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#how could i not fall for him he owns a corner rounder
brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 month
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crimzon ruze dating an artist
i’m gonna be real the hate mail stream changed me as a person
yhis one is about ruze and a reader that likes to make visual art, but if this gets some reception might be interested in writing more headcanons for writers, musicians, programmers, dancers…
tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, headcanons
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
let’s get it out of the way: ruze isn’t just a viciously violent mercenary menace, he’s also a viciously violent mercenary menace that ✨ loves creativity ✨
he respects people that can use their imagination, like inventing new horrific ways to kill a corruption beast, or making someone’s day worse in a way that can’t be replicated
so naturally he gravitates to people who put their imagination to use through their own art medium. he has a type for creators
one of the best feelings ever is being able to watch an artist in their element, focused on their vision
there’s always so much to admire. their hands wrapped around the pencil, the way they squint and stare at the lines… he could go on
if he’s really lucky maybe the artist will move around while drawing a character, just so they can use their own body as reference. it’s so cute seeing them lift a hand and compare it to the one they were drawing, even the pout they do when they erase the last few strokes, all frustrated but ready to try again. especially the pout
he doesn’t do the whole “talking about your feelings” thing so when he sees a well-done drawing, well, that just makes admitting it all the more redundant. who needs words when a picture is worth a thousand of them?
ruze himself isn’t exactly an artist, but he’s tried before. it’s tough work. anyone that can control their pen that well deserves respect
if you’re an artist and your love language is quality time then dating ruze is a dream. he’ll do work in the same room as you while you’re preoccupied with your latest piece
it’s just the right amount of togetherness, but you’re able to do your own thing, and so is he. this feeling gets even better with banter, music, anything
he doesn’t mention it often but ruze also likes to work with his hands too. his favorite is papercrafting
you’re the only one in the world that knows he has a diy scrapbook full of photos and embellishments and, yes, some of your doodles and scrapped art you let him keep
always wants to display your art in some way. it’s personal and makes him feel like his house is a little livelier
if you need more space or expensive supplies for your art like a firing kiln, large canvases, pressure pots, or other equipment, then he’ll drop off the face of the earth for, like, a week, then come back with a bounty collected and a cut of it for your art fund
ruze likes the challenge of hunting down and fighting a fearsome monster, and how you brighten up as you plan a visit to a local craft store
he likes to ask questions about what you’re working on. this can be anything from art history to oc lore to symbolism to techniques
it makes especially good conversation at night when he’s about to go to bed with you
…there have definitely been times ruze was the first to sleep because you got hit with inspiration at 1 am though
it would be hypocritical if he were to make you rest, but just don’t overdo it and wake up cranky past your alarm, alright?
and do some stretches, including your hands, and your back. you’re literally dating someone who uses his muscle to make money. you better be treating your body nicely while you’re making art
you should be getting accidental paper cuts, not carpal tunnel because SOMEONE didn’t stick their arms straight out and bend their wrists back while keeping their fingers straight for 10 seconds, then bend their wrists down to the floor for another 10 seconds. not naming names
the type of mf that will sneak up and make some form of sudden physical contact (a kiss? bite? lick? annoying poke to your side?) so your back straightens and then tells you to keep it straight instead of giving you more affection
would NEVER respond to someone talking about their art with “can you draw me?”
that’s probably his greenest flag actually
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi
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adaptacy · 8 months
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Survivor!Leland Dad Headcanons
i am so so so so head over heels for this gorgeous ball of fluff i cannot even explain. literally spent the past like 4 hours rambling about him i cant get over him hes so MMM
Cw: mild angst, i'll make the angsty paragraphs purple so you can avoid them if you just want fluff :)
!!WARNING!!: you will get baby fever.
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Leland is a country boy at heart, and he definitely chooses to settle down with you on a small ranch complete with a few acres of property, just in case you ever want to have livestock or expand, but also because he wants room to build playsets and make sure his kids are getting out and have space to play outside.
He'd buy the wood to make a playset, and he'd get all of his dad's tools together and stand out back, staring at the pile of scrap, trying to figure out what to do with it. He wasn't all that familiar with it, but he wanted something handmade- he wanted to be able to build a play set so he could tell his kids about it. You'd go out back and chat with him about it, and every time he explained his vision to you, it was something different.
After about a month, you ended up just purchasing one of those store-made play sets and gave him some of the supplies as well as the instructions. However, he used the wood parts he'd gotten for the bulk of it. The playset ended up looking a little strange- most of it was natural wood, but then the roof and stairs were plastic, and the slide, and the railings, but it had a bit of charm to it. And Leland loved bragging about how he built it himself. You still remember the large grin he wore when he presented it to you, and then leaned down, speaking to your stomach and telling your baby how about all the fun they were going to have on it.
He spent the next two-weeks baby proofing it. Padding everywhere, he managed to static-proof the slide, he added extra stability to the fences, and it ended up looking even more... unique. You teased him about it, telling him that kids were going to find a way to get hurt no matter how much he baby proofed it, but he was stubborn that some was better than none. You let him get away with it, until...
He started baby proofing the house. Some, you understood. Outlet covers. Cabinet locks. Baby gates by the stairs- that was all fine. But then he started putting rubber softeners against every sharp surface, he moved around all of the silverware so that it was out of reach- out of your reach, too, and hardly organized. You put an end to this really quickly, and although he was clearly anxious about your kids finding a way to hurt themselves, you'd tell him that- yeah, they were kids. That's what they were great at. He was just making your lives harder without really doing anything. So, he took it back a notch, though you did notice him sprinkle in random rubber rounders on sharp corners. You didn't call him out on it, and he eventually was satisfied, and stopped, leaving it to rest.
He dresses his babies in overalls and cow-print onesies, the fabric always has some sort of pattern on it, whether its small horses or sunflowers- whatever it was, it had a pattern on it. He wasn't very good at picking out outfits for them, as they very often clashed and he didn't understand that you can't just mix patterns, but with a bit of guidance from you (and you supervising him when you shop for clothes), he slowly got better at picking out outfits for them, and also started getting a bit better at picking out his own outfits as a bonus.
While it wasn't a terrible case, you did suffer from a bit of postpartum depression, especially with your first, and Leland felt awful about it, like genuinely gut-wrenchingly bad, so he did everything possible to make things easier on you. He always offered to be the one on wake-up duty, refusing to let you get up out of bed when the baby started crying. If you wanted, he'd go and get them and hand them off to you, letting you hold them for a little while and let them fall back asleep before he returned them to the nursery.
One night, you'd waken up to the baby crying, but Leland reassured you that he'd take care of them, so you went back to sleep. When you woke up about an hour later, Leland still wasn't there, and you grew a little worried. You got up out of bed and checked the nursery, and both of them were gone. You immediately went into a panic, and you headed down the stairs, only to find Leland on the living room carpet with your baby, leaning against the couch as he dangled a foil toy above them. He yawned; he looked absolutely exhausted, and he was dozing off as he bobbed the toy up and down.
"Lee?" "Huh-? I'm awake, I'm awake, where is she?" He jolted awake, looking around until he spotted your daughter reaching up for the toy above her head, and he let out a breath of relief. "Sorry, she just would not go back to sleep. I came down to start the coffee, and set her down here, and.... Guess I just dozed off." You laughed, walking over to him and sitting next to him, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Do you wanna go get some sleep? I don't mind starting some coffee and watching her." "Are you sure?" "Positive. Go get some sleep, babe, you're all good," you reassured. He kissed your cheek, and then kissed his daughter's forehead before heading back upstairs.
Especially for your first kid, he got really anxious when they'd cry. He'd try all sorts of things- tried burping them, tried feeding them, tried playing with them, anything he could think of. And it took a lot of persuasion for him to realize that, no, your kid was not dying, they were a baby, and babies cry. He got a lot more accustomed to this idea by the second, and then the third, and was pretty much a pro by the fourth kid.
Oh yeah, four kids. Three girls and one boy. He is SUCH a girl dad and I will not be accepting criticism on this.
Every single time you gave birth, you'd hold the baby for about fifteen minutes before passing it off to Leland, who refused to give it back for at least an hour. He'd tell you to just get some rest, you deserved it, and he just wanted to take the trouble off your hands. "Our baby is not trouble," you'd remind, but he'd shush you, and as time went on, your kids started chiming in, telling you "Just get some sleep, mom!", and you'd pretend to go to sleep, and Leland would sit on the floor with them, letting them see their new sibling.
He wouldn't let them be held by any of your kids, he didn't want to risk the worst, but he'd talk it through with the kids, explaining the story that Mom worked really really hard for their new sibling, so they needed to be gentle with them, and be patient. The older ones understood it, but the younger ones had a little trouble grasping the fact that babies could be loud, and annoying, and frustrating, but he'd explain to them that babies can't do anything else because they don't know much. Exactly the way that you'd first reassured him about his anxieties with the baby crying.
Another thing that never changed were his occasional anxiety attacks, usually after a bad nightmare back to the event, or when he couldn't sleep despite his meds, and he paced in the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair over, and over, and over again. Thinking about the what if's. Thinking about all of it. And he'd get on the edge of tears, the edge of really breaking down, before he'd go into the nursery and sit next to the crib. He'd set his hand inside, and the moment that his baby's tiny fingers wrapped around one of his, he'd let out a tense exhale, managing a smile. Even when they were grown, he'd stand in the frame of their door in the middle of the night, reassuring himself that he'd done fine. That he'd made a life for himself. Made a family for himself. That they'd be proud of him. And while it never got easier, he got better at understanding it, at calming himself down, at reassuring himself.
As his kids get older, they start asking about his scars. You overhear it from where you're cleaning in the kitchen, and you step closer, listening in. At first, you worry that he'll shut down- you know how sensitive subject it is for him, and there's silence.
"Daddy?" Your daughter asked, and you could hear a sniffle. He let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, see, you aren't s'posed to know about 'em. Stuff you don't wanna know about your daddy, kiddo," he'd respond, and you could practically see the pout on her face. It was his fault he spoiled them so much. "C'mon, daddy, tell me! Please? I promise I won't tell anyone else," she hummed. "Nobody? Not even your brother?" "Nobody," she assured, and he sighed. "Well, before you were born... I went on a lot of adventures. Me and my friends. See, we had to fight these real bad guys. During the battle, they got a good couple of hits on me, and that's what the scars are from." "Did you win?" There was another pause. "Yeah, sugar, I won." "Where are your friends now?" Another pause. "They're out there protectin' others. They don't have kids like me and your mom. I had to retire from kickin' butt," he teased. "You're still my hero, daddy." You smiled, and you could hear his voice break as he replied with, "I love you, baby. Don't ever forget that, alright? No matter what happens." "I know, I love you too, dad."
It wasn't long before your kids started to touch his scars in passing, when they were playing with him, or when he was sitting on the couch next to him. They'd lean against his shoulder and touch the ones on his forceps, ones that you knew were far too small to be sensitive. But then they'd touch the ones on his back, and you'd hear him let out a quiet grunt, trying to shift- not shift away, but shift so that his back faced them, and they'd ease up their pressure. He'd remind them to be gentle, and they'd oblige, gently tracing the scars on his back.
He understood that they were curious; they were young, and touch was how they explored. He would've been curious too, at their age. So he was patient with them, and understanding. Even when they'd accidentally poke at a sensitive spot, and his jaw would tighten, but he never got angry at them. Sometimes, he'd give you a look, and you'd understand immediately, and distract the kids with something else so he could have his personal space.
It wasn't long before a lot of his scars were named. The ones on his back were Billy and Jessie, and the one on his chest was Hugh. The others had names too, but they changed pretty often. Those three remained the same, though. Sometimes the kids would line them with colorful markers, drawing wings around them or drawing faces on the scar tissue, and he got used to them messing with the scars, and it started to affect him less.
From the minute they grasp the concept of walking, those kids are dancing. Or, at the very least, bouncing as Leland danced around them, singing to whatever was on the radio at that moment. He loved having dance parties with his kids, and you'd join in, and he'd twirl you, your kids acting as a hype squad as the two of you danced. He liked letting his kids pick out something from his vinyl collection and putting it on, dancing along to his favorites and teaching them how to dosey-doe and square dance.
The first time his daughter fell off of her bike, he cried way more than she did. She was already back on the bike, asking for Leland to help her, and he was practically bawling, talking about how he was so proud of her for being so strong. You'd laugh, and step in, helping her out while he collected himself.
The moment that his daughters have enough hair to clip a bow on, he's doing it for them. He does it for every outing, all the way until they graduate. Every prom, he set up one of the bedrooms as a sort of salon, and he did all of their hair for them, even the ones who weren't going to prom that year. And every year, he was teary-eyed as he did it, rambling about how much they've grown up.
With his son, most people expected him to go hog wild with the sports dad thing, but he was entirely the opposite. he didn't want his son to get hurt, so he never even encouraged the idea of sports.
"Lee, you were in football in high school. Don't you want that opportunity for him?" "I knew a guy who was paralyzed from football." "You knew a guy, or you heard it on the radio?" "..................I'm not takin' any risks."
He swears your hormones are contagious. If he walks in on you crying, he starts crying, and he never cried before you had kids. And then both of you would be crying, and neither of you would know why, so you'd start laughing, and then you'd go back to crying again. He didn't understand it in the slightest, but he was fine as long as you and his kids were.
Speaking of hormones, you had to sit him down when your oldest daughter got about 12, and you gave him a very in depth discussion about how periods work, what he should expect, and what he can do to help.
The next time he came back from the store, he had a box of every single brand of pad and tampon. And he assured you that it was important because you never know what might work. Well, what worked was the first box that they tried, and now Leland was left with a lot of boxes and a lot of period products. So, what did he do?
He broke down the boxes and took out all of the period products. And he made a fort with the boxes, using the pads as adhesive and using the tampons as decoration. You and your two daughters stumbled across him working in the living room, laying on his back as he used a pad to tape two boxes together.
"Dad...? What are you doing?" Your eldest asked, the three of you exchanging a glance. "Are you okay, daddy?" The younger one added, and he sat up, turning towards the three of you with the happiest, most proud-dad grin on his face. "It's a period palace!" He laughed, showing off his work.
The kids didn't play in it much, but he and Jacs had their fun with it, and before long it was thrown out, probably for the best.
When referring to him in conversation with your kids, you'd refer to him as Dad, or Daddy, and he'd refer to you as Mom. However, when he was being more affectionate, he'd refer to you as Mama instead.
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gemini-sensei · 1 year
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Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz x Single!Pregnant!Reader
Chubby!Fem!Reader ○ Y/N used ○ cuteness
From this req: HERE ○ let me know if I should do more of this idea, with Hawk or other characters, because I love it! 💖
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The first time he saw her, Eli knew he had to at least learn her name. He'd never seen her before, her entrance to the school quiet and unannounced. It wasn't spectacular; one day, she was just there, and that intrigued Eli more than anything. He wanted to know her.
It started early in the morning. He first noticed her walking through the halls with a big sweater and yoga pants. She held some notebooks to her chest in one hand as she pulled a rolling backpack behind her. She looked a little lost, as if walking around an entirely new country on her own.
She's beautiful, he thought to himself, but before he had the chance to approach her and offer some help, the bell rang. The crowds of students began parting ways and flooding the halls with movement. He lost her to the sea of moving teenagers and before long, he found himself walking to his own class without much more than a glimpse at her.
That was how most of the day ended up being. He saw her in the halls and at lunch, but always missed the chance to talk to her for one reason or another. It felt like a curse, as if he wasn't destined to meet her; something always seemed to stop their paths from crossing.
That was until the final bell rang...
Eli stayed after class to discuss a project with his teacher, so when he entered the halls to leave, they were empty. He waited for a tumbleweed to blow through, but of course it didn't happen. Instead, he heard a clatter with a startled-
"Oh shit!"
When he turned the corner, there she was, standing at her locker with scattered books and journals and papers at her feet. Her bag was open, ready to receive the materials, but they never got there. She huffed, puffed out her cheeks and spread her legs awkwardly before trying to bend forward.
Eli rushed over to help without a second thought. "Let me help you!"
His voice stopped her and she stood straight again. Her eyes were nervous, but she smiled appreciatively. "Thank you..."
He got down on his one knee and started gathering her things. He stacked them together a little messy, working quickly and quietly. For a moment, he did wonder if she would try to pick anything else up again, and he glanced up and her, which was when he saw it.
She stood over him with her hand cradling her midsection, which held her sweater against her stomach and allowed him to see how round it was. From its previous position of swallowing her up, he could only see a few of her curves. He knew she was bigger, her face was rounder, her thighs were thick, but her belly was well hidden. He wouldn't have guessed it before that moment, but it was indisputable from there on out.
She was pregnant.
He stared for a moment, not meaning to. She must have felt his eyes on her because she turned to look at him and became flustered. She stopping holding her belly and stood straight, letting the fabric of her sweater fall away and hide her round little secret again. Averting her eyes, she let out an unsure hum, an awkward squeak really.
Nothing was said between them until he had all of her things gathered up in his hands. He stood and held them out to her, which she took and held securely in her arm. Her eyes were uncertain but expectant, waiting for him to say something about what he'd seen.
Instead, he said, "I'm Hawk."
She blinked. "Hawk?"
He chuckled at her cuteness. "That's what my friends call me."
"Oh."
"What do they call you?"
He was being cheeky in hopes it would put a smile on her face.
She gave a small grin. "I don't know. I'll let you know when I get some friends. But for now you can call me Y/N."
"That's really pretty," he told her.
She looked away with a shy smile. It was quiet for a moment, as if she didn't know what to say. Then, softly, she said, "Well, thank you for helping me. It would have taken me a while to get all this up."
"It was no big deal," he told her, giving her a big smile. "But, uh, if you ever need help with anything else, you can always come to me. I won't mind."
She shook her head, as if about to refuse, but he didn't let her.
"You said you don't have any friends, right? Well, consider me your first friend at West Valley High." He chuckled at the cute face she made at his declaration, the little smile she gave him. "And as your friend, I will give you a hand with anything you need from here on out."
They exchanged numbers after that and he walked her to her car, helped her put everything inside, then waved her off. It was beyond learning her name, and it was so much greater.
From there, they became good friends. At first, Reader didn't want to talk a lot about the baby. She talked about other things; her father's work transfer that brought her to The Valley, her interests and hobbies, her favorite movies and musical artists. He didn't mind so much because they were getting to know each other.
Similarly, he shared parts of himself with her that was surface level and easy to find out. He told her about karate, about movies and comics, about his tattoos. There were parts of him he kept to himself, so he understood why she might want to keep some of herself to, well, herself.
He introduced her to his friends, but made them aware beforehand that she didn't want to talk about the elephant in the room. Moon was the most understanding and also the first of his friends to jump into normal conversation with Reader, asking her about where she had moved from and how she was liking it in The Valley. She made it easy for everyone else to ease into and before anyone knew it, they were all chatting and laughing with Reader as if she were a longtime friend.
It was a couple of weeks later before she truly opened up to him.
He'd offered to help her on an at-home project for science that was tricky for her to fully understand. He was pretty good as science, so he offered his expertise, which turned into working on it together, but her teacher didn't have to know that. It'd be there little secret.
When she became too uncomfortable to focus, they decided it was time for a break and she got up to move around. She rubbed at her hips and back, still wearing a big sweater to hide her body. Soon that trick wouldn't work anymore, as her belly had gotten bigger. Her curves were also filling in, hips widening, breasts swelling; a slew of things Eli didn't know before meeting her. He'd never admit to her or to anyone that he'd looked it up, that he read into everything she'd go through and all the possible symptoms she might have.
As she struggled to rub her back, he sat up a little straighter. "Do you want some help with that?"
She turned to him, her cheeks warming. "You don't have to..."
"I want to," he told her, standing from his spot. He walked over and came to stand behind her. "How would you prefer me do this?"
"Oh um," she hummed softly, looking around. She moved over to the arm chair and leant forward, resting her arms on the back of it. The way she bent over, her sweater hung off of her and he knew hidden behind it, her belly hung too. "This should do it."
He nodded and gently followed her lead, then came to stand behind her. He put his hands on her midback and started rubbing the heel of his palms into her muscle. It was tough and she moaned softly as he worked out the stress. He didn't say anything, knowing it was helping her just by the relief in her tone.
Eli didn't mind doing these little acts of service. She deserved someone to be there with her to rub the soreness out of her back and hips, to help her tie her shoes, to take care of her when she didn't feel good. For crying out loud, she was growing a tiny person inside of her, and no one was around to pitch in even a little bit. Her parents were gone most of the time with work. She was essentially all alone.
As he moved his hands down to her hips, she shifted and rested on her arms. She sighed, laying her head on them. He saw her eyes were closed and her eyebrows were knit up, meaning there was still work to do and he added a little more pressure to his ministrations. She moaned and he licked his lips to keep himself from giving a satisfied, proud smile because it felt like an inappropriate thing to do at the time.
It didn't stop him from saying something stupid, though.
"Man, it feels like there's a shit ton of tension right here," he said as his pressed his fingers into her hips. That was rather obvious in retrospect.
She let out a noise between a sigh and a moan. "I try to work it all out, but it never... well, works out."
"How am I doing?"
"A lot better than I can."
He let himself smile at that proudly.
When she asked him to stop, he helped her stand straighter and they walked back over to the couch. She looked at him shyly, then turned away. It was a move he knew well, because he used to do it often; she wanted to say something, but thought it wasn't important enough to bring up, so she wasn't going to say anything.
"What?" he asked. He kept a smile on his face, but his voice was softer than what it would have been had they been at school. She shook her head and he put his hand on her back gently. "You can tell me, you know that, right? I won't judge you or anything."
"It's nothing. I wouldn't want to bother you..."
"Nothing you do will ever bother me."
She looked up at him and their eyes met. He gave her an assuring smile and she returned it sweetly.
"Well... I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to do that more often... I know it's probably a lot to ask for, so you don't have to it if you don't want to..."
He stared at her for a moment longer and she put her head down, staring at the pattern of her sweater. As she started to pick at a loose thread, his words came together.
"You deserve someone that's gonna be here for you, I hope you know that."
She had an idea of where the conversation was heading and shrugged. "I don't know. I guess so."
"This isn't all on you," he told her, never taking his eyes off of her. He glanced at her belly, seeing the bump form a small protrusion in the big sweater she was wrapped up in. "You didn't do this on your own, so why should you have to go through it alone?"
"My boyfriend- my ex boyfriend, he didn't care, didn't want anything to do with me anymore. He left, so I told myself I didn't need him... said we'd be okay on our own." She put her hand on her belly and rubbed it gently. "Why make him stay or be a part of all this? It would just make him resent us, and I didn't want my kid to grow up with a resentful parent. It's not their fault he doesn't want us."
Hawk grimaced, disgusted that her ex had just abandoned her when she popped up pregnant. It was such a pussy move in his eyes. However, hearing her talk about it, hearing how she handled it, made him think she was stronger for it. All the power to her for taking that situation into her own hands and essentially saying, well fuck you too.
"Still, that doesn't mean you don't deserve someone to help carry the weight. You shouldn't have to do it on your own."
"It's sweet of you to think so," she said with a small smile. It made him sad because it was so apologetic and sincere.
In that split second, he wanted to find her ex and knock his teeth out.
"I'll do whatever you want me to do," he promised her. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "Anything you need, and I mean it. Come to me, otherwise I'll be offended."
She giggled and he smiled. However, it didn't last very long before her face become somber again. She looked at him, another question in her eyes. However, she wasn't as nervous to ask this one.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You want the truth?" he asked, feeling his heart skip a beat. No matter what, she was beautiful; whether her expression was crestfallen or pouty or tired, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. And he was about to tell her the truth regardless.
"Yeah, the truth." She looked at him funny. "What else is there?"
He shook his head with a laugh. "Nothing, I guess."
With a pause, he composed his thoughts. He licked his lips as they came together and he squeezed her hand lightly. When their eyes met again, he finally told her,
"It's because I like you... I like you a lot."
She stared at him, mouth gently fallen open. He saw it in her eyes how much it surprised her.
"You like me?"
"Yeah," he chuckled. Though it was nerve wracking to say it out loud, there was relief with it too. There were a handful of things that might keep them from being together, though. "I'm sorry if that's weird or anything. I know it isn't exactly the right time for that sort of thing."
"No, no," she said, a little rushed. She bit her lip thinking it was too rushed. "I mean... I like you, too. A lot."
His smile only brightened. He kept ahold of her hand as he scooted closer to her, making her smile and let out a small giggle. Then he leaned into her and she shyly did the same, closing her eyes in anticipation of feeling his lips against hers. Once they connected, it was everything he imagined and more, and he slipped his arm around her back and held her close as her other hand came up to hold his cheek.
It was what he'd wanted since he learned her name and it was better than he could've dreamed of.
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grindeldore3 · 2 months
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My answer to the Dumbledore hate
So there's been a lot of hate regarding our professor (A.D.) here and there. And it seems to be lurking in the darkest corners of our heart where there happens to be an unwillingness to accept light. While imposing certain accusations on A.D., we seem to forget that whom we are judging is a mere human and is obviously tend to make mistakes. See, its not much possible to innumerate at once all the complex situations he was in, so I am not doing it here particularly. When one person is devoid of support and right guidance, they tend to fall into wrong path. But A.D. changed for good, like Hermione said, like Harry later realised too and like Hagrid and Minerva knew all along. Just to mention one thing that bothers a lot of us- when he was such a capable person why didn't he save Harry? This question bothers us because we see him as an all-rounder person who is capable of anything; but just think about it a bit deeply. He wasn't all-rounder, if he was so then he would have saved his own sister back then and get removed of all his responsibilities, he didn't do that because it wasn't just possible. Which clearly implies that a person cannot control everything, he can't decide everything and can't rectify everything for the simple reason that he is just a human. A human isn't God so why to blame him for not being right at every point of time? One may say he raised Harry to die, which is wrong ofcourse. For example, God created mortals to be born and eventually die, but does that mean the sole reason we are here is to die? NO, we are here to test our strengths, to put some use to our abilities and do something worthy in this world. So did A.D. say. He knew Harry's survival was difficult but he never thought to kill him or to raise him as pig for slaughter (like just for the sake that he has to die by prophecy!??). A mortal can't change the fate of the destined future, all he/she can do is to make things right in the present. So A.D. protected Harry to save him and let him see how his life is and leave it upto him to decide own his own.
We can't judge him when we are by no means in his shoes. Whatever he suffered made him indeed saint like. There's no denying in that because if we stretch the bounds of our constricted mind, it is pretty evident that he was never selfish. All he did was for greater good only, though his perspective of greater good was tampered early in life from which his disillusioned return led to his lonely path where he had to walk to bring about the right change. So easily we put him to fault, but in the end he always did what was necessary. He never kindled with hate, it can be observed often that he has a genuine love for everyone and he became a down to earth personality. He didn't favoured Harry, he cared for him like he would have to anyone who was in dire need. It can be admitted that he knew everything beforehand but to correct this statement, he didn't knew 'absolutely' everything. Can we normalize that in the vast expanse of this mysterious thing called Time, a single person can make only one choice and act on it once. So did A.D., he had to make difficult choices, they were hard and demanding. How could he or anyone else make such a choice which satisfies everyone? No one can. Newt summed it up pretty much clearly about most us being ultimately imperfect. Even if we made mistakes and did terrible things, we can try to make things right, and that what matters, the TRYING. So just think- what else A.D. did in all his life instead of trying hard to correct things and help people see light? What did he have to gain by doing any harm or discrimination to others? He had no family for whom he can turn selfish for or what did he ever demanded for his own gain? Remorse was his lasting companion, where too one would complain that he imparted his miseries and problems to others, which isn't true. Know him by being in his place, that's all required to make up some space for understanding.
Giving it all a divine perspective, I would like to say that God is capable of forgiving the greatest sins but we as mortals are too arrogant to accept the existence of naivety and child-like ignorance. What I am trying to say here doesn't means that A.D. was free of any flaws because he wasn't exactly. The whole point of his character is make us realise how imperfection is not a sin, rather a natural trait. And when in our deepest conscience there's only empathy and selflessness present, we can attain the level of a holy figure. Remember, humans have a knack of choosing precisely those things which are worst for them? Humans are incarnation of foolishness where they divert from goodness, only those who admit it and work on it lead the right path. A.D wasn't bad, he wasn't even grey I think; he was a polite tender soul who suffered so much oppression, excess of burden, loss and lack of mutual understanding. He (as his name means) belongs in the white light, a white just stained with black imprints of his little mistakes (little mistakes which had drastic effect because of him being such prominent person to influence the world) the mistakes_which we are kind enough to forgive and overlook, right?
So can we all just accept him as he is? Can we have tollerance for differences and choices of others? Can we stop spreading hate just because we disagree or dislike what a character is or how the other person views it? Can we take all the postive morals and values of love and compassion from A.D. such that affection prevails in our minds whenever we read his name, not his errors alone? And can we give ourselves time to ponder upon and improve the flaws in ourselves which reflects his imperfections?
When there exists so much to learn, we must not limit ourselves to unnecessary critisism. Its not about remaining silent if misdeeds happen but to ensure that it never hurts anyone- otherwise what's the difference between us and opposite position. Let's give it a try to love everyone as much as we can.
I don't expect everyone to agree with me because ideally its not possible for just words to change anything.... Like there's nothing one can say that can ME hate them, so there's nothing I can say that can have any tremendous effect, just hoping for good 🤞❤️❤️❤️
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tyonfs · 3 years
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hi<3 i love your fics they are super good! i wanted to ask something hehe . could you (if you want to ofc!!) make a fic about mark? i mean like you are enemies with him but eventually u fall in love with him and the u guys dating but its almost full of angst then fluff and smut? its ok if you dont want to! i just wanted to ask this<3
author’s note: hello anon !! i’m sorry for getting to this so late 🏃‍♂️ but omg i hope you enjoy this little bullet fic tho! AND TYSM i’m so glad you like my fics 🥺💞
pairing: mark lee x fem!reader
summary: competing with the bane of your existence, mark lee, for a letter of recommendation from the dean was bad enough. on top of that, he was now the manager at your new job.
genres: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, smut, crack, slight angst, coffee shop au, college au
warnings: profanity, sexual tension!! bc what’s e2l without sexual tension, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!), hate sex, making out
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finding out the dean only wrote a letter of recommendation for one student every year was probably the third worst news you could have received today
the first being the realization that the dean had to pick between you and mark lee
the second being that you were against mark lee
mark lee: the captain of the ice hockey team, the student body president, and the top student in the english department
he was also a smidge too attractive for his own good which made you want to pull your hair out
hot people with shit personalities should be a federal crime
but your gripe with him right now was that damn letter of recommendation
how Canadian Shakespeare was all buddy-buddy with the dean was beyond your understanding
maybe it had to do with the fact that he was the student body president and a perfect all-rounder student but you were appalled when you walked into her office to see her laughing at something mark said
this was just unfair; she didn’t laugh at your jokes
mark wasn’t even funny! he was just a kiss-up and you were infuriated
“take a seat, y/n,” she said, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “mark was just telling me the most hilarious little tid-bit about edgar allen poe.”
ah, yes. edgar allen poe. what a riot.
mark smiled at you as you took a seat next to him, but you saw past his fake smile
“hey, y/n,” he greeted cheerily
you returned the stiff smile. “hey, mr. president.”
douchebag, you thought bitterly. who was he to say hi to you? clearly he’s working against you. this is his evil plot to watch your downfall.
“so, as you two know,” the dean interrupted your delusional thought process, “i only can give one student a recommendation and you two are my top candidates.”
you were practically on the edge of your seat, hanging onto every word the dean was saying
“so i came up with the perfect solution to decide,” she said. “write me a short paper by the end of next week on why i should pick you, attach your resumé, and then i’ll decide.”
you and mark turned to each other, exchanging a look
this was war
“end of next week? you got it,” you replied, fired up
you were confident you would get it
plus, you could add your new job at the coffee shop to your resumé—the timing was perfect
when you and mark left the room, it was like a switch flipped in him
“good luck getting the recommendation,” he said, raising his brows at you. “you’re gonna need it.”
“oh, please.” you scoffed. “save the attitude for when i get it. now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m gonna go to my first shift. have fun with your hockey pucks!”
you stormed off, enraged
you were not taking shit from a dude named after someone from the old testament
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okay, so maybe the world hated you
“what are you doing here?” you sneered
it was very clear what mark was doing here, actually
above his name on his name tag read manager, and you’ve never wanted to die more
“i’m here for work,” mark replied with a smirk. “excited for your first day, y/n?”
“not anymore.”
“come on, don’t be like that,” mark cooed. “sora here is gonna show you the ropes.”
the perky girl mark gestured to was enough to slap you out of your brooding nature and manage a smile for her
she looked you up and down and grinned. “let’s get you an apron.”
you sighed as she disappeared into the back room
mark leaned close until his lips met your ear before he turned to leave
your stomach twisted from what you thought was hatred, but it felt odd
he whispered, “by the way, don’t think i’m going easy on you today.”
you groaned when mark walked off
your day couldn’t get any worse
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newsflash: your day got worse
who knew making a coffee could be so complex? what the hell was steamed? did people enjoy making their orders longer than the declaration of independence?
mark sighed heavily when he saw you struggling with the whipped cream
“let me show you how it’s done,” he offered
instead of demonstrating like a normal person, mark walked up behind you so that you were caged against the counter, and he placed his hand over yours
this isn’t weird, you tried to convince yourself even though it was very, very weird
“gentle,” he murmured in your ear, pressing against the nozzle to create the perfect dollop of whipped cream over the drink. “got it?”
your heart was going crazy. screw mark lee
“mmhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself to speak coherent words
you had to remind yourself that this was your mortal enemy, and he was clearly playing mind games with you right now
“so what’s going on between you and our manager?” sora asked once mark had gone to work the register. “i could feel the sexual tension all the way from the blenders.”
“nothing at all,” you replied coolly. “we hate each other’s guts. he’s just trying to break me down, but i won’t back down.”
“that’s a bit dramatic. i think he just wants to fuck you.”
you choked on air, backing away from the drinks. “no way in hell.”
sora laughed. “i’m just saying,” she said, “he doesn’t do things like that to the other girls.”
“trust me,” you replied. “we hate each other. whatever that was is just him trying to get into my head and mess with me.”
sora shrugged. “if you say so.”
you honestly weren’t quite so sure yourself, but if this was just mark’s plan to throw you off your game, you weren’t going to fall for it
and if this was how he wanted to play, you had a few tricks up your sleeve as well
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“i thought you said you weren’t coming to the party,” renjun said as he watched you apply lipstick. “what changed your mind?”
renjun and jaemin were currently sitting in the middle of your room while you were putting on your makeup to go to a party with them
it wasn’t everyday you dressed up this good, but tonight you were ready to kill
but nothing too severe because you still wanted that letter of recommendation
“mark lee,” you replied, eyes practically burning holes in your mirror with how intense your gaze was
“i thought you hated him,” renjun said. “now you want to go to a party for him?”
“exactly, renjun. he thinks he can mess with me so i’m going to fight back.”
“sounds concerning, but you look great, y/n,” jaemin replied, giving you a thumbs-up
you beamed, turning around and placed your hand on your chest in gratitude. “why, thank you, jaemin.”
“but, y/n, what makes you think mark’s trying to mess with you?” jaemin inquired
you raised a brow at him. “you two are his best friends. you know better than anyone that we hate each other.”
“right.” renjun snickered. “and that’s why you’re wearing that low-cut dress?”
“i plan to make my revenge sweet, huang renjun.”
“oh god, they’re gonna fuck,” jaemin muttered
“we’re not gonna fuck, jaemin!”
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jaemin and renjun were under the impression that your target was mark
and he was, but you weren’t going to get to him directly
your plan was to get to him by other means: his friends
there was nothing mark hated more than his friends getting along with his foe
he already had to deal with sharing jaemin and renjun with you, so you figured his breaking point would be if you got closer to jeno or hyuck
but you didn’t even get to carry out your evil plan because mark walked over to you himself
well, that was easy, you thought
his eyes were on your dress, examining the way the material hugged your body
you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were a little intimidated. being under his gaze was a little nerve-wracking
“you’re up to no good,” he observed
you batted your eyes innocently. “what makes you say that?”
“you look stunning.”
that would usually be a compliment but mark made it seem like you needed to be behind caution tape
“thanks? i guess.” you scoffed. “i just dressed up more than usual today.”
“yeah, okay,” mark drawled and looked back over his shoulder, which you assumed was him checking to see if his friends were around. “can i get you a drink?”
hook, line, and sinker
“i’m not drinking tonight, but we can dance,” you offered, slipping your hand into his
mark raised a brow at the physical contact but pulled you over so that you both were closer to the mosh pit
mark didn’t let go like you did; his eyes were serious and studying you like he was trying to calculate your every movement
his lips brushed against the shell of your ear when he leaned in. “i have a feeling you’re up to something, y/n.”
“oh yeah?” you taunted. “like what?”
“i can’t tell if this is about the letter of recommendation,” mark said, “or if you’ve already noticed how badly i want to fuck you.”
maybe it was a good thing you didn’t go get drinks with mark
because you surely would have spit it out all over him
“you want to—what?” you asked, cheeks heating up when your voice started to fail you. “did i hear that right?”
no way. there was no way in hell mark lee thought about you in that way. not after the constant bickering and teasing and—
wait
yeah, no, that just sounds like sexual tension, y/n, you realized
maybe you were stupid for intentionally ignoring all the signs, but that didn’t change much because the guy still pissed you off
even though the feeling of his lips against your skin was absolutely sinful
and the way his thighs looked in those jeans made your head a mess
and his hands on your waist left his touch lingering and left you wavering
the moment was ruined, though, because someone had to bump into you and spill their drink all over your perfect dress
“i’m so sorry!” the person apologized profusely
“it’s fine,” you replied
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t frustrated. how were you going to mess with mark’s head when you looked like this now? plus, you were sticky and felt gross
mark tutted. “look at you.”
something about his tone, about the way he was looking at you, made your stomach flip
mark grabbed your arm and continued, “let’s get you cleaned up.”
you could only follow after him as mark pulled you into the bathroom, closing the door behind him once you were in
“okay, now—fuck,” mark hissed and averted his gaze when you started peeling off your stained dress. “what the fuck are you doing?”
