#you can tell when I wrote something on my phone because the speech marks are different

[mydarlingdearestdead]

Hyacinth rose with a feline poise, inching toward the balcony's open doors.

'Where are you going?' Apollo did not open his eyes, nor did he raise his voice above a whisper.

Having sought only release from the god, Hyacinth sighed, 'Balcony.'

Not an untruth, he knew Apollo would note, yet still not honest.

Apollo hummed, 'If you wish for privacy, you must only request it.' He informed Hyacinth mildly, heavy gold lashes falling upon his eyelids.

'I... I didn't say that.'

'Didn't you?' Now, Hyacinth felt how Apollo's golden eye pinned him where he stood. As if truth held him where he stood, under duress and with a heart willing to race to Troy and back.

Hyacinth blinked, 'No... I don't believe I did.'

With a melodic lint to his voice, Apollo advised in return, 'Lying to gods may not be a wise move, my dear... But I do not wish you to see me as a god first and foremost.' His eyes fluttered closed, 'I believe Eros is expecting my company this afternoon. Would my absence trouble you?' A moment of silence passed, punctured by Hyacinth's hesitant footsteps.

'Yes.' Apollo spoke only to the painted figures and their wandering gazes, 'I thought as much.'

Masterlist

[mysterious-ocarina]

Command Me

Toge Inumaki x reader

A/N when I wrote this, I had only seen the show, haven't had the time to watch the movie, and have not read the manga so i'm sorry if it's not very good. I was just bored and i love him so much

Main Masterlist JJK Masterlist Requests AO3

(1.5k words)

“And these will be the idiots I was telling you about,” Maki pointed at a group of guys hanging out under a tree. You were new to the school and she was showing you around.

“We’re not idiots,” the one with pink hair replied indignantly. “I’m Itadori.”

“The vessel,” Maki told you. She told you about all of her friends so you would be prepared in advance for the weirdness you would encounter.

“I’m y/n,” you offered a small wave.

“And that’s Fushiguro,” Maki pointed to the guy next to Itadori, “The giant panda is Panda and the one with the collar is Inumake.”

You let your eyes slip from each person she introduced you to until your eyes landed on Inumaki.

He was a shorter guy from what you could tell with him on the ground. He had his legs stretched in front of him and was leaning back on his hands. Upon making eye contact, you noticed how striking his eyes were, a dazzling shade of lavender.

“Kelp,” he said with a little wave.

Confused, you repeated, “Kelp?”

Panda spoke up from his spot, not surprising you that he talked because Maki had already informed you, “He can only speak in rice ball ingredients so he doesn’t hurt anyone with his cursed speech.”

“That’s interesting. Is that hard to communicate with?” you asked Inumaki, curiously.

Usually he would be kind of embarrassed or offended by being asked that, but with the way your eyes shone with genuine curiosity without any trace of malice, he responded, “Salmon.”

You were about to open your mouth to ask what that meant before you watched him pull out his phone as well as a stack of post-it notes with a pen.

“Texting is the best thing to happen for cursed speech users,” Itadori joked.

Embarrassed, you dropped your head, “I didn’t think of that.”

You watched as Inumaki wrote something on the note before passing it to you. In the neatest handwriting you have ever seen was a series of digits with his name, Toge Inumaki, at the top.

You gave him a joyful smile before thanking him, “Perfect, I’ll text you right now so you have my number too.”

And you have been a goner ever since then. Meeting everyone was probably the best thing that happened to you since becoming a jujutsu sorcerer. Every day was filled with laughter and camaraderie and the occasional blush.

Ever since meeting Inumaki, you have been besotted with him. It wouldn’t take you long to understand his rice ball language, it also wouldn’t take you long to fall in love with it. You found out how sweet and funny he is as well as how strong and level-headed he was in a fight.

You guys always sparred together, making Panda slightly jealous but giving him cuddles always makes him forgive you.

The few missions you went on together, you got to see his cursed speech in action. It was a chilling sight to see him yell “Explode” at a curse and watch as it. . . explodes, then hear him say “bonito flakes” to you right after.

You were broken out of your thoughts when a light blue note was waved in front of your face. Right, you were watching a movie with Inumaki before your thoughts wandered to the boy. Your wandering thoughts seemed to happen the more and more you hung out with him.

You softly grabbed the note, reading the familiar neat handwriting.

What’s on your mind? There was a little doodle of a thought bubble with a question mark in the middle.

Something endearing you would find out about him, was the amount of doodles he would draw you. You weren’t sure if he did this for anyone else, but you liked to pretend that they were just for you. They always made you smile and you secretly kept the notes he gave you in a box, under your bed.

“Nothing’s on my mind,” you gave him a reassuring smile and placed your hand on his arm as confort. His ears turned red looking at you, before he started to write again.

Passing you the note, I can tell when you’re lying. He pointed at the first note he gave you that was sitting in your lap, seemingly asking the question again.

“I’m just having guy problems, nothing important,” you waved off. You would not admit that you were thinking about how much you liked him.

Inumaki scrawled quickly. If you didn’t know any better, he looked jealous, or maybe sad.

Who is he? This note was urgently shoved in your face. You guys talked about everything so he was probably surprised you kept this a secret.

“I am not telling you about my little crush, I’m sure it will go away soon,” you lied. Nothing about the feelings you had for Inumaki would ever go away. And from the look he gave you, he could tell you were lying and knew your feelings for the guy were more serious than that.

As long as he didn’t know it was him though, you were fine. You didn’t want to ruin the friendship and partnership that you guys had developed. You thought that he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings and then it would just make the group dynamic weird.

“Spicy cod roe,” Inumaki waved in your face, urging you to explain.

“I can’t tell you. It’s embarrassing,” you replied, hoping he would leave it at that. But when did he ever let you off the hook.

You watched as he made another short note, handed it to you, then made the cutest puppy eyes you had ever seen. The note read, pleeeeeeeeeeease

“Fine. Your stupid begging puppy eyes might as well count as cursed speech with how well they work on me,” you sighed. Inumaki laughed at your joke, making you smile and blush at the sound, before giving you his fullest attention.

“I’m not telling you who it is-” a dramatic eye roll and a huff from him, “-but I’ll give you hints.”

He nodded his head vigorously, excited for what you had to say to him.

“He’s short, he goes here, you know him, and he’s the cutest and most handsome guy I’ve ever seen,” you told him. You were blushing so hard under his gaze you thought you might faint.

There was something in his eyes that made you pause. He looked jealous and the confused glare he was giving the wall behind you had you rethinking yourself.

“I’ll tell you one last thing, but you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you whispered. He nodded again.

You were so beyond nervous, you felt sick to your stomach. You couldn’t get the words out. You opened your mouth several times, trying to push the words off your tongue but it felt like something was stopping you.

“I need you to do it,” you whispered. “I can’t do it on my own.”

Inumaki gave you a confused look, not understanding what you meant. You didn't blame him, there was no way he could guess what you wanted him to do.

You didn’t have the courage to say anything else, feeling like your tongue was numb.

You brought your hand to the zipper of his collar. He gave you a surprised look and grabbed your hands, stopping your motion. You simply stared into his eyes, hoping he would understand.

At your pleading look, he slowly moved your hand and pulled the zipper down with you. You have seen his mouth and tattoo before but that was always under the heat of battle. This felt different, it felt vulnerable.

Instinctively, you licked your lips. You watched as Inumaki tracked the motion before bringing his gaze back to yours. He gave you a questioning look as if to ask, are you sure? Which you nodded.

“Tell me.” He commanded, voice smooth as honey. You felt as your mouth moved without your control, “You.”

The word barely made its way out of your mouth before you felt chapped lips on yours. The kiss was heated, as if you both were relieving tension that had been there since the dawn of time. This was a kiss that screamed I love you. You could just barely taste the cherry cough medicine he always drank, before the kiss ended all too soon.

You both pulled back to gain your breaths. The smile that was painted on Inumaki’s face was so beautiful, you kissed him again, softer.

You placed a short kiss on his lips, then pecked each side of his tattoo, then his nose.

The look he gave you was pure adoration. He smoothed your hair then held your face, “Salmon.”

You giggled, “God, we should try that in the bedroom. It was exhilarating!”

He blushed a dark shade of crimson, “Kiss me.”

You leaned forward before you even processed what he said. This kiss wasn’t as heated and passionate as the first one. It was soft and comforting.

You both giggled together, excited for what may come. 

[sarahowritesostucky]

This is only marked with community lables: mature because it was posted back in the days when that staff troll was harassing me, flagging all my gen posts as explicit just to be an asshole.

📖It Started with Helga the Lunch Lady

Rated T

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Tags: Dom/sub au, sub Steve, subdrop, humor, Sam Wilson is a good bro

Summary: After a slight collapse at work, Steve is forced to admit his status as a high needs submissive.

"So."

"So."

"SO, I'm gonna assume you lied on your paperwork," Sam says, asking and yet somehow stating at the same time. He's looking at Steve from across the shiny top of the conference table with his big googly eyes - his "don't bullshit me" eyes - and Steve's plans to lie through his teeth dissolve into dust and float away.

"Yeah," he mumbles, unhappy about having to fess up. But it's pretty obvious at this point, since he's just come from the mess - where he'd collapsed.

All the lunch lady had to do was tell him a little too authoritatively that she wanted to see him "be a good boy and clean [his] plate today," and the next thing Steve knows, Sam's scraping him off the floor and walking him to the nearest vacant room, dumping him into a conference chair and complaining about how heavy he is.

"It's not a problem," Steve hurries to say, though his speech is still noticeably clumsy from the lunchroom incident.

Sam scowls. "Rogers, just, I mean - well look at yourself!"

What used to be a tuna sandwich is smeared down the front of Steve's shirt and the crotch of his pants, like damning evidence, a metaphor for his shitty and unfulfilling dating life. Steve frowns down at it, feeling miserable. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I did. Lie."

"Uh-huh."

"I didn't think I'd get the job if I- "

"YOU wrote down that you were a one," Sam interrupts harshly. "That's what you said when I interviewed your ass." He folds his arms across his chest, eyes flicking up and down disdainfully at Steve's ruined clothes. "And over my dead Titi's grave are you a one. So, what level are you?"

Steve winces. "It's really not that big of a d- "

"What. level?"

Steve's shoulders slump and he glumly admits, "... six."

Sam jerks away from the table with a 'what the fucking hell!' gesture.

"I'm sorry! okay?"

"What the fucking hell, Rogers?"

"I know, I know."

"You could get in big trouble for this, Steve!" Sam jabs a finger in his direction, then turns it on himself. "Hell, I'm gonna get in trouble."

"Nobody's gonna get in trouble," Steve insists, some of his fire coming back at the idea of everybody at his work knowing. "Cause you're not gonna tell anybody. Sam? Sam!"

"Shut up." Sam's not even looking at him. He's pulled his phone out, is looking something up, muttering under his breath about how he's sick and tired of dealing with 'too many goddamn cocky dumbass Army grunt jarheads' until he finds what it is he's been searching for. He taps on the screen and puts the phone to his ear, pointing at Steve with big, wide, angry googly eyes when he sees Steve's mouth open to argue again. "Ah! Not a word."

Steve can only sit there helplessly as he hears Sam's call being picked up, and then he has to suffer through the small torture of not interrupting while his manager has a clipped conversation with somebody on the other end of the line about his "high needs employee."

"Sam," he tries again, once Sam's hung up from the call. "I don't need that, seriously,"

"No, you do, seriously," Sam says tersely, glaring across the table for another second before his angry expression gives way to that of a worried friend. He sighs and stands up, rounding the table to stand next to Steve. "Look, man, I get it. You don't want to tell people, that's your business. But you can't go without getting dropped. Not for however long I know your stubborn ass's probably gone. Falling apart just cause Hilda looks at you sideways?"

"... it's Helga," Steve mumbles. "And hey, you don't know: she can be really intimidating." It's a weak argument that holds up about as well as Steve had, back in the mess. Sam doesn't even dignify it with an answer. "What're you gonna do?" Steve worries.

Sam puts a hand on his shoulder. He pats him. "Nothing, if you take care of yourself." He removes the hand and heads for the door just behind and to Steve's left. "I'll text you the place. You're off on personal leave the rest of this week- "

"Sam!" Steve starts to twist around towards the door but Sam's already out in the hallway.

"You've got that, plus the weekend to handle it. And I'll know if you lie about going!"

Steve turns back around, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth. A moment later, there's a 'buzz' against his leg. He maneuvers past a glob of mayonnaise to pull his phone out of his pocket. As promised, there's one new text.

[11:59 AM] Sam Wilson (VA job):

"Safe Haven Respite Services, LLC"

1472 Halifax St., Ste. C.

--ask for "Bucky" (and don't be an ass!)

Steve purses his lips, knowing that he's going to have to do it if he wants to keep his job. Feeling both tired and grumpy, he lets his hands fall into his lap and scowls down at the phone.

What the hell kind of simp-ass Dom even calls themself something stupid like "Bucky," anyway?

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup. It's a big part of what allows me to take time to write. Thanks!

[write-orflight]

Settle Down: Chapter 3

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)  

Rating: M

Words: 2K

Warnings: None, suggestive language

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary:  Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one   thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a   family, right?

AN: Unedited and ending might change as I wrote this half asleep. Comment on this chapter or inbox to be on taglist. thanks! much love, Cia.

Chapter 3: You’re really going to waste a Good Witch on this?

You still felt pretty normal. You knew not to expect or feel anything at least for another couple of weeks but that didn’t make you any less nervous about it. So now you were playing the waiting game. You and Spencer were doing good. For some reason it wasn’t awkward that morning after the sex at all. The two of you just woke up and got coffee before heading into work like nothing happened. It was fine until Spencer had suggested that night maybe having sex again would increase your chances of getting pregnant since you were also ovulating the second day. You agreed of course but you couldn’t figure out if it had been for the reasons you were supposed to. The sex had been great, as good if not better than the first time yet you still felt slimy, like you were tricking Spencer even though he suggested it and was probably right. Spencer gave no indication that it bothered him though so you figured you were in the clear. 

You almost had been caught by Penelope when you went to work the following day. The second time around, let's just say Spencer was a lot less shy, a lot more ambitious and left a giant bruise on the side of your neck where he had been kissing practically the whole night. You couldn’t be that mad about it when you left your fair share of bruises on him. 

“Whoa!” Penny said when you walked into the small work space the two of you shared. You knew what she was talking about instantly. You desperately tried to cover it up and he apologized profusely for it. You told him it was no big deal. It wasn't like you were making big moves to stop him at the time. “Someone had a fun night. Come on, spill!” She says, turning to face you. 

“I burned myself on a curling iron. Not nearly as fun a night as you think.” You lie, shrugging the whole inquisition off so you wouldn’t suspect you lying to her. It seems to work because she groans. 

“Ugh, nothing interesting ever happens here!” She groans. “What about you and Spencer?” 

You look nervous for a second. “What about me and Spencer?” 

“I mean, anything new in babyville?” She gestures. 

“Oh! Nothing yet. We’re just playing the waiting game right now.” 

“That was fast. So you might be pregnant right now?” You shrug. “I can’t believe you and Spencer are having a kid.” 

“Yea, it’s kinda strange but we’ll manage.” You say as the phone rings. The team was out on a case, it wasn’t uncommon for them to call you guys for technological aid. 

“All seeing, all knowing.” You greet them on the phone. You adapted Garcia’s jovial speech the more you worked with her. 

“Hey, Y/N…” You hear Spencer’s voice say back to you. 

“Oh, hey Spencer. I’ll patch you to Penny.” You say, hand on the button to do that. You’ve grown accustomed to transferring him to Penelope over the years since he preferred to talk to her. 

“No! No, I’m actually calling for you…” He says. 

“You never call for me.” You say. “You always ask for Garcia.” 

“I know, I know. I just— how are you feeling?”  

“I’m fine, Spencer.” You say. “It’s only been a couple days.” 

“I know, I know. I just wanted to see how you were doing.” Spencer says nervously into the phone. 

“I’ll tell you if anything changes, but right now I’m fine, ok?” 

“Ok.” He says back. 

“Now did you have a question pertaining to my actual job?” 

“Could you run financial records for Wilard Yannis for me?” 

—————————————

It was a week later and the team was officially back from the case. It was a paperwork day which you and Garcia always used to review potential cases. You were doing just that when a knock came to your door. Spencer walked in brandishing two coffees and a pastry bag which he places in front of Garcia. 

“What’s this?” Garcia asks, excitedly opening the pastry bag. “It’s a crossiant and it’s still warm. Oh, you love me and I love you.” She says, patting his cheek. You don’t turn from your screen but you smile at Penelope’s antics. You don’t look up until you see a cup being placed in front of you. 

“What is this?” You ask. 

“Coffee.” He says like it’s obvious. 

“Why?” 

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He rolls his eyes before walking out. You sip the coffee tentatively. 

Ok, how the fuck does he know your coffee order? 

You wait until he’s heading to the file room later to corner him. You follow in behind him and lock the door. 

“Ok, you need to knock it off.” You say, crossing your arms. 

“Knock what off, Y/N?” He asks. 

“You know what!” You exclaim. “Do I need to remind you what your job is? What our coworkers jobs are? We work with Profilers for God's sake! Now, I was able to avoid suspicion even though you left a Texas size bruise on my neck. But you’ve got to knock it off and stop acting weird around me.” 

“How am I acting weird?” 

“For one, stop calling me for cases. You have always called Garcia and now you’re suddenly calling for me?” 

“So I can’t call and ask you to do your job? That’s rich.”

“No asshole, you can’t ask me now. You’ve always asked for Garcia and while it was insulting that you would still do it even though I’ve been doing this for years, I’ve gotten used to it because that’s how you are, Spencer!” You exclaim throwing your hands in the air. “Spencer Reid doesn’t bring me coffee and he certainly doesn’t call to check up on me. Knock it off.” 

Spencer’s silent for a second, thinking. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I never thought of it like that. And I certainly never meant to insult you.” He says looking you in the eye. “But we don’t need to worry about me.” 

“What do you mean? You’re the only one who’s acting differently.” You say, confused. Spencer just laughs which only makes you look more confused. 

“I’m the only one acting different?” He says, taking a step towards you, crowding into your space. You back up slowly until your back hits the wall next to the door. His eyes drift up and down your body and you shiver under the scrutiny. “You’ve been staring at me all morning and the past couple of days we’ve been back. Specifically my hands and mouth. And whenever you do, your hand drifts to that ‘curling iron burn’ you have. Like you’re trying to remember what it felt like.” He’s mere inches away from you now and when you look up you can see the smug smirk on his face. “If I can notice it then so can they. So we don’t need to worry about me.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  You say, stubbornly. 

Spencer chuckles darkly. “Yea ok, answer me this then.” He says, his face moving so he’s impossibly close to you. You tilt your chin up to look in the eye and show him you’re not cowering away from him. But for some reason, despite only having sex the two times, his smell takes you out of focus and you’re almost at the point of drooling like a Pavlov dog. He notices this because he always does and smirks  and leans down close to you, your eyes drift shut thinking he was about to kiss you. You hate how ready you were for it. “If you were truly worried about me drawing attention to us…. Why did you lock yourself in a room with me?” 

With that, he’s reaching behind you and unlocking the file room door, moving around you to go through it. “We’ll talk later.” He adds before leaving you alone, confused and surrounded by cabinets. 

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

You stop in the ladies room to collect your thoughts for a second before heading back into your shared workspace. When you do get back, Penny turns her chair towards you, hands folded manically. You look at her confused. 

“You know, I knew something was up. I’m not a profiler or anything but I have a good intuition. So I knew by the way you flushed when I asked about your neck that it wasn’t an iron burn. But I let it go figuring if you wanted to tell me you’d tell me when you wanted. And then, when Derek told me he shared a hotel room with Spencer and saw some very interesting claw marks on his back when he was changing, I also didn’t say anything figuring you’d tell me if there was something to tell and I thought maybe, just maybe, it was a coincidence and the two didn’t correlate at all. But now, imagine my surprise when I was on my way back from the coffee machine that I saw both of you leaving a file room?” Penny smirks at you and you try to keep a straight face but your heart was beating so fast, you’d been had. 

“I have no idea what you’re on about. I was just having a conversation with Spencer.” 

“Something happened and you’re going to tell me.” She says. “Good Witch.” 

Good Witch was a phrase from way back in your hacker days to indicate a I scratch yours, you scratch mine deal between two parties. Since then, you and Garcia coined the term to mean no matter how big the ask the other had to say yes when it was called. Though it was typically used for moving or picking up the other from a bad date, it was never used like this. 

“You’re really going to waste a Good Witch on this?” you ask and she nods profusely. 

“Fine.” You throw your hands up before sitting across from her. “But my Good Witch is that this stays between us, no one else, including Spencer, can know. She nods and complies you sigh. “We went to the clinic and the Insemination cost was way too high. So we decided we’d you know…. Try the old fashion way.” 

Garcia looks at you wide eyed.  “You guys didn’t.” 

You nod, awkwardly. “It was nothing. Just two times while I was ovulating and if I’m pregnant now, never again.” 

Garcia hums. “And you’re sure you don’t just like each other?” 

“Garcia, Spencer hates me. We’d never work.” 

“You said, Spencer hates me. Not we hate each other like you usually do.” She points at you. “You’re starting to like him.” 

“No, I’m not! Just a slip up on my words.” You exclaim, but Garcia gives you a look that screams she doesn’t believe you. “Anyway, you used your Good Witch to ask a question I already answered so I don’t need to tell you anything else.” 

“Can you at least tell me this?” She asks. “Was it… good?” 

You groan into your hands. “That’s the problem! It was good! Too good! Earth-shattering, mind blowing good that I can’t focus or think of anything that’s not it. And Spencer knows that and he’s being a dick about it.” You sigh. Garcia pats your back, looking sympathetically. 

“Well, it’s just like you said, it was just to have the baby, right? So at least you know if you’re pregnant now, you never have to deal with it again.” She smiles before turning back to her screen. She was right, Spencer wouldn’t play games with your emotions like back in the File room if you were actually pregnant now so you could go back to less stress-inducing, Spencer-free mornings, at least until the baby was here. 

That was what you wanted.

Right? 

Taglist: @moonshinerbynight​ @crimeshowtrash​ @no-honey-no​ @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel​ @chenlemure​ @sizzlingclamturtlesludge​ @tclaerh​ @k-k0129​ @takeyourleap-of-faith​ @trashyhipsterfangirl @haylaansmi​ @spencerreidlivesrentfreeinmyhead​ @waspyyy​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @octaviaxanadu​ @whxt-to-write​ @meowiemari​ @b99andsoc​ @boba-king-iroh​ @punkndisorderrly​ @richardrosejpeg​ @underratedmisfit​ @gredvb​ @criminalminds4days​ @fanfictionislifetho​ @justpeachykeeeen​ @kopfkinomind @moonchildkei @appleblossoms-posts​ @urguardiandevil​ @cm-imagines-07​ @ajeff855 @reidsconverse​ @isknowplaces @ashwarren32​

@cielo1984​ @rainsong01​ @dracoxmgg​ @m0rce1ddd​ @daviddobrikandyn @mcntsee​

[lady-of-the-lotus]

Xuexiao Goes to the DMV

Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen go to the DMV (aka Where Hope Goes To Die) and share a kiss.

That’s it. That’s the fic.

Xuexiao - T (just for some cursing) - Read on AO3!

*

“If you hear about someone going berserk in a DMV on the news, that’ll be me,” the mechanical text-to-speech voice reads aloud, and Xiao Xingchen turns to Xue Yang questioningly.

Xue Yang reaches over and turns the volume down on Xingchen’s phone. “Meant to send that to A-Qing.”

“Are we going to be escorted out? Again?”

Xue Yang grins and looks around the room. They’ve already been at the DMV for over an hour. Dozens of people are draped limply over the hard orange seats, eyes glazed, going down for the third time in a sea of government bureaucracy.

“Ticket 4352, now being served at window thirty-three,” announces the robotic voice over the loudspeaker.

“It would take an alien invasion to wake these people up,” Xue Yang says as a man in overalls shuffles past. “You should see these people. This must be what a lobotomy post-op recovery room looks like.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Like the world’s most incompetent deli, filled with zombie customers waiting to eat the brains of whatever the opposite of employee of the month is. Well, ‘brains.’ They work at the DMV, after all.”

Xiao Xingchen adjusts his sunglasses. “Let's not be mean.”

“And we can all hear you,” adds a woman on his left. “Not that it made much sense.”

Xue Yang makes a face at her and turns back to Xingchen. “If they make me come back a third time, I’m going to go postal. You know, going postal should be called ‘going DMV.’ It’s catchier, for one thing, and I’ve never so much as stepped foot in a post office—”

“I’m keeping you far away from post offices. Those poor people have suffered enough.”

“How so?”

“Well, there must be a reason they go postal, right?”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “If the post office has the same taste in music as the DMV, I don’t blame them. Who picked this station? If it’s not Justin Bieber it’s whoever inflicted ‘Kiss Me Through the Phone’ on the world. I’d like to do something to them through the phone, and it won’t be a kiss, I can tell you that much.”

