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agendabymooner · 10 months

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of long lines and names || cl16 fic

charles leclerc x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

Summary: Aimee Yael and Charles Leclerc are too young to have five kids under six, but those boys became the life and memories that the couple wanted to keep forever. OR a series of scenarios during Aimee’s pregnancies that Charles remembered the most.

Content warning: Pregnancies with twins/five kids, dad!Charles and the grid uncles, based on Charles’ long name, a crying Charles, mentions of Anthoine Hubert, Niki Lauda, Jules Bianchi and the Leclerc dad (nothing too graphic nor personal, mostly based on their names only), loss/grief, Toto being a d-bag for a moment, possible use of explicit language, family-centric/dad!Charles-centric content, mentions of other Hearth sisters children (Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen)

Note: This will be a flop but I love these fictional Hearth-Leclerc kids. I love all of their kids! In fact, I have a series of spreadsheets dedicated to the Hearth sisters, and other characters and the names of their babies. Enjoy xx

masterlist

2024 — Hervé Louis Sebastien René Mathieu and Jules Lorenzo Blaise Pascal Timothé Leclerc

Aimee Yael Edmunson (Hearth) had never been stressed before. She had no reason to be. As a woman from a wealthy family — the granddaughter of Scottish billionaires and a daughter of an FIA executive — she had no reason to stress over the little things that were in the area of her control. Like her half-sisters, she had the money and intelligence to handle things well.

All except for the two little things in her womb that were continuously developing as the fourth month of her pregnancy went on. It was hard to hide it from everyone if you were to ask her. She had already spoken to her mother about carrying this amount of children in one go— Amara Louise Edmunson had only given birth to one child, and it was her. Nobody knew the struggle, but her mother had comforted her as much as she could.

Aimee was calm despite the disaster that happened to be an unplanned pregnancy, her rational mind thinking that she shouldn’t be in some form of distress or discomfort to avoid any complications in her body.

Her boyfriend, Charles Leclerc, thought otherwise.

When her body hit the ninth-week mark, there was already a tiny bump that someone might have seen as bloated. A natural one, no? But Charles was known to overthink things, and when he somehow got his prediction right, he had never cried so hard about having not only one— but two kids. He cried as if he was the one with the uncontrollable hormones. Aimee watched him cry empathetically, feeling grateful that she didn’t have this much anxiety that could risk her health and her babies. Still, she wondered if the tears he shredded were tears of joy or something else.

Charles said he was happy, but at the same time, he thought of how their families would react— minus Pascale, Blanche and Amara.

When her body hit the seventeenth-week mark, they couldn’t hide it from their families any longer, hosting a dinner at their home in Monaco where Aimee did all of the cooking. Everything she made were cravings that became stronger as her first few weeks of pregnancy went on—rice, pasta and somehow a good selection of desserts and pastries that Charles ordered before the dinner.

Welcoming each family member into the house wasn’t the most significant part of the dinner. The maternal figures of Charles and Aimee’s lives — Pascale, Amara and Blanche Ford — were on standby just in case someone decided to act differently towards the two.

Stevie and Lewis Hamilton were clearly (too obviously) shocked at the protrusion in Aimee’s stomach but hadn’t made any comment on it for a while. They merely spoke about their daughter Lottie, who would cuddle with Roscoe whenever her little crawling body approached him. They were talking about their child, all while their eyes peered down on Aimee’s growing body.

Sylvie and her fiancé Max Verstappen were surprised. Still, the model had managed to pass off her shock as excitement over the invitation to the couple’s new home before she tried to maneuver through the huge bump in the road— or rather, in Aimee’s body. Max tried asking Pascale and Amara about it by mouthing, “Is she actually?” only to receive a glare from them. Blanche scolded him quietly to keep it shut while she served him a drink.

Charles dreaded inviting his brothers into his new home because they always picked their timing. When Arthur and Lorenzo Leclerc saw Aimee’s bulging figure, they immediately turned away and snorted aloud. Charles wasn’t this anxious about anything as exciting as this, but Arthur’s offhanded comment, “I’ll be attending your funeral when Toto finds out,” definitely had him recoiling. Pascale had to smack both her other children for scaring Charles off. Aimee nearly cried on the spot when Arthur made the joke, to which Charles returned to his composure and glared at his youngest brother for making her feel so shitty.

The mentioned man and his wife were met at the front by the three maternal figures. Toto Wolff wasn’t typically this intimidated. He was usually level-headed, but how they stared at him while they welcomed the couple left him asking what was happening. Tilly seemed to sense some sort of protectiveness towards whatever it was, and when she had gotten a glimpse of it, her eyes sparkled at the sight of Charles’ hand over her little sister’s stomach. She wordlessly grinned before tugging her husband down on a seat right across the two.

Toto couldn’t say a word if he were being truthful. The moment his eyes settled on the bulging stomach, his glare toward the Monegasque driver hardened. This was Toto’s nightmare, but it wasn’t as if he could just say that in front of the most overprotective women to have existed. So he threatened Charles wordlessly, passing words back and forth with other people while he glared at the Ferrari driver whenever he piped up.

“So…” Toto started after finishing what seemed to be his second wine of the night. “Aimee, you’re pregnant. How long?”

“Uh,” Aimee shifted uncomfortably, scared even to look Toto in the eyes. “Seven- seventeen weeks.”

“She’s seventeen weeks and four days—“ Charles was thrilled. He was. But the stare that Toto gave him immediately had his mouth shut as he looked back and only settled to hold his girlfriend’s hands underneath the table. “Four days,” he murmured to himself.

“So explain how,” Lorenzo started but had given up halfway through, gesturing at Aimee’s stomach, “how has she grown this much if she’s only that much?”

“Yeah, about that,” Charles’ grin widened continuously as he announced, “We’re having twins.”

Aimee and Charles’ siblings were cheering for the couple as a series of hollering escaped their mouths. Pascale, Blanche and Amara were grinning from ear to ear while Toto… he was a man that was hard to please.

“Two?” Toto uttered, already pouring himself another glass of cabernet sauvignon. “And you two are… getting married?”

“What?” Arthur blurted out with an incredulous look, shooting in Toto’s direction. Sylvie and Stevie looked at each other, asking themselves, ‘what the fuck is he on?’

“Uh no,” Charles nervously laughed, but no one seemed to understand the memo when Toto glared at him as the Monegasque muttered, “but I suppose this is a wrong answer to say aloud.”

“We’re not going to get hitched,” Aimee laughed in confusion, “why do we have to?”

“Because you’re pregnant?”

“Do we have to get married?” Aimee looked at Tilly for some help.

Tilly, sensing the discomfort from the pregnant woman, reached to pinch her husband in his side, eliciting a groan from him as she glared, “No, you don’t have to.”

“Yeah, you don’t,” Sylvie glared at Toto. “Tils and Toto didn’t get married until Tia came along.”

“So, you’re just going to be waiting for the fourth child to be out until you marry?” Arthur asked bluntly, leaving him to cower when Stevie, Lorenzo and Sylvie shot him a look of annoyance. “Oh mon dieu, je pose juste une question.” Oh my god, I’m just asking a question.

Toto wasn’t sold at the thought of his youngest in-law being pregnant with another driver’s children. He’d seen Stevie get married off to his own driver, Lewis, and it still never sat right with him to witness them being married or having a family with some men. Charles could agree on the same thing, because if his hypothetical daughter was to be courted and even have a boyfriend he wasn’t sure how he would act either.

He didn’t think that he would have the same problem with vice versa until he found out that Aimee was carrying two boys. He wondered how to prevent them from having girlfriends or boyfriends at an early age because he was certain that Aimee would just play mother of the groom on the pretend wedding that the boys would have at a young age.

But his worries withered away when he held Hervé and Jules for the first time. He could still remember realizing how strong they were from the grip they had on his fingers. He could still remember the sight of Aimee crying after she introduced them to their father— not wanting to see Charles cry again due to the tribute that she had given to Charles’ family that passed years ago.

Perhaps it was a good idea that she did the crying this time; she deserved it after watching him have a breakdown over the little things that he didn’t need to worry about — and Charles needed to have the backbone for thinking himself as a shitty father for his unborn children.

“What’re their names?” Esteban almost laughed after seeing Charles stare at Pierre mindlessly. It really wasn’t a good idea for Gasly to have Charles repeat the babies’ names all over again especially when the Monegasque was way too tired for his friends’ bullshit.

Mick kicked Pierre lightly with a hush, rocking the baby in his arms as he quietly asked, “Do you not listen or do you just live to piss your best friend off?”

Charles glared at Pierre, whose smile stood out as he giggled. Scoffing quietly, Charles gestured to the boy in his arm, “Jules Lorenzo Blaise Pascal Timothé.”

Then he nudged his head at Mick’s direction before he introduced the other twin, “and the boy in Mick’s hold is Hervé Louis Sebastien René Mathieu.”

“Sorry, I didn’t listen, Shal can you—“

“Oh my fucking god. Shut the fuck up, Pierre.”

“I’m kidding,” Pierre snorted as he quietly cackled. “What do you call them though?”

2026 — Sacha Niki Pierre Philippe Leclerc

Torger Wolff promised that he wasn’t going to squash Charles Leclerc’s head until it popped once that Hervé and Jules Leclerc were born.

He loved his nephews after all and spoiled them as much as their Uncle Toto could. He made sure the boys had their bunk beds prepared at the Wolff home in Monaco or England just in case they came for a sleepover with his son Adelmo and his niece Lottie Hamilton — who were just about the same age as the twins. He spoiled them equally.

But god, was he ever ready to get rid of their Da the moment he received a text from the Monegasque with the words, “She’s pregnant.”

“Morning, Sainz, is your stupid teammate in the office?” Toto didn’t even listen to the Spanish man’s answer as he continued to make his way to Fred Vasseur’s in-site office at the Scuderia Ferrari area. “Charles Leclerc! I’ve warned you once—“

The Ferrari team principal turned to look at the entryway of his office with a scowl, crossing his arms in annoyance. Toto wasn’t even in his team’s area and he was still acting like he shouldn’t have to knock at the damn door. The man that he was addressing, however, was teary eyed when he turned to look at Toto.

“Is this your third or fourth?” Toto asked, still glaring at the Monegasque.

“Third,” Charles wanted to smile but the last thing he wanted to do was die in this damn motorhome. In the hands of Toto Wolff, of all people.

“And no ring?” Toto then found him holding whatever in his hand, peering down as his mouth opened slightly.

In Charles’ hand was a gold ring, ruby sitting on top of it as he clutched on it tightly. It wasn’t just a gold ring. From what Toto had learned, it was Aimee’s grandmother’s engagement ring.

“I was— proposing to her—“ Charles sobbed quietly, a smile now resting on his face as he begged himself not to ugly cry in front of the Mercedes team principal. “Then she said Herb and J were going to be big brothers. I was on my knees, Toto! I promise! I want to propose first but she just spewed that— oh god, I have three children now.” It didn’t even dawn on him that he was about to have three under five until he cut himself off.

Then he was just crying hysterically in the middle of the office with Carlos barging in frantically. “What the hell, Charles?! Are you okay?”

Toto smiled proudly at the Monegasque driver, clapping him on the back before he shrugged at Carlos Sainz and Fred. “Don’t worry about him,” Toto replied quietly to the other men, “he’s having his third child, that's all.”

Carlos and Fred were confused and scared. They weren’t sure if it was because of Charles’ breakdown on the floor of the Ferrari team principal’s office or if it was because of Toto’s calm demeanour. But regardless, if Toto said not to worry, then so be it.

Baby Boy Leclerc was written on his little hospital bassinet. But Toto got the first glimpse of his birth certificate.

Sacha Niki Pierre Philippe Leclerc.

Toto had no reason to be upset. He wasn’t. He was just as equally as annoyed at himself when he realized how overprotective he was when it came to Aimee - who, as of this point, had already given birth to her third baby. He had no reason to be protective especially when she was doing a damn good job at protecting her two children. Now, he had the chance to witness her protect Sacha — the boy that they named after Niki Lauda, who happened to be close to the Hearth sisters before he passed.

Like Tilly’s second pregnancy, Aimee and Charles welcomed their son to the world with wedding bands in their fingers. Pierre almost had a stroke watching Charles boast about his wife and their third son— but the final nail in the coffin had something to do with Sacha Leclerc having Pierre as a namesake. It wasn’t everyday Pierre got to pass out over such a small thing— but to be a namesake and named the godfather of the child? Yeah, Pierre Gasly would boast about him too.

Arriving back home was easy. However, according to the Leclerc children’s grid uncles, writing down the boy’s name into the banner (which said, “Welcome Baby Sacha Niki Pierre Phi—(with a gap) lippe”) was quite complicated. They had done a good job with the twins’ welcome banner two years ago, but according to them their handwriting got too sloppy.

Lando groaned quietly, “Don’t give them such a long name next time. Look at Max! His name is just Max.”

Max Verstappen reached for a balloon on the floor before hitting Lando with it, “It’s a Leclerc thing to give them six names, of course they have to have the long name.”

“Oi, don’t make fun of my name,” Charles called out from the kitchen, pouring his two boys some glasses of apple juice the toddlers babbled in protest against their Uncle Max’s response. “Even H and J aren’t happy with what you said. You’re not being kind to your own nephews the more you make fun of me.”

Pierre chuckled, sitting next to Aimee as she fed Sacha. The Frenchman said, “I’m so convinced that those two are Charles’ minis.”

“They are becoming more like their Da as days go on,” Aimee pulled her tank top’s strap back on and began to burp Sacha. “I’m so outnumbered as of this point.”

“Baby PJ’s going to be like his Oncle Pierre, I can tell you that much,” Pierre smugly said, reaching out to caress Sacha’s cheek as he said, “I’ll be his big mentor and I’ll make sure his Da doesn’t have much influence on him.”

“His name is Sacha, Pierre,” Aimee rolled her eyes. Pierre, from the moment he was told of Sacha’s full name, had decided that the baby’s nickname was PJ — or Pierre Junior. He hadn’t even held the baby yet when he walked in the room but he had already staked his claim and declared Sacha as a Mini Pierre. “And you said the same thing to Herb and Jules when you met them, look how they turned out. They’re so much like Charles.”

“We all have our trials and errors,” Pierre mumbled, “and you know what they say— third times a charm. Maybe PJ will be the same.”

2029 — Anthoine Charles Elio Perceval and Alain Marc Léonard Arthur Leclerc

“You have quite some swimmers,” Pierre cackled hysterically, slapping Charles in the chest as he tried to get his shit together instead of laughing at the fact that his best friend has five children under seven. He really couldn’t when he had to remind himself that Aimee had given birth to another set of twins just a day ago.

Charles began to curse at him in French, already exasperated after the long night that Aimee had. She had a labour that lasted longer than the previous pregnancies that she went through and it annoyed her more than it made things painful. Charles’ five year olds and his three year old son were fussing about not being around their mother for longer than two minutes and were already on the way to the hospital with their Mamé Pascale and Mamma Blanche, eager to meet their little brothers.

Pierre, Max, Lewis, and Mick were all standing in front of the glass window of the hospital nursery with Charles, eyes all trained on the twin boys that slept peacefully alongside other infants. Charles never wondered, but he was always surprised that Aimee was this strong to even give birth to five of their children— fuck that, she had given birth to five of his boys. He couldn’t even find himself to swear to his best friend when he was too busy loving the shit out of his newborn sons. His boys.

On the men’s left was Anthoine Charles Elio Perceval, whose personality was already showing by the way his resting face wrinkles to a scowl. Pierre couldn’t afford to cry over the tribute to their friend who passed years ago that all he did was laugh at his best friend’s experiences in fatherhood. He could just cry later on, the Frenchman told himself while he continued to pester Charles about his five sons.

Next to Anthoine’s bassinet was Alain Marc Léonard Arthur, whose soft smile had the men outside the nursery melting as he cooed softly and shifted around. Charles and the others could tell that out of the two of them, Alain would be the one to stop the Ferrari driver from ripping his hair out.

Anthoine would most likely give Charles a run for his money and raise hell with Hervé and Jules.

Alain would be the one to be as angelic as PJ — whose nickname stuck after Pierre continued to visit the boys every other week — and his mother Aimee, whose youthful glow remained despite entering her motherhood five years ago. Aimee wasn’t that outnumbered after all.

Max scoffed next to Pierre, “You wouldn’t be saying that if you hadn’t known anything about protection.”

“I’ve had practices,” Pierre winked at Max, making the Dutchman grimace. “Just no luck yet. It’s not as if I’m shaming Charles for it.”

“Five kids are better than none,” Lewis shrugged, still looking at the twins on the other side of the window. “How you’ve done it— fuckin’ beats me— but I sure as hell am jealous.”

“Never hurts to try for one more,” Charles chuckled. “You really think Lottie and Leland would be satisfied to have each other? It doesn’t really make a good playhouse squad.”

Lewis huffed, “They’ve already got your boys, Adelmo and Max’s Millie. I don’t think Steve would appreciate having to push out one more.”

“What about you, Max?” Mick joked before nudging the Dutchman with a smirk. “Opting for one more?”

“I’ve got a girl,” Max deadpanned, “and I’ve another one on the way. I’m not the kind to be greedy but I think Millia and Lila would make good big sisters to a little brother, don’t you think?”

“Are you two settling for the little girl’s name then?” Pierre asked. “Lila?”

“Poor Sylvie doesn’t even have a child named after her,” Mick laughed.

“She named our daughter Emilia,” Max defended himself, “I didn’t ask her to name the girl Emilia. She just said it’s too damn pretty.”

“Besides, Max isn’t really known for giving things good names,” Lewis teased. “Last I checked he wanted to call Emilia ‘Jane’.”

“Fuck off, Sylvie loves Jane Austen,” Max scoffed, shoving Lewis slightly when the British man laughed. “Besides, her name would have been Blue or something.”

“All jokes aside,” Lewis paused before clapping Charles on the back. “I’m pumped to see your bunch hanging out with their cousins. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Four months,” Max murmured. “It’s been four months for all of us.”

“I know,” Charles rolled his eyes. “H and Jules are looking forward to the Australian GP— they’ve been wanting to wreak havoc in the paddock since Abu Dhabi.”

“Those kids of yours need to lose that energy,” Pierre chuckled. “Have you ever taken them for a walk?”

“I always take them out for a walk,” Charles muttered. They just have a bad habit of running away from their Da. All the freaking time.

Speaking of.

“Da!”

“Look at those little devils go,” Pierre and the other men turned to the direction of the sound of running feet, hoisting little PJ up in his arms while the eldest Leclerc children ran towards their father, who had immediately lifted them up and pressed a kiss on their cheeks.

“Where are they? Where are they?” Hervé and Jules tried to keep their voices down, as they were told by their Mamé before they entered the hospital— begging their dad to show them the newborn babies as he pointed through the window.

“Oncle P,” Sacha reached for his godfather’s scruffy face as he murmured, “où est Maman?” Where’s mom?

“Elle dort comme un bébé,” She’s sleeping like a baby. Pierre whispered to the boy, now pointing to the babies as he continued, “Like your little brothers.”

“Mm? Mais il ne dort pas,” But he’s not sleeping. Sacha pointed at the baby to the right. “He’s no sleeping?”

“He looks like you, Da. Look,” Jules pointed and said in awe while grinned at his father. “And he does too!”

“He’s like me and Jules!” Hervé exclaimed in amusement. “They look the same, Da!”

“Yes they do,” Charles grinned, “because they’re like you two. Twins!”

“How come I don’t have twin?” Sacha asked, slumping against his Oncle Pierre. Max and Lewis turned to the boy and offered him a soft smile.

Mick then reached out, “It’s better that you don’t,” he joked, “you’re one of a kind, little PJ.”

“But he won’t have any driving partner for Ferrari?” Hervé protested in annoyance. Charles laughed at this. His sons were born to be Ferrari drivers, said once by Sebastian Vettel. They were born to a Ferrari driving father and a mother who worked for McLaren. Even the amount of papaya outfit never stopped the Leclerc children from aspiring to become the Prancing Horse’s next generation of drivers.

All but one. Sacha turned to look at his eldest brothers and said, “Me and L’land are driving for Mercedes!”

“No! You’re driving for ‘Rari, ‘member, PJ?”

“Mummy said I can drive for anyone,” Sacha pulled himself away from Pierre’s chest for a second to cross his arms, pouting at his eldest brothers. “I wan’ drive for ‘Cedes!”

Lewis looked at Charles with approval all over his face, obviously cocky at the statement made by the three year old.

“You don’t want to drive for Alpine like your Oncle P?” Pierre asked, goading his godson into joining his team.

“Hm, maybe! But I wanna be like Uncle Lew and Da!”

“Mon chou, you are like Da,” Charles grinned widely. “You and your brothers are mini Charles.”

Seeing his sons now — the two that he held in his arms, the toddler that Pierre had on his own pair and the other two that were just born yesterday — had him thinking about the importance of their names and their existence. Charles didn’t seem to think of himself as someone so sentimental, but his life with Aimee seemed to change his viewpoint. He valued his family more than he did before.

He didn’t care much about carrying the family name as long as he could remember where his sons’ names came from.

If his eldest asked, he was more than willing to tell them a story about how Hervé and Jules got their names from their late grandpa and uncle. If PJ asked, then Charles and Aimee would sit him down to tell the boy about Aimee’s Uncle Niki and great grandfather Philip Hearth. And someday when his youngest grew curious, he’d tell them all about Charles’ good friend Anthoine and a French driving legend named Alain Prost.

He’d sit them all down to let them know about the people that he and Aimee loved and how they loved to keep their memories alive through the boys.

But for now, Charles Leclerc was quite content with nurturing his boys with his wife. He was only looking forward to caring for Aimee Leclerc and their children. Then maybe someday, the Leclerc bunch would grow to care for their mother too.

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kazumist · 1 year

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THEM LOVING YOU AS YOUR BEST FRIEND .ᐟ

✩ — includes: albedo, xiao, thoma, kazuha, scaramouche x gn!reader. fluff, angst if u squint ?? no cws. wc: 988. please reblog !! it helps me tons <3 this is the bsf to lovers draft that no one in particular asked for,,

albedo — !

albedo is usually smart, but once he starts to notice some changes in how he feels about you, he doesn’t have an answer. you know that albedo has the tendency to be touch deprived—so touch deprived that people would’ve thought you were a couple already before you could even explain that you’re just best friends. but why do his grips seem tighter lately whenever he holds your hand? as if he doesn’t plan or want to let go? it’s possible that you’re overthinking, but you know albedo. he wasn’t like this before.

him realizing that he fell in love with you was a huge revelation. it just came crashing down to him, and he didn’t even think of it thoroughly. with the wind blowing onto your hair on a late afternoon in the streets, albedo finally realized that he liked you. he realized a lot of things during that moment—he realized how he sometimes loses his rationality around you, how he’s becoming less than he usually is, and how you’re the person who can only make him unfold in such ways. albedo shook his head at you and smiled, and you looked at him in confusion.

“albedo? what are you smiling so stupidly at?” you asked. “nothing. i’ll walk you home now; it’s getting quite late,” he replied.

xiao — !

xiao is the reserved one, always wanting to keep your business to yourself. it’s respectable, really. although you two still bond in public, it may just look like you’re just acquaintances and not “best friends." however, behind closed doors, xiao gets a bit of an attitude. he acts more childish alone with you—something that’s very unexpected from the usually composed xiao people would see. but you find it cute how his eyes sparkle at his favorite food if you get it for him.

if albedo was confused about his feelings, xiao is even worse. he’d go through multiple stages on how to realize if he’s in love with you. it’ll be a slow burn too, since he has no idea if his feelings are romantic towards you or if they're just platonic. he’s very conflicted. but isn’t the way xiao looks at you already enough? how about him wanting to spend more time with you? or about those times where he’d want to hold your hand longer?

xiao needs to clarify his emotions soon, but deep inside he knows that it’s romantic; he just refuses to admit it.

thoma — !

sometimes you don’t even know if he’s your mother or your best friend. if you don’t take care of yourself, then he will. god, you can’t forget how antsy he gets every time you’re sick. be it a small fever or just a cold, he’ll be taking care of you. he knows that you know how much he cares about you, but sometimes he wonders if your relationship is really just platonic.

but how? how can it possibly be platonic when your lips almost meet when you look at each other, squishing at the large crowd? how can it even be platonic when he’d take you out on little dates (and yes, a date even though you’re “best friends”) during the weekend? is it even platonic when thoma holds himself back from kissing you even though he gets so many chances to do so?

it’s frustrating. it was frustrating that thoma doesn’t even know who the two of you are at this point. he knows he loves you; he just doesn’t want to ruin what you have now, and he doesn’t know how to tell you about these big feelings he’s been holding onto. so he bottles it up for now—one day he will confess. once he’s ready.

kazuha — !

you two would do a lot of things. messing around in the library and watching movies together, it may seem that kazuha doesn’t hold romantic feelings for you as your best friend, but he does. it’s visible in how he looks at you. everyone can see it — everyone but you. he knows that you can get rather oblivious in some instances, but this time it’s really obvious. he doesn’t get why you haven’t noticed it yet. were you in denial? do you not want to be faced with these hints he leaves every now and then? kazuha can usually read you (he’s your best friend after all), but on this issue, he gets so conflicted.

with a flick to your forehead, you yell at the short period of pain that rushed at you because of kazuha. he sighs at you again before correcting you for what seems like the nth time today, all because of your homework. he too is having other thoughts as he teaches you—why haven’t you noticed it yet? when will you ever take notice of his feelings? but he gave up on thinking about the matter.

kazuha is, after all, willing to wait patiently for you anyway.

scaramouche — !

being stuck with scaramouche for this long is surprising for you. it’s not like he’s bad; there are just times when he has this attitude (which is honestly every time if you think about it). but you were one of the few people that scaramouche trusts. he tells you a lot of things, how he regrets ordering this one meal at a place he ate at, how he’s frustrated with all of the deadlines he has; scaramouche tells you about anything.

but the one thing he can’t seem to tell you is that he holds these feelings for you. he doesn’t know how to describe it. it’s overwhelming for him. scaramouche had always kept his heart safe and was always cautious when it came to love. but you just suddenly came in, and it was like his heart wasn’t even locked away in the first place.

scaramouche knows he has fallen deep when he realizes that only you could make him feel like this—his very own best friend.

