behind. And BOY did things get dark!

“There’s always a way to help. You just have to look for the right opportunity.”: Oh, Willow…Willow, Willow, Willow…

What you said was sweet and is very much true…but you pretty much doomed the planet by saying it. Because King was right. He WILL remember what you’ve said. For better and worse…

Eda DID Get the Brand: Well, there went that theory from the last episode.

I still stuck by what I said last time. Eda getting this brand is a betrayal of everything she stands for, so to go through with it proves how committed to the cause she is. If she’s willing to lose the one thing that makes Eda, well, Eda, it means that she’d do anything for the Isles. Such an action makes her far more than the con-artist we got introduced to in “A Lying Witch and a Warden.” Still, it leaves this sick feeling in my stomach to see her branded like that.

But don’t worry. That sickness gets replaced by sadness real quick.

Eda’s Talk With Raine, Lilith, and Hooty: Yup. That’s the good stuff…

This scene is everything. Eda already had a final moment with her kids, so to give her time with the other most important people in her life really hits hard. Raine and Lilith tell Eda to be careful, in which she reasures them both that everything will be fine. She even kisses Hooty on the head! That’s not only sweet as all forms of hell, but it says alot about how Eda sees her relationship with Hooty. He certainly got on her nerves a couple of times, but she cares about him enough to reassure Hooty that she’ll make it out alright. Granted, Eda doesn’t know that, but what’s she going to say? That things are as scary as they seem and that there’s a good chance things will go wrong? No. We know Eda, and we’ve seen that if given the chance, she’ll put a positive spin on things even though they’re dire. She did it with Luz in “Agony of a Witch,” and she’ll do it again here. I wouldn’t call it overconfidence, but rather Eda just caring about her loved ones so much that she’s willing to hide her own fears from them. Not the best thing to do, but it does further emphasize the nobility within her that the coven brand already revealed. And it’s incredible.

Belos Preparing to Leave: But if there’s anybody who’s best described as overconfident, it’s this son of a witch! You can tell how sure Belos is about his victory with how he quickly drops his act the second he begins the draining spell. He discards his old witch robes, makes himself look human, explicitly admits that he lied to The Collector, and just tells Kikimora to go die in a hole. Even when Luz shows up, Belos doesn’t look surprised or worried. If anything, it’s like he expected this to happen and was readily prepared for it. It’s not like he’ll be scared. Why would he? The draining spell has started and there’s very little that anyone can do to stop it. All he has left is to take care of this one “pest,” and he’s good to go in leaving everything behind. It’s a testament to just how confident Belos is in his schemes, to the point where he doesn’t consider that there’s the tiniest possibility that something could go wrong. Even though the people he disregarded ended up being what lead to his downfall.

But we’ll get into that. For now, we’ve got some action to go through!

The Kids (and Alador) Fighting the Other Airships: This is a pretty fun set-piece. The little ways that everyone works together to stop the airships attacking is extraordinary. They all contribute in a unique way with Gus covering them with an illusion, Hunter going for a full frontal assault, Willow saving Hunter’s dumbass, and Amity shutting down the abomitons while Alador drives their airship. It’s teamwork to the extreme, being a blast to see for every second. My only complaint is that I wish it could have gone on longer. I’m not saying I’m disappointed that we didn’t get an extended action scene. I just would have loved to see MORE. Still, I can live with how little we got.

Darius and Eberwolf Fighting Covenheads: This is another fight scene I wish was longer. Seeing Darius and Eberwolf fight through the covenheads to the best of their ability was awesome, not only in the ways that Darius and Eberwolf hold out on their own, but also for the chance to see what the other covenheads can do. Still makes me wish that we got an entire episode with them like we did with Terra and Adrian, but…eh. There’s literally nothing I or the writers can do to change that, so complaining that a series doesn’t give me more of something awesome is pretty petty at this point. Believe me.

So, I’ll take the little awesomeness for what it’s worth. Especially for the short character moments it gives us, like Darius stopping the second it looked like Eberwolf was in danger. I found that weirdly wholesome for some reason. I don’t know why.

Eda Telling Terra She’s Making a Mistake: Unfortunately, the wholesomeness doesn’t last.

The fear in Eda’s voice as she pleads with Terra to understand is something we rarely hear in her. There have been times when it’s evident how scared or worried Eda is for the people she loves, whether it’s Luz breaking into the Conformitorium or the Emperor’s Coven looking for Luz. This time, though, I feel like it’s the most afraid Eda’s ever been, and I can’t blame her. Literally the fate of EVERYONE is based on the draining spell failing, so of course, she’ll be scared out of her wits when it looks like everyone is going to die and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. It’s a moment that leaves them helpless, and some of HER fear bleeds into me.

But if you think Eda’s worried about everyone dying, just imagine how’d she react to what Luz is up to.

Luz Trying to “Make A Deal” with Belos: Don’t mind me. Just watching one of my favorite characters in all of fiction being turned to stone and can’t do anything to stop it. Carry on.

Real talk, though, this is the closest Luz has ever come to death…and I think she knows it. You see it in the way that she flounders to get Belos to agree in having Luz as a guide, as well as in how she begins to cry as the stone reaches her face. And what’s great (I can’t believe I just described this as great) is that Luz doesn’t appeal to Belos with kind words like she usually does with people. Instead, Luz uses logic, explaining to Belos that letting her live is the smartest thing to do. The reason that works is because reaching out to Belos’ humanity would be pointless. There’s nothing human left inside him anymore, so the only thing she has left is to use the one thing he understands: Logic. Still, it was an evidential shot in the dark that he’d take this deal, and you can all but see the relief in Luz when he does. And it’s a good thing he did…because it gave Luz the one thing she needed.

Luz Branding Belos: I feel like a show is doing something right when it makes me want to get up and cheer over a character doing something brilliant.

Seriously, moments like this are why Luz is one of my favorite characters in all of fiction. She doesn’t overpower her enemies, but instead outsmarts them. She is more or less a crafty strategist who uses her wits and environment to get a leg up on someone else, doing tricks like this that would make her adoptive owl mom proud. And it was a solid plan too…considering that–

The Draining Spell Begins to Take Effect: This…left me sick to my stomach.

Everyone realizing what the spell is doing and trying to just…run? Only to then realize that they’re trapped and can’t escape their fate? It was…horrifying. It was the most horrifying thing that I’ve seen in a kids’ show, and that’s saying something given all the s**t this series pulled in just this season alone.

Hell, even this episode seems pretty grim. Especially with what happens to Belos.

Belos’ Final Form: And people questioned my logic when I announced that Belos would be the Venom-stand-in for my Spider-Luz AU.

“Oh, I wOuLd HaVe MaDe HiM gReEn GoBlIn–”

Honey, look at this thing:

Does THIS scream Green Goblin to you?! COME ON, NOW! Come ON, now…also, spoilers for my Spider-Luz AU, I guess.

My bad.

Alright, now that I got my silliness out of the way, I really DIG his final form. I mean, it kind of sucks that his powerful magic is now restricted to evil rage demon, but at the same time…look at him! He's a horrifying looking creature, and I adore it. Plus, with all the ways that he attacks like a wild animal, forming weapons with…whatever the hell he’s made of, it results in a pretty cool final boss…even though our characters could hardly fight him.

The Kids Fighting Belos: What’s interesting about this is that nothing that the kids could do actually hurts Belos. Maybe trap or distract him for a couple of seconds, but never really leave a dent to him. Gus is the one to do the most damage by bringing up stuff that Belos hid away, and even then, that didn’t really hurt Belos. If anything, it pissed him off. And I’m weirdly ok with this. It shows that while Belos isn’t the same witch who can perform spells that Luz can barely keep up with, he’s still very much unstoppable. It’d really take a force of nature to put an end to Belos…Or, a godlike child.

And we’re CLOSE to getting to that. Trust me. There’s just one thing I want to talk about first. Or, rather, one gremlin

Kikimora: It’s always the ones you least expect.

Who would have guessed it would be Kikimora, Belos’ most loyal stooge, would be the one to help lead to his downfall? Turns out all it took was seeing his true colors and witnessing the end of the world.

Now, normally I’d prefer a villain’s redemption to be handled a little more…well paced, but I wouldn’t call this a redemption, per se. More like a character getting pissed off at another to the point of murder. Sure, she probably didn’t expect what The Collector would EXACTLY do to Belos, but I doubt she’d leave murder off the table after how he treated her. It truly shows that Belos’ own confidence in being unbeatable is what led to his defeat.

As for where Kikimora leads King…

The Gold Guard Graveyard: ANOTHER thing that leaves me sick to my stomach.

We all assumed that the Golden Guards in Belos’ mind was all he killed…but apparently that was REALLY stupid of us. Turns out, Belos is WAY more of a twisted f**k than we thought, as he’s killed dozens of “failures” to the point that he’s all but made a graveyard for them. It’s…awful. But it’s supposed to BE awful, so…you know. Job well-done. I guess.

But, hey, don’t worry…things get worse.

King Meets the Collector: I don’t know what interests me more in this interaction, the fact that the Collector couldn’t see King or that they originally wanted to play with him.

To be fair, both are pretty fascinating. The symbols in King’s “castle” being something to help him hide from The Collector proves that The Collector himself is worthy of being someone to hide from. All they want to do is play, but we’ll soon learn just the extent of why that’s a bad idea. But there’s still the fact that he knew King specifically, meaning that it’s possible that King’s father is the one who trapped The Collector in the first place. Because while hiding King is one thing, getting rid of the monster looking for him is another.

Through just one meeting of two characters who have never heard of each other until that day, we get so much lore and backstory behind both of them. But that’s not even the best(?) part.

King Makes a Deal With The Collector: This plan. THIS. PLAN.

This plan…is going to lead to some debate.

Because it’s a stupid plan. But at the same time, it’s the only thing that saves EVERYONE. Yet, it also led to people being in MORE danger. Meaning that while they’re still alive, would it have been better if they were dead? So as not to suffer the wrath of someone who could potentially be WORSE than Belos?

It is an interesting scenario where everyone wins, but everyone loses at the same time. And let me tell you: No other series, kids’ show or not, has ever made me question whether something was the right call. Because I can see why King did this, but I also imagine the destruction it could lead to. And for that…we’ll just have to wait and see where it could lead. For now, there’s one last thing I want to talk about before.

Raine Rips Off Eda’s Arm: I’m well aware that this sounds horrible out of context…but, I don’t know. How do you WANT me to say it?

This really is a brilliant solution that I’m surprised none of us thought of…Well, MoringMark thought of it. Technically.

But, yeah, ripping off Eda’s arm so that the spell would stop affecting her is pretty clever. The mix of the draining spell and the curse causes it to decay into nothing, leaving Eda free from the magic and maybe even the coven brand itself. So, that’s the good news…the bad news is the position it leaves her in.

Right now, Eda is missing an arm, holding the person she loves most as they die in her embrace, and has NO IDEA of the danger her kids are in. And THAT is where we leave her this season. In a very bad predicament that we have no idea how she’ll recover from it. Or IF she’ll recover from it, that is. It’s crazy to think about how this is the last time we’ll see Eda for MONTHS, all because a certain someone decided to steal the show. And steal it they did.

The Collector in His Physical Form: You know, I was already on board with this character when they were basically just a shadow. But seeing him in their physical form and finally getting a chance to shine, I am more invested in this character than ever.

In the last few minutes they were on screen, The Collector turns Belos into paste, moves the moon, and forms the Isles into his own personal playpen. In other words, The Collector is certainly going to be a terrifying antagonist. Yet, the crazy thing about them is that I wouldn’t say they’re evil.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s beyond nuts…but they’re also just a kid. Kids are nuts, yo! My nephew the other day said he’d rip Spider-Man’s butt off and then laughed like the little psycho that he is. The reason why I wasn’t worried about it was because I knew he was a kid who just didn’t understand how the world works and why some things are a bit messed up. It’s the same with The Collector. What he’s doing is messed up, but they don’t know that. He thinks that they’re playing a game and are unaware of how…fragile the players are. And THAT is what makes The Collector a unique antagonist. He’s a child with the powers of a god. They’re terrifying and insane, but in an almost innocent way. I’m not saying that because The Collector is a kid that excuses their actions, but I AM saying that after everything he’s done, they should expect a severe grounding when this series is over.