Xiao Xingchen takes a Snickers bar out of the fanny pack Xue Yang has vainly begged him not to wear. “According to the television commercials, this will improve your mood.”

“My mood?” Xue Yang takes a bite. “If I have to hear ‘Baby’ one more time—”

“Ticket 9753, now being served at window fourteen.”

“ ‘Served.’ Ha. As if.”

Xiao Xingchen feels around for another Snickers bar but comes up empty. He should have planned this better. He’d sensed Xue Yang’s mood coming on last night as Xue Yang went through his documents. He’d been cheerful enough until he found his birth certificate in the bundle of papers he’d been given after leaving his last group home.

Then he’d grown strangely quiet, and wandered aimlessly around their apartment for an hour, carrying his phone around with him and switching between a half-dozen different YouTube videos before deciding to bake brownies at 1am and burning them when he got distracted playing video games. He wasn’t paying much attention to the video game, either, going by his cursing as he got repeatedly blown up by what Xingchen suspects was a twelve-year old somewhere in Japan, and eventually gave that up to go take apart their toaster in the interest of “fixing” it.

Now he sits beside Xingchen, jiggling his leg. Xiao Xingchen wants to ask him about his birth certificate, but he hadn't dared to last night, and doesn’t dare now.

“Ticket 9755, now being served at Window 26.”

“Weren’t you 9754?” he asks Xue Yang.

“Oh, crap—” Xue Yang jumps to his feet and rushes to Window 26, brushing past a mohawked man holding a ticket marked 9755. “I’m 9754.”

The woman behind the glass may as well have been carved from wood. “You missed your number.”

“There was no announcement!”

“Or your number isn’t working. It’s not showing up on my computer.”

“What the hell does that mean? I’m on the screen! Look!” Xue Yang jabs a finger at the screen above the booth. At the bottom of the list it reads Ticket 9754 – Window 26. “9754! Window 26! All you need to do is take my picture—”

“Get back in line. Get a new ticket. Window 13.”

“Get back in line?” He looks over at the line for Window 13. It wraps around the entire room. “I already have a number! I’m on the screen!”

“Back. In. Line.”

“Just take the damn photo—”

Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll get back in line.”

“Like hell we will! I’ve been here since 5 o’clock—I made an appointment! I even brought my own pen! You ever watch Monsters Inc.? You know Roz? Are you her evil older sister? Because you look exactly like—”

“Back of the line.”

“Younger sister, then. Happy?”

The woman doesn’t bother shrugging. “You’re blocking traffic.”

Xingchen begins to move, heading in the wrong direction. Xue Yang has no choice but to follow or else let him walk into a column plastered with posters emblazoned with, Make your visit easy - download the forms at dmv.gov! , Streamline your visit - make an appointment online today!, and We’re here to help!

“Let’s just go home,” says Xue Yang. “The gray, water stained walls are starting to close in. At any second I expect a giant ball to roll towards us. Well, wrong movie—whatever. I’m sick of this place. It’s cursed.”

“We’re just going to have to come back, and you’ll have wasted the hour we already spent here.”

Xue Yang groans and gets in line behind a woman with three small screaming children. “This whole thing is stupid. We can barely afford rent, let alone a car."

"We will, one day. Besides, it's good to have a license."

"We’ll just take trains and buses everywhere, or you can learn to drive. We'll fudge the vision test."

Xingchen laughs. Xue Yang relaxes slightly at the sound. After a moment, Xingchen slips his hand in his. He’s not one for public displays of affection, but there’s an edge in Xue Yang’s voice that has nothing to do with his return to Window 13.

Xue Yang’s hand tightens in his, and Xingchen rubs it reassuringly with his thumb.

“You again?” says the woman at Window 13 when they finally make it there, twenty minutes later.

“That power-mad dictator at Window 26 wouldn’t take my picture.”

The woman tilts her head at Xue Yang. “She wouldn’t?”

Xue Yang tilts his head back at her, as if to say, I know! Who wouldn’t want to photograph me ?

She smiles, a synthetic smile that reminds Xue Yang of his friend Lan Xichen’s dimpled little fiance. “Strange.”

“ ‘Strange’? I knew she could have just done it had she wanted to—”

The woman blinks at him, her smile growing faker by the minute. “I’m sure what she told you was accurate.”

“Sure, and there is no war in Ba-Sing-Se—”

Xiao Xingchen squeezes his hand, and Xue Yang stops talking and passes her his form. She stamps it a second time and hands him another ticket.

He and Xingchen return to the waiting area. Xue Yang puts his boots up on the seat next to him, resting his head on Xingchen’s shoulder.

“Describe the room to me again,” Xingchen says, trying to distract him from his brooding and, with any luck, keep him from taking out his Swiss army knife and carving his initials into the seat and get them kicked out again. Xue Yang has a talent for describing things, and Xingchen has been trying to encourage him to start writing.

Xue Yang begins to play with his long sleek ponytail. “Purgatory’s antechamber. Humanity’s lost-and-found. A void where time has no meaning. Pit of despair and industrial cleaner.”

Xingchen chuckles, making sure it’s loud enough for Xue Yang to hear.

“If their posters were honest, they’d all be in Comic Sans font, with things like, Where hope goes to die; This is your home now; Nothing escapes our pull, not even time; Human sacrifices while you wait—”

“Human sacrifices?”

"Yeah, I think so."

A crackle of static over the speaker as a new song comes on. “You know you love me, I know you care...Just shout whenever and I'll be there….”

Xue Yang starts up violently, but Xiao Xingchen gently pulls him back down beside him. “Some kind of cannibal conspiracy?” he asks, hoping Xue Yang’s knife has remained in his pocket and is not seconds away from being embedded in a blaring loudspeaker.

Xue Yang settles back against his shoulder. “I’m positive Overalls Guy never returned from Window 17. He’s probably in the office barbecue pit.”

“This must go all the way to the top. Shift supervisor too, I’d guess.”

“Baby, baby, baby oh….Like baby, baby, baby no….”

Xue Yang stops playing with his hair and starts picking at his black nail polish. He’s feeling a bit better, Xingchen’s shoulder warm and solid. “I swear that Roz lady put a curse on me. They all probably dance in a circle around a stack of burning Social Security cards every night, chanting.” He squirms, suddenly bored. “You got any more food? I’m starving.”

Xingchen rummages in his fanny pack. “Just a burned brownie.”

“I swear I set a timer!"

The timer had gone off while Xingchen was in the shower last night. Xue Yang had simply ignored it, too absorbed in trying to virtually blow up his twelve-year-old nemesis. He tends to ignore timers while cooking, usually followed by a mad rush to the kitchen to salvage dinner. “You know dinner is ready when the smoke detector goes off,” he likes to say.

Xue Yang sniffs the crumpled foil surrounding the charred black brownie chunk. “Is this the same foil I wrapped your tuna sandwich in yesterday?”

“We only have one earth!”

“Xingchen, I swear—” Xue Yang stops, rolling his eyes fondly. He’s never met anyone who can be so annoying and endearing at the same time.

Xingchen takes the brownie back. “I'll eat it. I like the burned bits.”

"It's all burned bits."

"Exactly. Perfect."

“She knows she's got me dazing, 'cause she was so amazin'....And now my heart is breakin', but I just keep on sayin'....”

“Who wrote this? I swear I won’t hurt them. I just want their address.”

Xingchen knows he shouldn’t laugh at that, but he can’t help it.

They sit there for another half hour, talking. Xue Yang has succeeded in denuding the nails of his left hand when his number is finally called. He gets his photo taken by a man with glazed eyes and no chin, and is shuffled off to the next waiting area.

“They refused to show me my photo,” he says as they settle back down. “I swear the camera stole my soul and is using it to power the fluorescent lights. I feel at peace now. Kind of floating.” He discovers a piece of gum in his jeans pocket and begins to loudly blow bubbles, making full eye contact with the annoyed Bluetooth Guy and irritated Woman With Facial Tattoo Of Bugs Bunny. “I am one with the DMV demigods, part of something larger than myself.”

“Like joining the army.”

“Or drowning in the ocean.” He lays down with his head in Xingchen’s lap, boots on the edge of Bluetooth Guy’s seat. “Why does your fanny pack smell like patchouli? Have you been burning weird hippie incense again? You promised you’d stop after you set fire to your curtains.”

Xingchen would rather Xue Yang didn’t semi-cuddle him in public, but Xue Yang’s energy is calmer when he’s touching Xingchen, and he lets him stay. “It’s that new candle you bought me, remember?”

“Right. Bought you.”

“What do you—”

“I thought it was peppermint.”

Xingchen bites his lip. Xue Yang is…well, he can read well enough to pass a driving test, but his education was…slipshod at best. Next on Xingchen’s list is encouraging Xue Yang to get his GED.

“You smell like a music festival,” says Xue Yang. “I must have grabbed the wrong one in the store. I sniffed all of them. My picture is probably hanging beside the register of every Bath & Body Works in town: ‘Beware the Candle Perv’—”

“At least someone was willing to take your picture.”

Xue Yang laughs. Xingchen rests a hand on his chest, heedless of the people around them. He likes how Xue Yang feels when he laughs, his whole body shaking, making no attempt to hide his feelings. Xue Yang makes him laugh so often, it’s a special joy for him to return the favor.

They’ve been there almost two and a half hours when Xue Yang’s number is finally called. As if the DMV curse is kicking in again, the loudspeakers creep up another few decibels.

“Like baby, baby, baby no, like baby, baby, baby oh, thought you'd always be mine, mine….”

“Xue Yang—” Xingchen starts before Xue Yang can say anything.

“I know, I know. This is penance for my putting that egg in Song Lan’s shoe last week. The DMV knows all. The DMV was here before us, and will be here after we are gone. The DMV—”

“—The DMV will make us wait in line again, if we don’t hurry.��

Together they go to Window 10, where a drab little man sifts through Xue Yang’s documents. “Fifties, balding, completely dead inside,” Xue Yang whispers to Xingchen.

“I’m thirty-nine,” says the man in a monotone, not looking up, “and you’re missing a birth certificate. And what’s this stain on your Social Security card?”

“Definitely not blood.”

The man stares at him with eyes that, had his life force not already been sucked out of Xue Yang by an afternoon at the DMV, would have done the job. “Current passport, or birth certificate.”

Xue Yang hesitates, then slips a folded piece of pink paper under the glass partition.

The man unfolds it with the sterling speed of a drugged snail and spreads it over the counter. He lines up Xue Yang’s Social Security card, bank statement, and birth certificate, and examines them line by line as if he’s a Bletchley Circle analyst and Xue Yang’s documents are intercepted enemy transmissions.

He looks up at Xue Yang. “Is this a valid birth certificate? There are no parent names listed, and the date of birth has an asterisk—”

“I know what it has!”

“What’s your date of birth?” The man slowly pushes his chair back. “I’m going to have to get a supervisor—”

Xue Yang slams the counter. Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. It’s a miracle Xue Yang’s knife isn’t out. “Don’t you fucking dare! This is what they do when—just Google it, okay? I don’t know what day I was born, they just put whatever date they thought was accurate—”

Xingchen swallows hard.

He had known Xue Yang had grown up in foster care, but had assumed he had been given up by his parents as a child when they could no longer take care of him.

Not—not abandoned as an infant—

“And change the fucking station!” Xue Yang adds. “If I have to hear that stupid fucking song one more time I will go fucking berserk —”

The man’s dead-eyed stare intensifies. “Sign here,” he says after a moment, pushing a slip of paper at Xue Yang.

“You want my love, you want my heart….And we will never, ever, ever be apart…”

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Xingchen asks as they step outside. The words sound hollow, and he wishes he had simply remained silent.

Xue Yang takes a deep breath. It’s almost cool out, a welcome change from the week’s heat. “Well, we escaped. Now we just have to get help for the others. Or do we abandon them to their fates? I vote we abandon them. You should have seen some of the looks I got. It’s like they never saw someone threaten a DMV employee before, something I’m willing to bet happens a dozen times an hour.”

Xingchen takes his arm as he begins to walk. It’s easier than using his stick in the crowded city. “Xue Yang…”

Xue Yang’s muscles tense beneath his arm. “What?”

“Nothing.” He bites his lip. He’ll have Xue Yang feeling better soon enough. “What street are we on? Turn in on 33rd.”

“What’s on 33rd?”

“Just let me know when we’re there. 33rd and 7th.”

“The train’s on 36th.”

“But the restaurant’s on 33rd.”

“The what?”

Xingchen wants to smile, but is afraid Xue Yang might take it the wrong way after what happened at the DMV. For someone who does his best to project an I-don’t-care attitude, Xue Yang is surprisingly sensitive.

“What’s today’s date?” He already knows the date, of course. It’s been on his mind for weeks now.

Xue Yang’s arm grows even stiffer. “Is this a ‘you-don’t-know-when-your-birthday-is-so-every-day-is-your-birthday’ thing? Because—”

“Not at all… Remember the day we met? You made fun of my shirt—”

Xue Yang frowns at this sudden change of subject, but goes along with it. Better than talking about that damn birth certificate. “It was white, and ruffled. You looked like an escapee from a high school production of Hamlet. What was I supposed to do?”

“You crashed a motorcycle not three feet from me. An unregistered motorcycle with stolen plates.”

"I bought you coffee to make up for it, didn’t I?”

“You had them put four sugars in my cappuccino. It was undrinkable.”

“One was a Splenda, and anyway I took you to dinner to make up for the coffee, didn’t I?”

“Pizza at one of those dollar-a-slice places you have to stand at a counter to eat. I paid for it.”

“And I paid for your kombucha, whatever the heck that is.”

“And I paid for the band-aids we had to go buy after you cut yourself after playing catch with your knife.”

“You were distracting me!”

“I was quietly eating my pizza.”

“The light reflecting off your shirt ruffles got in my eyes.”

“Four dollars for the band-aids. You insisted on Hello Kitty.”

“Spongebob was also on the table." He wrinkles his nose. "I've got about three-fifty in my pocket, if you want it. But what’s your point, exactly?'

Xingchen smiles. He enjoys winding up Xue Yang, and it’s by far the most effective way to distract him when he’s in a dark mood. “Just that you better not put extra sugar in the fondue.”

“The what?”

“A-Qing read me the dessert menu. Chocolate fondue with bananas, blueberries, pineapple, and cherries. Strawberries, too, I think, and marshmallows, maybe even non-charred brownies—”

Xue Yang stops walking. “Xingchen—”

Xingchen lets go of Xue Yang’s arm, takes his hand instead. Kisses him soundly, right there on Sixth Avenue.

“Forget your birthday," he says. "We have a new date to celebrate every year." He gives Xue Yang's hand a little squeeze and kisses him again. “Happy anniversary, Xue Yang.”

*

Liked it? AO3 👉👈

Ruffle shirt reference

Obviously, Xue Yang was simply distracted by how pretty Xingchen was.

[jalapeno-princess]

Cyber Sex

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Genre: Fluffy ass smut 

Warning: Masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, cussing, breast play

Summary: Your boyfriend Mark is currently in Japan for a conference and seeing you wearing nothing but his shirt leads to fingering yourself to his commands.

A/N: Based on the song “Cyber Sex” by Doja Cat. I am so excited for their comeback, I’m broke as a fucking joke but it’s fine. I’m FINE. Happy reading.

I wanna touch on you You see me in my room Wish you were here right now All of the things I'd do I wanna get freaky on camera I love when we get freaky on camera

The word tired wasn’t even enough to describe exactly how you were feeling right now. You were exhausted beyond belief to say the least. Being a full time college student; majoring in both criminal justice and journalism on top of having a full time job at one of the most prestigious and reputable law firms in your state wasn’t the most ideal situation, but you made it work. Well, for the most part. 

Your mental health these days has been at an all time low; you were being overworked to the point where you were afraid you could suffer from either a mental breakdown or panic attack at the rate you were headed. Unfortunately, the only person who knew how to keep you from completely reaching the brink of insanity was currently thousands of miles away from you. Your boyfriend of over three years—Mark; was in Japan for a very important conference that the company he was working for sent him on in order to represent his department. 

Although he was the youngest in his career field; Mark knew exactly what to say and do to build partnerships and to gain the trust of many other company shareholders. Your boyfriend was quite the charmer; sometimes you did grow jealous when you’d observe how some of his colleagues and a few of his clients would look at him in such a way that you thought only you were allowed to. 

As much as you wanted to be upset with the women who were bold enough to ask him out even if they knew he was in a relationship, you couldn’t really blame them for finding him attractive and attempting to make a move on him. Mark was the definition of a sight for sore eyes. He was gorgeous and exceedingly handsome—however, Mark was way more than just a pretty face, a well-defined and extremely toned body and a deep, raspy voice that never failed to get you groveling at your knees. 

He was extremely kind and generous to every single person he’s ever met in his life. You always considered him to be somewhat of an angel; an ethereal being here on earth because there was no way someone who was both ridiculously breathtaking on the outside was just as wonderful on the inside. Sometimes, you felt as if he deserved better than you. From a very young age, you never thought much about yourself; you didn’t care all too much about the way you looked, you didn’t consider yourself smart, funny nor did you have any impressive talent. 

However, Mark never failed to make you feel as if you were the most beautiful creature he has ever laid his eyes on. He reminded you both physically and verbally on a daily basis that he loved you more than anyone and anything on this he’ll forsaken earth. You were his person, his soulmate—the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. You don’t know what it was that you did in your past life to be the lucky person to call him your boyfriend, but you would do it again and again if it meant having him in each and every lifetime. 

It was hard having to be away from him every now and then—especially on the days when you felt as if the entire world was against you for not doing anything right. Deep down, you knew you were doing the best you can but it was as if your best wasn’t good enough for other people. Since Mark was a day ahead but six hours behind, you were sure he had to be busy attending a convention or going over his notes to prepare for meetings he had mentioned to you a couple of times in the last week. 

As much as you wanted to call him just to hear his voice; even if it were just for a few minutes, you didn’t want to bother him. He had other things to worry about—the stress and frustration caused by your responsibilities would only worry him and you knew he didn’t need that. You made your way in to the bathroom and started getting ready to go to sleep. You wiped off any trace of makeup from your face, brushed your teeth and took off your clothes before throwing on one of Mark’s shirts. 

Right as you were about to throw yourself in to the comfort of your bed, you heard your phone sound off on the night stand and because you had a huge feeling it was Mark trying to get in touch with you, you practically flung yourself across the threshold and reached for your phone while flopping down on your sheets.

Babe: Hey, you didn’t let me know if you got home. Are you alright? Can we FaceTime? I miss seeing your pretty face so much. 11:27 P.M.

Whatever exhaustion you felt from earlier immediately disappeared; the want and need to talk to your boyfriend was far stronger than any amount of tiredness you felt. You got up and grabbed your laptop—preferring to look at him on a bigger screen since your vision wasn’t all that great from taking out your contacts. He was quick to answer before the first ring and you could feel your chest warm up at the sight of him. 

No matter what he wore, he always seemed to take your breath away. Whether it was a flannel and some skinny jeans or just a pair of grey sweats when the two of you would lounge around your shared apartment—a blush would always seem to rise on your cheeks just because he was so annoyingly attractive. However, seeing him in a suit; looking extremely classy with his hair pulled back so you could see the entirety of his handsome face made your stomach sore in the best way. God, why did he have to be thousands of miles away from you? 

“Baby!” You gave him a soft smile and sat up properly in order to get a better look at him. 

“Hey—are you right about to go in to a meeting or something? You look very handsome babe.” He gave you his infamous cheeky grin—one he always flashed whenever you would compliment him. Mark, even at the prime age of twenty-seven could still get so shy and flustered at the smallest little things. Especially whenever you would go in to detail about his charming features or how his cute little butt always looked good in a pair of slacks. 

He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment before biting his lip. You were soon growing envious at the thought of how many women got to see him looking like a Greek-God while in his element. Although you have only seen a few videos of the speeches he would give at conventions and conferences, you observed just how confident he was when it came to his craft. When it came to talking with other people—sometimes even when the two of you would go out to dinner with your parents, he was always so timid and soft spoken. 

Yet, he seemed to change in to a completely different person in environments where he was meant to persuade clients in to buying stocks with his company. You couldn’t help but find it cute whenever he would act flustered around you—especially because in the bedroom and behind close doors, he was the complete opposite of shy. 

“Oh—uh, thanks. I actually just came back from a luncheon. It was boring as hell and honestly I didn’t hear a thing anyone had to say, I was too busy thinking of you. God, I hate having to attend these fucking conferences—I mean I love traveling; it’s not like we can really go around anyway and even if we could, I’d use all my free time talking to you. I hate any moment spent without you baby. Tell me about your day; how was work? Did you finally take that exam you’ve been studying for these last two weeks—oh shit. I didn’t realize what time it was there, I’m sorry baby. You must be tired, I can call you back tomorrow—“ 

You waved your hand out at him signaling that it was okay. Even if you had to be up in less than five hours, you were perfectly fine with the idea of getting no sleep at all tonight if it meant talking to your favorite person until the sun rose. 

“It’s fine Mark. I miss you too—so much. I can always message my professor and tell her I’m sick if I’m not feeling up to attending class tomorrow. Work was work; tiring and frustrating as it always is and school is well—school. Nothing new. I want to hear about you though—“

“We’ll get to me later baby. It hurts knowing that you’re going through something—I’m sure there’s more to it that you’re not telling me. I hate that you suffer by yourself and it’s even harder when I’m away and I can’t hold you and tell you that everything is going to be okay. But it will be and you know why? Because you have me. I got you y/n. You know you can always run to me—confide in me. That’s what I’m here for. To help carry your burden with you. I’m sure you’re well aware that I want nothing more than to carry your problems in your place. I would do anything just to make you happy—I hope you know that. I probably don’t say it as often as I should, but fuck—I just want to give you the whole world; the entire universe because it’s what you deserve.” 

You could feel the tears brimming at your eyelids and if he was there with you, you would probably playfully shove him for making you cry with his sweet words before leaving chaste kisses all over his face. One thing you admired about your boyfriend, on top of the infinite amount of other things was his way with words. Mark preferred to show you through his actions rather than tell you with his words exactly what you meant to him but when he did speak up about his feelings, your heart would combust in to a million different pieces. 

He even wrote you a couple of letters filled with love and adoration because he wanted to remind you when he wasn’t around that you were all he could ever want and need for the rest of his life. The two of you talked for around half an hour until you found yourself re-positioning yourself when your leg got a cramp for sitting on it too long. You didn’t think anything of it, but as soon as you fixed yourself, you were quick to notice how Mark’s jaw was now clenched as he began grazing his teeth along his bottom lip. 

You’ve been with him long enough to know what his ministrations and movements meant; those two in particular usually meant that he was either uncomfortable or horny. But you didn’t understand how he could be either; he was fine just a few seconds ago—why was he looking as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. 

“Hey Mark, everything okay?”

“Is that my shirt?” 

You looked down at his black champion tee that was practically swallowing you whole, just like most of his clothes that you’d find yourself wearing every now and then. He never failed to rave about how sexy you looked in his clothes and sometimes he didn’t have the willpower to let it stay on you for all too long before ripping it off and showing you the effect that seeing you in any of his clothes would do for him. 

Your hair was a mess, there were bags under your eyes and your lips were chapped from not feeling the need to moisturize them; so you didn’t feel like you were at all ravishing or attractive in any way. Surely, seeing you in his shirt couldn’t be the reason why he was riled up all of a sudden—could it? 

“Oh, yeah. I was so exhausted I just grabbed the closest item of clothing near the sink. Is there something wrong? It smells good. Just like you—wait, is it dirty? Did you not wash it yet? I can go change—“

“No no—shit—can you lean back or something? I want to see you, full body.” 

You did as you were told and pushed your computer further away from where you were sitting before moving back just a little in order for him to get a better look at you. It wasn’t till you saw him gulp as a whimper fell from the back of his throat did you know exactly what was going on. 

“Mark—“

“Fuck—you look so fucking breathtaking Y/n—so damn sexy—don’t get me wrong, you always look so beautiful. But when you’re in one of my shirt it’s just—why the fuck am I in Japan right now this is bullshit.” 

A soft giggle fell from your lips; whenever Mark would get horny, that was when he was the most vocal about his emotions. He was extremely vulgar and his words were always so dirty; so naughty. It was funny listening to him talk on the phone to his boss or a couple of his colleagues knowing just how filthy and lewd he could be during your love making sessions. Your boyfriend was the definition of dominant. 

There were a few occasions where he would allow you to take charge—when you would dominate him, you would put all your effort and energy in to driving him to the brink of insanity. The older boy didn’t know what he preferred; edging you until you would beg for him to let you cum, or being tied up to the bed while you ride him at an exceedingly quickened pace. You could feel the warmth building in between your thighs at his words on top of the frustration that he wasn’t there to help you with the forming orgasm you were now completely aware of. 

“You know babe, now that you’ve mentioned it—I do feel pretty warm in here. Maybe I should take this off.” 

You decided to mess with him; knowing that he was probably suffering and trying to hide the fact that he was definitely hard as a rock right now. His shirt was gently thrown to the side of the bed and soon your breasts were on full display for him. Watching his jaw drop at the sight of your bare chest only made you want to continue putting on a show for him. Slowly, you brought your hands up and cupped both your breasts in your hands—massaging and kneading your mounds all but gently before bringing your nipples in between your fingers and twisting them. 