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gooeyringtown · 2 months

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Can you do a head canon on Barbie/Gloria in the same verse as the movie? Like they are a couple because OBVI, but with your interpretation on...

who wakes up first?

who is most protective?

who is quick to jealousy?

who is the big spoon?

yes absolutely!! i did quite a lot LMAO so i'm gonna put a little cut-off

*slight nsfw warning for some

who wakes up first? : gloria, usually. barbie is a HEAVYY sleeper and snores very softly and gloria thinks it's very cute.

who is most protective? : both. gloria primarily because barbie is new (at first) to the world and she knows how unnecessarily nasty some people can be. barbie is protective in the sense that she carefully watches how everybody speaks to and treats gloria, especially considering the fact that she knows how futile gloria can sometimes feel.

who is quick to jealousy? : both. but more-so barbie. she has big feelings and they're quick to get the best of her (gloria thinks it's hot)

who is the big spoon? : i love this one and i think barbie would be, even though she's the more gentle one. she loves the idea of being big and strong and protective over gloria, and gloria would adore it sm

who is more affectionate: barbie in public. gloria in private. (she's a huge softie for barbie and 100% always seeks her out for cuddles or a kiss on the cheek, or hand-holding, etc. especially after a day at work and EXTRA when barbie is being cute. which is always.)

who's most likely to apologize after an argument: gloria. i think they're both very rational, but barbie is a bit more stubborn and also an overthinker, so it can be tough to gather up her thoughts and feelings. by the time she wants to apologize, gloria already has.

who makes the first move and how?: both. but gloria starts it. she gets home from a really long, tiring day at work, remembering that sasha had mentioned a project she needed help on, and she's just exhausted. she walks into the house, though, to see barbie at the dining table helping sasha with said-project, nearly finished. dinner's also made on the stove. barbie beams at her and welcomes her home, giving her a big hug and gushing excitedly about how she and sasha worked so hard. sasha goes upstairs to put her stuff away, and barbie has pencil stains on her hand and face, her hair a little windswept, and she looks so simple and so perfect, and gloria says "kiss me." so barbie does.

who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?: gloria. she doesn't mean to be; she just has some of those days once in a while where everything can feel so difficult. she usually feels better with some alone time. barbie is very understanding of that and loves to set up gloria's home studio with some art supplies and candles and books just in case gloria wants to spend some time in there. she'll also make her some tea/coffee if gloria feels like it

who is the most romantic?: barbie. she is very silly at first as she gets the hang of it (she nearly gets arrested again for trespassing on private property to pick some of gloria's favorite flowers from a garden) but that woman is a LOVERBOY

who can’t keep their hands to themselves?: depends which way… if u mean generally touchy, barbie. if u mean in the saucy way, GLORIA.

who says ‘I love you’ first?: barbie. she says it very passively bc she thought it was obvious, and gloria cries. barbie is kind of like 🧍🏼‍♀️

what do they get up to on a night out?: i feel like they'd love to go to a pottery class where they make stuff for each other. or an arcade. but mainly i think they'd LOVE to go to one of those places where they give you a cake that's already made/baked and you just decorate it. they'd have so much fun and afterwards they'd probably stay up late at home, eating it in the kitchen and just talking for hours

who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings?: barbie

who cried the most at graduation?: BARBIE LMAO. SHE WAS SOBBING.

who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law?: barbie bc she's like 'i've been there, girl.'

what do they like in bed?: barbie likes to be rough sometimes. she also has a thing for gloria whimpering/moaning right into her ear. little bit of a thing for size. and riding. gets super turned on when gloria gets off on her stomach. gloria likes a bit of dirty talk. queen of giving head. lovessss whispering against barbie's lips while she fingers her slowly. has a thing for marks/bruises, espeically leaving them. teasing/edging barbie is her favorite thing, to the point where barbie gets insanely frustrated (sometimes it results in her getting extra rough and flipping them over)

did any of their friends or family want them to get together?: yes. pretty much everybody. gloria's family thinks barbie is absolutely adorable and they could see how much happier gloria became with her around. sasha, ofc, is barbiegloria's biggest shipper but has to be cool about it

who felt romantic feelings first?: ok i think the obvious answer would be barbie, but i hc it as both. though gloria's were much more level and she was like "fuck." and internally panicked and tried to approach it reasonably, whereas barbie was like OH MY GODDDD IM IN LOVE 😭🥹🥹💘 SHE'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFEEEEEE

did either of them try to resist their feelings?: yes. gloria mainly because she feared the change would be too drastic for sasha and couldn't help but imagine if things didn't work out, how messy it could become

what would their lives be like if they had never met?: barbie would be that packaged box of perfection, but without substance and completely superficial. she would have never known imperfection and the joys of being human and the immeasurable beauty in all the mundane things like reading a book, trying a new food, hearing a pretty song. gloria would be lost to the feeling of those impossible standards and spend her life never being free. never feeling good enough. they truly do liberate one another

were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?: gloria was barbie's first everything. barbie was gloria's first love, and the only true one. also the one that outlived and outshined all the others

what’s their height difference? age difference?: gloria is 5'1 and barbie is 5'10 idc. barbie is like 34/35 and gloria is 37

who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?: gloria into barbie's ear, all the time. but once barbie starts doing it, she LOVESSS it. she's so cheeky. and gloria is always death staring her bc she knows damn well they can't do anything

what kind of nicknames do they call each other?: gloria calls barbie honey, mi amor, baby. barbie calls gloria love/my love, babe, and baby also.

who remembers the little things?: barbie mostly.

who’s the stricter parent?: gloria

who worries the most?: gloria. because barbie can be very not careful with some things (like she's still understanding the concept of fire being very hot)

who kills the bugs in the house?: barbie. but she feels bad about it later on and stays up thinking about it sometimes

how do they celebrate holidays?: with gloria's family!

who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?: barbieeeee. gloria can't resist that pout and sleepy face

Who’s the better cook?: gloria. her cooking skills are AMAZINGGGGG

who likes to dance?: gloria!! she loves dancing and is great at it omg. that woman can MOVE. she always makes barbie dance with her at family events or any parties where there's music and a dancefloor

bonus random hcs i have written down:

barbie is very athletic and plays beach volleyball and does karate. she works CRAZY hard to get her purple belt, all so she can let sasha have it because that's sasha's favorite color

barbie grows her own roses to make gloria a bouquet for mother's day

gloria teaches barbie how to swim. (barbie has to wear those little kid floaties)

barbie takes her youtube videos very seriously and will be up at like 1am watching a 45 minute video on some shit like how a gecko hatches or something. she'll bump gloria like 'babe look' even though gloria is asleep

they have a little thing they do where they get those paint-by-number sets and do them together. they're collecting them<33

sasha makes barbie do the fire noodle challenge (barbie is sick for like a day)

when barbie gets her first cut/scab, sasha gets her a band-aid and barbie tears up and is all like 'thank you so much sasha. it's beautiful' while petting the band-aid

sasha is like wtf

barbie learns about mood rings and thinks they're actually magical and is so excited to wear it

sasha is like 'i'm gonna tell her it's all based on temperature.' and gloria is all 'no you're not!!'

sasha is a d&d fiend on the dl and barbie asks her about it one day

they proceed to nerd out together

barbie becomes ENAMORED with dragons

barbie and gloria have a shared journal and they take turns writing in it every night before bed

they also have their own book club where they read a book together (barbie especially loves it bc gloria usually reads a chapter or two for them before bed while barbie lays hugging gloria's stomach and gloria plays with her hair.)

ok that's all for now... if i think of any more hcs, i'll make a separate post/pt.2 ☺️

thank you sm for the ask! i hope you like these!!🩷

#barbie 2023 #barbie #barbie x gloria #gloria x barbie #glorbie #barbiegloria #margot robbie #america ferrera #headcanons #glorbie headcanons #barbie movie #asks

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dindjarindiaries · 4 days

Text

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 4

summary: Tensions rise more than ever before as you, Sergeant Hunter, and the rest of Clone Force 99 take action.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 9.769k

chapter 3 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 5

chapter 4 ⟹

You triple checked the fastening on your holster before you let out a soft sigh and moved the skirt of your dress to conceal it. There was an invisible burn on the skin of your thigh that had been left behind by another touch days ago, and it continued to remind you of its lovely ache even now. You had half a mind to let the holster unfasten itself again, but your rationality won that battle time and time again.

The room would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the dim lights illuminating the space of your suite. Your eyes found the chrono and you raised your brow at how early it was. At least it would still be the same person greeting you outside your doors.

You kept a comfortable shawl around your shoulders as you approached the doors and let them slide open. The sergeant tensed as he spun around to face you, a careful hand set over his holster before his helmet straightened in realization. He relaxed as his visor gave you a quick once-over.

“Senator.” Hunter’s tone failed to hide his concern, his voice sending a sweet shockwave of comfort through your tired body. “I thought I heard some movement in there.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “So much for trying to stay quiet.”

Hunter huffed, though the exhale was drawn out into a longer breath. “Having trouble sleeping again?”

You tightened your lips as your gaze fell from his visor. Your shoulders lifted in a small shrug before you answered. “Sleep just feels secondary to everything else at the moment.”

Hunter lifted his arms from his sides to remove his helmet. Your gaze found his own as his brown eyes, as vulnerable and observant as ever, sparkled at you. “I understand.”

The small smile that stretched across your lips was genuine. “I know.” The two of you stared at one another for much too long before you glanced at your room over your shoulder. “I’ve been working on the plans for tonight’s mission, if you want to get an early look.”

Hunter’s brow raised. “The perks of having the last watch, huh?” You laughed and shook your head, leading him inside the room. “If Tech hears about this…”

You shot him an amused look as the doors to your room closed behind him. “None of them will hear about this, unless you’ve been enjoying all their teasing these past few days.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “I wish I could say I wasn’t used to it.”

You had to force out a chuckle when the words struck you with an unexpected pang of jealousy. Did the sergeant often grow so close to those he served that he would be used to such teasing from his squad? You hushed your exhausted mind’s overthinking and focused on the holotable in front of you. “Here’s the village we’ll be protecting tonight.”

Hunter tightened his grasp on the helmet tucked underneath his arm as the other rested upon the edge of the holotable. “This is the one Tech identified?”

You nodded at him. “It’s pretty far from the capitol. We can make it on foot, but it could take a while.”

Hunter’s gaze slid over to you for a moment. You could have gasped at how handsome he looked with the blue light of the holo illuminating his face, highlighting the shadows around his chiseled face. “Shouldn’t be a problem for us.”

You turned to face the holomap again before you could get more flustered. “Great. We should leave before daylight’s completely gone. It’s more than likely they’ll attack right at nightfall.”

Hunter nodded in your periphery. “Echo’s been working on finding a good exit, unless you already had one in mind.”

You smiled. “I’d appreciate his insight on that. That’s the last piece we really need.”

Hunter took a deep breath, his jaw circling before he spoke. “I figure Wrecker and I will be teaming up out there to identify any explosives. I can sense most of them, and he could disarm them in his sleep.” You giggled at that. “We’ll have Crosshair positioned up high as the lookout.”

The sergeant’s eyes glazed over with worry as he paused in consideration.

“I’d prefer Tech to be monitoring comms somewhere near him. He said his ankle’s better, but I’m not convinced that it’s ready for all this action.” You couldn’t help smiling at the concern he showed for his squadmate. “Echo will be on foot ready to intercept them or cause a diversion. As for you, Senator…”

Hunter paused again, the corner of his mouth raising before he went on.

“Well, what do you want to do?”

You crossed your arms and returned his look. “I think it’s most sensible for me to pair up with Echo.”

“I’d say the same.” Hunter lifted an eyebrow. “But is that what you want to do?”

You hadn’t realized the sergeant could be this bold, especially so early in the morning—but the upcoming fight wasn’t the only storm that had been brewing ever since the welcome banquet. Your gaze remained in his as you responded. “What I want doesn’t matter. Only the safety of your squad and my people does.” You nodded before lowering your head. “That’s why we have to take the sensible approach.”

Hunter let out a soft chuckle. “My squad isn’t really used to the ‘sensible approach,’ Senator.” He took a step closer and reached his free hand towards you. The touch that had been haunting you for days found your chin, gently tilting your head back up so that your eyes met his again. You parted your lips in awe of him as he went on. “And trust me, you don’t have to sacrifice all your wants for your people’s needs.” He nodded. “You can still fulfill both.”

Your gaze searched his as you sat in the heavy silence. Your voice was nothing more than a whisper as you broke it. “Are we still talking about the plan, Sergeant?”

Hunter gave you a once-over that could have made you melt if you weren’t so well-versed in composure. “If that’s what you want, Senator.”

An unprecedented warmth blazed over you from head-to-toe as you uncrossed your arms and stared at him. Your heart raced, the blood pounding in your ears, as you slowly drew closer to him out of instinct. He didn’t move, instead letting you be the one in control of the situation. It only made you want him more.

But your nose couldn’t even brush his before your gaze fell to the hand of his that still held your chin. You lifted your hands to gently wrap around his wrist, lowering his hand and holding it politely between both of yours. With a deep breath, you spoke in a quiet yet honest voice. “What I want is to continue protecting those I care about.”

The hand on top of his gave it a small pat as you gained the faith to meet his gaze again. It was hard to read the emotions you found there, but there was an undeniable sparkle that hadn’t been there before. He had understood everything about you up to that point, and you needed him to continue doing so.

“I need that above all else.”

And there it was, the usual furrow in his brow that proved he was somehow inside your mind, understanding each motivation behind whatever you did. There we no doubt he saw it, too, the truth of what would happen if this storm broke. Any path that could potentially lead him to desertion wasn’t one you were willing to take, not with the danger that would pose to him—and his squad.

Hunter nodded as dutifully as ever. “I understand.” The lack of disappointment in his voice, exchanged for fondness, made the pill much easier to swallow.

You managed a smile for him. “Of course you do.”

Hunter returned your smile with a sweet huff. You freed his hand as your arms returned to your sides. He was back to his usual cadence as he spoke again. “I didn’t realize you were so passionate about mission plans, Senator.”

Your ears burned, but you didn’t fight the way your smile grew in amusement at his words. “I’m very passionate about a lot of things, Sergeant.” You gave yourself a moment to enjoy the warm flush that spread across his cheeks before you looked at the holomap again. “So, I’ll position myself with Echo.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the help.” Hunter continued to wear a fond smile even as he looked upon the holographic plans. “Usually, it’s him and Tech, but… not with Tech’s ankle.”

You raised a curious brow. “Is Crosshair always alone, then?”

Hunter hummed. “He likes it that way.” His gaze slid over to you. “Wrecker doesn’t do heights, Echo can’t stay still, and Tech doesn’t really do silence.”

Your lips spread wide in an amused smile. “And you, Sergeant?”

Hunter shrugged, raising his chin as he began to return your smile. “I’m a man of action, Senator.”

You giggled, the sound more giddy than you had hoped it would be, and glanced down at your feet for a moment. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“I’m not surprised.” You lifted your head up to face him again, though he had already focused back on the dimly lit plans. The hint of a smile still tugged at the corner of his mouth even as he changed the subject. “I can’t imagine wearing our armor will be an option with all this secrecy.”

“Actually, you can wear it, and you should.” Hunter’s head snapped towards you at that. “I have a solution.”

Hunter tilted his head. “What kind of a solution?”

“A simple one.” You shrugged him off and adjusted the wrap that was still sitting on your shoulders. “You’ll see it later tonight.”

Hunter set his free hand on his hip. “A surprise, huh?”

The material of the wrap began to gently slide off your shoulders, and you let it pool at your elbows. “You’ll find that I’m full of them.”

It was hard to miss Hunter’s gaze flickering over you at the quick action, and even harder to miss the tightening of his jaw as he turned back to the holotable one more time. He paused to take a deep breath before speaking again. “Well, I should get back out there before anyone notices I’m gone.”

You nodded and considered teasing him, but let it go for now. “Right.”

Hunter returned your nod, and you deactivated the holotable as he turned towards the doors. He only made it a few steps before the internal battle you were having with yourself decided on a victor.

“Sergeant?”

Hunter stopped in his tracks, turning over his shoulder to face you again without hesitation.

You smiled at him once more. “Thank you.”

His earnest brow furrowed together. “For what, Senator?”

“For understanding.” Your gaze gave him the same once-over he had given you earlier. “All of it.”

Hunter nodded dutifully, but the action couldn’t fully hide the hard swallow he took. “It’s not easy being a leader.” He gestured with his head to the doors behind him. “I’m always here if you want to talk.”

You beamed and echoed your own words from before. “I know.”

Hunter offered one last small smile before he turned back to the doors, sliding his helmet on as they opened for him. You watched him go until the doors hid him from sight once again. With a deep exhale, you ran your hand along your forehead, resisting the burning ache in your chest that demanded you bring him back in and finish whatever he was going to let you start.

This fight was taking an entirely different type of strength from you, and it wasn’t something you could have ever trained yourself for.

From there, the rest of the day proceeded as usual, with you attending diplomatic meetings while Clone Force 99 continued to sweep the perimeter—and no doubt did whatever smaller tasks they had to for the mission that night. You were still focused on your attempts to reach a peaceful compromise through diplomacy, even if you knew the effort was in vain. You weren’t one to give up easily.

But there was nothing like exchanging your gown for your tactical clothes. You could breathe easier as you laced up your boots and secured your holster over the material on your thigh rather than vice versa. Having better access to your blaster and knife provided you with a security you hadn’t felt since you landed onworld—at least, when you weren’t in the presence of Clone Force 99.

After triple checking you had everything ready for yourself and for the squad, you approached the doors. They opened, and immediately, Tech turned to face you, looking up from his datapad as he did so.

“Tech, hail the squad.” You nodded at him with a small smile. “It’s time we get ready to go.”

Tech returned your nod. “Yes, Senator.” He then shifted away to speak into the comms. “Hunter, the senator is ready for us.”

“Great.” You had to bite your cheek to keep your smile from growing at the sound of Hunter’s voice. “Let’s move out, boys.”

You heard the sound of some of their doors opening, but Tech spoke before you could truly focus on it. “I have to say, Senator, that was very punctual. The calculations I made for how much time you would require clearly underestimated you.” He set his datapad on his belt and tilted his helmet. “My apologies.”

You let out a soft laugh and set a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no need to apologize, Tech. I appreciate you keeping us on schedule.”

Tech’s eyes brightened at your praise before he nodded once more. You lowered your hand and looked to the side, where your gaze unsurprisingly connected with Hunter’s visor.

He had stopped in his tracks, and though his helmet barely moved, you could still feel the heat of his stare observing your new look. You resisted the urge to break your gaze even as your ears started to burn. The sergeant only came to his senses when Wrecker knocked his shoulder against Hunter’s as he passed him by. You chuckled as you watched Hunter give his helmet a few small shakes before closing the distance over to you.

You gestured with your head to the suite behind you as you faced the group. “Let’s make this quick.”

They all nodded, giving you the freedom to turn around and lead them inside. You reached for the pile you had made on the table and faced them once again.

“Here.” You began to distribute the black fabric to each of them, recalling the order in which you had stacked their sizes. “You’ll need these.”

“What are they?” Echo was the first one to ask.

“Hooded ponchos.” The last one you had to hand out was Hunter’s, and his gloved hands brushed yours as he took it. You somehow pushed down the rush of warmth the small moment brought you. “These will help to keep your armor concealed, including your helmets.”

“Cool,” Wrecker breathed as he slid it on over his broad figure. “Do you have one too, Senator?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Kind of.”

There was no missing the smile in Hunter’s modulated voice as he spoke next. “What a nice surprise.”

You flashed him a smile of your own. “I’m full of them.” You caught the fond tilt of Hunter’s helmet before you began to walk over to the holotable. “We’ll make the briefing quick so we can stay on schedule.”

“That would be wise,” Tech chimed in, even as he finished adjusting the poncho on his lean frame. Crosshair fixed Tech’s hood when it failed to make it over the antenna on his helmet.

“I’m sure you’ve done plenty of research and preparation on your own, which will help this go even faster.” You illuminated the display, which you had since added red markers to. Each marker indicated a person’s designated position, following what you and Hunter had discussed that morning. “Sergeant Hunter and Wrecker will be searching for any explosives they may have planted.”

“Oh, yeah!” Wrecker cheered.

“To disarm them,” Hunter reminded him.

“Oh.” Wrecker attempted to shrug off his disappointment. “Yeah.”

“Echo and I will be covering for them on the ground.” You pointed out your and Echo’s entry markers. Echo’s gaze flashed with surprise, but he nodded dutifully nonetheless. “Crosshair, we need you to keep watch up here and be ready to lay down additional cover.” Crosshair looked pleased at that, crossing his arms as he nodded. “And Tech, you’ll be sticking with Crosshair to monitor comms and help him analyze the situation from a distance.”

Tech’s eyes widened behind his goggles as he lifted a finger. “I typically complete those kinds of calculations and functions on the ground as well, Senator, if you would like me to join you and Echo for additional—.”

Hunter’s voice was low as he cut him off. “Not happening.” His visor looked pointedly at Tech’s ankle. “Running around on that injury in the dark is asking for trouble. You need to heal.”

Tech sighed. “I have told you, Hunter, that the ligaments in my ankle are much stronger now. I am more than capable of navigating this terrain without an issue.”

“Still.” Hunter lifted his helmet from his head to convey his severity to Tech. “You’re staying with Crosshair this time. That’s an order.”

Tech let out an annoyed exhale, but ultimately nodded. Crosshair snickered and rocked his shoulder against Tech’s as he spoke. “Lucky me.”

Hunter’s gaze slid over to you, no doubt catching the small smile you were wearing at the sight of his protectiveness for his squad. “You were saying, Senator?”

You shrugged. “That’s really it. Otherwise, just remember to keep your blasters on stun. The less injuries, the better.”

Hunter reached for something on his belt and handed it to you. “Here’s one of our extra comms.” He nodded as he closed your fingers around it. “In case you get separated.”

You returned his nod. “Thank you, Sergeant.” Hunter was beaming, despite the worry that swam in the depths of his gaze. You wished you could reassure him, but a new thought came to mind, and you had to focus on your audience. “Echo, how did getting an exit go?”

“Well, Senator, I definitely found one.” Echo removed his helmet, revealing his furrowed brow as he did so. “But you’re not gonna like it.” His gaze found Hunter as his voice lowered. “Neither are you.”

You and Hunter responded at the same time. “Why?”

Echo exhaled and walked over to an armoire that was meant to hold outerwear jackets. His fingers tested the edges until he pressed down, and the armoire slowly turned to reveal a dark, stone-walled corridor. Your jaw dropped, and when you stole a glance at Hunter, you saw his jaw tensed and his eyes widened to double their usual size.

There were a thousand questions running through your mind, but you made yourself pick the one that would most benefit the situation at hand. “Where does it lead to?”

Echo gestured with his head to the nearest viewport. “The outside, behind some decorative flora.”

You offered him an impressed raise of your brow. “How did you find it?”

Hunter wasn’t as eager. “And why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“I was able to access the schematics.” Echo lifted his right arm. “I wanted to make sure it actually existed before I said anything.” Echo paused to look into the corridor. “Now we know it’s real.”

You nodded at him. “This is perfect, Echo.”

“Perfect?” Hunter was appalled when you turned to meet his gaze. “Senator, this gives them easy access to your private quarters. What if they use it to—.”

“Relax, Sarge.” Crosshair’s cool tone contrasted greatly against Hunter’s hot frustration and concern. “Nothing’s happened to her yet.”

“And now we know about it, like Echo said,” Wrecker added. “We can keep an extra eye out.”

“Exactly.” You lifted your brow at Hunter. “It’s just as much our advantage as it is theirs. Now we can come and go for these missions as we please.”

Tech was the last one to chime in. “Your concern is unwarranted.”

Hunter gave the group one last disbelieving look before he sighed and nodded. “You’re right.” It wasn’t hard to see the gears of his mind turning as he went on. “Just know we’ll have to start doubling up our watch shifts. One at the doors, and one wherever this leads.”

Echo was the voice of reason. “If that’s what the senator wants.”

You had to resist laughing as you looked at Hunter again. His eyes pleaded with you, and you weren’t strong enough to deny him. It was a well-founded concern that made your chest warm. “Whatever puts you at ease, Sergeant. For now…” you turned to Echo and nodded, “we have to get going.”

“That is correct.” Tech looked down at his datapad, which no doubt displayed a chrono for him. “We will be off schedule if we delay any longer.”

You turned off the holotable and walked over to where your own hood and half-mask awaited you. “Echo,” you set both items in place, “care to lead the way?”

Echo nodded, setting his helmet back over his head and covering it with his hood. You looked over to see Hunter doing the same, though you were still able to catch his worried eye before it disappeared from view. You were the first to follow Echo inside, with the other four bringing up the rear. It was Tech who pressed whatever Echo had to close the armoire’s entrance, and the group all activated their torches to light up the corridor.

“It looks like this place hasn’t been touched for years,” Echo commented as you inhaled the stale air and passed plenty of abandoned cobwebs.

“I wonder why it exists,” you mused.

“It was likely installed by a previous ruler or diplomat who occupied the suite you’re currently residing in,” Tech theorized, unable to help himself. “This would have been a critical means of escape in the event of an emergency or threat to their life, which is quite often the case for people in power.”

