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justsomewritingblog · 2 years

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Avatar:TLA (Part 8)

Request: None

Requested By: Nobody

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Summary: The Deserter

Warnings: Injury

A/N: It’s another oofer!

Word Count: 4K+ (Help. There’s twelve pages.)

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

“This should give us a good idea of what’s around here.” Katara mused, walking up to a sign. It had several papers pinned to the front.

“See if you can find a menu. I’m starving.” Sokka urged.

“I bet we’ll find something to eat, here.” Aang said, pointing to a poster. “The fire-day’s festival. Firenation cultural exhibits. Jugglers. Benders, magicians. This would be a great place to study some real firebenders.”

“When you’re not being attacked by them.” You remarked, arms crossed.

“You might want to listen to Y/n. Look at this.” Sokka said. You all walked to the other side of the sign, seeing what Sokka was looking at.

“Hey! A poster of me!” Aang exclaimed.

“A wanted poster.” Sokka clarified. “This is bad.” Aang took the poster off and examined it.

“There’s the Blue Spirit.” You observed, pointing to the poster. “I don’t know who these two are, though.” You said, pointing to the other two.

“I think we’d better keep moving.” Katara said after a moment.

“I have to learn firebending at some point. And this could be my only chance to watch masters up close.” Aang told her.

“Aren’t you supposed to learn them in an order? Or something?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just trying to watch. To observe to learn on my own, later.” Aang said.

“In the middle of firenation territory?” You argued. “Aang, what if someone recognizes you?”

“They won’t!”

“Aang, do you know how much money you’re worth!?”

“A lot?”

“Yes, Aang. A lot. Imagine how much the Firelord would pay for your capture.” You told him.

“I’ll be careful!” He insisted.

“I guess we could go check it out.” Katara mused quietly.

“Did you not hear what I just said? Guys, this is suicide.” You remarked.

“I can’t believe you two. You want to walk into a firenation town, when they’re all fired up with their….ya know…fire?” Sokka said.

“We’ll wear disguises.” Katara decided. “And if it looks like trouble, we’ll leave.” She said, beginning to walk away, Aang following.

“Yeah. Because we always leave before we get into trouble.” Sokka muttered, sarcasm radiating off of him. You nodded in agreement.

“It happens the same way every time.” You muttered, turning to follow Aang and Katara, Sokka behind you. You followed them to the edge of a cliff, where they saw a town.

“You guys stay here while we go to the festival.” Aang ordered. Momo flew into a bush, while Appa ‘hid’ pathetically behind it.

“Aww! He’s so cute!” You whisper-yelled in your ‘baby’ voice, petting his fur.

“Ready disguises.” Aang ordered. You watched Sokka and Katara pull hoods over their heads, they were wearing capes, and Aang pulled his shirt partly over his head, barely covering his tattoos. You face-palmed.

“It’s like you’re a whole different person.” Sokka remarked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Katara chuckled.

“Let’s go!” Aang exclaimed. You rolled your eyes, letting your hair out of its watertribe style, allowing it to flow down your back. You also put on dark clothes, covering up the blue, and followed your friends into doom.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you got there, it was dark. In the center of town they had a fire sculpture atop a pillar, with strings tied to it. On the strings rested several lanterns, illuminating the town. There were also pillars with real fire on them, helping to brighten the otherwise dimly lit place. Fireworks were set off, drawing your attention to the sky.

“I think we need some new disguises.” Katara mused. You ripped your eyes away from the fireworks and looked around you, seeing everyone wearing masks.

“Where are we gonna get masks like that?” Sokka questioned.

“Get your genuine fire-festival masks here!” A voice spoke. Sokka looked shocked, while Aang and Katara looked happy, running over to the stand. You looked at Sokka and patted his shoulder before joining the younger two.

“That was surprisingly easy.” He muttered. You all bought masks, rather silly looking ones at that, as Sokka wore a happy one, and Aang wore a frowning one. Katara took the two and switched them, better matching their expressions. You followed Aang into the middle of the square where he pointed.

“Hey, there’s some food.” He announced.

“Finally.” Sokka muttered, running up to the cart. “What do you have?” He asked the man. You walked up, curious as well.

“Flaming Fire Flakes.” The man answered, showing Sokka a small pouch of orange pieces. I should also mention that they were steaming. “Best in town.” He assured.

“I’ll take ‘em.” Sokka said, grabbing the bag and stuffing some in his mouth. He then made a face and you could see smoke coming out of his ears. He pulled his mask up and began brushing off his tongue whilst yelling about how hot they were.

“Flaming Fire Flakes.” Katara repeated, crossing her arms. “Hot. What do you know?” She defined tauntingly, and you could imagine the look she was giving her brother. You looked at the bag and popped some in your mouth, ignoring Sokka’s warnings. They were indeed, quite spicy, but you found that you rather quite liked them. You paid the man for another bag and walked off with it, Sokka staring dumbly at your back.

You walked over to a puppet show, your friends following. The Firelord was being shone, and he ‘spoke’.

“Don’t worry, loyal citizens! No one can surprise the Firelord!”

Next to him, a puppet earthbender appeared, holding a large rock in his hand. The children watching told the Firelord to “watch out,” and “look behind him.” Suddenly, the Firelord doll turned, and breathed fire at the earthbender, turning it to ash. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped behind your mask, while the children yelled in victory. You turned to see your friend’s reactions, but you noticed they were already walking away.

“Aang, hold on!” Katara yelled, just as you caught up with her and Sokka. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. But there’s a big crowd, so it must be good.” He reasoned.

“Knowing the firenation, it’s probably an execution.” Sokka mused. You subconsciously held a hand to your neck in worry as you followed them deeper into the crowd. A man was atop a stage, firebending. He was juggling three balls of fire, and shot them all into the air. They exploded, and doves flew out of the flames. Aang had his mask lifted, watching.

“I gotta learn that trick!” He decided. You glared at him and brought his mask back down over his face.

“Firebending isn’t for shows, Aang. Especially not for you. Not yet.” You advised.

“Thank you! For my next trick, I need a volunteer from the audience!” The man shouted. Aang raised his hand. You looked at him like he was crazy, though he couldn’t see, with your mask on and everything.

“Me! Me!” Aang volunteered.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sokka hissed at him.

“I want to get a closer look.” The Avatar answered.

“We’re in the front row. Why do you need a closer look?” You argued.

“It’s better if we don’t attract any attention to ourselves.” Katara warned quietly.

“How about you, little lady?” The man asked, pointing at Katara.

“Uh.” She shook her head and backed away.

“Aw, she’s shy. Let’s give her some encouragement, folks!” He shouted. Everyone began cheering and clapping, save for you, Sokka, and Aang. A young boy shoved her forward, and she got grabbed by the man and pulled on stage. You internally face-palmed.

“Aww. That could have been me.” Aang complained, crossing his arms. You glared at him, forgetting you still wore your mask.

“This next trick is called…..Taming the Dragon!” The man yelled, pulling up a chair. “You will be my captured princess.” He informed Katara, having her sit in the seat. He pulled out a red ribbon and tied her to it. You bit your lip, anxious. The man pulled some fire from the pillars and formed them into a dragon, using his bending to move it around.

“Don’t worry, young maiden!” He shouted at Katara, though it was clearly an act. He moved the fire-dragon around in circles. “I will tame this fiery beast!” He joined fire with it, making it look like a rope as he pulled it around. “It’s too strong! I can’t hold it!” He shouted. The smile on his face told you he had it under control; though it is the firenation, so you weren’t certain.

“We gotta help her!” Aang whisper-yelled.

“No! We don’t wanna make a scene!” Sokka told him, holding him in place.

“The rope! It’s breaking!” The man said.

“Aang, it’s part of the act.” You whispered, hoping he’d understand. The fire-rope dissipated and the man bended the dragon towards Katara. She let out a small yell and Aang jumped in front of her, using airbending to destroy the dragon. Your mouth dropped open in shock, worry, and annoyance as confetti flew in out of nowhere.

“Hey, you trying to upstage me, kid?” The man whispered, now laying on the ground. Aang’s mask had flown off, and you could see his tattoos, though no one seemed to care right away. Boo’s where heard and Aang danced stupidly, while you and Sokka hopped up, untying Katara.

Then, just the thing you didn’t want to hear was said.

“Hey! That kid’s the Avatar!” A man in the audience shouted. Aang ceased his dancing, frozen in fear.

“I think it’s time to go.” Sokka noted, upon seeing firenation soldiers make their way over.

“Follow me! I can get you out of here!” An unknown voice spoke. You all turned and saw a man dressed in dark colors, and he wore a hood and a bandanna around his mouth, revealing only his eyes. You all pondered the offer.

“There they are!” A guard shouted climbing on the stage, others following in pursuit. You all panicked and followed the man into a dark alley, ripping off your masks and throwing them on the ground, seeing as they were no longer useful. The man threw a bomb behind you, putting smoke between you and the firenation soldiers.

You ran through the middle of the town, dodging people and carts.

“Over there!” A voice yelled as you ducked into another alley, another troop of guards on your tail.

“I’m calling Appa!” Aang announced. He pulled the bison-shaped silent whistle out from his jacket and blew into it.

“I hope he can really hear that bison whistle!!” Sokka shouted, panting slightly behind him.

“This way!” The man instructed, leading you down another alleyway. “Okay. Not this way.” He said, stopping upon seeing the rout cut off by armed soldiers. He threw another smoke bomb before leading everyone down another path. Aang, Sokka and Katara came to a sudden stop, you smashing into the back of them. You all toppled over, and you looked up, seeing the trouble. A large cart full of fireworks blocked the path.

You all turned around and saw soldiers closing in on you.

“Appa! Down here!” Aang shouted. You turned, and indeed, Appa flew over, landing between you and the already fleeing guards, slamming his tail on the ground, sending them flying. You ran up to the large creature and kissed him on the forehead.

“What a good boy!” You praised. He licked you and you smiled, joining your friends in the saddle, the man in it as well.

“Yip yip!” Aang instructed. Appa flew into the air, leaving the premises.

The man threw a bomb into the container of fireworks, igniting them.

“Nice touch: setting off the fireworks.” Aang praised, once they were out of reach.

“You seem to really know your explosives.” Sokka added.

“I’m….familiar.” The man said, though somewhat hesitant.

“You’re a firenation soldier!” Sokka revealed.

“Was.” He clarified. “My name’s Chey.” There was silence for a moment before you spoke up.

“’It’d be fine,’ he said. ‘I want to get a closer look,’ he said.” You muttered, turning to Aang. “What did Sokka and I say!?”

“That….we should definitely go down and check?” Aang offered sheepishly. You scowled.

“How about, next time, listen to the big kids.”

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

It was dark, and the gaang had set up camp in a forest. There was a fire going, illuminating everyone’s faces. You all sat in such a tight circle, you were squeezed between Sokka and Aang.

“I serve a man.” Chey started. “More than a man, really. He’s a myth.” He clarified. You were listening, though you didn’t take your eyes off the fire, giving the false impression you had little interest in what he had to say. “But he’s real. A living legend: Jeong Jeong the deserter. He was a firenation general….oh, wait. Was he an admiral?” He asked himself, scratching his head.

“He was very highly ranked, we get it.” Sokka told Chey, urging him to continue.

“Yeah! Way up there!” Chey responded, surprising Sokka, the stick falling out of his grasp. “But he couldn’t take the madness anymore. He’s the first person ever to leave the army and live. I’m the second, but you don’t get to be a legend for that.”

The corner of your mouth lifted a little into a slight smirk.

“That’s okay, though. Jeong Jeong’s a firebending genius! Some say he’s mad….but he’s not. He’s enlightened. You shared a skeptical look with Sokka.

“You mean there’s a firebender out here that’s not with the Firelord?” Aang asked, excited. It was written all over his face. “We’ve got to go see him! He can train me!” He announced, standing abruptly.

“We’re not going to go find some crazy firebender.” Sokka told him.

“He’s not crazy. He’s a genius.” Chey retorted. “And he’s the perfect person to train the Avatar. That’s why I followed you into the festival.”

“Look, thanks for the help, but we’re leaving for the North Pole in the morning.” Sokka said, standing as well, you copying the action.

“Aren’t you supposed to learn the elements in a certain order, anyway?” You added.

“This could be my only chance to meet a firebending master who would actually be willing to teach me.” Aang said sadly. Emotional manipulation, you thought.

“Aang, you’ll find a way. After you learn water and earth. I’m sure the universe or whatever will make it possible.”

“It can’t hurt just to talk to him.” Katara said, standing.

“That’s what you said about going to the festival!” Sokka exclaimed. “Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me!?”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, your eyebrows slightly downcast.

“Us.” He corrected. “Why don’t you listen to us?” Receiving no answer, he turned away, only to be met with the point of a spear. You stepped in front of him, ready to defend, but you were quickly surrounded and outnumbered.

“Don’t. Move.” One of them instructed.

They led you down a thin path in the dark woods, your only light the moon and fireflies.

“Jeong Jeong told you not to look for Avatar.” The man told Chey.

“Hold on, you know these guys?” Sokka questioned.

“Oh, yeah. Lin Ye’s an old buddy.” Chey answered. You cocked an eyebrow, not convinced. “Right Lin Ye?”

“Shut up. Keep moving.” Lin Ye answered, sticking his spear in Chey’s back. You continued walking down the narrow path, until you came upon a small hut on a river.

“Go on. He sees you, only.” Lin Ye informed, shoving Chey forward.

“Oh, that’s okay. We can chat later.”

“Is that where Jeong Jeong is? I need to talk to him right away.” Aang said, stepping forward, only to be cut off by Lin Ye’s spear.

“No. You wait there.” He told Aang. “Go.” He said, shoving Chey forward.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” He announced, walking toward the hut. You heard him muttering to himself, so you listened. “He’s a great man, he’s a great man.”

Your eyebrows pinched together in concern. “It doesn’t seem that even Chey is fully convinced of Jeong Jeong’s wisdom and kindness.” You muttered to yourself.

“What was that?” Sokka asked. You turned to him.

“I’m uneasy. Something seems….” You paused, searching for the correct word. “Off.” You finished. Sokka nodded.

“I know what you mean.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence until Lin Ye shoved you both in a tent, causing you to fall atop each other. You groaned, Sokka following in pursuit as he rolled off of you onto his back.

“They aren’t very hospitable.” He remarked. You chuckled.