“isn’t that what i’m here for? to clean this?” you asked with a scoff
mark grumbled something incomprehensible and simply manned the door
“you don’t have to keep looking away,” you added with a smirk
“you’ll be in danger if i look at you right now.”
your breath got caught in your throat at his words, but you huffed and continued, “mark, why the fuck do you think i even wore this dress?”
a muscle in his neck flexed and his eyes darkened. it was all so incredibly attractive to you so you didn’t mind when he locked the door and made his way over to you, taking in the way you looked in lingerie
“you’ve been messing with my head these past few days,” he growled. “showing up to work and then dressing like this.”
mark snapped the strap of your bra and traced the fabric down, running his finger over your nipple
you shivered, even more so when he pressed the lower half of his body up against you and placed his large hands on your hips
“you’re one to talk. do you know how i felt when i found out you were the person i was up against for that damn—” you were cut off, gasping as you felt mark’s hand slip into your underwear and slide two fingers against your slit. “h-hey! that’s not fair!”
“you’re wet,” he observed, “and you talk too much.”
“fuck you.”
“it’ll be my pleasure,” mark murmured before he leaned in, kissing you with a vigor you had never seen in him before
you were caught off guard but before you knew it, you were wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to pull him impossibly closer
mark was a good kisser, and it didn’t help that he knew all the right things to do that got you turned on
he held the back of your neck, tilting your head up so he could reach you better, and his fingers wouldn’t leave your slit alone
when his thumb moved to rub small circles against your clit, though, you had to pull back for air, whimpering at his touch
mark smirked and took this as his opportunity to kiss down to your neck
“i should’ve done this a long time ago,” he whispered against your skin before planting kisses along the column of your neck
mark’s hands moved to the back of your thighs and picked you up so you were sitting on the counter
“just fuck me already,” you groaned out, running your hands through his hair
“beg for it.”
“you’re such a prick.”
“i can stop.”
you whined and gripped his shoulder. “please, mark,” you begged, heat rushing to your cheeks at what he was making you do. “please, please, please fuck me.”
mark’s lips curved into a smirk. “that’s more like it.”
before you knew it, mark was ripping off your panties and unbuckling his belt
he must’ve noticed your shocked look when you saw how big he was because he grinned, grabbed the back of your neck, and pulled you in for a deeper kiss
you were so dazed from the taste of his lips, but snapped out of it immediately when you felt him push himself into you
“mark!” you gasped out, breaking away from the kiss to catch your breath once again
“f-fuck, you’re so tight,” mark moaned out, waiting for you to get adjusted and groaning whenever you clenched around him
when you got adjusted to his size, you met his eyes and mark immediately understood
he held your hips tightly and started thrusting, his merciless pace making you moan uncontrollably
“i fucking hate you,” you whined. “stop making me feel so good.”
mark moved one hand to clamp over your mouth. “quiet, kitten. we don’t want people hearing us, do we?”
you nodded, tears springing to your eyes and running down your cheeks as he hit that perfect spot every single time
your moans were muffled by mark’s hand but he got aroused each time regardless
his hand on your hip crept to press his thumb against your clit again, aiding his thrusts by stimulating you more
“c-close,” you whimpered out against his hand, and mark removed his hand just to hold your hips steady so he could go faster. “fuck.”
“you gonna cum for me?” mark cooed, leaning close to nip at your neck. “come on, y/n.”
you were at your limit
your climax washed over you and you came, crying out into mark’s shoulder as you were hit with intense waves of pleasure
mark was at his limit shortly after, groaning and pulling out so he could cum over your thigh
the both of you took a second to process what you had just done, and mark simply stared at you as his ragged breaths turned shallow
“you asshole,” you started, “we came here to clean me up and you made an even bigger mess.”
mark grabbed the dress you had strewn aside to slip over you again. “round two in the shower then?”
“this shower?” you asked, nose scrunching up in disgust
“my shower,” mark said. “let’s go to my place.”
you wanted to outright refuse him, but the sex was so good that you complied
mark’s driving was a bit concerning with most of his attention on you, but the both of you managed to make it to his apartment in one piece
he was ignoring his texts from his friends and you were ignoring yours, but you had no time to feel guilty because mark’s lips were on yours again
and round two was even better
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now you found yourself in a dilemma
hooking up with mark once was fine and all
you both had your fun and sure, you didn’t follow through with your initial plan, but the sex was good
the problem was that it was too good
too good as in you hooked up with mark for six days in a row after that party
and you were currently making out with him in the back room of the coffee shop
too good as in you were starting to soften up to him
like he had gotten you both takeout the previous night
and you kissed him to say thank you
literally who does that?
and later he sent you a picture of his dog because he thought you’d like a picture of his dog
and fuck you, mark lee, you really did like the picture of his dog
you liked it so much that you added a heart reaction
and the night before that, he asked, “are you pissed off with me because we didn’t cuddle?”
he wanted to cuddle? he knew you wanted to cuddle? you wanted to cuddle?
you wanted to cuddle mark lee?
you also had to explain your whereabouts to renjun and jaemin
your friends were hellbent on finding out if you got together with mark or not, but you and mark had to keep your hookup under wraps
but that unfortunately didn’t stop you from accidentally blurting out that sex with mark was really good 
but, to be fair, you were drunk so it wasn’t really your fault 
plus, mark forgave you after you kissed him
this was a syndrome called Down Bad and you were not happy with it
what was this? rivals with benefits? acquaintances with benefits and downsides?
whatever it was, you were not happy
and you ended up pushing mark off of you
“what’s wrong?” he asked, looking concerned at how you withdrew
“what are we doing?”
mark straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “uh, making out?”
“no, like, are we just having fun until we go back to hating each other or what?” you asked. “because if you’re stringing me along, i don’t want to be part of it.”
“stringing you along? how am i stringing you along?”
“i don’t know, maybe you’re trying to get in my head because of that letter—”
mark cut you off with a frustrated sigh. “why is everything about that damn letter of recommendation?”
anger bubbled in your stomach. “how can it not be? that recommendation determines if i can apply to my dream grad school.”
“and you think it doesn’t make a difference to me?” mark asked. “why would i fool around with you right now when i could be writing my paper right now?”
“i don’t know!” you exclaimed. “i don’t know what you want from me. you already have the upper hand.”
mark put his hands over his face and groaned. “god, you really think i just want to play with your feelings and drop you? you know better than anyone else that i take what i deserve and leave behind what i don’t deserve.”
“what?”
“forget it,” mark grumbled. he backed up and made his way to the door, adding, “you’re working register.”
screw mark lee
screw mark lee for being against you for that damn letter of recommendation
screw mark lee for leaving you like this
and more importantly, screw mark lee for making you cry right now because you cared about him more than a stupid letter
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you did a lot of thinking that night
well, you had to, because your letter was due the next day
but you thought a lot about mark said about deserving things
and frankly, you didn’t deserve this letter
you tried to cheat your way into knocking out your competition
even though that completely failed and you ended up catching feelings
but that was besides the point
you did a lot of thinking
and you weren’t sure if you came to the right conclusion, but it felt like the right thing to do
so you sat down and you started writing
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it had been a week since you submitted your paper
you hadn’t spoken properly to mark since your argument at the coffee shop
sora had asked if there was something up and you ended up telling her everything
she assured you that he’d come back once he was done blowing off steam, but now you had to walk into your meeting with him and the dean
and you were nervous as hell
she was going to announce her decision and you had a feeling you knew who was going to get it
it was bad enough you had to sit through a meeting with mark during that, but did you really have to run into him outside her room?
“hey,” he greeted awkwardly
you froze for a second but greeted back, “hey.”
“hey,” the dean spoke from behind the both of you, a brow raised at how distant you two sounded
you balked and she walked past the both of you. “come inside.”
you and mark exchanged a wary glance before walking inside and sitting in the two seats in front of her desk
she grabbed two letters on her desk and handed one to each of you
“congratulations,” she said with a smile. “two letters of recommendation for the both of you.”
“what?” you and mark exclaimed, taking ahold of your respective letters in disbelief
“i’ve never had two students write papers on the other student, but i was impressed so i decided to give you both a recommendation this year,” she said
you turned to mark in shock. “you wrote your paper about me?”
mark was equally as shocked. “you wrote yours on me?”
“i had a feeling you didn’t plan to bring up each other’s achievements,” the dean said. “that’s all i have for you two, so again, good job.”
you thanked the dean before saying your goodbyes, but mark writing about you was still bugging you
“i told you i didn’t think i deserved it,” mark said once you two walked out of the dean’s office
“i didn’t know—god, i feel like such a bitch right now.”
mark smiled. “well, you kinda redeemed yourself back there. i didn’t see that coming.”
for the first time, you could confidently say mark lee’s smile made your heart swell 
“hey,” mark started, a touch nervous, “do you maybe wanna grab dinner sometime? and go see a movie or something?”
“is that a date?” you asked
“it could be.”
“mark,” you warned
“okay, it is!” he admitted, smile widening. “go on a date with me, y/n.”
you broke into a smile, too. “well, how could i say no to mark lee?”
mark laughed and swooped in to peck your lips
you could practically feel the happiness radiating from him 
“this calls for a quickie in the bathroom,” mark said
“absolutely not.”
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angryschnauzer · 3 years
Text
Stuck - Part 2
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Summary: Following the development in your relationship from maid x client, you visit Agent Walker on his invitation, with no false pretences of what is expected
Pairing: August Walker x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Mission Impossible: Fallout.
Warnings; NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, sex toys, dildo’s, butt plugs, masturbation, voyeurism, anal fingering, anal sex, creampie, Sugar Daddy relationship, (no use of ‘Daddy’ as a petname) 
I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Part 1 can be found HERE, Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE All typos are allowed to run wild and free
Stuck - Part 2
Ringing the doorbell you heard footsteps this time, and were able to prepare yourself for Mr Walker opening the door - or so you thought. When the door swung open you could not have prepared yourself for the sight of him in smart black pants and a crisp grey button down shirt, the top couple of buttons opened to reveal a teasing glimpse of chest hair, his tie hanging loose and unfastened around his neck. He looked you up and down, taking in how your breasts were pushed a little higher, your ass a little rounder from the way the heels made you stand, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stepped to one side;
“Please, do come in”
As you stepped past him you caught a waft of his aftershave, dark and musky, a hint of sandalwood and rosemary. You stood fidgeting, glancing around the apartment and seeing that it was sparkling clean, telling you that you’d be earning your money a different way today. You didn’t mind, not in the slightest. The $2000 tip he’d given you on your last visit had paid your credit card bill and you’d been able to make your rent on time for the first time in months. 
When the parcel had arrived on your doorstep a week ago with a note from Mr Walker you’d quickly glanced around the hallway, no courier or delivery guy having been seen, almost nervous to find what was inside. When you had opened the parcel it had felt like christmas morning, so many little treats all individually wrapped, a note from the high end lingerie store saying that they hoped you enjoyed the parcel. That night you’d tried on the exquisite underwear set, marvelling how the bra gave you the most amazing cleavage, the half cups ending just at the right place for your nipples to peek over the top of the lace. The panties had looked innocent enough from the front, but at the back it was a series of elastic straps that caged in your ass, the crotch non-existent and it gave you no false pretenses about what they were intended for. Having unpacked all the other treats - lipstick, perfume, bath bombs and scented skin oil, your favourite chocolates - you came upon one final gift and an envelope. Opening the parcel first you let out a small squeak when you saw the heart shaped jewel shine in the light from your lamp, the heavy metal of the plug smooth and cool in the palm of your hand. Grabbing the envelope you opened it, your hands shaking;
“Enjoy your gifts. I’ll make a booking soon. August x”
Back in MR Walker’s apartment you were distracted as he stood behind you, the only tell that he was there was the sudden feel of body heat warming your back even though he wasn’t touching you. When he finally spoke his voice was low and quiet;
“You can back out now and there will be no hard feelings. But if you want to stay and continue i can guarantee it will be worth your while in so many ways. So, what will it be?”
You could feel your hands shaking with nerves, hell, even excitement. Taking a deep breath you slid one foot back and moved until your ass was pressing against Mr Walkers crotch;
“I’d like to stay please. I very much enjoyed the gifts, Sir”
“Good girl”
He wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you flush with his chest as his lips found your neck, working his tongue and teeth over your jugular as his hands gripped at your hips before moving to the zipper on the back of your dress. The metallic rasp of it being pulled down filled the hallway, the cool air hitting your heated skin soon soothed as he trailed his fingertips down the exposed deep v of skin. Pushing the formal maid’s dress down your shoulders you let it fall to the floor, the deep groan of appreciation that rumbled up through his throat making your body tingle with excitement.
“You look fantastic, i made the right choice with this set” he took hold of your asscheek; “Are you wearing all of it?”
Bending a little at the waist you pushed your ass out and felt as he pushed his hand between your legs, first touching your pussy before moving back and pressing against the jewel of the plug;
“Hmmmn very good. My good girl follows instructions well. Now put your hands on the wall and stick your ass out a little more”
“Yes Sir”
Stepping out of your dress you turned and laid your palms flat on the board and batten walls, this time the sound of a smaller zipper filling the silence before your legs were kicked apart and a hand pressed against the small of your back. Bending your spine you pushed your ass out, gasping as you felt the thick blunt tip of his cock nudging against your swollen petals, searching, seeking out its destination before pushing in fully in one firm thrust.
“Fuck. Your pussy is as tight as i remembered” he muttered behind you, yet you were unable to respond, your body tensing around the deep penetration that felt so good. You felt him spread his legs and set off at a brutal pace, fucking into you from behind, with each thrust his pelvis would push the plug into your ass stimulating you even more. 
There were no words, just grunts and moans, and you could feel your legs starting to shake as an orgasm approached rapidly;
“I’m coming…”
“Not yet you aren’t… you’ll come when i tell you to come”
“”Yes… Sir…”
Gritting your teeth you tried to will the building orgasm to subside, but the way you were being fucked made it hard. Your left leg started to shake violently as you tried to hold back, Mr Walker ramming into you from behind before he finally grunted;
“Cum for me now”
You didn’t think you could orgasm on demand, but as you relaxed just the tiniest amount the levy broke and you came around his cock. That in turn set his orgasm off, and you were pushed against the wall as he came deep inside you, thrusting harshly into you as you felt him spasm deep within your walls.
When he pulled out you winced, quickly closing your legs as you felt his seed already start to drip out of you, and as he tucked himself back into his dress pants he winked;
“Good girl. Keep me inside” he reached for your hand; “Now come, a glass of champagne”
He led you to the large lounge, the pristine white leather couches and the soft net curtains giving the room a bright yet muted appearance. One wall was completely made up of floor to ceiling mirrors, and there were just a few houseplants scattered around the place to break up the stark white of the room.
“Sit” he called out from the kitchen before you heard the quiet pop of the cork.
“But… i’ll make a mess of your leather…” you called back, only to hear his voice as he approached holding two glasses of the golden frizzante.
“Doesn’t matter. For what i have planned you’ll be making even more of a mess than just a smear of my cum”
He handed you the glass and gently tapped his own against it before raising it to his lips, you followed and hummed as the bubbles smoothed over your tongue. He cocked his head and smiled, yet it felt like the look a viper would give its prey before it struck;
“Now, i said sit”
You did as he instructed, perching your ass on the edge of the couch before remembering the plug and wincing as you moved back slightly so you could sit on the whole of your buttocks to relieve some of the pressure in your ass.
Mr Walker hadn’t moved, and you were now eye level with his crotch, the outline of his cock clear to see as the fine fabric clung to him. Licking your lips you quickly sipped at your glass again before he tucked a finger beneath your chin to pull your gaze up to his face;
“Don’t worry, you’ll be getting another load soon… i have something else planned first… tell me a little about yourself…”
He stepped away and you watched him as he moved around the room, picking up a gift box and setting it down on the low table in front of you just out of reach, but saying nothing until he sat on the couch opposite you;
“I asked you to tell me about yourself…”
Stumbling on your words you tried to explain a little, unsure if he wanted a professional or a personal explanation, your arrangement seemingly a mixture of the two already. He sat with one leg hooked at an angle over the other knee, quietly sipping his champagne, his gaze intense as it never left you once. Finally he cleared his throat;
“Would you like to open your gift?”
Reaching to set your glass down, you took the box and rested it on your knees, pulling off the ribbon and lifting the lid, the gasp that fell from your lips immediately followed by a grin and somewhat unladylike snort of laughter, before focusing back on what was contained;
“Oh my god…”
Glancing up you saw Mr Walker eyeing you suspiciously, before you wrapped your hand around the contents and pulled it from the packaging, laying it across both of your palms as you gazed down at the heavy rubber dildo. It was so detailed, every vein and ridge perfectly formed, before a thought suddenly struck you and your eyes went wide;
“Is this… is this you?”
“I had it cast just for you” he settled both feet flat on the floor and you watched as he settled comfortably, his thighs wide apart; “Why don’t you give it a test run? Show me how well you take it?”
For a moment you simply held it, wide eyed at the thought of performing such an intimate act, but shook that thought from your mind as you settled back against the cushions, hooking both feet onto the edge of the low glass table in front of you, your heels hanging over the edge as you parted your thighs and trailed a hand down to your core, rubbing against the wet lace that was soaked from Mr Walker fucking you just a few minutes before. Lifting the dildo you considered it for a moment before spitting on it, bringing your soaked hand up and working the combined wetness over the thickness, pulling your panties to one side and resting the wide tip at your entrance. 
Looking up you maintained eye contact as you carefully pressed the first couple of inches in and breached your tight entrance, your jaw falling slack as you felt the familiar yet different stretch. You carefully worked the rubber phallus back and forth, pushing a little more each time, helping to lubricate the shaft with your own essence as it filled you. When it was inserted enough you grasped the heavy ballsack, your other hand teasing your nipples as they peeked over the lace of your bra, trailing it down to your panties to rub at your engorged clit. 
Working your body in the same way you had done so many times in private, thinking of Agent August Walker - even before your first sexual encounter with him - it was now surreal as you watched him palming himself through his clothing as you fucked yourself with the rubber imitation of him.
You could feel yourself getting close, the air in the room thick with lust as the only sounds were heavy breathing and the wet sounds coming from between your legs, when he called out;
“Stop”
With a whine you did. Pausing, waiting for his instruction;
“Take it out and stand”
The obscene sucking squelch as you removed the dildo from your aching core filled the room, before you set it down on the box and stood on shaky legs.
“Come here”
Your legs felt like jelly, crossing the room and standing before him, watching as he parted his legs further to make room for you;
“What would you like me to do Sir?”
“On your knees”
Settling obediently between his thick thighs, you were grateful for the extra long pile rugs beneath you cushioning your knees, resting your hands cautiously on his muscled thighs and looking up at him with wide eyes as he spoke;
“Lets see how good that mouth of yours is?”
Watching as he unzipped himself, at this angle his dick looked even bigger and more imposing than the feeling of it inside you. Shuffling closer you wrapped your hands carefully around the hot shaft, admiring how he was already rock hard and weeping with need. Leaning in you lapped at the clear bead that had pooled at the tip, tasting both him and yourself on his skin. Licking your lips to lubricate them you took a deep breath and descended on him, his girth stretching your lips almost painfully, working your tongue over the silken flesh. He gently smoothed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realised you had shed;
“Doing so well Princess… your mouth is as good as your cunt is…” his other hand wrapped in your hair and he started to control your actions, his hips rising in sharp movements as he started to fuck your face. He maintained eye contact as he held your head, moving you how he wanted;
“Cry those tears for me, i know they’re not tears of pain or discomfort… its just overwhelming, isn’t it?”
You couldn’t answer, your mouth and throat too busy being occupied by his heavy flesh, but you nodded and let out a tiny grunt; it felt so good, so depraved to be used like this, and as his thrusts got faster you prepared yourself for what was to come next… but instead at the last moment he pulled you off of him.
Gasping for breath you were wide eyed, no doubt your makeup ruined but in the quiet of his apartment you watched him as he gritted his teeth and regained his composure. Finally he spoke;
“Turn around and sit on my lap… legs together and bounce on my dick”
You stood and turned, backing up and bending over before he pressed a hot palm to your naked thigh;
“Stop. Bend over. Let me look at that silken purse”
Knees together you did as he asked, letting out a gasp as he ran a calloused thumb over the pouting lips of your sex, already swollen from the events that had led to that very moment, and as he teased out your nectar he smeared it on your skin.
“Very nice, holding treasures within…”
Dipping his thumb inside he drew it out and hummed in appreciation at seeing his cum mixed with your own on it, before tugging at the jewel of your plug and smearing his thumb under the rim to your sensitive opening.
“Hmmmn, another treasure waiting to be pillaged… but first…”
He took hold of your hip, pulling you back as he held his dick and lined you up with it, and at that hot searing touch of flesh you gasped. You were more than ready for him, craving his touch, your body accepting him as you stopped holding back and allowed gravity to take over until you were sat flush on his lap, speared deep and aching with need.
His warm hands smoothed over the soft globes of your ass before pushing against you back;
“Bounce for me Princess”
You did as he asked, starting off slow, the warmth of his palm against your back spurring you on as you started to move faster, your pussy dripping around him and with each wet slap of your bodies you knew you’d coated his balls and taint with your juices. On one downward fall you landed hard, groaning as you ground your ass against him and his hands suddenly clamped down on your hips to keep you flush with him;
“Stay”
You felt the tug on the plug in your ass, moaning as you felt it being pulled gently but persistently, moaning as you stretched at the fullest part before the somewhat disappointing relief as it was removed completely. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him set it down carefully on the small table to the side, and grab a small bottle of lube that had been sitting there behind a plant pot. You braced yourself for the inevitable.
---
August.
He’d paced the hallways of his apartment from the moment his hidden camera’s had picked up that you’d left your building; checking traffic cam’s and building surveillance to track your progress. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be nervous; he was in charge and you were simply a plaything… and yet when he’d heard the doorbell ring his stomach had done a little flip and he’d had to take a few seconds to calm his racing heart.
What had followed had been that of his wildest dreams; a woman pliable and willing, and yet still independent with her own thoughts. He’d had women simp over him and he’d had to guide them at every step, weak wristed and prudish with their own sexual desires… but with you… you were different.
For the time that had followed since you’d walked through his door he had told himself he couldn’t get too attached, this was a sexual relationship, one that suited his needs and that he controlled, but with every passing minute he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper.
And now here you were, sat on his lap and he was balls deep inside you, feeling your cunt tremble around his achingly hard dick, and at the sight of your tight back door winking as he’d removed the plug he’d almost blown his load right there and then. 
Carefully pouring the thick lube on the crease of your ass he watched for a moment as it slowly ran down, before catching it with his thumb and massaging against your asshole, watching as the stretched muscle accepted him so eagerly. He worked the muscle open, moving from his thumb to two fingers then three, your moans as you accepted him causing him to grit his teeth so not to blow his load right there and then in your unprotected cunt. And he knew you were still unprotected, he’d kept track of your appointments and knew you hadn’t updated your birth control, it had been a mere three weeks since your last visit, and even if you hadn’t figured it out he sure had.
He could feel that you were ready, lifting you up before positioning himself at your prepared hole;
“Just relax Princess, i know you can do it” 
He spoke softly, quietly… reassuring you as he watched you slowly stretching around him, and that first inch as he slipped inside you it took all his control not to slam deep inside your guts. 
With one hand under your buttcheek he held you up as he could feel your body stretching, growing accustomed to his girth inside you, and as you started to relax he would slip inside a little further.
He was basking in the moment, the lewd and salacious nature of something he had done many times before, yet this time it felt different; the connection was there this time. As his mind reeled from the realisation that this time he was going to have to take into account his own feelings, you turned and grinned at him, and with a sly smirk sank down until you were fully seated with his dick filling your ass;
“OH FUCK…” August cursed, his hands flying to your hips and his head rolling back to rest on the couch as he fought not to blow his load right there and then in the dark recesses of your ass.
Letting out another string of curses, he gritted his teeth and let out a low growl, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you start to bounce up and down on him, his gaze drawn to where your tight hole was stretched so much to accommodate his thick girth. He knew that if you kept bouncing like that he’d cum in seconds, and it was too good to let his body deceive him. Wrapping his arms around your torso he pulled you back;
“Shhhh… slow down Princess…”
-
You whimpered as he laid you against his chest, his dick slipping out of your ass a little before he bucked his hips and pushed slowly back into you. With one arm wrapped around your torso he trailed the other down your stomach before he sought out your sensitive pearl, rubbing at your clit;
“August…” you whined, feeling the intense pleasure shoot through your body; “I’m gonna cum”
“Don’t… not yet…” he gasped out; “Please… wait…”
“I can’t…”
Your back arched and you felt your mind leave your body for a split second, vaguely aware of the rumble in Mr Walkers chest as your orgasm set off his own, filling your ass with thick ropes of his seed as you lay prone on his chest.
Finally through bliss hazed eyes you turned to look at him, surprised when his lips met yours for a soft kiss. His lips were delicate and you could taste a hint of bourbon lingering on his tongue that the champagne couldn’t mask, the moment only broken by the feel of his softening shaft slipping from your body with a rather graphic squelch.
Now that your bodies were no longer connected he shifted you into his arms as he cradled you in his lap, one strong arm holding you as the other traced patterns over your skin with sensitive fingertips. You watched as he seemingly memorised the plains and curves of your body by feel alone, before he finally spoke;
“Let me run you a bath”
-
August
He’d carried you to his bathroom, running a deep warm bath as he’d helped you undress, rubbing the balls of your feet and you sighed as the pressure of the day seemed to slip from your mind. After helping you into the bath he’d massaged your shoulders as you’d soaked in the tub, before taking a soft natural sponge and gently washed you. 
When the water had started to cool he’d helped you out and gazed as the water droplets had run down your skin, reminding him of a maiden emerging from the sea on a sun kissed island. Wrapping you in an oversized fluffy robe he smiled;
“I’ve set some clothing out for you on my bed, i’ll be right out once i’ve showered”
You nodded and quietly thanked him, and he was finally alone with his thoughts as he quickly stripped and stepped into the large shower enclosure. The water was cold as it shot out of the jets, too impatient to let it warm up as he quickly rinsed the residue of his efforts from his body, his mind pensive as he wondered how he would broach the proposal he had for you. Quickly finishing up he stepped out and roughly dried himself, wrapping a towel around his waist before venturing into his bedroom, smiling to himself as he saw you preening in the mirror;
“Looks good on you”
You turned and smiled at his words and he could have sworn he felt his heart swell just a little more at the look on your face, watching as you bounced across the room and planted a kiss to his lips;
“Thank you…” 
He watched as you smoothed a hand over your breasts and down your hips, the expensive loungewear far overpriced but the quality shone through as it clung to your curves. Knowing you were naked beneath it had arousal swelling his length again, but he gritted his teeth to will it away, at least for a while;
“Looks beautiful on you Princess”
-
Searching through the coffee station in August’s kitchen you found a box of mixed herbals teas, and once you’d figured out his over engineered kettle it was soon warming up to get to a steady boil. Looking around the kitchen you spied the half drunk bottle on the counter, surprised when it stated it was zero alcohol when you felt a pair of warm arms wrap around your waist and a mustachioed mouth trace kissed up your neck;
“There’s still champagne…” 
His deep voice resonated through your spine, and you slowly spun in his arms before you wrapped yours around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his lips;
“I need something to soothe my throat after all the screaming you made me do”
“Fair enough” he said with a smile, giving your ass a squeeze; “Go take a seat, i’ll bring it over to you”
A few minutes later he set a steaming mug down in front of you, sitting beside you as he cleared his throat;
“I have a proposition for you…”
Blowing on the hot tea you raised an eyebrow as he continued;
“I’d like to keep you”
“Keep me?”
He shifted on his seat;
“I mean… come to an arrangement… an exclusive arrangement”
“So, like a sugar Daddy thing?” you asked
“Yes, as in a kept-woman”
You paused for a moment, considering what he was telling you before gently setting down your tea;
“I like the sound of this, but i want you to be specific with what you mean, what will be provided, and what any repercussions are”
Over the next fifteen minutes he calmly explained that you could give up your other maid jobs, he would pay your rent and expenses, and if you desired so could follow your passion for the arts. He would not expect you to be a live in whore-come-maid, but made it clear he would like a sexual relationship, but only on your terms and with your full consent at every instance.
“How do you feel about that?” he asked as he finally finished detailing what seemed like the dream arrangement.
You smiled at him as you shifted on the seat, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders;
“I think i feel pretty good about it”
Your lips met and the kiss was deep and passionate, bodies entwined and arousal growing when suddenly a loud ringing came from the table, August’s phone furiously vibrating against the glass.
“Fuck… Sorry, i need to get that”
August quickly lifted and set you down on the couch as he stood and answered the phone, listening intently before ending the call with a curt confirmation. Crossing the room he knelt at the side of the couch;
“I’m so sorry, i’ve got to go… my work…”
“I get it” you interrupted; “I know your line of work means sudden assignments”
“I’ve got to be at the pentagon in an hour, but your place is on the way so i can drop you home, this isn’t how i wanted today to end, but its the job…”
“I understand”
-
Twenty minutes later you were standing on the sidewalk outside your building, watching as August’s plain black Audi disappeared into traffic, wanting to wave but he’d said not to. Your phone chimed and your eyes went wide when you saw the ‘tip’ he’d given you, more than three months rent and a promise to call when he was off mission. You had never imagined you’d be in this situation, but you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity.
What you didn’t see was the person watching you from the shadows, already knowing you were their target, the perfect leverage.
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all-things-fic · 3 years
Text
Rekindled
A/N: Firstly, I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who nominated me as November Author of the Month. I wasn’t expecting that at all and it was a lovely surprise!  Secondly, here is Rekindled. Hope you all enjoy it!
This was originally meant to be for @majorharry​‘s 20k challenge, but I failed on that front. It’s a long one so grab yourself a brew / beverage of choice and get comfy!
I’m about to disappear again as I usually do and start working on my Christmas fic, as well as those Quarantine Harry updates.
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Tonight had started out like any other Saturday evening. 
You had been out with friends. Cosy little pub off a cobbled backstreet, in a secluded corner. Very British. Very cramped. All old wood and leather bound seats. The slight smell of stale beer in the air and plenty of chatter that sometimes had you shouting to ensure the friend sitting two people away from you was able to hear. 
This was a pub that you frequented for quite a while now. A pub that made it so some in your friendship group could grab a proper ale, while others opted for more of a fruity alcoholic beverage. A real all rounder. Did a nice roast on Sunday - eat in or takeout, choice was yours - for a reasonable price by London’s standards. 
The minute he had walked in, you had noticed him. You could recognise his hunched shoulders anywhere. Forever silently willing him to stand up straight and embrace the way his height made him tower over some of his friends. Rather than have him try and make himself smaller. Part of you believed it was to buy him time so he wouldn’t get noticed whenever he knew he was going to be in particular place for longer than an hour.
He had been joined by a male friend. Someone you also knew quite well. Someone who you had seen quite recently actually. An art showing over at Cob Gallery being the reason for your meeting which hadn’t happened too long ago. You remembered the invite being shoved through your letterbox, a far cry from when he used to shunt you a quick text and write your name at the bottom of the guest list using Sam’s kohl eyeliner on the evening of the event itself.
You’d taken the piss out of him that afternoon, a quick phone call telling him that he was “no longer the Tomo Campbell I know”. 
That had been two weeks ago. So, you knew it would be rude of either you, or him, to not acknowledge the other. And you knew he would be the one to cave in. 
And you were right.
Tomo’s friendly brown eyes had glanced at you one too many times, over Harry’s shoulder for him to not give you - or anyone else who may have made the meeting slightly awkward - away. 
The continuous trailing of his gaze had in fact caused Harry to chuckle awkwardly, joking at how he wouldn’t let Sam know of his wandering eye as they shared a night on the town. The joke fell short though, as did his chuckle, when at the last glance over Harry twisted his body around to see what all the fuss was about as he leaned against the bar and let his eyes fall onto yours.
You broke his gaze, reaching forward for your balloon glass full of gin and pressed your face as far into it as possible. A feeling filled you that made you hope the hot flush you felt underneath your skin hadn’t started to give away your unnecessary panic. 
See things with you and Harry hadn’t ended badly. In fact, it was more like a fizzle. A bit like the sweet that pops against your tongue. Sometimes you enjoyed it and other times it was unfulfilling, some would say annoying. The latter explained the ending.
No big fights. No fat, hot tears rolling down cheeks. No loss of voices from slanging matches and screaming until the early hours. It just... Ended. 
That fizzle was what made it amicable. You both breaking it off to go and do your own thing. Neither openly keeping up to date with the other, but still absolutely aware of what was going on. In your case that was a lot easier, in his not so much. However, Harry somehow managed to master the art of leading questions without seeming too much of a beg with mutual friends.  
As he looked on at you taking the longest sip from your drink, he had smiled awkwardly before he allowed his eyes to roam the scene of your group of friends and tried to analyse what met his gaze. A group of eight, men heavily outweighing the women with their five to your genders three. 
He would definitely class himself a liar if he was asked about where his mind had gone, and he said that it hadn’t gone to queries around relationship statuses and potential partnerships with any of the men around the table.
He eyed them, all five of them. Definitely wasn’t the guy three people away, neither was it the guy sat diagonally opposite you. They were blonde, definitely not your type. Well, blondes hadn’t been your type the last time he had been between your legs.
His eyes had been zoned in on the guy that had his back facing him, he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you. Instead he was seated in the opposite seat, but one. Better positioning for someone who wanted to obtain a cheeky glance and still be inconspicuous to the group around him.
“I’m gonna have to go and say hello,” Tomo pulled Harry out of his trance, his eyes lifting up from the beer mat that he had been tapping agitatedly against the bar top once he’d turned away from the scene. 
“‘S fine wi’me, mate,” Harry softly smiled, reaching for his drink and taking a large sip. 
“Come an’ get it over with, H.” 
Harry had quietly eyed Tomo after his open ended suggestion of joining him. His eyes slightly sceptical at the proposal but somehow his legs took over his decision making as he trudged behind his artist friend and got introduced to those faces he didn’t know and acknowledged the ones that he did.
Pulling up a pew at the table had been a lot easier for Harry than he had expected. Dragging the wooden stool to sit himself in between you and the guy to his right, who he now knew to be Conor and the person he really wanted to know the name of was Joe. Joe was a wanker- well, banker. Same difference, right? 
Conversation wasn’t always smooth sailing. The larger group helped however. Also helped him get his moments with you and you with him. Moments that neither of you had known you needed before being sat with his knee brushing yours, due to how cramped your table had suddenly become. 
And it was sweltering now. The bare knee of your ripped jeans, knocking against Harry’s bare knee from his ripped jeans as he edged himself closer to the table wanting to catch what the topic of conversation was down at the easily the “laddier” end of the table. 
Harry had fit right in. Of course his demeanour changed with certain people. Those he had already been in the presence of those years previous were immediately hit with morbid delivery and sarcastic humour, while others were met with his sometimes hard to crack shell. 
And like always as the night had gone on the crowd had tapered off. Some had decided to go onto a club, an offering your declined not wanting to spend the night with people rubbing up against you and feeling like one of the oldest people in the room.
Some of your friends had gone back to their other commitments, like Tomo who made it quite clear he didn’t want to miss his “curfew” that Sam had given him considering he was the one on swimming lesson duty in the morning. 
That ended up leaving you and Harry. Surprisingly a pairing that you hadn’t expected to happen that evening and even more surprising, one that you weren’t particularly dreading.
You knew it had something to do with the gin, and definitely had something to do with the tequila. 
Part of you was thankful for the less than responsible drinking habits you had taken that evening. It allowed you to remain calm as your ex-boyfriend sat across from you looking like time was on his side and aging was being kind to him.
It was definitely being kinder to him than it was to you, anyway. 
Bastard. 
Conversation had been a mixture of light and heavy. Harry showing you a series of different pictures he had taken on his travels as he jetset around the world with his album and his modelling contract (that he adamantly assured you wasn’t a modelling contract), and basically just his very healthy bank balance.
The heavy had been you bitching about the contract project you had been working on and asking him if he would be willing to potentially commit a serious crime with you against one of your colleagues. He’d quipped he probably wasn’t suitable but he was sure he knew a guy. 
At one point, his eyes had dropped down to your pedicured toes in your black strappy heels. When he managed to drag his eyes away for your feet,  and rested his chin on the inside heel of his palm, you knew he wanted to say something. 
“‘M pretty sure we have matching pedis,” he groused, voice so low that if you hadn’t been watching his mouth you wouldn’t have caught a word of what he had just said.
Eyes flicking up to his green gaze, you saw the light shimmering through them. Clearly he was amused by your expression of shock and potential bemusement from his statement.
“Sod off,” you chided, pushing gently at his arm. “You’re joking.”
“‘M not darl-“ he cut himself off with a clear of his throat. “‘M not, an’ if yer lucky later I might take m’socks off to prove it an’all.”
“Not sure if I like the insinuation of there being a later.” You paused for a small amount of time, before adding, “Nor the confidence in how you said it.” 
“God loves a trier and so did you, once.” 
He eyed you from the corner of his vision, mouth wrapped around the lip of his glass as he knocked back what was left of the alcoholic contents inside. 
You were sure he hadn’t meant to let that one slip but there was no way he was going to let his expression give him away and silently confirm with you that thought. 
How had the two of you picked up as if you hadn’t missed a beat? 
“You never did mind me keeping them on though, did yer?”
That was enough to break his gaze. To cause a silence you didn’t know how to fill. To suddenly make you feel incredibly parched as if you hadn’t been necking gin after gin, all evening. 
“How yer getting ‘ome?”
His question cut through it all. His voice of concern, matching his watchful gaze as he looked up at you from the empty glass he had begun twirling on the mahogany wood. 
“Was just gonna Uber it back.”
“‘M a fifteen minute walk from ‘ere, d’ya know tha’?”
“I do know that,” you acknowledged, eyes looking over at him and seeing the way his hair had begun to curl close to his temples from the way he perspired in the heat of the pub. 
“‘Course you do. Done that walk a fair few times ain’t we?”
You hummed. The feeling of your lips lifting into a soft smile at the memories of the two of you walking hand in hand through the dark London streets. Harry with his head down, trying to look inconspicuous. Also, so he could watch his feet and try his best not to trip up over them. 