“Trust me, I get it,” you murmured.

There was a hand on your back, but it was familiar enough to keep you from reacting to it. You looked over to see Hunter at your side, his helmet tilted. You offered him a reassuring nod, along with a smile you couldn’t resist. He returned the nod and lowered his hand, taking his previous place a few steps behind you.

After a few stairs and a turn around a dark corner, the group came upon the exterior door. It took a few seconds for Echo to find the activation, and once he did, the door slid open the same way the armoire had. He stepped out first and cleared the area before inviting you and the squad to do the same.

“You weren’t lying, Echo.” You barely dodged the branches of a hedge as he guided your way around the flora. “This is right in the middle of the gardens.”

Hunter made his way closer to the front of the group. “It’s good at concealing the entrance.”

“It is.” Echo agreed with the sergeant before turning his helmet to you. “You’re gonna have to lead from here, Senator.”

You nodded. “All right, everyone. Get ready for a trek.”

You then ran forward, blending in with the darkness of the night thanks to your wardrobe. The squad followed at your heels, with everyone maintaining the silence as you traversed your way through the forests of Eirus. Only the sounds of your feet treading upon the foliage and the chirping of nightlife could be heard—at least, for most of you. You weren’t sure what else Hunter was, or could be, picking up on.

You were nearly there when Hunter set a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you. His other hand was raised in a fist, which signaled the rest of the squad to pause as well. You watched as Hunter bent low to the ground and picked up some of the dirt, sifting it between his gloved fingers.

Hunter’s voice was low when he spoke. “They’ve been through here.” He stood back up to his full height and faced the squad. “Crosshair, head up.” Hunter pointed to a nearby tree, and Crosshair nodded back he shouldered his rifle and began to climb. “Tech, stay low.”

Tech nodded and drew his blaster as he crept close to the trunk of the tree Crosshair was climbing. Hunter released a gentle breath as he turned to you and Echo, though his visor lingered on you.

“We’ll split up here. I can’t sense much yet, but we’ll stay in touch.” Hunter gestured to his helmet.

“Sounds good.” You nodded, but within your chest, a feeling of dread crept up at the idea of separating. “You two stay safe, okay?” You forced the feeling away by focusing on Wrecker. “Sorry, Wrecker, but I don’t want to see any explosions.”

Wrecker huffed. “This one time, Senator, I’ll agree with ya’.” He clapped a hand on your shoulder. “We’ll be fine.”

Hunter gestured with his helmet to Wrecker. “What he said.”

You smiled and nodded once more, turning to face Echo. Yet there was a familiar hand that found yours in the dark, his fingers brushing yours with a gentle squeeze before he pushed ahead into the foliage. You stared after Hunter in awe for a moment, your chest warming with an entirely different feeling as you focused on Echo.

The ARC trooper nodded at you. “Ready, Senator?”

You raised your blaster with a small smile. “After you, Echo.”

He tilted his helmet in a substitution for a smile before running ahead. You followed him closely, using the foliage for cover as you went. You were surprised when the silence between the two of you was broken by Echo, whose tone was as eager as you had ever heard it. “So… you and Hunter, huh?”

Your eyes widened as you flashed him a surprised look. “What?” You hoped you sounded as surprised as you felt, and that the burning of your ears was the only thing giving you away.

Echo chuckled. “I’m only kidding, Senator.” His helmet gave you a quick glance. “But I have to say, he’s really taken a liking to you.”

The warmth was impossible to fight, even if you were able to keep your face straight. “Is that so?” Echo paused to nod at you before he kept going. You followed, but your curiosity couldn’t contain itself. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, even though I’m still fairly new to the squad, it's always been clear that politicians are not Hunter’s specialty. But the way he acts around you?” He shook his helmet in a genuine kind of disbelief. “It’s something I’ve never seen before.”

You couldn’t fight the smile any longer, but you at least aimed it towards your feet as you watched them traverse the terrain. “Really? That surprises me.”

“I mean, I’m surprised he’s even letting me be the one to pair up with you on this mission.” Echo stopped, encouraging you to do the same as the two of you sat along the edge of the foliage. “He’s very, very insistent about your safety.”

You beamed and hoped it was hidden behind the mask that covered the lower half of your face. “I feel the same way about his safety, and that of the rest of your squad.” You took a deep breath as your worries started to return. “You’re all risking a lot for me.”

Echo tilted his helmet at you. “That’s what we do, Senator. We know the risks.” He huffed. “And this squad loves them.”

You laughed softly and shook your head. “You have a wonderful squad, Echo. You’re very fortunate.”

“I am.” Echo reached forward to set his hand on your shoulder. “But as far as I’m concerned, it’s your squad right now, too.” His tone became even more lighthearted as he went on. “Hunter’s not the only one you’ve won over.”

You grinned at him, despite the fact he couldn’t see it beneath your mask. “Thank you, Echo. Truly. That’s very kind of you.” He nodded and lowered his hand. With a deep breath, you gestured with your head towards the outskirts of the nearby village. “With all that being said, what’s your play?”

Echo’s visor scanned the border. “Usually, I wait for one of two things. First, any suspicious movement along the edges.” He pointed towards the buildings closest to you. “Second, anything reported by the squad.”

“And if it’s quiet for a while?”

Echo lifted a hand to his helmet. “I check in.” He pressed down. “Hunter, we’re in position. How are things going so far?”

“They look busy,” Crosshair’s voice spoke into the earpiece you’d attached to the comm Hunter had given you. “Not sure if it’s because they’re finding things or if they’re still looking.”

“According to the patterns of the other attacks, it is likely there will be at least three explosives planted throughout the village,” Tech informed the group. “Hunter is aware of this, and they are seeking out these three. Given that this is a smaller village, however, there may be less.”

“Or more,” you breathed in worry, but didn’t activate the comm.

“More?” Echo’s visor stared at you.

“It could be a part of their strategy.” You furrowed your brow as the pieces started to come together. “A more brutal attack on a small village like this would expedite the people’s desire to get a resolution.”

“And make them more desperate.” Echo finished the thought for you. He cursed and activated his comm again. “Hunter, Wrecker, be on the lookout for more than three.”

“More?” Tech repeated the word just as Echo had before.

You chimed in before Tech could go on. “This could be their play. Attacking a small village like this with more brutality would get the people of Eirus to do whatever it takes to make these attacks stop.”

“The senator’s right.” Your heart dropped into your stomach at the haunted sound of Hunter’s voice. “Echo, Senator, I hope you two are good at disarming explosives. Wrecker and I are gonna need some backup.”

You and Echo shared a tense look, and Echo was the one bold enough to ask the question you were both thinking of. “How many are there?”

“Too many. It’s a hell of a lot more than three.”

You closed your eyes and composed yourself with a breath. You had faced odds much higher than this during your freedom fighting days, but with all those same allies now working against you, the weight of it all was much heavier. “We’ll start searching on the eastern half,” Echo assured Hunter.

“Be careful.”

The pure concern in Hunter’s tone wasn’t lost through the comms. You lifted yours to your mask. “You too.”

“How touching.” Crosshair’s tone was as cool as ever as he spoke once again. “But you two better get a move on, Echo. You’ve got hostiles inbound.”

“Already?” Echo sighed and readied his blaster. You did the same. “Great.”

“I hope you’re ready for some action, Echo.” You kept your tone light as you tilted your head at him.

Echo huffed and waved his blaster around. “Let’s just hope I’m not rusty after this little break of ours.”

You chuckled and let him lead the way. While you might have been a freedom fighter, Echo was an ARC trooper of the Republic, and those were credentials you could never surpass. He stuck to the shadows, using your dark clothing to your advantage, and kept moving until he could spot the hostiles Crosshair had pointed out. They weren’t anyone you could recognize, at least not from this distance.

Echo let out a breath. “I know we’re the diversion, but… we need a diversion.”

You wasted no time leaning down to the dirt to grab a stone and throwing it in the opposite direction of where you were headed. It made impact with the side of a building, catching the hostiles’ attention as they jogged off in that direction.

Echo’s visor gave you an incredulous look. “How did you know that would work?”

You shrugged. “Not all these people are trained fighters. They’ll get jumpy at any sound they hear.” You gestured with your blaster to the way ahead. “Come on.”

You and Echo ran forward, finally reaching the edge of the village. Your search for explosives began on the outermost exteriors of the sparse village’s infrastructure, and it came up fruitless until you got to your fourth building. “Senator,” Echo announced, his voice a hushed whisper. “We’ve got one.”

You looked over his shoulder and saw the circular explosive. It had no indication of when it would detonate, and that meant only one thing. “They have to be activated.”

Echo’s visor found your gaze again. “We have no idea when they’re gonna be set off.”

You lifted the comm to your mask again. “Tech, do you have any data on what time the past attacks have taken place?”

“I do.” Tech was quick to answer, and even quicker to provide said data. “The times have been rather inconsistent, but… they do follow an odd pattern.”

“What kind of pattern?” Echo questioned.

“They always take place at the top of the hour.” Your blood started to roar in your ears. “Strategically speaking, that’s not very sound.”

You found your voice again. “What time is it now?”

“Nine minutes until the hour.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You and Echo shared a look that didn’t need expressions to be understood. Echo lifted his hand to his helmet. “Hunter, Wrecker, are you hearing this?”

“Affirmative.” Hunter somehow sounded calm and worried at the same time. He projected a comfort that was nothing short of admirable. “Wrecker’s already disarmed four of them on our side. It shouldn’t be long before we can help you two out.” You exhaled an anxious breath. “Crosshair, keep an eye on those hostiles. We might need you to make some stun shots for us.”

“I read you loud and clear.” Crosshair sounded enthusiastic—at least, as much as he possibly could.

“All right, Senator, I can disarm these.” Echo got right down to business. “I may not be as good as Wrecker, but I’ve got the tools for it.” He raised his right arm.

You nodded. “Be careful, Echo. I’ll lay down cover and keep searching.”

Echo returned your nod before he attended to the first explosive. You stayed close, but kept your blaster raised and studied the closest buildings you could for more. There were none you could see, and you didn’t know whether that relieved you or worried you.

It wasn’t long before Echo joined you again. “That’s one down,” he assured you. “Have you seen any others?”

“Not yet.” You grimaced as you turned a corner. “Assuming I haven’t missed any.”

“Trust your eyes, Senator.” Echo’s encouragement was a comfort you needed. “We don’t have time to double check.”

You nodded, focusing back on your surroundings. It was a delicate balance of staying quiet, moving fast, and checking every single thing your eyes touched—all while trying to evade enemies you couldn’t even see. Echo found a second, and while he disarmed that, you heard Crosshair over the comms again.

“Hunter, Wrecker, watch your six. Hostiles are about to round the corner.”

You bit your cheek in worry for them. The last thing you wanted was to have to actually stun anyone. It would be a whole lot more covert if you and the squad were able to get in and leave without any signs of detection, and an unconscious fighter would be the least helpful way to achieve that.

“Five minutes,” Tech warned.

Your chest was burning at the fast pace of your heartbeat as Echo finished disarming. You pushed onward, soon finding a third to Echo to work on. Your voice was a whisper as you spoke to the ARC trooper. “Where the hell did they get all these explosives from?”

“If the Separatists are backing them, then I’d expect they’d have a pretty endless supply.” Echo managed to answer even as he attended to the explosive.

You shook your head. “That’s who they really want in control of our homeworld.” The thought alone made you sick. “People who give them the resources to destroy our villages.”

“Sometimes, people lose sight of what they’re actually fighting for.” Echo provided the wise words as he finished. “It’ll never be enough for them.” He gestured with his helmet to the way ahead. “Let’s keep moving.”

You quickened your pace even as you remained attentive to every single thing you passed. You heard nothing more from Hunter and Wrecker, which hopefully meant that they averted the hostiles on their own. Echo was working on his fourth when you heard footsteps. Your grip around your blaster tightened. “Echo, we’re about to have some company.”

He lifted his free hand to the side of his helmet. “Crosshair—.”

He was too late. Two figures turned the corner, and you hesitated on the trigger for only a moment. It was the right call.

Hunter and Wrecker lowered their blasters before they jogged over to you. “We finally caught up to you,” Hunter said, his voice breathless as he looked between you and Echo. “How’d it go?”

“Assuming you searched everywhere else,” Echo started, “then this is the last one.”

“Three minutes.” Tech’s voice was as even as ever as he delivered the update. “At this time, I would recommend retreating back to the forest, in the event that there are any you missed.”

“I agree,” Hunter responded. “Echo, once you’re done, we’re heading out.”

“Shouldn’t we do a quick sweep before we go?” You couldn’t help speaking up on behalf of your people. “Respectfully, Sergeant, I don’t want to take the chance that any more of my people are hurt tonight. I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

Hunter’s shoulders rose and fell in consideration, and he tilted his helmet before he responded. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’ll stay with you.” He looked at Echo as the ARC trooper finished with the last explosive. “Echo, Wrecker, head back to cover. The senator and I will be right behind you.”

You would have smiled if the stakes weren’t so high. Wrecker and Echo shared a look before they nodded, with Echo’s hand patting your shoulder as he and Wrecker headed for the trees. You and Hunter began to backtrack the way you came as you offered him a quick glance. “Are you sensing anything?”

“Not yet.” Hunter’s steps began to slow. “At least, not explosives.” He began to turn his helmet over his shoulder. You followed the movement, holding tight to your blaster—but as you did so, you spotted something else.

It only took a split second for you to raise your blaster over Hunter’s shoulder and pull the trigger. One of the attackers hit the ground as you stunned them, causing Hunter’s helmet to whip in that direction. He knew exactly where to aim as he stunned the other one he had sensed behind him.

Hunter lifted his fingers to his helmet. “We’ve been spotted. Tech, monitor comms. Until then, Plan Double Zero.”

You furrowed your brow. “What does that entail?”

Hunter kept his voice low as the two of you began to pick up your pace once again. “Radio silence. I’m not taking the chance that we’re gonna be heard.” You nodded at that, allowing him to go on. “We’ll make contact once we know it’s safe.”

Just as you were about to turn your last corner, a shot rang out from that direction. You and Hunter both rolled to evade their fire, making it behind the cover of a building as you prepared to retaliate. Hunter’s body was shielding you from the direction of their fire, but they still had the open ground. He emerged a few times to shoot, but he hadn’t yet landed any shots.

“We’re pinned down.” Hunter somehow continued to sound calm even as he presented the dire reality of your situation. It began to make more sense as he reached for something on his belt. “I have an idea. When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can, and you shoot if you see anyone in your path. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Hunter returned your nod and faced the corner of the building again. He then pressed the button on the item in his hand and rolled it along the ground. It made a sound akin to that of a small explosion, and you saw the smoke that started to cloud the area just before Hunter gave the order. “Run!”

You both rose from your feet at the same time, and you kept him in front of you as you ran. The smoke bomb made it hard to see where you were going, but Hunter guided your path, the circles of his stun shots illuminating the space even more as he finally took down the hostiles in your path. For a moment, you could breathe in relief.

Then, you saw something else flashing in the smoke, a light that only got more and more rapid.

“Sergeant!” You cried out, causing his helmet to whip around. “We didn’t get them all!”

His visor stopped on something behind you, and he lunged in your direction. Hunter’s arms wrapped around you as he swung you in front of him and acted as your shield. All you could hear was a single blaster shot ringing out before the explosion dominated every other sense.

You hadn’t even remembered flying through the air or hitting the ground. The next thing you knew, there were two hands on the side of your face, which was no longer covered by your mask. You blinked your eyes open as best as you could, though the smoke and ash made them burn. You inhaled and instantly began to cough.

That’s when the helmet was placed over your head. The filter inside of it facilitated your breathing, and in just a few long seconds, you were able to get a grip on your senses once again. You sat up on your elbows as the hands that were on your face moved to your shoulders, and even though it was quite the adjustment getting used to the view through the sergeant’s visor, you could see Hunter kneeling over you.

“There you go.” Hunter’s worried eyes were giving you a once-over. “Are you okay?”

You let out a groan as you sat up more. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rolled your neck. “Just winded.”

Hunter nodded in relief. “Good.”

You smiled, believing him to be in the same condition as you, but that quickly faded when his eyelids began to flutter. Your brow furrowed as you snapped back into action, your hands now finding his shoulders as you assessed him. “Sergeant? What is it?”

You didn’t receive an answer. Hunter’s head hung low before he keeled over, landing on his side. Your heart leaped into your throat as you rose to your knees and held the side of his face.

“Hunter? Hunter?!” You tapped his cheek, but he didn’t wake. You cursed and observed him more closely, and that’s all it took to notice the scarlet on his left side.

It was then that you remembered the blaster shot you had heard before the blast. The shot was what Hunter was actually protecting you from, and part of it had clipped him badly enough to start bleeding him out.

You swallowed down a panicked gasp and leapt into action. The radio silence kept you from calling the squad for help, but you refused to wait for them, anyway. You would do it on your own.

For a moment, you observed where you were. The blast had at least knocked you both closer to the woods, and it was an area that was even more familiar than where you had been before. There was a hidden base from your freedom fighting days on this side of the village’s forest, and if you were lucky, it would still be completely abandoned.

The only challenge would be getting Hunter’s deadweight there.

Stars, give me strength. You rose to your feet and removed Hunter’s helmet from your head, placing it over his own to protect him. You hooked your arms around Hunter’s shoulders and pulled up, grunting as you used all your strength to do so. The adrenaline made you a hell of a lot stronger as you started to drag Hunter away from the heavy smoke and flames.

As you made your way to the secret base, your strength began to wither more and more, but you refused to stop. Hunter had sacrificed himself to save you from both a lethal bolt and an explosion, and you were going to give him that same effort right back. That wound could bleed him out if it wasn’t treated soon, and you weren’t going to let that happen.

You allowed yourself only a few breaks before you finally saw the outline of the old base. Thankfully, it was completely unattended, which likely meant the attackers of this village weren’t any of the fighters you were familiar with. You groaned with each movement as you heaved yourself and Hunter inside the rickety shelter, one that blended in well enough with the surrounding nature to keep the two of you secure for a while.

You propped Hunter up along the farthest wall and removed his pack from his back. Taking his torch and your own, you set them up to illuminate the dark space for you to see. You removed Hunter’s helmet and grimaced at the way his head hung in unconsciousness. Your hand cupped his cheek.

“I wish I could ask your permission, Sergeant,” you spoke to the open air. “But I have to save your life.”

You wasted no more time removing his poncho and the pieces of armor on his upper body, attempting to give yourself better access to his side. Once they were removed, you lifted the top half of his blacks, pulling the material over his head and tossing it aside with the rest. There would have been quite a sight to see if you weren’t so tunnel-visioned on the bleeding wound in his side.

Like any good leader, Hunter had a fully equipped medpac in his pack, and you broke it open to start attending to the wound. Your hands were precise even as they trembled, cleaning the wound and pressing on it to stop the bleeding the best you could. After a few minutes of pressure, you reached for the treatments, disinfecting the wound and coating it in at least three generous layers of bacta. The last touch was a bacta patch that you secured in place with a wrap.

It was only then you exhaled, knowing that your part was done. All you could do now was wait for him to wake.

You calmed your nerves by keeping yourself busy. The contents of Hunter’s pack also included emergency food and water, and you held on to the latter along with a dose of pain medication. It was in the midst of this careful organization that you finally heard Hunter stir.

The sergeant groaned as he attempted to push himself off the wall. You were quick to sit up more and set a hand on his bare shoulder, urging him back against the wall. “Easy, Sergeant.” You met his worried gaze and nodded. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Hunter tried to exhale a relieved breath, but he cut himself off with a tight growl as it tugged on his sensitive wound. “That’s not what I was worried about,” he confessed through gritted teeth.

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m fine. You, on the other hand…” you let the panic of all these events show for only a moment in your trembling voice, “you had a close call.”

Hunter’s gaze softened at you before it lowered to his patched up side. “I’ve had worse.” His brow furrowed as he looked up at you again. “How did we get here?” Hunter’s curious eyes observed your surroundings. “Where even are we?”

“It’s an old base. No one else will know about it.” You raised an eyebrow. “If they did, they’d be making use of it.” You gestured with your head to the entrance somewhere behind you. “I brought you here.”

Hunter’s eyes widened. “By yourself?”

You huffed. “I’m stronger than you think, Sergeant. Remember what I said before?” You ran your thumb over his shoulder. “I’m full of surprises.”

The corners of Hunter’s lips began to rise as he lifted his brow. “You really are, Senator.”

You returned his smile, though it started to fade as you focused on the hand you still had on his bare shoulder. You pulled it away and looked down as shyness overtook you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t ask your permission to… access your wound.”

Hunter’s hand found your chin just as it had earlier that morning, tilting your head up until your gaze met his again. His eyes sparkled at you even in the darkness of the base. “You don’t have to apologize for saving my life.”

You chuckled and raised your brow. “You saved mine first.”

Hunter shrugged, wincing at the movement. “I guess that makes us even.” He lowered his hand from your chin as he attempted to push himself up more.

You watched him with a careful eye before reaching for the water and pain relief. “Here.” You handed them off to him. “You’ll need this.”

Hunter smiled as he took them from you. “Thank you.” He took the medicine and swallowed it down, and you had to look away to fight the way the action flustered you for no good reason. As he set the water aside, he approached a new subject. “Where’s the squad?”

You sighed and shook your head. “Don’t know. We’re still radio silent.”

Hunter’s brow rose. “Still?”

You nodded. “Tech hasn’t said anything. The area must not be secure yet.”

Hunter’s gaze looked beyond you for a moment, no doubt focusing on the entrance to the base. “We have to get back to them.”

He started to sit up again, and you set a hand on his shoulder again. “Not in your condition. You have to rest more.”

Hunter furrowed his brow. “They could be knee-deep in combat right now. I can’t let them fight alone.”

You wanted to soften for him, but your concern wouldn’t allow it. “They can handle themselves, and you know that. They would want you to take care of yourself if they knew you were hurt.”

Hunter didn’t let up. “I’m not abandoning my squad.”

You exhaled a curt breath. “You won’t be helping anyone if you rush into a fight in this condition.”

When Hunter gently eased your hand off his shoulder and began to sit up more, you set both your hands firmly upon his chest, moving your body in front of him to act as a wall that kept him from pushing forward more.

Your voice left no room for argument as you gave the order. “You need to rest, Sergeant.”

Hunter’s stare never left yours as he responded. “I can’t rest when I’m this close to you, Senator.”

His words took you aback in a way you hadn’t expected. Your breath caught in your throat as you, too, observed how close the two of you had gotten. Your gaze fell to your hands, watching the way his scarred chest rose and fell in steady breaths underneath your palms. Your right hand was close enough to his heart to feel the way it raced, moving at nearly the same quick pace as your own.

And there it was again, the touch on your chin that urged you to drown in the depths of Hunter’s gaze. Everything shifted as the previous frustration you both held was exchanged for another, one that had been simmering between the two of you from the moment he first kissed your hand on Coruscant.

The invitation was there again. Hunter didn’t move, but he gave you the freedom to. This time, you didn’t weigh yourself down with the what-ifs, as Echo’s words and reassurances from before rang through the back of your mind instead. You moved closer to Hunter until his nose brushed yours, drawing a quiet, anticipatory breath from your lungs.

Even then, Hunter didn’t move. The choice was all yours. And this time, you were going to make the right one.

Your lips slotted over his in a way that felt natural, albeit still quite shy. You tested the waters as you breathed into him once, staying close enough to keep his nose against yours as you pulled away. He had given you the first choice, and you were giving him the second.

You wanted him to want it as badly as you did, and you wanted so much more. Thankfully, he did too.

Hunter’s hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, pulling your mouth back to his with the same desperation and desire that had been forcing deep down inside yourself. The shyness had all but vanished as your lips molded together, moving in perfect sync as your exploration of one another deepened. You raised a hand to the back of his hair as his free hand ran over the back of your leg, encouraging you to take your place upon him.

The moment his tongue pushed through, you lost any last shred of control you had, tightening your grasp on his locks as the fingernails on your other hand grazed over the skin of his chest. His hand on your thigh tightened and drew a pleased sigh from you that you released into him. There wasn’t a chance you were separating from him, not yet—and if you had it your way, not ever.

But Hunter had other ideas. He broke away only to lower his face to your neck, praising the sensitive skin there in a way you had never felt before. Your eyelids fluttered as you fought for some shred of sanity, but you couldn’t keep quiet. Your hand found his upper arm, and you gave it a squeeze to ground yourself as you practically cried out. “Hunter…”

It was the pleased hum against your neck that truly stole your last breath. You couldn’t take another moment apart, no matter how good this felt. The hand in his hair urged him back, and as soon as you had access, your mouth and your tongue were his yet again.

There was no conceiving how long this went on, and it didn’t matter. Nothing did, not as long as you were connected to him in this way. The adrenaline of everything that had happened was creating a dangerous mixture with the affection and desire that had long since been left unaddressed, and it was too addictive for either one of you to ignore.

Until the comm on your belt began to chime.

“Comms are clear,” Tech announced. “So is the area, as far as Crosshair and I can tell.”

You and Hunter broke apart, lips lingering as his mouth kept your upper lip captured in sweet surrender. You shared panting breaths in the air between you as your gazes met one another. It was hard to make sense of anything when all you could feel and taste was him.

But you could still tell Echo’s voice was worried even through the haze of your stolen moment with Hunter. “Does anyone have eyes on Hunter and the senator? Wrecker and I aren’t finding anything.”

The moment was over, and you would both have to face it. You continued to stare at Hunter even as you unclipped the comm from your belt and activated it. “We’re here. We took shelter until we knew it was safe. We’ll rendezvous at Crosshair and Tech’s position.”

Echo couldn’t hide his relief as he replied. “Glad to hear it, Senator.”