“Try to get some sleep.” You advised through a smile.

~~~~~~~~~

It was still dark when Chey entered the tent. Aang sat bolt upright, Momo being launched off his chest.

“What happened? Can I see Jeong Jeong now?” The young boy asked.

“He won’t see you. He’s very angry that I brought you here.”

“I wonder why.” You mumbled.

“He wants you to leave immediately.” Chey continued, not hearing your remark.

“Finally.” Sokka said, getting up as well. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Why won’t he see me?” Aang asked, still confused.

“Aang, has it ever occurred to you that people have reasons that they don’t always share?” You asked, voice laced with sleep.

“He says he’s not ready. He hasn’t mastered waterbending and earthbending yet.” Chey clarified. You sat bolt upright, too, now wide awake.

“I told you.”

“Wait. How does he know that?” Aang asked Chey, slightly alarmed.

“He saw the way you walked into camp. He can tell.”

“I’m going in anyway.” Aang determined, standing and walking away. You groaned and stuffed your face back into your pillow.

“His funeral.” You muttered.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was the next morning and apparently Jeong Jeong agreed to teach Aang firebending. You thought they were both out of their minds, but whatever. Katara was close by, practicing her waterbending. Sokka was sitting on a rock, fishing, while you pondered if you should practice your bending as well.

You didn’t get to learn waterbending at the North Pole, only healing, so you figured if you were going to practice, now was as good a time as any. You steadied your breathing and readied your stance. Pulling at the water, you formed a bubble above your head, ready to practice something you’ve been wanting to try for a while.

You concentrated on the water, and the flowing movement becoming stiff. You shot the water down around your feet, now icicles. You smiled at the result and brought another bubble over your head, ready to go again.

“Wow! Can you teach me that!?” A voice asked. Your concentration shattered, bringing the bubble down on your head with a splash. You frowned. You turned to Katara, the owner of the voice who was currently grinning from ear to ear, and sighed.

“I-I uh. I don’t know. I’m kinda self-taught.” You answered honestly.

“That’s okay. Just teach me what you do to get there.” She replied. You quirked an eyebrow, skeptical.

“I just bring the bubble over my head,” you started, showing her, “then I think of the flowing water becoming still, and-” You cut yourself off, throwing the icicles into the ground in the same manner as before. Katara’s grin somehow only grew.

“Let me try.” She said, forming a bubble as you’d said. She shot it down at the ground, the water breaking off into sections, but not ice. “Phooey.”

“Close. Really concentrate on the water becoming firm. Imagine sharpness, like a needle, or a spear.” You advised. She blew a breath of air out of her mouth and closed her eyes, forming another bubble. Her eyes shut tight and you moved back a few spaces, just to be careful. She shot the water down and peeked her right eye open, before opening both wide and grinning.

“I did it!” She declared, looking back at the ice around her. You smiled.

“Good job.” You complimented. She clasped her hands together, turning to you.

“Anything else?” She asked, her eyes twinkling.

“Uh.” You scratched the back of your head. “You see-” She cut you off.

“You’re right. I should practice this some more.” She determined, going back to her work. Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion, turning to her brother. A smirk played at your lips, as your eyes held a mischievous glint in them. One that would worry anybody. You formed a ball of ice around the fishing pole string, but used your bending to keep it underwater, so it wouldn’t bob to the surface and give it away. Sokka’s face lit up upon feeling the weight, and you almost felt bad for tricking him. Almost.

“I got one! I can’t believe-” He cut himself off as he reeled it in, seeing the ball of ice at the end of it. He frowned at it. “Very funny.” He muttered. You grinned and stepped forward, kissing him on the cheek.

“I’m sorry.” You told him.

“No you’re not.” He muttered, a slightly pink dusting on his cheeks. His shoulders slumped as he cast the line back out. You bit back a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Come on, let’s go find something to eat.” You said. He sighed and set down his fishing pole, following you into the woods.

You had been in there collecting nuts and fruit, when you heard a yell. You and Sokka shared looks and rushed out of the darkening forest, dropping your collected items.

“Katara! I’m so sorry!” You heard Aang shout.

“Katara, what’s wrong!?” Sokka asked, running over and resting his hand on her hers. He glared up at Aang. “What did you do?!”

“It-it was an accident! It was-Katara, I’m so-” Aang started apologizing again, when Sokka lunged at him, tackling him to the ground and pinning his arms next to his head.

“I told you, we shouldn’t mess around with this!” He yelled. “Look what you did! You burned my sister!”

You stared, shocked. You had never seen this side of Sokka, and to be honest…….it terrified you. Your eyes drifted towards Katara and you ran over, crouching next to her.

“Katara, get up.” You urged. She continued to cry, standing slowly. You pulled her up and led her away to the water. “Put your hands in.” You instructed. She did, hesitantly. Just as you were about to stick your own hands in the water to heal her, hers started glowing. She furrowed her eyebrows and pulled them out, studying them with a confused expression. The red splotches were gone, and she was alright. “You have healing abilities.” You told her. She looked up at you.

“What?”

“Healing abilities. Using waterbending, you can heal most wounds….even some fatal ones.” You informed, a dark look in your eyes. “The great benders of the watertribe sometimes have this ability.” You informed.

“Do you have it?”

“Yes.” You answered shortly. Jeong Jeong then walked over, having heard the conversation.

“I’ve always wished I were blessed like you two. Free from this burning curse.” He said. It became quiet. You looked at Katara, a look of concern for the man on your face. She seemed to get the hint.

“But you’re a great master.” She told him, trying to lift his spirits. “You have powers we’ll never know.”

“Water brings healing and life.”

“Not always.” You mumbled, more to yourself than him, remembering Jet.

“But fire brings only destruction and pain.”

“And beauty.” You added.

“It forces those of us burdened with its care to walk an edge of humanity and savagery. Eventually, we’re torn apart.” He said. You frowned. Maybe he was right. As beautiful as fire was, it was also quite deadly and hard to control. All of the sudden, two fire blasts shot into the water before you, then one at you, Katara, and Jeong Jeong, who stood and blocked it. Three firenation ships were drifting down the river.

“Go get your friends and flee!” Jeong Jeong instructed. Katara hurriedly stood and quickly ran off, while you were slightly more hesitant. “Do not come back here, or you will all be destroyed!” He looked to you. “Hurry!”

You ran off, following Katara, slightly hesitant. You searched for the boys, eyes going this way and that. You saw a flash of blue next to Appa’s fur and ran over, Katara must have seen it too, because she was already there.

“Katara! Are you alright?” Sokka asked her.

“I’m fine.” She spoke calmly. “We’ve got to get out of here.” She informed, voice even. “Where’s Aang?”

Sokka jerked a thumb backward at the hut. Katara ran down the hill while you stood next to Sokka and watched. The taller male turned to you. “Did I miss something?”

“Katara has healing abilities, and we’re under attack.” You explained quickly. Sokka blinked at you. Your posture became slightly rigid. “What?” You asked.

“Nothing. Just wondering why you’re so calm if we’re UNDER ATTACK!”

You cringed at the volume. “Calm down, Sokka. We’re leaving as soon as-” You cut yourself off, seeing Aang run in the direction you and Katara had just fled from. “Oh, no.” You muttered, beginning to chase after him. “Why does he always do this?” You asked yourself. You almost ran out from behind a tree until you noticed Aang was dodging fire left and right. Zhao was fuming, continuing to shoot at the Avatar, but in the process, burning his own ships.

Aang was taunting him, and wouldn’t let up.

“You’ve lost this battle.” He told the Admiral.

“Are you crazy?! You haven’t thrown a single blow!”

“No. But you have.” Aang replied, gesturing at the burning ships. Zhao looked around, wide-eyed. “Jeong Jeong said you had no restraint.” Aang finished, leaping off the burning boat and into the water.

Zhao let out a yell of frustration, making the fire burn brighter and hotter.

“Have a nice walk home!” Aang shouted at him. You ran out from behind the tree, Appa landing next to you.

“Aang, come on! Let’s go!” Sokka called out. You climbed into the saddle, next to Katara and Sokka. Aang jumped up on Appa’s head, and the bison rose into the air.

“Where’s Jeong Jeong?” Aang asked.

“He disappeared. They all did.” Sokka answered, looking down at the ground below. You, Katara and Aang followed his lead and noticed that it was quiet. Everyone was, in fact, gone. As if they weren’t there in the first place.

You flew through the air for a while before Katara spoke.

“Aang, you’re burned.” She said. Aang looked down at his arm. “Let me help you.” She pulled water out of her canteen, and rested it on his arm, healing the burn. You sighed softly and leaned back, against the supplies, your head facing upwards.

“Wow. That’s good water.” Aang mused.

“When did you learn how to do that?” Sokka asked. “I mean, I’ve seen Y/n do it, but when did you learn?” You smiled slightly.

Katara shrugged. “I guess I always knew.”

“Oh. Well, then, thanks for all of the first aid over the years.” Sokka spoke sarcastically. (Say that five times fast.) “Like, when I fell into the grease-fire bramble. And the time I had two fishhooks in my thumb!”

“Two?” Aang questioned.

“He tried to get the first fishhook out with another fishhook.” Katara answered. You chuckled.

“Nailed it.” You muttered.

“Oh, and the time that mink-snake bit me. Thanks for healing that up. It was great. Really helpful.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes, welcoming the sleep that overcame you.

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

A/n: Repost!

#Avatar: The Last Airbender x reader #Avatar: The Last Airbender #A:TLA x reader #A:TLA #Avatar x reader #Avatar #x reader #reader #reader insert #Zuko x reader #My imagine #Mara's imagine #My works #Mara's works

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twimshi · 1 year

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PLATONIC REIGEN X READER

In which Reigen and YN make a bet

A snippet of chapter 5 of chilli flakes on AO3. The current chapter takes place in middle school

“No I don't get it, run me over your plan again"

“All...I'm saying h-hah god...is that we should participate in the twin bicycle competition f-for our hah school, I hate the stairs”

Reigen stared at her suspiciously “YN….you are literally out of breath as we speak.”

The school cultural festival was starting soon, everyone was getting ready to make their fair buck for their own booth. They had walked past the school bulletin board while taking out the trash and saw the sign.

Come all students, let's all participate in the once a year school canteen program !! where you show off your class’s hidden talents

You can sell food, open cafes, and many more (with terms and conditions)

YOU CAN ALSO COMPETE IN OUR ANNUAL WRITING/BAKING/COOKING COMPETITION THAT WILL BE HELD IN OUR SCHOOL’S AUDITORIUM

YN turned a blind eye while Reigen saw the reward.

Students can win prizes such as a

-10000YEN

-5000YEN

-Second-hand camera

He totally wanted one of them, Reigen grabbed one of the posters, ripping it from the school board. It might be vandalism, but nobody was there to see, so it's not technically vandalism.

Reigen then shook YN, who was beside him “YN LOOK!” He shoved the piece of paper in her face “I can't exactly see anything...IF YOU'RE SHOVING IT IN MY FACE” She comically yelled back, snatching the piece of paper “Okay...and?”

“Is that the only reaction you're gonna give me?” He said he wasn't getting a reaction, so he placed the paper in his hand pointing “Idiot, look at the prize.”

YN rolled her eyes before letting them wonder about the paper “So? Reigen Arataka, we need'th not spend our time on such childish activities” she gripped the paper and started glowing.

The school’s way of competition was super rigged, Komina participated in all three competitions which were not allowed but she did anyway. Every year, Komina (a mean girl) would win just because that's why YN was so hesitant in joining.

"You can do it, but I am not" She makes a serious face.

“C'mon YN doesn't give me that look, I know you want to participate” She giggled “Was my tsundere look that convincing?”

“Please, you couldn't even fool a fly” In reality, Reigen was totally not fooled by YN’s acting skills and did not in fact get worried.

YN and Reigen walked down the halls, skipping club activity to hide in a secluded part of the school where no teachers would walk since it was ‘haunted’ but the two teens lived for the unknown and just went along.

This was a routine for Reigen and YN, skip club, hang out, gossip about the art teacher and so on - they would smuggle PokeMob cards inside the sole of their shoes to get away with bringing what the school likes to call ‘contraband’

“Anyways….Are you serious about this?” YN quired taking a right “Yeah for sure, I was thinking you could participate in the pie-making comp-”

“Since when were you deciding my plans Arataka? We’re not even married yet”

“U’huh okay anyways, you always talked about how your grandma made pies, I thought we could y’know do that” They reached towards a door that was loose enough for them to squeeze their tiny bodies between

YN looks at him thoughtfully before replying “Well, I do…..but it's not that often..”

“I pay attention... when you ramble”

“Sap” Cute

“Shut up” He gently shoved YN and got their PokeMob cards ready to play.

YN pondered while shuffling her deck, if she were to participate in this competition she would have to ask her mother for money for the ingredients since she highly doubted the school could prepare jack shit for them.

“Hmm, I’ll think about it” She placed her fully evolved Magikarp down to eliminate Reigen's legendary “Pikachu'' card “You may win with luck my friend but…..never underestimate me at a card game.”

Reigen laid his head on the wall, hitting it in the process “Dangit! I thought I had this one” Every time they would play PokeMob YN had instantatioly won every game she played with Reigen, the game was more on intuition than luck - which normally would work in Reigen's favor, but sadly, YN was a God.

She grabbed a deck of cards, holding it as if she was a news reporter “Incoming news, REIGEN FUCKING SUCKS AND.I.RULE” She shoved all her glory in Reigens face, which to be fair was quite an amusing sight.

RING

“That's our queue to leave” They packed their belongings and made their way carefully towards to main school grounds, fortunately all the teachers were zombies t notice the teens make their way out of the closet together “I have made my decision Arataka” she stopped mid-walk that also made Reigen stop in his tracks.

“I’ll be participating in the pie competition~” She was going to do this for many reasons, to make her granny proud and…

“In return, if I do~”

“Huh, what do-” She shushed him with her finger “Shush dear boy, I mean if I win at least third you will be my wife” Reigen was in disbelief, he shook his head frantically “No no nope” He said, popping the ‘p’. He wasn't mad, just confused? “What do I even get out of this?” He wasn't mad, it was just confusion?

“Simple. If you win, then I’ll be your wife”

Reigen did not just blush, he was absolutely not embarrassed.

He was now shushing her “D-Don't say that type of things” God why was YN so shameless at times like this.

“Psh, c’mon Juliet~ I want to teach you something today, let's go” They walked out of school, Reigen knew YN didn't mean much from what she said, knowing the girl she could accidentally tell a student she had a pole and everyone would think she actually had POLIO which was completely off - but since some of her classmates would mishear her over the recess they thought otherwise and showed up to her table with flowers and goodbye cards. This may or may not have happened last month, they don't talk about it.

A small rustle and giggle could be heard from behind them, Reigen snapped his head left and right to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation, there was no one.

The duo set their way towards the local market before heading to their little spot, scanning the foods YN decides not to buy anything as Reigen buys his soft drink. Setting it on the counter he looks at the girl “You not buying anything YN?”

“..Nah, I wanna save it for another day” Reigen shrugged, a little suspicious of her action, he did know how to read people after all.

He grabbed a chocolate bar and placed it on the counter “Hey I'm not buying anything-”

“Uhuh, you say that now but come steal my food, don't worry about it. It's on sale anyways” YN looked slightly guilty but did not reject the offer.

They both skipped to the garden eating/drinking their snacks to only get stomach cramps on their sides “We should not have skipped-ow” YN clutched her stomach as Reigen and her limped their way to a dry flower patch to sit down

“Soo, what do you have in mind we do today?” YN reached to her pocket pulling out tomato seeds “Well, i thought maybe since I've been here for what 69 years we should-”

“YN that is not possible-”

“Shush boy, as I was saying. I always respected this place, watering the plant and stuff and maybe I want to leave my mark here. Hence, this” She waved the seeds in front of him

Reigen squinted his eyes “You want to plant a….what is that?”

YN called him over to the soil patch “Well these my friend, are daisies” Reigen let her continue “I heard that their super low maintenance and look” she pointed at the sidewalk of the entrance “They even grow on concrete”

“Why do you even have seeds in the first place?”

“Well for starters it's just the yellow part of the flower and I walk to school and collect them”

Reigen thinks, then replied shrugging his shoulders “Sounds weird but I guess that's nice, we ought to decorate this place with some of our things anyways”

“Woah daisies are pretty rough huh, the government should use them for war and….stuff” They both thought about bombing Komina’s house at that moment but didn't fancy the thought of cleaning up Komina’s body. Well YN thought that, not Reigen.

YN digs a small hole trying to loosen the soil a little, Reigen placing the seeds in before covering them in soil “I think that ought to do it” She says admiring her handicraft “Now we have to water it every dayyyyy”

“Dude we come here like...almost every day”

“True……” YN leaned on him with her dirty soil-filled hands “Then?”

He just looked away, his face scrunched up “Ugh, I didn't want to say this now but it's about my mom...” YN didn't move, still on him “Oh yes Mrs.Mom, what did she have to say? I hope I get more leftovers, my mom hasn't been cooking much lately”

A sigh left his mouth, it was dry despite him drinking only a minute ago “I don't...don't know if we can hang out after this month a lot…” YN got up “If you want space I totally don't-”

“No! That's not it...It's…..It's about me and you changing…. OH yea I don't wanna miss watching adventure mob, yea adventure mob, we won't be able to record it” It was a lie but he couldn't tell her, not yet - another time, not when their friendship is on the line

YN sighed in relief. She knew he might be hiding something, but maybe he wasn't. She was being a little too paranoid. Slapping Reigen in the back, she laughed “Phew dude, you scared me for a second, getting all serious and stuff”

He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding like a choking cat “H-hehe, totally..” Changing the topic he chirps in “So you're participating in the pie competition?”

“Oh yeah, I am. You're doing the essay one, right?”

The knots in his stomach grew “Yup, I'm a little worried”

“Why? You're on top of the class for your amazing essays, I'm sure you can write an amazing story or something”

The way she worded it seemed so easy. “Yeah but….what if..”

What if he couldn't do it? What if he just made a fool of himself? What if-

She stroked his hair gently, pulling him out of his thoughts “Hey ‘Taka, if anyone were to win that competition and make me their wife, I'm sure it's you”

The way she so shamelessly said it made Reigen not react, he was going to make her proud.

He leaned into her touch, taking a deep breath while taking her hand in his, shaking in an awkward position with a smile.

“May the best wife win”

[Hope you guys enjoy this!! Tiny reigen and YN bring me so much joy I can't even explain it, and yes platonic is like the best way to go with these cuties]

#reigen x reader #reigen arataka #reigen arataka x reader #mob psycho reigen #platonic actually #get pranked

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firekeeper--lula · 2 years

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The collar was still around her neck, though she was not quite the same anymore. Since she first woke up in this world, she had been trapped, misunderstood, taken advantage of. Tallulah had learned to suppress these feelings, mostly with the help of her therapist. But today was different. She broke free.

It was difficult to understand for the elemental, though this was not an unfamiliar feeling. At first, it had been a mere urge to run away from the festivities, and the crowd. And as she ran, she felt the energy within her. She had been drawn to the fire, as always, had ripped free her bandages, had ultimately consumed the flames. So intoxicating… It had been so long that Lula forgot how good it felt to be powerful. The fire warmed her from the inside. Her abilities were rusty at first, though she could hardly forget her nature. And soon enough, the world around her stood in flames too. There was a tree on fire, and a small shed. She kept herself entertained with setting things aflame, then extinguishing it; to smell the ash, to see her work – all because she could. But she wasn’t the only one to escape the party. “Stand back!”, the elemental shouted as she noticed someone approaching. Nobody can take this from me now! Her hands were spread in front of and smoke was still rising from the openings on her palms. Her dress was torn, her hair slightly charred, but she was ready to attack in case the other came too close too fast. Even so, there was an urge to do so regardless of the outcome.

@the-institute-starters

#theinstitutestarter #theinstituteevent

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astaldis · 7 months

Text

No. 8 - Outnumbered

@whumptober-archive

Fandom: The Witcher

Whumpee: Reader/You, Cahir

Chapters: 1/2 Words: 1,715

Summary: You made a stupid bet. Fortunately somebody arrives just in time to safe your arse from the shadows stalking you. A Witcher, exactly who you need.

Shadows in the Dark - Chapter 1

The shadow. There it is again. Fuck! You thought you had lost it after running from the accursed property as fast as your legs could carry you. Now your lungs are burning and your heart is pounding in your ears like it is ready to explode any second. You are so exhausted, you are ready to drop on the spot. But you cannot stop running or it will catch up with you. The nameless, shapeless horror. This eery black thing that has been stalking you all the way from the old, abandoned mansion. How you wish the night was already over, that the first rays of morning sunlight would make the shadow disappear, but it is not long past midnight yet. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Will you still be alive by the end of the night, or is the shadow going to get you? Will you die here, just because of this stupid, stupid bet?

You should have known from the start that it was a bad idea, a very bad one. How could you be so foolish? Well, you need the money, that's for sure. But no amount of money in the world is worth dying for. There is still so much you want to see, to do. You have no way lived long enough to end up eaten by a ghoul or ripped apart by a demon or whatever this shadowy monster is. At first you thought it was just a trick of the moon light or a figment of your imagination. However, you feel it in your heart that it is real, that it is coming for you. So you run on along the lonely path through the woods, the black blossom you picked from the overgrown rose garden in front of the mansion all but forgotten in your hand. The token of your bravery, and of your foolishness. But who could have anticipated that the old wives' tales about the haunted mansion in the forest are true? Nobody in their right mind could seriously believe their stories about the monsters dwelling there, the shadows that would come alive every full moon night to have a jamboree and feast on the blood of innocent virgins. Well, the part about the big party is not true, you can tell them that if you get out of here alive. There was nothing there to indicate any festivities going on on the neglected property. And you are not a virgin, no. Unfortunately, the shadow does not seem to be bothered by that little detail.