The times he’d done that thing you loved. Where he would forgo holding your hand and instead walk slightly behind you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and across the top of your chest. His lips heavy against your hair as he hid his face and chuckled breathily against the shell of your ear when he hadn’t been watching his feet and indeed, tripped. It was always inevitable. 
“So wha’s another nigh’?”
And really what was another night? Other than potentially a messy morning. 
Not before long you were wrapping the chain handle of your bag across your body and tottering out of the booth you had occupied all night. 
Silently you had battled with yourself as to whether you should use the bathroom, but didn’t think you needed it considering how you hadn’t had the rush of pressure usually felt when you were really desperate to relieve yourself.
Shame the feeling didn’t last as you felt a huge gust of cold wind, thanks to London autumn air, washing over you. 
With your arms folded around your body as you walked, you tried your best to shield yourself as the lights of passing cars hurt your tired eyes. Harry had been talking to you about all sorts of rubbish, filling in the gaps of dead air that weren’t taken up by the noise around your both.
“My shoes are going to be fucking ruined,” you grumbled, hearing the sound of muddy stones clacking and crunching underneath your heels. 
Harry chuckled at your obvious disdain, keeping himself close to you in the dimly lit area. The stride to his walk was confident, a little more power behind it than unsteady. He had consumed drinks, but not enough that he didn’t realise how close both he and you were to his home.
As you walked, your eyes surveyed the area. A group of people were getting closer, a few hoods lifted making it hard for you to figure out their make up. 
Before you could give yourself time to think, you unravelled your folded arms and reached down for Harry’s hand. 
“Think we could cross here,” you spoke, a chatter to your voice both from the cold and this unusual anxious feeling. Your eyes darted over the road, left and right before you turned as the group approached you. 
A boisterous boom of laughter left one of the groups mouth, causing you to sharply look back down the street. The grip of Harry’s hand against yours changed, his fingers taking your traditional hand hold to one of interlocking digits. 
He felt moved by the way you appeared to still hold the desire to be protective over him. 
“‘M alrigh’,” he pulled you to him, using his hand and causing you to turn your front and press into his side. “Jus’ let ‘em pass us.”
You silently nodded.
“‘S just a couple’a lads walking ‘ome after a night out,” he mumbled. “‘S all it is. You’re alright.” 
This feeling felt foreign as you felt a tightness in your chest while you stood still with him in the middle of the street. You hadn’t expected to feel any sort of hesitation but you, like everyone else, had heard about the incident which had taken place with him. Virtually on the doorstep of his own home too.
Harry offering you comfort and reassurance just as quick as you were to do so for him, had you finding a weird source of strength and confidence. He welcomed the pressing of your forehead to his cheek, knowing if he tilted his head slightly his lips could brush so tenderly against your forehead, your temple. He would most likely get a smell of your shampoo, wondering if you still used the same as before. 
The grip of his hand loosened against yours, his clammy palm, which felt soothingly warm, ran up against the long sleeve of your top. It curled around your neck, holding you securely to him, before he wrapped his arm around you.
Then he dropped his lips, them pressing to your temple and then lower to your cheekbone. He lingered, his breathing slightly quivered as the noise from the group got louder. 
You lifted your head slightly, Harry rearing up just in time to ensure you didn’t headbutt him. His chin was soft as he looked down at you; it took the edge off. His eyes were manic as they moved, there was no mistaking it but everything else about him came off so calm. 
He blew out his shaky sigh, causing you to dart your eyes over his and gently push up onto your tiptoes in your heels to softly kiss his lips. You knew he wasn’t expecting it, you didn’t even know what you were doing before you did it. Yet, you relaxed the minute he drew you even closer using the arm he had curled around your upper back to hold you close.
A wolf whistle caused you to smile against his lips, as he did the same. His gentle breathy laugh bouncing against your lips as he chanced it and pressed pecks against your lips in quick succession. 
“Evening lads,” Harry nodded his head once he came up for air, making sure he got a good look of two of them and making sure they knew that he had. They cheered in praise at the two of you and your public display, threw out a couple of slightly lewd and alcohol fused comments at the scene. One even going as far as to take the red and white striped scarf from around his neck and whip it furiously above his head. “Someone’s ‘appy. The Arsenal must’ve ‘ad a win.”
You nodded as you eyed them, completely embarrassed by the way you had misread a group of loud football fans for violent thugs. You weren’t necessarily far wrong, but still. 
Chattering teeth caused Harry to pull you close to him. “Let's get you in before you catch your death.” 
***
Shoes had been left at the door. 
The aching balls of your feet grateful for the cool wooden flooring and curling into the luxurious fabric of the rugs currently beneath them. 
You’d watched as Harry toed off his obscenely dirty Vans, and walked ahead of you towards the back of the house. The place where his envious lounge and open plan kitchen could be found.
Harry’s home had this way of being welcoming, no matter how long it had been since you had last graced its presence. You assumed he’d made it this way for a reason, especially when that reason was his way of life. Leaving for long periods of time to then return again, to pick right up where he had left off. 
And in many ways, that was how you felt about the current situation. 
Handbag now discarded at your feet, you sat with your side resting against the back of Harry’s teal velvet couch. Surrounded by expensive scatter cushion after expensive scatter cushion, a collection he had amassed during your time apart. 
He was playing the playlist. Not just any playlist, the playlist. The one he would always turn on, volume low, so it was more of a hum than anything else after you’d gotten back from a night on the tiles and fancied a night cap. 
You didn’t need to zone in on the sounds. It so happened that you had heard the playlist so many times before that you didn’t need to have it blasting through the speakers to know the track list. It was burned into your brain and would be for a very long time.
The worst thing of all was that he knew. He just knew. 
His lips had taken on this quirk. Slightly upturned more so on one side of his face than another as he stood at the kitchen island, feeling your eyes watch him as he put together his perfected cheese on toast supper.
It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. A large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon held loosely in your hand as you whispered along to the song playing in the background, mouth watering at the thought of the carby goodness Harry was preparing for you both under the grill of his oven.
The smell that filled your senses was delightful and exactly what you needed to soak up the alcohol you had previously consumed, never mind the alcohol you were about to. 
“Do you want any brown sauce on yours, or ketchup?” You heard him talk louder as the tray he’d been cooking on clattered against his oven hob. 
You stayed silent as you watched him, tea towel over his shoulder as he plated up your toast while his mouth barely sang along to the playlist. Gently lifting the bread off the grill before letting it drop quickly from his grip to the plate because of how hot it was. 
He looked up at you from under his brow, hair fallen into a middle part around his face. His eyes enjoyed the way your legs had curled up beneath you as you rested your right cheek onto your hand and fondly watched him.
You seemed relaxed to him, albeit amused. 
“Don’t even think about laughing at me when ‘m cooking for you.”
You smiled - cheese on toast was hardly cooking - pulling your glass of wine to your lips and taking a sip. “Don’t know why you don’t just get a knife and fork, you numpty.”
“Saves on the washing up doing it this way,” he winced as he dropped another slice to the second plate. 
“And makes you lose your fingerprints in the process.
Harry shook his head as he pressed his thumb to his lips and licked the sore burn, before he gently blew against it. “Never did answer my question,” he reminded, wiping his hands on the towel thrown over his shoulder.
“Ketchup’s fine. Ta.”
Watching him reach across for the bottle of Heinz, you saw him squirt the sauce onto your plate and then saw him do the same to his own. 
Seemingly happy with his work, he whipped the towel off his shoulder and to the side, before scooping up the two plates and striding over to you with ease. 
“Voila,” he spoke, offering you the answer to your predicted hangover prayers, in cheese on toast form.
Reaching forward, you gently took the plate off his hands with both of yours and let your eyes drop down to the melted goodness. Keeping your eyes down you took in the decoration that Harry had added. He’d taken to drawing a smiley face onto the top of the cheese using the ketchup.
“You’re such a silly sod sometimes,” you spoke, lifting your eyes as you watched him drop down onto the couch next to you and get himself comfortable.
Legs up on the coffee table in front of him, almost horizontal with his plate gently resting atop his rounded stomach. Head tipped back and vision lazy, his lips tilted up into a crooked smile as he looked over at you. 
“‘S it okay?”
“Looks it,” you replied, lifting up the toast and taking the biggest bite you could muster. Your nose came into contact with some sauce from your hunger-driven vigour. “Proof is in the tasting though, I s’pose,” you continued, mouth full and covered by your hand to avoid him seeing the chewed up contents. 
You hummed as you closed your eyes, enjoying the taste of the simplistic home cooked food and melted goodness. So simple in taste, but so effective. 
From where Harry lounged, he softly watched you. All relaxed, closed eyes, with a drop of tomato ketchup decorating the end of your nose. 
Before you had the chance, and he couldn’t fight himself, Harry reached up to gently swipe at the sauce and remove it from your skin.
You opened your eyes, blinking over at him as he pressed his thumb between his lips and licked away the sauce he had retrieved. His eyes were mischievous as they glanced at you before he took a bite out of his own food and savoured the taste.  
The groan that left his throat as he chewed was a sound familiar to you in other capacities, causing you to squeeze your legs together and forcefully take another bite of your own toast.
“Tell you what? If there’s one thing I do, ‘s make a bloody good cheese on toast.”
You smirked, amused by his boasting. “Nothing like a slice of conceited-ness as a platter cleanser, for afters.”
“Summat much more appealing for afters, don’t worry about tha’, darling. Got you sorted.” 
***
Bellies full and content, you slipped further down onto Harry’s couch. The two of you finding yourself closer together ask you basked in the warmth of Harry’s home.
“You weren’t lying when you said your nails matched mine,” your voice was sleepy as you spoke, right foot hitting Harry’s left slightly as you brought up your earlier conversation at the pub.
He chuckled into your hair, watching you lift your foot and gently place it atop of his. He made a space for it, moving his right leg so that there was an even bigger gap between his feet to slot yours between.  
“I think mine's a bit lighter to be honest,” you continued, eyes scrutinising his painted nails as much as they could from down the length of your body and his. 
“That’s some bullshit,” Harry groused, rubbing his feet gently against yours to warm them, his voice causing his chest to vibrate against your head as it rested there  “I even had it on m’ hands but I’ve been picking at it. Look.”
Harry obnoxiously held his hand in front of your vision, wiggling his fingers causing you to reach for his fingers and hold his hand still. Sure enough, he was true to his word, presenting you with chipped nail polish that was nothing more than the odd tiny dot against his clean nails. 
You smirked when he pushed them slightly closer to your face than intended, “Alright, think you’ve proven your point.”
Hand knocked back he brought it forward again, “‘M not so sure, try again.”
The only response you could muster up was a giggle fit for a schoolgirl, Harry’s response to pull you even closer as he softly smiled. 
A silence overtook you both, as you closed your eyes and let yourself become more intune with the music playing around you. 
Your face was pressed into the side of his neck able to inhale his worn in aftershave and the soft startings of stubble down the side of his throat. 
The silence was heavy and you knew exactly why. Listening to the base of the song across his speakers mixing with your staggered breathing and rising pulse. 
You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t like it needed attention drawn to it. Yet, the words were tumbling off your lips regardless. 
“This song always makes me…you know.”
The words were mumbled but of course he caught them because he did know. But it was whether he wanted to go there. 
The thought of talking about sex and the sex you had together in a coherent state wasn’t ideal. He wouldn’t have anything to blame his honesty on, if he wasn’t more inebriated than he currently found himself.
“Think we need some more wine for tha’,” he mumbled, lips pressed to your forehead as you hummed in agreement and felt him begin to shift to raise himself from the couch to retrieve a bottle.
***
More wine wasn’t a good idea and you knew it. From the way your tongue was much looser and your lips a lot more numb now. 
The two of you had begun to dance on a weird ledge after he’d refilled your glass. The kind where you were openly flirting and backbiting against the other to try and see who could inflict the moment that had the two of you wincing. 
“Who caught your eye while I was out of the picture?”
“Who didn’t catch yours?”
Harry was sitting on the couch, side pressed into the back of the couch. Leaning with his elbow and allowing his face to rest  in the palm of his hand as he looked at you.
“Alright,” he stressed with a raise to his eyebrows and a quirk to his lips. 
You were a bit flustered due to the way your back bite to him revealed how you were actually caught up in his business of seeing other people when you tried to act like you didn’t care.
Clearing his throat Harry adopted a soft tone to break you out of your fluster.
“There was one girl. Took her to dinner two times.”
You held his eyes with yours, watching the way he slowly smirked, “But you already know that don’t ya?”
Before you could stop yourself, you threw the throw cushion sitting to the right of you, at him.
“Watch the wine,” he said around a laugh, as he raised his wine glass into the air and pushed the cushion to the floor before it had a chance of creating him a cleaning catastrophe in the early hours. 
“Hate you,” you mumbled, turning to your right to look at him from where you had reached forward to put your wine glass down to the table. Before you sat back you ran your index finger against the rim of your wine glass and tapped your nail gently against the base. 
“‘s tha’ why you’re sat eating cheese on toast and drinking wine on my sofa at almost 2am,” he spoke against the rim of his glass, knocking back what was remaining inside.
“I’ve been coerced to be here,” you replied, watching him reach forward, raising his eyebrows at your false suggestion. When he sat back against the couch he was biting back his smile, his eyes shining and crinkles deeply set in the corners.
“Know where the door is,” he goaded, raising his eyebrows again, arm raising to point in the direction of his hallway. He waited for your response and in that time leaned forward towards the coffee table once more, grabbing the wine bottle and topping you up before moving onto refilling his own.
Your eyes dropped down to the rich red liquid as it sloshed against the clear glass. While his words were telling you to leave, his actions were doing the complete opposite. 
Filling the silence he asked, “So, how many dinners am I competing with?”
“Three” you mumbled as you lifted your drink and took a sip for courage. 
Harry’s head titled as he surveyed you, “Bloody hell you didn’t hang around!”
“I have no more cushions left,” you spoke to his cheeky comment with a light hearted threat of throwing something at him for his brazen clap back. “Only my wine.”
He smiled at your warning to throw it all over him before he drawled, “And we wouldn’t wanna waste tha’”
You hummed in agreement, freely taking yet another sip. Finally, something you agreed on. 
Harry kept his eyes on you, waiting. The two of you almost seeing who would cave in first to try and dig for more information on the relations of the other while you were apart. What he really wanted to know was how many men he was competing against. Was it one man three times, or three separate men? 
With all the questions buzzing around his head, he knew it would be him who would give in. 
He was correct. 
“Gonna let me ‘ave a look then? Pull ‘em up on your phone. ‘S only fair. Mine was taken out of my hands.”
His ambiguous comment alluded to the paparazzi pictures of him that had been splashed all over the tabloid online outlets, as well as every other social media platform known to man. 
You didn’t hesitate, the alcohol in your bloodstream almost encouraged you as you reached for your bag at your feet and took out your phone. Said liquid confidence even helped in your handing over of the phone. “Pass codes the same,” you said, as Harry stared at you before he dropped his eyes down to the screen and tried the first code that came to his mind, your birthday.
The screen shook at him, causing a sheepish smile to pull up onto his lips as he thought about his second guess. He punched in the code of your mother’s birthday and unlocked the phone within a short five seconds.
You did notice the stall to his movements, clearly realising how part of this was wrong. It wasn’t his, or your, business to know everything in such detail.
Sensing his hesitancy also, you told him where to find a photograph if he was so desperate for a nose; on your private Instagram page. He took that as a small victory cause he knew you still had pictures of him on your profile that hadn’t been taken down.
You gave him names, knowing that it was an invasion of privacy for the men in question but equally not caring. His thumb was fast as it typed and spelt out the name into the search bar. Harry also not caring at how desperate he was to see his competition. 
“Hold this for me,” he said, passing over his wine glass so that he could cup your phone in both his hands, his undivided attention firmly on his foe. You looked on as you saw him zoom in on the picture of guy number two, who had the chance of a third date.
He was silent as he looked and swiped and read comments. He didn’t know if this was the type of man he was expecting. Had he even been expecting anyone at all?
Running his eyes over the pictures he was greeted with what he could only describe to be your average City man. All overcoats and expensive suits. 
Looks wise, he understood. Perfect five o’clock shadow. Seemed tall enough in photos. Obviously liked a gym session or two. However there was one thing about him that just looked so out of place- 
Breaking the silence, he said, “Can’t even do a tie properly can he?”
“Neither can you,” you shot back.
“Don’t have to when you have someone willing to help.” 
He looked at you from under his brow to see if you were going to correct him. When he realised you weren’t, he continued, “Never been tempted to fix his,” he asked, swiping across to look at another picture. 
“He hasn’t worn a tie on a date yet,” you responded.
Harry zoned in on the use of the word yet.
“What’s he drive?” He asked randomly, continuing the swipe through the pictures with his right thumb. 
“Range Rover Sport.”
“Probably on finance,” he spoke his comeback quickly, expressing his true feelings. It wasn’t going to be on finance but no one could blame him on wanting to throw a cheap shot in some way. “Doesn’t really seem the type to be blessed with the big dick energy. Overcompensating somehow.”
You found yourself biting down against your lips, trying to stifle a laugh. His pettiness has reared itself in less than ten minutes and you could see the way it wove through his features, with a quirk to his eyebrows and a scrunch of his nose. He was dismissive and you supposed he had every reason to be, you were after all sat on his couch. 
“Why do you really think I’m giving you another try,” you smirked, nails tapping at your glass again.
He held your gaze, “You planning on testing me out, seeing if it still works?”
“Might do,” you took another sip of your drink. “Depends if I have the energy.”
“Why do you think I gave you summat to eat?”
You breathed out a laugh as your mouth fell, right hand reaching up to slap him across the top of his arm. He seemed pleased with himself as he locked your phone and loosely held it out to you.
“‘S enough of looking at tha’,'' he hummed, licking gently at his lips. “How did you meet him?” 
Again a breathy laugh left your lips as you stared at him, incredulously. Harry’s eyes easily held yours as he waited on your answer.
“You aren’t in the least bit interested,” you licked your lips, the taste coating them slightly bitter from the lingering wine residue. “Don’t know why you’re trying to make it seem as if you are.” 
“Humour me, darling,” he mused, lips softly lifting. “Or humour him, whichever you prefer.” 
And you know you shouldn’t be doing this, laughing at the expense of someone else in such a way. You saw the larger swallow from Harry too and you knew he was feeling the same. 
However, here you were, giving eyes to a man that you didn’t think would get to see you in such a way again. 
“And why would I want to do that?”
“Cause at least one of us would make it worth your while.” 
You felt your breathing quicken as you held Harry’s eyes. He did nothing to deter you from holding his gaze. 
“You have to stop being so nice,” he added. “If he isn't doing anything for you, that’s okay.”
Reaching forward you rid your hands of your phone, letting it slide against his coffee table. “And do you not think you slightly have an unfair advantage?”
“I think,” he paused, his eyes looking at you. “I think we had something good.”
“Had being the operative word-“
“And I think we could have something good again. In fact I know we could.”
You stalled at his words. The confidence behind them. It was admirable how he was shooting his shot. Especially given you knew how inside he was most likely quaking with nerves.
“Tell him no.”
His words made you chest feel tight, his hand reaching across the distance between the two of you on the sofa. His palm facing up, you slowly lifted your hands to sit in his.
No sooner had your skin come in contact, Harry clasped his hand around yours and softly stroked his thumb to the back of it. He dipped down, lips meeting your knuckles before he tugged at you so softly you almost felt you had imagined it.
He wanted you closer, the arms length distance now too much as he started to show himself to you. His pettiness and his affection, they strangely won you over. Stoked something within you that had you edging further towards him.
Hand unlatching from yours, he lifted his left arm and wrapped it loosely around the back of your neck. With little persuasion you dropped your forehead against his jaw again. 
Harry’s swallow was audible as his fingertips softly stroked at your shoulder. His breath softly fanned against the skin of your temple, his lips turning to press the faintest kiss to your hairline.
“Tell him to piss off.”
You chuckled, breathily, head knocking itself back to look up at him. Eyes light with a sense of joyous infatuation at the moment you found yourself in.
Harry shifted, his right hand quickly discarding both your wine glasses before it placed itself against your hot cheek. The coolness of his slender fingers soothing and welcomed. 
“Tell him no,” he breathed, as his lips hovered close to yours, as he tilted your face upwards to meet his. 
With your eyes closed you felt a sense of guilt, for some unknown reason. It wasn’t like you were committed to anyone outside of the situation that you found yourself in, but you felt slightly wrong for what you were doing. Harry sensed it, able to read the downturn of your lips for what it was. He nudged his nose gently against yours, allowing his eyes to take their time in admiring your expressions and waited on the unnecessary internal conflict to ease. 
“Want me to tell him?” He asked, leaving breathy and wet kisses down your cheek, and along your jawline as you tilted your head back. “‘S not a problem.”
Your mind was swimming as you found yourself sinking back into the couch beneath you. Harry’s voice melting you as he continued talking, “Really get him to take the hint that you’re not interested.”
He kept his face buried against the underside of your chin as it pointed up at the ceiling, hands tracing down your arms and cupping at your hands to press them into his hair as he sucked at your skin.
“I know what you’re doing,” you hummed, scratching at the back of his head, enjoying the feel of his soft locks beneath your touch. 
Harry deeply groaned as you pulled at the strands, “What’s that?”
“Trying to have your way with me when I’m under the influence,” you joked, quirk to your lips. “Always was that little bit more placid that way.” 
You felt the way his lips moved from underneath your chin, finding the corner of your mouth, before he pulled up to look at you. He eyed you, all heavy lidded and messy lips. “You’re not tha’ pissed are ya?”
“No.”
“Then I’m definitely more than jus’ trying.” He reached for your face, lifting your chin and angling it how he wanted. “‘M taking, ‘m begging,” he spoke confidently, unashamed. 
His lips were dominant as they engulfed yours, a groan leaving your throat as your kiss was messy from the offset. His lips puckered and pulled, drawing you closer to him as he breathed through his nose and gave you his tongue.
Your chest was heaving as he skimmed his lips against your face, mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck once more as you bit down on your bottom lip and tried not to laugh. 
“Charming of you to want your way with me on your couch.”
Harry chuckled against your neck, face lifting shortly to look at you. His pupils were blown out already, as his skin took on more of a rosy flush from the beginnings of his exertion. That or you’d embarrassed him.
“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” he mused. ”Where’d you want it?”
Legs curled gently around the backs of his thigh, still covered by the denim of his jeans, you pressed against them with the heel of your foot. 
“Where’d you think?”
He knew exactly where. You were a simple creature. You liked simple things. Sex was always fun to have all over the house, but depending on the level of intimacy you craved, depended on where you were willing to open your legs.
Tonight was a weird one for you to decide upon. The fumble on the couch, while it was exciting and showed you Harry’s desperation to have you once more, it would be over before you knew it. Also it would most likely leave you with a horrible crick in your neck as your keepsake. 
You didn’t want that. You wanted your keepsake to be the ache in your thighs from how he had taken you in different positions because while a bed was boring for some, it allowed you the option to roll around for as long as your bodies permitted. Bending in all different shapes and ways that sometimes neither of you would’ve been able to imagine. 
He broke you from your thoughts once more, hand gently finding your bum and tapping against it. “Up yer get,” he spoke, starting to push himself up knowing you wanted to go upstairs. 
With your legs curled around his, Harry couldn’t go too far. He chuckled with amusement as he dropped his eyes down to his legs and yours, before looking back up. He didn’t need to even ask as he looked at you, leaning forward he inhaled through his nose as he kissed sweetly at your lips and lifted you.
A smile pulled onto your face, causing difficulty to continue kissing. “Stop tha’,” he mouthed against the corner of your lips, as he hoisted your legs. “‘M trying to take charge here.”
“Why do that when you’re still so good at taking direction?” The lilt to your voice was one of glee, you had easily gotten your own way. 
Tousling your hair and flicking it away, behind your shoulders, you rolled your lips into your mouth as you felt the slight bruising from his expressions of desire. He was watching you as you looked at him, doe-eyes sparkling with intrigue and adoration. 
“Give us a kiss,” his deep voice ignited a warm fire within, as he still tried to assert himself while he walked the two of you away from his open plan lounge and closer to his kitchen.
You continued to eye him, enjoying the way he wasn’t going to back down. You just needed to stand your ground just as much. 
As your bum hit the work surface, your hands traced over Harry’s cheeks, cupping his face before moving to grip at the counter. Head tilted slightly, he looked down the bridge of his nose at you through hooded, dark eyes. 
He stepped in between your wide open legs and enjoyed the closeness that they brought when you brought them together to keep him to you. Heavy breathing filled the silent air as you both traced each other's features with touch and sight. Taste could wait, but it would get here soon enough. 
He gulped as he swallowed. 
“Please.”
At first it was gritty. His voice tight and throat dry. His lips forming the word confidently. 
Again he swallowed. “Please, gimme a kiss. You kiss me, like before.” 
The victorious hum that left his lips was one that you would let slide, as his hands ran down the length of your arms and reached up to wrap around your own. He placed them back onto his face, mouth breaking away as he left open mouthed kisses to your left palm, nose nudging at the end of your long sleeve top where he inhaled your worn away perfume. 
He could feel your pulse as he curled his fingers around your wrist. It was strong and rhythmic, inviting to his primal desire which caused him to gently nip at your flesh with his front teeth.
Turning his eyes back to yours, you silently asked him for another kiss with your soft and slow blinking gaze, knowing he wanted to get just as reacquainted as you did. 
He obliged, pressing closer to the counter and letting his lips meet yours quickly. His quick change in motion caused you to reach behind you to steady yourself, your hand coming into contact with an item you couldn’t identify until you gasped and pulled away thanks to the smashing sound. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you whispered quickly, trying to catch your breath. Harry’s eyes turned to take a look at one of the daintier wine glasses he had pulled down from the rack earlier but chose not to use. The item now lay broken against the flooring of his kitchen. 
“Really should tidy up before we go up,” he groaned, mouth pressed into the side of your cheek as you surveyed the mess made on his coffee table over the other side of the room. He reluctantly pulled away from you, walking the short distance to the broken glass.
“Watch yourself,” you said, meaning his bare feet around the glass.
Crouching down, Harry started to collate the bigger shards of glass together, stacking them up against the tiles of his kitchen floor. As you peered down, still sitting on his kitchen island, he looked up at you.
“Couldn’t do me a favour? Go an’ grab the dustpan and brush.”
You blinked. Was he alluding that he kept everything in the same place? Given how he’d asked so vaguely, knowing you would understand. 
Softly, he smiled up at you and chuckled around his words, “Same place as last time, yes.”
Taking a while to kick into action, you slowly slid off the work surface and let your feet softly pad over to the other side of the kitchen. The third cupboard from the right, on the lower half of the kitchen was where Harry kept items that Anne had brought him. You know, the things that Mum’s knew would be important but somehow never crossed their children’s minds. Regardless of whether their children were grown adults.
Sure enough, there sat the same blue dustpan and brush. The item was as vibrant as the last time you had seen it, in similar fashion. Leaning down you grabbed at it, shutting the cupboard gently using your foot and walked back to Harry.
You handed it off and heard his whispered thanks, as you rested the side of your hip against his cupboards. 
“Don’t think I’ve had this out since the last time you so elegantly broke one of my favourite glasses.”
You knew he was messing with you but that didn’t stop the blush of embarrassment, hitting your skin, and filling you with warmth. “I’ll replace it.”
“‘M jokin’, ‘s fine. Only a bit o’ glass-“
His sentence was cut short as the two of you jumped, the sound of a phone filling Harry’s space.
“‘S not mine,” he jutted his lips out, as he pushed himself up from his crouched position and carefully walked towards the bin with his broken glass.
You turned towards the noise that was your phone and how it blared from Harry’s coffee table, where you had placed it earlier. Walking the short distance, you reached for it and was met with a familiar male name.
Biting your bottom lip, you swiped across the phone and pressed it to your ear. His soothing voice greeted you, slightly worried in tone as he breathed a sigh of relief.
Letting your feet take you to the kitchen island again, you responded telling him you were fine and how sorry you were that you hadn’t let him know you had gotten home okay.
From over the other side of the room, you watched as Harry quirked a brow at you while he picked up the empty bottle of wine and wine stained glasses from the coffee table in his lounge. 
You weren’t home. You were far from home.
“Who is it?” He mouthed as he got closer, glasses clinking as he placed them onto the work surface of the kitchen island, after discarding the bottle of wine as loudly as possible into the bin. 
You pulled the phone away from your ear showing him the name that he had earlier been typing into your Instagram search bar. Under the dim light you could see the slight squint to his eyes and the way his nostrils flared. 
He darted his eyes from the phone screen and back to yours, watching as you put the phone back to your ear. 
“Yeah I had a great night, ‘m just tired.”
Harry dropped his head, a smirk forming on his lips. You were far from tired and this was nothing more than a moodkill. With his hands pressed to the worktop, he looked up at you as you stood diagonally opposite him. 
Eyes glancing down to your left hand that was spread against the work surface, Harry reached for it. The tips of his fingers running gently between the divots of your knuckles, before his hand slipped underneath your fingers and tugged you towards him.
You slowly obliged him, as your eyes moved to his face. “Come to bed,” he mouthed, watching as your top teeth worried at your bottom lip. His right hand moved to slip around to your lower back as you arched, pulling your chest away from his trying to keep his mouth away from the phone.
“Come to bed wi’me,” his voice was a whisper now, not quite loud enough for the person on the other end of the line to hear but a next step up from how he was previously just mouthing his words to you. 
As he tried to distract you, he dipped in and out of your conversation which was the most monotonous thing he had ever found himself eavesdropping into.
With your chest open to him, he nosed his way along your skin, head nudging at your hand that held the phone. His lips pulled into a smile as you faked a yawn, clearly trying to politely give the man on the other end a hint that you were done.
Still he heard the drone of this guy, who was now even repeating things he had previously said to try and keep you on the line with him. You weren’t interested though, too preoccupied by the way that Harry was once again pressing kissing to the skin that he could get too. 
Before you knew what was happening Harry had clearly had enough. 
“We’re tired, pal. Take the hint,” he spoke into the phone that still rested against your ear, his lips finding the bottom end of the receiver. “‘S time for bed.” 
You had to pull the handset away from your ear, not wanting to hear his reaction from the sound of Harry's voice. You blindly ended the call, keeping your eyes on your ex-boyfriend, whose green-eyed monster had made itself known.
He helped guide your phone down to his marble countertop and watched as the phone was brought to life with a call. The same name appearing on your screen as he tried to call you back.
Harry didn’t take long to decline the call, quickly turning the phone to silent and placing it face up once he’d finished. Again, it lit to life, this time buzzing against his work surface rather than omitting a jarring noise into the silence the two of you shared.
“‘S a bit creepy in’t it?” 
His question lingered as his eyes moved between the phone and you, watching another call ring out. “If he rings again, ‘m gonna answer.”
As expected the phone lit up for the fourth time. However, before Harry could reach for the item you pushed it, causing it to slide against the work surface and away, just enough that it was out of his reach. 
Harry clenched his jaw, his muscle pulsing as he looked at you. “‘S he always like tha’?”
“He’s just realised the girl he was dating is in the company of some other bloke.” 
“Dating or taken on dates? There’s a difference,” he raised his eyebrows. “‘S a huge difference an’all.”
You stared at him, watching him lower his body to lean against the counter with his elbows and wipe down his face in frustration. Unwarranted at that. 
“I don’t like ‘im.”
“Of course you don’t,” you hummed. 
Sharply he turned his neck to look at you, “‘s tha’ supposed to mean?”
“That I agree.”
“No,” he frowned. “It was how you said it.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I’m not-“ he cut himself off, sigh heavy. “I’m not saying you can’t.” 
He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, thinking of how to navigate his way out of this. 
“‘M saying that you don’t always have to,” he dropped his voice, slowly standing and letting his itching hands reach for you. 
With his hand resting against your ribs, you stayed still. He didn’t guide you anywhere, he waited. Waited on your next move. When he felt your stoic figure relax underneath his touch, his tight chest expanded. Maybe he could talk himself out of this one.
“When we tried this before,” he softly spoke, pulling his hand away from you to motion between you both, “We shared the load, started to become a team.”
“Yeah and look where that got us.”
He felt his lips twitch from your negative deadpan. “‘S got you back ‘ere again tonight so ‘m doing summat right.”
Shaking your head at him, he rolled his lips into his mouth trying to fight his pleased smile. He dropped his eyes to the counter below him as he mumbled his sorry. 
“If you were to ask me, I think we did alrigh’.”
“You would say that.”’
You watched as he jutted out his lips, before running his hand down his mouth and facial hair. He leaned on his palm, his eyes taking you in and wishing you would speak.
“My Mum talks about you all the fucking time,” 
“Say tha’ like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is when you’re trying to get over someone,” you glanced at him from the corner of your vision.
“Now why would you want to do that?”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you were scornful. He shook his head, clearly amused. 
“I’ve still got half of your belongings upstairs, if you wan’ ‘em. You have no idea.” 
You squinted your eyes at him. Trying to read him. “Appearances aren’t always what they seem. Don’t know how many more times I’ll have to tell you about papers and social media, ‘s all a load of bollocks.”
Standing once more, Harry rolled his shoulders and brushed his hair off his face. Once his hands were at the back of his head, he linked his fingers and turned to look at you. Head resting back on his hands, the two of you held each other’s eyes. Him from the corner of his vision, you dead on. No words passed between the two of you. 
“‘M going to bed,” he sighed, dropping his arms and tapping gently against the kitchen counter twice before pushing away. 
His body screamed dejected as he walked away, his shoulders sagged and head down as he walked through his home, towards the second floor and his bedroom. 
Swallowing thickly, you rolled your lips into your mouth again before you spoke his name. The way you called for him caused Harry to stop his movement, back continuing to face you as he silently waited for your next move after you voiced your plea.
You let your feet take you to him, abandoning your phone on the kitchen island and trying your hardest to ignore the white hot anxiety that overtook your being. 
Close enough to touch now, you looked on at your shaking fingers as they gently reached out for him. Your feet took you as close as they could, arm wrapping gently around his abdomen and feeling it quiver with a nervous exhale. 
Lips against the linen of his shirt collar as you pushed onto your tiptoes, hoping that the wine stain upon them wouldn’t attach itself to the cream garment. His head dropped forward, exposing the curvature of his neck to you as his hand gently slid over yours and he rested his fingers between the splayed gaps of your own. 
Gentle squeeze. Reassuring reminder. 
Take your time. 
“Come show me this stuff.”
***
There was always something exhilarating about someone leading you upstairs. The different ways in which it could play out. Playful with a swing to your hands, sensual with a gentle tug to keep your close.
The feel of Harry’s hand in yours was always wanted. Every stroke of his thumb against your knuckles or the back of your hand, a reminder of the affection you had been missing.
His eyes looking over his shoulder at you as he came to the bottom step of the second set of stairs. A silent reminder that you could back out at any time. 
The floorboards still creaked in the same place as always and part of you hated that you didn’t need him to lead you down the hallway because you knew exactly where his room was. 
However, taking yourself to bed never possessed the same majestic undertone as when someone else did.
You were now sitting with your legs tucked underneath you at the end of his bed, rummaging through the box of things that he had neatly packed together for you so they were ready for you to have back if you ever came to collect them.
Every so often you would pull something out to him, showing it and either sharing a story or laughing. As you looked up at him now, showing a tequila shot glass and shaking it suggestively at him, he looked every inch ready to sleep.
Harry was stretched out straight on his bed, his linen shirt still covering his upper body but the buttons were all undone, revealing his chest and stomach to you. Tattoos on display to your eyes that you hadn’t seen for what felt like forever.
The top button of his jeans had been undone as he got comfortable and his ankles were crossed, with his right leg over his left. His eyes were heavily lidded and blinking slower and slower each time you presented him with a new item. 
Double chin forming from the way his head was propped up, he spoke deeply in acknowledgement of the glass with the less than elegant design on the side. 
“Remember getting through a whole bottle of tequila with that,” he drawled, hands clasping on top of his stomach. “Don’t know why we didn’t just pass the bottle between the two of us.”
“That’s because someone insisted that if we were gonna do it, we had to do it proper.”
“Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”
“That’s convenient,” you deadpanned knowing that there was probably some truth behind his words given how inebriated you had both been at the time.
Thoughts aside you continued looking into the box to see a worn slogan shirt peering up at you. Pushing aside the half empty bottle of perfume that was once your favourite, you silently admired the tee that you knew didn’t belong to you.
A soft smile pulled itself onto your lips. Sometimes nice boy Harry was unbearable. He’d taken to folding the shirt that you adored as if it were on a shelf in a posh(er) department store than usual. Think more John Lewis than Debenhams.
Slowly you pulled the item from the box and enjoyed the feel of the soft cotton against your fingers. You loved that the shirt’s collar was slightly saggy, a sign of how loved it had been.
Your voice left your throat as more of a dreamy sigh than you imagined. “I loved this shirt,” you spoke as you held it up in front of your face, eyes tracing over the blue slogan of ‘Enjoy health. Eat your honey.” and the cheeky looking bee that was drawn within the circle.
Who didn’t love an innuendo?
Without a second thought, you let the item fall into your lap, hands quickly turning to pull at your black v-neck top and reveal your matching black lace bra underneath.
Harry slapped his hand against his eyes, quickly covering them. The sound caused you to look up at him. “Don’t be so daft, Harry,” you spoke, fighting your smile by rolling your lips into your mouth as you saw him splinter his fingers and look at you through the gap he had created. 
“Could give a guy a little warning,” he groaned, continuing to peek over at you. 
Shaking your head, you enjoyed the way the cool fabric fell down the skin of your stomach as you covered yourself once more. You knew if you were to turn your head slightly and press your nose to the collar, a mixture of your perfume and his cologne would remain.
You fought the urge however, as you pulled your hair out from underneath the collar and quickly pushed your hand up the back of the shirt to undo your bra. 
It was almost second nature for you to remove your underwear to get comfy within your comfier clothes and the sagging of your bra cups away from boobs was always a delightful feeling at the end of any night. Drunk or otherwise. 
You pulled at the straps of your bra from underneath the sleeves of your shirt, before diving your hand under the hemline and dropping the item less than gracefully into the box that held your other items.
“Think you’re forgetting who that actually belongs to,” he drawled, head resting against the pillows beneath him now and watching you rummage once more.
“I think you gave up the privilege of wearing this item the minute you dropped it inside this box all neatly folded like you worked a shift at Topshop rather than Manderville’s every Saturday.”