You put your comm back and released a sigh. Rather than looking at Hunter again, you focused on the pile of his armor at your side. As leaders, it was time to focus back on your people. He would understand that just as he had understood everything else. “Time to suit back up, Sergeant.”

Hunter nodded in your periphery to agree with you. Though he reached for the pile with a tight growl, you gently pushed his hand away, instead doing much of the work for him as you started with the upper half of his blacks. Silence sat between the two of you as he re-suited, but you weren’t sure what to make of it. You were both too far inside your own minds to really think about it.

His helmet was the last thing you secured in place for him, and you held it between your hands for a moment as your gaze studied his visor. This was something that would have to be discussed later. For now, he had to focus on his squad, just as he had let you focus on your own people before.

You stood and helped Hunter to do the same. He grunted at the movement, and you ducked low to swing his arm over your shoulders. You had already picked up both your torches and helped Hunter with his pack, and one last sweep of the base confirmed you had left nothing behind.

Nothing but the unspoken truth of what you had done, the remnants of which continued to linger on your mind, heart, and mouth with a sweet vengeance that was no doubt only going to make things even more difficult than they already were.

chapter 3 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 5

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb

senator’s shadow tag list: @violetlilly2020 @jellybeanstacey0519

#this might be one of the most insane things i've ever written. please enjoy this rollercoaster ride #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #tbb hunter x reader #hunter tbb x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #senator's shadow #dindjarindiaries

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anemoiashifts · 30 days

Text

how to detach for reality shifting.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ stop putting your dr on a pedestal.

we’ve heard this before but really. i mean it.

im going to assume if you’ve wanted to shift you’ve asked people what it is, asked shifting creators other questions, looked into theories. you were trying to expand your knowledge by looking for answers outwardly. looking for information isn’t a bad thing, but obsessing over what shifting is / isn’t can make shifting harder because your focused on the “what-if’s” & not living as you are. deciding to set out & rationalize shifting & policing others can be detrimental in your journey. this is why i say, i don’t care what shifting is because it’s something. & that should be enough.

the truth is, there is no 10000% concrete proof that shifting is this or that. there is no experiment that solidifies one theory or another, demeaning it as “correct”. they’re all just theories for a reason. so stop trying to rationalize is. find comfort in the unknown. in my opinion, that is the first thing needed in detachment. the letting go & elimination of overthinking how something works & just allowing it to work within time.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ “ill shift & things will be better. ill be happy, ill accomplish this. ill be better.”

your reality is a mirror of your thoughts & internal world. if you’re someone who thinks “this world is awful” you will subconsciously search for things that affirm those beliefs. i saw this example before & i think it really drives this thought home. if you see yourself in the mirror & notice your lipstick got on your teeth, you’re going to wipe it off your teeth. meaning, the mirror didn’t change. you did.

looking for external validation may unintentionally self-sabotage because you are not in the feeling of having it. you are searching for it which is you reminding yourself you do not have it yet.

don’t put off your happiness. allow yourself to feel everything you’re expecting in your dr at this moment. neville goddard once suggested the practice of living your life & imagine what it would be like if you had your desire. continue your imagination with the mindset that you’ve already shifted / manifested / achieved everything you’ve ever wanted until it shows in the 3d, when you are in full alignment. you are focusing on your desire, thus you will recognize it more & watch it show itself in your exterior. the 3d is a mirror to the mind.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ so how do we detach ?

there is no step by step, how to guide. in its simplest terms detaching is accepting & not obsessing over an outcome (when it comes, how you will achieve it) because you know it’s yours already. detaching doesn’t mean not caring or not thinking about our manifestations or —in this case— our desired realities. it means not overthinking your desires.

detaching is ultimately trusting yourself & the universe. that everything will work out in your favor no matter what.

you must change yourself before anything else. once the concept of self is changed, everything else in your life will follow. you decide what you are worthy of. you decide what life you want to live. you are the only one who can truly define yourself. every one else, every other person you have come across, only has their assumption & interpretation of you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

i want to take a moment to speak about timing. there is no set time your manifestation will come. everyone attracts at different rates. it takes some people days to shift for the first time, it takes others months and some it can take years. patience & persistence is vital in manifesting.

example. some people are able to solve math problems really fast & get every answer correct on exam. while others need more time to preform at the same rate as the students who are able to complete their work faster. the quality of the work is the same. vs if the person who needed more time on math exams rushed through every single problem resulting in getting the answers wrong. everyone goes at their own pace & that’s okay.

a second example. let’s say your baking a cake. you put in all the ingredients correctly, you have to correct sized pan. but when it comes to baking it — let’s say 45 minutes — you keep opening the oven door to check on it every minute. it’ll never cook. you have to give things time & the seeds you’ve planted time to grow.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

#reality shifting #desired reality #shifting #shiftblr #shiftok #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifter

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iiseult · 8 months

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RED-HANDED: Gyutaro x reader - College!AU (part 1)

CWs -> surprise! It’s pervy!Gyutaro, femdom reader, masturbation, degradation, spit play, public sex, slapping (only once and he likes it), calling Gyu a good boy, he’s pathetic and I love him

Note: Does this count as Kinktober? I really wanted to participate this month but I’m an engineering student in college, so enough said. I’ll make part two likeeeee whenever I feel like it. Pls lmk what u think!!!! <3

word count: 3k

It was Gyutaro’s turn to host the study session. All day he had been running around, cleaning his dorm room to eliminate anything potentially embarrassing. He’d never had a girl over before, let alone a girl like you, and he might have been overthinking it a little. Would you be turned off by the socks his roommate had left lying around? What about the smell? Should he hide the protein powder? He had such a big, fat crush on you, and every time he thought about the two of you spending time alone together, the intrusive thoughts would beat out the rational thoughts. In no time at all, he’d be succumbing to his sexual fantasies, fisting his cock desperately to images of you and trying to rid his mind of them to no avail. How was he going to survive a night of your undivided attention?

Originally, it wasn’t supposed to be a one-on-one thing. Every Tuesday, a different friend from the group hosted a late-night study session at their dorm, and everyone except Gyutaro had already volunteered. He couldn't avoid it any longer; he was doomed. It was supposed to be you, your best friend, his roommate, Gyutaro, and Gyutaro’s roommate, but everyone got frat flu the previous weekend and had to take a rain check. Even Gyutaro’s own roommate couldn’t make it, deciding to go home for the rest of the week and recover. So, everyone had canceled. That is, everyone except you and Gyutaro. He was thinking of just calling the whole thing off after that, secretly relieved to avoid having people over his place for a little longer, but you wouldn’t hear of it. Your midterm was on Thursday, and you couldn’t lose a valuable study session.

It was already 7:50 pm– 10 minutes before you were scheduled to arrive– and he was taking care of some last-minute, anxiety-fueled cleaning. The bed was already made, the garbage had been taken out, all his laundry was clean and neatly folded away, and his desk was set up for a long night of studying. He had even sprayed a few bursts of his roommate’s air freshener, making the whole place stink of “fresh morning dew,” whatever that was. In those last 10 minutes before your arrival, Gyutaro even found himself practicing basic hygiene– something a bit out of the ordinary for him. He brushed his teeth and tongue vigorously until his gums bled, washed his face, applied an extra layer of deodorant, and re-did the bun his hair had been rotting in all day. Now, he was ready.

At precisely 8:01 pm, he heard a knock at the door, and sprang to his feet as if the chair he had been sitting on was on fire. He had been staring off into space and nervously tapping his foot in anticipation, wringing his hands and chewing at his lip and fighting back dirty thoughts about what you might be wearing, and before he knew it, the time had come. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Evening, Gyutaro,” you said, half-smiling and leaning to the left under the weight of the heavy bag that was slung over your shoulder. As usual, you were well-dressed, sporting a white button-down, brown blazer, and a pair of blue jeans that fit you perfectly. He tried not to stare, but the top two buttons of your shirt had come undone, and he couldn’t help but notice how exposed your cleavage was. He gulped. This was going to be a long, long night.

“C-come in, make yourself comfortable. You can sit wherever you want,” he said, grinning nervously, stepping to the side and holding the door open to allow you entry. You nodded and brushed past him, your clothed shoulder grazing him gently. He shivered, hoping you wouldn’t notice. As soon as you entered the room, you made a b-line for Gyutaro’s bed, thrusting your bag onto it and plopping down unceremoniously on your back. You let out a sigh. The day had been stressful, and you wanted so badly to relax and release some tension, but there was work to be done.

After lying down for a few seconds to decompress, you noticed that it was oddly silent and sat up, half expecting Gyutaro to have joined you on the bed by now. But Gyutaro hadn’t moved from the doorway. He was still standing there, slack-jawed and staring. He couldn’t believe a girl was in his bed– you were in his bed– and she was there of her own free will. You had wanted to come, asking him not to cancel, and you had chosen his bed as the place to spend the evening. Not the desk and chair, not the floor, not the couch, but his bed. He gulped. He had imagined this many times before, and seeing you like that caused a specific few images to flash across his mind. His cock twitched. You were staring back at him.

“Gyu? Are you coming?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and readjusting yourself so there was room for him to sit next to you. He quickly shook himself out of his stupor and closed the door, walking awkwardly over to join you, hoping that if he put his hands in the pockets of his shorts you wouldn’t notice the growing bulge underneath them. When he reached the bed, he leaned his hips against the edge of it and crossed his arms, attempting to conceal his embarrassment. If you had noticed, you showed no signs of it, just crossing your legs and getting a little bit more comfortable.

“So, um… What subject did you want to study? Maybe we could work through some textbook problems together, or…” he trailed off, his eyes darting around and landing anywhere but you.

“Sure, sounds good. Hey, it’s hot in here, do you have a fan or something?” you asked, looking around and fanning yourself with your hand. Gyutaro frowned deeply and shook his head, suddenly feeling like a complete failure for not being able to provide you comfort.

“I’m sorry, I don’t. Maybe I could open a window?” he offered, gesturing to the pathetically small window on the other side of the room.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ll improvise,” you replied. He was about to ask what you meant, but stopped short when your hands flew to your button-down shirt, undoing two more buttons from the top like it was nothing.

“Wh-what are you d-doing?!” He stuttered, looking away from you and at the wall instead to try and distract his racing thoughts. Even though he tore his gaze away as soon as he realized what you were doing, he still couldn’t help but see the very top rim of your nude-colored bra poking out from your shirt teasingly. Not to mention the swell of your plump breasts. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to calm himself down and stop his now fully erect cock from getting any bigger.

“Gyutaro? What’s wrong, are you okay?” You purred, leaning down so you were face-to-face. He opened his eyes. That was a mistake. From the way you were sitting, he had a perfectly unobstructed view of your cleavage, which was spilling out of your bra and unbuttoned shirt. He guessed that your nipples were just below where the fabric began. His eyes widened, and a jolt of electricity was sent straight to his cock, which was straining desperately against the side of the bed. He let out a tiny, almost inaudible whimper, but due to your proximity, it was not lost on you. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, asking again if everything was ok, but there was a teasing undertone to your voice and a glint in your eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. Were you really…doing this on purpose?

“Uhm, don’t you think you sh-should, you know, b-button your shirt back up a…a little more?” he stammered, face flushed so red that he looked almost feverish. His eyes were still wide, and absolutely glued to your tits, like he was in a trance.

“Why? You don’t think I look pretty like this?” you teased, leaning forward even more and trailing your hand from his bony shoulder down to his bicep, which was, admittedly, larger than you’d anticipated. You wondered if anything else about him was larger than you’d anticipated…

“N-no! I mean, no, it’s not that! You…hah…look…” he rasped, not even able to form a complete sentence. He was no idiot. He knew what you were doing, playing with him like that. He knew you didn’t have any real interest in him, that you just wanted some easy attention from a pathetic virgin who would drool over anything with a cup size. It hurt, knowing that, and he didn’t want it to be that way. But just as much as that was true, he also wanted to know what it would feel like. Would it be as good as he imagined, cupping your heavy tits in his ugly, rough hands and running his thumbs over your sensitive nipples? Would you arch into his touch, begging for more?

Before you could even react, he was out the door, disappearing down the hallway towards the men’s room. You could only guess what he intended to do there. Probably cry, you assumed, having seen the expression on his face before he left. Instead of following him, you decided to give him a minute, hoping he’d come back before too long.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro knew what he had to do. He had to get rid of these feelings, get it out of his system once and for all. Thankfully, the bathroom was deserted and he had the luxury of solitude. He hoped he could get it done quickly before someone interrupted.

Gyutaro locked himself in a stall and pulled his pants down feverishly, finally freeing his throbbing cock and taking it expertly into his big hand. He wasted no time, pumping his fist up and down to the image of your tits in his face, imagining what it would be like to touch them, to take them in his mouth and suck them until they were black and blue. Before long, his head was thrown back and he was letting out soft, desperate pants. In fact, he was so enraptured in his fantasy that he didn’t notice when someone else entered the bathroom.

You had decidedly waited for him long enough, and went to go check to make sure he really was ok, but this was not what you were expecting to find. When you quietly opened the door, you were about to whisper his name when you noticed the wet slapping sound and choked-back moans coming from the first stall. You peered under the door and sure enough, your eyes were met with the sight of Gyutaro’s bottom half, shorts pooled around his ankles and legs shaking. You grinned. This was even better than you had hoped. Did that little trick you pulled really affect him this much?

“Gyuuu~ it’s just me! Open the door,” you said gently, hoping your sweet tone would lull him into a false sense of security. Suddenly, he went silent, freezing with his fist squeezing his cock. Panic seized him, and he was silent for a moment.

“Uh! Uhhh, h-how did you g-get in here?” he choked out, not knowing what else to say.

“Walked. C’mon, open up. Wanna see you,” you replied, now standing directly in front of his stall’s door. He hesitated for a moment, but soon made up his mind; he didn’t care anymore, he couldn’t stand it any longer and he wanted you to use him. He scrambled to quickly pull up his shorts and underwear, not even bothering to retie the drawstring, and opened the door hastily. His face was burning with shame, his eyes downcast, and his hair disheveled. To you, he had never looked more delicious.

“What are you doing?” you asked, taking a step towards him, forcing him to take a step back.

“Using the bathroom…” he lied, stuffing his hands back in his pockets again to try and hide his erection. Unfortunately for him, all it did was draw your attention downwards.

“You don’t have to hide it, Gyu. I already know. Why do you think I came tonight in the first place?” you asked, not even trying to hide the fact that you were eyeing his bulge hungrily.

“But-”

“Now keep going,” you ordered, and Gyutaro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He didn’t move.

“I said,” you began, grabbing his chin between your thumb and index finger, “Keep. Going.”

He whimpered, biting his lip, but obediently dropped his pants and underwear back down to his ankles and released his dick, the tip of which was bright red and slathered with precum. You moved your hand from his chin to his shoulder and pressed down, forcing him to sit back on the toilet. Now, you were standing above him, looking down with a perfect view. You looked at him expectantly, and slowly, he brought a shaking hand down to his shaft, gingerly engulfing it in his hand and giving it a few weak pumps. You shook your head disapprovingly, frowning at him. His eyes widened.

“This won’t do. You need…extra encouragement. Open your mouth,” you instructed.

“Why?” he asked demurely, but did as you asked. You didn’t answer verbally, instead choosing to show him why.

You pressed your thumb past his lips and onto the middle of his tongue, and his reaction was almost immediate. He stuck his tongue out more to accommodate your finger, eyes half-lidded and gazing up at you with…love? Lust? It was impossible to distinguish between the two when it came to him. Without a second thought, he resumed stroking his dick at the same pace as before, his body seemingly acting with a mind of its own. You smiled, pressing down harder on his tongue. His brows furrowed and a string of saliva dripped out of the corner of his mouth, falling past his chin and onto the floor. He let out a pathetic, strangled sort of sound, breathy and high-pitched, and you giggled. He was even better than you had imagined.

“Wowww, what a good boy!” you praised.

“Do you think you can take another one of my fingers?”

“Uh-huh! Eea, I eeea!” he tried to say, coming across as incoherent, but you got the message loud and clear. You smiled down at him lovingly and swapped your thumb for your index and middle fingers, which were obviously longer and grazed the back of his throat. Immediately, he gagged, his eyes involuntarily screwing shut, tears pricking their corners, but you didn’t relent. He would adjust.

“Come on, you can take it,” you crooned, thrusting your digits even further back into his soft, wet throat. He gagged again and bit down, catching your knuckles between his jagged teeth. He hadn’t bitten you very hard, but still, the sting of your skin breaking slightly was enough.

Without warning, you slapped him across the face with the palm of your other hand, making him yelp and accidentally squeeze his cock a little tighter. The sound echoed throughout the bathroom, ringing in the silence. He was shocked, even a little scared, but for some reason, it was affecting him heavily. After hesitating only for a brief second, he started pumping himself desperately, even faster than before, feeling like all the blood in his entire body had rushed to his cock at once the second your palm made contact with his cheek. You grinned. You knew it, you just knew it. You had a feeling he would like that. It was a risky move, but one you were glad you made. He let out another moan, the first real unrestrained one you had heard from him. The vibrations made your fingers tingle.

“Mmm, good boy, you’re being such a good boy for me, Gyu. Bet you’re getting close now, aren’t you?” you asked, removing your fingers from his mouth and allowing him to answer properly.

“Y-yes!” he breathed, “‘m getting so close, ‘m gonna cum soon! Please, c’n I cum?” he begged, tear-filled eyes gazing up at you in absolute desperation. And how could you say no to that?

“In a second. Stick out your tongue.”

He did, closing his eyes, eagerly ready to accept whatever you would give him, but nothing could have prepared him.

You leaned down close and spit in his mouth.

Immediately, he came.

“Ngh- Ahh! Huh- ah- ah- mmh!” he whined, voice breaking as the thick, white liquid shot violently out of his aching dick, covering his hand, your shirt, and part of his own shirt in globs of it. He worked himself through it, a few more spurts bubbling out from his tip and leaking down the shaft. There was so much of it, you knew he was holding it in for so long because of you. His thighs shook from the aftershock, and his chest heaved, he was so fucked out. You wanted so badly to just take off your panties and sink down onto his glistening length, sheathing him inside your already soaking, tight pussy to hear him whine that it was too much, but that would have to wait for another time. Maybe a time when you weren’t in a public restroom.

“Clean yourself up and meet me back in your room. There’s something else I want to try.”

With that, you left him sitting there, cock in hand, covered in his own hot cum and wondering if it had all just been a dream.

(pt. 2)

———-

tag list: @sanemisstalker @vampcubus @flametrashira

ermmmmm idk how tagging ppl works but if I tagged u it’s cause I want u to read this shit but no pressure :-)

#idk what this is #there will be a part two #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kinktober 2023 #dom!reader

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ethereal-engene · 3 months

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Don’t Do That | Sunghoon

pairing: bf!Sunghoon x fem!reader/self-insert

genre: angst, comfort, fluff, non-idol!AU & uni!AU

warnings: self-depreciating thoughts & not proof-read

word count: 1.1k

summary: Sunghoon comforts you when you get too into your head

Honestly sometimes it feels like your day doesn’t really start until you get to your last class which so happens to be calculus. Not to say that your other classes don’t stress you out, but when it comes to comparing the workload calculus wins all.

From the weekly homework, online quizzes, and lab quizzes. It felt like you were running a marathon every week. To a certain extent of each topic, you’d understand a good chunk of it with the occasional running into not understanding something.

However, those little setbacks made you feel so stupid & you couldn’t do anything but berate yourself. God forbid you celebrate what you do but focus on nothing but what you don’t understand.

It was an awful habit you had and despite trying to break that habit, you can’t help it. It’s even worse when you realize what a tiny mistake it is. Thinking to yourself: if you were just a little bit smarter or took your time with solving it, you wouldn’t have gotten it wrong.

To compound that stress, timed (and) test anxiety just crawls up behind you to give you the biggest and longest squeeze ever. Not being able to escape from their hold, you start to crack under pressure and give into their hug.

It doesn’t matter if you tell them to let go, they don’t listen. They’re quite stubborn and refuse to listen to rationality… which is exactly how they got here in the first place. The overthinking and stressing over a weekly lab quiz not so subtly invited those two others. The irrational thoughts received a cue to send them over.

Actually they paid a visit when you took your weekly lab quiz this week. It was an awful experience, to say the least. You were stuck on the first question and kept on trying to resolve it as many times as needed in order to find the right solution. To no avail, you never found it.

It felt embarrassing when too you realized that being focused on getting one question right, left you to finish two other questions that you hadn’t either started or finished. But how could you focus when you couldn’t even get past the first question? It frustrated you the entire time.

The bad thoughts by then already started flowing in. Calling you stupid, idiot, and dumb. Thinking to yourself, if you can’t do this, what will you do on the exam??

The time eventually reached the end of class and all you could think about was how freaking stressful and miserable you did on this. It crushed your spirit and confidence into tiny little pieces. All you wanted to do was figure out how to do it and learn from this so that you never make this mistake again.

Being so in your negative thoughts, you barely heard your boyfriend call your name. He was walking beside you, and when you didn’t respond, he decided to walk in front of you. Maybe in hopes to get your attention and to see what was up. It wasn’t like you to ignore him.

He took a glance at your face wearing a pitiful look and at your phone. Along with your silence filling the space between you two. Sunghoon was able to piece together.

God he hated when you did this. It hurt him to see you be so mean to yourself when you would literally give anyone else encouragement or comfort when they needed it. Who was going to do that for you? The answer is always going to be him.

You won’t ask for it but your face & actions say it all. While you’re still feeling upset about your quiz, you walk into something… that turned out to be someone. Not even looking up, you apologize and try to walk past them.

However, Sunghoon gently grabs a hold of your arm. Making sure to not let you go. Only then do you look up and see your sweet boyfriend. All you want to do is cry in his arms and tell him how bad the test was. But you don’t, instead you just hold his hand.

Sunghoon thought he’d be able to elicit a reaction out of you with that but fails. So he opts for the next best thing, giving you a forehead kiss and making sure you make eye contact. He needs to see that you’re okay, even though he knows you’re not.

When his lips land on your forehead, your eyes and his meet. He can see the light in your eyes dimming. Sunghoon wishes nothing but to make you feel better.

Still no reaction and no response. You guys continue walking to your next class in silence. Finally he can’t take it anymore and says to you, “Stop. Don’t do that.”

Your eyes find him and try to play coy. Tilting your head and raising your eyebrows. You know he probably knows but you don’t want to admit it. “Don’t do what? Hold your hand?” A nervous chuckle leaves your mouth in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“No. You know what I mean. You’re being mean and harsh on yourself again. I’m not saying that you can’t be upset about a grade but baby, you have so many more chances to do better next time. Plus, why don’t you ever give yourself credit for trying the best you could or be glad that you understand some of it? It hurts me that you do this to yourself.”

His eyes lock eyes with yours. A little stare down is happening and he doesn’t intend to lose. Your eyes eventually look back to the ground.

“A bad grade won’t ruin your life… mostly but I know who you are. A smart, kind, lovely, and hard-working woman. Someone who doesn’t give up, usually. You also have been going out of your comfort zone to even ask questions, when I know you normally would just hope someone else asks it too.” Sunghoon gently lifts your head back up to hold your face in his soft hands.

“I’m proud of you always but my love, you have to be gentle with yourself. You’re doing great! Give yourself some grace so that you can ace anything.” Kissing your hand, he releases your face and continues walking with you.

You stop him from walking to give him a cheek kiss and thank him. “You always know what to say, Hoonie. Thank you for always being my voice of reason and encouragement. I appreciate you more than the words I love you can even mean.” Upon hearing that, a smile appears on his face.

“You know I’ve always got you, love.”

I severely needed this a few weeks ago 😭 actually lowkey last week and the week before. I was so mad and upset at for not doing better, but anyways !! I hope you get to let how you feel about a situation flow through and let it out. And also slowly let it go because it's temporary. May your hard-work and efforts get you where you want to be & I'm cheering you on the sidelines :))

signing off with love,

- ash

#kflixnet #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #engene #enhypen comfort #enha comfort #sunghoon x female reader #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon comfort #enhypen x female reader

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alisonfelixwrites · 2 months

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Informed consent: chapter 6

Word count: 10,707

Harry was a man addicted.

Even after just the few little kisses he and Mia had shared outside in the hall, he knew he’d never find anything like her ever again. Nor did he want to. This was it, she was it and he was completely fine with it.

His eyes followed along her figure as she opened up the door for them, tip-toeing inside before she unzipped her boots and I followed her example, taking off my shoes.

She took off her coat as well and revealed the pretty floral top she wore today. Silently, she padded over to one of the closed doors in the apartment and stopped in front of it, listening for a moment. Mia then turned around with a small smile, “Hazel’s asleep.” She whispered.

Harry smiled back and nodded, also taking off his coat. The apartment was mostly dark and Mia flicked on a few lights in the living area. After closing the glass door that separated the bedrooms from the kitchen and living room, she stopped walking on her toes and she stopped whispering.

Harry found it endearing how she cared for her roommate’s wellbeing, careful not to make too much noise around midnight. On the other hand, he found everything Mia did endearing.

“Do you want anything to drink?” She asked, the usual tone of innocence in her voice. Harry slowly walked around the room again as if it was his first time being here and glanced at her over his shoulder, “Are you having anything?”

Mia shrugged softly, “Maybe some tea?”

“Tea’s good.” Harry smiled back before sitting down on the couch. Silence ran between them and both started overthinking just a smidge. Outside the door, the mood was a little hot and intimate. Now Mia was in the kitchen, busying herself with the tea as Harry nervously rubbed his hands up and down his own jean-covered thighs.

Maybe she didn’t like the kiss as much as he thought? Maybe she only invited him in to be polite? Maybe she didn’t want to take it any further and this was just a nice goodbye?