Unfortunately, this season has yet to end.

We’ve still got some more pain to go through…

Luz Trying to Stay and Keep Everything Together: Because, of course, she did.

Another great thing about Luz is her nobility. She doesn’t want to just run as everything is tearing down around her while there are people in danger. Instead, Luz will try to sacrifice herself at the first chance if it means someone she loves is safe. It’s what makes her Luz…but in trying to protect her loved ones, she ends up hurting them. Amity was literally begging Luz to come into the human realm, both because Amity doesn’t want to be apart again AND because she doesn’t want to lose someone else she loves. Alador ran off to distract the abomitons so the kids could be safe, and the twins are…Titan knows where, so if Amity lost Luz, she might just crack. And think of her friends? Do you think Gus, Willow, and maybe even Hunter would want to leave Luz behind so easily? But worst of all is Camila. How would she react to learning that her daughter is still trapped in another dimension while these four random kids aren’t? Something tells me she wouldn’t take the news well.

I get why Luz does this, but she needs to think more about the people she’s saving. For her greatest character trait is also her greatest weakness.

Just like how my greatest weakness is angst.

King Forcing Luz and Her Friends into the Human Realm: Yup…that hurt.

At the beginning of the season, King screamed how he would never let Luz go, caring so much about her that he doesn’t want to be apart. So to have King be the one to push Luz out the portal door says so much. Because while King values being with Luz forever, he cares more about her being safe above everything else. So, he does the one thing Luz could have done if the roles were reversed. And, just like Luz, he wasn’t aware of the pain this would cause.

Also, I didn’t want to be right when I said that Eda, Luz, and King’s scene together in “Clouds on the Horizon” would be their last scene together for a while. I really didn’t. But, yeah, that looks like where this is heading. And to tell you the truth, that might be more tragic than the Season Two finale of “Amphibia.” At least there, Anne may have been separated from Sasha and Marcy, but she wasn’t torn apart from her “family.” The Plantars still came with her to Earth, keeping Anne with the people she cares about the most. Here…it’s sort of different for Luz. She’s still with her friends, but her family is torn apart in all sorts of ways. Eda is stuck with Raine and a handful of dying witches, King is forced as The Collector’s playmate, and Luz is separated from both of them with no conceivable way of returning. A series is as strong as the bond between its main characters, so to have them separate like this leaves the series in a position where I don’t even know how the characters will resolve this.

So to end the season like THAT…earns so much of my respect

IN CONCLUSION

Is “King’s Tide” a satisfying conclusion? Is a hummingbird’s heart rate 1,260 beats per minute?

…Yes. The answer is yes–THIS FINALE WAS AWESOME!

There was great action and heartbreaking drama that still gave us some solid character building moments that led to a finale of epic proportions. I’m sure there are some nitpicks to be had, but I don’t care. Everything is done so well that why should I bother complaining about a few small problems that I might have.

An A+ all around, and I can’t wait for Season Three…whenever the hell that decides to come out.

[angelicyoongie]

Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”  

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.  

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

[lokiondisneyplus]

'Loki' takes over: Tom Hiddleston on his new TV series and a decade in the MCU

Ten years after Hiddleston first chose chaos in Thor, Marvel’s fan favorite God of Mischief is going even bigger with his time-bending Disney+ show.

Tom Hiddleston is Loki, and he is burdened with glorious purpose: After playing Thor's puckish brother for over a decade in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, no one understands the mercurial Asgardian God of Mischief as well as the actor. He can teach an entire seminar on Loki if given the opportunity — which he actually did during pre-production on his forthcoming Disney+ show. In conversation, Hiddleston quotes lines from his MCU debut, 2011's Thor, almost verbatim, and will playfully correct you if you mistakenly refer to Asgard's Rainbow Bridge as the Bifrost, which is the portal that connects Loki and Thor's homeworld to the Nine Realms, including Midgard, a.k.a. Earth. "Well, the Bifrost technically is the energy that runs through the bridge," he says with a smile. "But nine points to Gryffindor!" And when he shows up to the photo shoot for this very digital cover, he hops on a call with our photo editor to pitch ways the concept could be even more Loki, like incorporating the flourish the trickster does whenever magically conjuring something. The lasting impression is that playing Loki isn't just a paycheck.

"Rather than ownership, it's a sense of responsibility I feel to give my best every time and do the best I can because I feel so grateful to be a part of what Marvel Studios has created," the 40-year-old Brit tells EW over Zoom a few days after the shoot and a week out from Thor's 10th anniversary. "I just want to make sure I've honored that responsibility with the best that I can give and the most care and thought and energy."

After appearing in three Thor movies and three Avengers, Hiddleston is bringing that passion to his first solo Marvel project, Loki, the House of Ideas' third Disney+ series following the sitcom pastiche WandaVision and the topical The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Led by head writer Michael Waldron (Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Heels), the six-episode drama sees Hiddleston's shapeshifting agent of chaos step out from behind his brother's shadow and into the spotlight for a timey-wimey, sci-fi adventure that aims to get to the bottom of who Loki really is. "I wanted to explore slightly more complex character questions," says Waldron. "It's not just good versus bad. Is anybody all good? Is anybody all bad? What makes a hero, a hero? A villain, a villain?"  

Even though Loki — who loves sowing mayhem with his illusion magic and shapeshifting, all with a major chip on his shoulder — has never been one for introspection, the idea of building an entire show around him was a no-brainer for Marvel. When asked why Loki was one of the studio's first Disney+ shows, Marvel president Kevin Feige replies matter-of-factly, "More Hiddleston, more Loki." First introduced as Thor's (Chris Hemsworth) envious brother in Kenneth Branagh's Thor, Loki went full Big Bad in 2012's The Avengers. That film cemented the impish rogue as one of the shared universe's fan favorites, thanks to Hiddleston's ability to make him deliciously villainous yet charismatic and, most importantly, empathetic. The character's popularity is one of the reasons he's managed to avoid death many times.

"He's been around for thousands of years. He had all sorts of adventures," says Feige. "Wanting to fill in the blanks and see much more of Loki's story [was] the initial desire [for the series]."

The Loki we meet on the show is not the one who fought the Avengers in 2012 and evolved into an antihero in Thor: The Dark World and Thor: Ragnarok before meeting his demise at the hands of the mad titan Thanos (Josh Brolin) in 2018's Avengers: Infinity War. Instead, we'll be following a Loki from a branched timeline (a variant, if you will) after he stole the Tesseract following his thwarted New York invasion and escaped S.H.I.E.L.D. custody during the time heist featured in Avengers: Endgame. In other words, this Loki hasn't gone through any sort of redemption arc. He's still the charming yet petulant god who firmly believes he's destined to rule and has never gotten his due.

Premiering June 9, Loki begins with the Time Variance Authority — a bureaucratic organization tasked with safeguarding the proper flow of time — arresting the Loki Variant seen in Endgame because they want his help fixing all of the timeline problems he caused while on the run with the Tesseract. So there will be time travel, and a lot more of it than in Endgame. As Loki makes his way through his own procedural, he'll match wits with new characters including Owen Wilson's Agent Mobius, a brilliant TVA analyst, and Gugu Mbatha-Raw's Judge Renslayer. The question in early episodes is whether Loki will help them or take over.

"One of the things Kevin Feige led on was, 'I think we should find a way of exploring the parts of Loki that are independent of his relationship with Thor,' or see him in a duality or in relationship with others, which I thought was very exciting," says Hiddleston, who also serves as an executive producer on the show. "So the Odinson saga, that trilogy of films, still has its integrity, and we don't have to reopen it and retell it."

Yet, in order to understand where Loki is going, it's important to see where he came from.

Hiddleston can't believe how long he and Loki have been connected. "I've been playing this character for 11 years," he says. "Which is the first time I have said that sentence, I realize, and it [blows] my mind. I don't know what percentage that is exactly of my 40 years of being alive, but it's substantial."

His time as Loki actually goes a bit further back, to 2009 — a year after Robert Downey Jr. big banged the MCU into existence with Iron Man — when he auditioned for Thor. It's no secret that Hiddleston initially went in for the role of the titular God of Thunder, but Feige and director Kenneth Branagh thought his natural charm and flexibility as an actor made him better suited for the movie's damaged antagonist. "Tom gave you an impression that he could be ready for anything, performance-wise," says Branagh, who had previously worked with him on a West End revival of Checkov's Ivanov and the BBC series Wallander. "Tom has a wild imagination, so does Loki. He's got a mischievous sense of humor and he was ready to play. It felt like he had a star personality, but he was a team player."

Hiddleston fully immersed himself in the character. Outside of studying Loki's history in the Marvel Comics, he also researched how Loki and the Trickster God archetype appeared across mythology and different cultures. "He understood that he was already in something special [and] it was a special character in a special part of that early moment in the life of the Marvel universe where [he] also needed to step up in other ways," says Branagh, who was impressed by the emotional depth Hiddleston brought to the part, especially when it came to how isolated Loki felt in the Asgardian royal family.  

There was a lot riding on that first Thor feature. For one, no one knew if audiences would immediately latch onto a Shakespearean superhero movie partially set on an alien planet populated by the Norse Gods of legend. Second, it was integral to Feige's plans for the shared universe. Loki was supposed to be the main villain in The Avengers, which would not only mirror how Earth's mightiest heroes joined forces in 1963's Avengers #1 but also give Thor a believable reason for teaming up with Iron Man, Captain America (Chris Evans), and the rest of the capes. Feige first clued Hiddleston into those larger plans when the actor was in L.A. before Thor started shooting.

"I was like, 'Excuse me?' Because he was already three, four steps ahead," says Hiddleston. "That took me a few minutes to process, because I didn't quite realize how it just suddenly had a scope. And being cast as Loki, I realized, was a very significant moment for me in my life, and was going to remain. The creative journey was going to be so exciting."

Hiddleston relished the opportunity to go full villain in Avengers, like in the scene where Loki ordered a crowd to kneel before him outside a German opera house: "It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation," says the Machiavellian god. "The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

"I just knew that in the structure of that film, I had to lean into his role as a pure antagonist," Hiddleston recalls. "What I always found curious and complex about the way Loki is written in Avengers, is that his status as an antagonist comes from the same well of not belonging and being marginalized and isolated in the first Thor film. Loki now knows he has no place in Asgard."

Loki did find a place within the audience's hearts, though. Feige was "all in" on Hiddleston as his Loki from the beginning, but even he couldn't predict how much fans would love him. Feige recalls the reaction at the 2013 San Diego Comic-Con: "Did we know that after he was the villain in two movies, he would be bringing thousands of people to their feet in Hall H, in costume, chanting his name? No, that was above and beyond the plan that we were hoping for and dreaming of." It was a dream Feige first got an inkling of a year earlier during the Avengers press tour when a Russian fan slipped past security, snuck into Mark Ruffalo's car, and asked the Hulk actor to give Hiddleston a piece of fan art she created. "That was one of the early signs there was much more happening with this quote-unquote villain."  

Despite that popularity, the plan was to kill Loki off in 2013's Thor: The Dark World, but the studio reversed course after test audiences refused to believe he actually died fighting the Dark Elves. Alas, he couldn't out-illusion death forever. After returning in Taika Waititi's colorful and idiosyncratic Thor: Ragnarok, Hiddleston's character perished for real in the opening moments of Infinity War. In typical Loki fashion, before Thanos crushed his windpipe, he delivered a defiant speech that indicated he'd finally made peace with the anger he felt toward his family.  

"It felt very, very final, and I thought, 'Okay, that's it. This is Loki's final bow and a conclusive end to the Odinson saga,'" says Hiddleston, who shot that well-earned death scene in 2017.  

But, though he didn't know it yet, the actor's MCU story was far from over.

Credit: Charlie Gray for EW

When Hiddleston returned to film two scenes in Avengers: Endgame in 2017, he had no idea where Loki portaled off to after snatching the Tesseract. "Where'd he go? When does he go? How does he get there? These are all questions I remember asking on the day, and then not being given any answers," Hiddleston recalls. To be fair, it's likely the Powers That Be didn't necessarily have answers then. While Feige can't exactly recall when the writers' room for Endgame first devised Loki's escape sequence, he does know that setting up a future show wasn't the primary goal — because a Loki series wasn't on the horizon just yet.