He cackled, head tilted back as he enjoyed your self-righteous indignation and absolute pisstake. 
“All Saints was more my thing.”
“That’s because you’re fake indie.”
He was amused as he shook his head over at you with a silent smile. “And being fake indie is exactly why you decided to live on the edge of Camden and not in the thick of Camden itself.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t once tell me that you’d want to raise a family in Hampstead.”
You felt your face heat up at the way he’d completely called your bluff. “That was when I was young and naive.”
“As opposed to us now? Being old and decrepit.”
Again you were silent as you started to put the items around you back into the worn cardboard box. 
“Why’re still fuckin’ around wi’that box?” 
Your eyes snapped up at him as he kept your eyes. “The only thing you should be fuckin’ around with, is me.”
Raising your eyebrows, you said, “Now who sounds young and naive. Anyway, what happened to you just taking.”
Harry was silent as he took in your words, his body slowly rising from his lounged position and he sat up to approach you. You dropped your gaze down his chest and to his stomach, enjoying the slight rolls of his abdomen as he adopted his new seated position.
His eyes were focused as your gaze found his once more. A soft determination. This sheen to his skin in the lamp lighting of his bedroom, causing him to naturally glow. 
Once he was secure in his upright position, closer to you, Harry snatched at the box with one hand and picked it up to sit it down on the floor at his side of the bed.
He then swooped suddenly, hand scooping around your waist and drawing you to him with squealed laughter. His lips fell against your cheek as he shushed you, aiding you as you moved position to get comfortable. 
“Remember the first time I had you in this bed?” He asked, chest to chest with you. Your mouth was agape with your quickened breathing, as his lips puckered slightly at the corner of your mouth and he gently leant his nose to yours.
You both watched each other through heavy eyelids, breathing mixed in rising anticipation. A soft nudge of his nose as he asked, “Do yer?”
A nod was all you could muster. 
“Was good sex,” he husked, hoodied eyes holding yours. “Was always good sex.”
You hummed in agreement. Feeling the way your nerve endings came alight as you pushed your fingers through the hair at his temple. 
Heat flowed through your body, circling in your stomach as his words echoed. 
“Still gonna be good sex, ‘f you’ll let me. Better even.”
The faintest smile pulled at your lips, causing your eyes to glisten. 
“Eh,” he nudged. “You gonna let me, or tell me otherwise?”
“Personally, think you’re just talking a good game.”
“You know ‘m fucking not.”
Harry pulled you to him, his mouth claiming yours easily. So hungry and intense. Lips that were desperate to show you what you had been missing. Lips that were desperate to wipe away the touch of another, asking you what the fuck you were even thinking in trying it with some other bloke? 
Gone was the brushing of lips, faint and fleeting. Harry’s liquid confidence started to come into play as his lips formed into a smile when he gave you his tongue and hummed as he did. 
Harry cupped your face as he slanted his mouth over yours, soft moans leaving your throat as you kept him close. 
Lips were coaxing, as he groaned between quiet wet smacking sounds that otherwise would have had you cringing. 
Now he had you however, how could he part? Your smell was intoxicating to him, as was the touch of your fingers in his hair and nails gently scratching at his scalp. His mewls were catlike when he pressed his wet lips to your skin.
Breathing now more like a pant, it puffed against your elongated neck as he pulled away and made a beeline for your clavicle and then chest, movements slower. Chestnut hair tickled the underside of your chin and caused the faintest of smiles to ghost across your lips from the way it felt.
His nose nudged the collar of his shirt that sat against your body enticingly. The smell of your perfume everywhere to him. 
Now lower down you found his forehead was pressed to your clavicle as you felt his teeth playfully tug the cotton between them. A puff of air left your nose as you bit down onto your bottom lip to try and suppressed your giggle.
“Smells like us,” he hummed, mouth breathing hot and heavy against the shirt that sat directly above your nipples. “‘S tha’ good.”
Your only response was the tipping back of your head, fingers carding heavily through the hair at the nape of his neck. 
Had he always been this skilful? Vocal, sure. But it never quite hit you like it was doing tonight. His deep hums and moans, his hands spreading so confidently across your back to hold you to him.
And when you cradled the back of his head and pressed that was when you found yourself moaning his name deep from the back of your throat as his mouth gently sucked at your hardened nipples through his beloved shirt.
His name left your lips again, this time  in the softest gasp as a small frown hit your eyebrows and your hips started to faintly roll atop his. He moaned gratefully into your chest, his tongue wetting the fabric of his shirt so it clung to your raised nipple.
As he nosed along the cotton, he found your second nipple, his hand quick to raise to the first and squeeze at your breast that had not been forgotten. His touch wanted - you and it - to know that.
This is what you’d been missing so long. A sense of feeling you had buried somewhere else. Blocking out the way he managed to make you feel more alive than anyone else had. 
With cheeks hollowed as he suckled, you whispered, “That’s nice.”
His hum of agreement vibrated through your chest as he kept his face pressed against you. 
Everything about him became deliberate and slow, his hands now moving underneath your shirt and fingertips gently grazing at soft, warm skin prickling goosebumps in their wake.
Sliding lower his left hand palmed against the back pocket of your jeans, fingers catching against the thick and sewed seams. Hand pressed heavy to aid the soft rock to your hips, tapping lightly to the top of your bum.
“‘M gonna take these off,” he hummed, looking up at you from where his face was still pressed into your chest.
“Are you?”
It felt as if the room spun before you could even comprehend what was happening, a squealed laugh leaving your lips next as your arms tightened around Harry’s shoulders. He lightly lifted and rolled you, your back landing against his mattress gently as your laughter tapered off.
His lips were sponging kisses to your jawline and cheeks, as you felt the backs of his fingers slide gingerly against the exposed skin of your stomach. Slowly you felt the fabric pull away and fall slack against your stomach when he managed to twist the button with one hand, as your arms fell against the mattress and into the pillows that were slightly pressed higher against the headboard.
“Took you long enough,” you goaded, a smirk lacing your lips as you felt Harry pull away and watched him kneel sitting back with his feet against his bum. 
His face was a picture, clearly amused, as he swiftly pulled his own shirt away and threw it behind him. Hands slowly trailed back up to the waistband of your jeans as he lightly hovered over you.
His head found your stomach, the soft skin on show from where the tee had ridden up. Soft puckered kiss, he lifted his head and pressed his chin into your stomach. 
“Last chance,” he voiced, soft. While he wasn’t willing to forget about it all, regardless of the ache he had between his own legs, you had to be in this with him as much as he was. 
Blinking down at him, you moved your hand up to gently push through his hair and without words raised your hips off the bed enough for him to get the message.
The smile that pulled at his lips, was so triumphant you had to knock your head back to stop yourself from chastising him for being full of himself. 
Your hands however couldn’t help themselves as they joined Harry while he pulled your trousers down your legs and watched goosebumps rise upon your skin from their exposure to the cold. 
Now he was at the end of the bed, you dropped your head to the side to look at him. The way he looked as he carelessly threw your item of clothing over to the chair that sat in the corner of his room. 
His eyes slowly came back to you, as he followed his own motion and saw the faintest of smiles dance across your features. 
“What yer thinking?” 
You were thinking a lot of things. Mainly more so how mystical he looked in the soft glow of the London evening that was creeping in through the haphazard way he had drawn his curtains. Your smile only deepend at how it was more so from the street lamp lights than any full moon, but he didn’t have to know that.
Of course he would want to though, because your smile was more so on show now thanks to the thought in your mind.
Harry shook his head as he fought his own smile, dropping his face slightly to watch his hands as he fiddled with his own jeans.
“Whatever’s got you smiling, ‘s doing nothing for my ego as ‘m undressing m’self in front of yer.”
You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself, which is why you lightly laughed. 
He spoke your name in a pretend warning.
“‘S doin’ everythin’ for you,” you spoke sultry, “Don’t even try it. Got a girl half naked and waiting for you.”
At those words he looked up at you, through his curtains of thick waves that had fallen into his line of vision. 
You breathed deeply, eyes unable to move from his captivating stare even though you knew he was practically naked from the waist down. You knew from the way his upper body moved as he pushed down his jeans; you knew from the sound of the clothes bunching around his ankles. 
Now you found yourself wondering again. Wondering if he still kept his condoms where he had done last time. Sometimes in the bedside table drawer, other times hidden in the top of his wardrobe. 
Were you going to see him twist and turn, get him showing you how white his bum cheeks were in comparison to his infuriatingly evenly tanned thighs and legs? Or was he going to hold your eyes, dip his knee into the bottom of his bed and crawl up you once more so he could grab one from the bedside table.
“Not just any girl,” he finally replied, his knee dipping into the bottom of the bed. You supposed that answered your question. 
“No?”
A small shake of his head. 
“The girl.”
Harry chuckled, giving himself away as he watched the way you relaxed deeper into the mattress as he found your legs easy to accommodate him. 
“I’ve never been the anything,” you emphasised.
With his lips against your cheek, you felt his puffed breath as he responded, “Yea, you fuckin’ have.”
You kept him to you with a hand against the back of his head, fingers woven through his hand unable to not enjoy the feel of his silky locks beneath your touch. Reacquainting yourself with everything that you thought you had lost.
His lips unlatched from yours with a soft, wet sound as your eyes rolled back into your head when he started to trail kisses down your cheek, down your neck once more.
There was no mistaking how greedy they were, his chin knocking yours and his teeth scraping against your skin as he held your jaw with a steady hand in hope of keeping you still beneath him. 
Legs moved from where they were open, softly brushing at his sides so your calves wrapped and touched the back of his thighs. The feel of his hairs against your smooth legs becoming a weirdly exhilarating reminder of your closeness once more. 
Head buried in your chest, you felt him locate the wet patch against the cotton from his previous play and quickly enclose his mouth once more. Warm hands pushed beneath your body and the mattress, sliding underneath and raising your chest further to his face. 
Your mouth fell open as you felt the pressure of his lips and tongue, enclosed around your nipple again, grow stronger. With a hand in his hair once more, you wondered if he was going to take you out of this shirt, or fuck you in it. 
As the pressure lessened, with your head pressed into the bed beneath you, you heard the rustling of his nose and face against the shirt. He rubbed his face against you, inhaling and moving his hands closer to your lower back. 
Hands in contact with your underwear, you felt him smooth over the fabric of your bum. He pulled at your thigh, before pushing at your knees with a gentle but assured touch. 
“If I remember correctly,” he started, voice muffled as his face was still pressed to your breast. “This leg needs to go here, like this. Mm?” 
Clammy hand splayed against your thigh, you felt him direct your other leg, “And this one needs to be a bit lower, otherwise you get cramp.” 
There was a pause, and you could feel the way his lips were twitching atop the cotton of the tee. Matching yours at the flippant comment that was only funny because it was true.
Humming again, he added, “Keep ‘em like this. Keep me here like this.” 
Doing what he asked, you bit back a moan when he moved to fit his palm over you through your underwear. The warmth from it radiating through you, making your throb and giving you the urge to fold your legs in on it.
Tentative strokes were what you received, at first. Up and down, coaxing you and drawing you into him. Then his fingers became more confident, certain in their touch, moving with a sense of familiarity you had been missing. 
“‘S this okay?”
His voice was soft, hard to hear over your breathing and the blood starting to rush around your ears. You found yourself nodding, however. Giving him the permission he desired, making his next movement the easiest. 
His fingers hooked, slipped underneath the thin piece of fabric and the quiet groan that left his lips only had you moving your legs that bit higher. 
“‘S it nice.”
Harry was enticing. From his oozing velvety voice to his careful, barely there touch. You were lost to him. Finding it hard to breath as your body begged for you to be actually - really - touched. 
With a heavy swallow, you felt your eyes fall shut with your slow, deep breath and let your head turn to the side, finding the edge of a propped up pillow to shield your torture expression. 
“Don’t hide from me,” his voice lazily made itself known, as he looked up from under his brow at you and caused your eyes to drop as you looked down your body. He descended lower and lower, hands pushing up at his tee against your stomach, to reveal your bare skin to him. 
Spongy kisses, encased by stubble, pressed into your skin. His fingers never once let up in their tease, touch opening you up for him. The soft twitch of your legs when his fingers landed on your clit, sliding over it. 
“Relax for me,” he hummed. “You good… s’it feel good?”
Confident nod, you swallowed again. Tongue pushing between your lips to lick away the dryness. 
“Okay wi’this?” 
Another nod.
The press of his fingers onto your clit caused you to breathe deeply. A hiss of ‘yes’ as you exhaled. 
“Tell me if it’s changed.”
And you knew what he meant. His desire to know if you still liked things the same as before important to him. 
You couldn’t help the low and long moan that left your throat. Neither could you stop the lift of your hips from the bed as you twisted your body as he stroked at your clit. 
Heavenly ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ were pulled from you. Encased by ‘yeses’ of various pitches. Harry’s nose was buried into the skin of your ribs, having managed to push the tee you still wore to underneath your boobs and in the process expose more of your skin to him.
His mouth sucked against your skin on the inside of your left boob, just at the underside, and from the groan he omitted you knew you were going to be left with an almighty love bite. 
“Oh,” you sighed, as you felt his tongue lave at the mark, again nudging upwards and taking the shirt with him. Tongue over your exposed nipple, alert from the cold and due to your aroused state. 
Your lower half was warm, fire stoked while he stroked at your clit. A sharply exhaled ‘fuck’ from you had him smiling around your nipple. The last time you had found yourself getting this wet - soaked and slick, the kind that meant your walls were smooth and would pull him right in - had been with him. 
A laugh left you from underneath your breath, one not noticed by Harry who was too lost in the feel of you beneath him. The thought of anyone being able to get you this way from an act so virginal was unknown. Of course, he was the exception. Of course. 
“Hear tha’?”
So lazy he couldn’t even ask you properly. 
“Nice an’ wet.”
The slip of his fingers moving lower had you humming delightfully, legs falling open a bit more as his fingers danced at your entrance. The contrast of the heel of his palm to your clit was welcomed, warm but dry in comparison to heavily wet fingers. 
You could feel yourself pulsing as his palm gently rubbed you again, nervous energy had you teetering. Fingers at your center. You wanted them, you wanted him in anyway he would give you himself. 
Quiet, apart from staggered breathing, he smiled to himself when he felt your walls give way to him and his two fingers with ease. Your moan was voracious, a clear need apparent as the edges of it died against your dry throat. 
He knew it was his name. He had heard it like that before. Plenty of times. Said in the same tone too. Sprinkled with incoherent desire. 
“‘S that want you wanted?” He found himself asking. “Should’a just said.”
And you would’ve if you could. But instead your head was tossed back and your toes were curling into the sheets. 
These were the moments he has missed. When he really thought about your time apart. The moments where the two of you were so lost in each other that the nonsense that slipped from each of your lips was met with no judgement but rather embraced. 
Reacquainting after time apart. Rekindling your desires and unspoken love for one another. 
Eyes on your face, he couldn’t  quite see you how he would’ve liked but he did nothing to change it. His own want went out of the window in favour of you getting and keeping yours. 
The smell of you was everywhere as he dropped his eyes and pushed his face against your boobs once more. A man quite willing to suffocate in his need to want more. 
He could feel your falling apart under his experienced touch, relentless and unfleeting now. His fingers curled and with each ‘come hither’ your breathy moans only drove him on. 
“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he spoke through gritted teeth, the tension in his arm burning at his wrist. Mutters of desperate mantras - ‘come on, come on’ - mouthed to your skin.
And you could - like this - you could. But did you want to?
While you were feverishly hot, everywhere, for him - body unable to stop rolling with each pull of his fingers - your head knocked back and softly shook from side to side. 
“No,” you moaned lightly, “Not yet… Harry.” 
“No?”
His questioning had you dropping your eyes, head still lolled to the side with pouted expression. 
Mind still slightly hazy, you stared at him. He was still in his underwear, very obviously hard. Head nudging slightly, you breathed, “Come here.”
Empty. That’s how you felt when he slowly moved his fingers and left you clenching around nothing but the cold air of his bedroom. 
His right hand was against your skin, middle and third finger slightly hovering away as they were coated in you and he selfishly didn’t want to lose that to your flesh but rather his tongue. 
Legs welcomed him, smoothing around the backs of his thighs once before lifting and using your  feet to try to push his underwear down. 
Harry let out a noise you hadn’t heard in a while, a mix between a grunt and chuckle. The kind that created an aggravated fire within you.
“‘S not gonna work,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of you against his clothes bulge. Your one thigh lifting to encourage him to roll onto his back.
And he did, taking him with you. A mess of awkward limbs tangling. With shaky knees you climbed over him, eyes down and taking in his underwear.
A pair of black briefs fit him just right, hugged him and holding his straining cock. 
Your eyes slowly rose up his body, his chest lifting and falling with heavy breathing as his chin softened while he looked down at you with his fingers just about leaving his mouth from where he’d cleaned your arousal off of them. 
You felt his eyes peering at you as you lowered down, nose first teasing against the waistband of his underwear before you found your lips pressed kisses to the tops of his thighs. Enjoying a little bit too much the feel of his leg hair against your nose and lips. 
Hand lifted, it blindly sought out the waistline of his pants and allowed fingers to slip inside to pull down the material. 
Just about past his thighs, you locked eyes with Harry. His soft blinking gaze and content smile had you grinning impishly, knowing in the faintly lit room he would most likely be able to make out the blush upon your skin. 
You’d saw but more arousingly heard his cock move as the briefs which encased it gave way and it fell back, heavy, against Harry’s lower abdomen. And that was where it lay, next to the hair in Harry’s stomach and down to his pubic region. 
Small crawl to get you better situated, you flipped some of your hair over to your opposite shoulder and felt him touch the back of your head with a barely there graze as you licked up the underside of his cock.
“Shit, darling,” he breathed, voice blissful above you but filled with a rawness only brought on by sexual vulnerability. 
Looking up his body, you could see the grin that had made its way to his lips. His teeth quick to bite it away, with little to no avail. 
You licked again, mouth moving lower to delicately suck one of his balls into your mouth. 
The groan that left him was husky, right from the back of his throat. The kind that gave you shivers from how unguarded it was. His legs widened against the bed, your eyes diverted to his thighs from his movement. How thick they looked as they flattened beneath you on his bed. 
Wrapping your hand around him, you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. Up and down. Slowly taking in every movement and what it did to him. Just like you remembered.
“‘S this right?” You asked, hand and mouth working him and his balls over. Looking up once more you watched him hum, with the smallest of nods. His lips were rolled into his mouth, dimples prominent as they dipped into his cheeks.
His nostrils flared as he breathed and his hair had started to fall across his forehead from how he’d been dipping his head back into the pillows beneath him.
“Squeeze me ‘ere,” he reminded you, voice holding a slight tremble, his hand encasing yours and encouraging a tighter hold as he leisurely dragged both his and your hand up and down his cock. “Slowly- tha’s it.”
You pulsed between your thighs as you watched him moving your hand with his, each downward pull showing his glistening head more and more. Heavy swallow, you knew he was holding back and you would be lying if you said the visual wasn’t encouraging you to take him in your mouth properly.
Almost like second nature you did exactly that. Licking at your lips as you lifted up and wrapped your lips around his exposed tip. When his hand faltered from the pleased sound you voiced now you were on him, you were able to slip from under his grip and felt him continue to wank as you suckled so teasingly. 
With each bob of your head, you felt his hand pull away more, as your mouth and jaw stretched around his hard cock. 
“Yea’,” he groused, deeply when his hand fell to give way to your mouth and move to shift your curtaining hair. Harry rolled his hips up gently, eager to get the last bit of him down your throat. Old him would’ve voiced it too, but he felt this moment didn’t call for that.
He softly fucked your face, if there were such a thing. The nudges of his cock warming through your core as the throbbing sensation that had been lingering between your legs only grew.
Harry fought against himself to make you gag, teetering on it with each raise of his hips as his glassy eyes barely focused on you. Too engrossed in the filth he wished to voice. 
“God, look at you,” he dropped his head back. Ironic really. Unable to continue looking as he said it. It was tame in comparison to how he wanted to speak.
So, he laughed. Breathy at first, before becoming a little bit louder. You lips twitching into a smile as you lifted off of him and gently tugged before letting it fall and bounce proudly erect. Kissing up his stomach and placing your knees either side of his hips. 
He had almost forgotten you weren’t completely naked until you sat on top of him covered up. Eyes too taken by your face to care, as you blinked down at him with a doe-eyed expression that made him want to lap you up in any way he could have you.
His right hand pulled you down to him, lips greedy against yours as his left hand found the top of your bum cheek, trying to blindly find his cock and guide him into you regardless of knowing it wouldn’t work.
“Like this?” He asked as his lips hovered at the corner of yours, wanting to know if you wanted it this way. “How’d you wan’ it?”
“On top.”
“Me?”
Your voices were breathy as you spoke around the faintest of kisses. Both eager to start from the feel of you both so close to each other. 
The faintest of nods was given to him and it was all it took for him to roll the both of you, further continuing to ruckle up the bedsheet beneath you.
“Do I need one?”
And you knew you should be responsible and not shake your head no at his ambiguous mention of protection. All rushed and breathy, chest heavy as he exhaled in a nervous rush, but you just wanted him. Bare and in you. 
Underwear was quickly removed before you’re resumed your position. 
He watched you softly as you shook your head no, Harry pushing the shirt up under your boobs, your arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss at your jaw and cheeks. 
“Planning on staying over?” 
Feeling him shift up and jar his head back, just enough to get a good look at you, you stared at him not knowing how to respond. It was practically morning now, so hadn’t you already? 
His hands moved your legs as you thought, his one holding you where he needed you to be. 
“Don’t think ‘bout it for too long, darling,” he joked nudging his nose gently against you as he watched the way your lips went against you, smiling at his words. 
“Let me know how long we can go for,” he added, gently taking his cock that was sprung and bobbing between you into his hand. He looked down and tapped it to your wetness, sliding it down with a press of his fingers to the topside of his shiny cock to line himself up.
“Gonna let me have you all night.” 
Your breathing picked up, chest trembling slightly at how much more of a statement those words sounded than a question. An amorous glance looked back at him, slow blinking and head lolled gently to the side. 
“Eh? Sleep in the mornin’?”
A deep and shaky breath had your mouth falling, your eyes slowly shutting as you felt him push in. You were right when you thought about how easily you would take him earlier. Body crying out for a good fuck. 
“Fuck me,” he groaned deeply, head dropping forward and hair hanging down. You reached for him, wanting to see his face.
Harry obliged you, his face turning to find your wrist and pressing a chaste kiss to your skin. “Missed havin’ you like this,” he breathed. Quick bite down to his bottom lips, nostrils flared.
“‘S tight.”
He knew the remark was boyish. Unable to stop himself as he eased out and rolled his hips back into yours. Each push and pull giving you a little more of him. Deep frown etched between his eyebrows as his breath caught in his throat, mouth slightly fallen and lips starting to dry. 
“Haven’t-“ your voice croaked, head dipping into the pillow beneath you.
Haven’t slept with anyone in a while. Haven’t slept with anyone since you last slept with him. Haven’t had the desire to. 
He hummed in agreement as the two of you felt the words fall away from you both. Harry’s concentration firmly on each roll of his hips as he gave you more of him. The rhythm he set being one that you could only describe as intimate. Familiar. 
He was warm on top of you as he alternated between grinding dips of his hips, thrusts that were tantalisingly slow, making your hips roll up to meet him and causing him to smile at how you wanted it. 
He had to voice it. “You want it, don’t you?”
He only knew so easily because he did too. He had done the minute he fucked the whole thing up and let you slip away with his dwindling text messages in response and shorter phone calls every time you had a chance.
Your hand glided to the back of his head, the other down to his bum as you encouraged him to give you his entire weight. He was close but you want him closer. Close was never close enough. 
Was that enough to answer his question of wanting it, wanting him? 
Squeezing at his bum, you fought the urge you had to give him a slap, too caught up into the heavy groan that moulded into your face as he pressed his nose to your skin.
“You make me good,” he lowly gruffed against your cheek, his hand trailing down to take yours from his bum.
Fingers laced and pressed against the mattress upon which you lay, you tilted your head back and pressed it harder into the pillow beneath you. You keened and mewled beneath him, breathy noises of indecipherable words as the head of his cock bumps your spot inside. 
“You make me feel good.”
You were taken by his gasp, how desperate he sounded as he hiked your leg higher, wanting you to spread yourself open for him. His hips don’t give you much choice other than to play along as he moved with an assiduity you had never found with any other man. 
He allowed you to feel every inch of him going in, pulling out and going back in. Teasing himself and you with a slow and measured pace that had you passionately panting underneath him. 
“No one gets it like this.”
Looking at him with heavy-lidded vision, you wove your fingers through his hair and tugged. His face contorted blissfully, breath catching in his throat before it heaved out of his mouth as his chest forced him to exhale. 
You were nodding, agreeing with him. No one had you like this. Him like this. It like this. Sweltering and sticky. 
Teeth gritted, he grunted as he thrusts grew heavier now with more conviction behind their motion. 
“Deeper,” you gasped, “Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
His pelvis was heavy against yours now, making it difficult for you to lift and roll your hips to meet his thrusts. And he knew you loved it like this, he still knew that. 
Legs practically pushed to your chest, held there by your own fruition as they rocked and rubbed up against his fleshy sides cradling him to you, feet bobbing in the air with toes curled.
The sensual roll he was giving you caused the grip of your fingers to go slack against his head. You could feel him smiling against your skin, as your breath hitched in your throat and your hand squeezed at his. 
“Touch my arse,” he moaned, sliding his hand out of yours and breathing in quick succession until your hand met his bum cheek once more. 
This time you didn’t falter, gently tapping and feeling the tension to his thrusts as he clenched. Quick squeeze and nails digging in creating crescent moons against his white bits. “Yeah darlin’, know I like it like tha’.” 
Head turned to the side, you messily brought your mouths together. He chuckled as you broke away, probably from the words he’d just spoken. Laughter dying down into a hum as your feet wrapped around his lower back.
His lips were dry as they met yours, too caught up in how his mouth hung open, to make them wet and inviting, as his need to breathe was evident. 
“No ones like you,” you admitted. “No one comes close.”
He revelled in the whine of your last word, how it had your back arching and allowed him to wind his hand around you to lift your bum slightly to encourage your hips to continue meeting his.
He knew you were tired, the breathy whines that were spoken up towards the ceiling were not lost on him. And he knew he had to keep going, to give it to you how you deserved. To make up for the lost time, to say sorry for ‘being a bit of a dick’. A lot of a dick. 
When you knocked your head back, your eyes were unable to concentrate and he was mesmerised by the visual of complete, unadulterated lust that was present on your features. Hair sticking to your temples from your exertion and face void of any concern. 
“Make me come,” you whispered your plea, feeling him bury his face into your neck and drop himself down flush to you. With one hand woven through the hair on the back of his head, your other stayed at him bum feeling the grind of his groin against yours as he lay on you. 
He was sensual now, if not a little tired himself, as his breathing left his mouth in hot pants against the side of your neck. You could feel yourself beginning to flush from the heaviness of his body as you both rocked from the force of his motions and the fullness of him above you.
With rustling sheets and sounds of grunts, your cooed ‘oh’ left you, as you felt the motion of Harry’s hips pickup pace. Your fingers clawed into his hair, lifting the strands and softly pulling as your body ached in the most delectable way.
Harry groaned around a smile, muffled by your skin as he could feel his stomach start to tighten; his orgasm impending. He tried to hold off as much as he could, eager to watch you come undone first in the best way he could as he was rendered speechless and breathless alongside it.
Instead you were both a mess of tangled limbs, with rocking motions so vigorous that you felt yourself moving up the bed. A symphony of noises - slapping skin, feeble grunts and creaking bed.
Harry wheezed, knowing he sounded pathetic by too caught up to care. Through hooded eyes you caught sight of his mouth falling agape before he ground his teeth together as his thrusts heavily rolled into you, nudging your entire body.
Your mouth fell as his name unashamedly fell from your lips. Demandingly, but in a juxtaposed whisper, you told him to give it to you. 
“I am,” he whispered. “Oh, I am, darling- Mmhm.“
You whimpered, feeling each breath get harder to produce as your abdomen began to tighten and your chest heave. “I’m coming,” you hastily whispered. Voice nothing more than a pant. 
Looking up at Harry, you watched his bottom lip become captive to his teeth, as his nostrils flared while he breathed. His thrusts were at their heaviest now, wetter and sloppier but getting the job done.
“Gonna- oh.”
This was the loudest you’d been in a while. Moans long and dying off into wordless bliss as your muscles tensed and your orgasm rolled through you. Leaving you as nothing more than cloudy thoughts, and a warm, floaty body.
You felt the bounce of his laugh against his skin from his breath, as he continued to move above you and moulded you into nothing but a high-pitched mess as he wouldn’t stop.
Body falling slightly slack, relaxed and pliant to the bed, you felt Harry move his face into your neck and nudge his hips once more. His ruts were less rhythmic, rough grunts and indecipherable slurring only matching his pending euphoria. 
With his final, heavily thrust, his hips slammed to a stop against yours. Your breathing stuttered as you held him to you, hands moving over his shuddering shoulders and ears listening to his muffled groans which vibrated through you.
“Yea’,” he drawled. Low from the back of his throat. “Yes.”
***
Sunday mornings were made to be slow. To bask in the stillness. To hear nothing but the blood that was rushing through your ears.
It was far too bright to be considered early morning. Not with the winter months looming. 
You stretched your limbs, listening for the crack of your back as your hands reached for the t-shirt that was still awkwardly bunched up to your armpits. 
Rolling your body slightly you reached for the hem and pulled it down, letting your head fall to the side to see an empty bed which allowed a sense of regret to creep into your morning thoughts. Blinking slowly, you almost missed the sound of the bedroom door gently bouncing against the wall.
A hushed, “bollocks” spat out for the other side of the wood causing your lips to twitch upwards in a smile. 
A pause came to Harry’s movements as he caught your eye in nothing more than a pair of fresh underwear and mismatched mugs in each hand. 
“Stayed the night,” he hummed, eyes softly shining. A soft smile pulled onto your lips as he left a cup of tea closer to your side of the bed and you watched him start to blow gently at the lip of his own mug. With his mouth about to take a sip, he asked, “Fancy staying another?” 
796 notes · View notes
axther · 3 years
Text
𝐍 𝐎 𝐁 𝐎 𝐃 𝐘
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𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬. || 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
warnings: falling from a great height, yandere, obsessive behaviour 
taglist: @ererokii​, @patt-writes-stuff​
i’ve hit 200 followers!! <3 thank you all and I am super grateful for each and every one of you! 
Nobody understood Xiao. 
His life was riddled with contradictions. He was tossed from one foul life to the next, with pain and horror at every corner. He felt he deserved it, knew he did. But was it so terrible to want something more than to just wait for his inevitable death? Was he such a coward to want to feel alright? 
Nobody understood him. 
There were very few that even attempted. The traveller and Verr Goldet were the only ones he really considered to be his friends, but nothing more. He didn’t speak to them unless they approached him first. He just stood on the highest balcony of Wangshu Inn and wondered how long it would take for him to die if he leapt. 
But then he saw her. 
She was, in a word, moonlight. It was one of the lonelier, quiet nights at the Inn and right after the Lantern Rite Festival. There were even some Xiao lanterns, oddly enough, still laying around. The moon was rounder and brighter than Xiao had ever seen, though it might’ve just been because of her. She walked the docks, barely a whisper of a person with a glow all about her. The stars and the sea seemed to have a gravitational pull around her, lapping at the sky and docks, trying to touch even the air around her. She was divine in every right, and for the first time in years, Xiao felt the world around him melt away. This was different from any of the other times that he felt the distance between him and Tevyat. Tevyat was rough, sharp and serrated like a knife when he wandered into the depths of his mind. But this time, it was smooth. It was a pillow for him to sit on as he watched this random woman walk past the pier and into the quiet market. 
He leaned against the railing, carefully watching her stop by the bridge and pause. She held her hand out, and a small, white crystalfly fluttered to life in her palm. She seemed to whisper soft words to it, and Xiao felt a deep tugging in his heart. He wanted to know what she said, how it would feel if she whispered into his ears on quiet nights like this. Maybe what her hand, on his back, would feel like. Were they calloused? Scarred? Or were they soft? Long or short nails? 
Xiao placed his head in his hands, feeling almost human as he stared at her. The dress she wore was simple but glowed even amongst the dim lanterns. She was a walking beam of moonlight, and Xiao realised with a growing feeling of dread that she wasn’t human. No, the way she stepped and the little wings in her hand proved otherwise. The way that no one batted an eye at her, but simply went on with their sickly sweet night proved otherwise, the way that she was too beautiful and too whole proved otherwise.
She was a moon spirit, Xiao realised. 
He broke from the balcony to see her move again, dashing to the other side in hopes of not missing a glimpse of her. Something in him recoiled at the sight of her, sick, but he shoved it down. No, she was too beautiful and sweet and kind to make him feel disgusting. No matter if she was an adeptus, a spirit, or even Rex Lapis in disguise. No, she was something far beyond. And so was Xiao, he realised. Something in him longed for her in a way he hadn't felt in so, so long. And as she set the little crystalfly free, she turned and looked up, soft eyes going wide at the sight of Xiao. They were like the moon themselves, bright and so comforting that Xiao never wanted to let go. He was leaning over the side of the balcony, near falling over, hoping that she could never break eye contact with him again. But she slowly turned, walking back to the pier, and Xiao realised she was leaving. 
Something in him snapped. 
He leapt down from the balcony, hopping from eave to eave as fast as he could. He felt delusional, drunk on something he hadn't tasted in years. His heart raced and his head pounded as he slammed into the pier in a way that would've killed any lesser man. She was barely in front of him, and for a second, Xiao caught a whiff of some sort of distance, addictive scent-qingxin, rich and divine. It made him almost dizzy, and for a split second, he wanted nothing more than hold her so tight in his arms that the scent oozed out of her like blood and she would stain him forever. Qingxin was marked for him forever, rotting his head and leaving it all hollow. 
"You-!" She gasped and clutched her hand to her heart. "Are you alright?!"
Her voice was melodic, a sweet, holy song that made his head feel heavy. He didn't realise he was panting until he saw her concerned gaze fall upon him, the lonely sinner. 
"I..." At once, all words seemed to escape Xiao. They were stolen by her satellite soul, sucked in and kept for her own. Was this her own greed, or her unknowing iron grip? Was Xiao going mad? 
"Please, sir!" She put her hand on Xiao's cheek, and it was cold like he dipped his head into the ocean. It was so, so cold, and Xiao leaned in as a man starved. "That fall...though, I don't think you're human..." 
"Xiao." Xiao's voice came out rougher than he ever thought he was capable of, and he shut his eyes. "I am...Xiao." 
"Xiao?" She started pulling her hand away, but Xiao snapped his arm up to keep it in place. It made his head stop pounding, and the night seem so peaceful. 
"Wait." He seemed only capable of one word at a time, but he was fine with it. Being even in the presence of her was enough for him. 
"Oh, no..." The young woman trailed off, still trying to tug her hand away. "You've..." 
"Your name?" Xiao interrupted before mentally kicking himself. How dare he stop such a song from flowing? Who was he before this glorious angel? 
"YN-! Oh!" She gasped, finally ripping her arm away. "I must go, I'm so sorry..." 
"Wait!" Xiao barked, but she managed to sidestep him and start backing slowly towards the end of the pier. He felt like he was about to convulse, and collapse into a thousand little shards of glass. "No, don't go!" 
"I shouldn't have come..." YN whispered, looking horrified. "I didn't think the rumours of you being here were true..." 
"Does it matter?" His voice was rough, and he realised this was like a predator chasing prey. YN's pretty little eyes were wide, flushed with concern and horror. 
"Yes! Oh, gods, I'm so sorry!"
"Just stay here," Xiao murmured, drunk off of her pleading. "You can right whatever you've done wrong." 
"It's not that simple..." YN whispered, gasping as Xiao took a sudden extra step and took her shoulders into his hands, gazing up into her eyes. 
"Please..." Xiao felt almost thirsty, dizzy and drowsy at the thrill of her being so close. "You can stay the night." 
"I have to go..." YN's eyes flickered nervously over to his hands, gently pulling them into her own if only to get him to let go of her. 
"I..." For a moment, just a single, spotty moment, Xiao felt something in him wake up. What was he doing? What did he do that made this sweet young woman look so horrified? Why? Why? 
But then it was gone, like the crystalfly in the breeze. And it was too late. 
YN had booked it to the end of the pier and Xiao had to launch himself, hurling his spear barely an inch from her and opening his arms. He could feel her dress on his skin, the flurry of movement, the soft gasp that made his ears ring. His arms were almost around her hips, he almost had her all to himself-
When she erupted into a thousand pearly crystalflies. 
Xiao fell to his knees, arms closing in on nothing as they all fluttered out of his way and towards the lake, and he froze. The world stopped turning, the lake stopped churning, and the moon mocked him cruelly. His head was pounding, his arms hurt, he felt like every breath was going to be his last. 
And Xiao howled. Xiao howled like an injured dog, screaming and begging for that last moment of peace that made him think everything was going to be alright. 
This wouldn't be the last time he would see her, Xiao thought. No. He was going to tear apart Liyue, Tevyat, and even Celestia if it came down to it. 
All for her. How romantic. 
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"Did you know, Traveller?" Verr Goldet was talking to the Traveller, humming softly as something screamed ever so distantly. 
"Hm? What's up?" Paimon squeaked, tilting her head alongside Aether. 
"There's a legend about moon spirits around here." She pointed to the balcony, up to the great full moon. "If you see one, you'll go mad with love upon seeing something so ancient and beautiful. Legend had it that they disguise themselves from mortals, leaving only the adepti and archons to see them and only coming out at a full moon. I wonder how it is if an adeptus sees one." 
"That's weird to bring up." Paimon frowned, and Aether nodded. "Did something happen?" 
"Be careful around Xiao, Traveller." Verr Goldet stared with a dark look at the balcony. "Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it can all come crashing down." 
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Nobody understood Xiao. And nobody ever could. 
177 notes · View notes
babylooneytoonz · 3 years
Text
The Vessel [Pt. 6]
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader
Summary: Yennefer doesn't like you, and now you know why. Are you going to do something to make her believe that it's not how she thinks like, or are you just going to go with it, because secretly you know that what she just said to you, is in fact, the truth? Geralt is finally beginning to open up to you, but for how long?