Harry knew that out of the two of them, Mia was supposed to be the nervous wreck and he was supposed to be the rational one. But this girl just turned his life upside down and he couldn’t rely on any knowledge he knew about women. Mia just managed to turn him so nervous for some reason.

“Here you go.” She softly smiled, breaking his train of thoughts as she joined him on the couch, putting down the tray with cups and the steaming water, “D’you want the same as last time? I also have like – uh… green tea or black tea. Or jasmine.” Mia listed.

Harry offered her a gentle smile, his fingers clasped together in his lap to keep his hands from shaking, “’M good, love. What you gave me last time was good.”

“Okay.” Mia breathed, trying to keep her trembling hands under control as she poured them both a cup. The apartment was silent as they got comfortable on the large couch, a decent distance between them.

Mia wanted to be closer, but she didn’t know how to ask him or what to do. She was so shy and reserved and found it hard to initiate anything. She hoped she didn’t give Harry the idea that she wasn’t interested, it was just hard for her to take those first steps. She had appreciated that he had done that up until now, as the more experienced one and seemingly the one with the level head as she struggled to find words whenever he was near her.

“So how did you two find this place?” Harry questioned as his eyes went around the room. He admired the apartment from his seated position on this very comfortable couch. His dorm was nothing compared to this, but he also knew he paid about one third of the price Mia had to pay for rent.

Mia sat up on the couch a little, happy for the breaking of silence, “Hazel’s older sister used to live here and rented it for a few years when in uni. So then she moved out and Hazel got the first pick. And I responded to her Facebook message in one of those groups, you know?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. That’s cool.”

“And then she invited me over to check it out and get to know her, and we hit it off quite quickly. I didn’t think she’d like me all that much. Hazel’s so bubbly and spontaneous and I’m very quiet, especially when meeting someone at first. But I brought her flowers and she was very surprised.”

“You brought her flowers?” Harry asked with raised brows and Mia nodded, “I did. As a thank-you that she invited me and gave me a chance to see the apartment in person.”

Harry’s grin grew, “Well then of course she picked you. A sweetheart like you showing up with a bouquet of flowers, bet she was sold immediately. Who wouldn’t be?” The compliment rolled off his tongue easily and Harry didn’t miss the way Mia blushed slightly at his words.

She had done the same thing when he called her sweetheart back at the restaurant, and he found it – once again – completely endearing.

“Would you be sold?” Mia picked up her bravery and dared making eye contact with Harry, who tilted his head to the side with a small smile, “If you showed up at my door with flowers? Of course. I might be a man but I love receiving flowers.”

Mia giggled under her breath and nodded, “Okay.”

“How about you?”

“Oh,” Mia lifted her head with a gentle smile, “I’ve never received flowers. But I guess I’d really like it if someone did that, it seems nice.” Mia wasn’t sure why, if she was honest. Flowers seemed like a stupid thing, something disposable. They sat in a vase for a while, looking pretty, until they welted and you had to throw them out. Yet somehow, she loved the idea and it felt romantic.

“We’re going to have to change that soon.” Harry mused and Mia blushed again. Her heart was drumming against her ribcage and her fingers mindlessly played with her hair. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Harry, who was so enchanting and mesmerising she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to how beautiful he was.

“You’re staring, love.” Harry teased playfully and Mia nibbled her lip, casting her eyes down, “Sorry.”

Harry scooted a little closer, “Don’t apologise. It’s cute.”

Mia felt her cheeks heating as she twisted her fingers around a little and Harry shuffled a little closer, his knee bumping into hers on the couch. The steaming cups of tea on the table were a little forgotten as Harry’s hand found Mia’s, and he gently stroked the tip of his pointer finger over her middle knuckle, “You’re so cute.” He sighed out.

Mia lifted her eyes, falling back into that dreamy state when looking at him. She melted into the couch a little, their eyes catching together. Mia sighed through her nose, “You’re very sweet, Harry.”

“Yeah?” He softly smiled, “Am I a sweetheart as well?”

Mia giggled a little and nodded, “Definitely.”

“Then I guess we’re a pair of sweethearts, the two of us.” He mumbled playfully. Mia hardly knew how to contain her giddiness and Harry licked his lips, “Am I sweet enough to get a little kiss from you?”

Mia’s heart skipped a beat. Actually, it skipped two beats. The first because she realised Harry wanted to kiss her again and the second was more of a heart skip in anxiety because he wanted her to kiss him. Mia had been nervous the entire time, but it helped that Harry just guided her through, but now he wanted her to take initiative and make the move.

Harry saw the anxiety written all over her face and brought his hand up to gently stroke two fingers down her jaw, “Hm? Y’tasted so sweet earlier, can’t get enough.” He murmured to coax her. Mia exhaled a shaky breath, everything inside of her screaming to just kiss him.

Mia stayed silent, trying to think of how she could ask Harry to take over, how she could explain that she didn’t even know how to do this, until he once more sensed the spiral in her brain and inhaled a breath, “D’you want me to close my eyes?”

Her heart rate calmed down just a tad as she offered him a small smile and nodded, “Yes, please.”

“Okay.” Harry chuckled before licking his lips and leaning back on the couch, closing his eyes softly.

Mia took a moment to look at him. Her cheeks were pink, knowing she was about to kiss him but for the first time she didn’t try to hide it. He couldn’t see her either way. His lashes rested gently on the tops of his cheeks, just a hint of a smile tugging on his lips as he waited for her to make her move.

Mia repositioned her legs, adjusting a little on the couch until she was closer to him.

With her breath in her throat, Mia leaned in until she was just inches from him. Harry swallowed thickly, sensing her presence as he could feel the lengths of her hair resting on his arms with her hovering over him. Mia puffed out a soft breath that hit his lips before she took the leap and quickly pecked his lips.

She pulled back with red cheeks and Harry threw his head back in a cackle. “Mia,” He laughed, still keeping his eyes closed, “c’mere and give me a proper kiss. I wasn’t prepared, couldn’t even kiss you back.”

Mia bit her lip to hide her smile and exhaled before doing it again, her lips tingly from the first short kiss she pressed to his lips. She licked her bottom lip, leaned in and closed her eyes too before joining their lips together again.

Harry was more prepared this time, puckering his lips back against her and his hand immediately came up to softly grasp her chin and keep Mia in place. She shuddered at the touch but melted into it, keeping their lips together. Harry savoured the feeling of Mia’s soft lips against his. She was a little reserved but it surprised him altogether that she went for it.

He could feel her balled hands holding her up next to his thigh, the position just slightly uncomfortable for her.

They pulled back for air, Harry’s eyes dancing over her face as he used his thumb to softly hold her chin. He moved it up, tracing her moist bottom lip as he panted out breaths. Mia stared intently in his eyes, cheeks flushed and breath completely stolen.

She buckled through one of her elbows with a surprised gasp and Harry’s touch slipped from her lip. Mia held herself up and fought her smile, “Sorry.” She giggled, breaking the tension a little. Harry’s fingers ran up her covered arm as he smiled back, “’S okay, love. You’re not too comfortable, are you?”

Mia softly shook her head before drawing a breath, “But I want to be close to you.” She softly pouted, her bottom lip jutting out and Harry just wanted to bite it.

Harry swooned as he smiled at her, “I want to be close to you too, sweetheart.” He crooned before tucking some hair behind her ear, “D’you want to sit on my lap?”

Mia wondered to herself how she was going to survive this night, and how she was going to survive him in general. Her breath came out in a little stutter before she managed a nod. Harry hummed, “Go ahead, love.”

With her lip tucked tightly between her teeth, Mia kept her eyes on Harry’s as she swung her leg over his thighs. She watched intently as he had his gaze focussed on the way her legs split for him, his breath caught in his throat. Mia dared moving one hand to his shoulder, now sitting on his thighs on the couch, straddling him.

The longer they stayed silent, the redder her cheeks became until Harry’s eyes reached hers again – after dragging up her body in the most slow, torturous pace. He exhaled a sharp breath, “How’s that?”

Mia shifted a little, putting more of her weight on Harry’s shoulder with her hand as she readjusted herself. Her bunny slippers plopped to the ground and the material of her slacks tightened around her legs, “Comfy.” She breathed out.

“You look so pretty.” Harry praised in a murmur, his eyes dragging from her split thighs up to her face – not without lingering a little on her chest which was more on his eye level now. Harry was thinking the most sinful thoughts and tried hard to keep them to himself.

Mia was worth the wait, she was worth everything, Harry decided. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t growing hard in his pants just from her sitting on his lap like he had dreamed of. He wanted to take off her top with his teeth and have her whining out his name in that pouty voice of hers, begging for him as she ran her fingers through his hair and he had his lips around her nipple.

Harry exhaled a shaky breath and gently placed his palms down on the length of Mia’s thighs, keeping his eyes on her face, “This okay?”

She tensed up a little, partly because the touch sort of tickled her. She blushed a soft pink before nodding, “Yes.”

Harry shot her a gentle smile, “Good.”

Mia took a breath and licked her lip, “Can I kiss you again?”

“Of course, m’love. I want nothing more.” Harry’s grin grew, his dimples showing and Mia smiled back with a tinge of nervosity in it. Harry gently kneaded her thighs and then moved one hand to her free one, gently guiding it up to his shoulder too. Mia felt comfortable in the position, a little elevated from Harry as she sat perched up on his lap with her hands on his shoulders.

She bowed her head a little and leaned down just as Harry tilted his chin up, and they met in the middle. She sunk into him completely, fingers digging into his shoulders as their lips folded over one another. Harry felt him gripping her thighs a little harder as his eyes fluttered close and he kissed Mia back.

Slowly but surely, he dared slipping his palms up to her back. Mia left breathless kisses on Harry’s waiting lips, her body arching into him more as her form fitted his and they were flush together on the couch. Mia had never felt closer to another person.

They drew back for air, one of her hands now in his neck and the other on his shoulder. Her hair fell around them a little like a curtain and Harry bumped his nose into hers, catching her panting breaths between his lips, “Y’gonna let me in, love?”

Mia swallowed through the dryness in her throat, feeling his fingers dancing up her spine. She was going crazy. Her brain was exploding, her body was liquified and she couldn’t even think straight or speak, just nod. She was going to nod to whatever he suggested at this point, she just knew she wanted more of this, more of him.

She assumed that by letting him in, he meant he’d try the same thing he did outside the door when they first kissed. She nodded, their lips continuously brushing together. Harry hummed at her agreement, “Just let me do the work, yeah? Don’t have to do a thing, sweetheart. Jus’ open your lips a little for me, need to taste you.”

Mia swallowed down a moan that was threatening to spill from her mouth, and she arched more into him. Her breasts were pushed into his chest and Harry kept her close with his arms around her. She nodded again, “Y-Yes.” She whispered against his mouth, eyes still closed.

Harry rewarded her with a slight squeeze closer to his body and Mia keened into the touch, slipping her fingers up into his hair which made Harry tremble. He kept his eyes on her closed ones for a second before kissing her again. His lips smeared against hers, easily finding one another by now and he got her comfortable for a bit until dragging the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip again.

Mia felt the throbbing between her legs intensifying with the movement and involuntarily pressed herself down on Harry’s thighs, her fingers tightening in his hair before she used her final braincell to part her lips just a smidge.

Harry sighed through his nose when he felt it, easily slipping his tongue into her mouth to lick into her. Mia wasn’t sure what to do, but she wasn’t nervous anymore. Harry guided her through it, her lips following the shape of his as he opened and closed and with each open, he gently rolled his tongue inside of her mouth, licking over the roof and finding her own tongue.

Mia pressed herself closer into his chest, head tilted to the side as she felt dizzy upon feeling his wet tongue massage her own. She dared pushing her own tongue out to give him something back, and Harry grunted from the back of his throat as a response.

It spurred Mia on, trying again to kiss him back with each parting of his lips. Eventually they broke apart with a little smack to catch their breaths. Spit slicked lips and harsh breaths filled the room as Harry moaned softly, pressing his mouth to the column of her throat. His hand had travelled higher to tangle in her hair and his other one was in a more daring place – on her ass cheek that he could about fit in his entire palm. And Mia wasn’t even thinking of stopping him, she loved his hands on her too much to ever deny it.

Harry kissed up the side of her throat and her jaw, eventually kissing her bottom lip a few times and Mia leaned down before they were caught in another making out session. Harry gripped her ass and Mia involuntarily scooted up in his lap a little. She was fully hunched over him as Harry held her, and she had never felt more confident or sexy.

He was still taking the lead – which she was grateful for – but she was on top and somehow had the superior position. She knew Harry could throw her around like a rag doll if he really wanted to, but she felt sexy like this.

Scooting and shifting on his lap made Harry tense as he emitted another groan at her fidgeting and Mia’s eyes suddenly shot open when she felt the hardness against her thigh.

She pulled back from the kiss sharply with wide eyes, and Harry lazily caught on with half-open eyes, moving his head along with hers, chasing her lips with his own. They were moist and pink and he pecked her lips once, “Sorry.” He panted, clearly already aware of why she was so surprised.

Mia caught her breath and stared down between them, seeing the bulge in Harry’s pants into his left leg. She nibbled her swollen lip, “A-Are you – uh…”

“Yeah.” Harry sighed while nodding, gently palming her waist, “’M sorry, love. Tried to stop it, I really did, but I can’t help it. Not when you’re kissing me like that and looking like this. I just really, really want you.” He murmured, leaning up again to catch her in a small kiss.

Mia wasn’t sure what to answer and Harry moved one hand up to cup her cheek, tracing his thumb over her wet lip, “’M not expecting anything, sweetheart. No worries. It’ll go away.”

“I-I’m not –“ Mia interrupted herself with a thick swallow, “I’m not ready for that.”

“I know.” Harry nodded, “I know, and that’s okay. We’re not in a rush, are we? Got all the time in the world.”

Mia felt herself relaxing a bit and nodded at his words, “Okay. Are you – uh… are you okay with that?”

Harry offered her a gentle smile and kissed her jaw, “Of course, m’love. I’m okay with anything if it’s with you. We don’t need to do anything until you’re comfortable and ready.”

Mia exhaled a relieved breath and then realised she was stroking her fingers through his hair without realising. She felt close to him, leaned all the way into him with their bodies pressed together. It was warm and comforting and safe and she puckered her lips softly to kiss the high of his cheekbone. She felt him smiling as he responded by kissing her jaw again.

“And… how many people have you… you know?” Mia carefully asked. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer, but on the other hand she felt like there was no right or wrong. Harry had only known her a few weeks and he was good looking, charming and young. She couldn’t hold it against him for experimenting and having experiences.

He chuckled into her throat as he slid his palms up her back again, “How many people have I been with?”

“Yes.” Mia squeaked out. Harry hummed, “Uh… eight, I think. Yeah, eight.” He settled on answering.

Mia’s brows raised, “Oh.”

“Oh?” Harry snickered, “Is that a good or a bad ‘oh’?” He used his hands to pull Mia back, who abandoned her hand in his hair to tuck her own behind her ear and fiddle with the earring in her lobe – a nervous trait of hers that Harry had already caught on. She nibbled her lip and shrugged, “Just neutral. I-I don’t know, I was just curious. I’ve never – uh… I’ve never been with anyone.” She confessed in a whisper.

Harry smiled softly, “Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing, hm? I don’t care about that, Mia. You’re young and you just got to uni, it’s really not that exceptional that you haven’t slept with anyone. I have friends who haven’t taken that step, who wait for the right person or who just don’t feel like doing it. Everyone should just choose for themselves.”

Mia once more found herself surprised with Harry’s extremely laid-back reaction to anything she had ever been nervous about confessing to him. Her dyslexia, her asking him to read the menu, her not having kissed anyone and her being a virgin. She wasn’t sure what reactions she had expected, but Harry just made her feel so safe that she knew she could trust him.

She nodded at his words, feeling a little more confident already, “And when did you have your first time?”

He leaned back again in thought, puckering his lips, “Like a few weeks before I turned nineteen. Around new year’s, I think. I had been at uni for a few months by that time, in my first year.”

Mia felt loads better about herself. Harry had been with eight people in the timespan of nearly two years. Somehow she always thought she was really old to still be a virgin, like there was some clock hanging above her head and society pushed her into having sex and getting it over with. Mia had never been particularly interested in sex before meeting Harry, who just made her feel things she had never experienced before.

“Like I said, no need to rush.” Harry softly murmured, “We can take it slow, I’m completely fine with that.”

Mia smiled down at him, “Thank you.” She piped out, shortly kissing him again. Her toes curled from the sensation of having his lips against hers, and she just knew that by the time he walked out the door to go to sleep, she’d miss the feeling of him this close.

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

Mia couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face when she woke up the next morning. Her phone lit up with messages from Hazel – who was just in the other room – asking her if she could come in or if Harry was in Mia’s bed.

Mia blushed at the words and nibbled her lip, typing a message back to say that Harry went to sleep at his own place and that Mia was by herself, bundled in the warm covers. She wished Harry had stayed the night but once again found herself too shy to suggest anything like that.

She wasn’t exactly sure how to navigate this thing. She liked kissing him and feeling him close, but grew anxious at the thought of anything more than that – although it also excited her. Mia wasn’t sure if it was a right move to reject him the one second and invite him to stay the night the other.

So she got in her head and let him leave when they had been kissing for what felt like hours. She grew a little more confident in it, still letting Harry guide her through but her fingers had toyed with his soft hair and she learned he really liked that. Harry’s palms had constantly spread over her back or her thighs, with sometimes one palm dropping to the curve of her ass to assist her a little in shifting on his lap.

The bulge in his jeans that pressed against her thigh, hadn’t left until he did. She grew a little more used to it over time but had to admit it freaked her out at first.

She didn’t expect it to be so… hard. It seemed painful, but Harry didn’t complain. He just held her close, took pleasure in licking into her mouth and pulling her through breathless kisses, and didn’t complain once about her weight on his legs.

Mia bit her lip with a wide smile when she noticed that even before Hazel spammed her with an array of messages – most of which just containing question marks and smirky emojis – she also had a text from Harry.

Message from: H. Sinclair

Good morning, beautiful. Had a good sleep? Xx

Mia giggled with her face buried into the covers, kicking her feet as she drew a breath, typing back.

Message to: H. Sinclair

Good morning, Harry :). I did, I just woke up. How about you? Xx

A knock on the door made Mia lock her phone, and she turned around in her bed before sitting up a little, “Come in, Hazel.”

The door opened with Hazel’s wide grin being the first thing Mia saw. Hazel poked her head in, “Hi.”

Mia giggled and wrapped my sheets around her body a little more, “Hi.”

Hazel squealed and ran in, jumping on the bed before getting under the covers on the other end. Mia smiled widely at her, both on their sides in the double bed. Hazel’s teeth shivered softly and she bundled the comforter around her a bit more, “Fuck, it’s such a cold day.”

“Hazel.” Mia scolded her cursing and she rolled her eyes, “Tell me how it went! I slept with ear plugs, you know, just in case you guys decided to do the nasty.”

Mia blushed at that, “Stop, we didn’t.”

“But you’re smiling either way.” She teased and Mia couldn’t hide her lips as they curled up high in a genuine smile, “I like him so much.” She confessed in a whisper.

Hazel squealed again and Mia giggled as she scooted a little closer, “Okay, okay, tell me everything.”

She told Hazel about Harry picking her up and taking them to that Italian restaurant. Mia of course didn’t let out the little detail about Harry being a perfect gentleman and offering to hold her freezing hand and tuck it both into his pocket.

Hazel gasped at that, praising Harry for being so respectful and said it sounded like something out of a movie. Mia found herself agreeing completely, because that was how it felt like. How he felt like. Mia told her about how she asked him to read her the menu and how Harry didn’t even question it but just did so without missing a beat. Hazel swooned over that as well and Mia blushed pink as she relived the entire dreamy night.

She continued how they talked about everything school and choices, how she spoke a little about her parents and Daniel and how he said that thing about butterflies. Mia couldn’t remember it very well because her ears had been so fuzzy while staring at him. His mouth just moved in such a mesmerising way, his teeth on display as he smiled wide and the dimples popping. It was almost enough to make her faint every time.

“So then he walked me back here after we shared some dessert.”

“What’d you have?” Hazel interrupted them and Mia took a breath, “Red velvet cake.”

Hazel’s lips formed an ‘o’ as she broke out into a smirk, “That’s such a sexy dessert, damn Mia.”

“Oh, hush.” Mia chuckled before licking her lip, “Harry paid for dinner and promised me I could pay next time, and t-“

“So there’s gonna be a next time?!” Hazel gasped, once more interrupting Mia in all her enthusiasm. Mia grinned at her excitement and nodded, “I definitely hope so.”

“Continue, continue.” Hazel urged her, her glasses sitting a little funny on her nose as she laid on her side and the pillow squished them a little. Mia smiled, “Harry walked me home, went up to the door… and he kissed me.”

“He kissed you?!” Hazel exclaimed. Mia screwed her eyes shut with a loud giggle, “I know!”

“Oh my god! Fuck! Mia! Fuck!” Hazel cursed and Mia laughed out loud at Hazel’s inability to keep the nasty words down in pure excitement. Hazel nearly bounced on the bed, “Tell me more!”

“Okay, so,” Mia smiled, “he was really gentle about it, asked me if he could kiss me and I said yes.”

“Oh my god.”

“And then he suggested we went inside because the lights kept going on and off in the hallway. You know how they’re automatic and all, it’s actually really annoying.” Mia continued and Hazel eagerly nodded, “I know, I know. What happened next?!”

Mia blushed softly, “So – uh, we came in and sat on the couch for some tea. And we spoke a little and then he asked me if I wanted to kiss him. And I said yes, so he closed his eyes and – uh, I kissed him.”

“Oh my god.” Hazel repeated and Mia chuckled, “A-And then…” She drew a breath while turning pink, “I got on his lap.”

“Oh my god!” Hazel gasped this time.

“And we kissed more. Like… intense.” Mia punctuated it and Hazel’s eyes nealyr popped out of her head, “You snogged?!”

Mia hid her face and Hazel continued cursing out. Mia nearly choked on her giggles and pushed the comforter down below her chin, “He – uh, like really guided me through it. It was so nice, Hazel. He was so patient and sweet. He’s just so sweet.” Mia sighed dreamily.

“Well, fuck,” Hazel laughed, “I didn’t expect this.”

Mia nibbled her lip with a grin, “You didn’t?”

“Not really.” Hazel shrugged, “I mean, I didn’t think you’d like him that much, I would’ve thought him to not really be your type. But I guess that’s just… first impressions. Like the two of you just look so different, y’know? He’s all dark and tattoos and you’re basically a representation of bubblegum pink.”

Mia’s smile slowly faltered as she took in Hazel’s words, “Huh.” She murmured.

“But that’s good!” Hazel countered, “Like you’re exploring and he’s surprising you and you’re probably surprising him!”

But Hazel had somehow planted a seed in Mia’s brain and she wasn’t sure how to handle these emotions. This insecurity. Mia didn’t think she had a type. She knew she didn’t particularly find Daniel attractive, but also felt like that had more to do with his personality and how he carried himself. Harry was just so interesting. And smart.

But, Mia realised, maybe she wasn’t his type. Mia was a class one overthinker and she knew that. Stupid things could keep her up, could make her worry, to the point she blew it out of proportion. She spun out and exaggerated things for herself, making an elephant out of a mosquito while she was unable to look at certain things from a distance or a different perspective.

Hazel was often the one to make her realise that things weren’t even half as bad as Mia had made them out to be in her head. Like when she was scared the entire cafeteria had heard her dropping her bottle of water before she picked it up with pink cheeks. Or how the entire school must’ve heard that she missed that final step and sort of clumsily stumbled down it.

Whenever she saw that disappointment in her parent’s eyes after giving them certain news, Mia often lost sleep for weeks. Approval was truly what she lived for, some sort of validation. She thrived on it, receiving praise.

She wondered if Harry’s stomach would still contract with butterflies if he got to know that side of her. Mia knew she wasn’t able to conceal it, at least not for long.

Maybe Hazel was right. Maybe they were an unconventional match and whoever saw them together probably thought they didn’t fit and it wouldn’t last. Maybe Harry only liked the superficial layer of her that he had gotten to know.

Even though Mia tried to come to terms with her imperfections – and she had loads of them – she wasn’t sure if others wanted to learn them too. If Harry would appreciate her being not so perfect every once in a while. This anxiety about it mostly stemmed from her parents. Who did not approve of her being imperfect, even for the smallest of moments.

It was exhausting. And she wanted to shine bright for Harry, but she wouldn’t be able to do that at all times. Everything he had learned about her so far, he seemed perfectly happy with. Even the little parts she was less proud of, or maybe he was just good at concealing his reactions and was now complaining about it to his friends, about how he was stuck with this girl now after one date.

Mia shuddered in discomfort as the uncomfortable thoughts took shape and nestled in the far ends of her mind, clamping them into her veins as they sprouted and refused to leave. There wasn’t really an escape.

Hazel desperately tried to pull Mia from her train of thoughts, but she had boarded and had fastened the seat belt and was now steaming towards an unknown destination. She nodded and tried to follow along with what Hazel was saying, but it wasn’t really any use.

It wasn’t any use until a few hours later, when someone rang the doorbell.

Mia was hunched over her desk with papers scattered around. Her head already hurt from focussing on the letters so much while she tried to get through a particularly hard and boring lesson from earlier this week. She had zoned out a bit during it – her thoughts drifting to Harry obviously – but now had to catch up on it.

Her hair was in its signature braid as she wore cosy sweatpants with bunnies on them in pastel colours, matching her fluffy bunny slippers.

“Mia!” Hazel’s voice called from the hallway. Mia pulled the pink sparkly pen from between her lips, holding it safe there as she rummaged her notes for a particular quote she had trouble remembering. The pen dropped on the desk and Mia brushed the fly aways out of her vision before she padded over to the door of her bedroom to open it up.