"[That scene] was really more of a wrinkle so that one of the missions that the Avengers went on in Endgame could get screwed up and not go well, which is what required Cap and Tony to go further back in time to the '70s," says Feige. Soon after that, though, former Disney CEO Bob Iger approached Feige about producing content for the studio's forthcoming streaming service. "I think the notion that we had left this hanging loose end with Loki gave us the in for what a Loki series could be. So by the time [Endgame] came out, we did know where it was going."

As for Hiddleston, he didn't find out about the plans for a Loki show until spring 2018, a few weeks before Infinity War hit theaters. "I probably should not have been surprised, but I was," says the actor. "But only because Infinity War had felt so final."

Nevertheless, Hiddleston was excited about returning for his show. He was eager to explore Loki's powers, especially the shapeshifting, and what it meant that this disruptive figure still managed to find a seat beside the gods in mythology. "I love this idea [of] Loki's chaotic energy somehow being something we need. Even though, for all sorts of reasons, you don't know whether you can trust him. You don't know whether he's going to betray you. You don't why he's doing what he's doing," says Hiddleston. "If he's shapeshifting so often, does he even know who he is? And is he even interested in understanding who he is? Underneath all those masks, underneath the charm and the wit, which is kind of a defense anyway, does Loki have an authentic self? Is he introspective enough or brave enough to find out? I think all of those ideas are all in the series — ideas about identity, ideas about self-knowledge, self-acceptance, and the difficulty of it."

“The series will explore Loki's powers in a way they have not yet been explored, which is very, very exciting.”

The thing that truly sold Hiddleston on the show was Marvel's decision to include the Time Variance Authority, a move he describes as "the best idea that anybody had pertaining to the series." Feige and Loki executive producer Stephen Broussard had hoped to find a place for the TVA — an organization that debuted in 1986's Thor #372 and has appeared in She-Hulk and Fantastic Four stories — in the MCU for years, but the right opportunity never presented itself until Loki came along. "Putting Loki into his own procedural series became the eureka moment for the show," says Feige.  

The TVA's perspective on time and reality also tied into the themes that Waldron, Loki's head writer, was hoping to explore. "Loki is a character that's always reckoning with his own identity, and the TVA, by virtue of what they do, is uniquely suited to hold up a mirror to Loki and make him really confront who he is and who he was supposed to be," says Waldron. Hiddleston adds: "[That] was very exciting because in the other films, there was always something about Loki that was very controlled. He seemed to know exactly what the cards in his hand were and how he was going to play them…. And Loki versus the TVA is Loki out of control immediately, and in an environment in which he's completely behind the pace, out of his comfort zone, destabilized, and acting out."

To truly dig into who Loki is, the creative team had to learn from the man who knows him best: Hiddleston. "I got him to do a thing called Loki School when we first started," says director Kate Herron. "I asked him to basically talk through his 10 years of the MCU — from costumes to stunts, to emotionally how he felt in each movie. It was fantastic."

Hiddleston got something out of the Loki school, too. Owen Wilson both attended the class and interviewed Hiddleston afterward so that he could better understand Loki, as his character Mobius is supposed to be an expert on him. During their conversation, Wilson pointedly asked Hiddleston what he loved about playing the character.

"And I said, 'I think it's because he has so much range,'" says Hiddleston. "I remember saying this to him: 'On the 88 keys on the piano, he can play the twinkly light keys at the top. He can keep it witty and light, and he's the God of Mischief, but he can also go down to the other side and play the heavy keys. And he can play some really profound chords down there, which are about grief and betrayal and loss and heartbreak and jealousy and pride.'" Hiddleston recalls Wilson being moved by the description: "He said, 'I think I might say that in the show.' And it was such a brilliant insight for me into how open Owen is as an artist and a performer.'"

Owen Wilson as Mobius and Tom Hiddleston as Loki in 'Loki.'| Credit: Chuck Zlotnick/Marvel Studios

Everyone involved is particularly excited for audiences to see Hiddleston and Wilson's on-screen chemistry. "Mobius is not unlike Owen Wilson in that he's sort of nonplussed by the MCU," says Feige. "[Loki] is used to getting a reaction out of people, whether it's his brother or his father, or the other Avengers. He likes to be very flamboyant and theatrical. Mobius doesn't give him the reaction he's looking for. That leads to a very unique relationship that Loki's not used to."

As for the rest of the series, we know that Loki will be jumping around time and reality, but the creative team isn't keen on revealing when and where. "Every episode, we tried to take inspiration from different things," says Waldron, citing Blade Runner's noir aesthetic as one example.

"Part of the fun of the multiverse and playing with time is seeing other versions of characters, and other versions of the titular character in particular," says Feige, who also declined to confirm if Loki ties into Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and/or other upcoming projects.

Making Loki was especially meaningful to Hiddleston because they shot most of it during the pandemic, in late 2020. "It will remain one of the absolute most intense, most rewarding experiences of my life," he says. "It's a series about time, and the value of time, and what time is worth, and I suppose what the experience of being alive is worth. And I don't quite know yet, and maybe I don't have perspective on it, if all the thinking and the reflecting that we did during the lockdown ended up in the series. But in some way, it must have because everything we make is a snapshot of where we were in our lives at that time."

While it remains to be seen what the future holds for Loki beyond this initial season, Hiddleston isn't preparing to put the character to bed yet. "I'm open to everything," he says. "I have said goodbye to the character. I've said hello to the character. I said goodbye to the character [again]. I've learned not to make assumptions, I suppose. I'm just grateful that I'm still here, and there are still new roads to explore."

[myckicade]

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

*

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

*

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

*

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

*

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

*

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

*

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which a new relationship sparks up in the restaurant. 

a/n: hi loves! i’m back with a new story, and this is for nat’s @harrystylescherry​ playlist fic challenge! the song i chose is ‘say it’ by maggie rogers, which is one of my absolute favorite songs! hope you all like it, please reblog and leave feedback!

WORD COUNT: 13.8k words of waiter!harry x waitress!yn 

WARNINGS: angst and some smut 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SAY IT’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share <3

It was eleven in the morning when Harry walked through the back door of ‘Spring,’ ready to start his long day of being on his feet while waiting tables. 

He walked to the staff’s lounge that held their lockers and a bench before looking around to see if anyone else was in the locker room; he turned the dial of his lock pad to open his blue locker. His coworkers would always tease him about being so secretive when he knows that no one would actually steal from him, but better to be safe than sorry, and he couldn’t imagine how awkward that would be confronting one of his coworkers if they actually had stolen from him. 

He put his white canvas tote bag that was printed in a brown text that said ‘Celestial Natural Foods’—a store in Hawaii—in his locker and hanging it on one out of the two hooks before grabbing his black waist apron and tying it around his waist. 

The restaurant’s attire was a simple white or black button down with black trousers. The manager of the restaurant, Irene, told the staff that they could choose either color shirt whenever they pleased. As for jewelry, she didn’t mind when her waiters and waitresses wore jewelry, as long as it wasn’t interfering with how they held the plates of food, causing them to drop it. Harry was glad to hear that Irene allowed jewelry because his rings and necklaces made him Harry. Twisting his rings and fixing his necklaces, he took a quick glance at the small mirror that was stuck on the inside of the door with a magnet, and combed his hair back with his hands before closing his locker shut and locking it. 

He washed his hands at the sink next to the locker room, and he smiled at the commotion and noise from behind him that came from the kitchen crew. They were prepping for the dinner hour, chopping up various vegetables, making the restaurant’s famous dressing and sauces, and baking the side dishes that usually took a while in the oven. 

“Hey, Harry!” Jet, one of the sous chefs, greeted as he looked up at Harry with a big smile as he continued chopping up cabbage like the professional chef that he was. 

Harry chuckled, amazed at his knife skills. “Hey, Jet. How are you today?” He leaned against the stainless steel countertop as he talked to Jet through the open space of the shelves, where the food rested under the heated and dim light when it was ready to be served. 

“I’m doing great! How was your three day vacation?” 

“It was okay. It went by fast, but I missed it here anyways,” Harry responded with a smile. Jet laughed, nodding. 

“Well, we missed you too. Anyways, Irene told me to tell you that she’s looking for you.” Harry squinted his eyes slightly, not knowing whether Irene looking for him was a good or bad thing, and Jet seemed to notice what he was thinking. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing bad.” 

Harry nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. Jet was his closest friend at Spring, ever since Harry started working as a waiter three years ago. He desperately needed a job because being his own boss and freelancing as a photographer could be difficult sometimes; and building up a client list when he first started out was even harder. But three years later, he was able to get his name around through his clients, and he earned enough where he could technically quit his job at Spring and focused purely on photography; however, Harry liked the restaurant too much to just quit—he liked serving people, believe it or not. His charms go a long way for respectful and kind customers, and of course, a great tip. Most of his friends always worked here as well, as he didn’t have quite a lot of friends since he moved from London, but his coworkers had become his very own friends, and he loved them too much to leave. 

“Thanks, I’ll see you when we open!” Harry said as Jet waved to him, watching him walk around the counter to find Irene who was talking to a woman he’s never seen before. 

He’s always loved walking through the restaurant because it had such a friendly and open vibe with white painted walls, trees planted in a line in the middle of the floor, and a big glass ceiling for a solarium ambience. His favorite part was that there were no walls to separate the dining area from the kitchen, so customers could see straight through the kitchen and watch the chefs work on their food with just a turn of their heads. 

“Ah, there he is,” Irene said once Harry was close enough. “I’m glad you’re early.” 

“Irene, I’m always early, what do you mean?” Harry breathed out a chuckle. 

“I know you are. I’m just glad you’re extra early today because I need you to train this lovely woman next to me.” Irene stepped out of the way to reveal you to the waiter that was going to train you today. 

Harry looked at you, and immediately, his breath was caught in his throat. The light that was provided through the glass ceiling cast down at you, giving you a glow that was ethereal, and he mentally thanked the interior designer of the restaurant from so many years ago for insisting on putting a glass ceiling instead of a regular, covered one. There you were, standing in the open light as you flashed him a smile that almost made him collapse due to how weak his knees were, and he physically had to place a hand on the brown wooden table next to him to keep himself up. You were stunning, to say the least. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you offered him a hand, smiling softly at him. He shook your hand, feeling the softness of your small hand and how it contrasted to his large and somewhat rough hand. 

“I’m Harry. It’s lovely to meet you.” He smiled, two dimples indenting his cheeks. You noticed that his left dimple was more prominent than his right, but either way, you thought he was a gorgeous man. 

Yours and Harry’s eyes had lingered a bit longer, and once you had caught yourself staring, you forced yourself to take your eyes off him, even though it was difficult to. And that’s when you knew it was going to be a slight problem working around him. 

“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Irene interrupted. She turned towards Harry. “Harry, this is our newest addition to our waiting staff. You’ve been here long enough and it seems like you’re here everyday, so I’m going to leave her with you to train.” Once she was down, Irene turned towards you. “Y/N, you’re going to train with Harry for the rest of the week. It’s usually two weeks that are required for training, but since you’ve had waiting experience before, I’ll knock it down to one, and by the end of the week, we’ll see how you’re doing and where you are with everything. Sounds good?” 

You nodded excitedly, giving her a bright smile before she clapped her hands and said ‘great.’ Harry looked at you the entire time, and he just knew that you were the type of person that could light up a room with your beautiful and bright smile. 

Irene turned towards Harry once more. “Show her the ropes, introduce her to people, and just make her comfortable, yeah?” Harry nodded, teasingly saluting at his boss as he earned a laugh from her. 

Irene left, leaving the two of you, but your attention was preoccupied with the restaurant as you eagerly looked around, getting familiar with the place you’d hoped to be stable at for a while. 

Harry cleared his throat, to which you immediately looked at him. He gave you a smile before he said, “So, ready for your first day?” 

“Ready!” You exclaimed, tone a bit too excited, making you slightly embarrassed, so you curled your lips into your mouth and looked around the restaurant again to hide your slight embarrassment. 