Warnings: None
[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]
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"How about this, [Y/N]?" Yennefer stood in front of you, her fingers running through the fabric of a pale, cream coloured silk dress, with dark red borders. If there was one thing that you could bring yourself to commend Yennefer for was her taste— the dress she was looking at was fit for royalty.
Yet, out of spite, and out of the fact that you had been dragged out on early morning, woken up from your sleep to accompany the mage on her quest to get you a nice dress, when she had the power in her to magically do those things pissed you off. And then, there was the fact that you were to be presented, on full display, at a celebration she had organised. You— the vessel— a ruined woman— who was carrying a Witcher's baby, for her.
You had a lot of clothes that you still somehow managed to fit into, as your belly was a little rounder, and one could see the outline of a burgeoning baby bump, if one was to look carefully. But tell that to the Mage, who was right now standing in one of the village shops, looking for a dress for you.
"Um, it's good," you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest— you just wanted to leave.
"Good that you like it. Once my baby grows within you, you're not gonna be able to fit into those shreds anyway," she said, eyeing your plain dress in an almost distaste, and you suppressed the urge to scoff.
"We'll take it, how much for it?" She then turned towards the woman, curling her lips, regarding the older looking woman who smiled wide, excited that she was getting some business as she informed the Mage that it would be ten coins.
Once Yennefer had paid off the woman, she tossed you the dress, and you groaned, catching it midair, and just like that, you began following the woman again, like a lost puppy.
Finally, the two of you were out of the shop, and you felt like you could breathe again. You waited a few seconds, for the way she had brought you here, you assumed she will do the same— open a magic portal, grab your hand and pull you in. When she didn't, you frowned and turned towards her, questioningly, only to find her staring at you, studying you.
"Uh, what?"
"Nothing, love."
There it was; that fake sweetness, once again, ringing at the back of your mind, prompting you that something bad was to come.
"I hope you know that Geralt's never going to look at you the way he looks at me, right?"
You glared at her, your lips parting in surprise but she placed her index finger to your lips before you could even say anything. To her, you were like a little lamb, taking their first steps.
"I don't want you to end up falling in love with a man that doesn't know how to reciprocate those feelings."
You pursed your lips together, your eyes unwavering when Yennefer looked into them. Her fingers still rested on your chin, holding your face. In truth, you felt like a cornered animal.
"Don't worry, Yennefer. I won't. Geralt is.." You thought for a bit, your mind suddenly turning off, and the words that you chose next somehow popped into your mind just randomly— words that you regretted saying almost instantly the minute they escaped your lips, "Used goods."
Her eyebrow shot up in amusement, and her lips curled into a side smirk. Her thumb began to run along the side of your face, your neckline and she smiled, her other hand reaching out and rubbing over your belly lightly, "You're funny. You're very funny. Big words coming out from a woman's mouth, when you practically tossed your body to the Witcher for some coin."
"Yennefer, to be fair—" Your breathing hitched, as you took a sharp breath, and jerked her hand away, taking a step away from her, your hand protectively latching to your tiny bump, as you began stroking over it as though comforting it, "I tossed my body for some coin. You tossed the man you claim to love to fuck another woman. I think we both know how similar the two of us are, in many many ways."
Even the beautiful woman standing in front of you couldn't hide the scowl that formed on her face for a second. She lost it and immediately, turned away, flustered, still scowling, for you could hear her breathe heavy as she began to conjure up the portal, so the two of you could get back.
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You felt odd, like a fish thrown out of water amidst the flurry of mages, all around you. You knew many of them, mostly by name— you could see Tissaia de vries— you had only heard about her, and now she was right there, in front of your eyes. The funny part of it all was, that this celebration was for you, or for the baby you were gifting them with, but no one even bothered as to give you another look. It was all Yennefer.
You reached out, your fingers clasping against the glass of sparkling water in front of you on the table, where your plate of exotic freshly cut fruits lay untouched. You pulled it up to your lips, your eyes circling around, mostly in distaste at what you saw around you. Women— which you weren't sure if they were just illusions created by spells, or real, dressed in nothing, their naked bodies on display — walked around.
On one end of the hall, you saw Jaskier. He was surrounded by a flock of richly dressed older looking women, and you rolled your eyes at him, listening to him as he sang the infamous ballad, toss a coin to your Witcher, which suddenly reminded you of the brooding Witcher you knew. You looked around, your eyes scanning through the crowds until you spotted the familiar white hair, standing out from the rest of them.
He was standing in a corner, drinking ale from a silver pitcher, looking as bored as you were, which was ironical as this was technically his celebration too. You stood up, your glass of water still in your hand as you gracefully made your way to him, pushing your way through the naked women, frowning at the casuality of it all. Geralt spotted you making your way towards him so he shifted slightly so he he was now directly looking at you.
"Not enjoying your own celebration? It has naked women." You asked, giving him a ghost of a smile, trying to make small talk with him as you fixed yourself right next to him, leaning against the wall.
He grumbled something under his breath, typical Geralt of Rivia style, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself as you started looking around.
"You don't think I agree with Yennefer on everything?" He suddenly said, his voice low and heavy, that caused your head to turn towards him, "This is a waste of time."
"Well, Witcher—" You smiled, tight lipped, bringing your glass up to your lips as you took a sip, and started looking at Yennefer, who was in the center of the hall, mingling with the guests, and nodded, "If there ever is anything that you and me both can agree upon, it's this. This indeed, is a waste of time. Although—"
You eyed Jaskier; who was now laughing at something one of the women said, however his eyes were fixed on a naked woman standing by the table, her finger stretched as she beckoned towards the bard to join her, "Jaskier seems to be enjoying himself."
Geralt grunted, his gaze following yours until the two of you were watching the bard, and the whore disappear through one of the hallways in the back, and Geralt shook his head.
"Why? Does your friend embarass you?" You smirked, your hand flying to the side of your face, pushing the loose strands of hair behind your ear.
"I thought Jaskier's your friend," Geralt smirked back at you in retaliation, and this time, he didn't even try to hide it.
"Yes, he is but he doesn't embarass me, at all."
"Hm," Geralt brought the pitcher of ale to his lips and took a sip of it, a droplet of ale running down the side of his lips. For some reason, he found himself wanting to smile, but he had trained himself over the years not to.
"Well, I'll let you be. I need some air," you waved off, as you whispered, letting the empty goblet you were drinking water from rest against the table where Geralt was as you pulled yourself away from him, your arms instantly clothing around your upper body. Geralt nodded his head, as he watched you walk off.
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If it wasn't for the moon shining right on top of you, you wouldn't have been able to see a damn thing as you stepped out of the structure from the back. It was silent, except for occasional high pitched screaming from somewhere inside the stone structure, and you wondered if it was Jaskier, not that it was your concern.
Crushing the dried leaves underneath your feet, you stepped out until you were standing by the cliff, staring at the village at a distance, looking like glitter scattered over a black canvas, the tiny lights glistening.
You unknowingly took a step backwards, only to turn rigid and almost freeze, when your back hit something sturdy, yet you knew it wasn't a wall, it was strong but it felt soft against your back and you could feel someone's breath on you, signalling you that it was definitely a person.
You almost screamed, when Geralt grabbed a hold of both your arms, in an attempt to steady you to your feet, for you were technically, on a cliff , and one slip of your footing can lead you to tumble all the way down the humongously high mountain.
"It's just me."
You didn't realize how your breath had accelerated, your chest heaving up and down, and it was only the Witcher's voice that finally managed to calm you down a bit. You took a slow step around, turning so you were face to face with him, your bodies almost touching; at least you could feel your tiny bump rub against Geralt's abdomen, but he didn't seem to mind.
"You're not immortal," he murmured, in a husky voice.
You raised your brow, but did not attempt to step away from him. You didn't know what it was— maybe it was the warmth that his body was radiating, that you seemed to find comfort standing so close.
"Do you think there are any monsters on a cliff top?" You asked, looking up at him, wondering how his eyes were so — bright — you could literally see them glowing in the dark, the moonlight falling over his face, highlighting his features.
"Not all monsters are dangerous, some people are too."
"Touche," you smiled, still looking up at him, until there was silence, and Geralt cleared his throat, stepping away as whatever the moment was, finally ended.
Geralt kept standing by the edge of the cliff, his back now turned towards you, giving you a clear view of his sword as you lowered yourself against a rock, both your hands resting on your lap. After a few seconds of silence, the Witcher finally turned, his eyes meeting yours as he turned, but only for a brief second until he had walked up to where you were, and he was looking down at you. Almost silently, as though he had asked you to shift, you scooted slightly to your right, and the Witcher sat down too, his side brushing against yours.
"How are you?" He asked, in a low voice, the gentleness in his voice urging you to draw your lips into a smile as your fingers began toying with each other.
"I'm okay. I needed to get out. All that, I can't tolerate it. Makes me want to throw up. Not because of the baby but—"
"Hm, she can be a little too much at times," Geralt interceded, almost immediately, and you nodded, engulfed by the famous Witcher silence once again. Involuntarily, your hands flew up to the side of your arms as you began rubbing them, staring at the sky above you until you felt an urge to look at him.
"Geralt?"
He turned towards you, regarding you with a bit of glimmer in his already bright irises.
"Where would you go? I mean, where would Yennefer take the my baby.. your baby after the birth?"
He frowned a little, parting his lips slightly, letting his head tilt to one side, as his hand flew up to his temple, his index scratching it briefly, until he relaxed once again.
"Well, Yen, she would be staying here. You can stay too. If you want to be close to the baby. I'm sure Yen would appreciate the help."
"No, I guess I'd go back to my own life, take care of my shack back in the village. I'll maybe get a job at the tavern, will bring in some coin—" You drawled, staring at a distance when Yennefer suddenly walked up to where the two of you were, her dark eyes fixed on the two of you.
"Geralt, my love. There are people that would like to meet you. Am I interrupting something?" Yennefer was almost glaring at you, and Geralt cleared his throat, rather loudly, as he stepped up from the rock he was sitting next to you, and walked up to her, taking her hand in his.
"No, I thought something was wrong. Just wanted to make sure—" Geralt turned towards you, "— that everything was fine. Cliffs can be .. dangerous at night."
You pursed your lips, your eyes falling to their entwined hands, and when you looked back up again, you saw the sorceress regard you with a tiny smirk egging against her lips.
"Yes, Witcher, everything's fine, I don't need you following me around like I will need help all the time," Bitterness laced your words, and you swear you saw a look of hurt flash in his eyes just for a second before the usual broody look took over and he regarded you once more before the two of them turned around and started walking away.
Well done, [Y/N]. You frowned as you kept watching them walk away, Geralt's arm wrapped around Yennefer's waist, her head resting against his bicep.
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simpsiren · 3 years
Text
the deformed all-rounder;
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lee donghyuck x reader
At first glance, you would think that he’s just the class clown. If you’ve never seen him out of class, that would be your only perception of him. But in truth, he’s one of the most well known guys in school. Part of Dream, he’s always the talk of almost everyone’s day— everyday. But not mine. I see nothing more than an arrogant, playful and annoyingly confident guy who wants nothing to do with the rest of the school other than his friends, but girls are constantly falling on their knees for him and I can never understand why. But like any other seemingly perfect student who’s living the life, they were bound to be rough around the edges, some edges digging deeper than others.
genre. angst, fluff, strangers to friend to lovers, an extreme slowburn
warnings. none!
word count. 15.3k~
description. I never wanted to get involved with him. I never liked him from the start. His presence in class has always made my eyes roll due to his nature that I just never seem to be fond of like the rest of the school. Personal problems led us to meeting in detention. But when Haechan could have possibly slipped out something he shouldn’t have, and our instances of meetings got more often, coincidental or not, as much as I couldn’t tolerate that unique nature that sets me into flames of anger, the world has its ways of bringing us together regardless. And my curiosity got me to know that there was much more to him than what meets the eye.
!as they should masterlist!
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My eyes stared at my laptop screen, which only showed the five sentences I’ve typed out long minutes ago. My fingers couldn’t bring themselves up to type on the keyboard. Even if it did, it’ll simply hover above them for minutes as my mind remainded blank. I wasn’t able to think of anything to write. How was I able to type those five sentences when I didn’t even have a rough plot to go off by?
I was sitting alone in the quiet morning. I was able to get the keys to unlock the classroom since I’ve always been one of the little few that comes by very early in the morning. Silence made itself comfortable, the sound of the wind softly blowing in from the windows. Nothing came to mind. No ideas, no plot, no inspiration— nothing. Why wasn’t I able to write? I’ve faced such days when my brain would malfunction since I simply wasn’t in the mood. That was the case for most days. Today’s definitely not like that. Today was new. It’s not that I wasn’t in the mood, I just had no motivation. Why’s that? Since I didn’t have an idea. And who did I have to blame that for? No one but myself. And that’s what I didn’t like, not having to know the root cause of my inability to write.
I’ve tried to suppress my frustration, telling myself “It’s fine. Think deeper. You’ll find something to write. Just think.” But that sliver of encouragement was of no use at all as the inner voices of my self-disappointment popping up and attacking my confidence in every corner, and that was all I could think about. I instantly slammed my laptop shut, groaning out loudly and grabbing my hair. I leaned forward, elbows supporting my upper body as I balled fists in my hair. I took deep breaths in an attempt to stay calm. It worked, but I assumed it’ll only be for a short while.
I closed my eyes, thinking of them resting them awhile after being blinded by the screen’s light for almost an hour. Just then, I heard footsteps walking by. Instinctively, I looked up to the windows on the right hand side of the classroom that allowed us to see the hallway. Someone walked past. I couldn’t figure out who it was. It’s a guy. What seemed to be the only thing that stood out in the darkness was his somewhat bright orangey brown hair. Other than that, it was just his dark figure walking past. I glanced down on my phone. I still had thirty minutes till the school turned on the lights. Who is he and what was he doing here so early? From what I know, no one in this building comes to school early other than me.
I let out a sigh, shaking my head. For a moment I thought I had seen a ghost. But, I don’t believe in such things. The possibility was there though. Either way, I slid my laptop back into its leather case and placed it under my table. I waited in silence as I pressed my palm on my cheek, looking out the window. The trees swayed camly in the wind, the sun yet to rise and so the light that shined on the trees and school field gave off a grey hue. The sound of birds chirped softly in the distance. I slowly put my eyes to rest, as well as my brain before I get back to fighting another tiring day of school and making myself suffer even more by coming up with something to write, as well as other stressful things regular students go through.
I snapped back to reality once my classmate strolled in. So the day has started and I wasn’t able to enjoy the peacefulness of the morning any longer. It went by as usual. With the help of my friends making me laugh through each one hour class, I was able to keep myself fully awake. Then came History. The few subjects I liked most, but also hate. It wasn’t the subject’s fault, but the teacher’s. I had a strong dislike towards the way Mister Low taught History. I much rather preferred Miss Jenkins. But she only ever came to class as a relief teacher if Mister Low wasn’t around. To which was why I always prayed that something would happen to him so he wouldn’t have to clock into class. Luck wasn’t on my side today.
I said goodbye to all my other friends, taking my History materials and moving over to the classroom next door since the rest of my friend group took Geography, which I had zero interest in.
Mister Low barely thought us anything today. We were simply only told to write essays as time practice for our exam that wasn’t even coming in months time. I was hungry for content, to learn more about the topic that we were just barely a quater way done with. But he wasn’t giving any of it. I looked at the clock, thirty two more minutes. I glanced at my paper. I was already done with the essays, quickly pushing through it with the mentality of “Just get it done and other with.” That self-made motto was what got me through these three years. I then adverted my attention to Mister Low, who was sitting down at the teacher’s desk and typing away about who knows what, teacher things I guess.
The classroom was silent. And obviously it wasn’t because we were well behaved. I turned around, scanning my eyes over the classroom. Everyone was doing anything else but the task to be completed at hand. Majority were on their phones. They didn’t even bother hiding, their phones all out in the open on the table. Some were even holding their phones high up with their elbows on the table. The rest were either sleeping, drawing, or listening to music on their wireless earpieces.
I puckered my lips. My eyes shot to one person that caught my eye. Lee Donghyuck. Or what everyone else calls him by, Haechan. No one has called him by his real name before. Even the teachers call him Haechan. He was at the back, the farthest row of tables. His bright brown hair stood out to me. Was he the one I saw this morning?
Haechan was talking with some others at the back. They were having their own little group session, only their voices were being heard in the silent classroom as they huddled up. I faced back to the front but immediately turned around and glared when Haechan’s loud laughter spreaded across the room. Why wasn’t anyone bothered by them? How could anyone be fine with the fact that their annoying chatters and laughter constantly disrupted the class’s peace?
“Oi! Mister Low!” Haechan voiced out, making everyone, and I mean everyone, even the ones that are usually in their deepest sleep, turn their heads in sync to face Haechan. Mister Low lifted his eyes off his screen. “Yes?” He questioned with a tilted head. Haechan stood up from his seat and slowly made his way to the teacher’s desk, fingers interlocked behind him as he casually stride down the gap between the row of tables. He bounced on the balls of his feet slightly with each step.
“Can we get released early?” Haechan’s question made everyone turn their heads to each other and exchanged looks. “What is he thinking?” “Will he actually let us go?” “It’s Haechan. Let him do his thing.” Those are what I envisioned the students telepathically saying to each other. I however was shaking my head. There Haechan goes again. Being the all teacher’s pet and horning his ability to take advantage of each one of them, even the most strict ones. Mister Low was on the lenient side, the dumb lenient one to be specific— the pushover teacher.
“No. You still have twenty minutes. What would you guys do then?” Haechan laughed, clapping his hand once and keeping them clasped together in front of his chest. “It’s not like we’re getting off school grounds. Majority of us still have lessons after our late lunch. As you can see, all of us have already completed our essays. So I don’t see why you need to hold us any longer.” Haechan’s voice flowed in a formal and engaging way, just like an orator who can easily grab the interest of his audience. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “I can’t belive he’s actually doing this.” I mumbled to myself.
This proposal was taken into consideration as Mister Low didn’t give a reply, but was looking up elsewhere thoughtfully. After a moment, he sighed in defeat, lazily swirling his hand in the air. “Okay, okay. Go. Put your essays here.” Mister Low called out to everyone.
No one even bothered to greet Mister Low. Or give in their essays. Everyone packed their bags as quickly as ever and ran out, desperate on getting out of this hell-hole of boredom. Haechan muttered a “Thank you, sir.” skipping back to his acquaintances and they all gave him a pat on the back. Mister Low has already exited. And I was the only one left sitting there, frozen in shock. How did he even get Mister Low to agree to that? All he had to say was a few sentences. The amount of persuasion he brought to the table was incredible. But I didn’t like it. He had good speaking skills, that I know. But he’s using it for the wrong reasons.
“Aren’t you leaving?” The familiar confident voice rang in my ear. Just when I was deep in my thoughts, I looked up, seeing Haechan standing in front of me as the rest walked past. This was the first time he’s ever spoken “Yeah.” I whispered. It was also the first time I’ve ever spoken to him. I stood up, blinking twice. I gathered my things and made a run for the door. I would never want to talk to him again. Just from his voice I could tell he was annoyingly confident, a feature that is commonly seen from those popular guys in rom-com movies. He wasn’t a bad boy per say, just... over the top stuck up.
I got back to classroom after walking around school for the rest of the minutes. I didn’t have to do that if Haechan hasn’t released the class early. I had nothing to do. I could just stayed in class if it weren’t for Haechan. “You look dead.” Yiung said, coming up from behind and placing a hand on my shoulder. I dropped down to the floor after placing my materials on the table, covering my head with my arms. I was completely brain drained at that point. “History shot me flat out.” I replied, my voice muffled.
“Are you staying here for lunch again?” I felt a presence beside me. I lifted my head up, seeing Mina squatting down while Yiung had her arms folded. I hummed in response. Mina placed a hand on my back, rubbing it up and down slowly. “It’s okay. I’ll get you gummies to eat during Biology.” Mina reassured me. She stood up and called out to Yiung, the both of them waving at me and sending me mental support as they left.
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I was sitting at my study table, completed homework neatly stacked and pushed off to the side. The only thing left in front of me was my laptop, opened and glaring at me with its bright screen despite setting the brightness down to its lowest. My eyes never left the blank screen, an empty white simply looking back at me as it waited to be loaded with words. As much as I tried squeezing out every idea I had, I realised that it was all too boring. Too cliche, too predictable. It wouldn’t stand out like my other works do if I were to publish the piece of writing.
I glanced at the time shown on the bottom right of the screen. 6:05AM. I could get ready and head out now. I did stay up all night, but I took a nap immediately after coming home and ended waking up at eleven. My sleep schedule is all over the place. I lifted myself off my chair, turning my body here and there to stretch out my back and arms, instantly making my way to the bathroom.
I entered the school, greeting the security guard as he handed me the classroom keys. I placed my index finger through the key ring, swirling it around as the keys made its sound while it dangled and moved around. Just when I was about the enter the building to my classroom, I paused in my tracks. A familiar figure stood in front of another security guard. With squinted eyes, I went forward and pushed open the door.
“Hey.” I said, not directing it to a specific person. They didn’t respond and instead kept their stare on each other, which made me look at them weirdly. I shrugged and walked past them, slightly offended with their zero reaction. Due to the silence of the hallways, I was able to hear their conversation clearly, though they kept quiet the moment I came in.
“You aren’t suppose to do that. You’ll be reported to the principal. This is major.” The security guard lectured Haechan. “Honestly, I don’t care. Do what you want. I’ll settle it my own way.” I heard Haechan’s footsteps coming. Fast. He was storming. And in a matter of seconds, he was ahead of me, going a few more classes down, unlocking his classroom and furiously swinging open the door, disappearing out of my sight.
My steps to class got slower, my eyes not wanting to leave the opened door of Haechan’s classroom. Questions began circling in my head. What were they talking about? What is Haechan hiding that he had to keep it a secret from anyone who walked past them? Something major?
I took out my laptop from its leather case, turning it on and heading over to Google Docs. The stress of not having anything written settled in, but it somehow got overpowered by my thoughts and curiosity about Haechan’s situation. It was suspicious. Haechan talked to the security in a completely different manner. He was normally seen as the sun of the school. Bright, cheerful, always happy and living the life. But I felt the coldness of his words. It was so hard-hitting that I could feel it from when I was walking to class.
“Honestly, I don’t care. Do what you want. I’ll settle it my own way.” I shivered, closing my eyes and shaking my head. He was rough and harsh with his words. I was still shocked by it. However, as I looked at my screen again, something clicked in my head. I slowly brought my fingers up to the keyboard, they hovered above them for a moment before I began to type.
Major. Possibility of being reported by the principal. Keys...
I clicked on the period key at least twenty times before finally ending it with a question mark. I exhaled sharply, leaning forward against the table and allowing my elbows to support my upper body as I interlocked my fingers together and allowing my chin to rest on them. Why couldn’t I stop think about it? What was it that struck out so much that I couldn’t shake it off? It wasn’t even my business so why was I eager to find out?
“Wait.” I whispered. I thought about how this gave me the opportunity to come up with something. Thiller, mystery type of story. I’ve never written in that genre before, mostly being romance and fantasy. But Haechan’s suspicions behaviour moments ago peaked my interest. I could write something about that. I’ll use what I heard as guidance. I didn’t have an exact plot. Nor was I fully settled and happy with the idea, but I’d still be able to write the introduction with this mystery.
My fingers began typing away, faster than ever. The satisfaction of hearing the keyboard made its sound while I quickly pressed on each key. I was feeling that adrenaline to complete the introduction before the start of class. Something in me apparently fueled. But it wasn’t my motivation. I was simply typing. I didn’t feel anything. Aren’t writer suppose to be emotionally drawn and attached to their own book? It’s as if I’m writing to simply put words on paper without any other agenda, staying in the stagnant state of nothingness.
Later that day, I was met with the dreadful History class yet again. It’s the only lesson I had this week so might as well “Just get it done and over with.” I mumbled to myself as I made my way to the classroom next door. Everyone was doing their own things. Once again Haechan’s group of acquaintances were at the back chatting as loudly as ever. I call them acquaintances since I’ve only ever seen them hang out with Haechan during History. Other than that, Haechan doesn’t give a damn about anyone, besides the other Dream members.
I rolled my eyes and sat down at my table. Seconds later, Mister Low came in. We greeted him and sat back down. “So class today we’ll be doing another time practice after I go over some key point. I’ll be handing out the essay questions now. You’ll have to complete by the end of class.”
“You can’t be fucking serious.” I growled lowly, watching him handing out the papers to the first row in front. As he headed to my row I couldn’t help but feel the anger rising up in me. We aren’t actually going to be doing this right? When the student in front of me handed me the papers, I took one off the stack and passed it on to the back. My eyes looked down it. In annoyance, I scrunched it up in my hands, now smashing it to a small ball in my palm.
More than half an hour has already passed. He’s taking forever to go through the things that we learned, despite it not being a lot. I furiously pushed myself off my seat, the loud noise getting everyone’s eyes and attention on me. I looked down, teeth gritting as I tried taking in a deep breath before looking back up to Mister Low, who gave me a blank expression as his eyes travelled from the crumpled paper in my hand and back to me.
“I’m not doing this shit. What the hell have you been doing, Mister Low? You are barely giving us any content to learn and study. We’ve been doing time practices for weeks. I get that it’s important, but we aren’t even halfway done with chapter seven. Not to mention that we still have chapters eight, nine and ten to finish by the end of the fucking year!”
I was breathing heavily now. My arms were stiff and my stare on him fired with fury was intense. “Fuck your time practices.” I simply said, not giving a flying care about my consequences at that moment, throwing the crushed up paper past Mister Low and into the dustbin behind him. I ran a hand through my hair, turning around and seeing how everyone had mixed expressions. Shocked, satisfied, scared? Most probably all of the above. Haechan however had the widest smirk on his face. I swung my head back to Mister Low.
“I’m gonna have to give you detention for that, Miss _____.” I scoffed loudly, folding my arms and cocking up a brow, the corner of my lip lifting up ever so slightly to a smirk. “Do it. Give me hours of detention. More of your stupid practices. But you better teach this class something before I report you to the principal about how much you suck.”
Just like it was on cue, the school be rang, signalling that class had ended. I jerked my head slightly at Mister Low as I packed my things, everyone doing the same and rushing out.
“The fuck did you do?!” Lucas sat down beside me at the lunch table. Yiung and Mina were completing homework last minute and being the kind friend, I fed them chips whenever they opened their mouths for it. “You’re so busted.” Mina muttered, shaking her head in disappointment. “I shouldn’t be laughing oh God I’m sorry.” Lucas tried to suppress his laughter but wasn’t able to achieve it for even one second, bursting out laughing so loud. I slammed my hand palm down on the table.
“Someone had to do it! We can’t just be writing essays forever. We needed to learn the content but the idiot refuses to even do it. How’s that being a good teacher?” I angrily spoke, seeing Yiung opening her mouth wide. I shoved a chip in her mouth as she hummed in satisfaction. Lucas glanced down at his phone. “You’ll be getting the notice for detention in nine minutes.”
“Oh by the way...” Lucas started. I turned my head to him while Yiung and Mina still had their heads down, but their ears wide open. “I got some tea on Haechan.” A big mischievous smirk crept up his face, giggling ever so softly. I tilted my head and widened my eyes. Could this be related to what happened this morning? “Spill.” I said in a firm tone. Lucas nodded, leaning in close to me as his shoulders raised up till his ears. “I heard that this morning Haechan was seen with the principal in his office. I’m not sure what it’s about, but it must be serious since no one’s talking about Haechan today.” 
Mina gasped loudly and lifted her head up from her worksheet. She pointed her pen to Lucas and nodded her head vigorously with affirmation. “You’re right! The fact that no one had talked about Haechan today weirded me out so much! What I’m most shocked about is that no girls had even approached him today.” Mina whispered, joining in on the conversation as well and leaving her incomplete homework. 
I furrowed my eyes. That was indeed weird, and very out of the ordinary. I would always see girls gathered outside of Haechan’s classroom, waiting desperately for him to walk out and chasing him to shower him with gifts and presents. Most girls used that chaotic situation to confess to him, knowing very well that the answer from him would be a flat out “No.” I still don’t know why they even bother despite knowing the outcome. It’s as if every girl in this school has fallen under some kind of spell that make them act like vampires wanting to suck the life out of the unbothered Haechan. It’s ridiculous and immensely dumb. Explains why I don’t have that any other girl friends than Yiung and Mina. 
“Is it weird that I want to know what’s going on with him?” I questioned awkwardly. Lucas shrugged. “I guess that’s just your journalist side of you showing.” He simply replied. “Why did you quit writing the school’s newspaper when you are still going to write books? It’s the same thing.” I let out a disappointing sigh. “What you write about is different, Mina. How many times do I have to explain it to you guys.”
Suddenly the cafeteria that was loud and rowdy seconds ago has been put to silence instantly. All of us turned our head to the doors. It swung open, revealing the Dream. The school’s normal reaction would be to swoon over each one of them and having a fangirl session as they across their area. As cliché as that sounds, it is what usually happens. However, as expected due to the new information I acquired from Lucas, no one gave a single reaction to them, Instead, their eyes followed them warily with each step they took. They were quick to grab their food and leave. If the pin drop silence wasn’t enough, the atmosphere changed completely too. It was cold and deadly, as if a serial killer who  kept us hostage just came waltzing in. 
The moment they left, whispers and murmurs filled the room. The four of us looked back at each other, exchanging unrecognizable looks. “That was...”
“Interesting.”
After lunch, I was notified to head to the detention room once I ended school. I found it unexplainable. I screamed at the teacher and basically called him useless and this is what I get? Just detention? I mean I’m glad I didn’t have to do anything more, but I also thought about just how poorly this school manages its students, settling every problem with clearing up detentions hours. Any student could walk in with an empty mind and come out the exact same. It made no difference. 
I stepped in, only one teacher I was unfamiliar with sat at the teacher’s desk. I assumed she was only here for detention since I’ve never seen her around before. And because this was my first time in detention. She didn’t bother looking at me and instantly jerked her head to the tables, urging me to sit. I raised a brow. What else was I going to do?
I picked a seat, fully out of random. “Uh excuse me?” I asked, trying to sound polite as I pulling my chair in. The teacher looked up at me, her eyes narrowed with her eyes furrowed. “What?” She asked back with a rude tone. I arched one of my eyebrows in a questioning look. “Can I use my laptop?” 
“Do whatever you want.” 
I breathed a quiet laugh and nodded my head. “Well that was easy.” I whispered to myself. I took my laptop out of my bag and turned it on after placing it on the table. While waiting for it to start up and keying in my password, the door opened. I simply thought it was just another student who had detention. However, I could already tell from how their footsteps sounded that it wasn’t just any student. 
“Haechan. Nice seeing you here.” I looked up from the keyboard. I noticed how the woman flashed a bright smile as Haechan bowed his head slightly and making his way over to the tables. “I’m only here for an hour, right?” He asked, as if I wasn’t sitting in between their conversation. The woman hummed happily. “Yes, of course. It’s what I can do to repay you for your hard work.”
Haehan chuckled. “I’m glad.” He decided to take the seat next to mine, placing his bag on the chair and sitting down. He then turned to me, having a wide smile till his eyes formed a thin line. “Nice seeing you here. Care telling me how you ended up here?” Haechan questioned me in a playful manner. I took my eyes off him and to my screen, proceeding to head to Google Docs are per usual. I heard Haechan let out an exasperated sigh. “Nice meeting you too.” He muttered. 
Only a few minutes of silence have passed and the woman has already left the room since she had “personal matters.” to attend to, which left the room completely unattended and unsupervised. I assumed that she wouldn’t be coming back either. While I was thinking of how to continue my writing, I looked over to Haechan, who’s taking out a very large and full pencil case along with a stack of paper that had a very small grid. It looked like one of those papers that neat girls used for their notes to make it look aesthetic. 
He proceeded to open his pencil case and fished out for something. It was a felt tip pen. Or a calligraphy pen. I couldn’t exactly tell. He leaned forward and started writing on the paper. Seconds later, he took out a textbook from his bag. I noticed it was the History textbook.
“What are you doing?” I asked, suddenly getting curious the moment he took out the History textbook. He raised both his eyebrows, staring at me for a moment before lifting the textbook up slightly. “Making notes.” He replied very simply. I peeked over at his table, his other notes were scattered around. I was indeed impressed. “They’re... pretty.” I complimented awkwardly. Haechan chuckled. “Want to buy one?”
“Excuse me?”
“Eight dollars per paper. But the cost vary depending on the topic and subject.”
“What the hell are you saying?”
Haechan turned his body to have me, his arm resting on the back of his chair as he gave me an unimpressed expression. “I’m selling you my notes. What else?” He asked dryly, rolling his eyes and paying his attention back down to his notes. I blinked my eyes twice, trailing them from the notes and back to Haechan. What was he even doing? “You sell your notes...?” I asked softly. Haechan nodded firmly. “Indeed, I do.” 
“So do you want one or not?” “No.” I replied quickly, turning back to the front to focus on my writing.
Nothing else could be heard other than the typing of my keyboard, Haechan dropping his many pens on the table constantly as he switched between them every second and Haechan tapping his feet to unrecognizable beats as he listened to music on his Airpods. As I continued on with my writing, I realised that I’ve come to the part where the character had to know the truth about what actually happened, or in this reality, what actually happened to Haechan.
I looked over to him, he was flipping through another textbook now, getting ready to write another set of notes. I reached out, poking him on his shoulder with my index finger. He raised both his brows and took off one side of his Airpods. “Hm?” He asked questionably. “I have to know why you’re here.”
“You mean what got me into detention?” I nodded my head. Haechan took in a deep breath, letting a loud and lazy sigh escape his lips. “Everyone’s curious about that. Not just you. What right do you have to gain special access to know the truth?” I brought my head back, my mouth gaping slightly as my face went blank. That was true. I had no right. Everyone was curious about it too. It may not be seen in the hallways, especially when Haechan walks by. But rumors have been spreading behind closed doors. 
“People are talking about you.” Haechan scoffed, leaning back into his chair. “Of course they are. It’s an everyday thing.” I furrowed my brows, surprised at just how delusional he was being. “I meant that people are spreading rumors about you. I get that you’re the it-boy of school or whatever you’d call it. But I don’t think you realise that your reputation is slowly going down the drain.”
I paused for a moment, tilting my head a few angles down as a small smile, which later grew into a more satisfied one as I slowly watched Haechan being thrown off guard by my words. “I also happened to hear you talking with that security guard about the classroom keys.” I was now smirking, my eyes never leaving his. “It’s not even a big deal.” I huffed loudly. “Must be if the principal’s involved.”
Haechan glanced at the door, he was suddenly acting cautious and wary, as if someone would jump out to get him if he didn’t keep his eyes on the door. “They found out that I got stole a spare of classroom keys.” Haechan blurted out. I puckered my lips and nodded, bringing my hands back to the keyboard to record his words. “What the fuck? Are you some reporter?”
“No but I need to type this down. Could say it’s a habit. I used to write the school’s newspaper afterall.” Haechan arched a brow. “So you’re planning to tell this to the newspaper team?” I gave a half-shrug, shaking my head. “I quit two months ago. I thought you knew. It was in the newspaper.”
“I don’t read them.”
“Because you’re sick of seeing your face in it every week?”
“Could say that again.” I chuckled lightly. “I just need it for inspiration on a story I’m writing. Anyways, continue.” Haechan gave me a skeptical look, eyeing me up and down with suspicion before pinching his temples. “I didn’t exactly stole them. I made them.” His words made me widened my eyes. “H-How?” I stuttered, purely curious and somewhat amazed at the same time. 
“Chenle brought a 3D printer once. It could copy and make the exact replica of anything. I simply used it to make a spare key just so I can come here whenever I wanted to.” Haechan inhaled quietly. “But they also found out I used that method to gain access to other things... That’s as far as I want say.” For some reason, instead of freaking out, I sat there in silence, staring at him as I couldn’t move an inch. I didn’t know how to react. “That’s... Wow.” No matter how hard I tried to find words to say, those were the only two that came to mind. 
“If you use it for other things, why aren’t you getting a more severe punishment? We’re literally just serving detention hours when I thought I’d be doing community service for talking shit about Mister Low.” Haechan chuckled lowly, running a hand through his soft-looking hair. “You nit not worry about that.”
“What do you mean?” I whispered. “Mister Low is about to get fired since the other students in our History class are complaining to other teachers about how you’re right and that he really couldn’t teach. Word gets around in the teachers’ office and so.” Haechan bobbed his shoulders, not needing to complete to full sentence as I already got the memo. “And I have my own ways for settling my problems.” He was saying the same thing he said to the security guard that morning. “How, exactly?”
“The world is tipped in favour of the rich and powerful. Don’t you think?” Haechan smirked widely along with a giggle. “You use money to get what you-” 
“Calm down. I was just joking. I wanted to make your story more interesting.” Haechan laughed. He began packing his things up, slinging his bag on one shoulder. “My time here is up so ciao.” Haechan said in an instant, as if wanting to get away as fast as possible while trying to look casual. He walked away, lifting a hand up and waving it while using the other to open the door and left. The room was met with utter silence. “What the hell just happened?”
For the rest of the day I couldn’t help but wonder if his words were true. What else could he have done with 3D printer? What if it was something more than just replicating classroom keys? He said it was just to help with my writing, but what if it was actually true?
I never got Haechan out of my mind as I took reference from the points I’ve taken down while he talked to me for my writing. It helped, nonetheless. I had a flow of a proper plot. However, I was not fully satisfied with it. The way Haechan structured his words were weird, the possibility that there’s more to it got glued to my mind and was the main topic of my thoughts every day. 
One afternoon, I chose to stay back at the library to do my assignments. I had the sudden motivation to be productive at school. While making my way there, I passed by a dark corner. I stopped in my tracks and walked back, as for a split second I thought I had seen a shadow of some sort. Indeed, I was right. Two people were standing there to be exact. I was all too familiar with one of their figures, noticing that it was Haechan. The other I assumed to be a regular student. They stood at the furthest end of the dark hallway. Anyone could have walked past and not realise anything. I hid myself behind the wall, my head peeking out just a little that only my eyes could be seen. 