You throw another quick backwards glance across your shoulder. Gods, there, between the trees. Another one! In the silvery light of the full moon, you can see the two flitting from one tree trunk to the next, coming closer and closer. What will they do when they finally catch up with you? Freeze your heart? Suck you dry? Devour you in one big gulp, clothes, shoes, hair and all? Or will you simply go crazy from fear and rip your own arteries out with your teeth? You shudder at the thought. No, you do not want to die tonight.

Please! Gods! Help! Your screams echo through the silence of the forest. Why is there nobody to help you?

Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50457418

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earthstellar · 2 years

Photo

oh god I’ve been so so busy lately, I promise I have some long posts in the works to post soon because I will never run out of Transformers analyses lmaooo

in the meantime, here’s me testing out more design apps on my phone lol but of course I had a whole idea about this so here you go y’all:

I like to think that early in Megatron’s efforts to organise his fellow workers and encourage those around him to explore subjects and areas that were believed to be off limits or impossible for them, he likely tried to set up small events for his fellow miners and any other industrial workers on site

and because this is early days Megatron lol, 99% of these sort of fell flat, others weren’t quite as willing to listen to him yet, he wasn’t making these grand speeches after gladiatorial victories etc.

so I imagine him creating like a handful of basic posters for events, which at the time, almost nobody attends

but then once he DOES get popular, and that popularity starts to build and gain real traction and people start to read his work and actually engage with what he’s trying to achieve

suddenly these little events with the university student style after class club sort of vibe start getting more attendees and bots from other nearby worksites start showing up

and eventually, as one of the first major Decepticon events, it’s not a protest or a street rally or anything like that

but it’s one of Megatron’s very first ideas, a literary event designed for lower class/lower caste bots who would never otherwise have the opportunity or support or encouragement to write or attempt to express themselves in a more public way

and so once he gets enough social capital that he can get more help sorting out his literary festival, and once Kaon essentially becomes Decepticon territory with increasingly little outside influence from Iacon / the Council as they start to lose control of the lower classes,

finally, in that sweet brief timeframe after his rise to cultural power but before his ideals became derailed and he lost his way,

he got his dream:

a simple concept, the very first literary event on Cybertron purely for lower class/caste bots of all designations or industries, is arranged at a larger scale than he ever imagined possible

the poster is the same basic one he created in five minutes on a datapad given to him by Terminus so long ago

and instead of a handful of flyers stuck on ragged mine walls, where they inevitably got ripped down or fell anyway as the wall behind it was drilled through or shaken apart during a day’s work

suddenly every street in Kaon is covered in posters and banners encouraging writing submissions from anyone and everyone, no cost, no fee, no requirements other than wanting to speak on the common struggle

and every worker’s canteen is hosting small stages for local poets or performers to test out their writing or material and tables are being set up down the pavement to provide free zines

pamphlets in multiple forms of Cybertronian alongside literacy software patches are distributed, to increase the accessibility and understanding of words and expression to as many bots as possible

books are being printed in the millions to distribute across Kaon and beyond, the words of the workers will reach the hands of anyone and everyone, even through the sheer force of volume, the amount of people speaking up for the very first time has fostered the hope and desire to change conditions for the better and let all of Cybertron know:

that in every worker, in every living bot, in every single spark, there is a collection of experiences and feelings and memories and thoughts that are deserving of expression

and they will be listened to en masse, because you cannot ignore the entire industrial region of your planet purposefully grinding to a halt in order to perform poetry, ash and dirt covered servos gripping cracked data pads and with a shaking vocaliser, they speak the truth one after another

and suddenly those shaking vocalisers are no longer shaking as their words are met by the cheers of thousands

no longer afraid of the heavy hand of the Council, the festival goes on interrupted, the other city-state polities of Cybertron watching underground broadcasts on secure channels across the planet

and it is the first indicator, the first time the rest of the planet truly understands the scale and nature of class struggle on Cybertron

the Council frantically tries to shut these broadcasts down, but fails, as the communications infrastructure was almost entirely manufactured in Kaon or Tarn, and as a result, the workers are able to use their superior knowledge of these systems and equipment to thwart any censorship efforts

all at once, the working classes achieve even greater solidarity, there is a near-tangible hope for the future, growing belief that the Council can be overthrown and the people can build a better society, a better world, where nobody lives three million years to die in a collapsed adit without ever having seen Cybertron’s moons as they rise along the curvature of the planetary atmosphere

all at once, Cybertron as a whole begins to listen, even if purely out of shock, to the voices of the oppressed many-- and sympathisers begin to reconsider a great many things, questions are finally starting to be asked by those who may have greater ability to affect or influence more direct change in other polities or regions or branches of Consular government

all at once, Megatron sees his ideals coming to fruition

and without any knowledge of what the future holds

he finishes his speech, to overwhelming applause

and looking to where Terminus should be seated

where he would be seated if the world had been kind

the glory of the festival is inevitably still tainted by a sense of pervasive bitterness and loss

and while he remains present, engaged in the words of his people, the new collective class, the “Decepticons”

he hopes, silently to himself, that Terminus would be proud, that Terminus would approve, that he is doing right in spearheading what has potential to become real, tangible change for the better

and he watches the next bot take the stage, a small electrical substation worker who has written a piece on “shared electricity”, the connection between Cybertronians and the electrical impulses that keep their planet thriving, how they are one, how every alloy of a bot’s frame was forged from raw elements and materials and how life is inseparable, it is universal, we are all Of Primus

and it is wonderful, evocative, creative, a work of art

all the things the Council has said they cannot be and cannot do

and with that heavy burning sensation in his spark

he, and thousands of others, rise to applaud the author, to applaud creation and expression as acts of direct defiance, as acts of compassion for one another, as actions being taken to create a better Cybertron, finally, the crowd itself embodies a wave of revolutionary thought and progress

and pushing his better judgement aside, sitting down as the next speaker approaches, he decides not to investigate that pang of heaviness behind his chestplate

where it will fester for centuries, where it will corrupt and distort the beauty of his ideals

instead, out of fear that this will somehow instantly fade, fear that the Council will find him again underground in the night and he will awaken to the sensation of thin metal dragging softly against his helm as Terminus coughs and sputters behind him and fear becomes overwhelming, doubt becomes pervasive

it is not a battle that starts the path to eventual despotism

but rather

it is at the first literary festival of Kaon

that fear becomes fuelled into furious righteousness

as he comes to understand that hope is a fragile thing

and if Terminus were here

he would explore, he would ask, he would risk feeling

but Terminus is not here

and for now

Cybertron is still unkind

and his people are still vulnerable

and every night is still uncertain

and he would do anything

anything

for nobody to feel the fear and loss

that he feels

ever again

and it is not hatred

or rage

but fear

which brings Megatron to rise

and to close the festival

he recites from Towards Peace

and the applause is so great that it vibrates his massive frame

as it shakes loose the last of his self-imposed restrictions

as his thoughts are drowned out

by cheers and shouts calling for the change that must now happen

before it is all taken away

it is in this moment

not in a gladiatorial competition or a battle field

where even though he speaks of a better future

his spark is frozen in time

long ago, back in the mine

where all he can think of

over the raucous noise

is how Terminus should be here

and isn’t.

#long post #writing #megatron #idw 1 #idw transformers #d16 #idw megatron #mtmte #lost light

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tobesobri · 3 years

Text

Traditions | 17.3k

a/n: it's been a while since I uploaded writing and for some reason I decided to sign up for this challenge and by some miracle actually managed to write something for it 🤯anyways, this is for the Valentine's Day Challenge by @1dffchallenges and it's honestly just a bit of fun, enemies to lovers little bit of angst and some smut! so i hope you enjoy! I'd always love to know your thoughts!! (also pls excuse any errors, I wrote this in a week with little editing lol)

prompt: doube date

dialogue: “So let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date for a Valentine’s Day Party?”

Pink and red were speckled throughout the entire office, whether it was a bouquet of chocolate roses, a banner of hearts, or stuffed bears residing next to bowls full of heart-shaped candies. Every employee’s section of the office had been filled to the brim with decorations as well. Pink and red ribbon taped carefully around the edges of their desktop computer, little store-bought balloons, also heart-shaped, grouped together and tied to desk chairs.

And Y/N, dressed in her typical all black outfit, rolled her eyes as she paced through the office toward the one section in the back that was immune to all things heart-shaped, pink, or stuffed.

She sat down at her desk with a loud sigh, her purse hitting the floor in its usual spot just before she slipped out of her jacket and draped it haphazardly between her back and the chair. It’d be wrinkled by the end of the day, but she didn’t care all that much, nor did she put much thought into the stains on her purse from leaving it on the floor. All she concerned herself with, after settling in, was getting straight to work… which was put on hiatus when she came face-to-face with both a pink and heart-shaped sticky note plastered onto the center of her computer screen.

Groaning, she ripped it off and moved to turn her computer on before she bothered to read whatever was written on the note. She considered three potential suspects while she pulled her keyboard down onto her desk and logged in. There was Kayla, who worked front reception and was one of the main culprits of all the Valentine’s decorations. A strong contender. It could’ve also been Ines or Carmen, her closest work friends whom Y/N knew both owned a pad of pink, heart-shaped sticky notes.

However, when she finally let her eyes fall to the note as her computer loaded up, the handwriting didn’t match any of the women she knew, and she was quite positive that none of them would have written was was sprawled out in black ink either.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I will fill your office with teddy bears and balloons, if you don’t send me your half of the proposal by two.

Harry.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin under her desk. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Sure, she was nearly done with her portion of the work and would be able to send it to him before then, but now that he’d pestered her about it, he’d be lucky if she even bothered to send it to him at all.

She didn’t doubt the promise, i.e. threat, he made on the note, but being surrounded by teddy bears and balloons would be worth making Harry’s life just a tad miserable.

After opening all the apps she’d need to get her work done, namely Photoshop and Illustrator, she connected her drawing tablet and set up the rest of her work station for the day, both on screen and off.

Harry had worked at the company for about two years longer than her and she’d started off as an intern while she was still in college and, after graduating, was hired as a permanent graphic designer. They had never really gotten along ever since Harry—jokingly—asked her to get him a coffee once… or twice. Unfortunately for her, though, they ended up working well together and their boss had stuck them both on the same projects ever since. Especially after the month-long project last spring that had been their most successful one to date.

While she came up with the design parts of client projects, Harry handled the more technical side of things and they’d never really argued much over each other’s work even though they clashed constantly at a more personal level.

“I see your feeling festive.” Just as she’d gotten into the groove of her typical morning and had forgotten all about Harry’s stupid note, his voice interrupted her entire thought process. So when she swiveled around to find him leaning into her little office space, it was hardly a surprise when she glared at him, even though he feigned offense at her bitterness.

“You got my note, I presume.” He let himself into her space anyway, holding a mug of steaming coffee she was sure he’d just made in the workroom, and leaned up against the opposite side of her desk that housed a much larger, digital drawing tablet for when she needed to do more intricate design pieces.

She just swiveled back around to face her computer again and went back to work as if he was no longer there. Pretending to ignore his existence proved to be quite difficult when the very particular woodsy, vanilla scents of his cologne met her nostrils and filled her entire office. Not to mention, the sight of what he’d been wearing singed the backs of her eyelids so that she still saw him every time she blinked. It was as if her brain refused to let her forget what he looked like in his white button-up, sleeves rolled to the crooks of his elbows, all tucked into his fitted black trousers that tended to get the imaginations going of all the women in the building.

Not her though, of course. She was better than that. Obviously.

He cleared his throat, still very much present in her space and still very much giving her a migraine. “So will it be ready by two?”

“Well, I planned to send it to you before lunch.” She tweaked the spacing between letters of a potential logo for the millionth time. “But now… I think I might need the rest of the day.”

She heard rustling behind her and knew he was shifting his weight impatiently and running a hand through his hair as he often did when he was… displeased. “I told you I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need it no later than two.”

She cocked her head to the side, still staring at her computer screen and not giving him an ounce of satisfaction. “Did you tell me that?” She teased, an amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth when she heard him groan behind her. “I must’ve forgotten.” Shrugging, she went back to her work.

“Unlike you,” he snapped, “some of us actually have a love life and I’d appreciate you not fucking up mine.”

She froze then, only for a split second, when his words sank in. Two thoughts raced through her head. The first a string of curse words because of his assumption that she didn’t have a love life. But the more prominent and worrisome part of his statement was that he did have one. And that he was leaving early tomorrow—Valentine’s Day—so he could get ready for a date.

Throwing both her prickly exterior and heartbreaking smirk up again, she turned to face him. “I’ve known you for three years now and if anyone has the potential to fuck up your love life, it’s you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and her gaze fell to the hand that seemed to wrap a bit tighter around his Bugs Bunny mug. His knuckles whitened and she met his heated stare again, pleased with herself for getting him riled up before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

“So,” she continued before he get get a word of retaliation out, and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs confidently as she folded her hands in her lap. “Who’s the poor girl you’ve tricked into going on a date with you this time?”

Harry had a terrible track record. The longest relationship he’d been in lasted for two months, and that was well before she’d known him. Everything else he had was just a one or two night thing and nothing more. Sure, it was all more than she had, but she preferred it that way. Harry seemed to resent the fact that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

“You don’t know her.”

Her smile widened. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Ooh, that just might be your second longest relationship, Styles.”

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

His jab didn’t have an affect on her however, and he knew it wouldn’t because it never did. He knew she didn’t give a damn about relationships, or at least that’s what she claimed anyway. He couldn’t think of many twenty-four year old women who actually wanted to be alone. He actually couldn’t think of a mid-twenties anyone who wanted that.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She said nonchalantly, which irked him even more than he already was, and then swiveled away from him one last time, picking up her drawing pen and getting back to work.

“What’s your issue with relationships?” He went on and she knew he was headed right down a path intended to hurt her feelings just as much as she had his. So, she tensed slightly and braced for impact. “Is it a commitment thing? Or can you just not find anyone to put up with you for longer than five minutes?”

She let his words sink their teeth in and then smiled to herself. “Hm. Seeing as you’ve been in my office now for,” she checked the time at the top right-hand corner of her screen, “eight minutes, maybe we should date.” She lifted a brow, awaiting his next response.

It felt a bit like a cat-and-mouse chase bickering with Harry and since she was usually the cat, it brought her way too much pleasure fighting with him.

He scoffed. “Like I’d lower my standards for you.”

That one hurt, she had to admit. Not out loud or to Harry, but it still stung because it was true. He’d have to drop his standards to the floor to even consider dating her and she knew it.

“Maybe,” she began, still half focused on her work, and ignored his comment all together, “some of us like being alone.”

“Nobody likes that.” He responded quickly and she heard a shift of his weight again and then his voice once more a few moments later. “It’s nice to be by yourself sometimes, yeah, but you can’t tell me you don’t want someone to come home to at the end of the day.” He crossed one leg over the other as he gripped the edge of her desk for support and just when she thought he was done, he kept going, “Someone you can vent to about your annoying co-worker.”

She glanced at him through the little portable mirror hanging above her desk—mostly used to make sure she looked decent before meeting with clients or, sometimes, Harry—and saw the tight smile on his lips. Almost as if that’s what he wanted, like he was talking about himself and not her.

She’d slowed her progress down while he’d talked until she was no longer working at all. She no longer swiped her pen across the pad or had any idea what she was even doing when she focused solely on his words. Because, once again, whether he was talking about himself or about her, he was right.

“Yeah well,” she quickly hid herself back behind her wall and made her hands function properly again. “Some of us also don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.”

She imagined him smirking at that one because, buried deep within her words was a compliment. That he was handsome enough to actually have anyone he wanted.

Instead, when she glanced at the mirror again and found him, there was the complete opposite of a smirk on his face, and as he stared down into his mug, clearly lost in thought, she wondered what the tightness in his jaw and the frown pulling on his lips meant.

She sighed and stole his attention away from his coffee. “I’ll have it to you before lunch. You can go now, unless you’d like to argue some more and slow me down by another…” she glanced at her clock again, adding up all the time he’d been standing in her office, “fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, she listened to the drag of his footsteps as he finally left her office space. And although she was glad to be rid of his distraction, the room felt so much bigger and so much colder and emptier without him in it. Shivering, she slipped back into her jacket and spent the next few hours doing nothing but staring straight ahead at her screen as she made final adjustments to her designs.

Any other conversations with Harry were had over email as he worked in his own respective office, messaging her with every little concern he had in order to get his work done efficiently so that he wasn’t stressing to finish it tomorrow before he had to leave. Even though Y/N considered not responding to him a few times, just to spite him and slow him down for her own amusement, she found herself feeling guilty after leaving him hanging a couple times. Sure, she hated Valentine’s Day and everything surrounding it, but she’d almost hate even more the idea of both her and Harry being miserable tomorrow, so she inevitably gave in and cooperated with him. She’d probably regret it when he came back on Thursday spreading around the office all the gory details of his date, but at least he wouldn’t also be in a shitty mood. Her days were both boring and slow whenever Harry wasn’t having a good day. And although she’d blame it all on selfish reasons, it did also make her sad to see him frowning around the office and sulking when all she wanted to do was bicker with him and make him smile again, even just a little bit. But it was easier leaving him to his own devices than risk him finding out she cared about him enough to not wish sadness upon him.

She couldn’t say the same for him. Harry probably relished in the days she came into the office in a sour mood. He probably celebrated and threw a party whenever she was upset, and, even so, it didn’t change how she felt about him.

The sun had long set and most of the office was gone by the time she finally called it quits and began packing up her things and giving her computer a rest for the night. There were still quiet murmurs from other workaholic employees, which comforting her knowing she wasn’t completely alone in the building, since the last time she’d done that, it took everything in her not to have a panic attack all the way to her car.

Even though her boss told her countless times not to stay past five o’clock, as he told every other female employee that worked for him that he didn’t wish to see attacked after sunset in the city. Of course, when she was the only one who didn’t listen to him, he hired more guards and one of them rounded the corner into her office space, ready to escort her all the way down to her car.

“Figured you were still here.” He leaned against the walls of her cubicle and watched as she startled, twisting to meet his eyes for a moment before she settled and returned to slipping her belongings into her purse.

“I don’t need you to escort me.” Zipping her purse, she rose from her chair, checking one last time across her desk to make sure she’d grabbed everything she needed to take home with her before turning to him as he still lingered in the opening of her little office.

William had been hired a couple months ago, and was only a year older than her, but even so he was more than a foot taller than her and his biceps were about as big as her head. While the entire office drooled over him, she tended to keep her eyes and her thoughts to herself.

“You say that every night you stay late. Just let me do my job and shut up about it.” He smirked at her and when her eyes met his again, sharply, glaring at him, she groaned and whirled past him toward the elevators. He followed swiftly behind, knowing she’d close the doors on him if he didn’t keep close enough pace with her, mostly because she’d done it before.

As he took his spot beside her and she pressed the button for the parking garage at the basement of the building, a familiar voice rang out through the office.

“Wait!” As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough with William’s presence, his stupidly large arm held the elevator doors open as Harry slipped inside a moment later.

“Thanks, mate.” Harry said exclusively to William as he caught his breath and stood wedged in the middle between the guard and Y/N, who was inching closer and closer into her corner to get away from Harry.