Harry giggled. “Don’t look around too much—you might get tired of this place before you even start,” he teased, completely forgetting how shy and embarrassed you looked. 

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” you confessed immediately, feeling a certain comfort once you walked into the restaurant. Hell, the moment you researched the restaurant, you loved the place. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Harry led you around the counter where customers could watch the chefs in action as they cooked their meals. “This is where you could get all the supplies needed—napkins, extra plates, utensils, place mats, everything should be here. If not, then it’ll usually be in the kitchen, right over here.” He walked over to the kitchen where there were more supplies under the table, and pointed below the table. “Here’s more if the ones behind the counter run out, and if they do run out and you just so happen to be there, please make sure to refill it.” You nodded understandingly. 

Harry walked you through the steps of how the system of the restaurants worked as he imputed a demo order into the system on the touchable screen. There were five order screens, one in each corner of the restaurant, one behind the counter, and one in the kitchen; there shouldn’t be any collision or anyone waiting for one of the severs to finish with the screen because there were only about four to five servers working every shift considering it was a small restaurant. Harry then walked you along on where to pick up the order as every dish had its receipt with the order printed on the paper along with the table number. He told you that the table numbers are in order of how the tables are set up—number one starts with the countertops since it’s closest to the entrance, following along the walls, and the tables in the middle were numbered last. 

You liked how easy their routine and system was that you were sure you’d have it down by the end of the week. Harry made sure to introduce you to the staff that you two passed by as he led you throughout the restaurant; he made you feel comfortable right from the bat, making sure to make a few jokes here and there that certainly released some tension in your shoulders from nerves. You were grateful that he made you laugh--you were worried that you wouldn’t like your coworkers or they would be mean and snarky because you’re the newbie, but with Harry, it seemed like you two were getting along quite well; he was polite, helpful, and kind. 

“So, that’s pretty much it.” He looked at the time on his Apple Watch, reading a quarter to six in the evening, 15 minutes until Spring opened for dinner. “Do you have any questions?” 

You tried thinking of anything that you could ask, but your mind seemed to have collected all the information Harry had told you and retained it quite well. “No, nothing I can think of at the moment.” 

“Great. For now, do you mind checking the placemats and the table decor for me?” You nodded helpfully. “And then if you have any remaining time left, just chill out and take a breather for a second, and then come find me when we open.” 

“Okay. Sounds good.” You smiled at him sweetly, making him smile back before he walked away and towards the kitchen. 

You headed towards the dining room, making sure the woven placements were symmetrical and even; you also straightened out the utensils that made their way out of line or off the tablemats. You did this for the rest of the ten minutes you had of peace before you made your way through the restaurant to find Harry. 

The entire time you were in the dining room, Harry was in the locker room, mindlessly on his phone to waste time. He was lucky that he didn’t have to do anything before the restaurant opened, so he had some spare time to relax for a bit. He tried cooling down to get the pink flush that painted his cheeks off, but that’s what happened when he was around you; immediately, you had already had this effect on him, making him blush and nervous around you, and he didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way you brightly smiled at him, practically gleaming; or the way you laughed at his jokes, which even he could admit are a bit corny and bad—a very dad-like joke, but you still laughed. 

Whatever it was, he knew that he was fucked. 

Dinner time was a rush. Spring was busy and full; the reservation booklet was booked with no space to cater to walk-ins. 

You were shadowing Harry as you followed him around like a lost puppy, watching him interact with the customers, occasionally pulling out his charm so he would get a big tip. You couldn’t imagine if you were a customer and Harry was your server because your face would heat up instantly, and it would be difficult to contain a smile on your face. He had such a natural charm to him, making him naturally flirty as he flashed customers his smile and laughing at their horribly made jokes. 

For half of the night, you simply followed him around, watched the paths he took when he got the customers’ food and his overall routine of things. With every table he got assigned to, he made sure to introduce you to the party, always glancing over at you once he said your name as you greeted the customers with a bright smile. Harry nearly had to stop every time he glanced over at you as it seemed like your beauty always distracted him. 

You helped him with dealing with the plates, beverages, and getting extra necessities such as cheese, hot sauce, or extra utensils and plates for the table. 

Once the restaurant died down a bit, you and Harry were able to walk a bit slower, relaxing each time a party leaves. When there was about an hour and a half left of your shift and till the restaurant closes, Harry asked you if you’d like to take orders, saying it’ll be best if he observed how you would talk and serve the customers, and you excitedly said ‘yes.’ Harry was only assigned to five to six tables during his shift, and since it was near closing time, there were only two that had just arrived. 

Harry politely introduced himself, telling the parties that you were new and shadowing him, but you were going to take over for the rest of their stay at Spring. He watched you kindly talk to them, occasionally making small talk as you laughed with them; you talked about your favorite items on the menu, along with your favorite selection of wine. This time, Harry helped you with your tasks that you had done before you two switched off, and he immediately admitted to himself that the two of you made such a great team. It was only your first day here, and he already saw how naturally the both of you moved around one another, along with communicating so well with each other. 

You were bidding the last party in the restaurant goodbye with a wave and telling them to enjoy the rest of their evening before you grabbed the mason jar that held the bill, along with the tips. You walked over to the kitchen where Irene was counting all the money and placed the mason jar besides her, giving her a smile before walking over to the locker room. 

Harry was sitting on the bench with his phone in his hands, and looked up once you entered the room. 

“How was your first day?” He smiled. 

“It was actually really great. The energy here is amazing.” 

“Well, I’m glad. You’re a natural, and it helps both of us that you already have restaurant experience.” Harry completely put his phone away into his tote bag, giving you his attention, which you really admired. Some people would make small talk and quickly end the conversation to go back on their phones. “Where did you work before, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“I actually moved here from NorCal—San Francisco—just two weeks ago. But I worked at one of the restaurants at Pier 49. The restaurant was pretty small and we weren’t as busy as it was here, only on the weekends we would get a bit busy. So, this is definitely completely different than being outside and smelling the fresh ocean a few feet away,” you explained, chuckling. 

“Wow, SF, that’s quite the trip. But we’re glad to have you. I think you’re fitting right in.” 

“Thank you. I already like it here.” Harry gave you a warm smile, grateful that you had a great first day, and that Spring gave you a good first impression for you to stay. 

The two of you chatted a bit, talking about the customers you had and laughing at the jokes they made or the conversations they talked about. It was kind-hearted and fun, and a conversation that made you feel light; it wasn’t anything serious. It ended when it was time for closing, cleaning up and making sure everything was in order for tomorrow afternoon’s shift. 

Irene handed the staff their tips for the night, which you amounted for $120 for a Sunday night. It wasn’t bad for your first night of tips, and you knew you would be working a lot more since this was your only job and you weren’t doing anything else. 

As everyone walked outside into the staff parking lot, everyone said their goodbyes to one another, spreading apart and walking out to their vehicles. 

Once you opened your car door, Harry called out for you from the opposite side of where you parked. 

“Yeah?” You raised your brows. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He offered a smile before getting into his car and starting it, but he waited until you were safely inside of your car and out of the parking garage, and then he would leave. 

He couldn’t help but notice the smile that appeared onto your face before you got inside your car, and he couldn’t help but think about how incredibly beautiful you are. 

The entire week went on just like your first day. You were getting more comfortable with the flow of the restaurant, and where everything was. You continued shadowing Harry, but some days, he would let you serve your customers for the entire shift. 

Now that it was Friday evening, you couldn’t wait to relax the next day. You had told Irene that you were available all days of the week, and since you were new and still needed to complete training, she scheduled you for Sunday to Friday, getting Saturday off, which you appreciated. When you told yourself that you were able to work all day, you didn’t realize how exhausting and tiring that was until it came down to the end of the week as your feet ached, telling you to sit down for at least an entire day. 

Once it was closing time, you were finally able to catch a breath as you cleaned up part of the dining room. Chatter and laughter was heard from the kitchen quite loud as it echoed against the walls; you smiled, enjoying the sound of laughter, especially when it came from people you knew. 

As you were mindlessly wiping down tables, Harry walked up to you with two cocktails in his hands, smiling as he handed you one. You raised your brows, hesitant to take it from him as you wondered if it was allowed to drink since you were technically still on the clock. 

“Irene made them for us, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said as if he read your mind. You breathed out a chuckle, taking a glass before thanking him and clinking your glass with his before taking a sip of the cold tequila drink. You sighed in relief, and Harry giggled. “Do you have any plans for tonight? I know it’s almost midnight, but I mean…you could still.” He felt his ears heat up, feeling a tad bit nervous when he was around you. 

“No, I don’t. I don’t really have any friends in SoCal, but I can't wait to go home and sleep.” 

“O-Oh okay, I was just gonna ask if you’d like to stay for a bit longer.” 

“Here? For what?” You asked curiously. 

“Well, the lot of us get together after night shifts to do a mini celebration at the end of the long and busy week. We only do it Fridays since that’s when most of us are working all together,” he said referring to the bunch laughing and talking in the kitchen. You did notice now that you had been working with the same group of people, and partially that was because you only mostly worked night shifts and so did the rest. “We usually stay for an hour—drink, eat, talk. It made us closer, actually, so I’d thought you might like to join since you’re new,” he invited.

You didn’t take long to think of an answer—to weigh out your choices of wanting to go to bed at a somewhat reasonable time or stay an extra hour and hang out with your coworkers. 

“I’d actually really love that, thank you,” you accepted his invitation with a sweet smile, making Harry’s heart pound just a tad bit harder against his chest. 

“Great! Well, come on into the kitchen when you’re done. The chefs are cooking up some food,” he said before he walked away, leaving you to finish up your tasks for the night, which didn’t take you any more than ten minutes to finish up. 

You walked into the kitchen and Harry immediately handed you a plate that you gladly took. Jet excitedly waved to you to go over to the stove so he could serve you. 

“Allergic to anything?” He asked to make sure you weren’t going into the emergency room tonight. 

“Uh, shellfish when it’s consumed. I’m okay to be around it, though.”

“Oh shit, this would not be good for you.” His eyes widened as he immediately dropped the large silver serving spoon of the lobster risotto; it looked absolutely delicious. “Good thing I’m prepared. Do you like spaghetti and meatballs?” 

“Love.”

“Great!” He started plating your plate with the food before handing it back to you with an ‘enjoy!’ as you thanked him. 

Once everyone was satisfied, you all headed out to the dining table, settling on a large rectangle table comfortably. There were about twelve of you, and it seemed like everyone had assigned seats since they immediately went straight to their spot and placed their table or drink in front of it. 

You were a bit lost, not knowing where to sit, and the only person you’re reasonably close to was Harry, but it seemed like he was a bit preoccupied chatting with Quinn, another chef. 

“Y/N! Sit next to me, yeah?” Ivy, one of the waitresses called out for you. You smiled, thankful she was the one to ask you, and you gladly took a seat next to her. 

Harry took the seat in front of Ivy, diagonal from you, and he really wished he was the one sitting next to you. 

“Damn, I really should get a large circle table for all of us so we could see each other’s faces,” Irene suggested, and the group agreed, but everyone wondered where it would be placed since the restaurant had no space for another large table. 

Everyone broke out into their own conversations, chatting with one another freely and as loud as they wanted. 

“How was your first week here, Y/N?” Ivy asked. 

“It was great! I really love this place.” Harry looked at you as you talked with Ivy. He really could get lost just looking at your beauty, and sometimes, he would have to knock himself out of his glare to prevent him from getting caught. He was just so captivated by you, and it didn’t take a lot of effort for him to be so drawn to you. 

Ivy had definitely noticed Harry’s stare from the corner of her eye, and admittingly, she got jealous because she’s had a small crush on Harry ever since she started working at Spring four months ago. But it wasn’t like she was going to do anything about it because it seemed like he didn’t take interest in her, so she wasn’t going to force it. However, it didn’t slip past her that you occasionally glanced over at Harry as well—briefly averting your eyes towards him once he took a sip of his water or someone had pulled him out of his attention on you to make conversation. 

Gently pulling you by the arm, Ivy leaned over to whisper into your ear. “Harry’s totally crushing on you.” 