Breast play had to be one of your favorite forms of foreplay; specifically because Mark—well, the asshole was good at every single thing he did. Sports, cooking and baking, education, singing, cracking unsolved mysteries and blowing your mind in more ways than one. His fingers; they had to be the prettiest fingers you’ve ever seen on someone before and you weren’t being biased because he was your boyfriend. 

Mark had such long, skinny fingers and he knew exactly how to use them. His hands were almost double the size of yours—yet your hands fit perfectly together as if you were made for one another. Although you were very insecure about your body, no matter how many times Mark practically worshipped it and reminded you how he loved every single one of your body parts; especially your face, breasts, thighs and ass, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confident in your boobs. Honestly, your breasts were one of the only parts that you genuinely liked about yourself. 

Sometimes, you would wear certain tops that showed enough cleavage to get a rise out of your boyfriend and every single time, you did. Mark looked as if his eyes were about to pop out of his head and you had to stifle back a few moans from how good it felt. No matter how much you were enjoying this; playing with yourself in front of your boyfriend, you knew it would feel so much better if he was the one doing it to you. 

“Fuck Y/n, you’re going to be the death of me. Shit—what I wouldn’t give to be the one fondling your pretty titties. Fuck—just wait till I get home princess. I’m gonna suck the shit out of them; you’re going to regret this. You’re so beautiful—I can’t get over how gorgeous you are. You’re really going to kill me.” You gave him a smirk and playfully brought your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Mmm—Mark—feels so good—“

“I bet it does baby—you look so ethereal—twisting your perky nipples like that. But I’m sure it doesn’t feel as nice as it would if it were me. Shit y/n—I want to titty fuck you so badly right now. I swear, it’s like your breasts get bigger whenever I’m away. Should I show you just how crazy you’re driving me right now?” 

You immediately nodded in agreement; the desire to see Mark’s cock was seeping through your veins. You didn’t care if you came off too eager or too excited; it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve seen your boyfriend and even longer since he was buried balls deep inside of you. Sex wasn’t a huge deal in your relationship—well, it was both yours and Mark’s favorite physical activity, but unlike other couples, you cared about other forms of intimacy just as much as you did making love. 

Mark was a huge fan of cuddling, spooning and holding hands. Your boyfriend was extremely clingy and overprotective whenever it came to you; but that was just apart of his nature. He wasted no time in yanking off his slacks; the outline of his cock was prominent against his grey briefs. You could feel your mouth water at the sight; to some people, penises were very ugly, but something about Mark’s always had you on your knees—begging for him to shove it down your throat. His girth was long and extremely thick. As soon as he took off his underwear, you suddenly stopped your movements and eagerly leaned forward to get a better look at him. 

“Someone’s excited.”

“That’s the understatement of the year. I could cum right now just at the sight of your tits alone. Fuck—you’re the one who caused this painful ass erection baby, I wish you were the one who would solve it.” He spit on his hand and brought the saliva down to the tip of his cock; he lubricated himself and you could feel your breath hitch when he let out a soft moan. 

“Babe—fuck Mark, there’s nothing more I want than to suck you off—“ If this were under different circumstances, you were sure he’d let out a snarky chuckle like he normally would every time you made it clear that you wanted to blow him; or if you wanted sex. You were always so soft spoken; so modest and you hardly ever were vocal when it came to voicing your desires. 

You were more of the type to mess around with him; gliding your hands gently along his thigh, palming him through his pants and even hovering over his lap; grinding yourself against his dick while leaving wet kisses against the juncture of his neck. Whether it was because you were extremely turned on or because it’s been a while since you and your boyfriend were intimate, but sometime came over you and you felt yourself wanting to take over of this cyber sex session.

“Mark—close your eyes baby. I want to take care of you. Pretend I’m there with you and do as I say. Grab the bottom of your cock; bring your thumb along the vein and slowly pump yourself.” 

Watching the veins on his neck grow made it adamant that he was enjoying your dominance and you used that to your advantage. He let out a very faint whine; you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t giving him your full attention and you were well aware that if you were to touch yourself, you’d be soaking at this point. 

“Circle your thumb around your tip, and graze the slit as gently as possible. God Mark—I’ll purchase a ticket to Tokyo right now just to wrap my mouth around your cock.” This earned you a mixture of a laugh and a cough and you found yourself laughing along with him. 

“Is that a promise? We can put this on pause and I’ll buy one for you; you don’t even need to pack a thing. All I need is you—keep talking like that and you’re going to lose your voice once I get home. I know I keep saying this, but it’s because it’s true and I can’t get over it—you’re so fucking sexy. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but just know that I love you; with every breath I take and every single beat of my heart. I love you more than I will ever be able to express to you in words. As much as I want to continue going in to depth about the love I have for you, you can’t be having all the fun here. Take off your underwear y/n—I can’t believe you’re wearing that one. How did I forget to take it with me? I remembered to sneak the matching bra in my suitcase—“

“So that’s where it went, I’ve been looking for it since you left—weirdo.”

“Hey, you have your kinks and I have mine. Now—take off your panty and do as I say.” 

With a quick roll of your eyes, you stripped yourself free of your red thong and flung it across of the room. It was probably a mess now with all your pieces of clothing lying around, but you didn’t care. There was a flame burning in your core that you wanted to hurry up and get around to reaching your release. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had sex over webcam; but you felt as if this time would be different from your past experiences. 

Not only did you miss your boyfriend terribly, but you’ve been daydreaming about the last time the two of you made love the night before he left and you could still feel the way his cock stretched out your walls. Your fingers absentmindedly made their way down to your entrance; you brought your index and your middle finger in your mouth and sucked on them before returning them back down to your folds. 

“Fuck—fuck, fuck—such a pretty little mouth and an even prettier pussy. Tell me baby—who does that pussy belong to? Tell me while you drag your digits along your core y/n.” 

You traced your fingers back and forth along your entrance; gathering some of your essence on your fingers and bringing them back to your mouth. During most of your sexual activities—Mark, whether it would be when he would finger you or when he would eat you out, would have you taste yourself so you were well aware why he was so addicted to the way your pussy tasted. 

Although you were a big fan of giving him blow jobs, Mark was a professional at giving head. He ate your pussy like it was a delicacy and he was very vocal about how pleasuring you brought him equal amounts of pleasure himself. Next to fucking your tits and ramming himself inside of you, he loved going down on you. On the days that work was extremely stressful, or your classes were bombarding you with too many assignments; Mark would take care of you—either making you dinner or ordering your favorite food, preparing you a bubble bath, and sucking the life out of your pussy in order to take your mind off of your many frustrations. 

You sucked your fingers dry of all your pre-cum and let out a loud pop before returning them back to their previous position. Multiple swears and wanton moans left Mark’s mouth as he continued to guide his hand back and forth along his cock all the while watching you shove your fingers inside of your cunt. It felt amazing; anytime the two of you were intimate—even on the days you were both exhausted beyond belief and just gave each other oral to both reach your highs, you could never get over the feeling of ecstasy and euphoria that came over you every time Mark would bring you to heaven with his tongue. 

It was in that moment that you realized the last time you kissed him was almost a month ago. If your schedule wasn’t so hectic, you probably would have went with your boyfriend. The two of you were like magnets; everywhere you went, people could expect Mark to follow no matter where it was. Most boyfriends would get bored having to wait outside while their girlfriends went shopping, but Mark would follow you around to each and every store; he even gave his opinion on what he thought would look good on you and what he would love to rip off of you. 

To your dismay, he would pay for everything even against your many complaints but like he said, he just wanted to make you happy. He felt bad that he had to travel all around the world a lot, so he felt like he wanted to buy you a couple of things to make up for being absent every so often. 

There were days your boyfriend contemplated on quitting his job and finding one that didn’t require him to leave all the time; but this job had amazing benefits and because he was still so young, yet had a position that most of his coworkers twenty years his senior haven’t even experienced before, he knew he wouldn’t be able to find a job even half as good as the one he had now. But he would give it all up and even work as a barista or a cashier in a grocery store if it meant being able to see you, kiss you, hold you and go to bed with you in his arms every single day. 

“Damnit y/n—ahhh—you’re such a goddess—my pretty petal—pump yourself harder baby. Faster—tell me how it feels. Grab your clit and twist it in between your fingers; I bet you’re like the Pacific Ocean right now. I’m sure you’re just as tight as you are wet baby. Keep going. Pretend it’s me; burying my long fingers in that tight cunt of yours. I can just picture how good you feel clenching around me. Flick your clit; ugh, I miss nibbling on it and taking it in between my teeth. I miss the way you would tighten your thighs around my head—and don’t even get me started on how much I miss whenever you would ride my face. I don’t think I can handle being away from you much longer y/n—it’s not even just because I miss fucking you—I mean I do—God do I miss railing the shit out of you—but I miss you. So much. I miss seeing your contagious smile that I’m sure could cure cancer, and your laugh that never fails to light up an entire room. I miss your lips and how they meld perfectly against mind. I miss looking at your beautiful eyes and the way you tell a story with them. I miss being the cause of the blush on your cheeks. I can’t wait to finally finish here and come back home to you. Just a couple more days baby then I’m all yours okay. Have I ever told you how grateful I am that you’re so patient? Thank you for waiting for me y/n—I—love you—“ 

You could feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyelids. Although you were just moments away from coming on your fingers, his words tugged on your heartstrings. Sure, he texted you every single day and told you that he would much rather be home with you; sat in between your legs and leaning his head against your chest while he played video games—but it was so heartwarming hearing him describe every single thing he missed about you. 

“I miss you too Mark—I would do anything for you. I’ll wait for however long you need me to my love. I love you—I hope you know that you’re the only good thing I’ve got going for me. I don’t care what happens in the future; I just really want you in it.” 

The two of you continued your movements; you quickened your pace; you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Your fingers felt so amazing being clenched by your velvety walls and you were actually doing really well with picturing that it was Mark fingering you. His movements were just as relentless and he even began fondling his balls. He tilted his head back and the sight made you whimper at how erotic it was. His neck; along with everything else on his body was long and you could still faintly see a couple of the love-bites you left on his collarbone. Before you knew it, you felt a sticky substance on your fingers and allowed yourself to come on your digits before releasing an embarrassingly loud moan. 

“Holy shit—that was so fucking hot. Suck your fingers for me baby—help me reach my release—shit, shit, shit—“ 

His semen squirted out in rapid spurts and you were upset that you weren’t able to feel him fill you up to the hilt with his warm, creamy liquid. His hair clung to his forehead as sweat dripped down the sides of his cheek. You were sure if you were to look in the mirror, your hair would be just as tousled and your cheeks would be flushed. 

The two of you spent a couple moments in comfortable silence; both coming down from your highs. He took a little while longer to come to his senses and you used this time to look at him in awe of just how breathtaking he was. This was a common occurrence right after the two of you finished your love making sessions; you would bask in each other’s presence and sometimes if you were still up for it, the two of you would talk until one of you would finally let sleep take over. Once you were both settled down, you gave him a soft smile and flopped on to the bed. 

“Honestly, I think I’m going to get a good nights rest now. Thank you baby, that was wonderful. I’m sure I would have came faster if it was your cock inside of me, but that was a good distraction nonetheless.” He beamed at you. 

“No, thank you. That was mind blowing as always y/n. I can’t wait until I have you in my arms—and on my cock. I love watching you as you cum—I wish you could see what I see, your expression when you reach your orgasm is so fucking tantalizing. I plan on having you the entire day when I come back home, so just be ready baby. Wait—you’re not going to bed naked are you—“

“Oh—I wasn’t planning to, but now that I know it’s probably going drive you insane—“

“You wouldn’t dare—fuck—just wait until I get my hands on you—“

You gave him a sultry smirk and began running your fingers in between the valley of your breasts. “Hmmm, I might just take the day off just to touch myself. Might even walk around the place naked. Too bad my boyfriend isn’t here to fuck me up against the balcony or up against the fridge—“ 

The growl that came from the back of his throat did not go unnoticed to you and you found the coil in your tummy tightening again. Only Mark Tuan could get you horny again minutes after getting you to come on your fingers. Even if he repeatedly called you sexy almost fifteen minutes ago; you felt like that word didn’t do him justice. 

“That’s it—I’m telling my supervisor I need to come home. Tonight. I’m gonna kiss the shit out of you then fuck the shit out of you.” 

You weren’t sure if he was just saying that in the heat of the moment, but you were soon growing excited at the thought of finally being wrapped in his embrace again. As much as you wanted to keep up the sexual banter; you came to the realization that Mark was only half naked. His dress shirt was soaked with sweat and his tie was flipped around the other way. He looked at you in confusion once you bursted in to a fit of laughter. 

“What’s so funny?”

“I hope you packed a few other dress shirts; you have cum stains all over the bottom.” He released a frustrated grunt before sticking his tongue out at you. 

“They’re all in my dirty laundry pile. I was planning on using this one for the rest of the week. See, even the more reason to come home tonight. I expect you on your hands and knees once I get home. As fun as it was watching you fuck yourself with your fingers through webcam, nothing compares to seeing the real thing in person. I think it’s time you go to bed, you’re going to need all the energy you can get for what I have in mind for the both of us. Sweet dreams baby, I’ll see you real soon.”

[dear-evanrosier]

Youtube Star (Muggle AU) (Parts 1-3)

Wednesday

Remus thought it was absolutely hilarious when the kids in his class were talking about the new video that Sirius Black had uploaded the day before, especially when one of them asked if he watched the latest. This specific set of questions had started when Remus had accidentally shown his screen saver- a selfie of him and Sirius, which Remus had taken right after making a corny joke, so Sirius was laughing in the photo- to a student while checking a text from said husband. It had sparked so many rumors that he still got bombarded with questions, and the slip up was over three months ago.

"So, Mr.Lupin did you watch Sirius Black's new video? He uploaded one last night!"

Yeah, I spent three hours helping him edit it and pick out the topic.

"No, I don't watch his content."

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

"Turns out Sirius Black is married! Did you know that?"

Yeah, I was the one who put his ring on.

"Nope, that's very cool. Now do your work."

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

"Did you go to his meet and greet in London last week?"

Yeah, I was backstage for ten hours waiting for him to finish talking to all of you.

"No, I went to the park."

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

He ended up having to change the lock screen so the students wouldn't try to go through his phone. He was just lucky none of his students had noticed the ring on his right finger matched the one shown on accident multiple times in some of Sirius' videos. He knew if the students found out then they would never get any work done, so Sirius agreed to keep it a secret.

That is until one morning Remus frogot his lunch at their house, and he only has twenty minutes to eat but their house is thirty minutes away. He decided to go without it, not wanting to make his students miss the test they had the next class. The period ended and he checked his phone, noticing a text sent almost fourty minutes ago.

Sirius❤-You left your lunch at home, can't have my Moony starving. I'll bring it over there.

He rubbed his face with one hand and listened outside, realizing the hall was louder than usual and there was laughter along with a heavy clacking sound that he knew belonged to the black combat boots of his husband.

"Who's that bag for?" Came from the hall, quite muffled due to the wooden door and chattering students.  He stood up and stretched, and walked over to the door, opening it slowly.

He immediately spotted the thick black curls down to the shoulders, wearing Remus' favorite outfit. Plain black jeans that hugged his legs, a chain dangling from one of the belt loops to the closest pocket, and one of Remus' dark green jumpers over top. The black hem of a band t-shirt just visible under the v-neck. He was also wearing a tad bit of eyeliner, which made Remus think he was even hotter. He was taking pictures with the students lining up in front of Remus' door, waiting for their next lesson with him. At the sound of the door opening, Sirius looked away from the camera and spotted the fluffy sandy colored hair and freckles covering his husband's face. He took the picture, muttered an "Excuse me." and ducked from underneath the outstretched student's hand. He walked past the rest of the line up to Remus, who was blushing terribly and had an eyebrow raised. "Yes, Black?" He inquired, and Sirius snorted.

"That's Lupin-Black to you, love." He replied, and placed a soft kiss on Remus' lips. Remus put a hand on his cheek and let the kiss last a second longer before he pulled away and gestured to the shocked expressions across the students' faces. "You know they had a test today, right?"

Sirius smiled and shook his head. "You did not tell me that. Sorry, love." He kissed Remus again and lifted up his hands, showing a paper bag with 'Moony❤' on the front. Remus rolled his eyes affectionately and took the bag. "Thanks, love." He looked back at the students. "I think you broke them," Remus told Sirius, who also turned around to look at the students' faces.

All of the kids who followed or knew of Sirius had their mouths open almost comically. Sirius let out a bark of laughter and turned back to Remus. "What, did you take your ring off?" Remus shook his head and held up his hand, showing Sirius that he still had on his identical ring. A student gasped and grabbed both of their hands, comparing the rings. "You alright there, Lavander?" Remus asked, and the bell rang. Sirius went to leave but the students wouldn't let him, blocking him from leaving the hall. The students in Remus' class ushered the two into the room, not giving them a chance to leave.

It wasn't that big of a shock that they were gay. Both of them had been public about it, actually. Remus wore little pins with pride flags on his jumpers often and would hand them out if a student asked. And Sirius' video with him coming out had gotten well over 10 million views. It was just the fact that their soft academia teacher who liked books, tea, minimal social contact, wearing oversized jumpers, and poems is married to the complete opposite. A grunge YouTuber who loved coffee, wearing band shirts and chains, adored being in the spotlight, and always had on some form of makeup.

After they had practically forced the door closed and sat in their assigned seats, Remus' couldn't help but chuckle. "I must say, this is the most focused I have seen them all year." Sirius laughed and sat on the edge of the teachers' desk, till Remus lightly pushed him off. He hopped off and eyed Remus. "Ok, where do you suppose I sit then?" He asked, and Remus got a cheeky grin, gesturing to an empty student seat in the front row.  "I am twenty-seven, not fourteen." Sirius scowled but took the seat, the students' eyes following him because Sirius Black, a youtube star, is in our classroom and is now sitting five feet from us.

Remus called their attention to the front of the room, but the students still glanced over a Sirius every few moments. "Ok, if we can get through this lesson, we can spend the last twenty minutes of class questioning my husband and me but only if you take some notes. I'll push your test back to tomorrow." A few of the students clapped, and Sirius did too, earning an eye roll and a shhh from Remus. Sirius chuckled but remained quiet during the class because he knew how much teaching meant to Remus. The kids still stole looks at Sirius whenever they could manage, but he kept his eyes on Remus the entire time, enjoying the sparkle he got whenever Remus did something he loved, not just teaching.

The class was surprisingly focused. Remus expected them to not shut up, but it was the complete opposite. Every eye was on him, but he was avoiding a specific set that normally would not be in there. He knew they were probably turning back to Sirius when he wrote something on the board. He ended up being done with the notes in only twenty minutes, giving them half an hour to question them. "Ok, we're done with notes. You can start asking questions."

The students began immediately. There were so many and they were so loud neither adult could make out the words except for few parts.

"Can-"

"Video-"

"Star-"

"Ring-" And that was basically all they could hear.

Sirius got up from where he was sitting and moved back to the teachers' desk, and didn't get shoved off this time. Instead, Remus came over and sat next to him. While the students were shooting their rapid-fire questions, Sirius turned and whispered in Remus' ear, "How often are they like this?" Remus whispered back, "Only when they talk about you, so I'd say all the time." Sirius just chuckled in response. The kids had stopped asking questions by then, so they were just staring at them while they had their short, whispered conversation. "Ok, since you guys stopped asking questions, please ask one at a time," Remus asked, and the students began the questions, just slower.

"Can you post a video so everyone knows?"

"Is his the voice the one in videos from a different room?"

"Since when did you like youtube stars?"

"How come you never showed us your ring?"

"How long have you been married?"

"Forget that, how long have you been together?"

And a lot more. After they stopped talking again, Remus and Sirius began answering questions.

"We've been together for twelve years, married for eight," Sirius told them, and a couple of kids swore because he started making videos ten years ago and nobody realized that he was married for the majority of that time. "How come you didn't mention it?!" A girl from the back shouted, and Sirius chuckled. The two kept answering questions until they got to the last one. "Are you going to make a video making it public?" One boy asked, and the two adults glanced at each other. "Er, I don't know. It's up to Remus, really." Sirius told them, then checked his watch. He jumped off the desk quickly. "Shit, I have to go. I have that meeting in about ten minutes." He placed a chaste kiss on his lips, then waved to the students. He opened the door, waved one last time to Remus, and left. The students in class turned expectantly to Remus, but they didn't get a chance to speak because the bell rang. It was the end of the day since it was an early let out.

A few of the kids in the school who drove managed to get pictures of Sirius on his motorbike, waving at them before he sped off, none of them knowing what he was doing there.

When Sirius got home two hours later, Remus was sitting on the couch, reading a book. After a small discussion, they went to bed, excited for the next day.

Friday

"Quiet down! Quiet down, everyone!" Remus began the class, attempting to call attention to the rowdy group of kids. After they all stopped talking, Remus began his speech. "Since you, all got great marks yesterday, you can have a free day today. Do whatever you like, just stay in your seats and please remain quiet." He sat down at his desk, leaving the students to their own devices. A girl stood up and walked to the front of the room where Remus's desk was. He looked up when she was standing next to him.

"Can I help you, Lavander?" He asked, and she smiled. "Actually, professor, I was hoping I could play a video on your computer?" She asked. Remus, who already knew what video she wanted to play, agreed. She searched up the video titled 'Introducing... My Amazing Husband!' and paused it before it started, turning back to the class. "Have any of you seen this yet?" She asked, and everybody shook their heads. "Good."  She pressed play and sat down, every eye on the projected screen.

Sirius was in his normal chair, his hair in a bun and wearing an oversized jumper and multiple rings on his fingers, giving a mixed vibe. "Ok. It's on. Hi guys! So yesterday, I went to visit my husband at work so I could drop off the lunch he forgot. He does that often."

"No, I don't!" A muffled voice came from behind the closed door, and Sirius snickered and swiveled his chair to face the door as he cupped a hand over his mouth. "Whatever you say, Moony!" He called back before turning his chair again to look at the camera.

"Anyways, I brought him his lunch and his students found out. So when I got home from a meeting later that night, we talked a little. And did more."

"Sirius!" Another muffled shout. Sirius just laughed in response. "Ok, ok! But my dear husband has decided that he is okay with everyone knowing who he is. So, will you come in here, love?"

The door opened to reveal Remus, standing in plaid pajama pants and cropped band shirt hanging just above the waistband of his pants. Sirius eyed him as he came into the room, sitting in Sirius' lap.

"Did you really have to wear my crop top? You know it distracts me." Sirius told him, wrapping his arms around Remus' waist. "Yes. Yes, I did. It's payback for when you wore it and you knew I had to grade papers." Remus responded, and Sirius let out a short bark of laughter. "Fine."

He looked at the camera again, gesturing to the man in his lap. "So, this is my husband. And I wanted to show some videos of a younger us, which Remus has agreed to show. Isn't that right, dear?" Remus nodded and Sirius pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Please be warned that there is some blood in a couple of these videos, I just figured I should tell you in case that stuff freaks you out," Sirius explained.

The footage changed, showing the two as teens, seventeen at the oldest. It was light out and looked to be around summertime. Both were only wearing swimming shorts. Sirius' were dark green and Remus' was a light blue. There was a large tattoo of the star constellation, Sirius, over his heart and the alchemy symbol for water on his right bicep. Remus had phases of the moon tatted on the inside of his right forearm.  They were standing on a roof, the footage shot from the ground. "Jump! Jump, Sirius, jump!" The cameraman yelled, and Sirius nodded enthusiastically while tying his long hair into a bun using the scrunchie on his wrist.

"Of course! You know I always will!" Remus grabbed his hand as soon as he let go of his hair, yelling back. "Absolutely not, James! I don't care if it's onto a trampoline, he will not be jumping off a roof! Peter didn't, so neither will he." Sirius gave a mischievous glance towards the camera then back to Remus, whose eyes widened.

He quickly tried to free his grasp, but Sirius clenched his hand tightly. "No, no no! Sirius Black, I swear on Merlin's saggy tits if you-" his promise was cut short by his own screaming. Sirius ran off the roof at a sprint, dragging Remus with him. The camera followed them as best as possible considering how fast they were falling.

Their hands broke free when they landed, and Sirius bounced away, almost falling off the edge of the trampoline had he not grabbed the metal. He climbed back over and jumped over to Remus, who was laying on his back in the middle. He rolled over him, pushing himself up by his legs and arms overtop of Remus. "Ok there, Rem?" He asked, and Remus huffed, staring away from Sirius.

"No! You could have bloody well killed me!" Sirius laughed and shook his head. "No, I couldn't have. It's barely a ten-foot jump. You've done worse." Remus huffed again and crossed his arms to the best of his ability since Sirius was still hovering over him. Sirius changed his position, moving his legs so he was basically sitting on top of Remus. He used one hand to cup Remus' cheek and force him to look him in the face. "You fell for me." Remus smiled slightly and cupped Sirius' cheek back. "Why, I suppose I did. But that didn't have a bad consequence, so I don't really see how that's worse." Sirius ignored the last bit and brought his face down to Remus' kissing him, who eagerly kissed back. A boy with brown hair jumped over them, causing them to bounce away from each other, and Remus really did fall off the edge.  