“You have any plans tomorrow?” Harry asked, his attention solely on William again while the elevator took off down through the levels of their building. Not fast enough for Y/N, of course.

William sighed, crossing his arms and trying to resist smiling. “Me and my girlfriend take turns surprising each other every year. And it’s her turn this year… so I guess I have plans, but I don’t know what they are.”

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

Y/N whirled her head to glare up at the side of Harry’s face. “Speak for yourself.” She warned.

Harry just ignored her though. “What did you guys do last year?”

Again, William stifled a grin. “I had been saving up for a while and took us both to Paris.”

“Shit.” Harry’s eyebrows rose and Y/N rolled her eyes away from him, watching the LED screen above the elevator doors as they neared the bottom levels of the building. She knew Harry and William had become friends, mostly because Harry was annoying and befriended everyone. Except her, of course. She heard his stupid voice again and wished she could just transport herself directly into the front seat of her car and be done with the both of them. “And now she has to do better than Paris.”

Y/N glanced around Harry just in time to see William smirk and she should have known what was about to come out of his mouth before it did. “Well, I don’t consider much better than her mouth ar—“

Y/N cut him off. “Ew! Are you serious?”

Both men eyed her curiously just as the elevator came to a stop and, with a ding, the doors opened. She flew toward them quickly.

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

Again, she cut him off, turning once she was out on solid ground. “I’ll be fine, besides trying to rid my mind of that image you just burned into it.” She turned on her heel and headed off toward her car.

William made a move toward her and Harry grabbed his arm, “I’ll walk her. Forgot she’s a bit of a prude.” They shared an amused look and Harry jogged out onto the concrete and asphalt until he reached her side.

“I heard that, you know… and I know for a fact your car is not parked in this direction.” She seethed and he just smiled to himself, happier than ever that she was in the mood to bicker with him, because he wasn’t quite in the mood to leave yet, where he’d have to wait till tomorrow morning at nine-thirty to see her again. And she wasn’t always the most talkative person on Valentine’s Day, either.

“Why are you the only female in our building not foaming at the mouth over him?” He asked instead, referring to William.

He heard her scoff. “Just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean I have to be interested… or want to hear about his girlfriend sucking his—“

“Cock?” Harry finished for her and within a second she spun around to face him, forcing him to stop in his tracks just inches from her now. His smirk only grew when he saw just how quickly he’d gotten her all flustered.

And then, as they started each other down, the hardness in her face softened and she drew out a breath, forcing his eyes to fall to her lips and his smirk to fall from his mouth. He thought back to last spring, when there were numerous late nights with her just like this one. When he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked and he blinked a couple times before he lifted his eyes.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brows, trying to track down all the resentment he had for her but he couldn’t find it anywhere anymore. He couldn’t summon it and say something that would save his ass from being caught looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.

Like he wanted to taste her and feel her against him, and hear what she sounded like when he tugged at her hair for more.

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, silencing the chaos going on in his brain. And then she turned, continuing the walk to her car with or without him, but, when she heard the echoing click of his shoes against the asphalt once more, she knew she wasn’t rid of him yet.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to my car, will you?” He easily stepped back into place beside her like nothing had happened.

She didn’t say anything for much longer than he was comfortable with. And then, finally, they reached her car and she sighed. “Get in before I change my mind.”

As she went for the driver’s side, he took quick steps to the opposite side, watching her over the top of her little Honda as she unlocked her door, and then, after clicking the button, his door as well. They both slipped in at the same time and while she fastened her seatbelt and settled in for her drive home, he sat perched with his backpack in his lap, knowing he’d be out of her car within only a couple minutes.

He still glanced around at his surroundings as she backed out of her parking space. “Should’ve guessed your car would be as neat as your desk.”

She didn’t say anything as she drove in the opposite direction of the exit toward the section of the garage Harry always parked in. It was closer to the elevators because he always came in before her and snagged a prime spot. She preferred an extra few minutes of sleep over walking an extra fifty steps.

And he started up again when she continued to not talk to him. “Most artists I know of are super messy.”

“I’m not an artist.” She gritted out through her teeth as she came to a stop once she spotted the rear-end of Harry’s BMW. Although she knew it well enough to distinguish it from the other black BMWs in the garage, it also helped that Harry had an old, faded license plate cover filled with a collage of cute pictures of puppies. He’d said it won him bonus points with women, but she also knew his screensaver at work was a picture of puppies as well, and no women he was interested in ever saw that.

He peeled his eyes off his car and looked over at her. “I know you can draw, too.”

She paused, gripping her steering wheel. She did enjoy both art and design and she knew Harry knew the difference between the two. She just didn’t know why he always insisted on bugging her about it.

“Yeah, well that doesn’t make me an artist.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him just in time to find him shrugging a shoulder like he was agreeing to disagree. Even if she couldn’t draw, he’d still consider her an artist because the things she managed to design always blew his mind and if that wasn’t art…

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to drag you?”

He grinned, and it was almost as if her eyes refused to see anything else but his dimples and the bright whites of his teeth, and the birthmark to the side of his mouth…

“I’m going.” He assured, and yet he still hadn’t moved an inch. “Even though I’d love to see you try to drag me.” With her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, he chuckled and unzipped the small pocket on the front of his backpack, withdrawing his keys as he finally swung her door open.

Once he was out, he gripped the top of the door and leaned back in to find her staring straight ahead. “Drive carefully, yeah? Would be quite tragic for your bitter ass to die on Valentine’s Day.”

She reached over and, despite having to brush her knuckles along the side of his thigh, grabbed the handle of the passenger door and yanked. His body remained in her way, however, and he was unfortunately a lot stronger than her.

Then she finally looked up at him, and those thoughts he had earlier surfaced again as much as he’d tried to bury them. This time though, he didn’t fight it as he glanced at her lips once more, then back at her eyes, which had widened slightly just before the dimples reappeared in his cheeks. “And I guess I would miss bickering with you every day.”

With that, he was gone and she retreated back to her seat as he shut the door for her. She had no idea what to think about what had just happened. Why he’d looked at her like that again. What that look even meant.

By the time she reached the freeway, she’d convinced herself she was just seeing things. Harry wasn’t looking at her in any other way he had before when he was intent on pestering her. But, as she took in the scent of him still lingering in the cabin, she allowed a small part of her to hope she was wrong.

Her eyes fell on the man down the hall from her door as she slipped her key into the lock, her brows furrowing as she watched him. It wasn’t unusual for their paths to cross, as they tended to get home around the same time, but it was quite odd to see him sitting on the floor outside his apartment, his head in his hands.

They’d said hi to each other a couple times in the mailroom, but she definitely didn’t know him well enough to go up and ask what his issue was or try to fix it for him. And after it was confirmed that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his keys, as they sat beside him on the floor along with his phone, she figured it best to leave him be.

Turning her key, she pulled her gaze from him and disappeared from the hallway.

The second she was inside her apartment, she felt all the weight lift right off her shoulders, especially when her cat came racing up, screaming at her from the floor while also coaxing her toward the kitchen to fill the food bowl. Whatever was going on with her neighbor still very much on her mind, she tried to focus instead on relaxing and getting both her and the screaming Pretzel some dinner.

She tried to remember his name as she heated up leftover pasta. She knew it started with an A, but her brain was coming up short. So, while Pretzel crunched on his food in his corner of the kitchen, she tried her hardest to remember.

And it was no question why she cared so much. Her neighbor was someone she was actually interested in, and she had been since she first saw him. Of course, she was never foolish enough to think he was into her, but she still let herself fantasize. He was tall, nearly black curly hair atop his head always in a state of disarray, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen hidden behind his glasses. And, if she was being honest with herself, he was just a darker-haired version of Harry. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

The beeping of her microwave tore her thoughts from the dangerous path they’d been headed down. Harry’s voice rang in her head a moment later.

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

She’d needed to hear him say that, because sometimes her thoughts got carried away when it came to Harry and sometimes she did let herself be a fool who hoped. But after he’d said that one damning phrase, it was enough for her to stop. She didn’t meet a single one of his standards, inside or out.

Still, she tried her hardest not to go back out into the hall and make sure her neighbor was alright. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and it wasn’t like she was doing anything important. Even if she didn’t have a dumb crush on him, as she did Harry, she still didn’t enjoy seeing him in the state he’d been in.

Before she could work up the nerve, however, a knock sounded through her quiet apartment.

She held her breath as she opened her door, really hoping it wasn’t the boy from across the hall, since she was still blanking on his name, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else knocking on her door this late into the evening.

So when she inevitably found him there, looking down at her through his annoyingly long lashes as she took in the horrible state he was in—red, inflamed eyes and hair that needed to see a brush rather than his hand—she completely lost her breath instead.

“Uh, sorry, I… saw you come in and I know we don’t talk and this is a weird thing for me to ask but…” He ran said hand through said messy hair and she found her breath again while looking up at him like she’d do whatever he’d asked just so he’d stop frowning.

He sighed, glancing down the hall toward his apartment and then met her curious and somewhat concerned gaze. “Can I come in?”

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

“Well, um, I was hoping you could help me with something and I’d rather not have the entire floor know about it.”

She was beyond confused now, but still, she stepped aside and let him pass, assuming that if he was actually a murderer he would have done her in a lot sooner than this. He had plenty of other opportunities. Plus, something in his face just… made her want to trust him.

She closed the door and turned to him, watching as his eyes scanned her kitchen and where her food still sat before he twisted around, eyes wide. “Shit, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” And after clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you, um… what do you need help with?”

He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple budge in his throat. “I don’t imagine you’ll like me very much after I ask but… I need a date.”

“What?” Again, she nearly flew out of her skin.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers, gauging her reactions and very obviously on the verge of seeing himself out and pretending this never happened. Instead, he stuffed away his pride and went on. “My ex… she, uh… well we broke up a few months ago and I saw her the other day and she’s seeing someone and we were talking and I… told her I was seeing someone too and so she invited me to go on this stupid double date with her… but the thing is… I’m not actually seeing anyone and I just told her that so she’d be jealous but she didn’t seem jealous at all and I don’t exactly have many friends to ask for help and I saw you and…” He rambled, but she managed to understand his predicament just fine.

“A double date? With your ex?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either. She’s… she does weird shit but… I still want her back.”

Y/N’s heart ached in her chest. As much as she detested relationships, she was a sucker for other people’s relationships and she was definitely a sucker for her beautiful neighbor, even if he was asking to use her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

“Not that I’m saying yes but… when? And where?” She finally asked after thinking things over for a moment.

“Tomorrow night… I can pay you. I will pay you, I mean… but, seriously, you don’t have to do it I just thought I would ask.”

“Where is this date at?” She repeated when he didn’t answer that part of her question.

“At this party… and bef—“

She cut him off. “Okay so let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date to a Valentine’s Day party?”

He lifted a brow, “Well, there’s more… she wants to get dinner before going to the party.”

She shook her head, looking away, “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day…”

“You wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll pay for your dinner, too. Whatever you want. I just… really need your help and you’re my only option.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize I’m not exactly…” she waved at her face and his eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “I’m not easy on the eyes and I don’t think taking me will make anyone jealous.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her incredulously. She shifted her weight nervously and he finally opened his mouth. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Her features scrunched up and she kept her eyes planted on the middle of his chest. And then he realized that she, in fact, did.

“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” He also realized that using her to make his ex jealous would possibly hurt her more than it would help him and he could no longer fathom putting her through that. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry.” He moved to walk past her, back to his apartment but she stopped him before he got far.

“No… I’ll help you.” And then she realized his identity was still somewhat of a mystery to her. “This sounds even worse than what you just asked me to do, but… I completely forgot your name.”

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.”

He smiled wider and nodded. “I know.” And then his face grew sad again. “I am really sorry I’m asking you to do this on Valentine’s Day, it’s definitely not my proudest moment.”

She waved him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Just tell me what you need me to do.” She didn’t bother brining up the whole payment thing. She didn’t really care about being paid. He was nice, the only nice person she’d encountered in her apartment building and if getting him back together with his ex meant she’d never have to come home and see him in the fetal position on the floor again, she’d suffer through a date and a party on her least favorite holiday.

It was somehow even worse than it’d been yesterday. The decorations seemed to triple in size. Not an inch of the office was untouched by something pink and she prayed whoever had put up even more decorations had spared her little cubicle.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” One of the receptionists most responsible for the overflowing decor, Kayla, called her over to her desk not even a minute after Y/N had arrived. And she stalked over until she saw the package Kayla pulled out that instantly lifted her spirits.

She stopped in front of Kayla’s desk and took the thin box from from her, already knowing what it was and thanking god for the timing so that her entire day wasn’t completely miserable. It was a new drawing pad she’d ordered, a bigger one that she hoped would be a bit more efficient to use than her current one.

Even with her back turned to the rest of the office, she sensed Harry’s presence long before he stopped beside her with his mug in hand.

He lifted a brow at the package in Y/N’s hands just as she reluctantly turned to look at him. “Getting gifts sent to the office? That’s a first.”

She rolled her eyes and stuffed the box under her arm, holding herself back from running off to her office to set it up. “Jealous?” She cocked her head.

And instead of his condescending smirk and a hateful response to go with it, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fade as he eyed the box again, genuinely worried now that it was actually a gift from someone.

Before either could say anything, they all turned to find a delivery man walking up to Kayla with a giant bouquet of flowers in tow. And so it began. Although, when Kayla took the vase from the man eagerly, a bright smile on her face because Kayla loved love a little too much, Y/N couldn’t help but think about Adam. About how the only time she’d managed to get a date on Valentine’s Day was when it wasn’t even real. Instead, she’d stupidly agreed to help her cute neighbor win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for a free dinner.

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

She felt Harry watching her, too, while she eyed the bouquet of flowers as they departed reception with Kayla and made their way to their recipient. As stupid as she found everything about the holiday, she couldn’t help but want someone to send her flowers. To give her anything for that matter. To have thought about her for at least a second of their day. Harry cleared his throat and she tore her eyes away.

“So… what’s in the box?”

“None of your business.” She rounded him, heading to her office, but he grabbed her free arm to stop her short and didn’t speak until she met his gaze again.

“Can we meet up in my office to finish the proposal? Think it’ll be easier to get it done than over email.”

She had every reason to be suspicious of him. They almost never worked in each other’s offices. When they did work together, which was often, it was in one of the empty conference rooms and it was usually at the beginning of the process when they needed the space to plan things out. The last time they’d really been in each other’s offices was last spring. Figuring he just wanted to get things done so he could be out of the office on time, she let it go.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

He watched her walk away, watched her even as Kayla returned and noticed his gaze and giggled at him as she took her spot back behind her desk.

“It was something she ordered for herself, by the way.”

“What?” Harry whipped around again, not having even realized the other woman until now.

“I know you two pretend to hate each other but I see the way you look at her, Harry.” Kayla lifted a brow at him as she began typing on her keyboard.

He feigned disgust. “I’m seeing someone, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He insisted. “I have a date. Tonight.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay… I’m just saying.”

“I don’t look at her.”

Kayla suppressed a smile and snorted instead. “If you say so. I guess you didn’t also sneak into her office this morning, either.”

“I think all these flowers and stuffed bears and heart-shaped things have gotten to your head.” He pointed around to the decor littering her desk while holding his mug steady.

Kayla met his eyes and her smile slipped off her face. “Harry, please don’t mess with her.”

His face screwed up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like her then don’t lead her on.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of being led on.”

Kayla froze for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that either. “Why are you being weird?”

“Because,” Kayla sighed, brushing her curled brunette hair onto one shoulder and then lowered the volume of her voice. “I happen to know she doesn’t think very highly of herself and I’d rather not see her get hurt, especially not by you.”

Now Harry froze. The hand that gripped his mug tightened and he didn’t even flinch as it began to burn his skin. He heard Y/N’s voice in his head then as he drowned out his surroundings.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.

He had instantly regretted what he’d said to her yesterday when she’d told him that. And now hearing Kayla, in a way, confirm what he’d read between the lines of Y/N’s words… his chest tightened in quite possibly the worst way ever. He’d hated himself most of the day after telling her he’d never lower his standards for her and he could say he was just bickering all he wanted, but he knew now for certain she took it the wrong way. And he wished more than ever that he hadn’t said something so horrible to her, especially when it was the farthest thing from the truth.

And the real truth, that he was trying desperately to shove away with stupid remarks like that, was that he didn’t meet her standards. She wasn’t into relationships and he knew he wasn’t good enough to change her mind.

“How do you know that?” He finally asked.

“That Christmas party last year… she’s a really happy drunk until she’s not.”

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

“I don’t want to get into it, mostly because I don’t think she remembers and would probably kill me if I told you but… just leave her be.”

He hardened back up again. “She does’t have any interest in relationships anyway, ‘specially not with me.”

Kayla scoffed. “She’s a really good liar.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments, feeling as if his life had just gotten flipped upside down. He’d been in such a good mood mere minutes ago before his dumbass waltzed into reception all because he’d seen Y/N. Because, despite everything and despite the fact he was already attempting to date someone else, it was Y/N he wanted to be close to all the damn time. Groaning, he turned on his heel and left for his office, hoping she wasn’t there waiting for him so he could have a moment to himself to gather his thoughts.

In a hurry to open her package, Y/N slumped down into her chair tossing her purse on the ground at her feet and pulling out her box cutter in a rush of movements. She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t even notice the little stuffed frog, the box of chocolates and envelope sitting on the other side of her desk near her mouse. Instead, she unboxed her new tablet and began setting it up, not noticing the gifts until she went to turn on her computer. And then she froze.

With reluctant hands she grabbed the envelope first, her name printed on it in perfect cursive. She knew nobody in the office who had such good penmanship. Opening the card in hopes of finding out who had placed the items on her desk, instead, she just found it signed as ‘secret admirer.’ Rolling her eyes, she set the card down and realized it had to be from her boss. Sometimes he remembered to go around and give everyone little gifts on the holidays. Obviously he’d remembered this year.

She dug into the chocolates as she set up her tablet and began calibrating it to suit her needs before finally testing it out in the little bit of time she had before she needed to make her way to Harry’s office.

And once that time came, she left everything in its place, besides the box of chocolates, which she continued to pick at while she made her way through the room. What she didn’t notice while stuffing her face with candy was that… no one else had a stuffed frog or chocolates or a cheesy little card on their desks.

She rounded the corner into Harry’s office, which was a real office and not a cubicle that he usually shared with one other person who was thankfully out with clients for the day. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention after just watching him focus on his screen for a moment. Harry was cute when he was focused.

But then he turned to her and his eyes fell to the box in her hand.

When he didn’t say anything, she held it out toward him. “Do you want some? I think Andrew was feeling generous this year.”