You pulled back, shocked. “What?” You mouthed. 

“He can’t stop looking at you—it’s so obvious.” You simply chuckled, shaking your head slightly as your cheeks felt warm, not from the alcohol or how close everyone was sitting, but because you couldn’t even believe that Harry would have a crush on you. Sure, you two had spent the entirety of your shifts together, but you didn’t think that he would have a crush on you. 

You tried not to think of Ivy’s words for the rest of the night, and you tried even harder to not look at Harry to catch it he was staring at you. Your thoughts seemed to make you more drunk when you were trying to sober up to drive back home. You only had three cocktails, which was quite mindless of you to be drinking when you had to drive home, but you simply wanted to have fun because you deserved it, and you were comfortable and making friends. And everyone seemed to be drinking as well as they were getting a ride from the more responsible ones who were driving and leaving their car in the parking garage during the night. 

Once everyone was all out of their social battery with their plates and glasses empty, you all started to clean up, helping one another to make the process of going home quicke; there were two people washing the dishes and two people drying as the rest put those dishes away and cleaned the table. 

Just like every single night, everyone said their goodbyes in the parking lot before going to their cars to head home for a good night's rest. 

You were sober, but you didn’t feel safe enough to drive, and you don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the thoughts of Harry making you dizzy. So, instead of walking to your car, you took out your phone and opened the Uber app, knowing you’d be able to get a ride home quickly since it was past midnight on a Friday night. 

“Hey, whatcha doing?” Harry asked, walking up to you once he noticed that you weren’t going to your car. He made it a habit to watch you get inside your car and leave the parking garage safely because anything could happen in the few minutes if he left before you. 

“I’m calling an Uber. I don’t wanna drive back…” you replied before looking down at your phone again.

“Oh, I could drive you home, if you’d like?” He offered politely. 

“Really? You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist. I would feel better knowing that I was the one that got you home safely.” The corners of your lips couldn’t help but turn up into a smile as your heart fluttered against your ribcage. 

“That’s really sweet, Harry, I’d like that,” you accepted. Harry grinned, leading you to his car as you followed; he walked over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, which easily almost made your knees buckle in. How is he such a gentleman and so incredibly kind? You wondered, thinking about how rare it was to meet a man without anything leading to more than a conversation. 

You thanked him before getting into his car; his car was very clean and he had a Saturn air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, admitting a fresh lemon scent throughout his vehicle. Harry got in, handing you his phone to play some music and to enter your address before starting the car and driving out of the parking garage. You played Daniel Caesar, which you thought was the perfect kind of music for a night drive since your place was fifteen minutes away from the restaurant. The two of you sang along to ‘Hold Me Down’ as he watched you from the corner of his eye, adorably swaying in your seat to the song as you muttered the lyrics. 

The sunroof cover was open, giving you an orange glow every time the car passed by a lamppost. Unconsciously, you both looked at one another every time the car stopped at a red light, both smiling at one another. You were thankful that it was dark out as it hid your big smile from how much you were giddy just looking at Harry. 

Once the navigation told him that your place was on the right, he parked against the curb in front of your apartment complex. You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning towards him in your seat as he turned towards you as well. 

“Thank you for the ride, Harry. It was really kind of you to offer.” 

“Not a problem. Don’t be hesitant to ask again. I rarely drink when we have our after-hours dinners, so you’re free to drink all you want and I’ll be glad to take you home,” he told you, and you smiled, nodding your head. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. It’s just been a while since I drank and hung out with friends,” you explained. 

“No worries. I’m glad you had fun, I assumed?” 

“Yeah, lots of fun! I really like it there, and you made it bearable and fun as well as my trainer,” you admitted. Harry felt his cheeks slightly redden, and just as you were thinking, he was grateful it was dark out. 

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad. You’ll be on your own now. No need for me anymore since you’ve pretty much gotten everything done so quickly,” he chuckled, a dimple indenting his left cheek, making you hold in your breath. 

“Can I still ask you for help if I need you?” You asked innocently, leaning your elbow against the middle console as you rested your chin against your fist. Harry pursed in his lips as his mind focused on the last three words that slipped out of your mouth--I need you. It was merely an innocent question relating to work that he shouldn’t think too much about, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Of course. I’m always gonna be here if you need me,” he responded, keeping it friendly. At that, you smiled, nodding your head in acceptance. You gathered your belongings that rested at your feet before turning to face him again. Leaning forward, Harry thought you were leaning in to kiss him, which he wouldn’t mind whatsoever, but that dream was crushed when you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, giving him a hug. He hugged you back, placing his hand against your back and slightly rubbing his hand up and down, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart hammering against his chest at the feel of your upper body slightly pressed against him. 

You pulled away, giving him a shy smile. “I’ll see you on Sunday. Drive safe, okay?” 

“Always do. Sleep well.” He bid you goodbye as you got out of his car, walking over to the entrance of your apartment complex. You turned around before you opened the door, waving at him before heading inside. 

Harry drove off to his place, the opposite direction of your apartment, passing Spring. He could’ve honestly been home already in the comfort of his bed, but he didn’t mind taking you home at all. That only meant he got to spend a bit of more time together, but he noticed that with every passing second, minute, and hour, he felt himself falling for you just a bit more. 

You’ve been at Spring for almost a month, and you couldn’t believe how fast the days went by. The more you worked, the more you started to feel a place at home with the restaurant. It was welcoming and fun, and all the credit was due to the people that you surrounded yourself with. You felt a difference in your attitude, your mood, and you liked the change that it brought you--you felt happy. 

Being in San Francisco your entire life was great up until it wasn’t. It was a toxic place for you simply because of the people that you were surrounded with. You noticed that you were always on fight-or-flight mode, ready for someone to make one comment at you so you could snap at them. You hated being and thinking like that, so the best thing you did for yourself was to move away from the toxicity of your hometown, and you were glad that you did. 

It was another usual Friday evening, after hours at Spring as you sat in your usual seat next to Ivy as the two of you and Harry were laughing about a story Ivy was telling about her ex-boyfriend in college. 

Harry looked over at you, heart swooning as he watched you laugh, wiping your under eyes from the tears that had slipped out. It was a beautiful sight, he’d say; you had such a beautiful smile and contagious laugh that he loved hearing, whether it’d be from the kitchen as he was in the dining room or in the locker room—wherever it was, he always smiled to himself when he heard it. 

The two of you had gotten quite close, making the work environment bearable and fun. When you would be in the same area at the same time, you had this thing where you would bump his hip with yours lightly, and he would bump yours right back—of course, when there weren’t any food or drink handling. There would always be light conversations within those hip bumps, comfortably getting to know one another, whether it would be asking quick-fire questions or a random story about one another’s lives that would come to mind. It wasn’t an ordinary setting or time to get to know each other, but it made things fun because the two of you would come up with more questions to come up with the next time he bumped into you. It was nice having a thing with you, he thought. 

There would be moments during those little meetings when your fingers would brush delicately against his, sending shivers to his body. It was simply overwhelming in the best way possible. 

Everyone called it a night, doing the nightly routine of tidying and cleaning everything up. Despite the long shift and being on your feet, you still had quite a bit of energy that you would like to use up so you could get a night’s rest. You looked at your friends, seeing if anyone was up for a late night adventure just based off of their posture and how often they yawned, and it seemed like everyone was exhausted, for obvious reasons. But you’d ask one person before you decide to go alone. 

Once everything was clean and ready for the Saturday’s brunch, everyone walked out of the restaurant, walking over to their cars. 

“Hey, Harry?” You called out, making him instantly turn around at the sound of your voice. 

“Yeah, love?” The pet name had merely slipped out, and you felt your face getting warm, shyly smiling. 

“Uh, you could totally say no and I would completely understand why because it’s Friday night, and we had a long shift, and you must be tired-”

“Y/N?” You stopped talking, raising your brows. “Breath, yeah? Take your time,” he interrupted the rambling that you hadn’t known you were doing. 

Nodding, you took a deep breath. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but every time you were around Harry, he just made you feel a certain swarm of butterflies entering your stomach. 

“I’m not as tired as I thought, and I wanna end tonight with some sweets. So, would you like to come with me to get some dessert? Again, you could say no.” 

Harry smiled. “I’d love to,” he replied with no second thought. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, of course. Plus, we could finally talk properly. Hate always walking away from our unfinished conversations.” He breathed out a chuckle, running his clad ring hand through his curls. 

“Great! Oh, uh, do you mind if we take your car? I took an Uber here, but I’ll compensate with buying you cookies and paying for your gas,” you suggested, keeping your excitement at bay. 

“No worries, c’mon. But I might take you up on the cookie offer.” He smiled, opening your door for you, which never failed to make you swoon. 

As he started the car, warming up the engine and turning the heater on, you two debated on where to go. You suggested going to Insomnia Cookies in Santa Monica, which was a twenty minute drive from Downtown LA, and it closed at two In the morning, but only if he was down to drive the opposite direction of where you two lived. And luckily, he didn’t mind the drive because he was always down for a late night drive and adventure, especially if it was with you. 

The car speakers played Frank Ocean, he merged on the 101, tapping his fingers along with the beat against the steering wheel. You subtly studied him as he drove, just as you did when you would glance at him across the restaurant. He always mindlessly curled his pink lips into his mouth, a habit that he, assumingly, had for years. You noticed how he would always play with his rings; his thumb would reach over to his other fingers to play with the heavy, metal rings; not helping that your mind would instantly go to what else his hands could do, especially to you, to your body, but you had to immediately snap yourself out of your thoughts to prevent them from going any further. Not to mention, the way his eyes always lit up; they had a natural gleam to them, making them incredibly irresistible to not look in his green eyes. 

He was captivating in all the right ways, and you felt yourself falling for him quite quickly, making that fear inside of you light up, inflaming your body with anxiousness. 

Your thoughts soon vanished when Harry pulled into a parking space in front of your destination, and he turned off the car. He turned to look at you, giving you a small smile before getting out. You decided to buy Harry anything he’d like, which he got the same six pack of cookies as you. 

Harry suggested eating in his car, which you agreed. Although the cold in SoCal wasn’t the same coldness as it was in NorCal, you didn’t want to stand around and freeze. The two of you make light conversation, talking about social media and enjoying the warmth of the fresh baked cookies. You then realized that you hadn’t followed him on Instagram, so you asked for his username, which was just his first and last name. 

“Your pictures are amazing,” you complimented.

“Stalking me already?” He teased. A smirk on his face present, making you roll your eyes as you didn’t know if you wanted to slap or kiss the smirk off—always wanting to go for the latter. “But thank you. I, uh, I actually took those myself.” Your eyes brightened. The photographs posted on his Instagram were mostly portraits of beautiful people, some of them were landscapes of a field or the mountains, but most of them were portraits. You knew very little about photography, thanks to the ‘Beginning of Photography 1’ class that you took in college, but you could see the depth of the picture and the way they’re taken; the emotion was clearly there, making you feel intensity through the picture. 

“Wow, you’re really talented, Harry.”

He blushed, looking down at his lap for a moment before looking back up at you again. “Thank you so much. I’m a freelance photographer.”

“Do you plan on leaving Spring to focus solely on photography?” You asked curiously. He softly smiled; he could hear the genuine tone in your voice, and he really appreciated that. 

“I’m not sure. I’ll have an appointment, maybe, three or four times a month? But the restaurant brings in more money, especially the tips,” he explained. 

You nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, you’re extremely talented, and one day, you’ll be at the place you want to be. Everything will work out.” Harry smiled in appreciation of your words, not saying anything else. 

Taking another bite of his cookie, he changed the subject. “So, do you miss any of your friends in SF?” 

You raised your brows, not expecting that question, but you answered honestly. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t. A month before moving here,” you began to open up vulnerably; you hadn’t spoken to anyone about this. “I got out of a long relationship—quite toxic, honestly,” you said, looking at him. He had this look on his face that was so comforting, not a word coming out of his mouth, asking for details; it didn’t tell you that he was nosy or pressing you to tell him more. It simply told you that he was there to listen, whenever you were ready to tell him, and you really appreciated that. 