Hazel’s grin was wide as ever and Harry had soft pink cheeks, matching the bouquet of flowers in his hand that was filled with a bunch of wildflowers in different shades of pink.

Mia stood frozen in the doorway, staring at Harry who was in her apartment in his winter wear. She recognized the signature beanie on top of his head to tame the curls.

“H-Hi.” Harry stupidly mumbled.

At this point, he really felt like he should’ve stayed home instead of listening to his idiot friends.

When Harry came home last night with the widest smile on his face, most of them were just returning from another night at the bar. He had ignored their texts all night – begging him to bring Mia to the bar with him and end their date there. He refused. Instead, he was melted into her on the couch with their tongues softly rubbing against one another.

It was Harry’s personal dream, having Mia curled up on his lap with her little breaths hitting his cheeks and her warm hands in his hair. He could’ve stayed like that forever, but inviting himself to stay the night just felt a little too blunt.

It was clear Mia wasn’t ready for anything sexual right about now. She needed time to get to know Harry, and that meant taking slow steps. He didn’t mind, just tried to be careful not to push her boundaries.

Maybe showing up the very next day with his coat dripping wet and a bouquet of flowers in his hands, was pushing her boundaries. He wasn’t sure. His friends had pushed him to do so, had begged him to make her his girlfriend. He had spent hours gushing about Mia after his date, for once not able to even keep his mouth shut even if they usually referred to him as the quiet one.

Liam, Louis, Niall and Zayn all sat with their eyes wide and their mouths open, silent on the couch with half empty beers on their laps as Harry told them all about his dinner with Mia, them both explaining their feelings and then walking her to the apartment where they shared a few little kisses.

He didn’t tell them he got a boner in his pants after about six seconds and it didn’t go away all night. Only on his walk back through the cold campus, his body relaxed a little even though he also missed her. He had sent her another text once he reached home and she replied, still awake to make sure he got home safely.

She was a true sweetheart, he had no other words for her.

And so his friends noticed his giddiness, his deep dimples, his fiddling fingers as he spoke about her with an excitement they had never seen in him before. And they urged him not to wait another second and make her his girlfriend. Immediately.

So Harry was a man on a mission, texting Mia to let her know he was shortly dropping by to see her. He now realised she probably never read that message. The look of shock on her face contrasted to the giddiness and smirk on Hazel’s.

Harry flicked her eyes to Mia’s friend, and she seemingly got the hint, clearing her throat, “I’ll be in my room.” Hazel announced before slowly slipping backwards and disappearing through another door. Harry had no doubt she was on the other side of it with her ear pressed to the wood.

“Harry…” Mia exhaled, biting her lip as she blushed and shifted on her feet, suddenly very aware that she wore the most horrendous outfit and wasn’t really prepared to see anyone, “Hi.” She settled on saying.

“I texted.” He blurted out, his heart hammering violently before he swallowed, “that I was coming over. B-But you were probably studying.”

Mia flicked her braid over her shoulder to rest on her back, “I was.” She felt a little flustered at his sudden appearance, but the shyness in his eyes softened her up like nothing else, “Aren’t you cold?” She softly asked.

Harry glanced down to his wet coat, “Uh, yeah, a little. It’s nice and warm here.”

“Come in.” Mia ushered him, padding over in her bunny slippers to close the door behind him and keep the warmth inside. Harry took steps inside, his shoes squeaking on the hardwood floors of Mia and Hazel’s apartment. He flushed a little pink as he licked his lips, nerves taking over.

Although he and Mia had been honest with one another last night – about both feeling butterflies and liking one another – it was still all new and fresh and they still hardly knew one another. He wasn’t sure how she dealt with surprises or if she was maybe focussed on her studying and didn’t appreciate the interruption.

“These are for you.” Harry murmured, shyly holding out the bouquet. He had picked out a soft pink, somehow not thinking twice when the man at the flower shop showed him the array of colours he could pick from. Mia blushed the same shade of pink and Harry instantly remembered why he was so drawn to that specific shade as he smiled softly.

Mia bit her lip while very gently taking the bouquet from his hands, “You got me flowers? Harry… Thank you. These are so beautiful.”

His heart nearly sighed in relief when he watched how she carefully let her eyes trail over the delicate flowers. He scratched the back of his neck now that he had his hands free, “You – you mentioned how you’d never gotten flowers before.”

Mia lifted her eyes in surprise, smiling softly, “I did.” She murmured, almost in disbelief that he remembered that part of their many conversations last night. Mia suddenly felt breathless, taking a quick step towards Harry before she noticed how wide his eyes got at the sudden close contact.

Her hand tightly held around the stem of the pink flowers, she stood up on her toes in an attempt to reach him, but could barely fit her lips against the hinge of his jaw. She was redder than the flowers upon plopping back down on the full soles of her feet and Harry exhaled a trembling breath, “Uh – I’m glad you like them.”

Mia licked her dry lips. All the confidence she had felt and had mustered up to kiss Harry – even if it was just on the jaw – had left her body like she had used it all up. The dark thoughts from the earlier morning kept ringing in her head but they were overpowered with admiration for Harry, who braved the rain to walk all the way to her apartment with flowers, no less.

He listened to her. And her heart fluttered. Warmth flooded her and she offered him a genuine smile, one Harry returned immediately. His hand found her waist as he gently squeezed, and they felt like them again. Like no time had passed and Harry hadn’t left to go to his own home tonight.

Mia tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, “I’ll go put these in water. Do you want something to drink?”

Harry shrugged off his coat and shucked off his shoes, feeling right at ease now that they had passed through the awkward few first minutes of his surprise and Mia seemingly sort of dropped the invisible walls she had built up in the hours of them being separated. Harry took his beanie off too, running his fingers through his hair, “No, thanks. Smells great here, though.”

“Oh,” Mia’s voice came from the kitchen where Harry found her rummaging the cabinets for a vase, “I made soup a few days ago and we had some for lunch.”

His ears perked up, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Mia smiled, “you want some?”

Harry nibbled his lip, “I don’t want to overstep.” And Mia chuckled softly, “You’re not, I’m offering.”

He smiled and nodded, before noticing her struggle. Mia balanced on her tippy toes while her fingers desperately clawed for a vase on the top shelf. Harry snickered and approached her, “And I’m offering to take this for you. Step aside, sweetheart.”

Mia sighed in defeat and watched in envy as Harry easily reached for it – not even having to stretch all the way. It did give her a glimpse of his jumper riding up a bit and showing off a bit more ink on his tummy that she could only spot for a split second before he turned around with the vase, “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

Handing her the vase, Harry didn’t immediately let go. Their hands clutched together around the vase and Harry made the split decision to lean down and press a short kiss to Mia’s lips, suspecting it’s what she tried earlier but her height was no match for his.

Mia blushed and smiled against his lips and Harry returned the easy grin before letting go of the vase. They were easy around one another now. And it felt normal and absolutely lovely. Something Harry could get used to.

He watched as Mia arranged the flowers in the vase, doting over how beautiful they were and how grateful she was as Harry brought spoonfuls of delicious homemade soup to his mouth. Mia loosened up after her initial shock of seeing Harry here.

Her headache miraculously disappeared as she sat at the table next to him and he rubbed gentle circles into her lower back as she explained something about a group assignment to him. Harry listened to Mia speaking with perked ears. She could talk about whatever, he was addicted to her voice and listening to her as she explained things passionately.

Hearing her talk about a group assignment was actually a little amusing. He could sense the frustration in her tone as Mia went on about one person in the group project who didn’t really participate.

And he just wanted to kiss her, so he did. Mia didn’t mind that Harry cut her off in the middle of her sentence in favour of pressing his mouth to hers. He tasted like her soup and the entirety of the moment felt incredibly intimate to her.

Her chair scraped over the floor a little as Harry’s hands easily found her thighs and hoisted her back onto his lap to straddle him as if she was weightless. Mia’s legs dangled on each side of Harry’s thighs, hovering just above the ground as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

He hummed into her mouth, working her up to it softly for a bit before slipping his tongue back into her warm mouth. Mia keened into him, arching her back without really realising she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Through the layers of clothes, Harry could feel her nipples against his chest and he only pulled her closer. His arms were tight around her form as they melted together, an easy and gentle kiss shared between them with a lot less nerves than a few hours prior.

“These pants are very cute, Mia.” Harry teased in a breath against her lips. Mia giggled and buried her face into his neck, a gesture that made Harry fly on a cloud as pink as the flowers he got her. He was floating with her, always.

“I wasn’t expecting company.” She whispered back, a gentle stroke of her fingers through his neck made Harry shudder. He pouted at her softly and Mia’s gaze dropped to his moist lip as Harry exhaled a breath, “’M sorry, I texted you… Wanted to see you.” He leaned in to speak against her lips, feeling like he didn’t want to be any further from her than about half an inch.

Mia nudged her nose against his affectionately, “No, I know. It’s so sweet. You showing up here, the flowers…” She sighed out, “You’re so sweet.”

“Only for you.” He admitted softly and they kissed again. The grip they had on one another was nearly painful and Harry kissed her cheek once, “Did I interrupt your studying?”

“Not really.” Mia shook her head, “I was just revising.”

“Need my help?” Harry offered, sliding his palms up her thighs. Mia wanted to moan.

She arched into him more, “Maybe. Do you – uh… do you want to go to my room for a bit? Or do you need to be anywhere?”

Harry’s heart did a backflip as he tightened his fingers into Mia’s thighs. He had wished for her to invite him over last night, just so they could cuddle and kiss and spend a night together – something so vulnerable he had hardly ever done before with someone. He couldn’t imagine waking up to someone that wasn’t Mia. Whenever he had in the past, he had felt annoyed.

Annoyed by how the other girl took up too much of his bed or numbed his arm or had all her hair in his face. Right now he’d let Mia do all three things to him and he’d thank her on his knees.

He was a man addicted.

“I’d love to.” He murmured, softly kissing her once. Mia smiled and gently kneaded his shoulder, “Okay.”

She was about to get up but Harry grabbed her hip and kept her down. Mia faced him with a small wondering frown and Harry drew a breath, “Before we go, I-I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?” Mia pulled back with her brows softly raised “Sure, go ahead.”

Harry cleared his throat softly, and Mia’s mind spun again with all different scenarios of what his words might be. The first one as bad as the next and each ending with her heartbroken and crying. What he actually said though, made her gasp softly in surprise.

“I was wondering i-if I could be your boyfriend.” He murmured.

“Oh, Harry.” Mia smiled, her heart beating out of her chest to be closer to his. She bashfully cupped his cheeks and surprised him with a firm yet soft kiss to his lips, one that had her blushing herself at how blunt she suddenly was. Her cheeks were lifted high in a sweet smile that made Harry sigh out dreamily.

“Of course. I’d love that.” She murmured. Harry smiled back, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Mia giggled, “To be honest, in my mind, you already were.”

Harry chuckled, “Really? When did I pass that test?”

Mia puckered her lips in thought, “Probably when you asked me out.”

“So I’ve been your boyfriend for all of two days?”

She threw her head back with a giggle, Harry gently squeezing her ribs as they expanded with her laughter. Mia and him stayed entwined for a few more minutes before deciding to go to her room. She carefully placed Harry’s used soup bowl into the dishwasher and even grabbed a tablecloth to clean off where the bowl had been on the table.

He admired her care for the space she shared with Hazel and it was clear that Mia and her both tried to make the other just as comfortable in the apartment while both still learning how to live together.

And then he followed Mia – his girlfriend – into her bedroom. The space felt warm and was lit up by her desk light shining down on the chaos of notes and textbooks on her cluttered desk.

Mia was a bit of a neat freak and she liked control. Harry could tell that much. So seeing her desk in that state was a little heartbreaking because it only went to show that she was struggling with that part of her life.

He stood behind her as she tried desperately to clean up a little. His hands on her shoulders, his lips on her temple like he had done it all her life and they were a married couple, “’S okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to clean up for me.”

Mia’s shoulders dropped a little in relief. It was the perfectionism she tried to uphold, but a glance over her shoulder didn’t show disappointment or disgust in Harry’s eyes at a part of her life that she was attempting to navigate.

She exhaled a small yawn and he affectionately turned her around and tucked some hair behind her ears, “Are you tired?”

Even though Mia was a girl untouched, Harry’s gentle fingers didn’t make her flinch or didn’t cause her anxiety to spike. She felt safe and comfortable around him, and part of that was definitely because she had drilled into her brain that he wasn’t expecting anything from her.

He hadn’t run for the hills last night when she said she didn’t want to sleep with him. Yet. If anything, he did the opposite. He stayed for hours, satisfied with just kissing and then showed up today without her having to ask, bringing her flowers.

He was an angel, Mia decided. And it felt too good to be true, he was the kind of man she read about or saw in movies. Her own personal McDreamy, her own version of him. And McSteamy too. All in one.

Mia nodded a little at Harry’s question, “Yeah, a bit. And it’s so boring.”

He offered her a lopsided smile, “I can imagine. D’you want to lie down for a minute and talk?”

Mia bit her lip, thinking of getting in the bed. With Harry. In one bed. She drew a sharp breath and forced a nod, “Okay.” She squeaked out, trying to hide her nerves. Mia padded over to her side of the bed, undoing the covers and sliding underneath them as she abandoned her bunny slippers on the floors.

Harry stood at the other end of the bed with an unsure look in his eyes, “Do you want me to get under the covers too?" He asked softly.

Mia pushed herself up on her elbow and opened up the blanket for him, “Yeah,” She braved through her nerves, “you’ll be a lot warmer.”

Harry curled his lips inside his mouth and nodded, accepting her offer of sliding into her bed. The mattress dipped with the extra weight and Harry was in the spot that Mia had sort of deemed to be Hazel’s spot.

“This is a comfy bed.” Harry sighed while humming, “I could fall asleep right here.”

Mia chuckled and bundled the covers a little tighter around her, “It is a comfy bed.”

“And a two-person, whew.” Harry exaggerated, “Haven’t had a bed as decent as this in years.” He referred to his single bed in the dorm room he rented out with his friends.

“I usually stick to my side though. I’m quite an easy sleeper and I never really mess up the covers during the night.” Mia spoke and Harry scooted a little closer to her, “Really?”

“Mhm.” She confirmed, “I just fall asleep in one position and stay like that, often I wake up in that same position.”

Harry’s brows raised, “Wow. Guess I’ll be the one disrupting your sleep from now on.” His comment was a little cheeky, and Harry worried for a second that he had overstepped by assuming they’d sleep together in the same bed now that they were boyfriend and girlfriend, but Mia just giggled, “I suppose. But you’ll be the one making the bed then every morning, cleaning up your mess.”

Harry let out a laugh, “Of course, love.”

She stared at him, curls floppy on the white pillowcase that had been untouched for the months she had lived here. Harry fit right in, like he had been in this room a billion times before and the apartment just fell in love with him the way Mia did.

She exhaled a trembling breath and gathered her courage, “Can I kiss you?”

Harry smirked a little and scooted closer until his hand found the dip of her waist underneath the warm covers, “Sweetheart, I’m your boyfriend now. Y’don’t have to ask.”

Mia smiled a little, “Really? I can just kiss you? Whenever?”

“Sure.” Harry smiled back before quickly pressing his lips to hers, “See? I’m doing it too.”

Mia’s heart beat faster as her legs grew a little restless, “Mhm. Y-You can do it again. If… if you want.” She stuttered and Harry snickered under his breath before taking her in a deep, long kiss.

Mia lost all track of her surroundings, Harry’s arms encaging her fully as they were flush together on the bed. Their mouths locked and moved together easily, tongues finding one another blindly as they kissed slow and passionate.

Harry shifted, pushing his leg up to part her legs and nudge into her hip so Mia rolled on her back a little more and he rolled with her. His body partly hovering over hers, Mia had more free range to play with his hair.

The rough material of Harry’s jeans rubbed into the soft material of her bunny sweatpants, and their legs tangled together as they rolled around. Mia let him guide her, eyes closed while she hoped Harry didn’t accidentally roll them off of the bed or bump her head into anything.

As Harry tried to crawl up a little higher, his leg bent with his thigh pressing right between Mia’s. She opened her mouth wider in a gasp and fisted his hair tight as she whimpered out a moan – a sound that immediately made her turn bright red as she avoided his eyes in embarrassment. Harry was breathless from the kiss and pecked at her jaw twice, “Sorry.” He mumbled, “Sorry, didn’t mean to do that.”

He was very considerate of Mia being inexperienced and her wish to wait, but that sound that just fell from her lips went straight to his cock. He was already half hard from kissing her and rolling around her crisp white sheets with her in his arms, and that was just the cherry on top.

He could only wonder what she’d sound like if he truly put in the work, if he truly pleasured her, if he knew her body like the back of his hand to get her to orgasm over and over and over again until she had to beg him to stop.

“Or did y’like it?” He carefully whispered into her skin. He worried that she’d be offended or that she’d feel unsafe at his question, but Mia swallowed – throat bobbing against Harry’s mouth as he kissed down the column of her throat – and tightened her thighs around his a little.

Harry smirked to himself and hummed softly, “Y’did?”

“Y-Yes.” Mia managed to croak out. She wished she could just communicate without words, because one, she had trouble remembering any as Harry touched and kissed her like this, and two, she felt too awkward to have a conversation with him.

She moaned into his ear when he accidentally pushed his leg between her thighs. It was almost embarrassing how pleasurable that had felt for Mia, but Harry being Harry of course didn’t make anything weird. His hand roamed her back and waist until he gently put his palm down where the fabric had ridden up and exposed Mia’s back a little.

He was still half on top of her, his fingers now tickling her bare skin as he moved the other hand to her thigh, gently positioning it in a way he saw better fit for what he was about to do. And what he did was push his thigh into her again. Mia arched slightly, fingers digging into his arms as Harry intently watched her face to find a good rhythm and a good amount of pressure.

It was a lot for her, and Mia stared up at Harry in wonder as he rocked her body softly with the pressure of his thigh pushing into her core. She gasped softly with each grind and involuntarily parted her legs wider.

There were layers of clothing between them – three to be exact – yet this already felt incredible. Mia struggled for air as Harry kept up the pace he had set, staring wildly into her eyes to see if she was okay with this.

“Fuck.” He grunted when she bucked her hips back into his leg, and Harry dropped his face in the crook of her neck. He groaned into her skin and kissed wherever he could reach until Mia was the one initiating the kiss. It was deep and once Harry took over, it took a bit of a rough turn. Spit slicked lips moved together at the same pace as Harry’s leg pleasuring her.

Mia bent her legs to give him more room and Harry eventually groaned again and pushed her one leg down before slotting both of his between hers. Mia was spread wide, her eyes open in shock as Harry laid between her legs and had his arms around her.

“You okay?” He breathed as he eyed her reaction. He had felt her stiffening, and knew he had taken it too far. Mia forced him a small smile and nodded, “Yeah. C-Can we just cuddle a little bit?”

He dipped his head to press a kiss to her chin, “Of course, m’love. Let’s get you comfortable, yeah?” Harry spoke before rolling off of her. Mia felt like a baby to reject him, especially a guy so gorgeous who tried anything with her – but her body had sort of shut down and she hadn’t thought about this properly enough to really do anything.

She had to talk to Hazel about it, Mia decided. Hazel could give her decent sex education without making it weird, and she respected Mia enough to keep it serious and informative rather than tease her for it.

So Mia just followed Harry’s form as he went to lay on his back and then opened up his arm. She happily took the spot, snuggling into his side. She softly bent her leg to rest it over his one thigh, biting her lip when she could feel her knee brushing his hard-on in his pants.

Harry’s arm was around her shoulder and he gently stroked her over her jumper before pulling her a little closer, “Are you comfy?” He checked in a whisper and Mia tilted her head to look up to him a bit, “I am. ‘M sorry about before.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head, pressing a kiss to the top of Mia’s head, “Don’t apologize. Got carried away, I should be the one saying sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.” Mia murmured, “I just – uh… I need a little time.”

“I know. It’s fine, Mia. I promise. ‘M your boyfriend, aren’t I? I don’t care about that, I just care about being with you and keeping you happy.”

She bit her lip, appreciating his sentiment but also a little anxious that this could turn into some sort of dealbreaker. Mia tilted her head again to kiss his jaw, “Thank you.” She murmured, “I want you to be happy too.”

“I am.” Harry sighed, holding her a little tighter, “So happy.”

And Mia believed him, or at least she tried to. The two of them were left into a comfortable silence until Harry felt Mia completely sinking into him. One glance down showed her closed eyes, lashes resting on the tops of her cheekbones as she was in a little shallow sleep.

He didn’t find it too creepy that he stared at her for the entire duration of her nap. He couldn’t recall if it was ten minutes or an hour, he just couldn’t take his eyes off of the girl he could now call his girlfriend. It had been a quick few weeks, but he just couldn’t keep anything in when it came to Mia.

He of course wondered if he was pushing her too hard, taking too many steps, rushing through things. He made her his girlfriend after one date and she agreed, but it was quick. There was so much they didn’t know about one another, but the feelings were there. At least, his were.

He hoped her rejections really only had to do with the fact that she was a little nervous and wanted to take her time for anything sexual, and not that they stemmed from a place of her doubting how she felt about him, or maybe just not wanting those things with him.

#writers on tumblr #writing #fanfiction #one direction #writerscommunity #alisonfelix #harry styles #harry styles au #wattpad #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smutty fanfic #hs #hs au #smut writing

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the-californicationist · 6 months

Text

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 03)

AO3 Link

SEPTEMBER

“I’m not askin’ you to hang the moon, Johnny! I’m askin’ you to drive to Glencoe. I told you, I dinnae ken who made the appointment, but it cannae be changed. Please, just do this for me. I’m your sister.”

“Don’t pull that shite. I dinnae mind makin’ the wee drive to Glencoe, but I dinnae ken fuck all about cakes! I just got back from fuckin’ Faridah, didn’t I? What do I ken about fuckin’ buttercream? Tell your maid of honor to go. She’d pick a fine cake!”

“She is going! Haven’t you been listening, you eejit? You’re takin’ her with you. She’ll help you…” a pause, and then, “I know, I know. I’m sure you were gonna meet back up with Bekah, or Cherise, or Anjali, or -”

“Hey! Tha’s no’ fair. Take it back right now, or I’ll tan your hide.”

“Come on and try, boyo! All those wee military exercises and I’ll still have you whingin’ for mum like you did that one Christmas when -”

You knocked on the door, hoping to prevent fraternal bloodshed, and the voices stopped. A long pause stretched out into infinity.

You had been standing on the porch of the MacTavish house for quite a long time. At first, seeing his Jeep in the driveway had kept you trapped in the cab, much to the cabbie’s chagrin. Over the past three months, you’d had plenty of thoughts about Johnny MacTavish and his sister. He had taken you home from the bar and put you to bed, but not in the way you might have thought, given his…reputation. The next morning, he was gone again. Pidge said they’d given him only two days away, and then he was back to Urzikstan to do whatever sandy, nasty job he had to do there.

You’d been planning on leaving as well, needing to return to the endless slog of your studies, so you booked a train home. Back at your flat, you’d started overthinking and obsessing.

How embarrassing was it that you’d gotten so drunk? He must think you’re such a loser! A girl who can’t even hold her alcohol. They all must think that about you. And now you have to do a whole wedding with them! You were never drinking again. Well, that resolution lasted about half a day, because when you started rehashing the feeling of being carried in his arms and the smell of whisky as it hung on his breath as he tucked you into his bed, you needed a fucking drink.

So, wine in hand, you began to unpack.

You weren’t completely sure if it had been a drunken accident or not, but you found Johnny’s shirt in your bag, and you immediately felt a pang of regret. Perhaps you were a thief after all. You didn’t remember putting it in there. What else had you done that you didn’t remember?

Damnit .

You thought about it for a moment, but then you caved and you put on the shirt. You rationalized it, claiming you’d wash it. No big deal.

But then, three months went by and you had found a small hole in the sleeve from overwearing it.

“Fuck!” You lamented, fingering the threads as if it couldn’t be true.

You were not a seamstress by any stretch of the imagination, but you threw a stitch in it and prayed he wouldn’t notice.

Now, it was September, and he was back to attend the official MacTavish-Hamilton engagement party. You had planned to stay the whole week with Pidge, canceling your meetings and bringing your laptop with you. You had a chapter due next Wednesday, and it was crunch time. But now, apparently, you were going to Glencoe.

With him.

Alone.

You knocked again, a little louder. The door creaked open and only Pidge greeted you over the threshold.

“Hey, babes! Come in! We’re in the kitchen. Got loads to share. So much to do… Oy, your bags are so heavy! What did you bring in here, hen? Bricks?”

“Close,” you half-smiled, “Books.”

“Och, Jesus,” she struggled a bit and then dropped them in front of Johnny’s door unceremoniously.

“Thanks, Pidge.”

She plodded into the kitchen, and you followed behind. As you rounded the corner, you saw him busying himself with the dishes, putting away cups and plates. The kettle was on, and in a few minutes, there’d be tea. He stopped as soon as he saw you, drying his hands on the striped tea towel and smiling at you. The grin didn’t quite meet his eyes, and his obvious disappointment with needing to babysit you for this Glencoe outing put a stake right through your heart.

“So,” Pidge broke the news to you in front of her brother, “I know you were going to come with me to the dress fitting, but I double booked, and now the cake shop wants to do a wee tasting. I will owe you my literal first born if you go in my place, babes.”

You tried to act surprised,

“But, wasn’t I supposed to do a fitting as well?”

“Yeah, I told them the situation, and they booked you tomorrow bright and early. Please? Don’t let my fuckin’ brother pick out my wedding cake. It’d be chocolate on chocolate and nothin’ else.”