Harry’s eyes quickly panned up to hers and his brows furrowed as if she’d just punched him in the gut. And she couldn’t make out what that expression meant no matter how hard she tried.

“He didn’t give me anything.” Harry motioned around his desk.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you.” She shrugged, setting the chocolates down on his desk while she grabbed his office mate’s chair and pulled it up beside him.

Harry sighed, turning to his computer for a moment and then watching her from his peripheral while she picked out another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t see anyone else with chocolates on their desks this morning.”

Y/N just shrugged. “There was a frog too. And a card.”

“And why do you think he’d give you all of that and no one else?” Harry hoped she’d get the hint but he didn’t hope too hard. She was still Y/N after all. And he really didn’t mean to sound so bitter… well, okay, he did. But he knew she’d misplace his bitterness, crushing what little hope there was to bits.

“Maybe he likes me better than all the rest of you.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he put his attention back on his screen.

“No one else in this office would give me a card signed as a secret admirer so… maybe I did something I don’t remember doing and he’s thanking me?” Now that she really thought about it, and if Harry was right… then it really didn’t make much sense. It’s not like she was Andrew’s favorite employee.

Harry just lifted a brow and then pretended to lose all interest.

Sensing the tension, she slipped the box closer to him. “Here. I think you need a knock-off Snickers if you expect me to work with your grumpy ass.” He made no move to indulge her, however. And so she went on, continuing to poke the bear. “Why are you in a lousy mood anyway? Isn’t this your favorite holiday? And you get to leave early.”

His eyes fell from his screen and he stared at the brick of sticky notes below his monitor before mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Taken aback, she searched what she could see of his face for answers to what he was apologizing for. He’d said a few things she could imagine deserved an apology and yet, so did she. Maybe she should have been the one to apologize to him first.

“I didn’t mean to say what I did.” He finally turned to meet her face on. He’d hoped the frog and the chocolates would have been atonement enough, but considering she thought they were from their boss and not him, he just had to suck it up and actually say what he meant.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I can be a prude sometimes.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and then shook his head, “No that’s not… I meant what I said earlier in your office… about lowering my standards. It was a stupid thing to say and not true in the slightest.”

But then she smiled and he grew confused. “Yes it is. It’s okay to have standards, you know.”

“I know that. But if we… I wouldn’t have to lower my standards. And it was cruel of me to have said that to you.”

She couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well it doesn’t matter so… can we just get this proposal done?”

He’d wanted to spend how ever long it took to convince her that it did, in fact, matter, but Y/N was persistent, more so than him, and so he’d given in and they moved on to being productive with their time. And in less time than he’d anticipated their proposal was finished, being sent off to Andrew for approval before their presentation at the end of the week with their clients.

Harry sat back in his chair and she returned her own to the other desk where it belonged, all while he watched her.

“What do you do on Valentine’s Day?” He asked, just trying to get her to stay longer, knowing that if those were his true intentions, then he was fucked. That he wanted to be around Y/N, even though he was seeing someone else, albeit for just a week so far, even though she’d never want the same from him.

Maybe he was just as terrible with relationships as she claimed if he always chased after what he couldn’t have.

“That is also none of your business.” She grabbed her box of chocolates from his desk, his voice pinning her in place again though.

“Let me guess… it involves chocolate, your cat, and the most anti-romantic movies you can find?”

He would not think her very prudish if he knew what else she did on Valentine’s Day while alone in her apartment, but she figured it was best to keep that to herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “Something like that.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his arms up behind his head as he laid back in his chair, watching her curiously like he was trying to figure her out. Meanwhile, she was trying to not make it obvious she was staring at his biceps as they just about bulged from underneath the sleeve of his pink button-up. He’d done it on purpose though, so as much as she tried to hide it, he still grinned with satisfaction when she became flustered.

“Well, have fun with that, then.” He nodded, and for a moment while she was lost in his eyes and growing embarrassingly hot, she wondered if he could read her mind. If he knew exactly what not-so-innocent things she did on Valentine’s Day. Then he brought his arms back down to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and watching as she rolled her eyes, held her chocolates close, and left his office.

Adam arrived right when he said he would at five-thirty. It had given her plenty of time to change out of her work clothes and into one of the few dresses she owned, to at least seem somewhat convincing that this was a real date. She also fixed her makeup and put on a pinkish-nude lipstick before switching out her bulky purse for a smaller crossbody.

When she opened the door to him, he most certainly did not disappoint. She almost let herself get lost in the delusion that it was a real date when she saw him dressed to the nines and cleaned up for the first time since she’d known him. And she especially got a little lost in it when he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her.

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know.” He gave her a once over when she wasn’t looking. “You didn’t have to do this for me either.”

She quietly accepted the flowers and let him in while she found a vase and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she did so.

“You look… beautiful, by the way.” He blurted out once she had cut and placed the stems into the vase. Her hands froze, though, and when he met her eyes, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“You’re paying me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous. Please don’t flatter me.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, although he was beginning to wonder if the bigger mistake was not taking her out on a proper date that had nothing to do with his ex.

She sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Let’s go then.”

He went over all the final details on the Uber ride to the restaurant. Things about his ex he thought Y/N should know about. And he made sure she knew, for about the hundredth time, that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. And she reminded him for an equal amount of times that she never did anything she didn’t want to do. So, settling that, he helped her out of the back of the Uber when they arrived and opened the door to the restraint for her as well. Everything that she’d expect from a normal date, which only left her disappointed when she reminded herself it wasn’t.

She waited quietly, and tried to catch her nerves, while Adam talked to the hostess and gave her his ex’s name for the reservation. The place was packed and anyone who didn’t call ahead surely would not be getting a table tonight. She’d never been out on Valentine’s Day, though, so it was like stepping into a brand new world for her. And as she followed both the hostess and Adam, she paid more attention to all the couples enjoying their meals than anything else.

Except for when he reached back and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers just before they came to a stop. She blinked her eyes at their hands for just a moment before he gently pulled her around next to him. And whatever way she’d felt about holding Adam’s hand went right out the window when she locked eyes with Harry.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The last thing she expected to find, while Laura, the gorgeous blonde ex-girlfriend, stood to hug Adam, was Harry fucking Styles. And what a fucking coincidence it was, almost as if this was her karma for feeling the need to constantly help people.

Adam’s hand slipped from hers but she didn’t even notice it anyway. She and Harry still stared each other down and neither of them moved a muscle either. Well, besides the one in his jaw as it tightened. Then he did move, glancing over at Adam with a blank expression before landing his gaze back on her again. And then his eyes fell to the glass of water in front of him and she felt like she’d been released from chains he’d tied around her wrists.

“This is Y/N,” Adam’s hand went to the small of her back, guiding her forward to meet his ex-girlfriend and Harry’s current… whatever they were.

Laura held out her hand, her smile a little too forced. “Laura. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit.” She ushered them to the table as she took her spot beside Harry again. Adam, of course, took the chair opposite Laura, which left Y/N in the one opposite Harry.

This would be a long, hellish night.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was thinking. That maybe she’d come to crash his date. Or, even worse, that he’d already figured the whole thing out. That Adam was paying her to be here. She really hoped he’d never find out because it was just embarrassing enough to make her want to change her name and move across the country, thousands of miles away from him. Harry finding out that she couldn’t get a real date to save her life… beyond humiliating.

“This is Harry.” Laura motioned to him and he just barely lifted his gaze, nodding at Adam and ignoring Y/N entirely. “You know,” the blonde went on, glancing between Adam and Y/N, “I was a little shocked when you told me you were seeing someone again.”

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?”

Y/N left all the talking to him. Mostly because she was still in shock that she was sitting across from Harry. And she hadn’t even taken the time to properly take him in and realized he’d also changed his clothes since work. Swapping his wardrobe out for a fitted black button-up, that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top as his shirts normally were. The sleeves were already rolled to his elbows. He’d shaved off the scruff along his jaw as well and fixed his hair so that it was combed back out of his face, although a a couple rebellious strands hung down onto his forehead. He looked… like absolute perfection. And he was being forced to be on a date with the ex-boyfriend of the girl he was seeing and his annoying co-worker. She felt terrible for him.

“Oh, uh, well we live on the same floor.”

Laura nodded, clearly anticipating more. “Is that it?”

Y/N felt Adam tense up beside her and so she took over, easily spinning a lie. “I ran out of milk one night a few weeks ago. He’s the only one who answered the door.”

She noticed a flash of movement in her peripheral and turned to find Harry’s gaze on her again, one eyebrow lifted curiously. He was either wondering how she hid it so well, or trying to figure out what to ask in order to reveal their ploy. He never said anything, though.

“Sorry, um,” Laura’s tone changed as she glanced between Harry and Y/N, both of them looking away when the other girl interrupted. “Do you two know each other?”

Harry grinned, sitting back against his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Something like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We work together.”

“Really?” Although her tone said otherwise, Laura’s face said everything about how she felt upon hearing that bit of information.

Adam twisted his worrisome gaze to Y/N, but she ignored it. Harry, however, did not.

“Don’t worry, mate. I was under the impression she was celibate up until now.” With that, Y/N kicked him under the table and he sat forward to swallow the groan that very nearly left his lips after she’d jabbed him in the shin with the toe of her heels. “Guess she’s really good at hiding things, though.”

Adam just chuckled nervously and Y/N shot him an apologetic smile, trying to reassure him that this date would still work out despite Harry.

“What a small world.” Laura laughed, trying to break the tension but dinner hadn’t even started yet.

Sometime during the main course, Laura excused herself to the bathroom and Y/N almost, in a desperate attempt to flee both Adam and Harry, invited herself along. But she figured it’d be worse to be alone with Laura than with them. Laura might ask questions she wasn’t prepared for. So, she stayed put, as much as it pained her to do so.

“So, Adam, what do you do for a living?” Harry asked suddenly and she wanted to kick him again. Mostly because his tone was that of a jealous teenager and he’d waited until Laura was gone to pester her ex-boyfriend who most certainly did not deserve Harry’s pestering.

“Oh, uh, I’m an artist. I work for an animation studio at the moment but I’m trying to get into freelance.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the suspiciously quiet girl sitting across from him. “So is Y/N.”

Adam turned to look at her, but she just glared at Harry. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Harry titled his head as he narrowed his attention in on Adam again. “So you’ve known her for a few weeks and you never asked what she did?”

“Harry.” Y/N warned, trying to kick him under the table again but he dodged out of the way.

“Well… she said she was in graphic design… not art.” She had told him that, during their crash course yesterday while they got to know as much as they could about each other in a span of a couple hours.

“I think it’s the same thing.”

Adam just shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think I could be a designer, though. Most artists make what they think looks good, designers create things to appeal to customers.”

“Just ignore him.” Y/N advised and Harry was the one shooting her daggers and attempting to stomp his foot on top of hers under the table this time.

“You and Laura used to date then? She never told me how you split up.” Harry moved on.

Adam swallowed nervously. “She broke up with me.”

“Why?” Harry pushed and Y/N looked at him like she wanted to kill him, which he ignored.

“I, uh… I had a drug problem for a while. I was not the best person to be around sometimes. But after we broke up, she helped me with rehab and everything.”

“Guess that explains why you’re on such good terms.”

Now Y/N really wanted to do more than just kick him.

Adam grabbed Y/N’s hand under the table and pulled her straight from her violent thoughts about Harry. And he didn’t lace his fingers between hers, instead, it felt as if he had just been looking for something to ground himself with. And her hand resting on her lap was the closest thing he could find. It didn’t, however, go unnoticed by Harry and his jaw clenched as he stared at the point in the table where, just below, there their hands met almost as if he was trying to set everything on fire.

Laura returned shortly after that.

As promised, Adam paid the entirety of both his and Y/N’s bill, even though she attempted to snag it from him, seeing as the date had gone to shit and it was all her fault. Well… maybe it was also Harry’s fault a little bit too. But she definitely did nothing to make Laura jealous. Adam, on the other hand, did a great job at making Harry jealous just by existing and being Laura’s ex, whom she was still friends with.

The four of them stood outside on the curb awaiting their Uber after dinner was over, agreeing upon splitting one car to get to the party instead of taking two. Laura was apparently very cautious about fossil fuel consumption.

Y/N shivered as she stood between Adam and Laura, wishing she’d bright a jacket instead of relying on a long-sleeve dress to keep her warm. Then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Adam pulled her close, running his hand up and down her arm to form heat. She tensed up, though, forming into an immovable brick. She had no idea the last time she’d been that close to another person, let alone a member of the opposite sex. When he felt her go rigid, he leaned down until his lips were at her ear. “Is this okay?”

She just nodded and tried to relax. Which turned out to be quite easy because Adam was warm and he smelled nice. She, of course, didn’t let her mind wander off too far. He was still in love with his ex. He’d still shove cash into her hand at the end of the night for her troubles and go on with his life.

Adam let go of her when the car pulled up and quickly went to the passenger door to confirm with the driver. Then he opened the back door for the three of them to climb in, Laura going first, then Harry, and, at last, Y/N, while Adam slipped into the front seat beside the driver.

While the car took off, Y/N was shoved into the corner when Harry moved closer to her in order to find both his and Laura’s seat buckles in the dark. Eventually, he settled back into the middle and gave her some space again. When she made no move to do the same as them, Harry turned to look down at her.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

Her eyes whirled up to his. Wordlessly, and of course after rolling her eyes, she grabbed her seatbelt and he made room for her to buckle it in. Then she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she stared out at the traffic through her window.

She would have stayed in that exact position the entire trip, too, if Harry’s knee didn’t insist on bumping into hers constantly. And she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

When she glanced up at him, and found the corner of his lips curl upward, she figured it was, in fact, purposeful. So, with the hand closest to him as her arms were still crossed, she poked him in the side, right against his ribs, hoping it hurt.

“Ouch.” He whined, covering the spot with his hand dramatically. Everyone in the car glanced at Harry, all except for Y/N who snickered as she returned to staring out the window.

Harry wasn’t giving up, though. This time, with his arms crossed in his lap, and glancing at Laura to be sure she wasn’t watching, he walked his pointer and middle finger up the outside of Y/N’s thigh, close enough to her hip to make her squirm slightly when his touch tickled her. And as soon as he got her attention, he looked down at what he was doing and pressed his middle finger against her, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

In the same moment, the driver turned up the music in the car as they waited tirelessly at a red light. It was better than silence or listening to his passengers breathing. But Harry mentally thanked him and turned his attention back to Y/N, leaning into her slightly until his lips were at her ear and she shivered for an all new reason.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” He whispered for her ears only. The music was especially loud in the back and he wasn’t sure Y/N had even heard him.

Especially since she didn’t respond right away. But how could she? Harry’s fingertips were still grazing her thigh, as if trying to emphasize the dress she had on. And his stupid knee was pressed right up against hers. She couldn’t think straight.

Though when she finally turned to him and whispered back, “Don’t get used to it,” he knew she had, in fact, heard him well enough.

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.”

She hated that there were butterflies in her stomach. That he was saying such odd things to her when his date was sitting just on the other side of him. The date who most definitely met all Harry’s standards.

Huddling away from him, she stuck her eyes out the window and kept them there the rest of the trip.

It was just past eight when they arrived, a fifteen-minute trip up through the city taking half an hour due to all the Valentine’s Day traffic. Another reason she hated this holiday.

The party was being held by Laura’s best friend, who’s name Y/N did not care to commit to memory. In the elevator ride up to the penthouse, though, Harry stood close to Laura, his arm wrapped around her waist and Adam to Y/N, although he didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did, but she figured it was best to keep those boundaries in place anyway.

Pink and golden balloons littered the ceilings of the penthouse. The drink cups were also pink, as was the communal punch bowl that Y/N steered clear of, having no idea what was in it, or who had already spiked it. She knew nobody at the party besides who she’d come with, though she assumed both Adam and Harry were somewhat acquainted with Laura’s friends.

It was most definitely not someplace Y/N ever saw herself being at, not only because it was a Valentine’s themed party, but also because she wasn’t exactly comfortable around so many people. Especially when those people were all so unfamiliar to her.

“Here,” Adam handed her a drink and then grabbed one for himself. She downed the thing in one go, needing to take the edge off. It might’ve been a slight mistake when the alcohol burned the back of her throat, but she didn’t care too much when she grabbed another.

Then he was leading her into the dancing pit of bodies where they huddled close enough so that his lips were at her ear. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

She glanced over at where Laura and Harry had been left, finding both her hazel eyes and Harry’s green ones glued to the both of them. She wasn’t sure what Harry’s deal was, but this was her moment to fix things and make Laura jealous, so, turning back to Adam, she nodded.

He eased his hands onto her waist as they began swaying to the music. And then he pulled her closer, his hands slipping to the small of her back as her arms wrapped around his neck, being careful with her own movements even though she desperately wanted to sink her hands in his hair.

And, god, he smelled so good as her head rested in the crook of his neck. And he felt good, too, as he moved against her body. She knew it wasn’t real, and that the alcohol was making skewing her perception of things, but it was still nice. Nice to be held and to just let go for a change.

Over Adam’s shoulder, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes again. His jaw clenched and he looked the same as he did back at the restaurant. Angry. And then she realized that maybe she wasn’t really trying to make Laura jealous anymore at all, but rather Harry.

It was dumb, she knew that. He’d have to like her in order for her to make him jealous. But… the way he was looking at her. The way he had looked at her. His eyes lingering too long on her lips. What he’d done in the car ride here.

She heard Adam in her ear again. “I think it’s working. She just stormed off into the kitchen.” Then he pulled away and she realized she hadn’t even seen Laura. Just Harry. Harry and his stupid, obnoxious green eyes.

“You owe me more than just dinner.” Y/N teased but Adam grew serious.

“I know. And since you refuse to accept my money, I’ll have to figure out another way to repay you.” He smiled and then twirled her around so that she no longer had any line of sight toward Harry. He pulled her close again, one hand going to her waist while the other stayed locked to one of hers. “Suppose I could start with making your coworker just as jealous… although I think he already is.”

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him.

“Oh, come on! He was ready to rip my head off when he realized I’d grabbed your hand. And when I put my arm around you? I thought I might be better off just giving you my jacket and freezing to death instead.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head in disbelief. It was one thing for her to be pretending to make Harry jealous in some delusional hope that it’d work. But this… this was a whole other thing.

“I’m actually quite interested to see what he does if I kissed you.”

She was shocked at first and then, possibly due to the alcohol, just as interested. “Are you asking my permission?”

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

Adam’s eyes scanned the room and Y/N realized he hadn’t asked to kiss her for Laura’s sake at all.

“She is.” He finally announced.

Without any more second guessing, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him in. As soon as their lips collided and she tasted the alcohol on him, she knew that she’d never agreed to this without it. Or maybe she would. Adam spun them back around again, deepening the kiss as her eyes opened and fell into the direction she’d last seen Harry.

He was still there.

Still watching.

His hands in fists. His jaw tightened into a crisp line. His nostrils flared. His eyes… sad.

She pulled away. Adam steadied her, grabbing her shoulders when she swayed. But, as she caught her breath, the dizziness went away.

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” She told him and after he nodded, she left, forming a rift for herself through the bodies that danced all around them until she was in the clear. Then she was avoiding Harry as she walked past him, not so sure his gaze was still set on her. Maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t often just kiss people for no good reason and that’s exactly what she’d just done with Adam. She barely even knew him.