You hadn’t realized how hard it was talking about your past relationship because it had been all bottled up until now.  A deep breath came out of your mouth, and Harry immediately realized that it must’ve been a hard subject to speak about. Unexpected to you, he reached over to grab your hand, holding it gently as his thumb caressed your skin. He hoped he masked his nervousness well, making the smallest physical touch with you when, really, his pulse was hammering against his veins, heart pounding through his chest as his breathing began to feel erratic, but outside he remained cool, calm, and collected as if the touch didn’t drive him insane. 

You tried not letting Harry’s thumb, caressing the back of your hand, affect your ability to speak a coherent sentence, so you continued. “Uh, my ex was cheating on me with someone in our friend group. He told me not to worry about her, but you know how that goes when you hear that phrase. It was with a girl that I used to date—my first relationship, actually. The worst part of it was when I found out, I took him back when he promised he wouldn’t do it again and claimed that he loved me, and then I took him back again, and again and again.” 

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to not let the hand holding yours squeeze tightly so the blood circulation cuts off because he felt angry. He was so mad because how could anyone do that to you? Sweet, kind, and lovely you? 

“When I told him I couldn’t handle it anymore—all the lies, cheating, and betrayal—I broke up with him. Our friend group turned against me, completely ignored me. Now that I think about it, I noticed they started to be cold and rude towards me once they started sneaking around, and I have no clue why because I didn’t do anything to them. Guess they were just covering up for them because everyone knew except me, and I just felt so stupid because I was so clueless to think he ever loved me to forgive him so many times.” 

You started to sniffle as the bad memories that you lived through for the few months of the betrayal started to come up again. You were doing a good job not thinking about it when you started working at the restaurant, and you didn’t plan on telling Harry tonight, but you trusted him to let go of all the agony that you bottled up inside your mind. 

“Hey, come here,” he said, opening his arms up. You gladly rested your head against his shoulders, wishing the middle console wasn’t there so you could press your body against his. He hands rubbed your back just as it did when you first hugged him, and to say that you hadn’t been craving for his touch was a complete lie. “You’re not stupid whatsoever. I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make you stupid. It makes them stupid for betraying your trust and forgiveness over and over again. You’re not in the wrong here nor was it your fault, love.” 

You nodded against his shoulder, and you felt him place the side of his face against the top of your head, cuddling up to you, which immediately put a smile on your face. Harry’s comfort had immediately made you feel better—it made you feel safe. You hadn’t felt so comfortable in someone else’s arms in a very long time, and considering that you’ve only known him for a month, you’d say it’s quite unbelievable how comfortable you are in his hold, especially opening up to him like you did. 

Pulling back from his hold, you looked up at him, giving him a smile. The weight on your shoulders suddenly felt lighter once you opened the bottle and poured out the contents in it. Talking to Harry was refreshing, a fresh breath of air, and you inhaled the crisp oxygen gratefully, knowing that being vulnerable and opening up had changed your friendship. 

It was Sunday evening, and you were cleaning up to prepare for closing. It had been a long day, even though you only worked for four hours; it just seemed that you were running around more than usual. 

But you were glad that the day was over, and you could take a long nice shower to end your night. Throughout cleaning, your coworkers had said goodbye, leaving through the back door, which you found odd because everyone usually heads out at the same time, but you didn’t think too much of it. 

Once you were done in the dining room, you looked around, finding the restaurant completely empty, but everything seemed to be in order, so you headed over to the locker room. 

When you rounded around the counter top and into the kitchen, Harry jumped up from his crouched position, startling you as you took a step back, gasping with your hand over your heart. 

“Holy shit, you scared me,” you said breathlessly. 

Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I thought you still knew I was here.” 

“I thought I was completely alone, and hiding behind the counter doesn’t help.” You and Harry laughed. You hadn’t noticed the two plates of food and wine glasses that were filled with sparkling soda sitting next to him on the stainless steel counter, and you wondered for a moment if that was for you and him. “What’s that for?” 

“For us, if you’d like. I made it quickly once everything was slow and we were starting to close,” he said shyly, rubbing his tattooed forearm. 

Your brows raised, eyes widening slightly. “You made this? For us?”

“Yeah. Today marks one month being here, so I decided to make dinner to celebrate.” You were quite speechless at the thought; it was so incredibly sweet and thoughtful that Harry went through that trouble of making a meal to celebrate a somewhat significant date. Tears started to well up in your eyes, making the man in front of you blurry. “Oh, wait, no. Please don’t cry. You could definitely take this to-go, if you want! I know you’re probably tired, but-”

Harry was cut off by your arms wrapping around his shoulders. He was taken back at first from the impact of your body crashing against his, but once he regained his balance, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. 

Your scent was impeccable—quite alluring for running around for a few hours. He knew he smelled like food, the smoke from garlic and onions sautéing, and vegetables cooking. He buried his head into your shoulder, holding you close. This had been the first time you two were ever hugging outside of the comfort and safety of his car—no middle console to interfere, no awkwardness in trying to figure out how to give a proper hug in a confined space. He enjoyed it a lot—the way your body was pressed up against his. It made him happy, it made him feel safe. 

The intimate moment lasted for a few minutes, simply just hugging one another in relief in the kitchen, swaying slightly as complete silence surrounded the two of you. 

Once you were satisfied (although you think you would never be satisfied enough if you’re not in his arms), you pulled away, coming face-to-face with him. Your cheeks were slightly damped from the few tears that had fallen out, but weirdly, it gave you a natural and happy glow, and you were feeling exactly that. 

“Harry, thank you so much. This is the sweetest and most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.” You looked up at him through your wet lashes, warmly smiling at him. 

“You’re welcome. Shall we eat?” You nodded, and he unwrapped his arms from around your waist, letting you go, which he wished he hadn’t. He grabbed the two heavy plates that were filled with honey garlic chicken with sautéed spinach and mushroom on a bed of rice, and you grabbed the glasses, reaching over to place them onto the countertop before the two of you walked around to sit on the high stools. 

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, and you thanked and complimented him for the lovely meal. There was light conversation, asking questions about each other’s childhood. Listening to Harry talk about his life in England was so fascinating to you, and you wished that you had grown up with him because he seemed like such a fun and kind kid to play with. You learned that his sister and mom were back home in London, and they visited every six months, and he would occasionally go back home as well, if the bills weren’t stacking up and he was good with money. His words and mind seemed to get the best of him, slipping out about how much they would love you and that he’ll invite you to lunch whenever they visit to meet them; and he hoped he didn’t freak you out. You simply blushed, nodding your head, and not saying anything else. 

The more you talked to him, the more you found yourself staring at him as you listened to what he had to say. You’d come to terms a few weeks ago that you really liked his eyes—how green they were, and how they stare into you, giving you his full attention. You liked his hands, his hair, his nose, his cheeks, and most of all, you liked his lips. You couldn’t blame alcohol for these thoughts because Harry replaced wine with sparkling soda, so these were completely sober thoughts racing your mind. His lips were something you glanced at often, trying not to glare at them too much as he talked as you didn’t want to get caught for admiring them. They were so pink, and he occasionally bit them and curled them into his mouth, making them pinker. You liked when he would take his fingers and pinch his bottom lip, a habit that he seemed to form throughout his life. You suddenly wanted to kiss him—really, really bad. 

You shook off the thought immediately, being completely sidetracked with your infatuation with Harry. Was it an infatuation? No, you knew the feelings you felt for him felt much stronger than a simple admiration for your coworker. 

Once the talking had died down and the plates were empty, you and Harry decided to clean up. You quickly took both of your plates, beating Harry to the sink to wash the dishes. He chuckled as he watched you fast walk towards the sink; he soon followed with the glasses, placing them carefully into the sink. He decided to dry the dishes, finding the dish rag on your right side. So, he leaned over, placing his left hand on your waist, chest slightly pressed against your back as he grabbed the rag. You turned your head to the right, dropping your shoulder to turn more of your body towards him. He was close and it made you feel flushed; you felt your  cheeks heating up once he looked down at you, faces inches away from each other. 

You turned back around, quickly placing the last dish on the counter before you turned off the water. Harry was still close in proximity, not making any effort to move away from you. Turning around, your back was now pressed up against the edge of the sink. Harry rested his hands against the edge, trapping you with his arms. Your breath began to deepen, heart beating quite harshly against your chest as Harry looked into your eyes, briefly glancing at your lips, and slowly trailing them back up into your eyes. He brought one hand to graze the side of your face gently, skin prickling with goosebumps. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented honestly. 

“Thank you, you are too.” 

“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Listen, I-I really like you, and we haven’t known each other for long but I just…can’t get enough of you,” You smiled, averting your eyes to his lips before looking back up; your cheeks and neck felt incredibly warm from his confession. Bodily, you placed your hands on his waist, pulling him towards you to close the gap between you two; Harry smirked at your action, liking the way your bodies were pressed up against each other. 

“Are you gonna do anything about it?” You raised your brows curiously. 

“What would you like me to do?” His hands were rubbing up and down your back soothingly. 

“Hmm…a few things actually,” you muttered—more to yourself but Harry definitely heard from how close you two physically were. Your fingertips were mindlessly drawing circles on his lower back where his slightly wrinkled white shirt was tucked into his black jeans. 

“Care to share?” 

You took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes that captivated you quite clearly. “Want you to kiss me.” 

The corner of his lip turned up as he curled his lips into his mouth. “Can I please? Been wanting to for so long.” 

“Tell me.” Harry raised his brows. “Tell me how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me.” 

He curled his lips into his mouth, looking down at your soft lips before back up at your eyes. “Ever since I saw you for the first time. So, please let me kiss you. Do you want me to?” 

Harry quite literally took your breath away, breath stuck in your throat before you cleared it. Nodding your head quite eagerly, you softly said, “Yeah, want you to.” 

With that, he trailed his hands from your waist, up your spine, to your shoulders, and up to your face where he placed his hands on both sides, gently holding your face delicately as if it were a piece of art that was crafted for months, years; he didn’t want to drop or break the precious masterpiece that he cradled with his hands. 

His thumb caressed your soft cheek, giving your lips one last look before he leaned in and connected your lips with his. You sighed deeply once you felt his soft lips touch yours, and your shoulder visibly relaxed, letting go of everyone that may have held you back. 

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him in closer. A spark ran through your body as your lips molded together so perfectly in sync, making the firework inside of you pop into a beautiful and magical scene. 

Whimpering against his mouth, you suddenly wanted more of him; he was, in all ways, addicting. You unconsciously lifted your right leg, bringing it up to his hip, making Harry press himself against your core, holding your thigh. He started to feel himself harden inside of his pants from the way you’re kissing him, the way your hands gripped his hair, and the way your tongue effortlessly swiveled against his. 

You pulled away from his lips quite breathlessly, lips swollen. “Want you.” 

“Me too—want you so bad.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, and once he did, you pulled away, only leaving him with a small kiss to his lips. Harry pouted, making you chuckle. 

“That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” you confessed. 

Harry smirked. “Well, I’ll be glad to do it again.” 

“Wanna get out of here? C-Can we go to yours?” You asked shyly. 

“Yeah?” You nodded. “You sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

Harry gave you a smile and another kiss before he backed away, grabbing your hand to lead you to the locker room where the two of you grabbed your belongings from your lockers. Quickly after, you two were out the door of Spring; Harry locked up, and walked you two over to his car where he, yet again, opened the passenger door for you. 

The entire ten minute drive to his apartment, his hand never left yours. It delicately sat on your thigh with your hand on top of his, palm against the back of his hand as your fingers intertwined with his. Harry found it difficult to drive properly because all he ever wanted to do was either kiss you or look at you, and since it was just a bit after midnight, he hit all the green lights, so there was continuous driving and less kissing and looking. But that just made it quicker for him to get to his place. 

His apartment was on the second floor, which didn’t take long to get to, but catching up to Harry’s long strides as he practically dragged you up the stairs—no patience to wait for the elevator—was tiring you out. 

Once his front door closed, he immediately pushed you up against it, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you feverishly. You practically could feel him smiling into the kiss, happy to have his lips on yours, and it completely tied your stomach into knots as the familiar flutter you felt in your chest made itself present. 