Sirius got over there as fast as possible, jumping off the trampoline. James followed him on the ground. Sirius was helping up Remus, who was holding his face with a hand. It looked like he had hit his face into a nearby lawn chair, which had blood on the leg. "Please, let me see." Sirius pleaded with him, and Remus winced as he pulled his hand away, exposing the wound. The large gash went from his left jaw diagonally up to the bridge of his nose. It was an angry red but the color was almost purple around the edges and bled freely.

"Peter! Get the car! We have to go to the hospital!" Sirius called, and Remus put the hand back over his face. The boy with light brown hair ran past the camera to the cars, apologizing over and over. And the camera changed scenes.

Now it was dark out, the stars lighting up the night sky along with fairy lights strung up. The people there were dressed in fancy dresses or long-sleeved collared shirts and slacks. One woman had red hair tied into an elegant bun, adorned with pins that sparkled, had on a wedding dress that was to the floor and flowy. The bodice was covered in jewels that shone when the light reflected off of them. She was dancing with an eighteen-year-old Sirius.

"You really do look beautiful, Lily," Sirius told her before spinning her around and dipping her. She giggled and replied with a "And so do you, Sirius." They kept dancing for a moment until Lily looked away and then quickly turned back to him. "So?" She asked, and Sirius raised an eyebrow. "So what?"

Lily rolled her eyes and gestured to two guys dancing, one in a tux and one wearing black slacks a light blue collared shirt. The one in a tux had glasses and unruly black hair that looked like it had a bad attempt at flattening it. The man in the blue shirt had a large scar across his cheek from his jaw to his nose and freckles covering his face. His soft honey-colored hair was fluffy and hanging over his face. They seemed to be laughing and having fun as they spun each other around. "When are you going to propose to Remus?" She asked, and Sirius stopped for a moment before he continued the small patterned dance.

"How did you know about that?" It was in a hushed tone, but the camera still picked it up. "I was in your flat getting the planner that James left, and I found it when I looked in the couch cushions. Turned out the book was under your bed." She was practically laughing as she told him, purely because of the shocked face. "Besides, it's not like it's a big secret, anyway. You give him this look every time you see him, and he does the same. I'm surprised he hasn't proposed to you yet." Sirius contemplated her words for a moment and offered a small smile. "Thanks, Lils. Oh! I think James wants to dance with you." He nodded his head behind her at the man with black hair.

He held out his hand to Lily and bowed. "Can I have this dance, my dear wife?" Lily giggled and freed herself from Sirius' arms, taking his hand. "Why you can, my dear husband." James chuckled and led her away from Sirius. Remus took her spot, resting his head on Sirus' shoulder as Sirius put both hands on Remus' waist. "Hello, love. Enjoying the wedding?" Sirius asked, and Remus shrugged.

"No matter how many times James said he would marry her, I never actually thought it would happen," Remus spoke freely, and Sirius laughed at the bluntness. "I don't blame you. It took him six years for a date, and I was worried he would screw something up at one point." Sirius responded, then caught sight of the camera on them, and his eyes widened. He murmured something to Remus and let go, walking to the camera.

"Peter! How much did you get?" Sirius asked, staring straight at them. "Almost all of your dance with Lily." The person behind the camera responded, and Sirius groaned and ran a hand through his hair, glancing back at Remus. "Please don't show this to Remus, I don't know when I'm going to do it, and I definitely don't want Remus to find out because you showed him this video." Peter spoke again, "Of course not, Sirius. I wouldn't want to ruin your plan."  "Thanks, Petey." Sirius flashed a grateful smile then walked back to Remus, spinning him around twice before dipping him and kissing him madly.

The screen changed again, showing young kids all wearing black shorts and white t-shirts, holding water guns. It looked like James, Lily, Peter, Remus, and Sirius in a line, in that order. They looked to be about fifteen and were standing in a large grassy field, a large stone manor off to the side. "Mum, are you recording?" A young James asked and someone out of shot responded. "Yes, hun. Am I going to be recording this entire thing?" James nodded eagerly and started talking. "Ok, I don't know if this will ever be put somewhere public, but we're recording this because we want to. Maybe we can show our future kids. Eh, Evans?" He turned to the redhead next to him and she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Really, Potter? I'm only here for Remus, and that's cause he's almost my brother. I am not here for your terrible attempts to get a date." She huffed and moved in between Remus and Peter to escape James. "Alright, I'll leave you alone. But anyway, it is our dear Remus' birthday and being the genius that he is, came up with the best idea for us to do. Tie-dye war!" He held the water gun above his head, the dark liquid sloshing around inside.

"All of our water guns are filled with a different tie-dye color. So we are going to put these goggles on so we don't get any in our eyes- Sirius will you get the goggles?" Sirius walked off-screen, coming back a moment later and passing out the goggles.  He returned to his spot in line and snapped his own pair on. "So. How this works is we just shoot each other until everyone is colored. The person at the end of the game who has the whitest shirt gets to give each one of us a dare later tonight when it gets dark and we set up a fire. Does everyone agree?" James looked down the line and got smiles and nods from everyone. "Ok, then. Mum, on the count of three?" He looked toward the camera as he said it, and the woman behind it immediately started the countdown.

"Three... Two... One... GO!!"

All of them took off, running in different directions trying to hide. Remus, before taking off, managed to shoot each of them with a long stripe down their backs, so that if they stood in a line you could see it. He ran to the side, hiding behind a large tree out so the camera didn't see him. There was a loud shriek, however. Remus ran out from behind the tree, Sirius following right behind him, shooting him with the gun so his back had turned into splatters of navy blue. Remus ran behind a large rock, out of Sirius' view. So he turned his attention to Lily, who was standing near a mound of wildflowers. Her eyes widened almost comically wide, and Sirius aimed for her shirt.

As he shot the dye, Lily was shoved out of the way by James, "Noooooooo." whose front was now almost completely blue as he laid in the grass. Lily knelt down beside him. "Why are you so dramatic?" She placed a kiss on his cheek then ran off, leaving him to be attacked by Remus, who had now left his place from behind the rock to take his turn at the sitting duck. No one noticed Peter and Lily from behind the trees, sneaking up on the group. Then they yelled, "CHARGE!!" and everything was fair game. Hot pink and navy blue and dark green and pastel blue and mint green were flying through the air, all of the colors landing on the others. Well, on most of the others. When the game was finished, Remus had won with his shirt only partly covered in color, the majority of his front was white. The others were completely covered in a mix of colors, hardly any white spots.

They stood back in the line, eyeing Remus with jealousy as James' mother declared him the winner.

TW: Mentions of Child abuse, blood

It was dark again, and they all had blankets wrapped around them, huddling in front of a fire. The camera shifted a bit then was still. "James, honey. I'm going inside to make sure dinner is done, your father will be home soon. The camera is set up in that chair so it can see you all. Don't do anything too reckless." The woman's voice was back. James smiled and looked above the camera. "Thanks, mum. I love you." "Love you too, James."

"OK, since I won, I get to give you each dares!" Remus bounced to his feet and the others groaned. "Should have known you were going to win, mate. You're too smart for your own good." Remus chuckled at Peter's remark and walked around the circle, eyeing them as he passed. He stopped in between Lily and James, smirking at them. Lily's smile dropped. "Remus Lupin I swear to Merlin if you do what I think you're going to do-"

"Oh, don't worry Lily. This is in your favor. Kind of." He waved her off with his hand. "Lily, I dare you to kiss James." Lily looked shocked, and James was elated. She stuttered, and Remus bent down to whisper something in her ear. He stood back up and smiled, but Lily only returned a glare. "Fine. I'll do it." She stood up and took a step closer to James, pecked his lips for less than five seconds, and sat back down. James had a large grin on his face, as did Remus.

"Ok, James. Your turn. I dare you to not ask Lily out for two months." James' grin fell and Sirius roared with laughter at his face. James glared at Remus and huffed. "Ok, then. Only cause it's your birthday. And cause it's getting a little old." Remus' grin spread and he walked back to Peter. "I know you don't like anybody, so I'm giving you something different. Jump off the tree. The small one, of course. I don't want you getting hurt." Remus motioned to the short tree next to them, and Peter stood up, dropping the blanket on the ground where he was.

He walked over slowly, climbing up as high as he could, which was only about four feet off the ground since it was a small tree. "You'll be fine, Petey!" Sirius called at his hesitation, and he yelled back, "Ok!" before jumping off. He rolled once he reached the ground, spinning once or twice before he stopped, sitting on his knees. He held his head for a moment before staggering up and back to his spot on the ground. Sirius clapped him on the back and looked to Remus, who sat beside him.

"Ok, Remmy boy. What's my dare?" Sirius asked, and Remus put a  hand on his chin in mock contemplation. "Kiss me." It was clear what he said, but Sirius still exclaimed in shock. "What?" Remus stumbled over his words at the reaction but stopped the moment Sirius grabbed the top of his shirt and smashed their mouths together roughly, getting catcalls and wolf whistles from the other three. Sirius pulled apart, breathing heavily and still holding onto his shirt.  "Was that a good dare?" Remus asked, and Sirius responded by kissing him again.

The footage changed once again. The room was filled with candles and it looked romantic. Sirius was standing in a white button-down and black slacks, his hair neatly parted. "Remus, can you come in here for a moment, love?" Sirius called, and a voice came from behind the door. "Just a minute, Siri! I'm making dinner!"

"This is more important than dinner!"

"Fine, fine!"

Remus came into the room, wearing just a jumper and jeans. He looked around at the candles, breathless. "Holy shit, Pads. This is amazing." He stepped forward cautiously, making sure to not knock any over. He looked Sirius up and down before practically jumping on him and kissing him madly. After a moment he put his feet back on the floor, still holding onto Sirius' shoulders and their foreheads together. "This is so beautiful, Sirius. I don't deserve this."

"You deserve the world, Remus. That's why I did this. And also so I could teach you to dance." He moved them into a waltz position, one hand holding onto Remus' hand and the other on his hip. Remus copied the position. "I know I suck, but why teach me?" Sirius chuckled and began the movements with no music. "We may need it someday. You never know." He placed a kiss on his nose and spun him, making a candle knock over. But it didn't catch on fire. Sirius took note of the shocked face and chuckled. "The ones on the floor are fake, I know how clumsy you are."

The footage changed once more, with a Sirius sitting in front of the camera and adjusting it, his dark hair curtaining his face. "Love, what are you doing?" Remus's tired voice came from behind, and Sirius finished with the camera, backing up and sitting next to Remus on a light blue couch, grabbing his hand. Both were sitting in Christmas pajamas and a tree was in the background, the colorful lights standing out against the grey walls. It had to be the previous Christmas or the one before since both men looked almost the exact same.

"Sirius, it is eight-thirty in the morning. I want to go to sleep. So, please, tell me what I'm doing so I can pass out until we have dinner with Peter, James, Lily, and Harry. I'm quite sure Marlene and Dorcas are going to come. And there's no doubt that Lily invited Frank and Alice, who are going to bring Neville. So that's seven other adults and two children. I need energy for this bullshit."

Sirius chuckled, kissing Remus' hand quickly. "Yes, love. I know. But I wanted to film a video while I had the idea. And I won't even think of posting it till you're comfortable with being out." Sirius smiled at Remus, who rolled his eyes. "Fine. What this amazing idea you had to wake me up for."

Sirius let go of Remus' hand to turn around and pick up a notepad that was sitting on a table just behind the couch. "Terrible pick-up lines." He grinned, and Remus groaned, grabbing a throw pillow and pressing it over his face. "Do you really have to? On this Holy day?"

His voice was muffled by the pillow, which just made Sirius chuckled again.

"Yes. You know I'm an atheist. So come one then, love. It'll be fun."

Remus took the pillow off his face, grumbling, "Tell me why I married you again."

"Because I'm handsome and you love me." Sirius grinned, and Remus grumbled something the camera didn't pick up. But it was enough to turn Sirius a tad bit pink. "Well yes, that too. But anyways."

Remus smiled at his flustered husband and looked at the camera, eyebrow raised. "So are you just going t say random pick-up lines, or are they all Christmas themed?"

Sirius shrugged, running over the list. "Little of both. I just wanted to see your reaction to some of these, considering you don't get embarrassed easily."

"I probably will since one, it's you and I'm one hundred percent sure that at least three-quarters of those are going to be dirty, and two it's on camera so you will definitely be using this against me in the future."

"Nah. Only half of them are dirty. So, can I start asking them?"

"Fire away, love."

Sirius smiled and kissed Remus quickly, then pulled his finger down the line until he found one that made him smirk. Remus' own smiled dropped lightly, trying the read the list upside down before Sirius pulled it away quickly. "Tch. Nope."

Remus groaned again and Sirius smiled before reading one of the lines.

"Good thing I have my library card, cause I'm checking you out."

He added a wink to the end of the line, and Remus shook his head.

"I sure hope you do, considering we're married."

Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly and huffed before reading the next.

"You stole my heart, so can I steal your last name?

ubnbnubnnu9n9ubn9ne9uvnvnfsvns9nsfubnfb

Now James was holding the camera, trying to set it up on an unseen object. Remus was behind him, shaking his head.

"Let me do that, James. I usually help Sirius so I know how to do it."

"Sure. Knock yourself out, Remmy boy."

Remus rolled his eyes at the nickname and moved in front of the camera, only taking a few more seconds to put it in place. He moved back and sat next to a huffing James.

"I did most of it."

"Sure you did, James."

He huffed again and leaned back on the couch, stretching out. The full extent of the room was open, and it was beautiful.

A large ornate crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling above the sleek leather couch the two sat on. A large cabinet with no doors behind them was full of framed photos of James and an older woman and man, smiling at the camera. A few had Sirius in them, arm slung over James shoulder amd smiling widely. More frames lined the walls of the large room, some paintings and some pictures of James and his friends.

"James, what are we doing?" Remus asked after a moment of the other doing nothing.

"My dear Remus, we are going to-"

James cut off abruptly, turning his hesd to look at something off screen.

"Did someone knock at the door?" Remus asked, and James nodded, getting up and walking out of frame. A small squek signaled the door opening, before James shouted.

"Sirius! Oh my god, what the fuck happened to you?!"

Remus jumped up and also ran off camera, coming back with James half dragging a bloody Sirius between them. They set him on the couch and he winced and cried out, his injures fully  exposed to the camera.

A large cut ran from the corner of his lip to under his eye, similar to one of Remus' s scars and still bleeding a little. His lip was busted and swollen, along with a black eye. He tried sitting up and cried out again, clutching his side in a way that suggested he broke a few of his ribs.

"Sirius, what happenened?" James repeated, and Remus held a hand out to stop him.

"Hold on, James."

He bent down, taking one of Sirius' hands into both of his own. The other was still clutching his waist.

"Sirius, I need you to tell me what happened, ok? Will you tell me?"

He let out a broken sob and leaned forward, trying to put his head on Remus' shoulder, instead yelling out once more and falling back on the couch, panting and wincing every few seconds.

"Shh, baby. Please tell me."

He lifted Sirius' hand to his mouth, kissing it gently out of the view of the camera.

"She found the letters."

It wasn't much, but Remus visibly paled when Sirius said it.

"What does he mean? Remus?" James was looking between the two, face caught in a worried expression. Remus turned to him, lip caught between his teeth.

"We wrote letters back and forth instead of texting. His mother found them."

James paled too, and walked closer to the couch.

"James, the camera. Get the camera. We'll have to show this tape to the court."

Remus stood up, placing a gentle kiss to Sirius' forehead and leaving the room while James walked quickly towards the screen, looking angry amd scared all at the same time.

It went back to just Sirius.

"I am so sorry, I did not know that taoe was in there. I apolgize if I have triggered something for any of you."

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: JUYEON

Genre: romantic smut or whatever you call a romantic version of having sex + drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

A/N: *IMPORTANT* i wrote this chapter whilst communicating with a part of my history that has caused both physical and emotional trauma to me. right now, i’m a safe mixture of upset/depressed/on the verge of a break down and it’s definitely going to show in my work, so i apologise if it doesn’t turn out well/uncomfortable. 

Links to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

Stigma

Bourbon

~

“you want to run from being a chaebol? that’s fine.” 

“but know that you can’t run from me.”

“do you have any suites available?” juyeon holds you behind him, and it takes you awhile to understand what was happening. your fingers were tightly interlocked with his, and you could feel something burning in your abdomen.

maybe it was the realisation that there was nothing that could tear you away from him, and the way he fueled your assurance gave you a sense of security you don’t think you’ve ever felt before.

he’s defended you in the face of his mother, chose you over an engagement with another chaebol, and gave you the love you never received from your mother.

you wonder if he was only doing it because he knew you were a chaebol.

but he didn’t. 

not until an hour ago.

“yes, sir, we have the king, deluxe and premium suite. the premium suite comes with a city view and it’s on the top floor.”

he’s definitely going for that last one.

“the premium suite please,” he pulls out his wallet and takes out a black and silver card. the receptionist takes it with such grace, and you remember the last time you touched a black and silver card. 

you hurled it back at your parents and ran out the door the night they gave it to you.

keeping that stupid card meant accepting your chaebol role, and that was not going to happen. 

juyeon gets the door open, and he closes it by gently pushing you against it, lips connecting with yours without hesitation. your hands find the lining of the blazer and you begin pushing it off his shoulder, but he gets the deed done even before you realise it. 

he pulls away and lowers his head into your neck, but you stop him abruptly, and he looks up at you with worried eyes, the lust and need disappearing in an instant.

“oh, nothing’s wrong baby,” you chuckle softly, pecking him on the lips. “your... little marks haven’t healed in two days and i had to put concealer to hide them. i wouldn’t want you to eat up that shit,” you push against his chest and help yourself into the bathroom. 

it wasn’t as pretty as his bathroom, and you suddenly can’t remember seeing any other bathroom that’s as impressive as his. 

juyeon pouts a little, picking up his blazer from the ground and hanging it somewhere, a tad bit annoyed that you broke off the momentum just because you didn’t want him to ingest concealer. 

by the time you clean the concealer off, the collar rim of your dress was already wet and you’ve lost all the need to get it on with juyeon. you couldn’t help but to laugh while you watch him sit idly on the single seater chair, scrolling through his phone. 

“i’m sorry for ruining the moment,” you stroll over, gathering your gown material high enough for you to lift your leg over him and straddle his lap. 

“i’d be pissed, but i can’t if you were just worried about me swallowing your concealer, can i?” he grins, tracing the circumference of your waist with his arms. you expect him to kiss you and pick up the pace from there, but instead, he presses his head on your chest, ear against your cleavage. 

he’s never hugged you like this before, but the warmth his hold provides you naturally cues you to wrap your arms around his neck. you twirl his hair around your fingers, leaning your chin on the crown of his head. 

“can i tell you something, but you gotta swear not to tell anybody else?” you hear him say, the movement of his jaw pressing against your chest. 

you laugh, leaning backwards and brushing his fringe out of his forehead. “what, you killed someone?”

he scoffs, eyes halving into little crescents as he reaches up and tucks your hair behind your ear. 

“i told your mother that you were my fiance not because i wanted to hide the fact that your mother was the director, but because i wanted her approval.”

you feel the smile disappear off your lips, desperately trying to search his face for any hint of mischief that he was messing with you.

“...huh?” your mind was completely blank while your supposed law-abled brain feels like it’s being dragged across a minefield. juyeon’s eyes never leave yours, his hands now trailing along the edges of your ear and your jaw.

there was no hint of lust or need, and if you could see love, that was what you were looking at right now. 

“stay with me forever,” his hands leave your jaw and find your hands. “i know it’s been like two days since i asked you to be my girlfriend, but...”

he plants a kiss on the back of your hand. 

“i can’t pretend you’re not the best thing that’s happened to me.”

it’s another one of his speeches.

“just last friday, you saw through me, and the entire time after that prior to today, i simply saw you as a capable lawyer, and someone i needed to protect and keep close... but after finding out you are a chaebol...”

oh, no.

“i now know you are more of a person than i ever was. you had the guts and determination to run away from a life that most people would want, and you treat everything you see with care and caution. not to mention my house staff who consistently made fun of me the weekend for bringing home such a nice girl, as compared to my ‘cold’ complexity.”

the smile returns to your lips and you feel your heart melt into a puddle of goop. 

“you are the person i need in my life, and i don’t think i’ll be able to reach the version of myself i want without your help.”

you inhale sharply, hands reaching for his cheek and his hands follow yours. 

“can i tell you something too, but you promise not to tell anybody else?” you cock your head to the side, noticing him tilting his head into your palm and nodding. 

“you talk too much.”

a chuckle escapes his lips and it warms you to see him smile. he finds your lips and kisses you so slowly, so sensuously, that you don’t recognise it. 

“i love you.”

you feel tears collect in the corners of your eyes, and the words naturally roll off your tongue in response to his confession.

“i love you too.”

you feel him smile into the kiss, your heads tilted the opposite direction while he picks you up and walks over to the bed. your back hits the soft mattress, and he leans over you, arms supporting himself as the mattress around your head sinks. 

he starts kissing you again as his hand pulls up the gown, trying to find your skin. your fingers start fiddling with the buttons on his dress shirt, and you start undoing them slowly. 

his touch was so gentle and careful compared to the session in his bathroom, and you feel the love and affection he has for you ooze out through his fingertips and over your skin, the sensation causing your skin to crawl all over your body. 

you arch your back when his hands try to go under you in attempt to find the zipper of your dress, and he dips his nose into your collarbones and the remnants of his marks. 

you feel the wrap around your torso loosening, and he pushes it off your skin, exposing all the fading bruises that he left on you. 

he takes a second to admire his fading artwork, as if contemplating if he should make more. 

you finally get his dress shirt undone, and he lets you pull it off, exposing his arms and the veins that lined his skin. 

“you’re too hot for my own good, lee juyeon.”

his lips find the skin of your cleavage, sucking on a spot that wasn’t already painted. with one hand still supporting himself, his free hand gets rid of your gown and he tosses it aside, leaving you only in your lingerie. 

the sight of your bare skin and the marks on your chest and neck sends him over an edge, and he roughly lifts you from the mattress by the waist. you feel your head land on a pillow and he fits his hips between your knees, hands reaching to your back and undoing your bra. 

“also,” your words leave your lips sounding like a moan as he gets your bra off and begins sucking on your tip. “please don’t make me beg like the previous time. i haven’t really--” you arch your back at the sensation of his tongue around your sensitive tip while his left hand fondles with your other breast. 

“restored my pride yet--” 

you begin to mewl and whine under him, and your hands recklessly find his belt, mindlessly yanking on it just to get it loose.

“i liked it when you beg though, especially now that i know your last name is technically worth more than mine... there’s a kick to that,” he breathes against your skin before pulling backwards and sitting on his heels, undoing his belt between your knees. the angle gives you a perfect view of his toned body, and your feasted your eyes on the way his pants hugged his thighs while he leaned back. 

oh, good god, what a sight.

“so what if my last name is worth more than yours? i’m pretty sure you’ve earned more money for your family than i have anyway,” you wrap your arm over your chest, watching him get his pants off. the view of the contours of his hips dipping under his boxers creates butterflies in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than for him to prove his love for you. 

“you really have no clue how that works,” he gives you a low chuckle, crawling back towards you and resting some of his body weight on your pelvis. his growing manhood was pressing against your inner thigh as he hungrily but gently tastes you, hands caressing your waist and fingers slipping under the only piece of clothing you had on. 

he leaves light kisses on your collarbone, chest and stomach, trailing his way south as his fingers drag your underwear off your hips. you feel the cold air hit your already wet core, and juyeon doesn’t bother to say anything to rile you up.

your voice comes out strained and it probably sounded like you were in pain when he presses his tongue flat against your heat. digging your fingers into the sheets, you feel his hands press down on your thighs to keep your legs apart. 

he fits a finger into you, then two, with his tongue circling around your sensitive nub. the sensation rids your head of any coherent thought, and you find yourself arching your back and your hips shivering against the mattress. 

he pulls away, sticking his fingers into his mouth and makes you watch. the sight doesn’t do much besides make you want him even more. your eyes find the tent on his groin, and it cues you to start tugging on the rim on his pelvis, desperately trying to get rid of the material.

he senses your urgency, and does it for you, giving you the perfect view of his length. you realise you haven’t actually seen it because the first time you slept with him, he fucked you from the back on his couch. the second time he was already buried inside you before he completely ruined you in his bathroom. 

seeing it for yourself with a clear mind ironically makes you lose all sense of thought. 

“that’s what you’re staring at... after you let me ruin you two times over?” his low voice rumbles into your neck, and his hands find yours to interlock your fingers. 

“i’d spend all my free time staring at you if i could,” a moan runs out of your throat when you feel him right at the entrance of your core. you feel his weight pressing into your palms on the mattress on either side of your head. 