“I need more.” I heard the student beg. Haechan folded his arms, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “Can’t do. You’re lucky you bought my notes. It should be enough for the test.” Haechan whispered, leaning in towards him. The student looked down at the plastic bag, eyes staring at it for a moment before slowly trailing them up to meet Haechan’s. The student let out a defeated sigh, holding the bag up in front of him. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He bid Haechan goodbye, shoving one hand into his pocket while letting the bag hang on the index finger of his other hand that fell down to his side. With a leaned back posture, he slowly made his way out of the hallways. With quick and brisk steps, I speed walked forward, turning a corner and hiding there till he walked past. 
I decided to stay there, cautious as to whether Haechan was about to walk past as well. However, I heard his footsteps, but they weren’t coming to my direction. I peeked my head out of the corner once again, this time a little further with confidence of him not coming my way. Haechan was walking towards the opposite direction. I wasn’t sure what drew me into doing so, but I decided to follow him. Where I ended up was seemingly unexpected. 
I was steps away from the door. Tilting my head upwards, I was met with the sign above the door. Music room. I’ve only been here once, to interview the student that was about to perform solo for a concert we had last year to showcase the performing art curriculum. I slowly made my way to the door, the window giving me a clear view of the room. I looked in, seeing Haechan sitting  by the piano. His fingers hovered above the keys, just like how mine would float above the keyboard when I had no idea what letter to press. I couldn’t see his face due to his hair that covered till his eyes. 
Either way, I gulped and placed my hand on the handle, pushing it down and going in while clearing my throat. Haechan shot his head up from the piano and to me with a blank expression. I quickly closed the door behind me and awkwardly placed the hand behind my head. “Hey. It’s our second time meeting.” Haechan greeted, letting his forearm rest on edge of the fall board, leaning his upper body. I hummed as I slowly sidled my way up to him. “It is.” I simply said.
“So why are you here? Did you follow me?” Haechan asked, tone filled to the brim with suspicion as he squinted his eyes on me. I opened my mouth, but words couldn’t come out. I wasn’t able to speak as I tried to come up with an excuse. “I- Uh was headed to the library when I walked past and saw you in here.” 
“So? You have no reason to want to come in here.” Haechan replied dryly. I mentally rolled my eyes. I felt as if I couldn’t keep up a conversation with him without wanting to burst due to his rudeness. He had no reason to be this cold towards me. Does he always have to be like this?
“The libraries in the opposite block. Our classrooms aren’t even here.” Haechan breathed out, eyes scanning across the keys of the piano before shooting up to me. “What’s your actual reason coming here?” Haechan’s voice grew lower with each word till it became a faint whisper. His eyes were piercing into me deadly, as if I was meeting the grim reaper that’s about to take my soul. Once again I tried to speak but I couldn’t. Even if I did, I would be slurring through my words as I didn’t know myself why I chose to follow him here. 
“I... I want to know more about you.” I blurted out. I wanted to give myself a smack in the head. I sounded too weird, like a stalker. I had millions of other ways to phrase that but I chose to be too straightforward. Haechan jerked his head, hissing when he puffed his chest up as he inhaled. “Do you like me?”
“What? No. Why would you even-” “You wouldn’t have followed me all the way here if you weren’t interested. This is the first time I’ve seen you having the urge to talk to me.” Haechan cocked an eyebrow in my direction, to which I responded with a loud huff of amusement. “My intention was to know what else you are doing with that 3D printer of yours for my story.” I stated, matter-of-factly. I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. 
“You’re a writer. Aren’t you suppose to be creative?” I took a deep breath. Breathe, just breathe. I was actually about to explode like a volcano that was about to erupt at any second. Why did he have to be so hard to talk to? On instinct, I slammed my hand on the keyboard, the loud sound coming from the keys I pressed down pierced through my eardrums. “Listen. It’s getting really fucking annoying to talk to you. Answer my questions, and I won’t needing to see you again.” 
Haechan had zero reaction to my words. It’s like he had a bullet proof screen in between us as I fired my words in anger. “Incorrect. We have another session of detention on Wednesday. Three hours to clear, and it’s just the two of us. Sounds fun, don’t you think?” My blood was boiling. With each second that passed, I bit my lower lip as I tried hard to not slap his face. “I highly doubt you’ll be a good enough student to attend anyways. Besides the damn point, just tell me what you’ve been doing with the printer.”
“You know some things should be kept private. Like I said before, you have no right to force it out of me.”
“But you were willing and gave me some information at that time.” I could tell in Haechan’s eyes that he was taken off guard, but he was able to skillfully bounced back. “Because I was kind enough to wanna help you with your writing.” At this point, we were constantly firing words at each in a matter of seconds. It was like a war zone, keeping our eye contact and never breaking it once, our voices growing higher with each comeback. 
“You know what? Fuck it. I’ll find out myself. Since you’re unwilling to tell me anything at all, it must mean that you have something going on. I’ve already been suspicious of you from the start.” I stormed my way to the door. Forcefully grabbing onto the handle, I turned around sharply as I muttered a “Watch out.” before walking out and slamming the door shut. I needed to put the story on hold. I won’t give up till I find out what Haechan’s onto. I had to know, I just had to. To satisfy myself with solving a mystery that I unconsciously got myself into. 
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The very next day, I chose to get to school earlier than I normally would. If I wanted to discover what Haechan was doing, I had to be ahead of him. This was just the start.
When I reached my classroom, I looked down the hallway., my eyes slowly looking up to the sign of Haechan’s class and back down. Absentmindedly, I took small and wary steps, walking up to his class. I glued myself to the walls when I got there. My mind slowly began to wonder why was I even digging deeper into this trivial matter that wasn’t even any of business. Perhaps it was due to me  not being able to complete the story myself, losing all my creativity in one go and I have yet to know why. Or was it perhaps because I was curious as to who Haechan was? I’ve only see Haechan as someone perfect to the eyes of society. It was only natural for him to not be perfect behind the shadows. Perhaps I wanted to know that he was human as well.
I peeked my head ever so slightly, just a few centimeters. I was quite shocked to see Haechan there, sitting at the back of the class. Just how early does this guy come to school? And for what? I saw another unfamiliar person stood next to him, hand on the edge of the table as he leaned forward. What I found to be the most weird and out of the ordinary was the fact that there was some kind of light being illuminated on the table. Due to the guy who was standing up, I couldn’t tell where the light came from. The dark classroom made this look a hundred time more eerie than I expected it to be. 
“We need to do this quick.” I heard Haechan’s mutter. He was attempting to keep his voice down. He looked extremely cautious ad he kept looking out the window. I had to pull my head away and rely on my ears for information. He was too skeptical of his surroundings. “Chill. It’ll be done in ten minutes. You know how fast this baby works. When are you going to do it?” The other male spoke in a normal voice, which make Haechan groan and let out a loud “Shh.”
“Keep your fucking voice down. No one should be hearing about this. Especially her.” I heard the male scoff. “Ah that girl...” Was the last I’ve heard. I slowly peeked my head out once again. “Maybe after detention on Wednesday. I don’t know.”
“Well you better be quick.”
They were both looking at whatever was on the table. It was dark but the light coming form it didn’t help me recognise it at all. From what I could infer, it was probably a machine of some sorr, from the way the other male called it “baby”. Was it the 3D printer? I had no solid evidence that it was. What was Haechan going to do? I was indeed clueless. But was Haechan referring to me?
Throughout the school day, I had my eyes on Haechan the whole time, watching his every move. Where he went, what he did, who he talked to. I was all eyes and ears on him. He didn’t seem to be doing anything weird. And the school was back to normal too. Girls were back to screaming his name wherever he showed up, he was back to being the all-rounder student he was. I still doubt he was an all-rounder at all. Maybe a deformed one. A deformed all-rounder. Well, that was new.
“Sorry guys but I have to stay a little while to spy on Haechan. Head home without me.” I said to the gang as we walked down the hall, on our way to the main gates. Lucas stopped, making Yiung and Mina do the same. “If you get more information, you should tell it to the school’s press. Who knows? Your story on Haechan could be a hit.”
I thought about it for a second. And for awhile I was starting to consider. I could simply put the author and Haechan as anonymous. It’ll send the school to an uproar, desperately wanting to know the identities of the people involved. On top of that, I missed the feeling of investigating and trying to gather information. It was something I did often as a writer for the newspaper. It felt good to have that surge of constant curiosity as more factors come to play the more you find out, and more questions that had to be solved slither out.
“I actually might consider it.” I said, the side of my lip rising just a little. I sent them off to the main gate and waved them goodbye. One thing I instantly realised was that I completely missed Haechan. I forgot to keep track of him and now I didn’t know where he was. I groaned silently as headed back in school. The first place I checked was his classroom. Of course he wasn’t there. Lights turned off, door and windows locked. Not a single person on sight.
The next place I checked was the music room. Lord and behold, he was there. Again sitting by the piano. This time, he was scribbling onto what I assumed was a music sheet. He was doing it in a rather furious matter, which got me worried for second. Suddenly, Haechan threw the pencil on the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs and slamming his head on the piano. Out of pure shock and instinct, I opened the door and ran up to him.
“Are you okay?! Why the hell you do that?!” I sat down the the empty space beside him and held onto his cheeks to lif his face up. His eyes fluttered open slowly, my hands feeling the warmth of his cheeks. “And what are you doing here again?” He said in a tired and hoarse voice. His eyes trailed downwards to my hands. For some reason, I didn’t let go. My hands were still against his skin which felt extremely soft. Something about this made my heart skip a beat. Why was I feeling this way? That for a split second my hands cupped his face perfectly, like were meant to be there.
“Having fun keeping your hands there?” Haechan broke me out of my thoughts with his words. I quickly pulled away, rubbing my palms on my shirt awkwardly. “You seem to always show up and meeting me here.” I gulped, avoiding eye contact as I tried to look everywhere else but him. “You seemed to be stress.” I said, making a poor attempt at changing the topic. I could tell from his soft and short breath of laughter that he knew what I was doing, but decided to go along with it mumbling a, “Yeah. I was.”
“With what?” Haechan didn’t give an answer. He blankly stared down to his lap before smacking his lips and jerking his head up to the music sheet thatw as propped up. “Just like how you write stories. I write songs. And just like you, my brain does not want to function at all to come up with something.” Haechan sighed ever so softly.
Silence settled in the space between us. We were simply there, not a word exchanged as I let his sink in. Were we the same? Though I find that hard to believe, I felt it. His struggle. I could feel it from outside the room moments ago. Haechan slowly brought his fingers up to the piano. Starting to press a key, he began to play.
Though I wasn’t a piano player or an expert in any way, it didn’t take me long to realise that he wasn’t comfortable sitting on this very piano, like how his fingers weren’t meant to make contact with the surface of the white, lagging and messing up a few notes that made whatever he played sound improper. He was out of place. Yet, the produced a beautiful twenty or so seconds of music. Despite the slip-ups, it sounded amazing. But he wasn’t playing with feeling. He was emotionless, stagnant.
“That’s all I have.” Haechan chuckled weakly. I frowned. “It sounded fine.” I whispered softly, eyes not leaving his fingers that rest itself on the keys. “Fine, but not great. Not meaningful. I didn’t feel anything while playing that. And that’s the worst part of it.” Haechan was biting his lower lip. His eyes were being welled up with tears. He quickly wiped them away.
“Don’t cry. I’m not the type that knows how to comfort people.” I laughed softly, trying to joke around to lighten the mood. Haechan responded with a small laugh, making me smile with sincerity. “It’s fine.” He simply said.
“I get what you mean. I’ve been feeling that too. Got the general idea but never know where to go from there. The creativity’s run out and I’m left with nothing. I’ve lost the urge to do what I love most.” I fiddled with my fingers on my lap, head tilted down. The room got quiet instantly. We were just sitting there in silence, deep in thought as we let ourselves sink into our complicated yet somehow similar situations.
How did I even up here? Sitting down and having a deep conversation with Haechan. Why was I feeling the connection with him? The connection of similarity as we felt each other’s pain. How did it only take one observation of Hechan playing for me to see the emptiness and hole that dug around him? I came here wanting to know his hidden secrets, digging into his weird behaviour beyond the light that he always stood in. But I guess there were aspects of him that were more hidden, and he chose to show this side to me.
It’s funny how we opened up to each other, not knowing each other at all. We were practically strangers. People that we only see as we walked by very occasionally. We weren’t someone that would be engraved in our minds the moment we saw each other. But it probably gave us a sense of escape, thinking that it was better for us to open up to someone who barely knew us so they wouldn’t judge who we were. I guess that was more coherent for Haechan.
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Our class was the first few to arrive at the cafeteria since our English teacher is one of the very few that releases us on time. I decided not to have lunch since I didn’t feel like eating. Or maybe I was but too lazy to get any food. Only a few hours of school have passed and I was already walking like a dying corpse on my way here. I looked down and used my phone, continuing the read the online book I just purchased recently.
Suddenly, a bunch of high pitched wailing and shouting was heard. I tilted my head up and followed the noise. I expected it. Haechan, walking into the cafeteria, confident as ever, owning it all. He had such a bright smile. It’s as if the deep and lost Haechan I saw just yesterday disappeared entirely, a simple ‘poof’ and it’s gone by the wind. He waved to his other friends at the table which was just a few tables apart of ours with excitement, walking with long strides. I couldn’t believe just how thick Haechan’s mask was. After seeing him yesterday, I couldn’t help but wonder so long how those two completely different sides of him become one in his being. It was hard to picture. It was such a drastic difference that it became too hard to visualise it in my head.
“Look at Jaemin being all flirty with her.” Mina came up from behind and gagged as she jerked her chin to the direction I was looking at. However, I adverted my focus from Haechan to Jaemin. A girl was standing very closely behind Jaemin, occasionally trailing her fingers in a teasing manner down his shoulders. Jaemin bobbed his shoulders, shooting a glare that luckily she didn’t notice. However, he turned around and quickly flashed a soft smile to cover up his annoyance towards her. His action made me laugh and chuckle softly. “I don’t think he’s enjoying it.”
“Just how can he look so normal after what he did? I still can’t believe it.”
“What are you talking about?”
I grew silent, not wanting to explain the situation I had with Jaemin. It was a far distant memory which should be kept out of my mind and away from me, something I wouldn’t have the courage to face. I was over it, but I’d never want to encounter it again. It’ll send me down the loophole again, and that is something I’d much prefer not to remember and go through again.
Lucas raised a brow. “Hello?” He asked, trying to get our attention. Mina cleared her throat after swallowing her bite of food. “Ah you weren’t here when it happened. It’s fine. We shouldn’t be talking about it.”
“It’s a story for another time.” I lied, blurting it out.
I looked down to my phone once again as the our table grew quiet and ate in peace. As if thrown an asteroid was thrown from space, an object went flying to the side of my head, hitting it hard. It didn’t hurt that much, but it was so sudden that I couldn’t help but wince from the attack. “What the hell was that?!” I half-shouted, my brows furrowed with confusion, scrunching up my face as I picked up the object that landed beside me.
Everyone had their heads up and towards me with looks of concern. “Are you okay?! What hit you?” Yiung brought her hand up to caress my head softly where it hit. I brought the object up to my face. “Pack of grapes...?” I whispered, blinking my eyes rapidly. I scanned my eyes around the area near me, wanting to know who threw it at me. Oddly enough, Haechan had his head poking out from the table. He was looking at me, and urging me to look at the grapes. I shot him a weird look and trailed my eyes down to the grapes. It had a note.
“Why aren’t you eating? You still have detention later. See you soon.” I read the small note that was taped to the plastic wrapper to myself, mumbling. I lifted my head up to Haechan, noticing that he was already back to talking to his friends happily, laughing away. “Who threw you that?” Mina asked. I stared at the note for a moment, reading over his words and imagining his voice. I shake my head and looked back to Mina. “Must be a secret admirer.” I joked. They didn’t have a big reaction to this and continued with what they were doing with a shrug. I didn’t want them to know that I was getting close to Haechan.
Either way, getting free snacks was always a bonus. I didn’t hesistate to open the wrapper and plopped a grape into my mouth. Throughout the rest of lunch while shoving a grape into my mouth immediately each time I swallowed one, my eyes were glued to Haechan. Though he wasn’t fully visible due to his other friends crowding around him, it was as if he’s the only one in my view, with everyone else fading away.
I hadn’t forgotten my agenda. I still had to know more about Haechan’s secret that was about to unfold after I remembered that he was going to do something after detention later. If it’s going go help me write my story, I’d want to know as much as possible.
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I made my way to the detention room, lazily opening the door. Haechan was seating somewhere near the back, deeply concentrated with writing something and wearing his Airpods. I looked over to the woman who laid back in her seat as she played with her phone. I nodded my head as I took in the situation, walking up to sit beside Haechan.
“What are you doing?” I asked Haechan while sliding the straps of my bag off my shoulders and putting it on my lap, only to find Haechan not hearing me at all as he continuously nodded his head to whatever song he was playing. I reached out to poke him on the shoulder with my index finger, making him flinch at the sudden action and removing one side of his Airpods immediately. He leaned back as he realised that he was looking at me. “Oh you’re here.” Haechan smiled softly, proceeding to continue writing. I moved my head a little to notice that he was writing notes again.
“Selling more notes? What are you, an illegal business?” Haechan responsed with a chuckle, placing his pen down and facing his body to me. “Perhaps I am. It’s not like I can get caught though.” He shrugged and placed a fist to his cheek, resting his head against it and leaning sideways. “But what did you get caught for?” I copied his posture, sending him a cheeky smile.
Haechan scoffed and shake his head. “Can’t say. How many times do I need to drum it in your head?” Haechan threw a sharp glare my way, exasperated. “If you don’t tell me, at least help me with my story.” I said, unintentionally sounding desperate as a slight tone of begging shined through my words.
“You really have lost your creative touch, huh?” Haechan faked his amusement. He already knew that from the time we were in the music room. “And you can’t write your songs either. So you’ve lost it as well.” I smiled grew bigger and more mischievous, giggling ever so softly. “If you want, maybe you can use the 3D printer to print a world of your imagination. And when you finish making it, it becomes a real place for you to go and release yourself from reality.” Affer unlocking my laptop and waiting for it to start up, I looked to him after he said that, but his eyes and hands were concentrated on making his notes.
“Is it because that’s what you want to do?” I asked softly, opening up Google Docs and seeing my long paragraphs of nothingness. It meant nothing. They were simply words to be displayed on the screen. I read it over while I waited for Haechan’s answer. It was bland, nothing like the ones that I wrote with much enthusiasm and drive. It disappointed me how I could stoop this low to such a level, to the point where I was slowly loosing interest in what kept up my sanity all these years.
“Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that?” Haechan stared into my eyes, pausing for a moment. “It’s your book that you’re writing. You need to make it personal somehow. You can’t always be relying on me as your direct source of idea.” I thought about it, long and hard, his words resonating in my head again and again as I tried to force myself to think deeper. “What if I can’t make it personal? What if I don’t know what’s personal to me, I don’t know who I am...” My two fingers played with the touch pad of my laptop, scrolling up and down mindlessly.
“Use my idea as inspiration. What can happen when you build and enter that fantasy world made by a 3D printer?”
“The entrance collapses and I get trapped there forever.” Haechan smiled. It was a small, almost transparent, but sincere smile, painted on his face. “There you go. You have a conflict to write about now.” I instantly typed down the information in point form so that I could elaborate on it. As much as I got the energy and adrenaline to start writing now, I wanted to focus on another matter. For some reason, I just wanted to know.
“How’s your song doing?” He avoided my eyes, licking his lips, seeming to be deep in thought, trying to construct a sentence. “I’m thinking of abandoning it to be honest.” Haechan said in a nonchalant manner. He can’t actually not be bothered by it. I saw it. His frustration, stress, the negative energy that centered around him in the music too. He can’t actually want to do that.
“But it sounded good.”
“I just need a fresh start. Who knows, I might come up with something better... Hopefully.” He dragged on the last part slightly, the tint of of doubt flowed through his unstable voice. He sighed loudly, pressing his fingers on both sides of his temples. “I’d ask for your help, but I’m guessing you aren’t exactly creative in this art form.” I nodded my head agreeably, though I felt the embarrassment.
“We’re going to be stuck here for a long time.” I said with a bored sigh, dragging on the word ‘long’ for emphasis. Haechan laughed at my statement. “I don’t think we’d have to stay here long.” I turned my head to him, an eyebrow arched. “Why’s that?”
Haechan pulled his chair close to mine and leaned in, close to my face. “We’ll get to go out once something to do. Which is what happens every day.”
Though I was listening, I couldn’t help but notice just how close Haechan was to my face. Too close, than a normal person would when wanting to whisper something. My heart began to race and my breath hitched in my throat. I looked at his eyes, ones that had so much emotions and feelings that can never be expressed, helplessly trapped, then to this nose, and finally his lips, soft and lushes, one that’s disconnected to his brain, inability to say what he thinks and needing to think twice to protect his reputation. Yet, it was all perfectly structured, carefully and beautifully, no matter how much he might be going through. I never realised how good looking he was till now. And it felt like a huge crime seeing it now.
“Are you hearing me?” Haechan whispered. I lifted my gaze from his lips and back up to his eyes. But it was now he who had his eyes down. I followed them, and they were on my lips. “Y-Yeah. I was.” Haechan instantly pulled away after a moment, chuckling awkwardly or shyly as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t get the use of detention. It’s not going to change us, no matter how long we stay here for.”
“This school really doesn’t manage us properly yet our reputation is still high on the list.”
“Maybe it’s because of you and your friends.” I said, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “Is a school’s reputation depended heavily on the looks of students?” Haechan scoffed, huffing as he ran a hand through his hair. “That’s shallow.”
“It’s the world we live in.” I simply stated.
“Oh, she left.” Haechan turned his head, and I followed along. The woman have left the room. I was shocked at the fact that we didn’t even notice. Haechan and I turned our heads to each other in unison, laughing. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves.”
Though you would think that we’d be going crazy and having a party of two while blasting music through the room’s speakers, the room was quiet. Haechan was silently listening to music while doing his notes and I typed away on my laptop, the satisfaction of the sound being produced at a fast rate. I wore my headphones too. I jumped and turned when I felt a tap on my arm.
“Hm?” I asked, taking off one side. “Should we just go?”
I paused for a moment with hesitation and contemplation, but it didn’t take long for me to blurt out, “Let’s please do so.”
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We ended up going to the cafeteria. Haechan offered to buy me whatever snack I wanted. Was it bad to say that I am surprised at his generosity? It was weird in a way, I never thought of him as someone like he is now. If I could describe Haechan, he was like a book. One with a cover that was plain, unoriginal, stereotypical. You’d read the synopsis and think “The story plot is too expected.” But it’s not. The plot, characters and words change entirely, opening the reader to a whole new world that was definitely outside the box. And the more time I spent with Haechan, the more pages I flipped and read, new words and phrases pop up every which way. He slowly opened up, showing me that there was more to his all-rounded nature that he held. 
“Why are we here at the garden when we can go in the library? I’m desperate for the air condition.” I walked beside Haechan and pointed to the library just a few steps away from the small garden we were headed. Haechan skipped his way down the pathway to the one bench table that was surrounded by plants and flowers. 
“I like it here. Being surrounded by books can drive me insane.” I laughed at his comment, sitting down on the opposite end. I placed the snacks on the table, Haechan doing the same as we opened our snacks and took a bite in silence. “We should do this more often.” 
“Do what?”
“This. Impromptu hangouts. It’s... fun, refreshing.” Haechan whispered, looking up and sighing softly with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes, locking them with mine as I hummed in response, still chewing. “Refreshing.” I repeated back to myself, nodding my head. “Actually... I have an idea. A present, if you will.” I took out my notebook from my bag, flipping through a few pages till I reached the page where it had notes. I placed it on the table and pushed it forward. 
“In a way it’s a thank you gift. For helping me write again. You didn’t even say much but it made me think and turn my gears.” Haechan brought his head close to the notebook, his eyes scanning very slowly over each line. Haechan looked up, mouth opened but I decided to continue before he could say anything. 
“At first my words were meaningless. The story was leading to nowhere and I had no idea where I was going, no road, no guidance. But you unintentionally, but also intentionally later on gave me ideas. A shoulder I could lean on, something I could depend on. I don’t think I have the need to dive in deeper into whatever shit you’re doing. I’ll respect the fact that you don’t want to share.”
“These are song lyrics...” Haechan whispered, holding to the edge of the page with his index and middle finger. He was completely silent and frozen, as if my words had hit him right in the heart like an arrow. “They’re... so me.” He said simply, a short chuckle leaving his lips. 
“I noticed a few things about you. One, you really aren’t like what you seem to be. Living the perfect life with friends, grades, popularity. Everyone would think you had it all. I, however, started viewing you from a different angle, a new perspective. I didn’t even have to know what you hide to know that you’re transparent.”
“It shocked me, really. It sounds cliché, I know. But you are the one that has a cliché life.” Haechan and I laughed. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to. It’s a trade. You to me, and me to you.” Haechan’s eyes lifted off the paper. We didn’t say a word. Instead, we let our eyes do the talking, the most bare and deepest sense on our expression. “Eyes are the gateway to your soul.” I really felt it. He was stripping me bare with his stare. Nothing was left to hide between us. And this all happened in the span of just a few weeks. 
Time flew by in a blur. The thought of Haechan’s mystery that I delved so deep into became a distant memory. I never really got to know the truth. Maybe I was being too skeptical about it and perhaps it was just a simple matter that Haechan could not share. We went along with the pact of going on impromptu outings. One of us would text the other during the last period and go out immediately after school just to hang out and have each other’s presence to admire. We’d never talk in school. We wouldn’t greet each other if we walked by in the hallways. Our lives were completely separated in the school’s setting, as if we’ve never made a single contact, like our lives had never crossed paths. In simple words, strangers. 
Today’s outing was at a cafe. We decided that this week, we’d travel around the city and go cafe hopping, visiting a new cafe and try out places we have never went to. I was utterly shocked when I found out that Haechan had never visited the cafe that I was extremely obsessed with. Despite the place being on the other end of town, the drinks and desserts are worth the trip.
“What would you recommend?” Haechan asked, the two of us looking at the menu above the counter while we sat down on the table. “I love their red velvet cheesecake. Oh! And caramel frappé.” I said with a happy giggle, tapping my feet in excitement as I already envision the delicious dessert on the table in front of me.
“You love cheesecakes that much?” Haechan gave an amused laugh. I nodded with a gleeful hum. “It’s my all time favourite dessert!” Haechan glanced down and shook his head, a smile shying through. “Get something else while I try the cheesecake. We need the variety.” Haechan pressed his fingers together as if pinching something, puckering his lips as he mimicked the popular meme. I bursted out laughing at his weird act. “Alright, alright. I’ll get the chocolate soufflé.”
I brought out my wallet from my pocket. Before I could even slide a note out, Haechan gripped my wrist and closed my wallet shut. He didn’t need to say a word, holding up his own wallet and jerking his head to it before turning around to walk away. I sighed, a slight frown forming on my lips. He’s always been paying. It always made me feel bad. I’d be at the edge on loosing all my money yet I’d still have that urge to pay.
Haechan was waiting by the counter for the food. He turned around. I abruptly locked my eyes with his, absentmindedly not realising that I had my eyes on his back the whole time. Haechan threw me weird and goofy faces to my way, quietly laughing while his shoulders bobbed. I shook my head, once again getting second hand embarrassment. Though it wasn’t a bad thing at all. It brought me joy from his weirdness and humour.
Minutes later he came back, carrying two plates and going back to grab the drinks. He sat down after and clapped his hand once, looking down at the food as his mouth shaped an ‘O’ at the sight.
We ate, chat and laughed. There wasn’t a moment of silence. Our conversation flowed as smoothly as the waves on a peaceful day at the seashores. We’d be able to change topics so quickly that we didn’t even know how we ended up talking about roller coasters at amusement parks.
“Should we go anywhere else?” I questioned. Haechan raised both his brows and leaned forward. “Anything you want.”
The two of us looked up at the sky, painted with shades and tones from red to yellow and hints of purple shining through. The beautiful sunset that we caught today was certainly lucky. It’s not everyday a sunset can look this incredible and perfect to the eye. It was one of those moments when you just needed to silently bask in the sight, embracing the comfort it brings you before the sun fully sets and the night starts to settle in.
I heard the sound of grass moving. I took my attention off the sky and to Haechan, who had his phone out and going to his camera. He snapped a picture, taking the time to position his phone and making sure it captured the whole scenery. He turned to me, a smile plastered on his face. “Moments like these should be permanent.”
I turned back to the sky, my chin lifted up and I took in a deep breath, eyes closed, taking in every ounce of calmness and relaxation. I suddenly heard the sound of Haechan’s phone, signalling that he took a picture. I fluttered my eyes open, looking over to Haechan who had his phone faced to me.
“You are something that should be permanent too.”
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As days inched closer and closer to exam week, Haechan and I started meeting less and less, which was to be expected. I was holed up in my room, getting on my study table immediately coming home after showering and having a light snack, not having a break till it was time to sleep.
The stress settled in, and I had to put off my writings. I wasn’t a genius who could multitask to such extremes. I’d eventually go insane. Though I already am with the amount of content I had to fit in my brain.
Knocking down one day at a time, exam after exam, we finally ended the week. It feels the same with every end of the year exams. You’re just stuck in that loop of studying and screwing your heads into textbook and notes. But once it’s all over, you go into complete shut down mode and your brain will grow rusty and not as functional and efficient over the holidays. And the cycle repeats once you start the new school year.
Funny enough, Haechan and I stopped going out together. You’d expect us to meet all the time due to the free time we’d have during the holidays. But for some reason we jusy didn’t contact each other. Maybe we were too concentrated with our studies that not having Haechan by my side became something neutral. I didn’t feel anything about it. It is what it is. We drifted apart, with no reason whatsoever.
I was laying down on my bed, thumb tapping on the screen at a fast rate as I skipped through everyone’s stories on Instagram. However, I immediately stopped when I got to Haechan’s stories. My thumb was pressed hard on the screen as I saw Haechan’s face. He was out with his friends, seemed to be like a party. I chuckled to myself in amusement.
Was Haechan just my dream? Just a short period of filled happiness that wouldn’t stay with me for long? Was he temporary? The moments I’ve spent with him flashed by me like a movie tape that lasted in a second. I overlooked at myself, my situation. I was helplessly staying at home. Being the homebody I am, I never really go out unless someone invited me to. Haechan’s out living his life, back to being the all-rounder, as if I’ve never been in his picture ever.
Months passed since school has started, and we never made contact since. We wouldn’t even smile to each other in the hallways. We were invisible to each other. We were back to simply being strangers. We were never in each other’s lives. We have never opened our hearts to each other. It felt like none of that happened, like none of it was even real.
The bridge made by Haechan that helped me to get back on track in my writing was still there, but the work he did to build it felt like nothing. Just like how no one remembers the fact that it was the workers that worked hard to build and construct the bridge. It just never came to mind anymore.
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I just got home. Making my way to my bedroom and tossing my bag at the study table, plopping onto my bed and sinking my body into the soft sheets. I turned around, back on the bed as I took out my phone. The first notification I saw was a text from Haechan.
I instantly sat up from my laying posture, eyes narrowing to his name showing up on my lockscreen. I had to unlock my phone to see the message. I was blankly staring at it. Why did I suddenly feel nervous? I opened my phone, which immediately brought me to iMessage.
Haechan: if you’re free, text me and head to the Winstar park
I tilted my head at this. I gulped, bringing my thumbs up to the screen. However, it was hovering over the key pad, not sure of what to type. I realised that I was being too cautious as if I needed to make a good impression through the text, when all I had to do was type a simple, “Sure. Meet you in an hour.” I exhaled sharply and got off my bed. I tossed my phone on the bed and started to get ready to head out.
While I stared out to the window on the bus, the city came to view. High skyscrapers, high end shops and buildings, bustling and busy as ever. But the bus drove past it. Immediately the scenery changed. It was quiet, not a lot of people to be seen. Only the sound of leaves and branches swaying in the calm wind.
Perhaps that’s why Haechan and I liked the park so much. The silence it held gave us a moment of distraction out of our lives filled with much complexity and complication. Our time together wasn’t energy draining. We had each other to thank for that, but it was also the absence of the fast moving pace of the world that gave us a time of rest, peace. Even if it was for a short period of time, the feeling is still there, though it’s being suppressed by other by our realities.
I came walking through the park’s entrance. My legs walked me to where Haechan and I used to sit when we last came here. I didn’t even have to think for my body to be drawn to him. His back came to view. He wore a black leather jacket and jeans. His brown hair glowing under the sunlight.
On one end, I felt the need to just run up and embrace him fully. It felt like a calling, a sudden need. However, I also felt hesitant to even take one step closer. What if we weren’t as close as we used to be? What if the Haechan I knew isn’t in front of my eyes right now? Anything can happen within the span of months. People change.
That dilemma and contemplation made me stand in my spot for far too long. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Haechan as my gears began to turn, more doubts floating up from the depths of my overthinking. What I didn’t notice till now was the fact that he had a guitar case beside him.
I shut my eyes for a moment, hands clenched tightly by my sides as my chest puffed up while taking a deep silent breath. Just do it.
I tapped Haechan on the shoulder lightly, making him jump and turn around. “You took forever.” He said, flashing a smile. At least that didn’t change. It still sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach like it did last time. It made my heart ache in the best ways possible.
One look in his eyes and a whole tsunami of our memories came crashing and attacking my mind and heart. It flashed through my eyes. Every little moment, though it may seem meaningless to some, was what made my whole relationship with Haechan gain its meaning.
“Sorry about that.” I simply said. He placed the guitar case on his lap, motioning with his free hand to take the empty space next to him. I sat down, the two of us met with comfortable silence for about a minute.
“How was your exams?” I asked, not being able to handle the fact that we weren’t talking. “Great. Except for Chemistry. I can never do it.” He chuckled, shaking his head while smiling to himself on the floor. “Could’ve asked me. I aced it.” I bragged, flipping my hair with much sarcasm which made him arch a brow. “I could have. But I didn’t want to bother you.”
“At that period of time, I wished you had bothered me.” I bit my bottom lip. His eyes narrowed down on me. “Really, now?”
Haechan’s phone suddenly dinged. He took it out of his pocket. With one glance he scoffed loudly and shoved it back in. I gave him a weird look. “Just another girl texting me. It’s the fifteenth this week. I’m lazy to delete their messages.” Haechan shrugged lightly.
“Anyways, I asked you to come here for a reason.”
“You never did anything without a reason.”
“But you do. Always showing up coincidentally at where I’m at.”
“That was last year. Stop talking about it.” I punched Haechan lightly on his arm as the two of us giggled in unison. I missed this. Why did I have anything to fear? It felt as if we’ve met up just yesterday.
“You’re going to be the first person who hear this. And for your information, you should be thankful. When an artist plays their song for the first person to hear, it means that they value them a lot.” Haechan whispered after his laughter died down. Slowly, he took out his guitar from its case. He placed it on his lap. It fits and settled right on his lap perfectly.
I pressed my hands on my thighs as I waited for him to adjust a few things on his guitar. Looking up, I noticed the shades of orange and yellow coming into view. The sunset, again, was just as beautiful as last time we were here. It really did feel like nothing has changed, as if that very day had repeated itself and teleported me to this very moment.
I heard Haechan strumming the guitar once, making me turn to him instantly. He took in a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment for looking down on the guitar and placing his fingers on the right strings.
He began to play. The strum pattern was simple yet calming. Then came in his voice. True enough, I’ve never heard him sing, ever. To hear his voice washing over me like a huge wave, I felt the goosebumps on my arms, my face tightened and my breathing stopped for a moment. His voice was beautiful. It’s one that you can listen while you fall asleep. The perfect lullaby.
I noticed how he sang the lyrics I made with very little knowledge of lyric writing, yet it still sounded as if it was made by him. He made those lyrics of mine his own with his voice. I smiled softly as we looked to each other, he sang his heart out, full of emotion and love. His talent, passion, everything came up to the surface with just a short song. He ended the song with “This world is better with you around.” Which hit an arrow right on my heart. My heart ached in the most best way possible. The feeling of my heart sinking as I tried to absorb all that beauty.
“So do you like it?”
My words were at a lost. I had no idea what to say, what to think. The mixed emotions surrounded around me like a whirlpool. I had a lot of things to say, but I also didn’t, not having a clear idea to speak about. He probably noticed me simply being awestruck, retrieving his eyes back to the sunset that was already about to come down and welcome the night sky.
“That was my gift to you. I’m sorry, for not talking to you for so long. For a moment I thought you were just my escape, someone that could give me freedom whenever I wanted. But I didn’t forget you, I couldn’t.” Haechan exhaled sharply, a frown forming on his lips.
“I was able to find my way back to my love for writing songs, singing. I didn’t have to knock my head against the wall trying to figure out what lyrics to write. I was stuck and I thought I had hit a dead end. I know you’d be thinking I just gave you lyrics. But what I’m thankful for was the fact that the lyrics matched me so well. It’s as if you dug out all the thoughts that were shoved and hidden at the back of my mind. Like you knew me inside out.”
Haechan turned his head slowly to me. I opened my mouth, but no words could come out. They were all stuck in my throat. “I... I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to. You’re part of this gift exchange is your book. I mean I don’t like reading but I’d love to read yours. Me to you, and you to me.”
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So, did I ever find out about Haechan’s secret? No, not at all. Turns out it was all a lie he came up just to play with me. The more important thing is the fact that I finished writing my book.
The deformed all-rounder; the story of transparency and the lost that was to be found. It all started when a 3D printer came to doorstep of a boy. He didn’t know what it was used for but he knew how 3D printers worked. But this one worked, quite uniquely. It could made things you thought weren’t possible, like a world.
So he made his own. One that was filled with happiness and joy, no fear and negative energy to be found. It was his own little world, what he wanted his reality to be. He went in, and though he enjoyed the days there, his heart shattered to pieces when the door back for reality crumbled down. He was trapped in a world filled with too much joy and glee. It was suppose to be a place brightness and everlasting greatness. But it didn’t feel anything like that. It was lonely. He eventually grew crazy due to the overdose of seeing butterflies and rainbows every which way.
Then came a girl who was the complete opposite of this world. Dark, mysterious, anger. Every negative feeling you could think of all in one person. The contrast between her and his world was drastic. How did she even end up in the world? Beats him. But she came strolling in with the most stuck up energy ever. It irritated him, of course. They never got along.