You’d come to realize, in the kitchen, that kissing Harry was everything you ever imagined. His soft lips molding and connecting with yours so perfectly made all of your dreams and realities come true. He just had a way with how he worked his lips as well as where to put his hands. But you were eager to find out what else he could do. 

Harry was the one to pull away first, which he even surprised himself with, but he led you to his bedroom, which you were too excited about. He closed his bedroom door, taking your lips in with his again, backing you up against his bed as he gently placed you on top of it, hovering over you. 

His lips trailed to your cheek, your jaw, and down to your neck where he lightly nibbled and sucked on your soft skin. You felt him lick your skin, soothing out the small love bite that he left on your skin before he pulled his head from your neck. 

“You sure you want to do this? I’d be happy just kissing you.” 

You smiled. “I’m sure, wanna touch you. You’re sure too?” You asked consent from him as well, making his cock twitch in his pants. 

“Very sure, love. You have no idea.” He sat on his knees as you laid below him, and he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so beautiful as you do; he was completely enthralled by your beauty. “Can I take this off?” He referred to your shirt, playing with the buttons on the front. You nodded, biting your lip. 

He leaned his weight on one side of you, placing one arm behind your head as you rested against it. He took your mouth in with his as his other hand began unbuttoning your white shirt, impressively with one hand. Once he got to the bottom, he sat up again, as did you to take off your shirt and your sports bra. You didn’t wear anything sexy to work because you wanted to be comfortable while waiting tables. 

Harry looked at your bare torso, licking his lips before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking the pebbled bud before switching to the other. His lips then placed small kisses down your body and to the hem of your pants, where he looked up to see you flushed from just his kisses. 

“Harry…” you whined. 

“What is it, beautiful?” He smirked. 

“Please, take it off.” 

“I’m getting there, love, don’t worry.” A breathy chuckle came out of his mouth before he unbuttoned your trousers. Your hips raised off the bed, and he swiftly took them off, leaving you in your nude seamless underwear. “Fuck, you’re so stunning, Y/N, I swear.” You looked at him and smiled; you were clearly at loss for words because of how Harry was looking at you. He wasn’t looking at you with complete admiration, like he was so lost in his daze of his sight. And that thought made you even more aroused. 

He gave you another kiss to your stomach before taking off your underwear, situating himself in between your legs, lying on his stomach. Harry looked up once more to find you staring at him, eager to watch what he’s about to do; he placed a kiss to your inner thighs, gently nibbling on your flesh, making you squirm. 

“Harry, please. Need to feel you,” you pleaded, brows crinkling. 

“Tell me what you need,” he teased, earning an impatient scoff from you, but Harry chuckled at your frustration. 

“Need your mouth on me. Please, want you to eat me out already.” 

Now, who was he to deny that request? So, that’s what he did—he slowly licked your clit multiple times before licking into your hole, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He used your wetness to lubricate your clit, completely assaulting your sensitive bud. Your back arched as the sensations ran through your body, hands gripping the sheets below you tightly that they practically wrinkled. Harry moaned against your clit, making you buck your hips into his face. 

“Fuck, Harry…” you dragged out, throwing your head back into the pillows. 

For a few minutes, Harry continued devouring your taste, not stopping until you came all over his mouth and you were completely shocked by his will to not stop until you’ve had your orgasm from his tongue. 

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, slowly entering your wet hole as he fingered you. You moaned louder; the tips of his fingers curling up to meet the softness of your upper walls. His unoccupied thumb rubbed your clit in slow circles, something that he noticed you really liked based on your hips thrusting upwards and your hand gripping his hair harder that it felt like you were going to rip out his locks. 

“So pretty, love. So wet for me.” The simplicity of his words had made you feel the familiar bubble in your lower stomach, and you wanted to release it so bad. 

“Harry, I’m gonna…cum,” you groaned out, biting your lips. 

He continued his pace on your clit, but added a tad bit more pressure, causing you to jolt a little. His fingers that were inside of you repeatedly brushed your g-spot, making you close your legs, but Harry pried them open, encouraging you to release. 

“C’mon, baby. Want you—need you to cum for me. Can you do that? Can you give me what I want?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, mouth ajar as your voice was hitched in your throat. A few more thrust and rubs from his fingers, and you hit your high, releasing around his long fingers as he slowed his movements, riding out your orgasm while praising you for your peak. 

“That’s it. There you go.” One of his hands rubbed your stomach, calming you down while the other hand gently played and cupped your pussy as you unconsciously and slightly thrusted your hips into his hand. 

Once you had relaxed, you opened your eyes; Harry was kissing up your body before he kissed your lips so sweetly. 

“Hmm, you’re so good at that.” He smiled, kissing your neck as he started to rut his hips on your thigh. You felt his hard on through his pants, and you knew that wasn’t comfortable whatsoever. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked. He pulled his head from your neck, facing you as he was about to say it was completely fine if you didn’t, but you spoke up first. “That can’t be comfortable, and I wanna touch you—if you’d let me.” You were looking at him with innocent eyes, even though he knew what you were about to do was going against anything innocent. Plus, the way you were looking at him only made him more aroused.

“Course, let me just get out of these.” He got off the bed, but stayed closed; he was about to unbutton his shirt, but you stopped him quickly, replacing his hands with yours. Harry dropped his arms to his side once your lips were attached to his neck, giving him a small hickey on the underside of his jaw. The feel of just your lips on his skin made him bite his lips as a chill ran through him. You sat on your knees and started unbuttoning his white shirt, and with every button you undid, you gave him a kiss to every bit of his skin that was left exposed until you reached the hem of his pants. 

You looked up at him on all fours, and he watched you press another kiss to his tattooed torso. “Mind if I take these off?” You toyed with the hem of his pants. 

“No, please, don’t mind at all.” You smiled, looking back at his bulge, which outlined through the fabric of his pants. You palmed him, making him hiss through his teeth. He hadn’t felt another person’s touch in so long, so your lips and touch felt overwhelming in the best way. 

You unbuttoned his pants, which he was fast to get out of, leaving him in his black briefs. You positioned yourself to lay flat on your stomach, thankful that Harry’s bed was the perfect height to where you don’t have to strain your neck to suck on him. Kissing down his happy trail, you left a prominent love bite in between his tattooed leaves that were so perfectly inked on his lower abdomen. You then kissed his hard length through his briefs, making Harry breathe heavily. He’s never felt so teased in his life, but you were making it all worth it because nobody had ever made him feel so aroused. 

Finally, your fingers gripped the hem of his briefs and tugged them down so his cock could departure from the strained material. He was big, and you knew that from when he was driving to his place earlier as his cock was pushing against his pants, making you excited and eager. But seeing it right in front of you made you salivate. 

“Holy shit, you’re so big.” All he did was smirk at your words, knowing that fact quite clearly. You grabbed a hold of him as you held his dick upwards before you licked the underside from base to tip. Harry breathed in through his nose once he felt the smallest bit of contact from your mouth. 

Your mouth began to work on his tip, sucking and licking up the precum that had spilled out of his tip before you started to take more and more of him in your mouth. It was Harry’s turn to fill the room with his raspy and deep moan, and the noise he was making was triggering your arousal. Harry had a full view of your mouth on him as well as a great view of your entire backside, not missing the way he noticed how you started to subtly move your hips into the sheets. 

As you sucked on him, taking him further into your mouth, Harry dragged his fingers from your shoulders, down your spine, and to your ass that was out in the open with no shame whatsoever. His hands kneaded your flesh before slapping on cheek, which made you moan around him. 

“Like that?” He went back to his standing position, leaning back a tad bit to get a good look at you. “Tell me, do you like that?” You looked up at him, making direct eye contact with him as your cheeks hollowed and you sucked hard around him before letting out a ‘mhm.’ Your mouth was working wonders on him while your hand was fondling and playing with his balls, making him throw his head back and accidentally bucking his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, sorry, baby.” He moved your hair to check up on you, but all you did was place your hands on his ass and pulled him towards you until your nose touched his pubic bone. Harry let out a throaty moan, and your hands pushed and pulled his lower body until he understood what you were doing. 

So, he took control, holding your head steady before he slowly started to thrust into your mouth; the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. There was a string of spit that was dangling from your mouth and connecting to his balls—a sight so filthy but helped him get right on the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum. Love your mouth so much. So beautiful for me, so perfect.” Harry’s hips began to jerk sloppily, indicating that he was close. With just a few more thrusts into your perfect mouth, he spilled down your throat as he stopped thrusting, keeping you halfway on him. A series of curses and your name came from his lips as he shut his eyes. You took every drop that he offered, trying to swallow every bit of content as best as you could, but some of it had spilled out of your mouth due to how much he overfilled your mouth with his cum. 

Harry seemed to be in the middle of calming down from his intense orgasm, so you took the time to clean up. Pulling back, you wiped your mouth and licked your fingers as well as cleaning his cock with your mouth. What you didn’t notice was that Harry was watching you the entire time; he lowered his head, neck straining from looking up too much, and saw you eagerly cleaning and licking every last drop that had fallen from your pretty lips. The sight was enough to make him hard again if he wasn’t too spent. 

He collapsed on his bed next to you, his head was next to your ass, to which he pressed a small kiss to your hip in gratitude. You moved to lay your head on his stomach, looking at him and giving him a small smile. 

“Come here. What are you looking at me like that for?” He reached out for you, and you moved again, resting your elbow next to his head before giving him a kiss. The kiss didn’t deepen any further, just molding your lips with one another as he tasted himself on your tongue. 

“Nothing. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself.” 

“Very much did, thank you. Did you? You could be honest with me.” 

You giggled. “Honestly…I had a really great time. You made me feel really good. The best I’ve felt in a really long time,” you told him honestly, and Harry smiled at that. 

“Do you want to stay the night? I’m always in a cuddly mood after anything sexual—well, I’m always in a cuddly mood, period.” You laughed, nodding your head before kissing his cheek. 

“I’d love to. Can I use your restroom, and do you have a spare toothbrush?” 

Harry nodded, getting off the bed before leading you to his bathroom where he gave you a toothbrush and some of his face wash. He left you to do your business and told you that he would have a change of clothes. 

Once you were done, you walked out of his bathroom, still naked, and was met with Harry in a pair of gray briefs and a change of his clothes in his hands, handing them to you. He gave you a kiss to your forehead before going off to the bathroom and leaving you to change. 

You replayed the evening in your mind over and over again as you changed—you really enjoyed his company and him as a person. Harry was a more than nice guy, who seemed to like you for whatever reason, and you liked him too. Maybe a bit too much, and you felt like you liked him more than you projected—dare, you say that you were falling in love. But you couldn’t let yourself feel that way; you were beating yourself up for it. In all honesty, you were scared, so you had a habit of not portraying the entirety of your feelings out on the table so people could perceive it. 

Your mind was racing with so many thoughts in your head, repeating and spitting out every insecurity that your previous ‘friends’ had told you in the past—calling you a slut and how you couldn’t keep anyone around because they both ended up cheating on you. Your head was telling you Harry would do the same, and as hard as you were trying to deny that because Harry was the kindest person you’ve ever met, it was all you could hear. You couldn’t do this, no, you couldn’t feel like this, you thought. You felt like you needed to protect yourself before you were in too deep. 

Without even knowing, you were frantically grabbing your clothes and shoes that were all thrown across Harry’s floor. Your heart was racing, mind telling you to ‘leave’ and that ‘nobody is going to love you,’ so that’s what you were doing, leaving. 

You made it out of his bedroom, so close to the front door until you realized you had forgotten your purse. Turning around to go back, you were met with Harry leaning against the frame of the hallway entry, holding your purse in his hands. 

“Not planning on saying goodbye?” His voice sounded defeated, the complete opposite as to what it was prior. He looked down at his feet, not even able to make eye contact with you when he was always keen on making direct eye contact when talking to someone, but seeing you walk out his bedroom door when you were supposed to be waiting for him in his bed to cuddle was heartbreaking. 

“Harry…”

“That’s all it was to you, I’m guessing? You know you could’ve said no to staying the night, I would’ve understood. But to say yes after we’ve been intimate, and getting my hopes up? I-I thought you liked me, that’s all, and I’m stupid for falling for it,” he ended with a scoff. He felt extremely vulnerable; he laid his feelings out on the table, let you see his body, and it seemed like you just picked and chose your cards straight from the deck to only have Harry fold. 