“gladly,” he smiles into your skin. he looks up back at you with soft eyes, and the lack of lust surprises you. 

he’s not going to ruin you today.

he was going to show you that he loved you.

you feel him push into you, and your voice disappears as you look up at the ceiling. he finds your lips and starts making out with you like high school lovers, hands on your hips and fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts into you. 

they weren’t harsh like you remembered them to be, and the thought of him making love to you created butterflies in your stomach. the heat inside you intensifies with each gentle thrust, and you hear his breathing start to become irregular by your ear. 

you eyes were closed, mouth held open as he keeps your hands pinned to the bed, and your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to push him deeper and deeper inside you. 

the room starts to fill with louder and harder breaths, every now and then a moan escapes from your lips that he seals with a kiss. 

you hear his breathing halt for a split second just as he thrusts into you, and you feel something inside start to snap as well.

“juyeon, i’m gonna--”

“me too--” he groans into your ear, his pace picking up as the both of you mindlessly chase your high. “can i--”

“do it.”

he lifts himself to look at you in the eye for a moment, his hips not showing any signs of slowing down. 

“do it, juyeon.”

your approval gives him one last push, and you feel him all over your walls inside you. your wetness mixed with his as you huff and pant, your vision turned white while your body goes into a spasm. 

his grunts and growls help you ride out your high, his thrusts losing power and pace as he rides out his. 

finding your lips, he releases his hold on your hands and dig his fingers into your hair behind your ear. he holds your face as he lets himself finish inside you, and you could feel the load slowly seeping out of you and around his length. 

he presses his forehead on you, your pants hitting each other in your faces and a smile appears on his lips. 

“how’s that for a no-begging session?”

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

your eyes flutter open as the sleepy realisation that you didn’t jerk awake enters your mind. light was shining into the room, but it was raining outside and the soft pitter-patter of the rain drops encourage you not to freak out and wonder about the time.

it shouldn’t have mattered, but the rain does affect your decision. 

the blanket was pulled all the way up to your collarbone, and you feel your breasts against the soft material. you subtly shift your leg, and you realise you were only in your underwear. 

juyeon had helped you clean up and you spent nearly an hour with him in the bathtub, doing nothing but eat each other’s faces without having anymore sex. 

three times in five days was a little excessive. 

the only clothes the both of you had were your formal wear from the night before, so it wasn’t a curious case why the both of you were nearly fully naked and pressed against each other. 

you notice the weight of his arm on your waist over the blanket, so you turn carefully, trying not to wake him. 

your eyes trail along his forearm, up to his biceps and his shoulder. his chest disappears under the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to brush your thumb over his cheekbone. 

the thought of his mother knowing how often her son was having sex with someone he wasn’t even married to tickles a funny bone in you, and there was nothing that could stop you from feeling the pride and glory when you remember you were, by blood, a chaebol of a higher rank than him.

even if this love wasn’t real, you could’ve ordered him to be your fiance and they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

but because this is real, you didn’t want your relationship with him to be decided based on your family backgrounds. 

you could only picture how confused she would be if the two of you got married before she found out you were a chaebol. 

maybe then she’d believe your feelings for juyeon were true. 

she’d find some excuse and say she was worried you were some ‘normal’ girl digging for his wealth. she’d probably apologise, even. but the thought of it sickens you. 

why should it matter if you were a chaebol or not? it’s not like you identified as one. in fact, you were so good at hiding who you really were, even juyeon didn’t know until you told him. 

your thoughts come to screeching stop when you notice juyeon’s eyes shift under his lids. he sucks in a deep breath, smacking his lips and turning his head a little. 

his eyes finally open and meet yours, his hand going under the blanket and snaking around your bare waist to pull you in. 

“good morning, my love.”

Part 8: I Like Me Better

[smooshjames]

forget you not (epilogue)

‘cause we’ve come, we’ve come so far, oh, baby (or: a second chance)

word count: 4k

a/n: i finally got my butt in gear and wrote the epilogue of forget you not! i still don’t think i’m 100% happy with how it came out, but if i edit / re-write it any more my head will explode. a reminder that i didn’t write any of the songs mentioned in this story (they all belong to little mix). and here are the links to this chapter’s songs: x, x, x. while we’re on the topic of links, here’s one to my ko-fi in case you want to buy me a coffee. no pressure if you can’t (or just don’t want to), i’m just glad you guys take the time to read my work. i hope you enjoy, and thank you for all the overwhelming support, it means the world to me <3

warnings: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it angst (i couldn’t help myself), i think that’s it ?? this is just a lot of fluff and the happy ending we deserve

previous parts: one, two, three, four, five

You called exactly one week later.

It was around six o’clock (nine o’clock for you, Shayne noted). He had just gotten home from work and was contemplating what to have for dinner when his phone started buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket disinterestedly, figuring it was probably Damien or his mom. When he saw your name on his phone screen, however, his heart nearly stopped beating.

He took a deep breath and answered the call.

“Hey,” he said. He sounded mildly out of breath and hoped desperately that you wouldn’t notice. “What’s up?”

“I said I’d call,” you said. Your voice was shaky, your tone unsure. You were putting emphasis on all the wrong syllables. Shayne could picture you in his head; you on your couch in your nice New York apartment, dressed in something comfortable, a vision of natural beauty.

Shayne didn’t reply, just silently willed you to continue. He sat down on the couch.

“Um… it was fun. The sex, I mean.” There was a long pause. Shayne held his breath. “I would… next time one of us is in town, I think it would be good to hang out again. Maybe we can get to know each other again.” Another long pause. “Get to know each other like hanging out and talking, I mean, not like… not like wink-wink getting to know each other, not that I don’t want to have sex with you again, I just…” You stopped again, and he could practically see the grimace on your face. “Jesus, okay. I’m gonna stop talking now.”

Shayne grinned so wide he thought his face might get stuck that way.

“Okay,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Another pause, one which could have lasted three seconds or three years.

“I’m really glad we got to see each other again,” he said. He was careful to keep his tone light, decidedly avoiding any words that might send the I still love you vibe. He didn’t want to push the boat out on another chance with you too soon, but absence absolutely makes the heart grow fonder. There was a part of him that already had the color scheme for your wedding planned, a part of him that felt sure you’d give him a second chance. After all, you’d spent the night together, and now you were calling him back. That had to mean something, right?

But he knew, rationally, that you were still smarting from what had happened all those years ago, and he knew that you had every right to be. He figured you would want to take things slow.

And then, before his brain could really think about it, his mouth said: “I want… I really want to try again, if you… if you want to. I think we could do things right this time.”

So much for taking things slow.

There was another long silence. Shayne was almost certain his heart was going to pound out of his chest.

“I want to try again, too,” you said. Shayne felt his shoulder sag in relief. “I’ve missed you a lot. But, um, it’s late here and I worked all day. I should get ready for bed. I’ll have Michelle look at my schedule tomorrow and we can figure out a good time for me to fly back out there, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Shayne.”

The line went dead. Shayne sat back on his couch and stared up at his ceiling in wonder. A second chance. He couldn’t fucking believe it.

All he had to do now was get it right this time.

***

A month passed, and then two, and then six. You and Shayne flew from New York to LA and back more times than you could count. You squeezed texting, calling, and facetiming into every spare second. Shayne made himself endlessly available to you, and you did the same for him. You were constantly in trouble with Michelle for getting distracted during interviews and meetings and recording sessions. Rumors circulated that there was a man in your life, which, for a while, you didn’t confirm or deny.

You knew that you’d have to go public eventually, something you discussed with Shayne early on in your second attempt. You were both far more in the public eye now than you’d been five years ago, which meant people would put pieces together sooner than you wanted them to. Finally, after two months, the two of you decided it was time to call it official. Instagram posts went up, fans lost their minds, the comments of your Smosh video were dominated almost exclusively with references to you and Shayne.

At the four-month mark, you discussed moving out to LA permanently. You’d still be spending a lot of time apart while the band toured, but you would at least be able to go home to him full-time in between the months on the road.

Carly asked if it felt a little soon, and you told her it didn’t. If your first attempt at a relationship with Shayne had been more-or-less a strong one (save for the end), this attempt was iron-clad. Shayne had matured more than you ever could’ve hoped for. The years apart made him wiser, more willing to confront his feelings and his issues. And in your five years of being single, you had found something infinitely more valuable than a shiny new relationship: self-worth. You knew what you deserved, and a happy, loving relationship was one of those things. You no longer lived in fear of Shayne running off at the first sign of someone better than you. You were far more willing to fight for yourself and for your relationship. 

You spent a couple of months deliberating whether you’d move to LA. The time it took you to think was in part caused by some hesitation, but more than anything caused by the fact that the band was recording a new album. You couldn’t think about much of anything besides choruses and hooks and beats.

Your hang-ups about the move were more practical than anything; it wasn’t that you didn’t want to move, it was that cross-country moves were infamously stressful and problem-filled. Not to mention, the rest of the band still lived in New York, which might cause professional complications (and would most certainly cause personal heartache; you weren’t necessarily ecstatic about living almost 3,000 miles from your best friends).

You finally made the decision during a late-night, insomnia-induced facetime call. You called Shayne at four in the morning one night after tossing and turning for hours. He picked up on the third ring, and you could tell immediately that he had been asleep; his surroundings were completely blacked out, his face only visible from the light of his phone screen. He was squinting at the screen, face scrunched up in a way that made your heart swell with the urge to kiss him, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. And when he spoke, his voice was gruff with disuse.

“Hey,” he said. He didn’t seem the slightest bit upset at being woken up, but there was definite concern on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I’m sorry to wake you. I can’t sleep. I wanted to see you.”

If you lived in LA, whispered the ever-present voice in the back of your mind, you wouldn’t have to call him to see him. If you lived in LA, you’d be fast asleep in his arms right now.

Shayne hummed sympathetically and you heard the blankets rustling as he rolled over on his back. The angle was about as unflattering as it could have possibly been, but you didn’t care. In fact, you loved him all the more for it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. His words were just slightly slurred, like his tongue was still heavy from sleep. “What’s keeping you awake?”

You sighed and scrubbed a hand over your eyes. “I don’t really know,” you replied. “A lot of things, I guess. It’s been a couple of weeks since we saw each other last, so I’ve been trying to find a good time to fly out there, but I’m completely booked for the next few months. The new album has been kicking our asses and we’re nowhere near where we need to be if we’re gonna make the deadline, so we’ve been working all hours, which means everyone’s sleep schedules are completely fucked. I’m pretty sure Alexis and Piper are still at the studio right now.”

He hummed low in his throat again, nodding slowly. There was a moment where he seemed to be debating which part of your speech to address first. “Well, don’t worry too much about flying out. You know I love seeing you in person, but I don’t want making time for me to be too stressful for you. I’m perfectly content with long-distance if that’s what you need to do.”

You smiled despite yourself. Shayne had established this rule early-on; you never needed to worry about going to see him if going to see him would jeopardize your work or your personal wellbeing. If you couldn’t handle the stress of a flight across the country, he would either come to you or you’d just make texting and calling work until one of you could get on a plane.

But in this instance (and in every other instance), you didn’t want to see him in person just so that he would be satisfied. You wanted to see him in person because seeing him in person was infinitely better than seeing him through the phone. You wanted to be there when he got home from work, to kiss him goodnight and good morning, to fall asleep next to him.

“I’m gonna move out there,” you said, surprising even yourself with the conviction in your tone.

“What?” he asked. The camera shook for a moment and you imagined he was sitting up in bed. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “Seriously. I’ll talk to everyone tomorrow and then I’ll call you and we can figure out the logistics. I need to be with you, Shayne. I think now’s as good a time as there’ll ever be.”

***

It took a month of you living together for Shayne to track down the old ring. He’d kept it all these years, though he could never quite put a finger on why. At least, until now.

As he rifled through his closet searching for the little blue box, he knew exactly why he’d kept it. For five years, he’d hoped against hope that you would come back to him. He’d hoped that despite it all, you could still be soulmates, just like he’d known you were before he went and fucked it up.

He found the box. It was a little dusty, but the ring inside was preserved perfectly. He moved it from the bottom of his closet to the back corner of his sock drawer, which felt like a more appropriate hiding place for a ring that was no longer going unused (hopefully).

You were currently back in New York to finish recording the new album, and then you would begin tour rehearsals in LA. The reasons for that were threefold; first, there was a choreographer based in LA that you desperately wanted to work with; second, the tour would kick off in LA, so it made sense to do the rehearsals in the place you would start; and third, you had convinced the rest of the band to do it in LA so that you could be close to Shayne. They, being your best friends and considering the other two reasons, had agreed happily. The proximity was good for Shayne, not only because it meant he got to spend time with you, but because it meant he could consult Carly. He figured that if anyone would know if you were ready to marry him, it would be her.

A week or so into tour rehearsals, the two of you hosted a dinner party at your apartment. You invited the Smosh Squad, the band, and a few other mutual friends. It was a challenge fitting everyone into the small space, but you made it work.

Shayne managed to find Carly after dinner was over and everyone had broken up to mingle. You were occupied with Olivia, Courtney, and Piper, and Carly was only talking to Damien, so Shayne figured it was his golden opportunity.

He sidled up to Carly and Damien and shot Damien a Hey man, you know what I’m about to do look (Damien was well aware of his plans, of course; Shayne had texted him the very second marriage popped into his head). Damien nodded.

“Hey, Carly,” Shayne said. She gave him a barely-civil look and took a sip of her drink. She still didn’t entirely trust him, which Shayne couldn’t blame her for; the way he understood it, she had been the one to pick up the pieces of the mess he made. He knew she was only playing nice with him for your sake. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“Sure,” she replied. She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously suspicious, even as she gestured for him to begin walking. “Lead the way.”

Shayne beckoned her into the bedroom, which was the only place not occupied by dinner guests, and rifled around in his sock drawer until he found the ring. He turned and presented it to Carly.

She choked on her drink.

“You’re going to propose?” she asked, volume just lower than a shout, obviously incredulous. Shayne shushed her frantically and glanced over to the open archway into the living room, thoroughly regretting not closing the door and praying to God that no one had heard. “Sorry, I just… Jesus, okay.” And then, in a much more reasonable tone of voice: “You’re going to propose?”

“I’m thinking about proposing,” Shayne corrected her. He set the ring back in his sock drawer. “I haven’t made my mind up yet. I don’t want to ask and freak her out. I figured you might know her thoughts on it.”

Carly narrowed her eyes at him, appraising. Shayne got the disturbing feeling that she could see straight into his soul; it was like she was looking through him, not at him. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Y/N is my best friend,” Carly said after a few seconds. Shayne nodded his understanding but didn’t dare speak. “After you destroyed her -- and you did destroy her, and it was your fault, even as much as she’s tried time and time again to convince me otherwise -- I was there for her. I have seen her at her lowest, most desperate points, and I have seen her at her most joyful. She is my best friend. She is my sister.

“All this to say, Shayne, that if you hurt her again, I can and will -- in fact, I am obligated to -- make your death look like an accident.”

Shayne nodded again, struck speechless. He was reminded of a conversation he’d had with you some time ago: he’d mentioned that he thought Carly didn’t like him, and you had conceded that she didn’t. But, you’d said, don’t worry too much. She’s all bark and no bite, and she just cares. She’ll come around to you.

As she stood in front of him now, fire in her eyes, tension in her shoulders, chin held high, Shayne was absolutely convinced that this woman was 100% bite. She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. He was somehow more intimidated by Carly than he had been by your family.

“I love her, too,” he said. “That’s one thing we have in common. I know that I hurt her, and not a day goes by that I don’t regret it. I should’ve done things so much differently five years ago, I know that, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But by some miracle, she’s given me a second chance, and I’m not gonna fuck it up this time. I want to marry her with everything I have, Carly. I need to know that she’ll say yes.”

There was another silent moment as Carly appraised him. She glanced over at the sock drawer, where the ring was safely tucked away, and then back to him. “Okay,” she said. Shayne’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

***

You rehearsed for two months before the first concert of the new tour. In the week leading up to it, you were riddled with nerves; you were exhausted from long rehearsals and yet you couldn’t sleep, you had to force yourself to eat, you had dreams of getting on stage and forgetting all your choreography, or, worse, the lyrics to your own songs.

Shayne did his best to help you. He stayed up with you when you were having insomnia, even if his work suffered for it the following day, and he brought you food sometimes when rehearsals ran past your allotted lunch or dinner break. He was a godsend.

Finally, the big day arrived; it was the opening night of your tour. The new album had been out for a couple of weeks and it was doing well so far. The concert hall was slightly bigger than the one you’d performed at last time you were in LA. But sitting in your dressing room with shaking hands, about to attend the pre-show meet and greet, the nervous churning in your gut felt eerily similar to the way it felt eight months prior.

And, like eight months prior, Carly came to collect you. You walked with her down the hallway and to the meet and greet room, which had an almost identical setup; white backdrop and four stools on one side, camera equipment and a friendly man named Rob on the other.

You and the rest of the band gave Michelle the all-clear to let guests in, and the meet and greet began.

It was around the halfway mark when the door opened and you heard familiar voices walking in. Your face split into a wide grin as Noah, Keith, Olivia, Courtney, Damien, Ian, and Shayne rounded the backdrop. All of you had grown pretty close over the last few months, between you living with Shayne and occasionally visiting him at work. You had actually been in talks with Ian to appear on a SmoshCast once the tour was over.

Hugs were exchanged between the band and all your friends. You greeted Shayne with a kiss on the cheek, and Courtney with the complicated secret handshake you two had been working on.

The entire massive group took a photo together, and then your adoring fans left to find their seats. Your heart felt lighter for having seen them, and knowing that they would be in the audience worked wonders to calm your nerves. It was the exact opposite effect of your last meet and greet experience with Shayne.

The meet and greet ended, mic check passed, and the beginning of the concert approached. You took a deep breath. You did your pre-show ritual. You got into places. The concert began.

The first half of the show went off without a hitch. The fans were obviously loving it, and you (miraculously) remembered everything you were supposed to do. You were constantly glancing back at Shayne and your friends, both for comfort and to make sure they were enjoying themselves. Occasionally, you’d make eye contact with one of them and they’d flash you enthusiastic thumbs-ups. Every time you looked at Shayne, without fail, he was looking back at you, which made your heart beat just that much faster.

As you were introducing Your Love, though, you glanced over and saw that Shayne was no longer sitting with the group. You frowned but figured he had gone to the bathroom. Damien flashed you a grin and a thumbs-up from his seat next to Shayne’s.

The song began and you didn’t have time to think about anything else as you started to sing: “Luxurious lovin’ like Egyptian cotton, if I ain’t got nothing, least I got you.”

This particular song hadn’t been written with Shayne in mind, but it was hard to think of anything else as you sang the lovey-dovey lyrics. Every time you glanced over at his seat, though, he was still gone. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you knew, but you were somewhat saddened by the fact that you couldn’t serenade him (or at least make eye contact with him) while you sang.

Alexis had the second verse. You were swaying to the beat and moving across the stage to your mark when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You almost ignored it and kept moving; you were in show mode, so you chalked it up at first to a backup dancer brushing against you or something of the sort. But then you took in your surroundings and stopped in your tracks.

Alexis was still singing, but she and the rest of the band had turned their eyes to you. In fact, everyone on stage was looking at you. The audience was screaming, and you thought you heard your name a few times, but it was impossible to make anything out, and a screaming audience at a concert wasn’t exactly unusual. Your heart still plummeted, though, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong. You made eye contact with Piper, standing off to your right, and she nodded encouragingly and motioned toward you as if to say turn around.

You did, and what you saw almost made you drop your mic. Your jaw practically hit the floor.

There, on one knee in front of you, was Shayne. He was holding a little blue box, and inside the box was the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. He was smiling up at you, hope and adoration in his eyes. As your band-mates launched into the second chorus of the song, you nodded enthusiastically and allowed Shayne to put the ring on your finger. The audience was going insane. He pulled you into a tight hug.

“I promise I’m gonna get it right this time. I love you so much,” he said. You nodded against him. When he pulled back, he laughed softly and reached up to wipe his thumb over your cheek; you realized with a start that you were crying. “Happy tears?” he asked, just loudly enough that you could make it out over the noise.

You nodded and leaned in to kiss him. You weren’t normally big on PDA, and you were pretty sure kissing in front of a concert hall full of people definitely counted as PDA, but you figured you could make an exception just this once. When you pulled away and brought the mic back up to your mouth to sing, you kept one arm around his shoulders and hardly took your eyes off him. You could feel yourself missing your choreography, but you didn’t care. Your world had narrowed to just the two of you. Shayne, the love of your life, your fiancé, standing next to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen, looking at you like you were his everything.

You finished the song and kissed Shayne again before he had to get offstage. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I’ll see you after the show. Knock ‘em dead, beautiful.”

And then he went backstage. A minute later, you saw him return to his seat in the audience, where he was almost immediately engulfed in a patented Damien Bear Hug. You smiled at your friends and then turned back to the audience. They had only marginally quieted down since the end of the song. You brought the mic to your mouth. “I’m engaged, ya’ll!”

A fresh round of cheering erupted and your band-mates rushed over to wrap you in a group hug. You felt another few tears spill over and wiped them away. You’d only felt joy like this a handful of times, and it more than made up for all the sadness Shayne had caused you.

You knew, as you launched into Nothing Else Matters, that this was the beginning of a long, happy future. Your life with Shayne would, of course, have its ups and downs, but after everything, you knew this for sure: with him by your side, you could weather any storm that came your way. And he was more than worth it.

[goldenncherrybombb]

Lights up

Helloooooo I’m sorry I haven’t wrote in awhile but I’m back :)

Masterlist

Masterlist for series

“Harry, mate, that was incredible. Can we do the ‘do you know you ares, again’?” Harpoon questions, holding one earphone on his ear as the other one rests on his shoulder. Harry stares off in nowhere particular, just zoned out as a specific moment keep replaying in his head.

“One more, then ‘m done.” Harry slurred, swaying his fingers drunkenly in y/n’s face. Her just a drunk. It was coincidence that they ran into each other. Y/n was at a bar with some of her producers, her manager, and a few others. Harry found her first. She was sitting a booth across his. He heard her laugh, thinking he was crazy. Until he saw her. Laughing, leaning into a man he didn’t know.

His friends noticed his sudden change in mood. Jeff going to ask him about it but he stood up and walked to the bar, ordering his third drink of the night. He wasn’t going to drink a lot, but now he’s conflicted, sad, angry.

He ordered a whiskey and coke, then he started to mess with the straw when he isn’t drinking it. He heard her voice and had to turn his head slyly to look at her. She had her elbows resting on the bar as her hands propped up her face. She orders her favorite drink, Harry smiling to himself as he remembered that and how he loves drunk y/n and all the sides she had. From bubbly, funny, to flirty, needy.

“Harry?” She questioned, Harry turning to fully look at her and not at his drink he turned back to as he reminisced there time spent together.

“Hi.” He simply replied, amazed she was talking to him. He thought he lost her forever. Harry thought she was the one for him, and so did she. But then she left him and he wasn’t so sure she felt the same. They had talked about their future, fantasized about having kids and growing old. It took him awhile to get over his anger from her just leaving him thinking it was for the better, and he was hurting her and that was the one thing he promised he wouldn’t do. But he realized it did help because know he feels like his old self again, but there’s still a piece of his heart missing.

“Hello,” she giggled. The bartender gave her her drink and she thanked him. “W-what are you doing here?” She was drunk. Having almost as many drinks as Harry, but she didn’t drink alcohol often and was lightweight, so it didn’t take much for her to get piss drunk.

“Jeff suggested a night out after our session ‘n the studio today, how about you?”

“Well, same actually.” They continued talking, then Harry suggested they go somewhere else to catch up. Y/n agreed, her heart speaking before her brain that was telling her she needed to give him space. But it had been three months, Harry just came back from a month in Japan and god did she miss him. But she couldn’t be selfish. It was all to confusing and was giving her a headache.

“Can we just go back to my place, H?” He froze for a second when she called him by his favorite nickname of hers. But she didn’t notice, she didn’t even notice she said it, she was too concentrated on trying to get rid of the headache she was starting to get. “My head is starting to hurt and I can’t listen to this music anymore.” He nods and they get a cab back to Y/n’s house a few miles away.

First they sat far away from each other, but then each of them shifted closer, and closer and closer until there thighs were touching and Harry has his hand cupping her face, looking into her eyes asking for permission. She nodded and there lips were together before she could blink. It was passionate, lust filled, and loving. Both of them inhaled when there lips crashed together, both of them missing that feeling.

Thank up above that they had arrived at y/n’s house soon, neither of them couldn’t take just kissing anymore. Harry quickly paid the cab driver as they made there way to y/n’s door, her hand in his. Once it was unlocked Harry picked her up and pushed her back against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist. She whimpered into the kiss and he moved them to one of her guests bedrooms downstairs.

He gently lays her down, peppering kisses on her neck, leaving a few marks here and there. He pulls away when her hands start trailing down his back then to his front as she fumbles with his belt. He stops her movements and moves his gaze back up to her.

“Are you sure?” He questions slowly, quietly. He doesn’t want her to regret this. It would crush him. He has longed to be in her hold for what feels like eternity to him. He missed her beautiful smile. Her gorgeous eyes. He missed everything about her. But he doesn’t know she feels the same way about him, and vice versa. But she doesn’t regret her decision, he truly did need it. And at times he found himself silently thanking her as he does something for him and takes care of himself. He wishes she could see those moments.