She didn’t exactly need the bathroom, just an open, empty and quiet place. And so, she fell back against a wall in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair.

“That was quite the show.”

She startled at the sound of his familiar voice and looked up just as he stopped a few feet away from her. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted a brow. “You expect me to believe that that you, anti everything to do with this holiday and with relationships and romance, are actually dating that guy?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” She crossed her arms, willing to go as far as she needed to before she let Harry see the truth. That she was that pathetic.

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to respond and she flinched.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have a hard time believing that someone may actually like me.” She had no reason to nearly be shouting at him and no reason to be saying what she was because Adam didn’t like her.

“That’s not what I said. It’s hard for me to believe you just dropped all your ideas about relationships for some guy with obnoxious blue eyes.”

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

Y/N hesitated. Hating that the truth was about to boil over out of her mouth for him to see all the embarrassing bits of it, but she had no other way of convincing him. And it didn’t really help that Adam was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even convincing to begin with. Nor did she want to convince Harry of anything either. It was clear now that he hadn’t been jealous, he was just trying to figure out when she stopped hating relationships so much.

And the truth of that was she never really hated them. It was just easier telling herself she didn’t want it than admitting no one ever actually wanted her.

She trembled, not even sure why, but he was making her incredibly nervous, so much that she wished she could rewind and stay squished next to him in the back of the car forever. Being that close to him... his stupid fingers on her thigh, whispering things in her ear that made her head spin. She’d much prefer that than standing in front of him now, seeing every ounce of judgment he was about to throw her way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” She shrugged and dropped her eyes to the white marble floors between them, focusing on calming her anxiety while she was no longer looking at him. “He needed a date and I felt bad for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Letting her head fall back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling this time as her eyes burned with embarrassment. “He paid me to be his date so his ex-girlfriend didn’t find out he wasn’t actually seeing anyone. That’s what it means.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“So, yeah.” She folded her arms, looking down at the floor again, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes and see the look that would be on his face. A smirk of amusement at her expense. Even probably his dimples, taunting her and turning her into the joke she already was. “You were right. I can’t find anyone to tolerate me, which is why I’m on this stupid date that isn’t even real.”

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

There was more exasperation than humor to her laugh. “It wasn’t.”

Harry seemed to finally understand. “He’s trying to make Laura jealous.”

Y/N just nodded. “I promise I didn’t know you were going to be there, that he was trying to get her back from you.”

“You still kissed him though.”

She couldn’t argue that, nor could she tell him the real reason she’d agreed to the kiss. That it wasn’t exactly Laura she was trying to make jealous. She’d never live that one down, if she ever managed to live any other aspect of this night down.

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “Why did you kiss him?”

“I’m sorry, Harry I just... I don’t know.”

He shook his head and took another step, making her eyes widen when he was close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. “Seemed like you were trying to make me jealous.”

She swallowed, not exactly in the position to laugh it off and argue with him when he was this close and all she could feel were the traces of his fingertips on her thigh. Her voice was quiet when it finally came out. “Making you jealous would mean I assumed you liked me in the first place... which I’m definitely not stupid enough to assume.”

A crease formed between his brow and his stupidly perfect jaw hardened as if he was biting his tongue from saying something. And fuck him for choosing then to finally stop opening his mouth.

Just then, a pair of drunk guys, one on the other’s back, came racing through the foyer, screaming at the top of their lungs while a few others followed quickly after them. It was enough to force Harry away from Y/N again, enough for the both of them to step out of the little bubble they’d been in together the past ten minutes.

Once they were alone again, their eyes gravitated toward each other and just when she thought Harry might say something after all, he flipped around on his heel and left. And she watched as he turned the corner and mixed back into the party.

After a few moments to gather herself, she followed him, not exactly sure what she was going to do now that Harry wouldn’t talk to her and it felt weird being with Adam while Harry knew everything. But, whatever plans to keep herself occupied no longer matted when she spotted Laura.

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room.

Without even thinking, she turned to locate Harry and he might as well have been a source of gravity because her eyes fell right to him within a second. And he was watching them too. He knew.

He met Y/N’s eyes and she wasn’t quite sure if he was upset or not. She couldn’t really read anything on his face, and stopped attempting to when he moved towards her and she had other things on her mind, like where he was going and if he was going to bother taking her with him.

Shortly after he stormed past Y/N she made sure he wasn’t going to leave her behind and chased after him. She didn’t know Adam very well and definitely not Laura to want to stay with them. And everyone else in the room were complete strangers to her. Adam had promised he’d take her home, but he probably hadn’t expected to be making out with his ex by the end of the night, either.

Harry didn’t say anything, not even when they’d reached the foyer and Y/N asked where he was going. He just located his jacket and slipped it on before making his way out the front door.

And right when she thought he really was going to leave her behind, since she was the reason he’d just lost Laura to her ex, he held the door open and glanced over his shoulder at her while she still stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Are you staying?”

Without a word, she sprung into motion and trailed right behind him into the hallway like a lost puppy, letting the door shut behind her that cut them off from the music as it faded into the background behind them.

It was a silent trip down the elevator, mostly because she had no idea what to say that would sound sincere and he didn’t say anything at all. At least not until she followed him through the lobby until he stopped on the curb just outside the main doors.

She took up the spot next to him, eyes glued to the side of his face as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as traffic allowed it to be.

Then he spoke, and it seemed like the first time she’d heard his voice all night. “I’m the one who gave you the chocolates and the frog.”

She narrowed her eyes, both not exactly sure why he’d just said that or if he was even being serious. “What?”

He looked down at her. “It wasn’t Andrew, it was me.”

“Why?” She breathed and while she was positive she’d be freezing cold soon, the fresh air after being surrounded by so many people felt good. It felt freeing and she wondered if he felt that way too.

His eyes scanned hers before he looked away. “Well partly to apologize for what I said.”

“What’s the other part?”

Sighing, he turned his entire body to face her now. “Something else entirely…” He trailed off, only confusing her more as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like all this stuff, but seeing you with him tonight... I wish I had.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a frog.”

He shook his head, grinning. “It’s not just a frog, Y/N... because the thing is,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’ve been in love with you for... a really long time… since last spring. But with you being the way that you are, I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“And then you come in with that guy and...” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life... because all this time I thought you weren’t interested in relationships, but you just weren’t interested in me.”

Inhaling, she summoned every ounce of courage she could fathom. “You were right about why I kissed Adam.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her elaboration which never came. “You were right about other things, too. I wish I had someone to come home to almost every single night I got to bed alone. No one—“ She cut herself off, trembling again as tears stung her eyes. “I pretend not to be interested so I can ignore the fact that no one’s ever wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He had that same look on his face as before, when she’d told him she wasn’t stupid enough to think he liked her.

She just nodded. “And I’m sorry but... why would you want me when you could have someone like Laura?”

“Y/N...” He huffed and stepped closer to her, the heat from his body making her shiver. “This is not the first time I started seeing someone to get over you... in fact, all my relationships since I met you have been shit.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well you’re very anti-relationships so I think I was justified in wanting to avoid you rejecting me… especially since we work together and it would have been really awkward.”

“I don’t, uh... I...” She stammered, not really sure what to say to him even though her heart was screaming at her in full volume.

He held his breath and then, in almost a whisper, “Is this the inevitable rejection?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate that time and at this point, her mind no longer controlled the words coming out of her mouth as she let another organ finally speak for itself. “No, I liked you the second I saw you, Harry... and at no point tonight was I ever trying to make Laura jealous.”

The corners of his mouth began to curl into a smile. “That was very cruel of you to do to me.”

“I didn’t think you liked me at all twenty minutes ago, Harry.”

“Twenty minutes ago,” he fully invaded all of her space now, leaving the smallest gap between their bodies as he could get away with, lifting his hand to her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I was still on this date with the wrong person.”

“I think the date is over now.”

“No,” his eyes fell to her lips just like they had before. “It’s not.”

“You’re looking at me like that again.” She mumbled, out of breath.

He lifted a brow and didn’t once remove his eyes from her lips. “Like what?”

“Like…” she trailed off, not having the courage to say it in case she wasn’t right.

“Like I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time and I’m tired of pretending?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

He grinned, both of his dimples making an appearance just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And once her brain realized what was happening, she sunk right into him, letting his arm wrap around her waist as his other hand tangled its way into her hair to bring her closer. She threw her arms over his shoulders and he hunched lower to meet her. She staggered back a step when he did, nearly losing her balance but he caught her instantly and then drew his lips back as he laughed.

“This is not how I expected tonight to end.” She couldn’t help but think the way he struggled to catch his breath was possibly the hottest he’d ever been. Not to mention the tiny bit of her lipstick smeared on his face. She could look at him just the way he was right there and then for days and be perfectly satisfied.

“It doesn’t have to end yet.” She fully blamed her sudden burst of confidence on the cold, but refreshing February night. And maybe she also just wanted to get out of it before it caught up to her and she would, yet again, regret not having a jacket.

“Oh?” She wanted to smack the mischievous smirk off his face and leave him there on the curb. “And here I thought you were a prude.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that weren’t true, Harry.”

He thought about that for a moment and after realizing she was right, he then wondered just how wrong he was when he’d called her celibate. “I suppose… I’d quite like to find out just how wrong I was.” He slipped a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, which is where his lips ended up as he whispered softly, “And I’d also quite like to show you just how wrong you were about me not liking you.”

They stumbled into her bedroom in the dark, Pretzel racing out between their twisted feet in a hurry, screeching at them in the process. Harry giggled against her lips, “Your cat sounds friendly.”

“Well, since I was supposed to be spending tonight with her, and chocolate, and anti-romantic movies…” She pulled away from him, watching as his smile spread further. Maybe she could actually believe he’d been in love all this time.

“Right… I’d be upset too.”

She shook her head and kissed him again, then pulled back a second later. “You know that’s not actually what I do on Valentine’s Day.”

He lifted a brow and waited for her to explain but she didn’t.

“And what is it that you do, then?” He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, although he had some inkling as to what she was talking about.

Her smile was devoid of innocence as her hands fell to his belt. Harry’s shirt had already been lost to the kitchen floor. Her dress hardly covering what it was supposed to once Harry had gotten his hands on it.

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.”

When she brought her lips back to his, after undoing the buckle just under his navel, he spun them around and led her backwards to the bed. He wasn’t sure how far it was, but hoped he was headed in the right direction. And because of that, when her knees did finally bend over the mattress, he practically came flying down on top of her.

She squirmed out from under him, crawling back towards the pillows as she watched him at the end of the bed while he stood and removed his belt completely, trying not to drool at the sight of him. At the sight of Harry, her fucking annoying ass, perfect, beautiful, coworker standing shirtless at the end of her bed where he was also about to be…

He pushed his trousers down off his hips and they fell to the floor with ease, almost with the same amount of ease that her eyes fell to the tight boxer-briefs he wore underneath. She swallowed as he adjusted the waistband back into place, quite certain that, even in the low light, her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bed shifted at her feet as he joined her, and then it took all her willpower to not fling herself at him as he crawled up the length of her. As he settled himself between her thighs and she felt every last, very hard, inch of him pressed against her. She couldn’t be blamed for the whining moan that she let out in his ear as his lips became familiar with the shape and taste of her neck. She also couldn’t be blamed when her hips instinctively collided with his.

He just giggled again and shook his head, the loose strands of his curls tickling her forehead. “Easy now.” He warned in a hushed mumble, his lips vibrating right against the vein in her neck that pulsed so much faster the more his free hand began to wander up underneath her dress.

He left her speechless for multiple reasons, but the main one was when she felt his fingers tracing down her thigh and then, moments later, after he shifted his weight and used his knees to keep her legs open, she sucked in a breath of air as she felt him pressed against her clit, forcing her nails to dig into his back but he didn’t seem to mind.

Coming back down to kiss her, he began moving his hand in expert little circles, grinning against her mouth every time her body begged him for more. It wasn’t long that he complied, either, when he sat back on his knees between her legs and tugged her underwear off for good, throwing it to the depths of her bedroom floor. He wouldn’t have known where they landed even if he tried because his gaze belong to her only as he lowered himself to his elbows before her, kissing his way up her thighs until he reached her center.

When she squirmed away from him, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his hands into her hips after gently moving her dress out of the way.

“You know when we used to stay late at the office working?” He asked suddenly and the heat of his voice against her made her squirm again, but he held on tight. “And you would get sick of sitting in an office chair and made me promise not to tell Jim when you sat on his desk instead?” She had no clue where he was going with it, but still, she nodded. “Every single time I turned to look at you, I thought about doing this.” Before she could get words out or even a coherent thought, she felt his tongue on her. And this time when she jerked against him, she nearly slipped out of his hold until he grabbed her again and pulled her back down, digging himself further into her as she struggled to breathe properly.

She dug her fingers into his hair when he brought her close to the edge and showed no mercy. And somehow, she’d managed to get the sole of her foot up onto his shoulder in order to kick him away, but it didn’t matter much because he never budged. Not that she wanted him to, but he just felt so good…

“Harry!” She shouted, pulling at his hair and making matters worse for herself when he moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He let her come, never once lifting his mouth from her even as her hips jerked off the mattress and she very nearly pulled his hair out. When she stopped screaming, her voice caught in her throat because she was lost to her own orgasm, is when he lifted his mouth, replaced it with his fingers and watched her as she came down. As her eyes fluttered shut and her chest heaved, her lungs struggling to get oxygen back into her system. Her hold on him loosened as she came undone around him, melting into his hands it seemed like.

And when he began rubbing his index and middle finger into her, once she was far and beyond overstimulated, and he knew that, she reached down with a whine and grabbed his wrist with what little strength she had in her and pulled him away. His hand fell to the other side of her hip, which he used to his advantage to pull himself up over her again, his other hand taking her dress with it until he was able to tug it over her head and toss it. Then he came back down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on her lips. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and when he pulled away, found her looking at him finally. Although it was with heavy lids as she still struggled to regain her bearings.

Before they could get much further, a loud crashing sound from the other room made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. She shot up instantly, grabbing hold of Harry’s bicep before moving him out of the way and sliding off the edge of the bed.

“It’s just the cat.” Harry would have probably said the same thing even if it was not just the cat, he’d say anything just to get her to stay with him.

“I know but it sounded like…” her voice trailed off as her feet hit the floor and the moment she went to stand on her own two legs, her knees buckled. He reached to grab her waist but she righted herself before he could. She didn’t see the way he hid his cheeky smirk at the fact that he’d been so good, she was still dizzy.

“You good?” He asked as she stumbled her way into a shirt. With only a groan in response, and what he was sure was her middle finger, she left him alone in her bed to investigate the noise. Sighing, he laid on his back and got comfortable amongst her pillows. And after about three minutes, decided to locate the remote to her TV to entertain himself.

He flipped onto his side and felt around her bedside table, but his fingers never landed on anything remote-like. So, frustrated, he reached up and switched the lamp on. Again, he found nothing. Looking further, he realized the table had a drawer and so he pulled it open in hopes of finding the damned remote before she got back.

But what he found instead was so much better than turning on late night news.

“Fucking cat knocked over my vase.” Y/N was back within ten minutes. Harry had left the light on, but made sure it wasn’t obvious he’d gone snooping into her drawer, at least not yet anyway. She crawled back into bed beside him and it was then he noticed the bandage on her thumb.

“Are you alright?” He forgot all about what he planned to tease her with when he gently grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“Yeah. I was in a bit of hurry trying to clean up the glass…”

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped her hand. “I would have come help you.”

She just smiled up at him as he fit his arm around her shoulders, his bicep under her neck. “That’s alright.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best anyways that I didn’t.” When he smirked, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“And why’s that?”

She followed his other hand as he reached for something and then, moments later, it reappeared with a very familiar pink object clutched in his grasp. “Because then I wouldn’t have found this.”

Her first reaction was to pry it from his snooping fingers, but when she reached across him to grab it, he way too easily held her back and, at the same time, held it far out of her reach.

“So this is what you do on Valentine’s Day, then?” He flicked his wrist back and forth, waving her vibrator in the air as he taunted her.

“If you don’t give that back to me,” she reached for it again to no prevail, “you won’t be doing anything, least of all, me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Why would I give it back when I plan on using it?”

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Would be rude of me to break your traditions, wouldn’t it?”

She swallowed, her eyes slowly meeting his again. The appearance of his right dimple told her he wasn’t playing any games. She had no idea how many times he planned to make her come tonight or whether or not she’d even be able to walk tomorrow at work. But, given the stupid look on his face, she almost began making plans to call out sick instead.

“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” She finally asked, glancing at the wand still held very firmly in his hand.

He looked at her like she was crazy moments before he pivoted and pinned her onto her back, settling himself into the position they’d been in before the interruption of the cat.

Just, this time… he was clicking on her vibrator and watching her face as she began to regret her words.

“‘Course I know how to use it. The real question is,” he brought his lips to her ear, the soft vibrations and the sound of his voice mixing together like sin itself. Even more so when he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you know how to handle it?”

#1dffvalentine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine

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anarchy-and-piglins · 2 years

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Oh please go into more detail about skeppy kidnapping techno from pogtopia, my brain would like the juicy details

YES absolutely. To begin with, please note that while I jokingly called this a Dark-not-SBI story (dark happyduo is how I originally pitched it?) I'd say the premise could just as easily be adopted for a more general hurt/comfort-y vibe story. I just crave other characters being protective over Techno and it's fun to take that to scary extremes.

General premise is that this is set during Pogtopia (duh), more specifically right after the Red Festival and the subsequent Pit fight. After that whole debacle, Techno leaves the ravine to cool off because a lot of his fellow revolutionaries basically resent him, and certainly don't trust him. He's wounded from the festival/fight - nobody has exactly cared to patch him up of course - and also lowkey sick because he's been spending his time not sleeping, barely eating, overworking himself, etc to tend to the revolution.

This is where Skeppy comes in. Now I'm actually undecided here. It could be fun to make it so Skeppy knows about the Red Festival and he reaches out to Techno first, basically already proving he's the only person bothering to check up on him after all the shit it's put him through. Alternatively, I thought of a scene where Techno messages Skeppy a quip, since it usually makes him feel better. Skeppy responds, but notices after less than three messages back and forth that something is wrong, because he probably knows Techno better than anyone, then he rushes over.

Either way, Skeppy immediately goes to find Techno, brings him back to the Badlands mansion (forcefully or otherwise), and BBH and Skeppy help him recover (which takes a bit because Techno's 'lowkey sick' has definitely turned into full pneumonia)