“What’s wrong with chocolate?” Johnny was indignant.

Pidge gave him a warning look and then turned her attention back to you,

“Will you pretend to be me for a day?”

The look in her eyes told you that an option for denial wasn’t even on the table, but the look in his as he gazed down at his white-knuckled grip on the counter, said there wasn’t room for anything but.

You didn’t care what he thought (liar), and you were there for Pidge, not him.

“You know I will. They think I’m you?”

“Yes, and you need to sign for it as well. Bring back the receipt, if you would. God, you’re the absolute best.”

She kissed you on the cheek and grabbed her bag from the counter, turning to you once more before she walked out of the door,

“And don’t let this dafty give you any shite. If he’s not on his best behavior, I’ll injure him, so help me God.”

As she walked out of the house, Johnny rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys,

“C’mon, lass. It’s a trek, so we need to get petrol before we head out.”

“Sorry that you have to go with me,” you apologized, acknowledging his disdain.

He smiled and shook his head, walking you out to his jeep. The top was off, along with the doors. You quickly braided your hair back, realizing it was about to be a wind-swept drive.

“Not your fault, hen. My wee sister’s just plottin’ against me, that’s all. You ever been to the Three Sisters?”

“No,” you told him, “Not much of a hiker.”

You knew about the famed mountains, and you had heard of their stunning beauty, but you hadn’t had the opportunity to go north to see them for yourself. Without a personal car, it was hard to get out of the city much less to the mountains of Glen Coe.

You climbed up into the Jeep, using the handle to hoist yourself inside. He jumped up into the driver’s seat with ease, pulling a pair of sunglasses down from the visor and shoving them onto his face. Johnny reached over you and into the glove compartment, digging around for a bit before handing you a matching pair. They were extremely sporty, and you were certain you looked ridiculous in them, but he made them look so stylish.

“Here ya are, lass. Gonna be a long drive. We’ll go the scenic route. Cannae believe you’ve never seen the mountains. Tha’s a bloody crime.”

As you drove, he pointed out landmarks, good coffee shops to visit, and sang loudly to the radio (which was muffled by the roaring wind). He made you feel so at ease, and now that Pidge wasn’t lurking around every corner, you let yourself explore him with your eyes indulgently. You laughed at his jokes when they were funny, and smiled freely. Johnny was constantly talking to you when he wasn’t signing, asking about your work, about America, and about the places you’ve been while you were in his country.

“Oh! I know you know this one! The Cranberries? C’mon, lass, don’t break my heart,” he turned up the song as far as it would go and watched you to see if you’d sing along.

“Who doesn’t know this song?” You smiled, singing right along with him.

“…You know I'm such a fool for you. You got me wrapped around your finger…”

He smiled at you, pleased that you were playing along, practically screaming the lines.

By the time you’d made it through the gorgeous landscape to the base of the Three Sisters mountains, you were sore from laughing, and hoarse from singing, and you’d fallen head over heels for the handsome soldier again and again and again.

Eventually, you made it to the town of Glencoe, and you pulled up your map on your phone, giving him directions to the bakery. He parked in the street. It was misting a little, and he helped you out of the Jeep to bring you under the awning of a small Nero cafe. You zoomed in on the map to get a better view, and he leaned over your shoulder to see it.

He beamed,

“Aye, just ‘round the wee corner. And it’s right by the pub! Stop in for a pint after, what do you say, lass?”

“Only if we get out of there without arousing any suspicion. We have to convince them that we’re getting married.”

“Don’t worry about that. If you were my wee hen, I couldn’t keep my filthy paws off of ya. Havin’ a hard time now as it is,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, keeping up with his jokester attitude.

“Easy does it, Hammie. I’m saving myself for the wedding night, you know?” You joked right along with him, playing coy.

“Dinnae worry your wee heid, lassie. I’ll take you to confession tomorrow, and all the sins of tonight will be washed away,” Johnny grabbed you by the hand and led you back into the street.

He paused for a moment, looking down at you as your palms touched, fitting together like a glove, almost as if he had forgotten something. He shook the thought away and walked with you to the store in companionable silence.

When you arrived, he held the door open and let you step up into the warm, quiet bakery. All of the wind and the noise of the street disappeared in the little shop, and the smell of sugar overwhelmed your senses. You heard Johnny sigh, enjoying the smell himself.

“Hello! Welcome to Stiff Peaks,” a cheery little grandmother of a woman greeted you from behind the counter.

Her earrings were tiny whisks, and she had a bit of flour on her cheek. She came out from behind the register and shook your hands,

“You must be the Hamiltons, or I should say the future Hamiltons.”

“Yes ma’am,” you smiled, downplaying your American accent, “We’ve come to try your wedding cake offerings.”

“Of course, right this way.”

She led you both down a tight corridor to the back room where a single two-person table waited for you. A black camera hung obviously in the corner. You eyed it when she wasn’t looking, and Johnny met your gaze, giving you a wink.

“Here you are, Pigeon, have a seat,” he held out your chair for you to sit down, adding a level of romantic gentlemanly affection that you were not expecting, kissing your neck from behind as you sat.

The feeling of his lips sent a shock through your system. They were so soft and plush, and when he pulled away, you could feel the cold air rush across the wet spot he left behind. The sting of it tortured you, and you felt your cheeks flush. He saw them, and instead of ribbing you, he averted his eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“Och, you lovebirds,” the baker beamed, “Warms my heart, it does. I’ll be back in a spot.”

She was gone from the room, and you were about to make a comment to him, and then you remembered the camera. He was looking at it, too, and then he focused back on you. He spoke to you in a voice that was low and deep, a slow rumble that covered you like a fog, blocking out everything around you,

“Feeling alright, Pidge?”

“Just fine, mo chridhe,” you used Hamish’s favorite nickname for Brigette, and smiled sweetly at Johnny, testing out your accent.

He looked like he’d seen a ghost, but he recovered quickly, whispering, trying not to be heard by the camera,

“Do you know what that means?”

“Babe? I call you that all the time, babe.” You raised your eyebrows as the baker came back in, warning him.

He shook his head slowly, as if fighting making a comment, drinking down most of the water she had brought to the table. She also set down the first course of cake bites, one plate for each of you.

“Okay, dearies, here is the first selection. We have the classic vanilla, Italian creme, lemon custard, and a black forest. These are less adventurous, and suitable for just about any wedding, no matter how formal. Gave you a pair of wee score cards there to keep up with your winners. I’ll leave you to it!”

You looked down at the scorecard and back up at the cakes. Johnny grabbed his and immediately crossed out the black forest and the lemon custard.

“Hey!” You protested, “You haven’t even tried those. And, besides, Pid- uh, I love lemon!”

“Aye,” he cut his eyes at you, “You do love lemon, Pigeon. But, you’re the only one in the family who does. It’s out.”

“Well, I think you, Hamish, would balk at vanilla and Italian creme. Too pedestrian for a man of your exotic tastes, wouldn’t you say, mo chridhe?”

“Sure, mo mhèirleach, I’m an adventurous sort of man,” his tone turned darkly suggestive, “You ken that well enough, don’tcha?”

You felt his hand on your leg as he skated it up your thigh, giving it a hard squeeze, making you gasp. Just before you could chastise him, he cut you off, whispering in your ear,

“Careful, bonnie. Tha’s a sound I’ll like to hear again.”

You whispered back, too low even for him to hear - almost,

“Johnny…”

He gave you a look that contained that same nameless emotion as when he first grabbed your hand outside in the street. You lingered there for longer than you should have, and you were interrupted by the baker.

“Annnnd…” She gave you both time to return to your seats politely, pretending like you hadn’t just been caught breathing each other’s air, “Here is the second round. How did we like the first set, lovebirds?”

You shrugged,

“They’re beautiful, but we’re looking for something a little more…”

“Sexy,” Johnny said in a matter-of-fact voice.

You backhanded his chest, hard.

“Hamish!”

The baker laughed,

“No, no! I get it! I agree. I think you’ll like these much more. Can I get you some more water, dearie?” She asked him.

“Aye, tapadh leibh.” Thank you .

“Se do bheatha. An ann à Gleann Comhann a tha thu?” You’re welcome. Are you from Glencoe?

He shook his head, the only part of the conversation you could understand,

“Chan e, dìreach an seo a’ fheuchainn ri cèic a bruadar fhaighinn dha mo bhean bhrèagha.” No, just here trying to get my beautiful bride the cake of her dreams.

“Is urrainn dhomh innse dhut gu bheil thu dealasach.” I can tell you’re dedicated.

He laughed,

“Aye. Barrachd na thuig mi, tha mi a’ smaoineachadh.” More than I realized, I think.

Then, the baker was gone. You whispered to him,

“What did you say to her?”

“Just told her I’m allergic to almonds.”

You searched his face to see if he was lying. You couldn’t tell.

“Are you?”

“No,” he smiled, looking down at his cue card.

In the end, you went with the hummingbird cake and coconut creme filling, with a cinnamon cream cheese frosting. It was perfect for Pidge’s love of citrus, and adventurous enough for Hamish’s tastes. The baker left you with a bag of goodies; cookies, slices of the cake you selected, some macarons, and a copy of the contract.

“Thank you so much for having us. We can’t wait for the big day,” you shook her hand again and she smiled at you.

“Of course, dearie. Looking forward to it. You two enjoy each other. The days go by so fast,” she winked.

Johnny opened the door for you and let you out into the street again.

“So, Mr. Hamilton,” you said, keeping up the charade a little longer, “About that pint…”

“Mmm,” Johnny grinned rakishly, “I have a better idea, lass.”

He took you back past the cafe and ducked into a Spar. He said he needed to pick up a bottle of scotch for one of his mates, an Oban 14-year, and while he was there, he grabbed two cold pint bottles of Caledonia cider from the refrigerated section. He loaded up the Jeep again, and you waited patiently in the passenger seat, thinking you were heading home.

“You ready for your surprise, bonnie?”

“Surprise?”

He laughed, shoving his sunglasses back on and smiling as he turned off of the main road and onto a smaller lane. As you drove, the greenery became more verdant than ever. It was early September, so even though some of the leaves began to change colors, most of them retained their deep emerald hues. The branches and brush rushed by you, and from the open door of the Jeep, if you weren’t so afraid to lose a limb, you could have reached out and touched the leaves. Then, just as you rounded a corner, the hillside gave way to a stunning view.

A valley stretched out before you, showcasing the high, sloping peaks of the Three Sisters. You’d seen them from the other highway, but this road made it seem like you had entered into another realm. Just when you thought you’d have to pass them by, Johnny pulled off the road into a small car park and shut down the engine.

You got out, phone in hand, ready to take some photos. It was too beautiful not to, and if you were honest with yourself, you wanted to remember this day.

“Well, go on then, get my good side,” you spotted Johnny over your shoulder on the screen.

He put his hand around your body and squeezed you in, making sure you were both framed in the screen. You took the selfie, and then he made a noise of discontent,

“Ahh, that won’t do. Another!”

When you took this one, right as you reached for the button, he planted a kiss on your cheek. He pulled away and grabbed your phone out of your hands to look at it,

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

You watched as he texted it to himself, leaving his number in your phone as “Mo Chridhe”.

“Is that how you spell it? I never would have guessed that,” you tried to keep your voice level, pretending like the cheek kiss hadn’t phased you.

“Yeah, we just keep all the other letters in there to confuse you foreigners,” he winked, “C’mon, bit of a walk.”

He pulled the bag of drinks from the back of the Jeep, shoved a towel in the sack, nicked the macarons from your goodie bag, and left everything else in the car. You followed him up the hill quite a ways, but it wasn’t an impossible climb. By the time you reached the top, however, you were out of breath. He kept going up, motioning for him to follow you, and you found yourself next to a shallow pool, no larger than a hottub, out of view of the highway. It was quiet, and none of the tourists had followed you up even half as high. You were very much alone together.

He pulled off his shirt and glasses, tossing them on one of the towels, and went to shuck off his pants and boots. You raised your eyebrows,

“What are you doing?”

He looked up at you, knowing he was shocking you a bit,

“Braw days like this don’t come often. You heard the baker, yeah? The days go by fast. Live a little, mo mhèirleach.”

There was that nickname again. You vowed that you would look it up online later, if only you would be able to spell it.

“Johnny, we can’t just swim here, surely. Someone will come and -”

“And what? Tell us to get out?”

He dunked his head under the clear pool and came back up for air, panting from the chill of the fresh water.

“I don’t have a swimsuit…” You put the bag of treats down and sat on the edge of the pool.

“Aren’tcha wearing any knickers, mhèirleach? Gods, say no, hen. Say no…” He swam up next to you to tease you some more.

“I am!” You told him, and he gave you a look, rolling his eyes.

“Well, go on, bonnie. I’ll even turn around, since you’re savin’ yourself for our wedding bed and all tha’.”

You laughed in disbelief, unsure of everything and yet going along with his plan anyway. You waited for him to avert his eyes before pulling off your pants and as you went to take off your top, you thought you saw him peek under his lashes, but he averted his gaze again so quickly, you couldn’t be sure.

You dipped a foot into the pool. It was cool but not cold. You could stand it, but you wanted to complain a little anyway.

“Jesus, it’s cold in here. Brr!” You feigned a shiver.

“Och, c’mon, lassie. It’s no’ tha’ bad. Here. Have a wee seat by me, and I’ll get some drinks to warm us up.”

He popped the cap on the ciders using the edge of a rock, and handed you one. You drank it, savoring the dry, apple taste and soft fizz.

“There, mhèirleach. All better?”

You nodded, sitting next to him in the pool and laying your head back on the large stones, relaxing, taking in the view. It looked like something you would put on your laptop screen. It was unreal.

“You made a pretty good Hamish today,” you complimented him.

“Spent a lot of my life pretending to be other people. Comes natural at this point, ye ken?” He stared off at the mountains with you, enjoying the view.

“I’m sure you’re ready to be back in the action instead of tasting cakes with your sister’s American friend,” self-deprication was your bread and butter, so you offered it up to him to punish yourself with.

“No,” he turned his eyes away from the grandeur and focused them on you, “What did Pidge tell you about me?”

“Well, she…”

“Ah ah, no. Don’t sugar-coat it.”

You sighed, looking into your cider for courage,

“She told me not to let you get too close. Said you’re a bit of a playboy.”

He laughed in a bitter way, taking a sip of his cider,

“Did she, now? And what do you believe, hen?”

You paused, not knowing what to say. So, you just told the truth,

“I think she’s probably right. I don’t know why she’d lie to me. And Bekah and Cherise -”

“Bekah and Cherise are full of shite. And so is my wee sister.”

He shook his head, clearly upset by your appraisal. You stayed silent, not knowing what to say. You decided to try to lighten the mood,

“Bet you take all the pretty girls to this spot, playboy.”

You elbowed him in the ribs, and he spun on you, quick as a shot. He grabbed your arm that had elbowed him and faced you, standing in front of you in the clear water. It rushed along his chest, moving around the plump muscles and dusting of chest hair, matting it against his skin. He smelled so much like oranges right then, and it was invading your senses.

He ignored your attempt at a joke, and his face became serious instead,

“I ken why she kept you from me now. You’re off-limits. She knew how I’d feel. My sister knows me better than anyone, and I hate her for it.”

“Hate her?” You tried to understand what he was saying, but you didn’t pull away. His breath smelled like alcohol and apples and his eyes gleamed in the low light of the afternoon sun.

“Well, not hate, maybe. But, she must’ve known. She had to.”

“Known what?” You knew what. Some animal part inside of you bared its teeth and warned you, but you asked it anyway.

“She knew I’d like you.”

It was so quiet in your little secluded glade.

He pressed his hands to the sides of your face, staring into your eyes, looking into them, his own eyes searching them for an answer to a question you couldn’t hear.

You let him kiss you. You even kissed him back. He was cinnamon and apples and cake and sugar and tobacco and some other human taste that you chased and chased and chased.

Then, you pulled away.

“We can’t. I…I promised.”

“Aye, as did I. But, she’s a hypocrite.”

“She’s my best friend.”

He looked into your eyes and saw your desperation there, knowing he’d won but surrendering anyway.

Johnny let you go and finished his drink in a single gulp. He sat behind you, and you didn’t turn around. You felt him pull you into his lap to sit on the rough stone ledge, and he whispered,

“Tell me the sonnet you like, bonnie. You said you studied it.”

You tried to make excuses, not in the mood to show off,

“It’s not a very good one. A lot of people -”

“Say it for me. C’mon, lass. Just this once. I promise I’ll bring you back to your friend. But, just this once…”

You paused, feeling his arms wrap around you, not too tight, and nothing inappropriate, hugging you to himself platonically, waiting. You cleared your throat and tried to enunciate,

“Those lips that Love’s own hand did make, Breathed forth the sound that said ‘I hate’, To me that languished for her sake…

His fingers made little circles on your ribcage, rubbing your skin beneath the water.

“But when she saw my woeful state, Straight in her heart did mercy come, Chiding that tongue that ever sweet Was used in giving gentle doom; And taught it thus anew to greet…”

You grabbed his hand with your own, lacing your fingers together like a tied knot.

“‘I hate’ she altered with an end, That followed it as gentle day, Doth follow night, who like a fiend From heaven to hell is flown away. ‘I hate’, from hate away she threw, And saved my life, saying ‘not you’.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. You couldn’t breathe. Johnny MacTavish liked you, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

“Thank you, mo mhèirleach. Time to take you back. Been away with the fairies too long, I ken.”

The drive back was quiet. You held hands through the mountains. You let go as you pulled into the driveway. Your bones ached. Your wet bra and panties were making you cold, and you had tangles in your wet hair from the drive.

Johnny had left his phone in the Jeep cupholder, so you grabbed it along with the wet towels you had used. Pidge came out of the house to greet you and help with the bags,

“Jesus! What happened to you two?”

“Caught in the rain. Here’s your contract, Pidgie. I need a shower,” he covered for you.

“Roger’s here,” she reported.

Roger was Hamish’s younger brother, just a teenager. Johnny paused, looking at Pidge with a hard stare,

“And where’s he gonna sleep? We cannae put the lad on the floor, Bridgette.”

“You sleep on the floor then, you numpty,” she slapped his arm.

You interjected, torturing yourself,

“We can sleep in his bed. It’s not a big deal. It’s just for a few nights. Is that alright with you, Johnny?”

Pidge was standing between you, so she missed the pale face of fear plastered with Johnny’s open, shocked mouth.

“Shite, are you sure, babe? He snores like a bear.”

You nodded,

“No worries.”

“Johnny MacTavish, I swear on -”

“Go ‘way an’ bile your heid with that shite, Pigeon. I’m not in the mood to be your whippin’ boy.”

He walked into the house, leaving you outside with your best friend, just as he promised.

Something vibrated in your hands. It was Johnny’s phone. He had one missed call from Bekah, and as you were dismissing it, trying to close the lock screen, you saw her text pop up in the banner bar:

Ettrick’s for pints again, Soap? xx

You felt a cold shiver tremble through you as you followed Pidge inside.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Notes:

mo chridhe (moh HREE-yuh) - my heart mo mhèirleach (moh MER-lakh) - my thief

Chapter 04

#johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mctavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader

129 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 7 months

Text

pearl: march 1986

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 3.4k summary: hushed confessions midst the end of the world.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, violence / blood / description of injuries (events from s4), mentions of death / losing a loved one, adult language, use of pet names, emotional hurt / no comfort - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

pearl masterlist

March 21, 1986

Everyone that’s ever met Eddie Munson, knows he’s not one for rational and thought out decisions.

As a matter of fact, even people that have never made an effort to get to know him also always just assume he acts on impulse. They’re all correct. He does tend to act on gut instinct. Based on his feelings rather than sound logic. He’s not one for overthinking and over analysing every single scenario. He acts purely by following his heart.

However, as Eddie stared into Chrissy Cunningham’s snow-like empty eyes, he deeply regretted not being a person who took a second before making a choice.

“Wake up, Chrissy.”

His own voice sounds panicked and honestly, how can it not be. She was pale and cold to the touch. This was beyond fucking weird, like some creepy horror shit and Eddie wanted no part of it.

“Chrissy, wake up!” He’s pleading, shaky hands tapping her shoulders nervously, “I don’t like this, Chrissy! Wake up!”

He finds himself still praying for this to be some sort of stupid prank, hoping that Jason Carver will jump out at any given moment with a video camera and a stupid grin plastered across his idiotic face, yelling: “We got you, freak!”.

Unfortunately, as the lights flicker out of control and the longer Eddie shakes the blonde's seemingly unconscious frame, the more he thinks this is definitely not a high-school prank ‘cause those idiots aren’t smart enough to pull off something as elaborate as this.

“Chrissy, wake up now! Chrissy—”

Then the phone rings, startling him even more. He glances at the device mounted on the wall and his eyes gloss over with tears. He knows who’s calling. But he can’t answer, can he? You’d instantly sense something is off and he can’t risk you coming here out of worry and also being witness to… to whatever the fuck was happening right now. Plus, would you even believe him if he told you in the first place?

Hastily running a hand down his face, feeling nothing but extreme fright, Eddie approaches the phone and after quickly looking back at Chrissy, he places the handset to his ear.

“H-he- llo-”

The line distorts your voice. He can barely make out your greeting and the question that follows. Not like it matters anyway. Not like anything matters ‘cause Chrissy’s body lifts itself off the ground and is now floating mid-air in his small living room.

“What the f—”

“E-ed-die? A-re y-you oka—”

Chrissy’s unconscious frame flings itself against the ceiling with a thud and the metalhead drops the handset, chord dangling against the wall as his own body falls helplessly to the ground.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yells as he tries to push himself backwards, deeper into the trailer

Every inch of him is terrified. He’s screaming now and he’s sure you can hear him on the other line. Then his gut instinct kicks in. The one he blamed for getting him into this mess in the first place is now urging him to get up and run. If not for his sake, than for the person he loved most in this world.

You’re no doubt going to either come here or call for help, or both, and when Chief Powell comes with his goon squad, they’re going to think Eddie’s responsible for this horrific scene. They’d lock him up, no questions asked.

And Eddie couldn’t have you thinking you killed this poor girl. He needed that chance to explain himself. Surely you’ll forgive him for running. Surely you’ll understand.

March 22, 1986

“I swear, I don’t even know her name,” Mr. Munson tells the police, “I never seen her ‘fore.” He exhales a long and no doubt exhausted breath, then briefly glances at you. “I got the call shortly after you guys did, I assume. Eddie’s friend here, well, she uh… she found the girl.”

“I think it’s— Her name is Chrissy,” you blurt out quietly, “Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chief Powell straightens his posture. His gaze narrows, only for his expression to soften a split second later. You assume it’s because you look terrible. Eyes puffy, makeup smudged from a mix of tears and stress, and your bottom lip won’t stop trembling.

“And how did Eddie know,” he pauses and lowers his voice, “Miss Cunningham?”

You shrug. “They go to the same school so I assume that’s where they met.”

Chief Powell nods, motions for Officer Callahan to come over, whispers something in the young police officer's ear, and without saying anything else to you, he walks away.

“Do you know where he went?” Officer Callahan asks.

“Eddie? No, I don’t.” You answer honestly, crossing your arms across your chest. “I-I heard him scream over the phone and when I asked what was going on and… h-he wouldn’t respond to me, I-I got here as fast as I could. Then I contacted the station and then Mr. Munson.”

“Eddie rang you?” Officer Callahan enquiries.

“I called him.”

“And did you know the young lady was with him?”

“No, I thought he was alone,” you say and glance at Wayne, who’s gone over to talk to another officer. He shoots you a timid smile, the best he can probably muster at this time, and proceeds to search the pockets of his pants for his packet of smokes.

You sigh. “Look, I know you’re probably thinking Eddie did this, but I can assure you, he did not.”

Officer Callahan raises a brow, as if to urge you to go on. So you do.

“When I called Eddie… Sir, I heard him scream. He sounded fucking terrified. Why would he be so scared if he’s the one that did this?” You pause, “I-I think there was someone else at the trailer last night and—”

“Thank you, Miss.” Officer Callahan interrupts and leans in a little closer towards you, “Since you heard some of what happened here last night, we’ll get someone from the squad to escort you home.”

“You think I’m in danger?” You practically scoff, “Eddie didn’t do this. He shouldn’t be chased down like some sort of criminal. He’s a victim here too!”

That turns a few heads, Chief Powell and Wayne included. You curse under your breath yet even though you can feel yourself getting really frustrated, all you can think about is Eddie. What he witnessed last night, the scene you came across when you arrived at the trailer, you’re convinced something’s happening in the Upside Down again. This whole circus is a total waste of time. Eddie’s not safe.

Chief Powell is now back in front of you. His hands are on his hips, trying to assert dominance, and a frown is spread across his features. “Look, kid, I liked your dad. He was a good man and what happened to him, well it’s no doubt caused you a lot of pain.”

You’re chewing on the inside of your cheek, fighting back the tears, as Chief Powell continues. “Please let one of my officers take you home, okay? Your mom is probably worried sick since gossip in this town spreads like wildfire,” he tries to lighten the mood but fails, “And I’ll make you a deal, okay? If you stay home with your mom, I’ll make sure when we find young Mr. Munson, we won’t treat him harshly.”

One of his hands is now on your shoulder, squeezing it in an act of reassurance.

“You’ll call me too,” you add.

Chief Powell nods. “You’ll be the first person I call. Deal?”

Growing up with a dad on the force exposed you to a lot of things kids normally don’t encounter until much later in life, if ever. Your dad taught you a lot. One of the things being: people aren’t always honest when their reputation is on the line. Chief Powell didn’t really care about what happened to Eddie, not even for your sake, which meant you had to do everything in you power to find the metalhead first.

“Deal,” you lie through your teeth, faking a kind smile.

However, you couldn’t do that alone.