They slowly undress each other, both of them soaking up the moment, not knowing when something like this could happen again. Harry’s pace is slow, the room filling with quiet moans of pleasure. Once they were done the room was quiet besides there deep breathes, Harry crashing next to her. It was quiet for a bit till Harry spoke up but stopped himself, y/n turning to look at him as she props her head up her elbow, the sheets fitting her curves. Harry scoots closer to her and brings his index finger over to her curves and traces up and down her body.

“You used to do that all the time.” She said quietly, a sad smile on her face as she watches his movements.

“Thought you didn’ love me anymo’ ?” Harry whispers dryly, his index finger running up and down her from her shoulder to her curves, to her hip dip and back up, the white sheet tucked under her arm. Harry said it so quietly he was sure she didn’t hear him.

“I never said that, Harry. I said I need to let you go for your benefit. Don’t you feel better?” She questions back quietly. Harry adjusts his head that’s laying on his hand.

“Well, yes and no. Yes because I have begun to change so much, your words affecting me a lot and now I know what you meant. I was falling down a black hole and didn’t want to admit it. But you helped me find myself, lovie, and realize I do need help. But also, no because I miss you, and you aren’t here to see me change.” He takes a pause to continue and finally tell her how he feels before she speaks up.

“Well, maybe we can be friends like before. We can forget about tonight and be friends again.” She smiles at him when she’s done talking, her fingers pushing a piece of hair back off of his forehead. He was so entranced that his brain spoke before his heart did.

“Yeah, we can do that.” He doesn’t know why he said it. Maybe because this way he can still be close and maybe try confessing his feelings another time when things get better. She smiles at him and her gaze goes to her lap before she look back up at him slowly. “After tonight we can forget about this, right?” She him and nods. He kisses her passionately, knowing after tonight hes not gonna have her like this again. “After tonight.” He whispers against her lips. She nods hastily and reattached their lips sloppily.

“After tonight.” She whispers against his lips. Once the sun rose Harry was up, putting on his clothes quietly as she slept still. He didn’t want to feel hurt in the morning when they start pretending last night didn’t happen.

Y/n woke up and was a little disappointed she woke up to an empty bed, but she knew why he did it and knew it was for the best.

It was all going fine for awhile. They grew closer as they talked more again. But Harry’s hopes were crushed when an article popped up on his twitter about y/n.

‘Y/N SPOTTED OUT TO EAT, LOOKING COZY, WITH A FELLOW SINGER/SONGWRITER. HAS THE TALENTED POPSTAR FOUND THE ONE?’

He didn’t want to read it, but his finger pressed it before his brain caught up with his action. He read the whole thing. Looking at the photos of her laughing with a handsome lad. Harry knew he shouldn’t feel jealous. He agreed to only being friends. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt and he doesn’t still love her.

So he called Mitch and asked him to meet him at a bar close to his Malibu house. Mitch arrived a few minutes after Harry, concerned about his friend. He sounded defeated over the phone, not like his normal cheery self he has been recently.

Harry explained what was happening over a few drinks. Mitch listened, nodding his head to let him know he was still listening.

“Harry,” Mitch started as Harry grabbed his drink. “I know it sucks man, but it’s just an article. You don’t even know if it’s true. Don’t give up. I see the way she looks at you and it hasn’t changed from when you guys first got together. She still loves you, man. Both of you just aren’t sure how to deal with something like this because you haven’t had to do so before.” Harry nods and sets his drink back down, thinking about Mitches words.

Once they were done Harry thanked him again and drove back home. He decided that he was going to call her, but he needed a few drinks before he could do so. So now Harry is on his couch, five scotches in, and a little tipsy. His phone is in his hand, her contact on the screen. He was nervous, and each time his glass emptied he poured more, needing a confidence booster. Now he finally had it so he closed his eyes and quickly pressed the call button. He heard the dial tone quietly before he pressed the speaker button. It felt like eternity before she answered, her voice making him perk up.

“Hello H, what’s up?” She questioned. Hardy froze for a second, trying to remember his speech me made up in his head. But as he goes to speak he hears a male voice.

“W-who’s that?” He questions hesitantly, already knowing the answer.

“Oh that’s my, my uh, friend, Austin.” Her words were a little rushed, nervous. It was the same guy she was seen with yesterday, and the days before that. According to the article they have been spotted quite a bit the past month. It goes silent for a minute before she speaks up again. “Did you need anything?” She questions quietly. The phone call a little awkward now.

“Um, no, no. Don’t mean to bother yeh. I’ll tell you later.” He tells her after a few more beats of silence.

“You sure?” She questions, wanting to make sure he isn’t just saying that if he really does need to talk about something important.

“‘M sure, talk to you later, bye.”

“See you later, H.” He smiles at her words, knowing she doesn’t say goodbyes, only see you laters.

“One more thing,” Harry gets his confidence back, now not caring as much what he says. “Don’t call him baby.” And with that, he hangs up.

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Three

Marcus smirked as he watched Chris mess with the straw in his drink, “Man, whoever she is has got you messed up bad.”

Chris jerked his head up and frowned in confusion, “huh?”

“You have completely zoned out on me, Bro. What’s going on?”

“Just thinking.”

“So your divorce? What happened?”

“I wasn’t any good for her. It just wasn’t gonna work out.”

“How’d she take it?”

“Not good. I’m surprised she hasn’t put a hit out on me.”

Marcus chuckled, “that woman loves you too much.”

“Loved.”

“Loves. I said what I said.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Do you know she hasn’t dated since your divorce?”

“No. I never bothered to keep up with her.”

“Really?”

“I don’t have the right to. Why keep up with her life if I didn’t have the decency to stay in it?”

“You got a point.”

“So who is the new girl?”

“There is no new girl. Just somebody I’m getting to know.”

“So there is a new girl.”

“No.”

“Chris, we can play with semantics all night but be honest, do you like her?”

“Yes but we’re just friends.”

“For now.”

“She’s still in love with her ex-husband. I’m not in control of my life and neither of us are looking for anything serious.”

“Then what’s the harm in making her your new girl. You both know whats the deal up front.”

“Besides she doesn't want to meet me anyway.”

“You’ve never met?”

“I met her online. I only have a vague idea of what she looks like but we’ve never actually seen each other or spoke to each other.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were into that.”

“I set it up out of boredom but I got lucky with talking to her. She’s really nice.”

“What she do?”

“She’s a Vet. Owns her own clinic and shelter”

“Nice. Is she local?”

“Not sure. I know her business is in the city. Never asked if she lived there or not.”

“Chris, you might know her already.”

“I doubt it besides I think the not knowing her is the best part.”

“No identity, no expectations.”

“Exactly.”

“Well more power to you. Hope you don’t miss out on an amazing woman wanting to be all mysterious and shit.”

“I’m not concerned.”

A: How has your day been?

C: Hectic. My daughter caught the flu so I’m out of commission for the next few days

A: Aww...poor baby. Is this the first time she’s been sick?

C: No so I’m pretty prepared for the theatrics that will be coming my way

A: She’s that kind of kid, huh? Lol

C: Lol regardless of the fact that she’s three, she gets sick and reverts to an infant but I love babying her. Just don’t tell her that

A: Lol, your secret is safe with me

C: How have you been?

A: Good. Finalizing details for this gala a certain someone got me to attend

C: Lol, you made the deal, I just accepted

A: Yea. Whatever.

C: Did you decide on a date for our virtual outing?

A: I mean you have the child

C: It’s not like I’m gonna be leaving my house though

A: That is true

C: Are you nervous?

A: No, it’s not like you’re gonna hear my voice or see me. What’s there to be nervous about?

C: I don’t know I’m asking you

A: Are you free this weekend?

C: 8 pm Saturday?

A: Works for me

C: Cool

A: You know you could’ve just picked a time and told me

C: Yea but it was your idea so your choice

A: Hmm...I guess

C: What you thinking about?

A: If I should send you a sneak peek of my dress

C: You have it already? I thought the gala wasn’t for another month

A: A month goes by fast especially if you own your own business, time is not of the essence

C: Ah, very true. Are we still doing text to speech or?

A: I have some equipment I can use for voice changes. You?

C: I work at a college, I’m sure I can find some

A: Cool

C: Is your voice that distinctive that I’d be able to figure out who you are from hearing it?

A: Yes.

C: Ah, now I’m curious

A: It’s not that I’m worried about knowing you but I’ve been interviewed and stuff before so hearing my voice would definitely be a dead giveaway and ruin the mystery

C: I understand. 

A: Does any of this make you uncomfortable?

C: No. It keeps things simple and uncomplicated. No complaints from me

A: Cool

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

Robyn quickly composed herself as she posed for the picture in front of her phone. The self-timer clicked and she grabbed the device to see her handy work. She smiled at the successful shot. No identifying marks but it captured her body and clothing perfectly. She sat down and logged into her dating app to send the picture to Chris. Not wanting to be consumed with nervousness, she logged out completely before taking off her clothes and heading to take a shower. Their double blind virtual outing was tonight.

Chris smiled as his phone pinged and he clicked on the new message. The long-sleeve navy blue dress hugged every curve of Anna perfectly. She was completely covered but it still felt just as sexy as if she was naked. That was an art. The message read, “I probably could’ve waited a few weeks to send you this but I figured what the hell. What do you think?”

Chris rubbed his hand along his chin then through his hair as he stared at the picture. Was he making a mistake letting this stay just an online thing? Could she really be as amazing as she seemed? Maybe it was just the lust talking. He had sworn off women the past few years so it wasn’t like he had many outlets for any kind of attraction. Anesa was with his sister and cousins for the night while he had his virtual outing with Anna. He really didn’t understand why she just didn’t call it a date but then again they aren’t supposed to be dating so it makes sense.

Robyn shook off any nervousness as she sat down in front of her computer. It was easier to not be tempted to use the camera if she didn’t have one so she decided to use her desktop instead of her laptop. The older monitor was wired for sound but not video. She had emailed Chris a link to the video chat site with its autoset to start at 8pm. She glanced at the cover of the screen and sighed as the clock flipped from 7:59 to 8:00.

“Hi Anna,” an auto generated voice came through her speakers

“Chris, it’s nice to hear your voice.”

Chris laughed, “well something like my voice. How are you?”

“I’m great. You?”

“I’m good. Thank you for the picture.”

“Eh, I was trying it on and thought why not. You never answered my message”

“Well, I knew I was gonna talk to you soon so I figured it’d be easier to say what I was thinking than writing it”

“Ah, so what do you think?”

“I think you look incredible. It’s hard to be sexy and completely covered from neck to toe but you definitely pulled it off.”

“Why thank you. My friend was a little upset that I picked that dress.”

“Why?”

“She thinks I need to show more skin.”

Chris laughed, “well you’re single, no harm in doing that.”

“Single and not trying to mingle though.”

“If you look as amazing in the face as your body does. Nothing short of staying home would keep people, men especially, from trying to talk to you.”

“Oh don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Still don’t say it.”

“You’re afraid of dating?”

“No, just not prepared for it. I don’t really want to like anybody else.”

“Not even me.”

“You are a very pleasant and partially unwanted surprise. I don’t think I could not not like you though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment”

“Good because I meant it as one,” Robyn laughed, “Feel weird yet?”

“Nope. This is a lot easier than typing though.”

“It is. 

“So how was your day?”

“It was good. I had the start of auditions for my upper level songwriting and music composition classes.”

“Really? How do those work?”

“The student either performs live or brings in a recorded piece that they wrote and/or composed.”

“Do they have to be the performer?”

“It is preferable but no. I get my share of duos from time to time.”

“Is it easier to audition as a duo or solo?”

“To me, neither. I try to be equally as hard on all my students.”

“Did you work in the music industry before?”

“Actually no, just a dream deferred, I guess.”

“What about your divorce made you switch careers?”

“Music has always been healing for me. I had no desire to be famous or anything like that but I wanted to deal with music. Teaching did that for me.”

“Were you healing from your marriage?”

“No. My mother had passed away and it just threw my life into a spiral.”

“Were you close?”

“Not like we should’ve been. I was raised by another family member and my mom wasn’t really around most of my life.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s life. You learn to make the best of it.”

“It doesn’t sound like you did.”

“To be honest, I didn’t at first. I was mad at everything and everybody. I just gave up.”

“And your marriage was a casualty of that.”

“Yup.”

“And you still love her?”

“I don’t want to but I do.”

“I know that feeling. So you were adopted by the family member or they just took you in?”

“Just took me in, nothing official.”

“Oh ok.”

“You have a good relationship with your family?”

“Yea, I think we still sit on different sides of the fence when it comes to my ex but other than that nothing major.”

“Why?”

“They loved him. He was my high school sweetheart so we kind of grew up together.”

“Same here. Do they want you guys to get back together?”

“Absolutely.”

Chris laughed.

“Sometimes I wonder if there were things he told them that he couldn’t tell me.”

“It’s possible. It's easier to open up to somebody you don’t feel responsible for. Men worry a lot about looking weak in front of their spouses. We wonder if women will still trust our judgment if they think we’re more emotional than logical.”

“Any woman worth her medal knows men are more emotional than logical, y’all just like to play with semantics. Just because you don’t deal with your emotions doesn’t mean they don’t exist or magically go away. Y’all just have different methodologies than we do.”

“Were you a therapist in a past life?”

Robyn laughed, “No, I took basic psychology classes in college.”

“Definitely sounds like you took more than the requisite elective.”

“I did. Almost had enough for a minor but I overloaded on vet classes to try to finish my bachelor’s early.”

“Did you?”

“Just a semester early, nothing too major.”

“That’s awesome. Were you always a vet?”

“Actually no. I took a few years off after veterinary school, did a bunch of odd jobs before I came back to my chosen profession.”

“Ah, good deal.”

“It had its perks.”

“How’d your husband feel about that?”

“We weren’t married initially but he didn’t seem to mind even after we did get married. He had a bit of an old school rearing and liked being a provider, I can admit.”

“And all that time you never had children?”

“I don’t think he could’ve emotionally handled children but then again, we might have fought for our marriage more if there were some involved.”

“You think so?”

“We both grew up in separated families, raised by a single parent or guardian. Two parent households weren’t the norm for either of us.”

“Ah ok.”

“We had always maintained the idea of having children once we got married but then we got married and things just didn’t work out. I wanted to try immediately after the ceremony but he kept stalling. First, it was getting his career off the ground then the timing just wasn’t right and by then we were divorced. I don’t think he wanted children with me.”

“You know being a parent isn’t something to take lightly, from what it sounds like it wasn’t you, he just wasn’t ready. At least, he was self aware to know that.”

“And your wife?”

“After the first year, we barely had sex.”

“Were you not attracted to her anymore?”

“I was. I just didn’t really like myself anymore and it made it hard to be physical with her. We had years of having sex and making love. I wasn’t the same so it didn’t feel the same, I felt like I was shortchanging her.”

“Sounds like you made a lot of decisions for her.”

“I know she would’ve stayed if I didn’t leave but I also knew she wasn’t happy. I couldn’t say I love her and subject her to an unhappy marriage, it’s not fair.”

“Why didn’t you just get help?”

“I did that’s what led me to ask for a divorce.”

“Your help told you to get divorced?”

“Not explicitly. My therapist told me that I needed to take time to focus on myself with no distractions. My mother had died, My father showed back up in my life. It just felt like everything was falling apart and then I had my wife. Trying to be supportive but completely unhappy and walking on eggshells. It felt like I was torturing her and I didn’t want us to live like that. I didn’t want her to live like that. When I tried to explain what was going on, it just made everything worse.”

“What you mean?”

“I broke her. In such a short marriage, I broke her and I didn’t know how to undo what I had done. I also wasn’t in the space to undo it. I just wanted to die and I didn’t want her to see that.”

‘Did you try to-”

“It was a week after she had moved out. Complete nervous breakdown.”

“Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was bound to happen. The mind can only take so much before it has to reset itself.”

“Did you tell her?”

“No. I made my family promise not to say anything to anyone either. I made her leave for that exact reason. Sometimes you can just feel when you’ve reached your breaking point.”

“True. So she had no idea?”

“No. If she had, she probably would’ve came back and never went through with the divorce. I didn't want her spending her life fixing my mess, that’s my job.”

“Wow. I appreciate you telling me this.”

“I’m surprised I did. Had this been a year or two ago, I probably would’ve stopped talking to you as soon as you asked about her.”

“Really?”

“Yea. Failure sucks.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like you failed. It’s not like all avenues had been exhausted.”

“If your ex-husband had did this, would you be so accommodating?”

“If he had actually told me all this happened with him, absolutely. This is so much different than the silence and moping around that I got.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“I mean I definitely have to get over feeling so betrayed first. Ten years of a relationship and he couldn’t trust me enough to let me in, that’s a hard pill to swallow.”

“Yea but it happens. I imagine my ex-wife would probably feel that exact same way.”

“I might not know you well enough to say this but I really think you should find her and talk to her. The years may have softened her.”

“I don’t think it would be right. I caused her enough issues, the last thing she’d probably want is to be reminded of me.”

“There you go making decisions for her again. You never know until you find out.”

“I guess.”

“Unless you don’t want to find out.”

“What you mean?”

“I think you’re afraid that you really did break her and she never bounced back. I think finding out that she hasn’t moved on scares you more than anything.”

“I-”

“You love her and I don’t think you will ever stop, so you want her to be happy. You want her to have forgotten about you and got everything she ever wanted in life. But if she hasn’t, you’d have to realize that though you did everything to protect her, you made the biggest mistake making her go especially when she didn’t want to. As a woman who’s been there and still there, you didn’t give her a chance to be what you needed because you were so worried about not being what you thought she wanted, even though you never asked.”

Robyn pulled her covers up under her chin as she laid back staring at her ceiling. Talking to Chris, really got her to thinking about her ex-husband. Did something happen to him to make him shut him down? Did he really walk out to save her like he told her? If so, why didn't he trust her to be there for him? At least this Chris is healed but clearly she has a penchant for damaged men. Is she a damaged woman? Did her ex really break her to the point she could never recover?

Chris sat on the phone with Anesa, half listening to her ramble about her day. He was going to go get her from his sister’s house but after talking with Anna, he needed the night to himself, to regroup. He couldn’t say that she was wrong. He never really thought about if his ex-wife was happy or not since he left. At least not out loud. Like what right did he have to shake up her life again after shaking it up in the first place? That’s why he never asked about her. It wasn’t right to be about her life if he made the initiative to walk out of it. Anna really showed him the other side of the situation, it really wasn’t as pretty and hopeful as he thought it would’ve been. He never thought of his divorce as a mistake but did he really ruin something that could’ve been fixed?

[nomattertheoceans]

Staying Afloat - chapter 17

Thank you to my best girl @danieldesario, for beta reading but also for being an amazing person! Go check her writing here! I love you Lilly :)

Writing masterlist | Fic masterlist

Chapter 16 | Chapter 18

Her wrists started bruising a few hours into the morning. Or that was when she realized  they were bruising, anyway. Rhys had left the apartment for work, ‘just for an hour’ he’d told her, and she had been chilling on his bed, brainstorming about how to write to Tamlin that she had left him for good.

Thinking of different ways to tell the man who’d wanted to marry her that she wasn’t coming back, she took off the hoodie to get more comfortable in the summer weather. That’s when she saw it. Her wrists had been hurting since the day before, but she hadn’t wanted to focus on it much. But now, seeing the skin of her arms laid bare, she understood why it pained her so much.

Both her wrists were completely red, some parts even starting to turn a darker shade of crimson. And the bruises were big, too, covering nearly half of her forearms. But what really scared her wasn’t their color, or their size. It was their shape. Because here, in the midst of reddish marks, you could clearly distinguish the places where strong, large fingers had held her.

She was so absorbed by her discovery that she didn’t hear the key turn in the lock, or Rhys come inside the apartment. So she jumped when he said:

“We need to put ice on those.”

“Rhys. You’re back.”

He took off his leather jacket and went to his fridge. “I am. We need to put something cold on your arms if we want to help with the healing.” He grabbed a pack of frozen peas from the freezer and wrapped it inside a dishcloth. “Sorry, I only have one, we’ll have to switch from one wrist to the other.”

He sat beside her, gently took her left hand to rest it on his knees, and laid the pack on top of it. Feyre winced for a second at the sudden cold, but then she smiled at him.

“Sorry for wasting your peas.”

“You’re not, these are my bruises-and-swellings peas, it’s not their first day on the battlefield.”

“Do I want to know why you would have something lying around in case of violent fights and black eyes?”

“Maybe I’m just using it after intense workouts.”

“You’re not, though.”

It wasn’t a question, and he looked up from her arms to look her in the eyes. “No, I’m not.” But he quickly changed the subject, his tone changing. “Feyre, we should take pictures of these.”

She wasn’t sure she had understood him well. Did he want to… “What?”

“We should take pictures of the bruises, now, and maybe every couple of days as long as they’re apparent.”

“Why?”

He seemed to think about his answer for a while before saying: “I know this must be the least of your concerns right now, but it could be useful in the future to have proof of what he did to you.”

“Proof? You mean… like for a trial?”

“Not necessarily. But if it ever were to come to that, or a similar situation, it could be useful. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s just… I know how these things work, and it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t tell you my professional opinion on this.”

His tone was so solemn, so much like the way he talked to her when they were working, that she couldn’t help but take him seriously. She agreed to the photos, and they spent the next ten minutes taking pictures of both her forearms at every angle. All the while, he was talking to her about some art show he’d gone to the week before, and even though she was only half listening, she was grateful for the casual tone of their conversation.

***

She wrote to Tamlin just before noon. A short message, because she couldn’t handle to write more to him, and she didn’t want to keep seeing his calls and messages on her phone.

I don’t want to see you or talk to you right now. Don’t try to contact me.

She felt awful the second she sent the message, but she also felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

He didn’t stop calling.

***

“I’m going to do something,” Rhys told her around three o'clock, “and it’s going to be something very stupid, and you will have to keep it a secret, but it’s important. Okay?”

She nodded, and she watched him as he went to his dresser, took out an old pair of socks from the middle drawer, and unfolded it to reveal a crumpled piece of paper. He then grabbed his phone, copied the info from the piece of paper, and waited. After a few seconds, she heard an unintelligible female voice answer him.

“Mor, it’s me.” A pause, during which she could hear the voice getting frantic. “Yeah, this is for real. Mor, Mor, stop talking.” And suddenly, Feyre remembered Morrigan, Cassian’s cousin she had met at the wedding, the short blonde woman with a tendency to hug anyone she liked, and a memorably cheesy speech.

But Rhys continued speaking. “Mor, I’m going to need you to listen to me very carefully, and do exactly what I say. No questions asked. Can you do that?”

A muffled sound that she imagined to be a ‘yes,’ as Rhys’ lips split into a smile. “Good. I’m going to need you to go to the house in The Rainbow - Mor, stop talking and listen to me. You’re going to go into the library, open the third drawer of my mom’s dresser, and take out the credit card you find there. With the card, you’re going to buy women clothes.” Feyre started to protest silently beside him, shaking her head, but he covered the phone and whispered “this is just for now, Darling. You can pay me back, okay?” before speaking into the phone again. “I need you to buy at least two or three pairs of pants, about ten tee-shirts, and maybe one or two dresses. In M size. Oh, and some underwear, too. What size? Errr…” He looked awkwardly at her, and heat invaded her cheeks as she whispered her bra size to him “... 34D. Once you have all of this, I want you to bring it back to the house. Okay?” Another pause. “Good, thanks, Mor. Oh, and Mor? The clothes, try to buy average, not something you would wear, alright?” He chuckled at the answer. “Talk to you soon. I love you too.”

He hung up, and spent a few seconds staring at his phone with a faint smile, before sighing heavily and glancing at her. She could see he was still somewhat lost in the call to his cousin, so she asked:

“Is it the first time you’ve talked to her since the beginning of your assignment?”

“It is. It feels strange to hear her voice, it feels so… real.”

“I’m sorry.”

He turned to her. “For what?”

“For having your first call to your cousin in years be about buying me clothes.”

“Don’t apologize. If anything, I wouldn’t even have talked to her if it hadn’t been for you. Plus, Mor loves buying clothes, I'm sure she's thrilled at the idea of an unlimited credit card to spend with.”

She chuckled. "I met her at the wedding, you know."

"Oh, that's right! What did you think of her?"

"I liked her. I wasn't in a very good place back then," she decided to gloss over the fact that her situation hadn't changed much since, "but she was very friendly, it felt good."

He smiled, in a lost sort of way that she had never seen on his face before. She tried to imagine how lonely he felt, unable to contact his friends and folks for more than two years, but she found that she couldn't fathom it.

Rhys shook himself and said: "We'll wait an hour and then we'll go."

"Go where?"

He answered with a large grin. "To a house I know you're definitely going to like."

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[aphrodites-law]

My Favorite

Trope: Soulmate marks. Twist: Lexa doesn’t have one. Clarke does.