While he's there, two things happen. 1) Techno bonds with the other members of the Badlands - which at this point would be Antfrost and Sam, also Ponk who is not a part of the Badlands officially but spends a lot of time there thanks to Sam. They all become very attached to Techno very quickly. And 2) Happyduo in particular find out more about what Techno was called to Pogtopia for and how Wilbur was basically using Techno as a glorified war machine, and they decide they will have NONE of that.

After Techno recovers is where the story begins to deviate depending on how 'dark' you want to make the characters. Some of the members of Pogtopia probably come looking for Techno then, because they kinda realize their revolution doesn't stand a chance without them. They try to convince him to rejoin, either through kindness (apologies, begging for his help, telling him they need him) or guilt-tripping (telling Techno he owns it to them, accusing him of what happened at the festival and how the only way he can make that up to them is helping them) or a combo of both depending on which characters show up.

I really would love for Skeppy to give a 'the reason you suck' speech to Wilbur and Quackity in particular lmao. Also, BBH is a shapeshifter who is an absolute sweetheart to Skeppy and Techno but would rip out the heart of anybody who seriously threatens them <3

If you want the more wholesome hurt/comfort vibe, I'm thinking Techno decides he wants to stay in the Badlands willingly and it's all peaches and roses. If you take the more dark route - which is the one I would do and the one I've thought about more - Techno's swayed by at least parts of the Pogtopian's arguments and also his own still existing conviction that the Schlatt administration needs to go. And he wants to return to the revolution, which the Badlands won't let happen so easily.

(the whole "they don't care about him like we do. he doesn't know what's good for him" vibe)

Where would the story go? No clue, all I know is that Techno was going to fall off a cliff at some point and horribly fuck up his leg, much to the delightment of Bad and Skeppy because now Techno can't run away anymore uwu

#skeppy #badboyhalo #technoblade #thoughts #as mentioned the other badlands people would feature #but it was mostly dark happyduo focussed

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littlestarofthewest · 3 years

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Forever ago request that I started long ago and finally finished. Hope you'll see this, anon.

Title: Saved by the Bell | Words: 2,611 | Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Arthur x female reader

You can't exactly tell when it started; you just know it's getting worse. For a few weeks now, you and Arthur have been dancing around each other, making jokes and comments that aren't solely friendly. You also don't remember who started it, but now that you're both in it, neither of you wants to give in and stop.

Somehow, Arthur always manages to do his work right in front of you, often needlessly shirtless, giving you a good look at his muscular body. In turn, you bend over way more than necessary, not caring if your clothes stay in place, exposing your cleavage or legs up to your thighs.

Today, it's one of those days again. Arthur is chopping wood, always in your frame of vision, once again refusing to wear a shirt. He only stops when you use helping Pearson as an excuse to lick your fingers clean at every chance you get.

Arthur disappears after that. You see him again when you're down by the river to clean some clothes. He washes barely a few steps away from you. Unlucky for him, you're not the most squeamish when it comes to cold water. Only dressed in your chemise, you don't care how the stream soaks the fabric, making it cling to your thighs.

By the time Arthur walks over to you, you managed to get a few splashes of water on your chest as well, letting your breasts shine through like a beacon in the night. Arthur's eyes clearly rest there for a moment before he looks at your face.

"Charles said you wanted to come on our next hunting trip. That true?" he asks.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?"

"Lots of wild animals out there. It's pretty dangerous."

You know he doesn't mean that. After all, you've been out with them before. The whole conversation is just another way of teasing you. Arthur is standing way closer than he has to or does with the other girls. Droplets of water are still searching their way through the hair on his chest to run down over his stomach before they find their end at the hem of his jeans, not allowed to venture any deeper. Just like your gaze.

After weeks and weeks of this, it begins to annoy you. "You know, the chance of being ravished by some wild beast out there doesn't scare me at all. In fact, it would be a nice change of pace."

Arthur needs a moment to process your answer, and something in his face and posture shifts. "Are you sure? You could get hurt."

He sounds way too serious, and maybe you should get to the bottom of it, but you're out of patience. You get up and pick up the basket with the clothes before leaning over to Arthur. "I'm tired of the chase, Arthur. If you want your prey, you shoot it, or you don't. You don't make it run until it wants to throw itself off a cliff just to put an end to it."

Arthur opens his mouth but doesn't say anything. At that moment, you decide that you don't want a man who can't be honest about what he wants. You gave Arthur enough hints, making clear that you wouldn't be opposed to taking it a step further with him. If he can't act on that, then you'll call it quits.

"Maybe I'll find someone else to hunt with," you say, walking away. For a brief moment, you have a flicker of hope that Arthur might hold you back, but the silence behind you is absolut. It's over.

[Line Break]

A week later, Arthur and Micah bring in a big score. They're the most unlikely pair out there, but Arthur is also the only one who can keep Micah in check aside from Dutch. Arthur chooses to work with him, so nobody else has to.

It's barely past noon, but a little celebration is born. People are singing and drinking, and while you're usually not much into booze, you make an exception this time. Micah, on the other hand, gets drunk faster than anybody else. That's probably why he tries to talk to you at all. You could never stand him and made that so clear that even a thickhead like Micah accepted that he should avoid you. Today, he seems to have forgotten all about that.

"Come on, doll. We've just gotten off to a bad start. I'm sure we can become friends."

The way he lets his eyes roam over your body makes it pretty clear that being friends is the last thing on his mind. Usually, you would have told him to get lost, but Arthur is walking over to get another beer, and an evil voice inside you tells you to get even.

"Friends, huh?" you say, reaching for the collar of Micah's shirt. You straighten it before running your fingers over his skin, playing with the little hairs on Micah's chest. "That all?"

Micah grins, trying to puff himself up. Instead, he sways dangerously, barely able to stand upright. "Oh, I can be more than that. Say the word, and I'll show you a good time."

It's not lost on you that Arthur hasn't moved from his spot. He's just standing there, listening in on your conversation. "Tell you what," you say, leaning over to Micah and dropping your voice, "I'll think about it, but you have to do a lot better than this."

Arthur drops the bottle he's holding, but Micah pays him no mind, too occupied with you. "Let's go right now."

"Get sober first," you say and push Micah, making him fall flat on his ass. You walk away, hearing Micah laugh behind you.

You hope that he's forgotten all about this when he wakes up. You don't have the nerve to keep him off your back again, but Arthur's reaction was worth it.

Not in the mood to participate in the festivities, you grab a basket from Pearson's wagon before venturing into the woods to find berries or mushrooms. The sun drops down through the trees, basking even the darkest places in a warm light. The bushes hang ripe with berries and picking a few, you wish everything was that easy.

You're about to move on when you hear something behind you. Pulling your knife out, you whisk around, the basket dropping to the floor. Arthur is coming out from behind a few trees, lifting up his hands as he sees you. "Just me."

"Why are you following me?"

"I was just heading into the woods," Arthur grunts. "Is that a crime now?"

You put away your knife and drop to your knees to collect the scattered berries. Arthur moves over to help you, annoying you even more. You can't be angry at him for being nice.

"Cowardice should be a crime," you murmur under your breath.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see how Arthur clenches his jaw, fighting not to give you an answer. Two berries later, he loses the battle. "I'm not a coward."

"If you say so."

"I'm not afraid," Arthur huffs, "just because I'm not an asshole like Micah."

You grab one of the berries so hard that it crushes in your hand. "At least he wants me and acted on it."

"Who says I don't want you?" Arthur hisses.

Your faces are only inches apart now, and you stay there to hold your ground. "If you want me, Arthur, you have to take me. You can't-"

You don't get a chance to finish the sentence. Arthur closes the gap between you and presses a hard kiss on your lips. At first, you're too stunned to react, but then you throw your arms around Arthur's neck, eager for more.

Spurred on by your reaction, Arthur moves closer, and you topple over into the grass, Arthur on top of you. He kisses you open-mouthed and sloppy, his hands digging into your sides. It's almost painful, but you can't hold back either, running your hands over his chest.

While opening his shirt, you rip off a button, and it flies away into the bushes, never to be seen again. Arthur kisses along your neck while his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts. You arch your back, pressing up against him, and Arthur opens your dress. With quick fingers, he manages to work it down enough to expose you and leans in to kiss every inch he can reach. You thread your fingers into Arthur's hair and can't help that you pull on it when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Finally," you gasp, and Arthur reaches down to pull up your dress.

His hand immediately goes to your center, his hand sneaking into your underwear to tease your pussy. With how long you've been waiting for this and the rough treatment of Arthur now, it's no surprise that you're soaking wet for him, and Arthur moans against your skin at the touch.

"You really want to get ravished, huh?" he murmurs, and this time you pull his hair on purpose.

"You really should listen better."

"Fine," Arthur grunts, something in his voice that makes your skin tingle in anticipation. "Turn around."

He gives you free and helps you along, rolling you onto your stomach. "Arthur, what-?"

You can't finish the question and let out a surprised squeal when Arthur grabs you by the waist and lifts you up, forcing you to go on all fours. He pushes your skirt up with the same enthusiasm as before and pulls down your underwear, just enough to have access.

For a moment, you can't feel Arthur but hear him rummaging around with his own clothes. Then, a warm hand finds your thigh, the touch setting butterflies free in your stomach. Arthur might talk about ravishing you, but doesn't have it in him to hurt you, still way more careful than you're used to.

He moves closer, making you feel his heat as he brushes his cock along your wet folds before pushing in. You claw your fingers into the ground under you as Arthur stretches you open, pushing in deep until he draws a soft cry from your lips. He stills then, hesitating once more.

"Arthur, please," you say, pushing back against him, "more."

Finally, Arthur moves with more confidence. He thrusts into you while his fingers dig into your hips, holding on to you for leverage. Knowing that you're not that far from camp, you try your best to stay quiet, but with the way Arthur treats you now, you can't suppress eager moans.

When you add the occasional "God, yes" and call out Arthur's name, he groans and goes even harder. You dig your hands into the ground and push back against Arthur, your insides on fire. It borders on being painful, but you still can't help begging for more.

Arthur runs his hand over your back and up your neck before he fists his fingers into your hair. The touch alone sends heat waves through your body, and then Arthur pulls. You're forced to lift your head to avoid the pain and hollow your back, lifting your ass even higher in the process.

Using the new angle, Arthur takes you without mercy, holding on to your hair. You're completely under his control, unable to move unless you want it to hurt. Cries of pleasure escape you, and without warning, Arthur pushes you down on the ground.

He only glides out of you to get into a new position, then he forces your legs apart with his own, pushing back into you. You groan when you feel Arthur's weight on you, and he grabs your hair again, making you lift your head.

"Is that what you wanted, sweetheart?" Arthur asks, something dark in his voice.

Before you can answer, he already thrusts into you, and you remember how you talked about being ravished by a wild beast. It seems Arthur finally takes your words to heart. He barely gives you a second to breathe, holding you in that limbo between pain and pleasure, and your only choice is to take what he gives you.

When Arthur finally lets go of your hair, he puts his hand around your throat, and although there's no pressure on it, the gesture alone has you whimpering.

"You're mine now," Arthur says, his breath hot against your ear. "No more joking around with Micah, you understand?"

"I was just-"

Arthur only moves his fingers, and you become quiet, barely able to breathe.

"Try that again," Arthur says, and you swallow hard, sure that Arthur can feel it.

"No Micah," you say, and Arthur hums, satisfied.

He picks up the pace, only interrupting the way he ruts into you to pull back and push in deep, making you cry out each time. By now, you're sure that at least one person in camp must have heard you, but Arthur gives you no chance to think about it.

He's everywhere, his voice, his touch, and his cock, filling you up so good that you're trembling with lust. You feel like you can barely take it anymore when Arthur reaches under you, his fingers pressing against your clit. Trapped between his hand and the constant thrusts, you can't hold on any longer.

"Arthur, I-" you manage to say but break off when your orgasm hits your core and rushes in waves through the rest of your body.

Arthur holds still as your muscles tighten around him, letting you set the pace for now. You push back against him, riding the last waves before your body relaxes and Arthur glides out of you.

He carefully turns you around, cupping your face with his hand. "You're alright?"

You lift your head to kiss him, a big smile hopping onto your face. "More than alright."

"Good," Arthur says, kissing you back, and you reach down between the two of you.

"Come here, big boy."

Arthur moans when you grab his cock, and when he tries to protest, you kiss him and hold on to his neck. This time, it's you who doesn't give him a chance to move, your hand sneaking into his hair.

Arthur curses against your lips as you tuck at a few strands and his cock pulses in your hand. He buries his face against your neck, his hips bucking, and finally, everything goes quiet.

You both take slow breaths before Arthur lies down next to you, staring up into the trees.

"You know, we could have done that months ago," you say, unable to keep the snide out of your voice.

Arthur huffs. It's a single, somewhat defeated sound coming from deep within. "I admit it, I'm an idiot."

You turn to him, running your hand over his chest. "It's my fault, too. I could have been more forward instead of waiting until even Micah made a move."

"I said no Micah," Arthur groans.

"What? If it wasn't for him, you never would have made a move," you tease. "You should thank-"

Arthur moves over so fast that you barely see it before his lips seal yours.

"I thank Micah in hell," he growls, fury in his eyes. "And I think I said no more Micah talk."

"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes, but you can't help the tingling feeling that his voice sends all over your body. "I'll shut up if you make me."

Arthur laughs and leans over you, his lips almost touching yours. He grabs a strand of your hair, letting it run through his fingers. "I think I know just the way to do that."

#arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 smut #rdr2 fanfic #fulfilled requests #my writing #nsft

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writeforfandoms · 3 years

Text

Merry Go Round of Life

Find my masterlist

Okay. This is a Howl’s Moving Castle AU. It’s going to be a mix of both the book and the movie because I adore both of them equally and for different reasons.

Also, no Din yet in this chapter. Sorry not sorry.

This will end up as Din Djarin x f!reader. At some point down the line.

Warnings: Uh. None? Light swearing maybe?

Chapter one: In which a curse is laid

In the land of Concordia, things such as three-league boots existed. Witches and wizards wandered the land. And, if rumors are to be believed, the moving castle has once again started coming down the hills towards Kalevala.

But you weren’t worried. Nobody had actually seen the wizard out and about. Nobody even knew his name, or spoke it. He was only ever the wizard of the moving castle. And nobody had a satisfying explanation for that, either. You’d stopped asking about him years ago.

You didn’t have time to be gossiping about some wizard, anyhow. Your mother-in-law was retired, and both of your sisters had their own lives, leaving the shop to you. Not that you really minded - you’d been raised in this shop, knew it better than anywhere else. You were content with this. Your sisters visited (indeed, Omera still worked in town, having taken over the bakery when the previous owners retired), the shop was busy enough to keep you busy and fed, and things were… calm. Predictable.

But really, you couldn’t complain. You were the youngest of three. You didn’t boast great beauty to match Omera, or great temper to match Cara. You were just… you. One of the best seamstresses in town, yes, but just you. And that was fine. That was… fine.

On this particular morning, you were humming a little as you carefully measured fabric for a dress. This was about the time of year when you were flooded with custom requests for parties and celebrations, and you often ended up taking your work home with you. You had some help in the shop, a young lady to man the front desk and chat with customers, but she was still in training. And you didn’t mind taking work home.

You tutted gently as you set two pieces of fabric together, checking the edges. “Very good,” you muttered to yourself. “You’ll be a handsome one indeed.” Chuckling at your own humor, you began to stitch the edges together. It wasn’t uncommon to find you chattering to yourself (and your sewing) as you worked. You got bored otherwise. The shop girl stayed out front, and you stayed in the back sewing unless you were needed to take measurements or consult.

It didn’t take long for you to have the skirt portion of the dress done. At least, done enough for now. You gently set it aside and stretched, rolling your shoulders and cracking your neck before you pulled the fabric over again to make the next cuts.

“At least the fabric is nice,” you murmured, gently running a hand along the rose-pink fabric to smooth it. “You’ll make a fine dress for the May Day dance.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Your own dress (if you had time for it this year) was already squirreled away in your bedroom, and had been ready for a while. You’d made sure Omera was taken care of, too. Cara was on her own - you didn’t even know if she’d be home for the festival this year.

You heard the bell over the door of the shop ring, but paid it no mind. Someone would yell if they needed you. Humming again, you picked up your sewing scissors, the nice heavy pair, and started cutting fabric.

“Hey, Vee.” You could hear the customer from where you sat, but you still didn’t move. Did you sometimes listen to gossip while you worked? Sure. Not your fault they were gossiping in your hearing range. “Have you seen the castle?”

A gasp as your assistant, Vee, caught on to the subject. “No! I haven’t been out to the edge of town.”

“The castle is right out there!” the customer told her in an excited murmur. “You can see it clearly, just over the hill outside of town.”

“So close?” Vee asked in a hushed tone. “What’s he doing?”

“Don’t know,” the customer replied. “Mother thinks he’s looking for someone.”

You snorted very quietly to yourself. He was a wizard. You doubted anyone in Kalevala would hold any interest for someone like him. Not that you’d actually met many (or any) wizards but you’d read plenty about them. And this place? Probably didn’t have anybody of interest to an actual wizard.

“Maybe he’ll come to the festivities,” Vee said dreamily.

“Maybe,” the customer hummed, sounding unconvinced. On this, you sided with her - you doubted seriously the wizard would show up to May Day. Ha! That would be a sight.

“Silly girls, the both of them,” you murmured to the dress. “But they’re young, I suppose they’re allowed to be silly.”

It wasn’t long after that when the customer left, and Vee went back to her tasks. You shook your head and refocused on your sewing. If you weren’t interrupted, you could have this dress done in another day.

Vee left at her normal time, and you closed up the shop. Nobody else had interrupted you, and you let out a sigh of relief once things were locked up tight. You worked for another hour or so by candlelight in the shop, and then carried a couple little things upstairs to work on in your apartment. Your apartment wasn’t much - a bedroom, kitchen/living area combo, and simple bathroom situated above the shop. But it was yours, and you didn’t have to share with anyone.

As much as you loved your sisters, you had been more than ready to strangle them by the time they moved out.

A glance at the calendar on the wall showed that you had exactly one week left until May Day. Plenty of time to finish the last two dresses, and any last-minute adjustments that came in. You stretched briefly and ambled into the kitchen to make some dinner.

The week passed as expected. You got your last two gowns done. You fixed and rehemmed and tweaked dresses for other customers. You even dealt with the one near-hysterical woman who came in the day before May Day a wreck because her toddler had ripped off some of the fabric roses on her dress. (That one was not an easy fix, and you gently scolded the dress for giving in to some toddler.)

May Day was always one of the biggest celebrations of the year, full of flowers and bright colors. You donned your dress, the “closed” sign already hung up in the shop window, and ventured out into the streets.

Things got more crowded the closer you got to the center of town, and soon you were dodging folks out making merry. You didn’t stop to join any of them, intent on your goal: your sister’s bakery. You’d been craving one of the cream cakes for weeks, and you were determined to get one.

A group of well-dressed young men stumbled out of a tavern in front of you, and one of them made a teasing comment that you only half paid attention to. You simply looked at him and then away, dismissing him and striding on. Honestly. Boys.

Finally, you made it to the bakery and (more or less) gently pushed your way inside. Omera was at the counter, handling payments and handing over cakes as fast as she could. She paused for a moment when she saw you before she smiled widely and called your name.

“Do you have a minute?” you shouted back at her over the dull roar inside the shop.

“I can spare one,” she replied, ushering you along the counter until she could lift up a flap for you. Grabbing your hand, she pulled you into the back of the bakery, nabbing a cream cake with her free hand.

“How many proposals have you had today?” you asked, teasing her gently. She was beautiful, and widowed a few years ago.

“I stopped counting after five,” she replied primly. “Sit and eat that.”

Grinning, you took the cake and sat down. “The dress looks good on you.”

“You knew it would.” She obligingly twirled for you though, showing off the whole thing. You nodded to yourself. Some of your finest work, probably. You’d be disappointed if the day ended without Omera receiving at least a dozen proposals. “Your dress is a little more plain this year, sister.”

“Hmm.” You stuffed a bite of cake in your mouth to buy yourself a little time. Which might have backfired on you, as Omera raised an eyebrow at you. You grimaced, just a little, and she huffed.

“Are you content to run the shop alone, then?”

“Maybe,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I haven’t--it hasn’t come up, recently.” You shuffled a little where you sat, uncomfortable now.

Omera softened a little. “You could have just as many proposals, if you wanted,” she reminded you, reaching over to tweak your ear gently. “You needn’t stay at the shop by yourself.” Her smile turned teasing. “I’d even take you on as an apprentice.”

“Apprentice!” you shot back, mock-outraged. “I have spent more than enough time in your kitchen to do better than that!”