But slowly and surely, through harsh times of trying to get along with each other, they accepted the drastic difference. The world that revolved around the boy now began to take notice of this unknown girl’s personality. Further down the road, he realised that they were the same, a balance of good and bad. That was the reason why the gateway crumbled. There was no balance, no give and take of between the light and dark. With that solution, they were able to get out of the world.
He wanted to crush the 3D printer, never wanting to face it again so that he wouldn’t have to go through whatever that had just happened. However, he chose not to. Because it housed the memories of him meeting the girl that changed him entirely. His reality was a whirlpool of mess and obstruction, his printed world was seemingly perfect and filled with all things lovely. He could travel between the worlds, but there would be no point to it. As much as he could assume the world he made was perfect, he knew it wasn’t. It was made by a human. And humans were never perfect. She helped him see that there were bound to be rough edges, some only digging deeper than others.
210 notes · View notes
junicai · 3 years
Text
glass(es).
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| summary | Aria’s glasses suffer an unfortunate fate. Johnny takes her to find a new pair. 
| word count | 1.1k
| warnings | none
| era | circa. March 2021
40. "You are very attractive. Therefore I will stare at you."
42. "Have you seen my glasses around?"
54. "It looks good on you."
a/n: anon i apologize for not fitting in prompt 40, i just couldn’t fit it in to it naturally. im sorry :( also this prompt was done before the others bc it was an easier one to write than the others so thank you for this hjsj
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She was not blind. 
Aria had perfect vision, it wasn’t her fault that things wanted to wobble around the edges and blend together whenever she looked at them. She didn’t understand why she had to be the one to compensate for the fact that objects just couldn’t focus for her. 
And yet, her heart fell into her stomach when her glasses flew off her face during a spin, skidding across the practice room floor to an unknown location. The edges of the mirrors blurred against her will, and she was left squinting in the general direction of the waylaid accessory. 
Aria cursed, spinning on her heel to try and find where they had landed. “Guys, have you seen my glasses? They fell.”
The two boys practicing beside her came to a halt, glancing at her for a moment.
Jaemin and Renjun both spun in a circle, trying to find a small glint from the metallic frames that would alert them to it’s location. Unfortunately, the gold colour was extremely similar to that of the flooring, and the glasses were almost camouflaged against the wooden paneling.
“Where did they go, Riri?” Renjun asked, crouching down to look parallel to the floor.
“Uhh, I think that way?” She pointed over to the other corner of the room where Jisung, Chenle, Jeno and Donghyuck were practicing. 
Aria remembered the glasses sliding off her nose, pitching in that direction. They had spun, skittering slightly before coming to stop directly on the place where Jisung’s foot was coming to land.
“Jisung! My glasses!” 
The frames bent with a snap, and the tinkling of shattered glass was heard as the boy slowly lifted up his foot. The wire stuck to the sole of his shoe for a moment, slowly peeling itself out of the grove in the grip of his shoe and falling to the floor.
Nobody moved, despite the music still blaring through the speakers. 
Jisung looked to her with wide eyes, mouth dropped open and stuttered apologizes already tripping off his tongue. “N-noona oh god I’m so sorry I- I’ll buy you a new pair, can I buy you a new pair? Is that how that works? I-”
Aria stopped him with a hand landing gently on his shoulder. She took a deep breath in, held it for a moment and exhaled slowly. “It’s okay, Jisungie. They’re just glasses. I can get a new pair. Are you hurt anywhere?” 
After thoroughly checking that there wasn’t any residual glass hiding in the folds of Jisung’s joggers, and the glass was swept away and disposed of, Aria enlisted one of the 127 members to come along with her to purchase a new pair. 
“Oh! These are cute.” 
Johnny turned around with a neon pink plastic frame in his hand, holding it up to Aria’s face with his lips pulled in and his eyebrows furrowed in faux concentration. 
She lifted an eyebrow at the small Peppa Pig design along the arm of the glasses. “Oppa. Please.”
“What? They’d look good on you.” He grinned at her, poking her mask-covered nose with the plastic arm. 
Aria only scrunched her nose in response, lifting a hand to slowly move the glasses away from her face. 
Johnny frowned at her. “You’re no fun today.” He turned to put the frame back on the display. 
Aria sighed, moving to wrap her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to go home after practice, I’m tired and this is our first evening off in a while.”
He patted her hand twice. “Then we’ll speed it up, okay Ari?”
“Thank you,” She gave him a grateful smile. 
Beginning to move around the opticians again, Johnny resumed the conversation from where they had left off as they browsed the glasses frames options. 
“So, how did they break again? Oo how about these?” He held up a brown coloured pair. 
Aria peered closer before shaking her head. “No, too dark. And I told you, they flew off during a spin and Jisung stomped on them by accident.”
He put the glasses back on the display case, sucking in air through his teeth. “Didn’t he stand on Jeno’s ring, like, yesterday?”
A nod. 
Wincing, Johnny pulled out another frame from the glass case. “Damn, remind me to keep my valuables away from his feet. These are cute though?”
Aria tilted her head to look at the frames. They were a lighter metallic colour than her older ones, slightly rounder and larger in shape as well. Plucking them delicately from his hands, she held them up to her own face and spun to look at her own reflection in the mirror. 
“It’s hard to tell what they’ll look like when I’m wearing a mask,” Aria complained, scrunching up her nose. 
“They look pretty similar to your old ones though, how much of a difference could it be?” Johnny pointed out. 
She relented. “True.”
Pausing to gaze at her own reflection for a minute, she clicked her tongue once before folding up the frames in her palm. “I think we should keep looking for another minute or so but,” Aria slipped out her phone to check the time, “I think they’re closing soon so we’d better be quick.”
Johnny hummed in confirmation, and the two idols pottered through the remaining section of glasses, finding one or two pairs that caught their initial attention before eventually being returned to the shelf after being rejected by a process of elimination. 
At the end of it all, Aria was left with a receipt for a new pair of frames that should arrive in the opticians two days from now, and a small burning pain between her eyes from straining them for so long. 
She rubbed at the spot tenderly, hissing slightly when she pressed too hard. 
Johnny looked over to her. “Sore?” 
“Yeah, I think I should have worn my contacts, but I didn’t think it’d take this long. My mistake.”
He leaned over to press a finger to Aria’s temple. She jerked back with a small screech. “Oh my god your hands are so cold!” 
Johnny laughed at her reaction, wiggling his fingers in her direction threateningly.
“You keep those icicles of death away from me,” Aria warned. 
“Or what?” He teased, moving closer. 
“Or I’ll-”
“You’ll?”
“I’ll-”
“You’ll?”
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renegadewangs · 2 years
Text
Elementary -Sneaky Peeky
Since I’ve been promising this new Homumiko fic for a while already but don’t feel quite ready to post any chapters on AO3 yet, I figured I could still drop a little sneak preview here. Enjoy this little snippet taken from the first chapter of Elementary!
(Warning: spoilers for The Great Ace Attorney, allusions to substance abuse)
Right on cue, they came to halt before door number twenty six, the last one before the hall came to an abrupt end. Casting a quick glance out the window, Yujin could see a luscious field of grass and some very healthy looking trees. Several patients were relaxing there, taking in the sunlight. It appeared an almost serene sight. What a shame it was that the high wall surrounding the clinic's grounds was also in clear view. Mr. Holmes rapped his knuckles against the door, though didn't wait for any sort of response and instead set his hand down immediately upon the handle. Yujin's eyes widened, as the scene unveiled within room twenty six was truly remarkable. The curtains were drawn and the light affixed to the ceiling wasn't functional. A lamp was set down on the floor in a far corner, illuminating only one side of the room. The nightstand had been set upside down, its legs now reaching towards the ceiling for no discernible reason. And then there was the room's resident, standing on the bed with his back to the door, wearing a colorful, loose-fitting sweater with long sleeves over a pair of dark jeans. Both hands were pressed against the most chaotic wall Yujin had ever seen. At first, he mistook the disarray for some particularly distasteful wallpaper pattern. Upon closer inspection and a squint, he identified it as writing- no, scribbles. Mr. Holmes strode across the room immediately, reaching up to snatch a small object from his brother's hand. “I should hope this isn't a permanent marker.” The younger Holmes- Sherlock- turned round and looked surprised for a very long moment, almost as if he were still in a world of his own. Despite the enormous difference in expressions, Yujin could see the family resemblance with ease. The brothers shared the same piercing eyes, the same keen expression and even the same sort of hook to their nose. One might even say they shared the same fluffy, light blond hair, though Mycroft's was tidily trimmed whilst Sherlock's was longer and unkempt. Similarities aside, there were the more unique traits to be found in posture and physique. Whereas Mycroft had a rounder figure and stood rigid, his younger brother was lanky, slumped and perhaps just a bit taller. It was remarkable, Yujin thought to himself, how apples might fall from the tree with a bit of a haphazard spiraling momentum, perhaps even bouncing off one or two lower branches, only to land quite close to the base after all. A broad smile dawned on Sherlock's face. “Mycroft!” he exclaimed, hopping down from the bed. “How good of you to come! Impeccable timing. I've done it, you see. Do you see? I've solved P versus NP right here in this very room.” Mycroft peered along the wall for only a few seconds before shaking his head and slipping the marker into his pocket. “This is gibberish, Sherlock.” “No, it's not! It's P versus NP!” “Half of this is not even math.” “That's what makes the solution so brilliant. All those who came before me limited themselves- boxed themselves into a corner! No no, one must think outside the box in these matters.” “Ah, pardon me,” Yujin interjected apprehensively. “What exactly is P versus NP?” The younger Holmes looked at him with such a slack-jawed expression, it seemed as if he hadn't even noted Yujin's presence before now. It stirred a sense of embarrassment and Yujin promptly wished he hadn't spoken at all. “P versus NP is a major unsolved problem in mathematics and computer science,” Mycroft explained. “Informally, it posits whether every problem with a solution which can be verified by a computer can also be solved by a computer.” “In other words, just because a computer can verify a solution is correct, can that same computer also come up with a solution on its own? Fascinating stuff!” Sherlock smiled once more and slapped a hand against the wall behind him. “It was introduced in 1971 by Stephen Cook in his seminal paper "The Complexity of Theorem Proving Procedures" and is considered by most mathematicians and computer scientists to be the pre-eminent open problem in mathematics.” Yujin peered up towards the wall again. He knew nothing about complex mathematics, yet even he could tell within so much as a single glimpse that the scribbles hadn't solved any problems. There were indeed numbers and symbols, yet also stray words such as “milk”, “fire” and even “that teddybear Mycroft stole when I was three”. “... I see,” Yujin said, if only to be polite. “I don't have time for your games, Sherlock,” Mycroft said, his voice even more of a low drone than before. “It's not a game, it's P versus-” The younger Holmes broke off quite abruptly when his brother's finger found a switch on the wall, bathing the room with more fluorescent lighting. Sherlock recoiled back into the bed, one hand raised to his face and eyes scrunched shut. “Listen to me very carefully.” Mycroft moved to stand before him, arms crossed over his chest. “You will be free to leave this clinic in three days' time and I won't be there for you then. I'm needed back in Italy and will be boarding a plane tomorrow morning.” “Huh, I get to leave already? Feels like only yesterday I walked in here of my own free will, no blackmail involved whatsoever,” Sherlock replied in such a light, sweet tone of voice, it struck Yujin as odd. One certainly couldn't deny that he was grinning, his hand still shielding his eyes to some degree. “One might sooner say you're being evicted. Mr. Caidin has reached the limit of his patience.” “Oooh, is this about the toilet experiment I did the other day?” “Yes, Sherlock, the toilet experiment.” “That was jolly good fun! Five sewage pipes burst, I hear. Oh, you should've seen the look on Warden Caidin's face! Are you certain I can't stay a bit longer? I was really starting to find my rhythm here.”
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aka-indulgence · 3 years
Text
I’m back with another episode of “I talked with @llamagoddessofficial​ and now I have to write something” dsfdkglh ok here you goo
also if you have thalassophobia/fear the deep sea especially you should probably not read this, because that’s where this takes place, and there’s a bit of a scary scene where reader’s in danger so beware!
======
900m - 2955ft . . .
You watched the computer closely as you make your descent into the deep, empty waters.
You’re a researcher from the Ebott Aquatic Research Institute, and you’re currently aboard a research submersible, and you’re here to observe marine animals up close and personal. The advantage this had over robot-controlled subs was mainly visibility, and that you could react and adapt much faster.
You were excited to be granted the opportunity of something so... monumental, not just in your career, but to actually be here, in the deep sea where so few have ventured.
Now, traveling through the twilight zone... you were still excited. But you were also building with nervous energy, with not much space to move in, surrounded by darkness, and...
You’re alone.
You knew that far before your trip. The sub was designed for one person, after all.
(It had a main front “window”, shaped like a dome that provided a sort of “360 degree view”. The control table sat at the base, with you sat right behind it. It’s sides were metal and had side windows as well.)
But now that you’re here in the deep, far from any other human... from any other living being, seemingly surrounded by nothing but vast, empty waters... it’s quite the experience.
When you went down the continental slope, it looked more like the moon’s surface than anything earthly, not to mention the various creatures that passed by your lights. The bioluminescent creatures especially (you were lucky to come across a giant siphonophore on the way down) made your descent feels like you’re traveling through a portal to another world, unfamiliar to your own.
Surrounded by darkness, the only lights coming from your sub, with only the company being the sounds of the water outside, along with the little beeps the computer would make... it felt lonely, and to be honest, made you a bit nervous.
But you were still thrilled to be here, anyway.
You’ve travelled maybe for a couple of hours down here, and you were closing the distance that marked the transition from to the midnight zone. As you keep descending, you keep seeing less and less creatures. You haven’t any in over an hour by now.
950m - 3120 ft . . .
You watch the marine snow fall, and you’re feeling a bit restless from the inactivity. You’re nearing the end of your journey; after you reach the midnight zone, you’re supposed to maybe stay for 15 minutes before returning to the surface. You hope you’ll see something before having to return.
You’re just starting to wonder if you could place your elbow somewhere on top of the controls without pressing any buttons when you notice something moving around through one of the side windows of the submersible.
You immediately sit up as you lean into the window... two dots of white were floating by in the distance, and from the way it moved you know that’s not marine snow.
It’s... glowing? For a second, you think they must be eyes- only to shake your head on yourself. That can’t be it, can it? It’s probably some fish or other that had lights on its head and tail... who knows, maybe you’ve discovered a new species?
Yeah... that must be it. You try to reason with yourself, even as your heart starts to thump faster, keenly feeling like you’re being watched.
You hear the water burble and swish around you, and it sounds like... something big swimming around you.
You swallow nervously. When you keep staring at the white dots (lights?) you start to feel anxious, but you keep watching anyway. You almost jump in your seat (almost hitting your head) when you start to hear some sort of rumbling(?) coming from the outside. It was low and almost resembled some kind of old engine. Maybe it’s because you’ve been in the quiet for so long, but it felt like the sound shook you.
You try to keep your eyes on the- whatever it is out there, wary of what it actually is. Is it just you, or are those lights getting bigger? Closer? You find yourself leaning a bit away from the window, and watch as they slowly float its way above the sub, out of your view. You turn around and lean to the other window, expecting it to appear on the other side- when you see something out of the corner of your eye.
You gasp when you see a shadow slowly float its way across the lights, still a bit away from your sub. You can’t see the creature’s head, but you see... tendrils? Slowly making its way upwards to the left, before disappearing back into the darkness.
“... fuck,” You say emphatically as your brain provides you with the thought of is that a giant predator? It was attracted by your lights and is trying to figure out what you are. You might be in danger if it decides to attack.
You know it’s not very logical of you to assume that but... better safe than sorry, right?
Your eyes dart to the control panel. You turn off the engine before turning to the light switches. You flick them all off, including the internal lights, and you’re plunged into a world of darkness. 
The constant whirring of the engines shut down, and for a few moments, you only hear the sound of the water swishing around you, that rumbling sound gone.
... and then you heard a sound that resembled an otherworldly shriek(?!) before it returned back to that rumble, but this time, it resembled a growl. Your heart leapt in your chest as you look around for the creature.
You spot the white dots, and it’s definitely closer. Your breaths are shallow as you’re praying to whoever’s listening that it’s going to leave (the behavior of deep sea creatures are largely a mystery, but it looked like a predator stalking you)... widening your eyes when you see it.
A string of light appeared from what seems to be a spine(?) all the way down, and you see that it does have tentacles, dotting across it up until the tips, lighting a very dim blue (if you weren’t surrounded by pitch black darkness, you probably wouldn’t be able to see it) that fades in and out of darkness.
In this poor lighting and your human eyes, you can’t really guess what the creature is aside that it had tentacles, but if you had to guess it’s size... it was about the size of the sub? Bigger?
You don’t know how far it is from you so you don’t know exactly, but from the sounds it makes and the brief shadow you saw earlier, big is probably not far off.
You could only hear the sounds of your own breaths as you wait it out, always watching where the glow was, wondering if its getting closer or if its just the trick of your mind. Your eyes weren’t built for this...
You stare at the feeble light for what feels like hours (though it must’ve been just a few minutes at most) when you realize you can’t see it anymore. You look at the windows, and your eye widens instinctively (you’re not going to get more light by doing that). You strain to see if the creature’s still out there, and you hate how completely helpless you feel because you swear you could see shadows just beyond the window, but you don’t know if you’re actually see something or it’s just your brain trying to make sense of the complete darkness.
Maybe it’s gone...?
You feel your whole body flinch when you see a blink of light nearby, and when you turn you see it’s your depth gauge.
1000 m - 3280 ft . . .
The midnight zone.
The glow of the numbers, resembling a digital clock seems like the brightest thing you’ve ever seen as you lean in to it. You turn your head up towards the main dome-window of the sub...
This time jumping when you see the two definitely lights looking back at you, closer than ever before. It was stationary now, and you realize those ARE eyes when you see a wide, gleeful grin appear just below it.
Suddenly, you see how the creature comes back to light- this time much, much brighter than before. It shoots like lightning, flashing from its spine down to its tentacles- which you realize were completely enveloping your submersible.
It’s suckers made rings of light on the windows and were squirming all over, and you scream when you followed them back to its owner.
It really was a skeleton- ribcage, arms and all. It (he?) almost looks like a human skeleton, except that his skull was much rounder, his jaws were fused, practically all of his bones were thicker than any skeleton model you’ve seen, and his hands were fused to make palm-like shapes.
And they were pressed right onto the window in front of you. 
That clicking, rumbling sound started up again, and this time it actually shook you, coming from his skeletal part. You see how his expression changes into something dreamy as he tilts its skull and his eyelights settle on you. His cry starts to sound lighter, joyfully(?), as if he was happy to see you.
He closes his hand around the window and you see his tentacles (each about as thick as your torso!) waving from somewhere a human pelvis is supposed to be. You look back up to the skeleton when you hear a whine coming from him, a distressed look now taking his face as his fingers curl into fists in front of you and his tentacles look even more restless.
You lean away, into your seat. There’s this look of... want on his face, obsessively looking at you. Your heart sinks into your stomach when his face turns into something dark... angry... another frustrated cry coming out of him when he looks around you, and he tries to sink his fingers into the window.
You’re confused as to what he’s doing when you hear the metal around you groan under a pressure- a pressure he’s applying.
This sub was made to withstand extreme pressures, and he was able to to put it under stress.
And it looks like he’s trying to crack it open like an egg.
Adrenaline pumps through you and you throw your hands onto the control panel- if he can do that, now you’re in real danger! - and you turn the engine and lights back to life and take the lever for stirring the submersible, pulling it as hard as you can backwards.
You hear the engine rev and eventually whirring that sounds more like a drill than it does a propeller, and the sub starts to move back as the creature’s tentacles slip away from the windows.
The skeleton(-deep sea octopus?)’s sockets widen and a scowl appears on his face as it’s tentacles snap towards you, catching you back in its slimy hold- and in horror, you watch and feel as he tugs your whole sub towards him. This time you could see the muscles becoming taught all around you, his tentacles glowing almost angrily as he redoubles his efforts to crush your sub. He was snarling now, eyelights mere pinpricks, baring his teeth at you (or the sub?), the joints of his phalanges raised as he tries to break inside.
An alarm surprised another cry out of you, the warning symbol flashing on your computer’s screen. You didn’t have to read it to know what was happening- there was a dangerous amount of pressure around your vessel, and you have to do something.
Panic takes over you as the lights flash and you hear the metal groan and squeak even more, and even with the engine at full power, you can’t escape the monster’s clutches.
You turn into a ball, your vision blurring (with tears?).
Is this where I’m going to die? You sob. At least I got to do something I’ve always wanted to do... You laugh almost hysterically, hugging your knees, covering your head. You start to cry, sobbing and sniffling as the lights blink around you again.
It’s the end...
...
......
...........
... The sound stopped.
You sniffle for a little longer, your eyes feel dry from the sudden burst of tears, and then you dare yourself to look out from your arms.
... the creature is still in front of you, but he looks significantly calmer. His entire body looks like its gone lax, and there was this look of... surprise? On his face. His sockets were wide but so were his eyelights, and his fingers don’t look like they’re clawing at your window any longer. He locks eyes with you, and you feel like he’s looking deep inside you, and you can’t look away.
... slowly... he blinks, and his sockets are relaxed now. He’s not smiling, his teeth neutral, and you wonder what he’s doing now when you hear a sort of shhk noise coming from all around you. You realize he’s released his tentacles from the submersible, and is now floating in the middle of your lights.
He gives you one last look before he twists, and almost in the blink of an eye, he’s returned into the darkness, his bioluminescent lights becoming dim until you can’t see it anymore.
Your heart is still hammering in your chest, and at the back of your mind you note that panting and gasping like this probably isn’t doing your oxygen supply wonders.
The alarm is still sounding, and you see its warning you about minor damages to the sub and dwindling air supply. Thankfully, you still had quite the surplus for going back to the surface.
Considering the... events that just transpired, you decide its best to cut the trip short and return to the surface.
You think it might be the fastest ascent you’ve ever made.
----
You return to the surface without any further excitement, and your crew is surprised from how fast you returned to the surface. Thankfully, no one blames you for the short journey when they see the apparent dents in the submersible. You walk off the mothership and onto the dock tired, and you tell the others that you think you’ll be taking a break from using the sub for a while. You don’t want to look like a complete coward in front of them, and you hope you’ll be able to go again... so you tell them you’ll go again sometime, just not in the near future.
... it’s probably for the best, anyway.
You had no way of knowing, but a shadow had been following you through your whole trip back to the surface.
He’s never been to the surface before, and the world he sees is just as alien to him as his world was to you.
But he didn’t pay attention to that.
He stayed underwater, but he got a view of you, walking back off the dock, beautiful, lovely...
He hopes it won’t be the last of his encounters with you.
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angryschnauzer · 3 years
Text
Stuck - Part 2 (Steve Rogers edition)
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Summary: Following the development in your relationship from maid x client, you visit Captain Rogers on his invitation, with no false pretences of what is expected
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) 
Warnings; NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, sex toys, dildo’s, butt plugs, masturbation, voyeurism, anal fingering, anal sex, creampie, Sugar Daddy relationship, Daddy petname used.
I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Part 1 can be found HERE, Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE All typos are allowed to run wild and free
Stuck - Chapter 2 - Steve Rogers Version
Ringing the doorbell you heard footsteps this time, and were able to prepare yourself for Captain Rogers opening the door - or so you thought. When the door swung open you could not have prepared yourself for the sight of him in smart black pants and a crisp grey button down shirt, the top couple of buttons opened to reveal a teasing glimpse of chest hair, his tie hanging loose and unfastened around his neck. He looked you up and down, taking in how your breasts were pushed a little higher, your ass a little rounder from the way the heels made you stand, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stepped to one side;
“Please, do come in”
As you stepped past him you caught a waft of his aftershave, dark and musky, a hint of sandalwood and rosemary. You stood fidgeting, glancing around the apartment and seeing that it was sparkling clean, telling you that you’d be earning your money a different way today. You didn’t mind, not in the slightest. The $2000 tip he’d given you on your last visit had paid your credit card bill and you’d been able to make your rent on time for the first time in months. 
When the parcel had arrived on your doorstep a week ago with a note from Capt Rogers you’d quickly glanced around the hallway, no courier or delivery guy having been seen, almost nervous to find what was inside. When you had opened the parcel it had felt like christmas morning, so many little treats all individually wrapped, a note from the high end lingerie store saying that they hoped you enjoyed the parcel. That night you’d tried on the exquisite underwear set, marvelling how the bra gave you the most amazing cleavage, the half cups ending just at the right place for your nipples to peek over the top of the lace. The panties had looked innocent enough from the front, but at the back it was a series of elastic straps that caged in your ass, the crotch non-existent and it gave you no false pretenses about what they were intended for. Having unpacked all the other treats - lipstick, perfume, bath bombs and scented skin oil, your favourite chocolates - you came upon one final gift and an envelope. Opening the parcel first you let out a small squeak when you saw the heart shaped jewel shine in the light from your lamp, the heavy metal of the plug smooth and cool in the palm of your hand. Grabbing the envelope you opened it, your hands shaking;
“Enjoy your gifts. I’ll make a booking soon. Steve x”
Back in Capt Rogers’ apartment you were distracted as he stood behind you, the only tell that he was there was the sudden feel of body heat warming your back even though he wasn’t touching you. When he finally spoke his voice was low and quiet;
“You can back out now and there will be no hard feelings. But if you want to stay and continue i can guarantee it will be worth your while in so many ways. So, what will it be?”
You could feel your hands shaking with nerves, hell, even excitement. Taking a deep breath you slid one foot back and moved until your ass was pressing against Mr Walkers crotch;
“I’d like to stay please. I very much enjoyed the gifts, Daddy”
“Good girl”
He wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you flush with his chest as his lips found your neck, working his tongue and teeth over your jugular as his hands gripped at your hips before moving to the zipper on the back of your dress. The metallic rasp of it being pulled down filled the hallway, the cool air hitting your heated skin soon soothed as he trailed his fingertips down the exposed deep v of skin. Pushing the formal maid’s dress down your shoulders you let it fall to the floor, the deep groan of appreciation that rumbled up through his throat making your body tingle with excitement.
“You look fantastic, i made the right choice with this set” he took hold of your asscheek; “Are you wearing all of it?”
Bending a little at the waist you pushed your ass out and felt as he pushed his hand between your legs, first touching your pussy before moving back and pressing against the jewel of the plug;
“Hmmmn very good. My good girl follows instructions well. Now put your hands on the wall and stick your ass out a little more”
“Yes Daddy”
Stepping out of your dress you turned and laid your palms flat on the board and batten walls, this time the sound of a smaller zipper filling the silence before your legs were kicked apart and a hand pressed against the small of your back. Bending your spine you pushed your ass out, gasping as you felt the thick blunt tip of his cock nudging against your swollen petals, searching, seeking out its destination before pushing in fully in one firm thrust.
“Fuck. Your pussy is as tight as i remembered” he muttered behind you, yet you were unable to respond, your body tensing around the deep penetration that felt so good. You felt him spread his legs and set off at a brutal pace, fucking into you from behind, with each thrust his pelvis would push the plug into your ass stimulating you even more. 
There were no words, just grunts and moans, and you could feel your legs starting to shake as an orgasm approached rapidly;
“I’m coming…”
“Not yet you aren’t… you’ll come when i tell you to come”
“”Yes… Daddy...”
Gritting your teeth you tried to will the building orgasm to subside, but the way you were being fucked made it hard. Your left leg started to shake violently as you tried to hold back, Capt Rogers ramming into you from behind before he finally grunted;
“Cum for me now”
You didn’t think you could orgasm on demand, but as you relaxed just the tiniest amount the levy broke and you came around his cock. That in turn set his orgasm off, and you were pushed against the wall as he came deep inside you, thrusting harshly into you as you felt him spasm deep within your walls.
When he pulled out you winced, quickly closing your legs as you felt his seed already start to drip out of you, and as he tucked himself back into his dress pants he winked;
“Good girl. Keep me inside” he reached for your hand; “Now come, a glass of champagne”
He led you to the large lounge, the pristine white leather couches and the soft net curtains giving the room a bright yet muted appearance. One wall was completely made up of floor to ceiling mirrors, and there were just a few houseplants scattered around the place to break up the stark white of the room.
“Sit” he called out from the kitchen before you heard the quiet pop of the cork.
“But… i’ll make a mess of your leather…” you called back, only to hear his voice as he approached holding two glasses of the golden frizzante.
“Doesn’t matter. For what i have planned you’ll be making even more of a mess than just a smear of my cum”
He handed you the glass and gently tapped his own against it before raising it to his lips, you followed and hummed as the bubbles smoothed over your tongue. He cocked his head and smiled, yet it felt like the look a viper would give its prey before it struck;
“Now, i said sit”
You did as he instructed, perching your ass on the edge of the couch before remembering the plug and wincing as you moved back slightly so you could sit on the whole of your buttocks to relieve some of the pressure in your ass.
Capt Rogers hadn’t moved, and you were now eye level with his crotch, the outline of his cock clear to see as the fine fabric clung to him. Licking your lips you quickly sipped at your glass again before he tucked a finger beneath your chin to pull your gaze up to his face;
“Don’t worry, you’ll be getting another load soon… i have something else planned first… tell me a little about yourself…”
He stepped away and you watched him as he moved around the room, picking up a gift box and setting it down on the low table in front of you just out of reach, but saying nothing until he sat on the couch opposite you;
“I asked you to tell me about yourself…”
Stumbling on your words you tried to explain a little, unsure if he wanted a professional or a personal explanation, your arrangement seemingly a mixture of the two already. He sat with one leg hooked at an angle over the other knee, quietly sipping his champagne, his gaze intense as it never left you once. Finally he cleared his throat;
“Would you like to open your gift?”
Reaching to set your glass down, you took the box and rested it on your knees, pulling off the ribbon and lifting the lid, the gasp that fell from your lips immediately followed by a grin and somewhat unladylike snort of laughter, before focusing back on what was contained;
“Oh my god…”
Glancing up you saw Capt Rogers eyeing you suspiciously, before you wrapped your hand around the contents and pulled it from the packaging, laying it across both of your palms as you gazed down at the heavy rubber dildo. It was so detailed, every vein and ridge perfectly formed, before a thought suddenly struck you and your eyes went wide;
“Is this… is this you?”
“I had it cast just for you” he settled both feet flat on the floor and you watched as he settled comfortably, his thighs wide apart; “Why don’t you give it a test run? Show me how well you take it?”
For a moment you simply held it, wide eyed at the thought of performing such an intimate act, but shook that thought from your mind as you settled back against the cushions, hooking both feet onto the edge of the low glass table in front of you, your heels hanging over the edge as you parted your thighs and trailed a hand down to your core, rubbing against the wet lace that was soaked from Capt Rogers fucking you just a few minutes before. Lifting the dildo you considered it for a moment before spitting on it, bringing your soaked hand up and working the combined wetness over the thickness, pulling your panties to one side and resting the wide tip at your entrance. 
Looking up you maintained eye contact as you carefully pressed the first couple of inches in and breached your tight entrance, your jaw falling slack as you felt the familiar yet different stretch. You carefully worked the rubber phallus back and forth, pushing a little more each time, helping to lubricate the shaft with your own essence as it filled you. When it was inserted enough you grasped the heavy ballsack, your other hand teasing your nipples as they peeked over the lace of your bra, trailing it down to your panties to rub at your engorged clit. 
Working your body in the same way you had done so many times in private, thinking of Captain Steve Rogers - even before your first sexual encounter with him - it was now surreal as you watched him palming himself through his clothing as you fucked yourself with the rubber imitation of him.
You could feel yourself getting close, the air in the room thick with lust as the only sounds were heavy breathing and the wet sounds coming from between your legs, when he called out;
“Stop”
With a whine you did. Pausing, waiting for his instruction;
“Take it out and stand”
The obscene sucking squelch as you removed the dildo from your aching core filled the room, before you set it down on the box and stood on shaky legs.
“Come here”
Your legs felt like jelly, crossing the room and standing before him, watching as he parted his legs further to make room for you;
“What would you like me to do Daddy?”
“On your knees”
Settling obediently between his thick thighs, you were grateful for the extra long pile rugs beneath you cushioning your knees, resting your hands cautiously on his muscled thighs and looking up at him with wide eyes as he spoke;
“Lets see how good that mouth of yours is?”
Watching as he unzipped himself, at this angle his dick looked even bigger and more imposing than the feeling of it inside you. Shuffling closer you wrapped your hands carefully around the hot shaft, admiring how he was already rock hard and weeping with need. Leaning in you lapped at the clear bead that had pooled at the tip, tasting both him and yourself on his skin. Licking your lips to lubricate them you took a deep breath and descended on him, his girth stretching your lips almost painfully, working your tongue over the silken flesh. He gently smoothed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realised you had shed;
“Doing so well Princess… your mouth is as good as your cunt is…” his other hand wrapped in your hair and he started to control your actions, his hips rising in sharp movements as he started to fuck your face. He maintained eye contact as he held your head, moving you how he wanted;
“Cry those tears for me, i know they’re not tears of pain or discomfort… its just overwhelming, isn’t it?”
You couldn’t answer, your mouth and throat too busy being occupied by his heavy flesh, but you nodded and let out a tiny grunt; it felt so good, so depraved to be used like this, and as his thrusts got faster you prepared yourself for what was to come next… but instead at the last moment he pulled you off of him.
Gasping for breath you were wide eyed, no doubt your makeup ruined but in the quiet of his apartment you watched him as he gritted his teeth and regained his composure. Finally he spoke;
“Turn around and sit on my lap… legs together and bounce on my dick”
You stood and turned, backing up and bending over before he pressed a hot palm to your naked thigh;
“Stop. Bend over. Let me look at that silken purse”
Knees together you did as he asked, letting out a gasp as he ran a calloused thumb over the pouting lips of your sex, already swollen from the events that had led to that very moment, and as he teased out your nectar he smeared it on your skin.
“Very nice, holding treasures within…”
Dipping his thumb inside he drew it out and hummed in appreciation at seeing his cum mixed with your own on it, before tugging at the jewel of your plug and smearing his thumb under the rim to your sensitive opening.
“Hmmmn, another treasure waiting to be pillaged… but first…”
He took hold of your hip, pulling you back as he held his dick and lined you up with it, and at that hot searing touch of flesh you gasped. You were more than ready for him, craving his touch, your body accepting him as you stopped holding back and allowed gravity to take over until you were sat flush on his lap, speared deep and aching with need.
His warm hands smoothed over the soft globes of your ass before pushing against you back;
“Bounce for me Princess”
You did as he asked, starting off slow, the warmth of his palm against your back spurring you on as you started to move faster, your pussy dripping around him and with each wet slap of your bodies you knew you’d coated his balls and taint with your juices. On one downward fall you landed hard, groaning as you ground your ass against him and his hands suddenly clamped down on your hips to keep you flush with him;
“Stay”
You felt the tug on the plug in your ass, moaning as you felt it being pulled gently but persistently, moaning as you stretched at the fullest part before the somewhat disappointing relief as it was removed completely. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him set it down carefully on the small table to the side, and grab a small bottle of lube that had been sitting there behind a plant pot. You braced yourself for the inevitable.
---
Steve.
He’d paced the hallways of his apartment from the moment his hidden camera’s had picked up that you’d left your building; checking traffic cam’s and building surveillance to track your progress. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be nervous; he was in charge and you were simply a plaything… and yet when he’d heard the doorbell ring his stomach had done a little flip and he’d had to take a few seconds to calm his racing heart.
What had followed had been that of his wildest dreams; a woman pliable and willing, and yet still independent with her own thoughts. He’d had women simp over him and he’d had to guide them at every step, weak wristed and prudish with their own sexual desires… but with you… you were different.
For the time that had followed since you’d walked through his door he had told himself he couldn’t get too attached, this was a sexual relationship, one that suited his needs and that he controlled, but with every passing minute he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper.
And now here you were, sat on his lap and he was balls deep inside you, feeling your cunt tremble around his achingly hard dick, and at the sight of your tight back door winking as he’d removed the plug he’d almost blown his load right there and then. 
Carefully pouring the thick lube on the crease of your ass he watched for a moment as it slowly ran down, before catching it with his thumb and massaging against your asshole, watching as the stretched muscle accepted him so eagerly. He worked the muscle open, moving from his thumb to two fingers then three, your moans as you accepted him causing him to grit his teeth so not to blow his load right there and then in your unprotected cunt. And he knew you were still unprotected, he’d kept track of your appointments and knew you hadn’t updated your birth control, it had been a mere three weeks since your last visit, and even if you hadn’t figured it out he sure had.
He could feel that you were ready, lifting you up before positioning himself at your prepared hole;
“Just relax Princess, i know you can do it” 
He spoke softly, quietly… reassuring you as he watched you slowly stretching around him, and that first inch as he slipped inside you it took all his control not to slam deep inside your guts. 
With one hand under your buttcheek he held you up as he could feel your body stretching, growing accustomed to his girth inside you, and as you started to relax he would slip inside a little further.
He was basking in the moment, the lewd and salacious nature of something he had done many times before, yet this time it felt different; the connection was there this time. As his mind reeled from the realisation that this time he was going to have to take into account his own feelings, you turned and grinned at him, and with a sly smirk sank down until you were fully seated with his dick filling your ass;
“OH FUCK…” Steve cursed, his hands flying to your hips and his head rolling back to rest on the couch as he fought not to blow his load right there and then in the dark recesses of your ass.
Letting out another string of curses, he gritted his teeth and let out a low growl, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you start to bounce up and down on him, his gaze drawn to where your tight hole was stretched so much to accommodate his thick girth. He knew that if you kept bouncing like that he’d cum in seconds, and it was too good to let his body deceive him. Wrapping his arms around your torso he pulled you back;
“Shhhh… slow down Princess…”
-
You whimpered as he laid you against his chest, his dick slipping out of your ass a little before he bucked his hips and pushed slowly back into you. With one arm wrapped around your torso he trailed the other down your stomach before he sought out your sensitive pearl, rubbing at your clit;
“Steve...” you whined, feeling the intense pleasure shoot through your body; “I’m gonna cum”
“Don’t… not yet…” he gasped out; “Please… wait…”
“I can’t…”
Your back arched and you felt your mind leave your body for a split second, vaguely aware of the rumble in Capt Rogers chest as your orgasm set off his own, filling your ass with thick ropes of his seed as you lay prone on his chest.