“Dustin, please tell me you have something.”

Headset pressed to your ear, cord wrapped around your wrist. You’re bouncing impatiently and every so often, nervously peeping around the corner into the living room where your mom sat with Wayne.

They didn’t seem to hear you or your scheming, too lost in a conversation you really couldn’t follow right now. You had other pressing matters on your mind — finding your… your Eddie.

“If you stopped asking me every five seconds, perhaps I’d have more information to give you,” Dustin jeers. His tone is not meant to be harmful and you don’t take it that way. You’re just glad they all agreed to help. “Here, can one of you calm her down? I need to think.”

You assume he passes the phone to either Robin or Steve, and you’re proven right when the next thing you hear is, “Hey, how are you doing?”, in the smooth tone of Mr. Best Hair in Hawkins himself.

“How do you think?” You snap, quickly following your mini outburst with, “Sorry, this is just…”

“A lot?” Steve finishes your sentence and although he can’t see you, you nod against the headset.

“Well, our best people are on it. We’ll find him.” Steve tries to reassure.

“I hope so,” you breathe, once again glancing in the direction of Wayne and your mom. “This whole situation is just so fucked up and like really scary. I thought El closed the portal. I thought last July was the end of these encounters with the Upside Down.”

“We all did,” Steve mumbles on the other line, “But you can’t think ahead right now, okay? First thing is to find Eddie before anyone else does.”

As always, Harrington was right. “I know. I just wish I could be helping you guys, but instead I’m stuck here with a fucking police unit outside my home.”

Steve exhales into the headset. He’s about to say something when all of a sudden there’s a little commotion followed by some seemingly excited mumbling. You’re about to ask what’s going on when you hear my own being called over and over again on the other line.

“Tell me you still have your walkie?” Dustin is back on the line, “You know the one from last year’s Starcourt Mall events? Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

“I-I do, yeah. It’s somewhere in my wardrobe.”

“Go, go get it right now and make sure it still works,” Dustin instructs eagerly, “We have a good lead as to where Eddie is hiding out. We’ll contact you when we’re with him.”

You have questions that you don’t get to ask ‘cause a mere split second later, all you hear is the dial tone.

Your mind is spinning, heart racing. They found him. A small victory — although why didn’t it feel like one?

March 23, 1986

“So, I guess they told you everything, huh?” You ponder into the walkie, pulling the bedspread up to your chin.

The room feels dark and cold. You suppose, given the situation, it almost is. Your blinds are shut tight and you have the light switched off, so that any lurkers couldn’t suspect you’re sitting here — and since yesterday afternoon, that number has unfortunately increased significantly.

As soon as Jason’s goon squad found out about the situation, he sent a couple of his trusted “men” to keep an eye on you and your house. The police officers assigned to “protect” me, rotated in shifts, and dare you say have gotten a little too comfortable, knocking on your door to use the bathroom or smooth-talk your mom into making them coffee. Word also spread through town about Eddie being a devil worshipper and as his “girlfriend”, you simply had to be lying about his whereabouts. Honestly, all the crowd across the road is missing are pitchforks.

Idiots. As if you’d be stupid enough to lead any of them to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie exhales into the walkie, “They did.”

You swallow. “I-I suppose you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“No,” he’s quick to respond, “Not really. I mean, you did what you had to, princess. What you thought was right and I can’t be mad at that. But it does explain a lot. Like—”

“My nightmares,” you chime and Eddie chuckles lightly before agreeing. “Yeah, like your nightmares.”

There’s a moment of congenial silence.

You want nothing more than to be by his side and have him hold you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. Fuck. Tears form in the corners of your eyes at the thought. Not only was that not possible right now, neither of you knew when you’d actually see each other again. The topic loomed over your heads, yet you didn’t dare to utter the words aloud ‘cause things were so good recently, and now… Well, avoidance worked for you in the past, (for a while anyway).

“I’m sorry, Eds.”

“Don’t be, sweetheart.”

“Well, maybe if I told you sooner, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now. Maybe if you knew what we all knew, you could have come here instead of hiding out all alone. So yeah, I’m sorry. I’m always going to be sorry.”

Eddie sighs into the walkie. “Timing just never seems to be on our side, huh.”

When you don’t respond, because it hurts your heart, you half expect him to cut the conversation short, say he’s tired or whatever and wish you a goodnight. And you wouldn’t blame him either. You’ve all had a tough couple of days, but his must have been the most exhausting.

The metalhead seems to have other plans.

“Cry baby. Cry baby. Cry baby. Honey, welcome back home.”

You can’t help but crack a smile as Eddie starts singing softly. His voice, although a little distorted, is as angelic as ever and you let your eyes close, resting your head on the headboard — you’re not entirely sure at which point you drift off to sleep but you do, imagining the metalhead is next to you.

“I know she told you.

Hon', I know she told you that she loved you

Much more than I did

But I know that she left you

And you swear that you just don't know why

But you know, hon', I'll always

I'll always be around

If you ever want me”

March 27, 1986

The last few days have been a complete and utter blur, not to mention a horrifying mess.

You manage to sneak out of your over-guarded home, although your reunion with Eddie isn’t as happy as you both would’ve liked it to be ‘cause suddenly, you find yourselves in the Upside Down fighting for your lives.

Eddie helps Dustin up the makeshift rope before turning to you. The second his chocolate-like gaze locks with yours, a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t exactly tell what he’s thinking, but he’s serving an apologetic expression with a broken smile.

So you do what feels right in the moment and throw your arms around his neck, causing him to stumble backwards a little. He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. If anything, his grip is a lot stronger than normal and you’re feeling even more concerned than seconds ago.

“Come on!” Dustin yells, “We don’t have time for this!”

The rest of the teens' words fizzle out into the background. All you’re focused on is the faint sound of Eddie’s heartbeat and his hushed breathing into the crook of your neck. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, but before you get to ask why this feels like a goodbye when you’ve just reunited, he places a kiss on your cheek and lets his arms fall.

“Go on, princess.”

You glance at the rope he’s now holding before looking back at him.

“Eddie—”

“Go on. I’m right behind you,” Eddie reassures and you don’t try to protest anymore because you trust him. Instead, you reach for the rope and begin to climb up, aware of his hands hovering over your lower back, ready to push or hold you up if needed.

You fall through and immediately stand to allow space for Eddie, however, the metalhead doesn’t follow. Dustin is yelling, urging Eddie on whose sole attention is on you. You realise then what he’s been planning and your throat dries to the point where it feels like sandpaper.

“Eddie,” you call out, voice breaking, “You said you were right behind. I-I am begging you, please, please, come here.”

He offers you a smile. One that causes your heart to falter. You know what he’s doing. You know now exactly what he’s thinking. Most importantly, you know what he’s going to say next and you don’t want to hear it. Not here.

“Please, Eddie.” you beg him, eyes watering, “Not like this.”

“I love you, princess.”

And before the admission can even settle in the air, before you get a chance to say that you love him too, desperately and with your whole heart, you’re forced to watch him rush off as Dustin hollers his name.

The room comes to a standstill. For a couple of seconds, you’re unable to move. Your body feels heavy as you’re staring blankly ahead at the spot Eddie’s just vanished from. He loves me, you think, bottom lip quivering. He loves me.

Inhale, exhale. You snap back to reality. The tears that have been forming in your eyes stop before they breach completely.

Dustin is pacing. He stops when you call his name: once, twice, three times. The two of you exchange a knowing glance. Neither of you speak. There’s no time. The young teen helps you without question. He's on the floor in seconds, ready to hoist you up.

It takes a few attempts, mostly because your whole body is shaking, but you manage to go through the portal once again.

“Don’t wait for me,” Dustin urges in a panicked tone. “Find him.”

All you do is nod.

Eddie’s not hard to find. His agonising screams give his location away pretty quickly. And you’re terrified as you run in his direction. Terrified of what he’s gotten himself into and terrified if he was gonna make it out alive.

He’s coughing up blood when you reach him. You immediately fall to your knees next to him and scan his extensive wounds, hands shaking. The scene in front of you is grisly. Your mind is racing, trying to come up with a way to help him — help get him out of here safely and to a hospital as soon as possible.

Ultimately you feel helpless ‘cause you’re not sure how to do that.

Eddie coughs again. His hand reaches for yours and he squeezes, bringing you back to Earth.

“Look at me,” he murmurs and you oblige without hesitation. “I-I’m okay, so get out of here.”

You shake my head rather ferociously. “I-I’m not leaving you.” You finally allow yourself to start crying, readjusting your position so that his head is now resting in your lap. “I shouldn’t have let you do this in the first place. Why did you do this, Eddie?”

“It’s done now.” Eddie does his best to offer you a smile. “I-I didn’t run. I fought back.”

The tears that are trailing down your cheeks are burning into your skin. You smile back, a broken smile with nothing but pain behind it, then brush some of his loose curls away from his face. You proceed to cup his cheek and Eddie leans into your touch. It’s a moment that feels safe — despite the fact that your intertwined fingers are resting on his chest and you can feel the blood seep through.

He squeezes your hand again. “I-I meant what I said—”

“Not like this,” you interrupt in a whimper, “Ehm… Uhm… Dustin will be here soon a-and we’re gonna get you out of here together. You’re gonna be okay. Then you can tell me again, okay? Not like this, Eddie.”

But he just shakes his head. “Yes, yes like this. I-I love you.”

“Eddie—”

“P-please, sweetheart. Please. I love you…”

Eddie’s voice fades into the darkness that’s surrounding the two of you and his eyes drift close.

You say his name.

When you gauge no reaction, you say it again, and again, and again.

Then you scream.

First in agony, then you scream his name. You beg him to open his eyes, but he’s unresponsive. Bloody hand in yours, he’s drifting somewhere between life and death and you continue to cry.

That’s how Dustin finds you. Eddie, dying in your arms.

pearl masterlist

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys , @kurdtbean

#im sorry in advance—#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson story #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson angst #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x best friend reader #pearl (eddies version)

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beg-for-us · 5 days

Note

this is gonna be more of a pretty serious ramble about my sexuality than a hornypost

so, like, I'm asexual. Sexual images don't turn me on. But like, when I was 16 I discovered masturbation and how good it feels, and I quickly found out that I find some kinks pretty exciting. But I notice that I seem to have pretty strong post nut clarity.

Some time later I do some overthinking and realise I like CNC and being submissive and all bc it's thrilling. The same way many people find a good action movie thrilling. But like, I still masturbate about kinky fantasies.

Today, normal me and horny me basically have totally different desires.

Like, when I'm horny I yearn to be dominated and wish I had a partner and think about ordering sex toys, edging, etc. and "training" myself into the perfect toy/pet/whatever. But when the post nut clarity hits I don't want any of that and I realize how irrational it is and how to a certain degree porn has brainwashed me into being into some weird degrading shit.

And I just don't know what to do, tbh.

Like one moment I'm fine, have normal life goals etc. and the next moment I just wanna be someone's little denied pet that gets forged into whatever my owner wants and all thar horny shit.

And then I cum and feel horrible and become really rational and really hate my horny side.

And no, I don't "secretly crave it" whenever I'm not horny. I'm legit kinda terrified of how I don't seem to have full control over such desires and it's also kind of fascinating how I can have desires that just go radically against my rational thinking and common sense.

Idk, just felt like venting and like, asking, maybe you have some advice? Any comment? idk

If it means anything to my credibility here, I'm actually ace/aro myself and know a lot about where you're coming from with that, from personal experience.

I fully agree with the thing about porn. I think most people realize that it's not at all a reflection about what actual sex is like, but I'm not entirely sure to what extent people understand that it's basically all fake.

I've been part of the BDSM community basically since I turned 18, so that's almost 7 years now, and I promise that people in the real world are absolutely nothing like what you see in porn, or even people on the online BDSM community. Honestly, it just sounds to me like no one's ever let you know what the reality of those communities is like, so I'm gonna try my best to explain at least from my experience.

If it helps, the reason that most people will refer to BDSM stuff as a 'scene' is because everyone involved is aware that it's pretty much just acting. Like, people who do pet play are aware they're not actually dogs, it just gets them off to be treated like it. People who like slave/master stuff are aware that the person who's the 'master' in the scene does actually view the other person as an equal once the scene ends. CNC is fully consentual, and when done properly, has a safe word.

When I first started out, it was made very, incredibly clear to me that in any kink space, you're gonna spend a lot of time just talking. Before any scene, you talk about what your boundaries are. You talk about a safe word. You talk about what kind of things you do want to happen, and what kind of things you specifically don't want to happen.

I think maybe what you're lacking is aftercare. I primarily dom, so I can't speak from any sort of personal experience as a sub, but I have spoken to people who sub before who've expressed similar thoughts. Aftercare isn't just bringing bottled water, patching up bruises, and taking a shower. It also involves both parties talking about what just happened, if any boundaries were accidentally crossed, if something happened that they didn't know they liked/didn't know they wouldn't like, etc. Any degradation should be met with an equal amount of praise. Subs and pets get gently brought out of that headspace and back to reality. Aftercare like that is especially important for harder things like CNC, I literally can't imagine being a dom or sub in a CNC scene and not having like a talk afterwards, where you reassure the sub that you value their consent, and you reassure the dom that they didn't cross any lines, etc.

And I hate the 'secretly crave it' type shit too. No, not everyone wants to be kept as a pet 24/7. Not everyone wants to keep a pet 24/7. People who are into CNC aren't going around secretly wishing for something non-consentual.

Idk, my two cents is that some people require more aftercare than others, and you definitely sound like you would benefit from more aftercare. There's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting weird shit during sex, but it's always good to get that reassurance immediately after as well, yk?

This is a link to a reddit post about self-aftercare. Maybe give some of these ideas a try, a lot of them seem like they'd be pretty helpful.

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bookish-whore · 1 year

Text

'Til Death

Rhysand x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: arranged marriage, mostly fluff, themes of emotional/psychological abuse

A/N: Welcome to Day Three!!! Today we have the first part of what I think will become a cute little slow burn/strangers to lovers/forced proximity fic. this is based on a request one of you lovely anons sent in and I hope you like it!

My Masterlist -> Here

Join my Taglist -> Here

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I never imagined myself getting married.

As a child I detested the idea. In fact, I remember a conversation with my parents about how I would rather renounce my titles and claims to my fortune than be forced to be a bride.

It all happened so quickly I didn’t even have time to truly process that today was the day. As I stared in the mirror at myself in this ridiculous white dress, I couldn’t help but feel as though my freedom was slipping away with each passing minute. I wiped a stray tear from the corner of my eye when the door opened without warning and a blonde female entered the room, she was stunning, one of the most beautiful females I had seen. She wore a form fitting red dress, her blonde hair cascading down her back in loose curls.

“Hello, its y/n right? You look absolutely beautiful” the female remarked

“Umm…yes” I said tentatively “who are you?”

“Oh! My apologies I didn’t think about how strange this would be for you. My name is Morrigan, Mor for short and I am Rhysands cousin. I know this isn’t the best circumstance for us to meet under, but I have something for you…from Rhys.”

“For me?” I asked, she extended her hand and there was a letter with my name on the front and a black seal with the night court emblem on the back. I turned it over in my hands analyzing the elegant script that I deduced belonged to my future husband.

“This is all just so…overwhelming” I admitted

“Trust me, I get it probably on a level many others don’t. I just came because Rhys thought it might help your nerves to get to know him a little before the ceremony. He managed to delay a few more hours on account of some fake emergency.”

“I’ll be just outside the door waiting for your answer.” She said quickly turning and leaving the room, closing the heavy door as softly as she could manage.

I made my way to the couch in the dressing room and sat carefully, trying not to wrinkle my dress. I broke the seal, removing the letter. I was surprised to find he had such elegant handwriting

Y/n, I’m sure an arranged marriage to a complete stranger was not what you had envisioned for your wedding day (on that we can both agree) My cousin has no doubt used her eccentric flare to get you to read this and I hope that you will join me for a drink before we do this, while not what we planned I hope that we can make the best of this situation. -Rhysand

I appreciated the effort, and I had to admit I was curious about my soon-to-be-husband. Before I could lose my nerve and overthink his gesture I stood, opening the door to find Mor exactly where she said.

“Let’s go for a drink” I said

“Seems like the rational thing to do” she replied with a smile, extending her arm for me to take and she led me through the halls of this manor to what I presumed was the roof.

As Mor opened the door I was struck with this feeling, I was nervous to meet him, I mean I knew him by his reputation but had never met the High Lord of the Night Court. If the stories were to be believed he was menacing, cruel, and evil but the man who wrote that note didn’t seem like any of those things.

“Good luck” Mor whispered as she closed the door leaving me alone with him up here

His back was turned as I approached him, but I took in his height, he was easily one of the taller males I had met. His hair was an interesting shade of black, almost like a raven’s feathers and he wore a well-fitted black suit.

I halted behind him and smoothed out my dress. I should try and make a good impression after all, and I cleared my throat to garner his attention. He turned and I was immediately struck by his eyes. They were such a unique shade of violet; it was unlike anything I had ever seen before and as his eyes met mine all thoughts exited my head as I looked into his eyes, I mean really looked, I noticed that from a distance they looked violet but up close it was like a galaxy like the night sky itself, there were flecks of silver, blue, and violet within his irises and I couldn’t help but wonder what he made of me.

“Hi” I said, giving him an awkward wave “I’m y/n, I’m sure the long white dress is a dead giveaway”

“It’s a pleasure” he said “I’m Rhysand, but my family calls me Rhys and I would like you to do so as well if you feel comfortable with that”

I nodded my answer

“So, what’s your drink of choice?” he asked

“I’ll take whatever you’re having” I said eying the glass of amber liquid he held in his hand

“A woman of refined tastes” he teased “I think we’ll get along fine”

He poured me a glass and motioned for me to sit, I didn’t enjoy being ordered around but I was intrigued by what he would say, what he would do given the situation.

“I can tell you’re nervous” he said taking a sip from his glass “Why?” he asked

“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean I am about to get married to a man who I hardly know”

“What exactly would you like to know?” he asked

“Well, for starters where will we be living?”

“In my townhouse, in Velaris” he answered simply

“What will my duties entail?”

“You aren’t my property y/n, you’ll be free to do whatever you wish. If you want to be a part of official court conversations, you will be as my equal worthy of the respect my court gives me or if you want to shop and live a life of leisure you are free do so as well. The choice is yours”

I took a sip of my drink, relishing in the slight burn as the liquid slid down my throat. Freedom. I would be free.

“And what about my wifely…duties” I asked, “what about children, your heirs?”

“I would never take someone into my bed unwillingly. Yes, you will be my wife but you aren’t some brood mare meant only for childbearing. Should you wish for a child, I’m sure we can work it out and should you never want children then so be it. We are going to be equals y/n, on that I swear.”

I felt much more at ease with that, he was offering me a life, he was offering me freedom, freedom to make myself something and to decide what I wanted for my life. It was something I hadn’t had.

For most of my life my parents had spent their time priming me to become the perfect wife. I learned to perform house duties like cooking, baking, sewing. I was taught history, and arithmetic and once I turned 16 my lessons transitioned to the ways to pleasure and please a man. Once they felt I was suitable for a match, they began making connections. I’m not entirely sure how they landed on Rhysand, or how they got him to agree to a marriage, but I assumed it had something to do with their control on spices and mining resources.

But now.

Now I had the opportunity to be more than a wife. He said I would be his equal. I felt the faint fluttering of butterflies in my stomach at the thought. I would outrank my parents; I would no longer be under their control and the thought had me practically running to the altar to say ‘I do’

“y/n?” Rhysand pressed “are you alright”

“Absolutely, I’m just thinking”

“Can I ask about what?”

“About my future”

“It’s a lot to think about” he agreed, finishing his glass

I downed the rest of the liquid in my glass “What time is it?” I asked

“Half-past seven” he said checking his watch “I should probably go back downstairs, make sure everything is in order”

“I didn’t get a chance to thank you…for all of this” I said

“Well, for starters you can follow through with your end of this deal and promise not to leave me up at the altar alone” he joked

I smiled, he really had a great sense of humor and I think we could even become friends.

“I wouldn’t dare embarrass a high lord like that” I teased back

“I’ll see you down there.” He said standing as he made his way to the door “I’ll be the one standing in the aisle”

“And I’ll be the one in the white dress” he nodded as the door closed leaving me alone on the roof.

I took some deep breaths before going back to my dressing room.

-----

I had to admit that it was beautiful. It was simple.

While being an arrangement, I still wanted my close friends and family present, it was a big day after all and I would only be doing this once. The setting was small and intimate, two rows on either side of the aisle and a simple arch where Rhys stood with the High Priestess.

When I made it down the aisle, Rhys took my hands in his, and the high priestess began the ceremony, I focused on the words being spoken in the old language. The priestess asked me to repeat after her:

“I take you, Rhysand, as my husband; to stand strong and equal by my side. by destiny we are aligned. W-We will face challenges together and find st-strength in our union. By the Sun, Moon, & Stars.”

The priestess nodded as she continued, and I repeated after her.

“May we always be as happy as we are today. May the mother give us knowledge on our way to come. May she bless us with strength and courage, and may she grant us safety, family, and prosperity.”

As if sensing my anxiety, Rhys squeezed my hand, the small gesture grounded me as Rhysand repeated the same vows. We then moved to the hand-cord portion. The priestess projected her voice to us and our guests.

“You were asked to choose ribbons in 3 colors to be woven together as a tangible symbol of the values and virtues that you hold dear in your lives and in your union. You chose red, symbolic of fire and passion, so that your love may always be bright, warm, and passionate. Green, representative of delicate leaves, symbolic of growth, so your love may be fruitful and vibrant, and your happiness abundant. And black, to represent wisdom, success, and strength.”

As she spoke, she wrapped the ribbons around out joined hands, tucking the ends into each other and placing her hands on top to offer the final blessing.

“These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, for a lifetime of happiness. These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes, tears of sorrow and tears of joy. These are the hands that will comfort you in illness and hold you when fear or grief racks your mind. These are the hands that will hold you tight as you struggle through difficult times. These are the hands that will give you support and encourage you to chase your dreams. Together, everything you wish for can be realized.”

She looked between us and our joined hands as she spoke the next part

“This cord of three braided ribbons symbolizes so much. It is your life, your love, and the eternal connection that the two of you have found with one another. The true bonds of this handfasting are not formed by these ribbons, or even by the knot connecting them. They are formed instead by your vows, by your pledge, your souls, and your two hearts, now bound together as one. May your hands be forever clasped in friendship, and your hearts joined forever in love… by the power vested in me by the cauldron and the mother, I declare you husband and wife. You may kiss.”

Before I had time to panic about kissing him his mouth was on mine. It was a quick but firm kiss purely out of necessity.

And just like that we were married.

We decided to make our rounds and say hello to all of our guests before leaving. Rhysand walked us to his group of friends, I hadn’t officially met them yet, but I’m sure that would come once he whisked me away to the night court. They clapped him on the back and gave him wide smiles, even though our situation was unusual they seemed to support him. They had such an easy familiarity. They just seemed to understand each other.

I stood there pondering my circumstances, in truth, I was excited to be on my own, even if that meant being attached to Rhysand. I would be in a new home, a new place, and away from my parents. I had never even been away on my own and now I would be saying goodbye to them for the foreseeable future. Perhaps I would find my own friends, my own family and that thought electrified me.

The last people to talk to before we departed were my parents.

It was a brief meeting of polite conversation, I didn’t dare show my excitement to be free of them. I spoke only when absolutely necessary but with each passing minute I became more anxious to leave. As if sensing my rising nerves, Rhys pulled me to his side and spoke excusing us.

“It was a pleasure to meet you both” Rhysand said shaking my father’s hand and giving my mother a nod “but it’s getting late and we should be going we have quite a ways to travel tonight”

They both nodded in understanding and my mother, always one for the optics, pulled me into a final embrace and held me tight, taking the opportunity to whisper in my ear “Remember your lessons, don’t disappoint us”

I pulled away taking one last look at them before Rhysand grabbed me around the waist, winnowing us away.

-----

We arrived at the townhouse.

It was much cozier than I had imagined. Rhys gave me a tour starting in the foyer which was decorated with a red carpet, with wood-paneled walls and art on each wall. There were two rooms: on the left a sitting room with a black marble fireplace, lots of comfortable, but worn furniture, and bookshelves built into every wall. On the right was a dining room with a long, cherrywood table big enough for ten people. Down the hallway ahead there are a few more doors, which led to the kitchen.

Rhys led me up the wide oak staircase to a hall punctuated with chandeliers of swirled, colored glass that illuminated the bedroom doors and led me down the hall stopping outside a green door.

“This will be your room” he said as he opened the door motioning me to enter.

It was quite beautiful. It was dark out but I could tell that the room faced the back of the townhouse, the large windows peered over the stone fountain in the center of the garden. I took in the décor, everything in the room was a dark, rich, wood and soft white, with touches of subtle sage. The bed was in the center of the far wall and was a massive cloud like thing, adorned in quilts and duvets of cream and ivory with accent pillows in various shades of green.

There was also an attached bathing room made of white marble, with a toilet, a claw-foot tub, and more windows that overlooked the garden wall and a thick line of cypress trees that bordered the property.

“This is incredible” I said as we made our way back to the entrance of my bedroom.

“I want this to feel like your home, this is your space so feel free to make whatever changes you like.” He said

“Rhys- I really don’t know what to say…thank you”

“No thanks necessary. I think we can help each other here.” Before I could ask him to elaborate, he continued “You should get some rest, it’s been a taxing day for the both of us.”

With that he stepped out of the room “Goodnight y/n” he said as he closed the door behind him.

As I looked around the room. my room I suppose. I couldn’t help but think that this morning I thought my circumstances would be much different.

But now?

I think I’m going to like it here.

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Tune back in tomorrow for Day Four ❤️

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