“No, that’s not it-”

“Then please tell me what it is before I drive myself into the wall thinking what I’ve done wrong!” He raised his voice—not too loud where it startled you, but enough to where he simply let out his frustrations. 

“I like you, Harry, I do. But we can’t be together.” You didn’t know how to put it into words, so that was the best you could come up with. 

“And why’s that?” He furrowed his brows, walking towards you, but keeping a safe distance. “Give me a good reason why, and I’ll let you go—I’ll leave you alone. We’ll simply be coworkers who don’t talk to each other. I’ll-”

“I’m scared, okay! I’m scared because I cannot fall in love with you, even though I’m already in too deep. I’ve done it once and i-it hurt me.” You were on the verge of bawling, maintaining your emotions. “I-I cannot feel this way so soon—fresh out of a relationship…I’ve only known you for, what? A month? We barely even know each other, Harry-”

“See, now, that’s where you’re wrong. You think I don’t know you, but I bet that you know I know you quite well. Probably more than all of your bitchy friends back home who you’ve known for years.” You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond, but he was right, he did know you better than anyone you knew back in SF. “If I didn’t know you then I wouldn’t know that your favorite thing to eat while you were growing up was chocolate croissants. Your favorite color often switches every few days, but some of them are, and specifically: maroon, evergreen, mustard yellow, burnt orange, and beige. You love watching kids cooking competitions in your free time and often root for the one who is doing miserably and knows who won’t make it to the next round. You’re learning how to bake, which is what you said that you’ve always wanted to learn out to make proper pastries, and based on what you bring to work for us to try, you’re on the right path to being a baker.” 

“I’m…” you were at a loss for words, tears lining your eyes. All of the questions and playful conversation you and Harry had during work had come around in his words; it showed that Harry really listened, and when he did, he didn’t forget every detail you’ve told him. Your heart felt like it was in your stomach, making your stomach flutter in giddiness and shock. 

“I could go on, honestly, but it would be an entire list of things that I’ve remembered about you.” Harry softly smiled down at his feet. “All I’m saying is this: I like to think I know the basics of you, and I still have a lot to learn about you. But don’t run away from me, please. If you want to and you don’t want anything to do with me, that’s fine, but I can’t let you walk out without trying not to stop you.” He sighed, completely putting himself out there as he was practically begging you to stay. “I really like you, Y/N, I mean it. I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for a month. I don’t care that you just got out of a relationship. I mean if you’re still in love with him or have a bit of interest in him still, then that’s different-”

“I don’t,” you interrupted, shaking your head no. It was the truth; you hadn’t felt love for your ex in a really long time, and you simply stayed with him and kept forgiving him just because it was comfortable. 

“Okay…” 

“It’s just…I don’t want people to think I’m some kind of person who moves on from relationships so quickly. I-I mean, I didn’t come here just to find myself in another relationship, y’know?” Your tone was concerning, like all of your worries were piling up into one big stack that made your head hurt from thinking too much. 

“No one’s gonna think that—I don’t think that. Besides, it isn’t any of their business.” Harry walked even closer to you, inches away as his hands grazed your upper arms. “Let me ask you something, does this feel right? Being with me?” You nodded with no hesitation. “Say it,” he instructed, wanting to hear the words come out of your mouth. 

“This feels right.” 

Harry smiled at you comfortingly. “Okay, then let it be right.” 

“I’m scared,” you admitted, looking down. He lifted your chin up with the soft touch of his fingertips, goosebumps littered your skin with just his simple touch. 

“Me too, but I’m doing surprisingly well at hiding it. We’ll go slow, okay? No pressure into labeling; let’s just go with the flow, alright?” He suggested, and you softly muttered an ‘okay,’ reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him a warm and grateful hug. 

“I’m so sorry-” you said into his shoulder, but he quickly cut you off. 

“No need to be sorry, I understand.” His understanding makes you even more soft as you hugged him tighter; a few tears slipped your eyes, streaming down Harry’s shoulder. 

After a moment, the two of you pulled away, feeling so much relief from the hug and conversation. 

“Is your offer on staying the night still up?” You asked hesitantly.

He smiled. “Yeah, it always is. C’mon.” He took you by the hand, leading you to his room and into his bed—not for the actions of pleasure, but for a nice and comforting cuddle. 

You situated yourself on his chest, comfortably trailing your fingers up and down his skin as his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. 

Lifting your head up to meet his face, he smiled at you before you gave him a sweet kiss to his lips. It didn’t lead to anything, it didn’t even deepen; just the feel of his soft, pink lips on yours was enough to make you feel bliss. 

You pulled away. “Slow?” Harry chuckled, nodding his head. 

“Slow.” 

Your face warmed up as you smiled, cheeks aching; you positioned yourself back onto his chest for the night, taking up all of his space on the bed when your side was completely empty as you held him close. Even though you’ve only known him for a month, you felt yourself falling; because ultimately, it felt right. 

please come into my inbox and tell me your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3

[huntergatherercreator]

Hello :) I was wondering if I could make a not so interesting request and I hope you don't mind 😅 So, like reader has kids with mob Tom Holland and you can decide the genders and number of kids they have and stuff and how would the whole family react to one of reader's friends constantly pursuing reader's love and when reader tells them that she's married and has kids, the lil shit is like "It's all right, just divorce them'' I have a feeling no one will be taking this lightly.....

Hey! I LOVED this idea!! I did switch it up to a co-worker because that's the first thing I thought of when I read this but I can definitely see him grudgingly having to put up with a childhood friend who just won't quit trying to make the reader see how in love with them they are. I feel like I need to write that too now....

Hope you're having a great day, take care and stay safe lovey 💜💜

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Warnings: Some swearing, and super sleaze ball energy

1,389 words

“It’s just drinks,” you laughed as Tom buried his face into your neck with a sigh. You focused on the mirror, touching up your hair and smoothing over your outfit. It was just drinks but it was with your new work team. You’d all only met last week and you’d suggested a night out as a team building exercise. Nothing broke the new job nerves better than alcohol and bad karaoke.

Tweaking his curls you smiled as Tom reluctantly met your gaze in the mirror.

“You say that, but you’re not the one being left with the terrible two,” he grumbled.

You turned to cup his face, laughing at his small pout and chocolate puppy dog eyes.

“Is my big bad mob boss afraid of a couple teenagers?” you teased.

“I’m not afraid of them,” he growled. “I just don’t understand them. All I get are grunts and sighs from Thomas and with Katelyn its like she speaks a different language all together.” Hands wrapping around your waist he pulled you tight against him.

“Plus, you look too stunning to be let out without a chaperone. I think I need to come with you.” His hands wandered to your backside, fingers creeping down to lift the hem of your dress. “Or, you could stay home,” he purred seductively as he gripped the bare skin of your thighs.

As much as you didn’t want to you wriggled out of his grip. “We’ll have plenty of time for that when I get home.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he winked.

A horn blared from outside and you cursed, you didn’t want to be late. Tom deftly swept you into your jacket and handed you your purse.

“Have a good time, darling,” he said as you kissed him on the cheek quickly. With an appalled huff, he reeled you in for a proper kiss, holding you captive until the taxi beeped their horn again.

“I won’t be late. Have fun,” you called over your shoulder as you hurried out the front door.

----

The bar was packed already and you were struggling to find your table when a heavy hand landed on the small of your back.

“It’s Y/N right?” Relieved you found yourself staring up at one of your new co-workers. Your brain faltered for a second before finding his name.

“Max?” He smiled in a cocky overconfident way before leaning in closer.

“You can call me whatever you like, sweetheart.” You grimaced a smile, subtly inching back from him as the stench of his cologne clouded around you.

“Where’s the team table?” you asked, pointedly turning away and scanning the room again.

“It’s in the back corner.” When you moved in the direction he’d indicated he caught your arm. “The table service is pretty slow, if you want a drink we can get one from the bar.”

“I’m happy to wait. I’m going to go re-introduce myself to everyone.” Breaking out of his hold you strode to the table, the prickling feeling of being watched crawling over you until you were swept into the embrace of your favourite work friend.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I was talking about our last project and this one here,” she hooked a thumb at one of the young interns, “doesn’t believe we wrote the whole presentation ourselves after tequila shots.”

You laughed at the memory. When it came to work you took it seriously, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have been promoted to executive and leading this new team. However, that didn’t mean you didn’t know how to have some fun.

You fell into an easy conversation with them both and others of the party drifted over sporadically to shake your hand and introduce themselves a bit more.

“We’ve already met but I’ll take five minutes with you over everyone else.” A voice said at your ear. You already knew from the overpowering smell of cologne it was Max. Now it was mixed with a strong dose of rum and turned your stomach. He lounged against the table in front of you.

“Tell me, who did you have to sleep with to get this job? And is there a sign up sheet?” he winked. Your skin crawled. Tight lipped you judged whether you could justify wasting a perfectly good drink by dumping it over his head. You cast a critical eye over him. As much as he was dressed like a man of business his suit was clearly off the rack. It was too small in the shoulders and had a slight polyester sheen to it. He could pretend all he liked but he hadn’t worked on a team this high up before. If he had he’d be better dressed.

“That’s funny, I was just about to ask how much your daddy had to spent to get you on the team.” His eyes flashed dangerously then he slowly grinned.

“You’re feisty. I like that.” His gaze shamelessly travelled over you. You refused to cross your arms over your chest under his lecherous stare. You’d dealt with worse, you reminded yourself.

“I need another drink.” You told him bluntly and walked off towards the bar. You reluctantly tamped down the urge to fire him. This was outside of business hours, you’d deal with it on Monday morning you told yourself. You just had to get through the rest of the night first.

You’d just reached the bar when his hand gripped at your waist and his fetid breath washed over your neck.

“Keep running away, I like a challenge. It’ll only make it sweeter when I have you writhing under-”

Spinning you shoved him away.

“I’m happily married,” you snapped in disgust.

He only leered at you. “That’s what divorce is for, sweetheart.” Your fingers tightened on your glass as you readied to throw the contents of it at him.

“Get your sleazy hands away from my mum!” You blinked in surprise as Katelyn elbowed her way through the crowd to jab a finger in Max’s face. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, you piece of shit.”

“Katelyn.” you tried to scold her but the weight of it was lost as you laughed.

“You heard her.” Tom’s voice was dangerously low as he stalked to stand beside you. “If you so much as breath in the direction of my wife again it’ll be the last time you do anything.” A cocky smile covered Max’s face until Thomas stopped behind him and dug his hands into his shoulders.

“You heard my dad. If you have any common sense you won’t mess with us.”

Max snorted, “You think I’m scared of you? I could steal your wife any day-”

“Mr Holland, I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” The flustered manager of the bar accompanied by two security guards faltered as he took in the scene. “Is there an issue here?”

“There is, this idiot is threatening me,” Max sneered.

The manager didn’t divert his attention away from Tom for a second.

“This man’s been harassing my wife, could you escort him out Eddie?” Tom asked the closest guard.

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Boss?” Max scoffed. “What did you do? Pay them off? How pathetic.”

“I called him boss because he owns the place.” Eddie scowled, grabbing a fistful of Max’s suit jacket. Mouth gaping his beady eyes flickered between you and Tom.

“Fuck,” he swore as the pin finally dropped. You were surprised it had taken him this long to work it out. There weren’t many Holland’s in town after all.

“In case it isn’t perfectly clear, you’re fired.” you snapped. You watched him get dragged away, the crowd parting like the sea to avoid him.

“What are you all doing here?” you asked as Katelyn wrapped you in a hug from behind.

“Eddie called dad,” Thomas said, as if it was obvious.

“You had him watching me?”

“I always have someone watching you. I need to know you’re safe when I’m not with you.” Pulling you into his arms he captured your mouth, hand possessively winding around the nape of your neck as he kissed you deeply.

“Ew!” Katelyn complained just as Thomas said, “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

Laughing you pulled back to swat playfully at them both.

“You just made sure I’m forever stuck with your dad, get used to it,” you smiled.