Finally through bliss hazed eyes you turned to look at him, surprised when his lips met yours for a soft kiss. His lips were delicate and you could taste a hint of bourbon lingering on his tongue that the champagne couldn’t mask, the moment only broken by the feel of his softening shaft slipping from your body with a rather graphic squelch.
Now that your bodies were no longer connected he shifted you into his arms as he cradled you in his lap, one strong arm holding you as the other traced patterns over your skin with sensitive fingertips. You watched as he seemingly memorised the plains and curves of your body by feel alone, before he finally spoke;
“Let me run you a bath”
-
Steve
He’d carried you to his bathroom, running a deep warm bath as he’d helped you undress, rubbing the balls of your feet and you sighed as the pressure of the day seemed to slip from your mind. After helping you into the bath he’d massaged your shoulders as you’d soaked in the tub, before taking a soft natural sponge and gently washed you. 
When the water had started to cool he’d helped you out and gazed as the water droplets had run down your skin, reminding him of a maiden emerging from the sea on a sun kissed island. Wrapping you in an oversized fluffy robe he smiled;
“I’ve set some clothing out for you on my bed, i’ll be right out once i’ve showered”
You nodded and quietly thanked him, and he was finally alone with his thoughts as he quickly stripped and stepped into the large shower enclosure. The water was cold as it shot out of the jets, too impatient to let it warm up as he quickly rinsed the residue of his efforts from his body, his mind pensive as he wondered how he would broach the proposal he had for you. Quickly finishing up he stepped out and roughly dried himself, wrapping a towel around his waist before venturing into his bedroom, smiling to himself as he saw you preening in the mirror;
“Looks good on you”
You turned and smiled at his words and he could have sworn he felt his heart swell just a little more at the look on your face, watching as you bounced across the room and planted a kiss to his lips;
“Thank you…” 
He watched as you smoothed a hand over your breasts and down your hips, the expensive loungewear far overpriced but the quality shone through as it clung to your curves. Knowing you were naked beneath it had arousal swelling his length again, but he gritted his teeth to will it away, at least for a while;
“Looks beautiful on you Princess”
-
Searching through the coffee station in Steve’s kitchen you found a box of mixed herbals teas, and once you’d figured out his over engineered kettle it was soon warming up to get to a steady boil. Looking around the kitchen you spied the half drunk bottle on the counter, surprised when it stated it was zero alcohol when you felt a pair of warm arms wrap around your waist and a bearded mouth trace kissed up your neck;
“There’s still champagne…” 
His deep voice resonated through your spine, and you slowly spun in his arms before you wrapped yours around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his lips;
“I need something to soothe my throat after all the screaming you made me do”
“Fair enough” he said with a smile, giving your ass a squeeze; “Go take a seat, i’ll bring it over to you”
A few minutes later he set a steaming mug down in front of you, sitting beside you as he cleared his throat;
“I have a proposition for you…”
Blowing on the hot tea you raised an eyebrow as he continued;
“I’d like to keep you”
“Keep me?”
He shifted on his seat;
“I mean… come to an arrangement… an exclusive arrangement”
“So, like a sugar Daddy thing?” you asked
“Yes, as in a kept-woman”
You paused for a moment, considering what he was telling you before gently setting down your tea;
“I like the sound of this, but i want you to be specific with what you mean, what will be provided, and what any repercussions are”
Over the next fifteen minutes he calmly explained that you could give up your other maid jobs, he would pay your rent and expenses, and if you desired so could follow your passion for the arts. He would not expect you to be a live in whore-come-maid, but made it clear he would like a sexual relationship, but only on your terms and with your full consent at every instance.
“How do you feel about that?” he asked as he finally finished detailing what seemed like the dream arrangement.
You smiled at him as you shifted on the seat, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders;
“I think i feel pretty good about it”
Your lips met and the kiss was deep and passionate, bodies entwined and arousal growing when suddenly a loud ringing came from the table, Steve’s phone furiously vibrating against the glass.
“Fuck… Sorry, i need to get that”
Steve quickly lifted and set you down on the couch as he stood and answered the phone, listening intently before ending the call with a curt confirmation. Crossing the room he knelt at the side of the couch;
“I’m so sorry, i’ve got to go… my work…”
“I get it” you interrupted; “I know your line of work means sudden assignments”
“I’ve got to be at the compound in an hour, but your place is on the way so i can drop you home, this isn’t how i wanted today to end, but its the job…”
“I understand”
-
Twenty minutes later you were standing on the sidewalk outside your building, watching as Steve’s plain black Audi disappeared into traffic, wanting to wave but he’d said not to. Your phone chimed and your eyes went wide when you saw the ‘tip’ he’d given you, more than three months rent and a promise to call when he was off mission. You had never imagined you’d be in this situation, but you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity.
What you didn’t see was the person watching you from the shadows, already knowing you were their target, the perfect leverage.
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buckybabybaby · 3 years
Text
café d'amour
A/n: my entry to @firefly-in-darkness 's challenge. Thank you for letting me enter! I left it to the last minute once again, but! This time it's not late so... fingers crossed next time I'm early xxx
Proof read with a text-speech device.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader (gender neutral)
Word count: 3537
Warnings: none! :]
Plot: Maybe covering a friends shift in a city park coffee kiosk won't be too bad if it means running into a certain super soldier.
coffee-shop sort of au, fluff and more fluff.
Masterlist
*****
The machine humming quietly in the corner of the tiny hut seems to be mocking you, a constant reminder of just how out of your depth you are. People who think working in a coffee shop, or in your case, a take-out kiosk, is easy, should try it for a day and see if their opinion changes. This is so far away from your usual job, safe and warm re-shelving books in the colleges library, but a promise is a promise, so you've just got to suck it up for the next few weeks and hope you don't mess anyone’s orders up too badly.
Peter is going to owe you big time after this.
When he'd asked you to cover for him in his small business, you had agreed without properly thinking about what time of year it is, and how cold the wind can be when you're stood still in it for hours on end. Two days in and your hands have aged about ten years from the combination of frequent washing and the icy air, and the layers of thermals you've got on under your uniform fleece and matching joggers are making you look a little rounder than you actually are, you couldn't care less though as long as you are warm. The water heater provides a little warmth, leaking through to your skin if you press up against it, but you've found the best way to escape the freezing gusts is to crouch down below the counter when the queues have diminished.
That's where you are now, half heartedly straightening the packets of treats, getting distracted by the many different types of cookies and brownies, and not keeping an eye out for potential customers.
“Hello? Is this self-serve or what?”
The voice startles you, so close without warning, almost like they crept up on you. Hopping up quickly, you hover your hands under the sanitiser and rub them together as you collect yourself and prepare your speech.
“Hello! Sorry! Hello,” You start again, marginally calmer, “Welcome to-”
That's as far as you get, not even able to ask what they 'fancy today?' before the customer interrupts.
“Just a coffee. Black. No fancy milks or syrups or anything, no cakes or anything extra. Just coffee, okay?”
Finally looking up from your now dry hands, you take in the man who has placed such a blunt order. He's attractive enough, the little you can see underneath his hat, something about him familiar to you, his tone definitely one you've got used to over the past day or so, though he's not anywhere close to the rudest person you've served.
You smile pleasantly, in the disarming way you've learnt. “Okay, just coffee, got it. And a name for the cup?”
He looks around at the lack of other customers. “Is that necessary?”
Laughing self-consciously, you say, “Probably. If it gets busy I'd hate for it to get mixed up. I'm new.”
“Ah.” He tuts. “James.”
“James, cool. That'll be a few minutes.”
As you grab a pen to write his name on the sleeve of a cup, he shuffles off to the side, adjusting his hat as he does, and when his coat slips a bit down his left arm your mind goes blank. He's not paying attention to you so your staring goes unnoticed as you realise why you thought he was familiar earlier, wondering how it didn't click when he said his name, but then again wrapped up in his scarf and gloves it's not surprising. You're guessing he doesn't want to be recognised right now, hence the use of his real, less known name, so before he can catch your mild freak-out you look away and messily scribble on the side of his cup.
Even a simple order can be a struggle for you, and now, slightly flustered from serving the Winter Soldier, you make sure to double check the measurements before you start, concentrating hard to make the greatest cup of coffee he's ever had. There's a reason this kiosk has a reputation for the best hot drinks in the park and you aren't about to ruin it by messing up the order of Captain America's best friend.
Breathing a sigh of relief as you place the lid on top of the perfectly brewed coffee, you tap it against the table to get his attention. “Here you go. The machines ready.”
Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he swipes his card to pay then grabs the cup off the counter, murmurs something that could have been a 'thanks' and takes off along the dim path leading him deeper into the park.
“Well.” Huffing as you lean against the glass front of the booth, you watch his retreating form with a small frown. He wasn't anything like you thought he might. The media has built him up to be some sort of tragic figure, one to be feared and pitied in equal measure, but all you saw was yet another city dweller on a quest for caffeine.
At least now you have a story to tell from your time working in the coffee kiosk, aside from the ones about frozen fingers and half-spilt drinks.
*****
The next day he's back, around the same time in the afternoon, as the daylight is dying and the street lights are flickering into life, about an hour before closing. You're finishing up a complicated order for a group of friends when you notice him standing away from the small crowd, waiting for them to leave before he approaches.
“I want a coffee like yesterday,” He says, adding as though an after thought, “Please.”
“One black coffee?” You confirm.
He nods, watching closely as you locate the pen to write on his cup. Before you can even open the cap, he's butting in. “Why don't you have a name tag?”
You freeze, confused. Meeting his eye, you flush under the intense way he's staring you down. “Why don't I-?”
“You see, I have a very good memory, despite my age. I distinctly remember telling you my name is James, so imagine my surprise seeing my nickname written on my cup when I looked properly.”
His expression is not giving away any clues on how he feels about this invasion of privacy. Heart racing, you search for the right words to apologise, and convince him you're not some crazy stalker.
There's no chance to speak as he's continuing. “So I thought I'd come back today and find out your name, then we'd be even. But you don't have a badge on. Why not?”
“I'm so sorry,” You breathe, unsure what more you can say. “I swear I'm not a weirdo, I just recognised you yesterday and I must have written the wrong name by accident.” A beat of silence, then you propose a way to make it right, “How about free coffee for life?”
He laughs, a glorious sound in the crisp air, and your shoulders relax at the genuinely happy noise. “Aren't you new? Are you allowed to make promises like that?”
Wincing, you admit, “Probably not. But when I explain it to Peter I'm sure he'll understand.”
“Peter?”
You start working on his drink as you talk. “He owns this place. And normally works this shift, I'm only covering whilst he's away.”
“Oh.” The hissing of steam drowns out his next sentence, you only catch the last half, “-here how long?”
“Couple of weeks, maybe? Not too long hopefully. You'll have a professional barista back soon, don't worry.”
“I think you're doing fine.”
The words are spoken so softly, such a contrast from how you thought this conversation would end, and the shock has you fumbling with the finished cup of coffee, nearly spilling the scolding liquid all over your fingers.
“Careful.”
Taking the cup from you, his hand lingers against yours for a moment too long and you force yourself to stand up straighter and away from his touch. The last thing you want is to become a horrible cliché, falling for a customer after a few sweet lines.
He grabs a few napkins to wipe the cup dry, then looks expectantly at the card machine.
“I meant it, free for life,” You say, determined.
Shaking his head, he roots around in his pockets, pulling out a couple of notes and sliding them across the counter towards you. “Old fashioned money it is then. I didn't mean to come across as angry earlier, or yesterday, thinking about it. Sorry about the whole,” He waves his hand around vaguely, “Murderous vibe I give off, or whatever Sam calls it.”
He rolls his eyes fondly when talking about his team mate, and you giggle as you reassure him. “You didn't look murderous, just a bit like you might sue me.”
“Ugh.” He wrinkles his nose. “Not really my style.”
Your bank balance is thankful. “And to answer your question, I'm Y/N.”
Blowing on to the top of his drink, he takes several steps back, all whilst keeping eye contact. “Well then Y/N, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”
“I'll be here.”
With that, Bucky waves goodbye with a wide smile, disappearing into the dusk as you wonder just how much trouble he's going to be.
*****
The kind of trouble you don't mind, you find out when you run in to him again the next day, a lot earlier than you imagined. In an attempt to keep yourself warm for the long hours stood in the open, with only a waist high counter between you and the frozen air, you've taken to walking around the park before you are due to start, so the heat generated by the exercise keeps you warm for at least a proportion of your shift.
The sunshine is deceptive this afternoon, doing nothing to raise the temperature as you wander around the edge of the lake. Lost in thought, a sudden shout from behind makes you jump.
“Hey, Y/N! Wait up.”
Turning around, you struggle to place the voice as you scan the few people also on this side of the park. None of them are even looking in your direction, let alone trying to draw your attention, and you're about to continue on your way thinking you must have misheard when a body nearly crashes into yours. This is not an image you ever thought you would see; the Winter Soldier panting to catch his breath after jogging up to you, all because you're on first name terms and not because you've suddenly turned to a life of crime.
“Bucky?”
At your bemused tone, his face drops. “Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. If you want to be alone, I can go, I just thought-”
“No! No, it's okay. I don't mind a bit of company.”
You share a smile, and he lets you take the lead back along the small track, winding its way between the trees and the water.
He breaks the silence a few meters along. “So, what do you normally do?”
“Me? Err,” You pause, trying to think of how to make yourself sound interesting to someone who spends his life side by side with superheroes and literal gods. Sighing in defeat as you conclude you're always going to be boring in comparison, you mumble, “I work in the library where I'm also a student.”
Bucky doesn't appear to think you're dull. “That's cool!” He says, like he means it. “I miss being in school.”
“So did I, so when I got the chance I went back. I'm a bit older than most of the students-”
He snorts. “I know how that feels.”
“But I'm determined to get my degree this time.”
“I'm sure you will.” He grins at you and you're inexplicably filled with hope that he's right. “And after? Do you know what you want to do once you've graduated?”
You shake your head. “Right now all I'm focused on is passing exams and submitting essays on time. I'll think about the future when it's closer.”
“That's fair. Nothing wrong with waiting to figure things out.” More reassurance from this relative stranger. You didn't know how much you needed it until just now.
“Most people say I need a ten year plan or something.”
“Most people are wrong. But,” He pauses, and you hold your breath as you anticipate his words. “Can I suggest if you go into business, maybe don't start off by offering life time free supplies at the drop of a hat?”
Two minutes in to this 'friendship' and he's already teasing you? What is going on? Turning your face away so he can't see your stupid grin at this turn of events, you really would believe this is some sort of perfect daydream if it wasn't for the all too real frozen mist clinging to your coat and the ends of your hair.
“I'll try to remember that, thanks.”
Dodging a puddle in the middle of the path, you're trying to come up with a witty retort to impress him when your phone buzzes in your pocket.
“If you need to get that-”
“Oh, no. It's only my alarm to remind me not to wander too far from work before I need to start.”
“Soon?”
“Yeah.”
“I'll walk you back, then.”
Not wanting to leave his side quite yet, you let him accompany you back through the trees, but you refuse his offer to carry you across a muddy part of the path where the stream has burst it's banks. Flushing as he laughs at your careful steps, you manage to get across without completely ruining your shoes, informing him you've learnt the hard way that these trails aren't exactly 'white trainer friendly' as the kiosk looms into view.
Relieving the worker from the morning shift, you rearrange the counter back to the way you like it before any customers turn up, watching Bucky hovering nearby until you give him a questioning look.
He clears his throat. “If I came this way the same time tomorrow, would I bump into you then?”
The hopeful look he gives you would be enough for you that, even if this walk wasn't part of your daily routine already, you would have made it so in order to see his again.
“Uh huh. Are you planning too?”
“Whenever I come with Sam, we always end up getting recognised with the way he can't keep his voice down. It's nice not having that sort of attention. So if you don't mind?”
“I don't mind.” A patron approaches and reluctantly you turn away, sending a quiet promise to your new friend. “See you tomorrow, Bucky.”
*****
The days past so fast now they're full of work, both at the kiosk and in the library, trying to study, and, most importantly, walking with Bucky every afternoon. Some days the two of you talk the whole way, conversation flowing so easily you're amazed at how honest you are, like you've never been with anyone before, and other days you walk together in relative quiet, completely comfortable in each others presence.
Falling for him is the quickest and easiest thing you've ever done. Dealing with your feelings, however, might be somewhat harder.
With the lighter evenings comes the message that Peter is finally on his way home and soon you'll be free of your second job. It feels like a bolt from the blue, to be reminded that this is only temporary and in not too long you will no longer have an excuse to see Bucky.
You mention it to him a week before your last shift.
“Isn't that good?”
“I guess.” Your reply is short and unenthusiastic, changing the subject quickly to hide how heartbroken you are.
Time moves too fast, and before you know it you're greeting him on that last day, taken aback as he presents you with a small cardboard box, which when you take it, is much heavier than it looks. “Natasha gave it to me for you. Apparently it's really good for your hands. I thought you could try it? Now you won't have to wash them constantly?”
Scanning the sides reveals that it contains a moisturiser, from some luxury brand you've never even thought to try, too far out of your price range. “Oh, this is too much, I can't take-”
“Yes you can.”
“Let me give you something-”
Gently tugging your hand back out of your bag, he stops you from grabbing your purse by enclosing his gloved fingers around yours. When he doesn't let go, instead pulling you along and down towards your now usual route, you let him, gaping at the back of his head before coming to your senses and squeezing his hand in a kind of thanks.
“This is a very kind present.”
He shrugs it off. “It's nothing. When it's your birthday or something, then I'll get you a proper present. Presents, plural,” He emphasises as your eyes widen at the thought. “Nah, this is just one of the hundreds of products Natasha gets sent in the vain hope she'll provide the companies with some free advertising. Better you have it than it go to waste.”
It still feels like a gift to you. “Well then, thank you for thinking of me.”
“Always.” The implication of that one word would have been entirely missed if it wasn't for the panicked look on Bucky's face as he corrects himself. “I... I mean, of course.”
Stopping in the middle of the path, your joined hands cause him to halt too and the atmosphere grows tense as you stare at each other, unsure where to start. The minutes haven't stopped ticking down until you're due on your last shift, and with the implication that comes with hanging over you like a dark cloud, now seems just as good a time as any to bring it up.
You hesitantly begin. “Bucky, can I say something?”
Mutely, he gestures for you to proceed.
“Right, so you know today's my last day at the kiosk, at least until Peter goes away again, so, that means I won't have a reason to walk around here any more. Or I won't, unless...”
“Unless?”
“Unless I do. Unless you still want to come around the park with me, even if it's for no more reason than simply going for a walk?”
“I'd love that.”
The relief that flows though you as he agrees is almost physical, gripping onto his hand in yours just a little tighter.
Feeling brave, you dare to push your luck. “And if it was more than just a walk?”
It takes a moment, but then you see the realisation dawning on his face, a slow smirk appearing as he takes a step into your space. “More?”
You know he knows what you mean, that he's playing with you. That doesn't soothe your doubts though, hoping beyond hope that you're not misinterpreting his teasing.
“Yeah. More.”
Letting go of your hand in order to bring one arm around your waist and pull you closer, your own come to rest against his lapels as he dips his head down.
“I think I'd like more,” He whispers.
You swallow as his gaze slips to your mouth, sinking in his embrace as his lips brush against yours, so soft and brief it barely registers,
Moving back to put a bit of room between the two of you, his thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth as you pout sadly.
“You can have another one once you've finished tonight. Maybe. Or maybe you'll have to wait until after our date tomorrow.”
You frown. “Tomorrow?”
“Yep. If you're free?”
“Always.” Repeating his earlier phrase with a sly smile, you turn around to continue along the track, leaving him speechless for a second before he rushes to fall into step.
His arm slides through yours. “So, is it okay to wait for you tonight?”
“You've just kissed me and you're still asking that?”
“I'm just checking.” When you don't answer he presses, “Is it? I don't want to impose.”
'Too late for my heart', you think but don't say, not wanting to scare him off, instead nodding in reply and leaning into his side as you wind your way through the woodland path. The fear you had felt this morning at potentially having to say goodbye to Bucky feels like a distant memory, and as you watch the sunlight dance across his hair you realise you could never have let today be the last. You started this job reluctantly and now, instead of Peter owing you for the favour, it seems you owe him.
Peter doesn't needs to know just yet, you decide.
That usually particularly muddy part of the path has become even muddier after the overnight rain, and this time you allow him to pick you up in his arms and carry you across, feeling its finally appropriate now your relationship has changed. Setting you down on the other side, he presses a kiss to your forehead almost absent-mindedly, and your tummy does a flip as you take a second or two to admire his profile.
You sigh happily. So much for not becoming a cliché.
*****
Thank you for reading!! Masterlist
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aetheternity · 3 years
Text
I'll admit it's exciting (P2)
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Synopsis: Being your professor's dirty little secret. His pet.. Sounded too good to refuse.
Warning: Smut in the later chapters! 18+ only
"He kissed me!"
"You know what they were wrong, 1,547th time is the charm." Eren picked up a new much rounder stone then the one he'd been holding previously. He quickly chucked the object getting about three and a half splashes before it went under.
"They who??" Sasha questioned
"They the people of society, Sasha." Mikasa replied
It was virtually impossible to remember any of the events of Friday. Ever since that kiss you'd basically lost a day of your life to your protruding thoughts. Now on a perfectly crisp Saturday like today you'd spent all day hanging out with Eren, Mikasa and Sasha as god intended. It was a ritual after all. The four of you coming down to the river together if you weren't all busy with homework and just discussing life events and skipping stones.
"It just came outta nowhere and it was so sudden!" You pout, resting your head on your knee.
"Just don't say it like that in court. You wouldn't want his little puppy to be homeless when he loses his job." Sasha patted your shoulder and you sent her a glare.
"I thought the puppy didn't live with him." Mikasa said, skipping a stone that went twice as far as Eren's to his own annoyance.
"Meanwhile that isn't the important part." Eren interjected "You have to take this to the higher ups you know."
"Please Eren, this is no time to think responsibly."
Mikasa giggled at the scrunched up look on Eren's face as she picked up a stone with both hands. One that was almost bigger than her torso.
"Mikasa, that one isn't going to skip." Eren said, trying to pry it from her grasp.
"Well, what do you want to do then?" Sasha questioned with an eyebrow raise.
"Huh?"
"I mean you clearly don't want to rat him out and you think he's hot so why not try to date him?"
"Cause she can't Sasha. It's against university policy." Eren replied turning away from Mikasa as she let the rock go. "And it's kinda gross."
When Mikasa chucked the rock in her arms the force was honestly intimidating. Surprisingly enough it managed to skip. Hitting the water once against the surface before sinking into the bright blue river.
"But I want to so baaaaadddd."
Eren rolled his eyes. "Well I mean if you go to the dean with that logic he'll probably allow it."
"Stupid sarcastic fuck.." You whispered with a huff.
"Mikasa, come on help me out here." Eren sighed turning to Mikasa who simply shrugged reaching for a new rock with one hand. "Thanks.." He mumbled
Sasha let out a loud sigh as she plopped down next to you. Scattering the rocks with her feet. "I'm hungry." She announced, resting her head on your shoulder.
Eren flipped the bag strapped to his back around digging in it for a couple seconds before tossing Sasha and you a sandwich and a bottle of lukewarm water.
"Yes!! You're amazing Eren!!" Sasha delighted
"Thanks.." You muttered, turning the baggie with the sandwich in it over in your hand.
Eren walked over plopping the bag between his legs and raising an arm to place over your shoulders.
"College is about new experiences." Mikasa said as she stood in front of you. "If you're not in a rush you'll find something to get excited over."
"Sleeping with a professor is a new experience that would excite anyone." Sasha said inbetween bites immediately getting flicked by Eren.
A mocking sob left your lips, interspersed with a couple snorts as you raised a hand up for Sasha that she instantly high fived.
~~~~
Somehow you'd managed to come to class on Tuesday and not hear a word of the lecture. Barely paying attention to your work as you read the same question over and over again and everytime he looked at you.... Dammit was he staring? Were you staring??
How could he sit there in that bright blue shirt? A shirt that matched his eyes so much so that they made their gorgeousness that much more enticing. You could feel your cheeks become pink as the memory of his lips drifting back like a curse. It made you grip your pen a little tighter, squeeze your thighs together a little-
"Hey.." You peeked up at the almost intimidating gaze he had set on you that had your heart racing. And wow your chest was definitely moving a lot faster. "The class ended." He muttered
Was he talking lower??
"Sorry.."
"Don't be."
He inched a little closer. The tip of his nose hovering just above the bridge of yours. His breath cold where it hit your skin. But then he was backing away.
"I promise you i'm not the kind of guy who preys on his students. I promise, seriously I.. normally don't but-"
"No-no.." You chuckled to break the tension. "No, I didn't think-don't think you would." It came off more as a question.
"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable." He sighed, leaning his head back where he stood. "I just had to do that at least once. It's not excusing it I know it's wrong and I won't ever do it again. I don't know what got into me."
Your eyes grew a little wider with every word that spilled off his lips. Fingers clutching the black pen in your grasp just a little harder.
"I said yes!" You announced a little too loud in the empty classroom. "I said yes.. when you asked."
"Y-yes, you did." His flushed cheeks made him effortlessly more adorable. Pink stretching over the bridge of his nose.
"I like you a lot already Mr. Arlert." You admitted staring deeply at each tile on the floor.
"Call me, Armin."
"Armin." You repeated
"It's still unprofessional."
"No one has to know."
He let out a loud exhale, pacing towards his desk before coming to stand in front of you. "I can't date you. I'll get in trouble."
"No one has to know."
He was standing directly in front of you. Arms on each side of you boxing your hips in. "It's still-"
You pecked his whispering lips in a moment of weakness. Arm falling over his back and trailing down the shirt you kinda wanted to rip off now.
"Wrong." He finished
"I won't tell." You giggled, pushing his gorgeous blonde locks away only for them to flop back over his once exposed forehead.
When he stepped back it caused your heartbeat to practically fly from your ribcage. The once quiet room being quickly bombarded with the next class and you hoped you didn't look as dazed and flushed as you felt. You leaned over the desk to grab your bag and just as soon Armin was standing beside you again.
"My office.." He whispered "It's on your syllabus, the room number and floor." And with those last words he was flooding out like a decapitated chicken.
Did he mean?? No he couldn't have?? Your brain wracked the second you'd left the crowding room.
He couldn't be suggesting?..
Without a second thought you ripped your bag open, wrenching your folder from the small compartment inside. With a quick flip it was open though a couple of your papers spilled out. You gripped the misplaced papers searching over the syllabus.
Downstairs.
For the first time since you'd seen it during your first college tour and started your first day you took the stairs. Bolting around and almost through passersby going in the opposite direction.
You didn't even know if he'd get there before you and at this speed he might not but you were trekking so quickly until you'd finally reached the door. Slowed to a walk as you turned the corner passing people carrying papers and flipping through thick binders as they walked.
You slowed even further, walking past a couple of desks some with people typingaway on computers and some completely empty. Your chest was pretty much ready to explode once you'd stopped at the last door at the end of the hall. Copy maker and small plant decorating the mostly empty space.
It only took two hesitant knocks for you to get pulled in. Gasping as your back hit the back of the door with a small yelp and the light thud of your skull.
His thumbs held your head in place as he dipped his face close to yours. Every bit of his breath tickling your lips. So warm where they teased you. You brought both hands up to curve over the back of his neck gripping his head almost tightly until he was pressing his lips onto yours with a roughness he hadn't exuded the first time.
"Mm.. what's that?" You giggled, pulling back.
His breath was so intoxicating and as much as you were begging for more your curiosity always won over other emotions. "What's what?" He replied
You pulled his hand back from your face immediately delighted in the smooth cold steel between your fingers as you held one of the rings cuddlinghis index finger.
"My rings." He replied, pressing back against your mouth with gentle hunger. "I don't like to wear them in class anymore cause the girls ask too many questions." He traced his lips past your cheek. And towards your outstreched chin giving it a little suck that made you whimper.
"Questions.." Your breathed in affirmation.
His teeth grazed the skin of your chin teasing exactly where he wanted to leave marks as he left more splayed kisses. "That and.. I don't like typing with them on."
His hands were back on your cheeks now. Grip a little looser against your face. His tongue drifted forward towards your lips. Breath catching a bit as he tasted you for the first time. A moan slipped from your open mouth, the sigh from his lips unbelievably pleasurable.
"Do you like them?" He whispered against your open lips.
"Mm?" You could barely muster.
His tongue crested over yours, pressing it further back into your mouth. You only had a second to press back before he'd retreated to pressing the tip of his tongue against the roof of your mouth. And then he was pushing his tongue back against yours pulling it forward and then pressing it back.
"My.. rings." He breathed between kisses. Right against your lips. Stealing your oxygen while barely reacting on his side. "You like them?.."
"Mmhm.."
He let out a little giggle, blonde hair a complicated mess against yours and his forehead. He pressed in as close as he could be with each sweet kiss. One. Two. Three.
"Let me take you out ok?"
When you didn't answer he pulled back ignoring your little whimper. Blue eyes blown and dark right in the middle as he stared into the depths of you.
"Wanna take you out." He almost slurred "Ok?"
"Mm ok.."
He rewarded your efforts to speak with a deep kiss. One that filled your chest while simultaneously causing your heat to combust. Your body smothered by his, grip tight where it grabbed onto the back of his shirt and neck. His own hand on your chin with just his thumb and index finger to guide you.
"Where do you wanna go?" His free hand moved to press against the door. "Where do you want me to take you?"
You pulled back, air lost on you and face seething with heat. "How do you expect me to answer when you just had your tongue down my throat?"
He shakes his head with a breathy chuckle that finally proves how the kiss has been effecting his own body. "Sorry. So?"
"I-I don't know.."
"Mm. My pick then, I promise I'll take you somewhere good."
~~~~
"Don't tell Eren.."
"Mm." Sasha replied
You'd gone straight to Sasha's room the second you'd left Armin's office and now you were laying on her floor while she scarfed down a pound cake next to you.
"I made out with him in his office.. and we planned a date.."
Sasha paused with a raised eyebrow. "What about Mikasa's whole find another reason to be invested in college thing?"
"Ok, I never said I'd do that."
She nodded, "Eren's gonna kill you.."
"No! Look the reason it's just me and you here and not Mikasa and Eren too is because I don't need his judgement!" You pouted, pulling your legs into your chest as Sasha took a new bite from her cake.
"How was he?"
"God his lips were so soft and breathtaking. I was suffocating in the best way."
"Tongue?"
"His tongue is the reason my thighs are shaking like this." You pulled back, resting the backs of your hands on the ground as your leg continued the uncontrollable shivering it'd been doing since you'd left Armin's office.
"Oh, well that explains one of my questions." Sasha said with a smile. "New question, how the hell do you plan on hiding this from Eren?"
"He's my friend not my dad I don't need to hide it or get his permission."
Sasha paused mid bite. "But.. you didn't invite him here to listen to your date plans??"
"Who's side are you on?"
"I believe the correct answer is yours!" She beams as you brush her hair back from her face with your fingers. She stuffs the last of the cake into her mouth as you continue, "I mean I'm not hiding it. I just wanna be happy in this and Eren will ruin it. People say you shouldn't tell your friends about things you know they'll ruin."
"Society?"
"Huh?" Sasha stared up at you from where she'd moved to relax her head in your lap. "Yeah sure Sasha society.."
Sasha hummed as you slowly combed her hair from its ponytail. "So where's the date anyway?"
"He hasn't told me yet but he said it'll be special."
~~~~
You hadn't properly talked to Armin since you'd both kissed in his office but he had your phone number. Not that he texted you much (to your own annoyance.) But on Friday he did. Told you to come outside at almost 12am with a quick apology text underneath with praying hands hoping he hadn't woken you.
You got dressed pretty casually. V neck t-shirt and jeans with your best looking pair of sneakers before heading down stairs where Armin stood in his own casual white tee (that accented his biceps.) And some standard looking black jeans.
"I thought about it for a little too long huh?" He smiled holding out a thin piece of cloth. "Just until we get there." He assured
You couldn't stop snickering with each step you took. Sparks racing up and down your spine as Armin held your waist.
"What's so funny?"
"Hmm.. I don't know I just figured I'd have to wait till at least the third date to be blindfolded."
He paused and you held your breath. "N-no it's not like that.. I normally don't do this but it has to be a surprise."
You laughed away his tension. "No no I figured." You would honestly give anything to see his face right now.
You could tell the terrain had changed as soon as you felt grass tickling the backs of your ankles and you reached out to him as the feeling of falling started to take you.
"It's ok. We're almost there."
You managed to grab his wrist and the breathy laugh on your neck made your skin practically spark.
"Don't worry I won't let you fall." He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you were both gradually slowing until he'd stopped you.
He carefully untucked the blindfold making sure he didn't tangle your hair as he pulled it off your face. It slowly unraveled and tickled your skin revealing the cutest picnic set up. A small green blanket draped over the ground with tiny lanterns sprinkled around the spread and a basket right in the middle.
A container leaned against one side of the basket while another blanket rested on the other side. A folded white one with green stripes spreading over it.
"Come sit."
"This is so beautiful." You remarked, careful not to jostle the set up as you sat. "You should've told me I would've dressed nicer."
He shook his head, "The point of this was so you'd be your most normal self. So just be you ok." He held out a glass which you instantly took as he poured the liquid from the jug in his lap into your cup. "Sorry I didn't ask you what your favorite foods were.. I wanted it to be a surprise so I spent most of this week preparing."
"Armin.." You exhaled softly reaching out for his hand. He flinched away for just a second and then he was back, flipping his hand around for you to hold it.
"Let's lie down ok?"
"Mm."
"Unless you're really hungry." He offered looking at you as his head plopped back on the grass.
"No no I'm ok I promise. I ate not too long ago." You replied leaning your head back until it made contact with slightly dewy grass.
He hummed in affirmation, rubbing his thumbs over each of your knuckles individually. "Then all this food might have been too much." He chuckled
"I mean we can eat it sometime." You whispered rolling you head over to face him. He slowly did the same and it had quickly turned into a staring contest.
"I don't really feel like I should ask you about college." He started "I mean you must talk about it enough seeing as that's all people ever seem to ask about once you're there."
"Mmhm." You snickered
"Tell me something random."
You stared up in mock contemplation before a soft smile played at your lips. "Well, I'm really into my college professor.."
He laughed, "Not college related!"
"So I started dating this guy.."
"Ugggghhh!"
At this point you were both stuck in a small fit of giggles. Once he'd relaxed a little he threaded his fingers through yours squeezing both your hands impossibly tightly and then bringing the back of your hand up to his lips for a quick peck.
"You're wearing the rings." You said, turning your adjoined hands over and sliding your thumb over the one on his index finger.
"I couldn't help but remember, this girl likes them a lot."
"Where'd you originally get them anyway?"
He blinked not taking his eyes off your face slowly turning more serious. "Well.. I had this friend and she told me I had perfect fingers for rings so she got me these for my birthday."
"By friend you mean ex?"
He slowly nodded, "Hope that doesn't make them less pretty. I just couldn't get rid of them. Not because I still have feelings! Don't think that I just I really like them!"
You huffed hoping it came off playfully and not the way you felt you looked right now. "I've thought of something awesome to talk about."
"Mm?"
"What'd you wanna be when you grew up?" You smiled as he wrinkled his nose trying to prevent the very clear smile forming on his face.
"It's not that interesting.."
"Please don't say teacher. Please don't say teacher. Please don't say teacher." You beamed crossing your fingers on your free hand.
He playfully shoved you, "No! Close a surfer dude!"
You blinked in confusion bringing your cup up to your lips and taking a sip before repositioning yourself to be up on one elbow. "Huh??"
"You asked." He replied mimicking your actions.
"I did.. why did I do that again?"
He scoffed, "Gonna listen to my reason?"
"I'm here right?"
"When I was younger my mom used to love the beach. She had little ships in a bottle on her dresser, multi colored towels in the bathroom and a surfboard necklace with her initials engraved on it. When I was five she took me surf boarding for the first time." Armin reached into the basket holding out a loaf of bread which you cautiously bit off of.
"I was terrified, I cried so much and I fell over and scraped my knee. I fell over so much that day I'm still surprised she didn't give up on me. I didn't get it down that day or at all till I was eight and I rode my first wave and then crashed and had to be rescued by her. But by then I was able to laugh even while I was coughing up water."
He slowly pressed the bread to your lips once more as he let out a slow breath. "Once I hit ten her and my father had passed away in a plane crash and I vowed to be a surfer partially because of her. But I couldn't pick it up again after, no matter how easy I thought it would be."
You chewed through the new bite you'd taken. "Oh Armin, I'm sorry."
He shook his head, "It happened so long ago. And from then on I was raised by my grandparents so the story has a happy ending."
"In a way.." You muttered laying back on the grass.
"Sorry.." He sighed, placing the bread on a napkin by you and laying back down. "I shouldn't have told that story, it always makes people sad for me."
"No no, I'm not sad for you I'm glad your mom's life is a happy memory for you. Enough so that you can laugh while saying you wanted to be a surfer dude." You giggled
"Yeah yeah I know."
"It's not a bad thing."
"No I know."
"It's just-" You continued to laugh, holding your stomach. "I'm sorry it's just.. it's not surfer.. it's surfer dude." You cackled
"Well technically my dad suggested I say lifeguard so that was my true calling." You exhaled with a sigh, laughter slowly dissolving into the night air. "Cold?" He offered you the blanket and you quickly draped it over his shoulders too squeezing him in closer despite the objects between you both.
A comfortable silence slowly drifted in and you could swear in the distance you heard a soft hoot. Definitely ridiculous assumptions but you looked over at him.
"I just wanna stay here." You squeezed his hand under the blanket.
"Me too."
You looked back up at the night sky. "What if we slept here."
"We can't."
"Yeah.. I know."
A new silence fell over the two of you for a couple seconds and you could hear the sound of Armin's breathing slowing. "The stars are gorgeous tonight.." You mutter looking over at him. His eyelids shut for just a minute before he turned his head, cheeks immediately flushing pink as his droopy gaze fell over your face.
"Yeah.. yeah they are."
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