7/7 - (Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6)

~

It wasn't the sunshine that woke her up or even the breeze from the window that was cracked open. It was the soft press of kisses on her neck and the brief flutter of eyelashes against her jaw. Lexa awoke with a smile, fingers already lost in blonde locks. She kissed back the sweet lips that brushed against her mouth, teasing with a swipe of tongue before they were gone again.

"Hmm don't stop," Lexa mumbled.

Her body was still so tired by the night's events that she was happy to lie on her back all day if it meant Clarke would remain atop her like this, half-nude and warm and soft. Lexa's hands traveled to her waist until she finally opened her eyes.

"Good morning," she sleepily said, relieved that she had not dreamed this up. It was unlikely any dream could match up to this reality.

Clarke shook her head.

"It's not a good morning?" Lexa asked with a mild frown.

Clarke pointed toward the clock on the nightstand, which read 12:04pm.

"Oh." Lexa couldn't remember the last time she'd slept this late, but as Sundays went this one was the greatest in a long time.

"Have you been up long?" she asked, pouting when Clarke nodded. "You should've woken me up."

Clarke ran her hand over Lexa's jaw and kissed her again. Lexa smiled, hands going beneath her sleep shirt.

"You know, I'm very naked."

Clarke arched a brow, clearly not seeing the problem.

"And you're not. I thought I took care of that serious mistake last night, but if it's a reoccurring problem I'll be happy to-"

Clarke laughed and then kissed her again. Lexa ran her hands up her bare thighs and managed to sit up. She wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist and lost herself in their embrace, wondering if it would be at all possible to simply do this all day long. When Clarke pulled back and grabbed something on the nightstand, Lexa still felt slightly dazed.

The room finally came into sharper focus when Clarke presented her with a piece of paper. It was a handwritten letter, one that Lexa guessed had been penned while she slept. Clarke sat back and bit her lip.

"Should I read it now?" Lexa asked.

Clarke nodded.

Lexa sat up against one of the pillows, brushing a hand over her eyes to ensure she didn't miss a single word.

Dear Laxe,

Lexa looked up and noticed Clarke's cheeky grin. "One day I'll get you back for that one."

I wish I could tell you these things differently, but amazed as I am by your progress in sign, I'm not as patient as people believe me to be. I’m excited for the day you and I can discuss what has led us both here at length; just the two of us in bed without phones or notes or friends acting as translators. But until that day, here goes:

When I was ten, a car slammed into my bicycle on my way to school. I was thrown off so hard that my helmet cracked in half when I hit a tree head first. When I woke up in a hospital room, my entire body felt broken. My parents asked me if I remembered anything, but I didn't. So my mom asked me if I could tell her my name. When I said it out loud, her face went pale and my dad started crying. I realized whatever had come out wasn't right. Simply put, I know what I want to say, but my brain and my speech muscles just can't relay the message right.

In spite of that, I was lucky. I had a lot of people helping me and I made it out okay. With time I managed fluent ASL and speech therapy helped me relearn how to mouth out some words, though with long sentences I usually end up mouthing something that doesn't even look like the same word. I'm sorry if that confuses you one day.

Lexa shook her head. "Don't be sorry for confusing me. I'll just have to learn faster."

About a year later, I noticed that my mark looked weird. Like someone had rubbed their finger over it and it wasn't as sharp anymore. I should've probably been more concerned, but… Deep down, I always knew my mark fading had to do with you. I can't really explain how I knew it was connected to you - to how you felt about it. I just did. So even if my own parents panicked, even if some strangers raised their concerns, I was always calm about it.

When I heard you speak to me for the first time, I realized I had to think carefully.

I wanted to answer you so badly. I think you noticed that - you looked so disappointed when I didn't. The truth is, I understood that if I did, my mark would stop fading for good. And maybe we could have been happy for a while, knowing that you and I are destined to be together, but… I think at some point in these past few days you finally set yourself free.

Lexa, you don’t believe in the mark. Even if I told you what words used to be on your wrist, even if you recognized them, I don't think you would place your faith back in the system. I don't think you will ever allow anything or anyone to tell you who to trust your heart with. When my mark started fading, I understood that it was you renouncing the system for your own sake. And I don't want to be a part of something that has caused you so much pain.

I think my mark faded because you don't want to be inevitable. You want to be a choice. A choice someone makes because they want you, not because they need you to feel complete. Not because the world has told them you're theirs. Not because fate has decided for them.

All I've ever wanted, too, was for someone to choose me for who I am. For someone to accept that they'll never hear me say their name. That communication will be hard and that sometimes we will both get frustrated with each other. That I look odd when I laugh.

"Your laugh is my favorite," Lexa murmured absentmindedly, not noticing when Clarke's eyes widened and then she smiled.  

You gave me all of that when you chose me without even knowing I was already yours. So please be sure of the same:  

I choose you. I choose you because you make me happy. Because you're trying to learn a new language for me. Because you have such a big heart. I choose this life with you because I know it'll be worth everything. I know what I wanted my response to be, but I don't know if it matches whatever was once on your wrist. It doesn't matter to me if it did or not. I think there are other ways of knowing when a person is right for you. There are so many ways that these marks have made us forget. That’s what I want to give you: my heart’s conviction that you’re right for me and I’m right for you. We don't need fate, Lexa.

But I understand that it's more difficult for you. Your mark was taken abruptly and this world treated you differently because of it. I understand if you want to know what my words were going to be. And I'll tell you in a heartbeat if that's what you need. I imagine that we'd be able to scrub your name from the registry. That we could be a part of the system again. I'll give you your words back, whether it means closure or a new beginning for you.

Do you want them back?

The letter ended with the simple question, but Lexa found it impossible to look up. Her eyes had filled with tears and she had started trembling. She felt Clarke's hand gently nudge her chin up, her touch so caring that Lexa knew she was safe. When she looked up, she saw that Clarke had grabbed a marker and written the mark back on her own wrist: I love that tomato.

Lexa held her breath. She ran a finger over the words, her heart clenching painfully. Her first reaction was to be angry - angry that she'd been a part of this system all along, yet it had not recognized Clarke's voice. Or perhaps it had - perhaps it had known all along that Clarke would not speak the words she would have if the circumstances had been different.

It wasn't something Lexa could pretend to understand. She looked up into Clarke's eyes and noticed her still holding the marker. Clarke then took her wrist and pointed the marker at it, silently repeating the question she had asked.

Did Lexa want her words back?

It had been so long since she'd seen them. Just two words, short and sweet. She had dreamed about them as a child, questioning what kind of situation might lead to them. She had wondered if they were in response to her own words, or if whatever she replied back would be her soulmate's mark.

And then they had vanished. Dreams turned into nightmares. Questions never answered. Her life had changed because of a simple mark on her skin. Now, Clarke was offering to give it back. But Lexa had everything she needed. Clarke had already given her the certainty that the future was theirs to shape. She took the marker and wrote a simple word on her wrist: Clarke.

"There. Marked."

Clarke smiled and joined their hands together so that her mark pressed against Lexa's. It wasn't lost on her what Clarke was giving her wholeheartedly. Clarke had her family and friends in Polis, but they had yet to know the impact of her being on the registry for the Markless. Lexa had lost work because of it. Lost valuable time and energy. But she knew how to navigate this world now. Nothing would get in the way of Clarke taking it on - she would make sure of it.

She leaned forward and kissed her, whispering thank yous as she clutched the letter close to her heart.

~

After a few hours, Lexa finally agreed with Clarke insisting they needed food and coffee. Though she had assumed they would stay at the hotel, she was happy to follow Clarke when she suggested Coffee on the Moon instead. There, Clarke made a beeline for Raven at the counter, tugging Lexa with her. But Lexa stopped when she noticed someone very familiar coming out of the restroom.

"Anya?" she called out, incredulous. "What are you doing here? Is Tris with you?"

"Uh… Hey. Tris was invited to a weekend at the beach for this rich kid's birthday. It's a whole ordeal."

"Right." Lexa glanced toward Clarke, who was already signing something quite quickly to Raven. When Raven looked her way and gave her a smirk, Lexa felt her cheeks redden. She focused her attention back on Anya, who was looking more and more like she’d been caught doing something she’d vehemently deny. 

"So you decided to drive two hours north for… the coffee?"

"They're good grinds."

"Hm. And that's not a hickey on your neck, is it?"

Anya glared at her. "You know, maybe I wouldn't have ended up on someone else's couch if my friend had answered her phone last night. Or opened her door."

Lexa arched a brow. "I gave you the spare key."

Anya plopped herself down on the chair she had clearly been occupying for some time, if judging by the already two empty coffees on the table. "You're insufferable."

"Feelings aren't poisonous, Anya."

"You're not your usual bitter self - I take it you got laid."

Lexa glanced at Clarke again, who was still chatting while Raven made their coffees.

"Oh, so the whole mark thing got cleared up, huh?" Anya asked with a chuckle.

Lexa's eyes widened. "You knew?"

"Well of course I knew, she's the one who showed me. I figured no one else but you could've said such a weird string of words."

Lexa scowled in disbelief. "You told me-"

"Yeah, yeah, I lied. But I saw the look on your face when you saw her. Knew right then you'd try to figure out if she had a mark and would run the other way when you did. Friends don't let friends fuck up their shot at happiness. Guess it paid off."

Lexa pretended to be upset for just the necessary moment. Anya was right, undoubtedly so. "I guess that makes me the guardian of your own happiness."

"Don't."

"You like Raven."

"Shut up."

"Are you curious about her mark?"

"Her mark is her shop and mine is my kid. I'm good with that."

Lexa nodded in understanding. "You know, I think Tris would like this place a lot."

Anya mulled it over. "Yeah?"

"Great schools, lots of parks, lower rent. I know you want to get her out of that neighborhood."

"Hm."

"And there are opportunities for you too. You're the one who coached me through my interviews - you'd get a job even faster."

“You sure you’re not just sick of being so far from me?” Anya asked.

Lexa smiled. “That too.”

~

While Clarke and her made their way toward the heart of the city, Lexa found herself comparing it to their first date. She had been so full of hope then, but it had still been so new. Now, with Clarke’s name well hidden beneath the sleeve of her sweater, and with Clarke’s hand in hers, there was nothing unsteady about her hope. Clarke was right: they didn’t need fate. 

It would not always be as easy as strolling down the street hand-in-hand while they sipped on their coffees. It wouldn’t be easy to always make each other laugh in moments of doubt. 

But whatever the world told them, what they shared was not settling. Their feelings were not pale imitations of what others had. Lexa had never felt stronger, knowing that they were embracing the uncertainty of the future with their trust firmly placed in each other.  

[guinevere-beck-fanboy]

Joe Goldberg Character Analysis

This is my character analysis of Joe Goldberg, the villain protagonist of the Netflix show You. I will tell it in order of chronological events of his lifetime:

1. Joe as a child

As a child Joe lives with his mother and his father. His father physically abuses his mother and seems to have extreme paranoia and jealousy issues.

Joe loves and cares strongly for his mother as shown by the fact that his father once tortured him to try and get him to spill some secrets of his mother and yet little Joe withstood the torture and didn’t spill. Also when Joe and his mother leave to live with his mum’s new boyfriend who ends up beating her up, Joe takes a gun and shoots his step father dead to save his mother.

We also see that being with his mother means the world to Joe as he gives us a big speech about her being his “home”. This naturally leads onto Joe hiding from social services when they come to take him away from his mother after she takes the fall for his step father’s death. 

Joe ends up in the care of Mr Mooney, a book store owner, owns a book store named after him “Mooney’s”. Mr Mooney raises Joe to be the manager of Mooney’s when he grows up. He gives Joe duties in helping him run his shop and once when Joe failed them he locked him in a cage in the basement of the shop. After a while Mooney let Joe out and persuaded Joe that he had become better as a result of being in the cage and that Mooney locked him in there in the first place out of love. 

2. Joe as an adult, prior to the pilot

Joe grows up and dates Candace Stone. He cherishes their relationship as seen by the fact that when she tries to leave him he kidnaps her and takes her on a picnic to try and reawaken her feelings for him. 

Joe finds out that Candace cheated on him for a man named Elijah Thornton. Joe hunts down Elijah and finds him on the side of a rooftop. He confronts Elijah and states that he has read Candace’s phone and has seen Elijah push her around and be cruel to her. 

Joe commits his second murder and pushses Elijah off the rooftop, to his death. Why did Joe do this? I can see three possibilities:

1. He was mad at Elijah for homewrecking his relationship with Candace

2. His claims about Elijah were true, he had pushed Candace around and was a jerk to her so Joe got mad

3. A combination of these two things

One thing is for sure: this murder shows us that Joe has extreme anger issues.

Joe actually is shown feeling extreme guilt for this murder. As soon as Elijah lands and dies Joe pulls a shocked and horrified expression. When he visits Mooney for help he looks haunted and with clear regret in his voice says “I killed him..”. Mooney tells Joe he thinks he was right to kill Elijah. 

3. Joe and Beck

Next thing I’m going to analyse is Joe’s relationship with Beck. 

Joe is deeply obsessed with being in a relationship with Beck. He stalks her and steals her phone and reads all her text conversations to keep track of her. When she discovers his creepy box he takes her captive to not lose her and get her to love him again.

Beck rejecting Joe really sets him off. That is what led to him murdering her. Beck broke up with him, so he choked her to death. What makes me say that, that was the motive? Well..

In season 2 when Forty quotes what Beck said when she was rejecting Joe to him (under the impression from the book Joe and Beck wrote that she said those things to Dr Nicky) Joe attempts to strangle Forty to death as a result of what he is saying, remembering how Beck said it to him. 

Earlier in season 2 we saw Joe see a hallucination of Beck, with dark marks on her neck. Implying that he killed her via strangling. 

Despite Joe’s horrific treatment of Beck I believe he does actually care about her. When he breaks into Dr Nicky’s office and hears her audio files reveal her saying she thinks she would be better off without him he decides to let her go. Despite desperately wanting to kill Dr Nicky he chooses not to as Beck told him she doesn’t think he is capable of murder. 

Speaking about Joe’s near murder of Dr Nicky, I believe it is a parallel to Joe’s murder of Elijah.

Joe murdered Elijah after Candace cheated on Joe for him. Joe was going to murder Nicky after he found out Beck cheated on him for Nicky. 

Also as Joe is contemplating murdering Nicky, he remembers what Mooney said to him after he informed Mooney he murdered Elijah (”some people deserve to die Joe”) and contrasts it with Beck’s “you’re not a killer Joe”. 

To top it off I believe the Elijah and Nicky cheating storylines take place in the same episode. 

The only difference is that Joe goes through with killing Elijah but doesn’t go through with killing Nicky. What is this contrast supposed to show? That Beck has a more moralising influence on Joe than Candace did? I’m not actually too sure.

4. Joe and Benji

Now onto Joe and Benji. 

When Joe first begins his quest to meet and get together with Beck he discovers that Benji is her boyfriend and a horrible one. He is never around for Beck other than for sex and cheats on her. Despite this Beck stays with him. 

Joe kidnaps Benji and locks him in the cage in the basement of Mooney’s. Why is this? I can see a few possibilities:

1. Like how Joe thinks Mooney locking him in the cage changed him for the better, he wants to make Benji a better person. Joe seems appawled at Benji’s mistreatment of Beck, so this is possible.

2. The obvious possibility: Joe just wanted Benji out the way so he could go out with Beck.

3. Joe wants to free Beck from Benji’s awfulness.

4. A combination of two or all three of these possibilities.

I personally think at least the *main* motive for the kidnapping is definetly number 2. Joe does loads of horrible stuff throughout the season that he says he is doing “for Beck”. Each one of these things however, are things that obviously will help Joe out in his quest to get and keep Beck. Another example of one of these acts is him killing Peach. Joe claims to be killing Peach because he wants to free Beck of Peach’s abuse, but Peach also gets in the way of Joe’s relationship with Beck. Therefore by killing her Joe protects his relationship with her. It would be a fairly big coincidence if Joe really was doing all this for Beck and just happened to be better off after doing them. 

Based on this we see Joe’s obsession to get and keep Beck entails a lot of selfishness. Him getting to go out with Beck means more to him than a human being’s freedom. 

Despite being a murderous man, murder isn’t something Joe finds 100% easy to do. As stated with Elijah, Joe is filled with guilt after murdering him. This is why I think Joe doesn’t kill Benji as soon as he kidnaps him. However after awhile he gathers up the strength to do so and does. Like the kidnapping, the murder was done at least mainly, to get Benji out the way of him and Beck being together. 

Therefore the murder shows us even more how selfish Joe is when it comes to dating Beck. Not only is a human being’s freedom of less importance to him than going out with her, another human being’s life is also.

5. Joe and Peach 

Joe as we see really doesn’t like Peach. It’s fairly obvious why: as said before she is getting in the way of him having a nice relationship with Beck. He well and truly despises her for this. Although maybe the fact that she really does treat Beck like garbage might play a part in this, the main factor is definetly her being in his way. 

This shows us again how selfish Joe is when it comes to Beck. Another human life he has taken to preserve his relationship with her. 

6. Joe and Karen

Joe becomes a real heartbreaker here. 

Joe goes out with Karen not because he is into her but because he is heartbroken after giving up on Beck. Then when Beck is into him again ... He dumps Karen and goes out with her. 

7. Joe and Paco 

Joe and Paco.

I’ve seen people debate over whether Joe really cares about Paco. I say yes, he does. 

I think Joe’s murder of Ron proves this. Joe sees Ron about to beat up Paco and Joe then kills Ron. Joe gets nothing out of this, if anything he’s now in a worse place as he has another murder to cover up. But he does it anyway. Because Joe truly cares about Paco. Everything he did for him was out of genuine care and kindness. 

Joe sees that Paco is being abused by his mother’s boyfriend and is distressed at seeing his mother being abused so Joe decides to try and fix things for Paco. And in the end he does. 

8. Joe and Claudia

Joe and Claudia’s relationship is fairly simple. He initially sees her as a part of the problem for not leaving Ron. He seems to think she keeps him around due to stuff related to her drug addiction. So Joe and Karen get her off the drugs and Joe thinks its all over. Except Ron is still in the picture.

Joe meets Claudia in the hospital after Ron gives her a concussion and angrily confronts her for the fact Ron is still in the picture. Claudia explains to Joe that Ron is a parole officer and has connections that can see to it that Paco is removed from her custody regardless of whether he should or shouldn’t be. That is why she does not leave him, she doesn’t want to lose her son. After hearing this Joe is apologetic. He has realised that Claudia isn’t to blame.

9. Joe and Ron

Joe and Ron are natural enemies. Joe is determined to fix Paco’s life and Ron is the one who has broken it in the first place.

10. Joe’s less murderous persona in the second season

In season 2 Joe shows a much less murderous side. He decides to try and not kill people and when he does he gets very disturbed. Why has this change come about?

I feel like this is revealed after Joe kills Jasper. He sees a hallucination of Beck that tells him off for killing Jasper and for killing her. Joe says sorry, in a very regretful, quiet and dramatic way. She also states that he is scared he will hurt Love like he did Beck.

Joe does not want to kill anymore because he feels guilty about killing Beck. As stated before, Joe did care about her and then he killed her. And he doesn’t want to do the same to Love. So he wants to stop killing altogether.

However in the end Forty quotes Beck as she was rejecting Joe after locking him in his own cage. This drives Joe over the edge and he tries to murder Forty. He loses himself remembering Beck’s rejection of him and fails to no longer be murderous. Even if Forty did stop Joe from succeeding in the kill, he still tried to.

He again loses himself when he suspects Forty has cracked that he was Beck’s murderer. He gets out a shard of glass and attempts to murder him out of fear of the consequences of Forty having this knowledge.

Forty then tells Joe that he loved a woman named Sofia and she rejected him so he murdered her. Joe relates strongly to Forty and embraces him. Like Forty, Joe cared strongly for Beck and was attracted to her, and ended up murdering her for her rejection of him. He relates to Forty and is touched.

11. Joe and Ellie

Joe for some reason from the get go really cares about Ellie. I actually can’t put my finger on why but it seems clear he does. He takes it upon himself to protect her from Henderson, the child raping pedophile who she is an aquaintance of and saves her after Henderson drugs her and makes her unconscious. 

At the end he prevents her from going into care and funds her new independent life for her again showing how much he cares.

12. Joe and Delilah

At first Joe and Delilah are merely aquaintances, but after they hang out one night and have sex they end up becoming close friends. As well as Ellie, Joe strongly cares about Delilah. He was willing to give up on his life in the USA and spend the rest of his life in Mexico so that he wouldn’t have to kill Delilah to prevent himself being arrested for killing Henderson. 

Also another thing to note is that Delilah is a parallel character to Karen Minty. Joe has sex with Delilah after Love leaves him like how Joe had sex with Karen after Beck left him. 

I would also say she is a parallel character to Claudia. Claudia is Paco’s carer and Delilah is Ellie’s carer.

13. Joe and Henderson

Henderson is a parallel character to Ron. Joe’s child friend in season 1, Paco was tormented by Ron and his child friend in season 2, Ellie is tormented by Henderson. Joe decides to protect the kids from their tormentors. 

Like with Ron, Joe and Henderson are natural enemies. 

14. Joe and Love 

Because Joe is determined not to hurt Love the way he did Beck, I think he cares about her in a similar way he does Beck. Like with Beck he also wants to be in a relationship with Love. 

After Love reveals her true colours however Joe seems to be angry at her and dislike her. This goes to the point that he even tries to murder Love. 

I believe the main reason for Joe’s dislike of Love is not so much because she is a murderer but rather *who* she murdered: Delilah.

As established before Joe well and truly cares about Delilah and Ellie. Now Love has killed Delilah and as a result truly hurt Ellie. As a result Joe is absolutely furious at Love and is out for her blood.

In addition to this Joe’s reaction to finding out Love’s true nature is “you killed Delilah!” not “you’ve killed people!”, “you’re a murderer!” or “you killed Delilah and Candace!”. Love showed him that she killed Candace and told him she killed her and Forty’s au pair Sofia. Yet Joe doesn’t react to that, only that she killed Delilah. And he also asks “what about Ellie?”. His objections to Love all seem to be about Delilah and Ellie, not generally the fact that she’s messed up like him. 

Also as I am writing this I just had a thought; what if Joe is weirded out by Love? She is obsessed with him and is willing to murder to be with him as she has shown? Yes Joe himself is like this, but now that he is the victim of it, maybe he finds it weird and freaky and that has a part in this?

That being said I still think he is mad about Delilah and Ellie as bringing them up is his initial reaction to Love’s revelation. 

During Love’s lesbian friends wedding Joe realises that he and Love are alike and they have both done similar horrible things. 

That being said its clear that despite Joe’s realisation that he does not have the right to judge Love, he is no longer attracted to her. And I think that this is because of the revelation, he was attracted to who he thought she was prior to it, he doesn’t find who she actually is very attractive. I reckon personally that this comes down to him being freaked out by her obsessional yandere murderous nature. 

15. A general summary of Joe Goldberg

To summarise Joe as a human being, I’d say he is a horrible person without a shed of doubt. 

But despite overall being horrible, he is a caring and considerate person. I think his general charm in interacting with other characters whether they be major or minor is genuine. However that doesn’t mean he is a good person because..

He is also very selfish and very aggressive. He is prepared to do great harm to others to get what he wants, and if you annoy him like Elijah did you’ll regret it. 

When it comes to his friends (Paco, Ellie, Delilah) and his love interests (Beck, Love) though he is far less selfish and actually quite selfLESS. His murder of Beck didn’t come down to selfishness, it came down to him being horrified that she was rejecting him. The great lengths and sacrifices he makes for them speak a lot to his care about them. 

16. Parallels

One last thing I want to explain is something I’ve touched on all throughout this post: the characters of season 1 and 2 are parallels. The parallels are:

Beck and Love: Joe’s love interests

Paco and Ellie: Joe’s kid friends he protects

Ron and Henderson: The tormentors of the kids he protects them from

Claudia and Delilah: Carers of Joe’s kid friends

Karen and Delilah: After Beck leaves Joe he has sex with Karen, after Love leaves Joe he has sex with Delilah

(Possibly) Peach and Forty: In that they are each competition for Joe when it comes to the love interest, Peach is a love rival while Forty tries to have Love to himself. The parallel could also be a way of portraying Joe’s character development, when Peach got in his way he murdered her, while Joe tries to get along with Forty being in the picture. 

[x1musings]

“did you just call me your girlfriend/boyfriend?”+ “are you jealous right now?”

☆pairing: hangyul x reader

☆request: #35 + #94 from 101 prompts by anon

☆genre/au: fluff (but slightly angsty), suggestive, fwb-to-lovers au

☆word count: 1.7k

☆a/n: ok i lied, i said that this will be fluffy, but it ended up being angst-ier (?? is that a word?) than i intended. it was harder to get back into writing than i expected, so this took a while to write. but i hope you guys like it. please let me know your thoughts!! i love reading your reactions, whether it’s through tags, replies or asks so please send me all of your thoughts/reactions/criticism etc.

☆song recs: get mine get yours by christina aguilera, gotta love you by mario and urs by niki (i listened to so many niki songs as i wrote this so if you haven’t heard her songs, go check them out! if you want more recs, hmu)

you awake to the feeling of soft kisses on your bare shoulder, fingers stroking your stomach, and the sun barely peeping through the curtain. you don’t open your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on your lips as you bask in the soft touches you were feeling across your skin. 

“you’re awake.” you could feel him smile against your neck.

you open your eyes, squinting as you adjust to the light streaming though the curtains. “good morning.”

hangyul lifts his head from your neck, and wiggles his eyebrows as he says, “want me to make this morning even better?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “how are you this needy already? aren’t you tired from last night?”

“nope, not one bit.”

he positions himself over you, wrapping your legs around his waist. he attacks the other side of your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving marks as he trails his way up to your jawline. you tangle your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of him all over you. he peppers soft kisses along your jawline, until he gets to your lips. just as he’s about to kiss your lips, your phone rings.

hangyul groans quietly at the sound of the familiar ringtone, as he rolls off you to let you answer the call. he knew exactly who was calling, and he knew that you would never let him go to voicemail. hangyul hated the way you smile as you pick up the phone, the way that your voice sounds oh-so-chipper as you greet him, and the way you are enthusiastically agreeing to meet up with him. it was like hangyul wasn’t even there, and he hated that the most. the way that you made him feel like he meant nothing to you.

it wasn’t always this way for him. at first, it was easy being with you. it was just best friends fooling around together whenever they needed to blow off some steam. it was just stress-relief, he had convinced himself. he was perfectly fine with being your wingman, helping you with your relationship problems. but now, he hated the thought of you being with someone else, especially not with one of his friends. he knew he was entering dangerous territory, but he couldn’t do anything to stop himself from catching feelings.

he was so caught up in his angry thoughts that he didn’t realise that you had ended the call, turning on your side to look at him.

“whatcha thinking about?”

“nothing,” he huffed. “shouldn’t you be going to meet him now?”

you took in his clenched jaw, narrowed eyes glaring at the ceiling, and fingers tapping on his bare chest. it couldn’t be, you think to yourself. “are you jealous right now?”

hangyul scoffs as he gets out of bed. “why would i be jealous? it’s not like we’re dating.”

you nod slowly as you watched him pull his shirt on and make his way to the bathroom, knowing better than to push him when he gets in this mood. “will i see you later at seungyoun’s dinner party?”

“of course.” he slams the bathroom door closed, and you take it as a sign to leave him to his thoughts.

you sigh as you fall back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. you liked what you had with hangyul; it was easy being with him. the sex was great, and the pillow talk after was even better. you could open up to him in a way that you couldn’t with other people because you always felt safe with him. but did you want an actual relationship with him? what if you screwed up this relationship like you did with all of your previous relationships? and worse, what if it ruined your friendship? could you risk it?

you shake the thoughts out of your head. just because it was weird between you two now, didn’t mean that hangyul suddenly wanted a relationship. you were jumping the gun; there was no reason to overthink this when it could just be you reading the situation wrongly. you get out of bed, pulling your clothes on.

you pause at the bathroom door. “hey, i have to go help seungyoun with his party now, so i’ll see you later?” you wait a few minutes for a reply, but when you don’t hear anything, you walk away.

you somehow managed to keep all thoughts about hangyul out of your head throughout the day, but when you see him enter the apartment, you couldn’t think of anything else but him. his hair is pushed back, and he is dressed up in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, black ripped jeans and black sneakers. and he had never looked better. you spend the night trying your hardest to concentrate on what your friends are talking about, but your attention kept going back to hangyul, like your whole body is hyperaware of his presence. 

hangyul didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was staring at you. he watched as you spoke to seungyoun, and he couldn’t tell what bothered him more: the smile that you’re wearing on your lips that seemed to be reserved for seungyoun or the way that he kept touching you. every few seconds, his hands would move from your hair to your shoulder or your arm, and each touch had hangyul biting his inner cheek. it was when seungyoun moved in close to whisper in your ear that hangyul snapped. 

he put his drink down and walks over to you two. he slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. he turns to seungyoun with a forced smile. “so, what are you and my girlfriend talking about?”

seungyoun raises his eyebrow, a barely hidden smirk playing on his lips. “girlfriend?”

you force a laugh out, trying to save this situation. “i think he’s drunk right now. come on, let’s sober you up.”

you pull him away from seungyoun, making your way to first empty room you could find. you push him in and close the door behind you. you turn to find hangyul standing right behind you, caging you between his body and the door.

“did you just call me your girlfriend?”

“yes.” his voice and eyes are devoid of the usual teasing, instead filled with sincerity.

 “why? you were the one who always said that this is just sex, that we weren’t dating. you even said that this morning, so what changed?”

hangyul looks away from you, trying to find the words to explain exactly what had changed. sometime between this morning and this moment, he had given up pretending that he didn’t have feelings for you. he had made up his mind to tell you the truth tomorrow, but when he saw you with seungyoun, something in him snapped. he couldn’t wait anymore, not when he could lose you to the guy you clearly had a crush on. when he turned back to you, his determination and confidence is clear on his face. he didn’t have a big speech ready, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“i love you.”

he doesn’t wait for your response before crashing his lips against yours. he is desperate, he knew that he couldn’t articulate his feelings for you with his words, so he had to show you. each of his touches, strokes and tugs laced with silent i love you’s and please choose me’s. and you lose yourself in his frantic touches.

you don’t know how many minutes passes as you kissed him back, but soon enough you two broke apart, still staying close to each other as he rests his forehead against yours. the room is silent, besides the sound of the two of you catching your breath. you open your eyes and take in the way hangyul looked. you could see the resignation on his face, it was clear as day even with his eyes closed.

you break the silence by laughing. “i hate you.”

hangyul opens his eyes and stares at you with shock. “what?”

you glare at him, but you knew there was no fire behind it. “you made me lose the bet i had with seungyoun.”

hangyul pulls away from you slightly, his brow furrows as he asks, “what bet?”

“well, seungyoun thought that you had feelings for me, but i denied it. so, he bet that he could make you confess by the end of the night and i took him up on it. you made me lose, asshole.”

there’s a beat of silence as hangyul processes what you said. he groans, dropping his head on your shoulder as he realises that his friend had played him. “that’s why he kept touching you.”

“wait, that’s why you came over like that? because he kept touching me?” you laugh in shock.

hangyul lifts his head, pouting slightly. “yes! i was jealous of how close you two were and how you were smiling at him.”

you put your arms on his shoulder, tangling your fingers in his hair. “and how exactly was i smiling at him?”

the sadness in his eyes broke your heart. “like he was the only person in the world that mattered to you.”

“hangyul…” he pulls away from you completely, leaving you feeling empty at the lack of contact between you.

“look, if you’re going to reject me, just do it. i’m not sure if i can go back to how we were, but if that’s what you want, i’ll try… for you.” he stares at the wall beside you as he speaks, knowing the second he looked at you, he would break down.

you lean back against the door. you didn’t know how to fix this, so you decide to be honest.

“i do like you, hangyul. i just don’t know whether it’s completely platonic feelings or if there’s romantic feelings.” you step closer to him, pressing your hand over his heart. “but i’m willing to find out. if that’s what you want… we can try dating.”

his head swings in your direction, his eyes wide with shock. he expected you to reject him, but you… didn’t. “really?”

“on one condition.”

“anything.”

“you have to be patient with me. you know my history with dating, so please be patient with me.”

he smiles, and you are in awe of how bright his smile looks. “i promise.”

he moves in to kiss you, but the beep from your phone makes him freeze. you pull out your phone to look at the notification.

[txt] i won. you owe me pizza

[thejacketandthehook]

The Art of Pretending 4/?

Title: The Art of Pretending 4/?

Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)

Summary:  Killian Jones needs a family and needs one now. In order to impress his boss, Killian hires a single mother and her son to pretend to be his wife and son for the weekend. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Rating: Teen (for language)

Words:  13,479

Author’s Notes: Hello all! Here is my submission for the @captainswanmoviemarathon! This is based off of the Lifetime movie, “Borrowed Hearts,” starring Eric McCormack and Roma Downey. The movie came out in 1997, and I consider it to be one of the first made-for-tv Christmas movies.

A couple of years ago I was watching it and thought this would be a fantastic scenario for our favorite Captain and Savior. I wrote it and then stopped, and then started it again, only to stop again. When I saw this movie marathon, I knew instantly this was the movie I wanted to do and I wanted to make sure that I finished it this time.

I hope you enjoy it!

A30

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

TWO YEARS AGO

Emma laughed heartily. “No, no, no, please, Mary Margaret, please tell me you didn’t say that!”

Her best friend was laughing so hard, that she had one hand on Emma’s arm and the other on the table. “I did, Emma. I did –Oh! David’s face turned so red!”

“You threaten three guys that looked like Vikings!” Emma laughed harder. She wasn’t sure if it was the story that was so funny, or the fact that she had three glasses of rum and coke that just made the story funny. “I’m sure David saw his life flash before his eyes!”

Mary Margaret took a deep breath, trying to control her laughter. Some giggles still came through as she said, “But I told you, I’m an excellent marks—mark—marksmmm—I can hit something really well.”

Her four glasses of margaritas were certainly making it harder for Mary Margaret to get her words out, but Emma laughed anyway.

She looked down at her phone and when she noticed that Neal called again, she groaned.

“Neal?” Mary Margaret asked as she raised her (fifth) glass of margarita up to her lips.

“Yeah. Guy can’t take a hint.” I don't want to talk to him."

“Maybe you should just…I don’t know? Ignore him?” she asked in such a way that she wasn’t suggesting it.

Emma sighed. “I wish I could, but--”

“But Henry, yeah." She sobered up before asking, "I thought things were getting better, yeah? Like, I thought you kind of liked him again.”

“I did. But—”

Mary Margaret reached out and grabbed Emma’s bicep. She opened her mouth to say something, looking dead into Emma’s eyes, when she squeezed the bicep again and looked down at it. “God, girl, when do you work out? You’re toned as hell.”

“I’ve got a demanding job and a six-year-old. I work out to relieve stress.”

Mary Margaret let go of Emma’s arm before raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t Neal supposed to help relieve stress too? Or someone else, at least.” she asked with a suggestive wink. Or, at least that’s what she was going for, but it was more like a blink.

“You’d think,” Emma snorted. “I don’t even know the last time I got any ”

“And you’ve haven’t even been married for ten years for that to fizzle out.” Mary Margaret was certainly more direct when she some liberations in her. “I take it there is no spark any more.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Sparks are from Romance novels, and movies made in the 2000s. Nobody has sparks.”

“David and I have sparks.”

“You and David are in another category that no one else will ever live up to.”

Mary Margaret shook her head, and Emma knew that she was going to give her some hope speech that, in all honestly, Emma probably heard about three hundred times already. Before she could fully launch into her speech, Emma grabbed her bag from the table and told her best friend she needed the bathroom.

She walked (more like stumbled) towards through the bar, excusing herself when she bumped into someone and shook her head as she thought about her best friend and her husband. Another category, indeed. Mary Margaret and David made falling in love (and staying in love) look so easy. And while life for Emma Swan hasn’t been easy, love has been even worse.

Just thinking about Neal made Emma so mad she was seeing red. Her thoughts on Neal and how much she currently hated him consuming her, that she stumbled once more into the bathroom door. Only it opened as she fell and a pair of strong arms grabbed her around her waist.

“Aye, watch it love,” said a voice she wasn’t sure she actually heard before. Mainly because it sounded like music to her ears, but also because whoever this man was spoke with an English accent. Kind of like the Tenth Doctor, from Doctor Who. That kind of accent.

“Sorry,” she muttered as she gathered herself. Once she was standing up (semi) straight, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and almost gagged on her spit. For standing in front of her, leaning down just a tad so he was able to look in the eye with no difficulties, was a movie star.

Okay, not really a movie star, but one that certainly looked like he should have been on the main guy in a rom-com. With piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and a five o’clock shadow she was sure would be rough to the touch, he might as well have just walked off of a set.

Emma hadn’t seen herself in a while, but she knew that her mascara was probably rubbed all over her eyes, and some of her make-up was in need of a touch up. She’d count herself lucky if her long blonde hair actually looked good, instead of looking like it needed a good brushing (like it usually did by this point in a night).

“Well, well, well,” the man smiled down at Emma, and Holy. Shit. Seriously, where did this guy come from? “What do we have here?”

“A girl who needs the bathroom,” she insisted.

The man’s smile turned more into a grin. “Of course. What kind of gentleman would I be if I blocked the lady from her destination?”

He didn’t move, and Emma wasn’t steady enough on her feet to push him. “Dude, let me pass.”

He shook his head a little, as though he was lost in thought, and said, “Right. Of course,” and step aside.

Emma walked towards the door and as she went to close it, realized he was still standing there. “What? Are you going to protect me from any dragons?”

He laughed. “Dragons? Lass, what kind of bar do you think this is?”

“Well, you never really know,” she retaliated. “Some dude might be standing in front of the bathroom so he could try to flirt with someone who needs to pee.”

He laughed, and Emma swore she heard bells ringing. “I believe that, yes.”

Who is this guy, Emma thought to herself. She shook her head as she closed the door. A part of her hoped the guy would still be there when she opened it, while the other part of her hoped he was long gone. She didn’t know which side was winning.

When she was finished and opened the door with a paper towel, sure enough the guy was still standing there.

“My hero,” she joked as she took a step into the hallway, holding onto the wall for good measure.

He grinned again, and Emma wished her heart didn’t pound at the sight. Good Lord, this man just grins at her and her heart beats faster than when Neal actually touched her.

“I’m a gentleman,” he retorts.

Emma chuckles. “Sure. Right. A gentleman.”

His grin falters as he asks, “You doubt me, love?”

Leaning a little closer, almost pointing her finger in his face – she might actually be in his face, her equilibrium is completely off right now –she mutters, “You look more like a pirate than a dashing prince.”

She leans back, taking in his whole body, and good Lord, what has she gotten herself into? Wearing a dark button-down shirt with a navy (could be black too, it’s hard to tell in this hallway that isn’t too well lit) vest over it, and dark jeans, this man certainly looks like he walked right out of romance novel. Only, he’s the bad-boy-mama-warned-you-about.

Emma licked her lips. The fact that she herself didn’t have a “mama” who could warn her about anything didn’t faze her right now, like it usually does. This man (and the alcohol) seem to have that effect on her.

“I prefer a dashing rapscallion,” he smirked, a small dimple appearing on his cheek.

And he has dimples?! Emma’s mind screamed.

She shook her head at him, “You’re something else, I tell you.”

He smiled at her, and she was sure that the room tilted just a tad. “I get that a lot.” Looking at her lips before looking back into her eyes, he commented, “Don’t I get something for protecting you against the dragons?”

Her mind was foggy, but now it was crystal clear. It was her turn to smirk. “Really? You ‘protect’ me against imaginary dragons, and you want a favor? What kind of gentleman are you?”

“We discussed this, love,” he said, taking a step closer to her and almost whispering. “A dashing rapscallion.”

Emma could feel the heat in her cheeks, and her heart was pounding in her ears. She didn’t want to admit that this man (whatever his name was), has gotten her more excited in the last ten minutes than Neal has in the last few years.

“You couldn’t handle it,” she flirted.

He raised an eyebrow and watched her carefully. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” he whispered back.

Looking him in the eyes before looking at his lips, Emma made up her mind before she could fully register it. Grabbing his shirt tightly, she pulled him closer to her and smashed her lips against his. And as much as she wanted to admit that he was all talk, he most certainly was not. His lips moved with hers in a rhythm that she has never been able to establish with any other guy she has been with. It was almost like he knew she wanted, which was impossible, because they never even met before.

She kissed him harder, her hands letting go of his shirt to work their way around his neck. He, too, was busy, his hands first around her waist before one hand went into her hair and gently, oh so gently, held onto her golden locks like they were his life-line.

He went to pull back, but Emma took a step closer to him (any closer, honestly, and she would actually be in his pants) and pulled him back in. He didn’t protest, but instead kissed her back even harder.

Finally, the need for air was too great and Emma leaned back, her forehead just grazing his. He was breathing just as deeply as she was, his hands running smoothly though her hair.

“That was—” he started before Emma’s phone rang.

She let go of him and pulled back completely before taking her phone out of her back pocket. It was her babysitter.

“Shit,” she muttered, reading the text. Henry had a nightmare and was crying and calling out for his mother. She looked back up at him, and, though she couldn’t fully tell thanks to the darken hallway, he certainly looked rumpled and a bit…well, almost dazed. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“I—” he started, but she was already backing away.

“Sorry, I don’t usually—This is an emergency.”

Before he could say another word, she was out of his arms and turned back towards the bar. She located Mary Margaret and told her what happened (about Henry, not about the guy she kissed passionately a few minutes ago), before leaving the bar altogether.

She never saw the guy again.

Until now.

Emma shook her head, trying with all of her might to move on from that night. Because, while Killian was…quite something, it was obviously a one-time thing, and she needed to just…forget it.

Unfortunately, it would pop into her mind at the most inconvenient times, like when she was in the shower, making breakfast, or –

“It’s overflowing.”

Quickly looking down, Emma realized that this person’s water glass was most certainly overflowing. Grabbing napkins from the table adjacent to it, she soaped up as much as she could before telling the patron that she was going to get a towel. Once she returned and cleaned up the mess, with more apologizes, she turned back to the kitchen.

“You’ve been awfully distracted lately. Something on your mind?”

Giving a quick glance her way, Emma saw the wolfish grin. Shaking her head, and focusing (seriously focusing) on measuring the correct amount of sugar into the containers, she replied, “No.”

Ruby chuckled. “Oh, Emma. You might be able to tell when people are lying to you, but you are a horrible liar yourself. Girl, just talk to me. I know you want to.”

“And I know that I want you to do the job that I pay you to do,” Granny said from behind them. Emma almost kissed her for saving her from this conversation. “Get back to work, Ruby.”

“Yes ma’am,” she replied in a huff, obviously disappointed that she’s not getting the information she clearly wanted.

Emma shook her head before muttering to the older woman, “Did you tell her?”

“It slipped out. I’m sorry. The second it came out of my mouth, I knew that I made a huge mistake.”

Of course, Emma had to tell Granny why she wouldn’t be working on her two busiest days of the week. She tried to make it sound classier than it truly was, because Emma wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being paid to pretend to be married to some dude.

Though, people do pretend to be other people for money. It’s called acting. Still, it made Emma a bit uncomfortable. Though, it might have something to do with the fact that she’s kind of, in a small way, attracted to Killian.

But she wasn’t too worried about that part. Because it would only be for 48 hours – less than that really, when you take into account that for 16 hours of that they will be asleep. In different bedrooms. Like it should be.

Emma was walking into a disaster.

“Think nothing of it,” Emma insisted to calm the woman’s nerves. “I’m sure that it would have come out sooner or later.”

“You need Friday, Saturday, and Sunday?”

Emma sighed. “Well, Friday afternoon. Closer to evening. I’m taking Henry over right after I pick him up from school.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Um,” Emma bit her lip, unsure of how to even continue. “We need to prepare. I…Henry and I need to get outfits ready and bring some things from the apartment to make it look…Well, to make his house look like home, if that makes any sense.”

Granny nodded. “Makes perfect sense, actually. Though they better not ruin that hair,” she said, gently touching Emma’s golden locks.

She gave a small laugh. “I don’t think they’re going to change that. No, I know he’s hiring some people to dress me and Henry up, for a lack of better term. So it looks like…”

“Like you come from money?”

“Or at least married into it, yeah.” Emma put down the sugar container and the cup she was using to measure it, and whispered to Granny something that has been bothering her. “It’s just…Granny, I don’t think I can act. You know, like I have money. I have been barely able to get by with what I make here. Tips included. I don’t think—”

“Emma Swan, you don’t need to act like anyone else other than yourself. If Kevin –”

“Killian,” Emma corrected.

But Granny ignored her and kept talking. “—Doesn’t appreciate that your saving his ass from whatever the hell it is that he got himself swept up in, honey, you march right out of that house and don’t you dare look back.”  

Emma laughed. “I’ll do exactly that.”

~*~

“David, what in bloody hell is going on?”

Killian came home to find…well, just about everything in his house was gone. His expensive couch, gone. His formal dining room, gone. All of his old books, gone. Instead there was a couch that was probably expensive, but it looked worn in, with two winged chairs on either side of it different colors, but still kind of looking like a set. His long table gone, instead there a slightly smaller table with chairs that aren’t in perfect condition. His books (he hopes were put into storage) are replaced with books that range from Jane Austen to J.M. Barrie along with some pictures of Emma and Henry, Henry growing up, and one photo that was photoshopped of Emma, Henry, and Killian all smiling on the beach. Killian picks that photo up and if you look at it really closely, you can see that it’s a fake, but otherwise he might have thought this actually happened.

“Hey!” David said, coming out of kitchen with a bag of chips. “Yeah, we’re just moving the furniture around, trying to make it look like a family.”

“And where is my actual furniture?”

“In storage.  Don’t worry, I didn’t throw out your precious First Edition of Moby Dick.”

“I don’t have a –” Killian looked at the huge pile of toys in the corner of the room and gestured to it. “David?”

He looked at Killian before shrugging. “Dude, you’re supposed to have an eight-year-old boy. Just be glad if it actually stays in that pile.”

Killian shook his head before putting both hands on the sofa in front of him (and damn it, it’s actually really soft). David wrapped the bag in of itself before placing it on the table behind the couch and asking, “Just what did you think this weekend was going to entail? We need to make it look real. So why do you have a stick up your butt?”

“I don’t know. I just…I thought I was living a good life, you know, and then…I realized it was, how did you say it? Cool.”

“You know that I love your house,” David defended.

But he waved him off. “Aye, I know. It’s not that. It’s just…maybe I haven’t been living my life the way I expected. Bloody hell, I’m almost thirty-five and I have to pretend to be married with a kid. I’m not even dating anyone to make it seem real.”

“Look I know you and Emma just met—”

“We met two years ago.”

David was silent before saying softly, “That’s right. And I don’t want to know, right?”

“I didn’t sleep with her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, I definitely heard enough,” David said, getting up from the couch. He moved to grab the bag of chips off the table before he said, “You know that if you hurt her, I’m going to hurt you, yeah?”

Killian nodded. “Understood.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he rocked on his heels once, twice, three times before stopping and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Okay, mate, when will this be done?”

David had a box of his own on the coffee table that was labeled Photos in a handwriting that was very much not David’s. He didn’t recognize it, though it did look feminine. If he had to wager, he would bet that it was Emma’s box.

Taking a picture frame out of the box, David sat down on the couch before putting his hand back into the box and taking out a smaller one. Once that was opened, he pulled out a stack of photos and Killian almost groaned at the thought that now they were going to have to go through that bloody pile of photos so it would look like Emma and Henry lived in the house and weren’t just visiting.

“Not sure,” David responded distractedly. He was looking through the pile, one by one, before finding one that seemed to appease him. Flipping the six by four frame over, David opened it up before placing the photo in it. Once he was securing it, he continued. “The movers said they only needed a couple of hours, and Regina claims they should have everything in place by ten o’clock.”

“Tonight?” Killian looked at his watch. It was barely past five. That means they were going to be in his house for another five hours? Bloody hell.

Getting up and taking the frame with him, David placed the photo on the bookshelf before going back to the couch to take out another frame and pick out another photo. Killian wished that he had a glass of rum on him, or anything really that had alcohol in it, because holy hell, this was going to be a process, wasn’t it?

“Why do you seem so shocked?” David asked as he sat back down. “They’re trying to make it look like a family lives here, especially one with a kid. Do you really not know that children have a lot of things?”

Killian walked over towards the photo David placed on the shelf. “I’m sure I did—Bloody hell!”

“What?!”

Killian turned back towards David, the picture frame in his hand. “Why is there a photo of Emma, Henry, and myself standing in front of Cinderella’s Castle?”

“Oh,” David sighed, relieved that that was all it was. Killian was just about to loose it, but luckily his friend was eerily calm. “They photoshopped that. To make it look like you took vacations together. You know, as a family.”  David stopped what he was doing and focused on his friend. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem sort of…jumpy.”

“I’m not jumpy,” he yelled, but when the response was only a raised eyebrow, Killian decided to answer a little more truthfully. “I kind of am, I guess. It’s just…mate this is a big deal. One that might not come around again, and I…I don’t like being dishonest. It’s one thing to win your battles, but it’s another to win fairly.”

“You think that just because you’re pretending to have a family that you have a leg up over the competition?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. I think it’s also that I don’t really know Emma or Henry, so how can I--?”

“Oh!” David sat up straight, his eyes wide, an idea forming in his mind. “We should have you three sit around.” Before he could explain further, David grabbed his phone and began typing something rapidly.

When his friend got up off the couch, his phone still glued to his hand, Killian sighed and sat down on the vacate seat. He leaned over the box and saw a picture that must have been a real one. It was Emma and a much younger Henry, probably not even four-years-old, sitting in front of a Christmas tree. Emma was smiling down at the boy who was grinning at the camera with a missing tooth and a toy car held tightly in his lap. Killian focused on Emma’s face, the loving way she was looking at her son and sighed.

He knew, without a doubt, that he was in way over his head.