“I seem to recall someone eating all the cookie batter one day and getting sick,” she shot back. The two of you collapsed into giggles for a few moments, until someone shouted for Omera. Then she sighed. “That would be the end of my break. I’ll come see you at the shop, okay?”

“Sure,” you agreed, standing and pulling her into a hug.

“Just think about it,” she whispered in your ear. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

You released her and made your way out of the bakery. More revellers filled the streets now, and your feet were trod on more than once as you made your way back home slowly. As night fell, bright blue and green fireworks shot into the air from outside of town, causing a great deal of commotion. Certainly they came from the wizard, but why nobody knew. You didn’t bother yourself overmuch with pondering, either.

The week after May Day continued quietly. This was to be expected - hardly anyone would need anything except minor alterations and repairs so soon after a holiday. You’d given Vee two weeks off to spend with her family and her intended, and so you were stuck manning the store instead.

The bell over the door tinkled and you looked up from a pair of socks you were repairing, and then paused. The woman who walked in was… odd. Very, very odd. For one thing, she was carrying a helmet propped against her hip, and she wore armor in blue and gray. Her hair was red and short, pulled back from her face. Her clothing under the armor was dark and nondescript - trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, essentially.

You blinked at her, nonplussed for a moment, and then stood up straight behind the counter. “Can I help you?”

“That remains to be seen.” She stepped closer to the counter, giving you a quick once-over. “You are the seamstress who made the dress for the baker? Omera, I believe her name is.”

You blinked again. “Yes.” It wasn’t unheard of for customers to refer to your other work, but it wasn’t exactly common, either.

She hummed acknowledgement of that and looked you over again. You had no idea what she was looking for, but she must not have found it, because she gave you a rather derisive look. “You’ll do.” She murmured something too low for you to hear, although it didn’t sound like Common to your ears, and flung one hand towards you, as if flinging water at you. Something cold dripped down your scalp, and you blinked rapidly at a feeling almost like vertigo. “There. That ought to do it.” She turned away sharply, and paused just before the door. “You won’t be able to tell anyone you’re under a curse, in case you were wondering.” And with that she was gone, out of the shop as quickly as she’d entered it.

#merry go round of life #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #howl's moving castle au

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shyrose57 · 2 years

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Tubbo dies on Doomsday. Rose is born in the aftermath.

Both of them know the consequences of being torn apart. Both of them know that the god’s game has gone too far.

And with everyone else unaware, it falls on them to help set it right.

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

Or, Ghostbo AU, with some twists.

There’s no green festival confrontation, or a Finale. Tommy stays with Techno and Phil, and doesn’t face Dream yet.

Tubbo dies on Doomsday, via the Wither effect. It wasn’t immediate, spreading slowly enough that he only died a bit after the fighting was over, and mostly everyone had left.

With all of the other death messages, and the general chaos, nobody noticed it.

He dies resigned, and the ghost that wakes up above him seems to feel only that.

Here’s the thing though. Ghosts aren’t natural. At least, not like this. Not how it is.

Normal ghosts are lost spirits. But this? This, Tubbo realizes, a strange emptiness in the side of his chest, is a piece of their soul being torn off. This, the ghost knows deep in it’s being, is very, very wrong. This, is someone tampering with thinhs they shouldn’t be.

Sometimes, Wither roses bloom on the graves of those who die. Tubbo didn’t have a grave before his ghost buried him, and the ghost is no flower, but nonetheless, they have their similarities. The same dangerous decay the flower inflicts flickers over it’s form, so it thinks it might be alright to take it on as a namesake.

With his existence now stable, and his identity more settled, Rose finds the place where the veil is weakest in this world. One day, they’ll call it Snowchester.

For now, it’s the place where he can dip his fingers into the sea, call on the magic ingrained into his memory, and search until the waters shift and Tubbo comes into view, entrapped in a garden with too many walls.

They talk, and share their knowledge, putting together the pieces a certain god has been scattering about-it’s too easy, but then again, he was never worried about the pawn going looking.

Dream’s somehow tampered with the world, locking it off from Death, and her realm with the hellish place he’s called limbo, trapping souls from ever straying outside the world.

But only Death’s realm is supposed to host souls, so a place like limbo causes issues, ripping at the soul as it drags them within, and unintentionally creating ‘ghosts’.

It’s pretty obvious that this can’t go on. But even Death’s own have been blocked off from her, unable to be warned of the dangers to do away with them. Unaware of the targets on their back because of one god’s greed and arrogance.

So now it’s up to a boy trapped in limbo, a deadly ghost, and a couple of others gathered on the way, to put things right. They’re probably going to fail horrifically, but they have to at least try.

Other things:

SBI are all together, generally plotting to cause chaos and trying to figure out how to ‘revive’ Wilbur.

Nobody realizes Tubbo’s dead until Fundy and Jack run into each other, and end up deciding to check in on him, only to be met with Rose trying to make tools that won’t decay in his hands.

Since all the ghosts are pieces of people’s souls, now those people don’t really have those pieces anymore. Rose is the destructive part of Tubbo, the cold, distant part of him that would rather do away with threats before they become such. It’s somewhat tempered by the constant resignation hanging over him, but even that can only do so much.

Likewise, Ghostbur was the happy, relaxed part of Wilbur, and so on.

Tubbo’s limbo is a garden maze with walls of high stone that make getting places pretty impossible, but it’s fine. He doesn’t move too much anyway.

Dream’s trying to trap all of the SBI in limbo. He started with Wilbur, and now he’s targeting Tommy, though that’s a bit harder with him always with one of the others, but he’ll figure it out he’s sure.

Snowchester’s cozy spruce ends up replaced with a lot of stone, since wood straight up rots under Rose’s touch. Having a constant wither effect makes a lot of things more challenging.

Eret, Foolish, Fundy, Jack, and Ranboo are part of the ‘stop Dream from whatever the fuck he’s done’ squad with Rose and Tubbo. Which probably technically makes them part of Snowchester too. Hm.

Ghostbur is determined to meet the new ghost on the server. Rose is determined to avoid him, lest he inform the rest of his family and make things even harder for them all to get stuff done.

#Gateway To The Underworld AU #dream smp #dream smp au #tubbo

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motherjoel · 3 years

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ugly christmas sweaters (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: after your parents leave you alone for christmas, spencer tries to brighten your mood

a/n: this is me trying to start writing again and it is truly not my best work AT ALLLLLL but I was in the christmas spirit so here is... something

wc: 2.5k

warnings/includes: too much fluff, reader is basically an elf, spencer is so sexy and sweet and nice and hot

Spencer had noticed the way your demeanor was shifted today- the normal glimmer that lived in your eyes had diminished into a dull gaze as you flipped through the mounds of files in front of you. This was out of character for you, especially during the holiday season. You were known as the office elf during December, constantly bringing in freshly baked cookies and stringing tinsel over your teammates computers. Today however, there was no sparkle in your eye and you weren’t wearing your normal Christmas sweaters (Spencer’s favorite was the one that said “Hydroxide, Hydroxide, Hydroxide! Merry Christmas!” with a glitter Santa in the middle). It took him until lunchtime to finally do something about it. As you poured yourself another cup of coffee into an un-festive mug, he took the opportunity to ask you about your change in enthusiasm.

“Hey Y/N, is… is everything okay?” he asked, grabbing the coffee pot from you and refilling his own mug. You took a long sip before rubbing your temple with a sigh.

“Yeah, I…” you started before seeing Spencer's suspiciously raised eyebrow. “No, okay? I’m not! Because every year my parents come to visit and help me decorate my apartment and we go to pick out a Christmas tree and we make our own peppermint bark and chocolate chip cookies and… well, they’re going on a stupid cruise! They left yesterday and they won't be back until New Years, and it just... sucks.” you finished, noticing that you spilled half of your coffee onto the ground from your wild gesticulations. Spencer stared at you for a moment, wide-eyed, before snapping out of his daze to grab a wad of paper towels to clean up your mess.

“Well, I…” he started, kneeling to sop up the mess, “I know this probably won’t help, but I-I’m not busy this weekend!” he said, standing up to throw out the wet paper towels as you cleaned up the extra coffee that spilled onto the counter.

“Well, neither am I. Because my stupid parents-” you started to go into another rant which was cut off by Spencer before you could continue.

“No, Y/N, I meant I’m not busy this weekend so what if… we did something festive? You know, your parents aren’t home and nobody should be alone for the holidays. What if we went to get you a Christmas tree? And I’m not the best at baking, but-” he started to suggest before you tightly wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest.

“Thank you,” you said, muffled into his cardigan. Spencer was thankful you couldn’t see the blush dusted on his cheeks. You pulled away after a moment, but the warmth of your embrace lingered with Spencer for longer than he’d like to admit. “Thats really sweet of you Spence, but you don’t have to do that for me,” you said as you refilled your mug.

“But I want to!” he said, a little too loudly. You gave him a look before he continued. “Seriously, I mean i’ve never really made a big deal about the holidays but, it could be fun!” he smiled dorkily as the sparkle in your eyes reignited a bit.

“Spence, that is… so sweet. We’re gonna have so much fun, I promise. When are you free?” you asked.

“Uh, always?” he said as you laughed, suddenly feeling very self conscious about his word choice. “I mean, not always, I, uh, I do things?” he defended, not even convincing himself.

“Don’t worry, nobody in the BAU has any social life,” you reassured him. “How about… today? I know it's kinda soon but you got me really excited and since it’s Friday and we’re off this weekend we can get all of our shopping and decorating done! Sorry, I seem crazy” you laughed. Spencer ignored the pang in his chest at the angelic coo of your laughter.

“You’re not crazy, it's cute,” he laughed before he realized what he had just said, coughing to fill the ensuing silence. “I mean, sure, that sounds great,” he smiled as he watched you head back to your desk, coffee in hand and a newfound spring in your step

Hours had passed since your conversation at the coffee machine and you were just about ready to leave work, your stack of finished paperwork mounds taller than it had been at the beginning of the day. With a satisfied sigh, you looked to Spencer’s desk to see it was empty- he definitely hadn’t left, his jacket hanging on his chair, but he wasn’t in the bullpen. After looking around for a few moments, a bright light caught your eye from the bullpen entrance.

“Oh my god,” Emily laughed, leaning back in her chair.

“Wow,” JJ laughed. You turned your attention to where they were looking to see Spencer, wearing the most ridiculous Christmas tree light-up hat with a decadent mug of hot chocolate balancing in his hands.

“What is this!” you yelled, springing out of your seat and running up to him, admiring his hat.

“I thought you could use a pick me up,” he blushed as you reached up and pressed a button near his ear that made the hat sing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

“Pretty boy is whipped,” Morgan remarked, not-so-subtly as he received a glare from pretty boy himself.

“Spencer, I love it,” you smiled as he handed you the mug of cocoa, which you accepted gratefully.

“I’m glad,” he smiled watching you sip from the mug, giving yourself a whipped cream mustache. “Oh, you’ve got a little…” he said, gesturing to his upper lip.

“Huh?” you said, attempting and failing to lick it off.

“Here,” he said, reaching out to wipe the remaining cream off your upper lip without thinking, licking it off his finger. You were honestly shocked- he didn't like touching people, although you were often an exception, but this was a new level. He didn’t seem to notice the gasps coming from the team as he grabbed his things to leave the office. You decided to ignore the gesture- you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, risking that he wouldn’t touch you like that again.

“Ready to go?” you asked after finishing your drink.

“Yup,” he smiled, following you to the elevator and leaving behind a shocked group of FBI agents.

The elevator was filled with your excited rambling as you made your descent to the parking lot.

“So I was thinking that since it’s already a little late we can just order some chinese food and bake cookies, but tomorrow, we can get a tree and decorate my apartment?” you smiled at Spencer, not taking notice of his entranced gaze. “We can also decorate your apartment too of course, I think I have some extra tinsel and lights,” you said as the elevator doors opened.

“Oh, we don’t have to do mine, I’m not really one for that kind of thing,” he stammered, following you to your cars.

“Nonsense! I’m not gonna be living in a winter wonderland while you’re living in a dark library. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just want to spread the Christmas cheer,” you clarified, getting into your car after telling Spencer to follow you to your apartment. He couldn’t help the racing of his heart as he drove- he didn’t need to follow you, already knowing where you lived from his many previous visits.

After putting his car in park, Spencer headed over to your parked car a few spots over where you were reaching far into the trunk.

“I took these from my parents house when they bailed on me,” you said, rummaging through your packed car. “Here!” you exclaimed, pulling out a pile of Christmas lights and decorations. Grabbing most of the pile, Spencer followed you up to your apartment, smiling at the skip in your step. After struggling for a moment to unlock the door, you finally pushed it open with your hip and set the lights you were holding onto your counter.

“Stay right here,” you said to Spencer with a mischievous smirk, running into your bedroom. He made himself busy by sorting through the pile of decorations, discovering a homemade Santa Claus that seemed like an enthusiastic 6 year old made it. He didn’t have much time to observe his find before you came running back into the room wearing a Christmas sweater. Not just any sweater, but Spencer’s favorite- Hydroxide, hydroxide, hydroxide.

“It’s your favorite!” you giggled, doing a twirl for him to get the full effect.

“Wow, it looks great,” he smiled as you handed him a wrapped box. “What’s this?” he said, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, just an early Christmas present. Consider it a thank you for helping me out,” you smiled, urging him to open it. He did so, carefully ripping the wrapping paper off to open the box, revealing the exact same sweater you were wearing.

“Is this…?” he said, slowly pulling the sweater out of the box.

“It is! I thought we could be twins,” you laughed as he observed the sweater, open-mouthed in half shock, half adoration.

“I love it y/n,” he said, still shocked that you noticed his admiration towards the sweater.

“Go put it on!” you suggested, laughing at Spencer’s wide eyed stare as you ushered him into the bathroom. By the time he came out, you’d already gathered all of the cookie ingredients and were preparing for the night of baking ahead of you. Spencer emerged with a nervous smile, eyebrows raised for your approval. You ignored the pang in your heart at the sight.

“Wow, you look great!” you laughed, walking over to him after noticing a tag sticking out at the back of his neck. “Hold on, lemme just…” you started, tongue darting out in focus as you tried to rip the tag out. “Bend down,” you ordered, amused by the blush dusted across his cheeks as he slowly knelt. Without thinking, you leant down and tugged at the tag with your teeth, eventually ripping it off. “Aha!” you exclaimed with pride, tag in hand.

“Thank you,” he clamored to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“We look hot,” you joked, grabbing his hand and twirling him around a bit, the blush never leaving his cheeks. “You know, I don’t like the phrase ‘ugly christmas sweater.’ I actually think they’re quite charming! It’s like, why discriminate against an entire clothing item just because it’s not the most flattering! They have personality.”

“Did you know that ugly Christmas sweaters became popular in the 50s?” Spencer started, encouraged by the interest in your eyes. “After the mass commercialization of Christmas, “jingle bell sweaters” were invented which soon came to be known as the ‘ugly’ Christmas sweater,” he said, following you into the kitchen.

“How did you know that? I mean I know you know everything but where did you even read that?” You laughed, pouring some ingredients into the mixer.

“Oh, well I know how much you like Christmas, so… I did some light reading about it. Did you know that Jingle Bells was originally meant to be a Thanksgiving song?” he said, too focused on his measuring cup to notice your in-awe stare.

“I think I love you,” you blurted before slapping your hand over your mouth. Spencer choked on his own oxygen, blowing a gust of flour around the kitchen and all over your face. The silence that followed felt thicker than the cloud of flour you were currently trying not to choke on.

“I-I’m sorry, but what did you just say?” Spencer asked in a daze, white powder settling onto the front of his new sweater.

“Um, I didn’t- didn’t say anything!” you tried to play off the moment, busying your nervous hands by frantically swiping the flour off the counter and into the trash can.

“Y/N, um, did you just say that you…” he pressed on, wincing almost.

“You know what, just forget I said anything Spence! Of course I love you, you’re my best friend, it’s no big deal,” you said, dusting the rest of the flower off your own sweater.

“Oh. Yeah, of course, um. I’ll just… get the eggs,” he muttered, shuffling to the fridge. After a few moments of silence, you decided that you had nothing to lose.

“Spence?” you asked.

“Mm?” he hummed, focusing intensely on cracking an egg.

“I love you,” you said, setting down the spoon you were mixing with.

“Yeah, you said that Y/N. I love you too,” he smiled, lips pressed tightly together in a way that signaled he wasn’t saying everything that was on his mind, which he most definitely wasn’t.

“No, god this is not how I wanted to tell you. I wasn’t actually ever going to tell you but maybe the Christmas spirit is making me go crazy. I love you love you. Like, how… Mrs. Claus loves Santa,” you laughed nervously as silence filled the room. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said anything,” you apologized while avoiding his stare.

“You… love me love me?” he asked, corners of his lips curling into a soft smile.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, popping a chocolate chip into your mouth. That was when the laughing started. Spencer almost doubled over in laughter, his shocked expression shifting into amused disbelief. “Well you don’t have to laugh at me for being in love with you,” you huffed, irritated at his response. He quickly composed himself.

“No! I'm not laughing at you, I’m laughing at the situation,” he said, wringing his hands together. You raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. “God, Y/N, I mean was it not obvious?” he asked, smiling once again.

“What, Spence? You’re creeping me out,” you said warily.

“You are the sweetest, most beautiful person I have ever met. I think everyone who has ever met you has fallen in love with you,” he said, stepping forward a bit, encouraged by your entranced stare. “You are the only person I would spend the weekend baking and decorating with, I-I mean… wow. I can’t believe you’re in love with me,” he smiled, almost giddy at the thought. As you snapped out of your trance, you hit him lightly on the arm. “What?” he asked, grabbing his arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me you idiot!” you laughed, almost jumping into his arms. He was taken aback but he quickly brought his arms around you, pulling your body flush with his.

“I never thought you felt the same,” he whispered into your hair before pulling away. You looked him in the eyes for a moment before leaning in slowly.

“I always have,” you whispered before he connected your lips, the two of you finally melting into each other after your years of pining.

shoot me an ask or message to be on my taglist! :)

taglist: @rigatonireid, @yesimaunicorn, @aworldoffandoms, @herestherealproblem, @moonshinerbynight, @averyhotchner

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid/OC #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Reid #emily prentiss #Jennifer Jareau

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

Ghost of jealousy [Possessive! America x reader]

Wordcount: 5,545 Synopsis: Alfred gets upset when he finds you hanging around Mathias during his Halloween party. You tell him he’s your friend, but everything escalates into an argument, so he takes it outside to his car. He regrets everything he’s done, but you refuse to talk to him while he drives off to find some lodging for the night—an old inn. While you avoid him by staying in a separate room, it becomes apparent there’s something very off about this place. Something otherworldly. Will he make it up to you by saving you before something terrible happens?

(I was inspired by this song by Michael Jackson, “Ghosts”) The reader is referred to as she/her.

It didn’t bother you that Alfred always disappeared during his parties. He was the host, after all, and you were merely another attendee, boyfriend or not. There were guests to interact with, excitement to arouse, and the general gist of event-running. So while he was off doing his business, you loitered around in the kitchen with one of your friends. You were dressed as a mermaid, with a seashell bra and all, while Mathias was in his pirate get-up.

Here away from the incessant pounding of Halloween classics and chatter, you could actually hear him talk. "I think it’s cute that we’re matching! Are you sure you didn’t wear this on purpose just so we could look like a couple?" He grinned, earning a small gasp from you.

"Hey! It’s not my problem you wear the same thing every year, Mathias. I—on the other hand, change it up." You gloated a little at that, giving his hip a light bump. He had been sipping a cup of punch, but spilled some as a result. "Ah! Jeez.” Because it was so dark, with only jack-o-lanterns and fairy lights to illuminate the house, you never even realized.

"What’s wrong?”

"Why don’t you smell my coat to find out?” He hummed mischievously. Cupping a hand around your head, he pulled you in and pressed your face against a mysterious wet patch.

"Ew! What was that?!" You pulled away and rubbed your cheek as he exploded into a fit of laughter.

"... Juice?"

"That’s right, min prinsesse. And it’s all your fault." Leaning in with his hands on his hips, he tapped your nose. A dash of guilt was present in your eyes, so he quickly added this. "Don’t look so stressed, (F/N)! I always forgive what you do to me. Mostly. This time, if you wanna make up for it, you’ll have to go to our after-party for once!"

You blinked. "After-party? You mean with just you and Lukas and everyone?" He nodded excitedly. The question was innocent enough, but really, you had another concern in the back of your mind. Every year, you and Alfred would spend a night together after the festivities. You could only imagine how upset he’d get if that didn’t happen. He always valued the time together with you, even to the point of being a little excessive. "Mm... I don’t know. Alfred and I usually do something afterward. I’ll ask him."

His wide grin faltered a touch. Alfred this, Alfred that. Mathias couldn’t exactly say he was jealous—though he’d joke about it, a lot—but wasn’t he a little controlling sometimes? "Mm, mm. Not good enough. I won’t take no for an answer!" Scooping you up in a bridal style carry, you let out a small yelp and reached out for his neck to stabilize yourself. "Let the King of Scandinavia save you from the evil clutches of American capitalism!"

"Mathias, you idiot!" You hissed through a flustered expression, but you couldn’t deny you were enjoying yourself. While he laughed away, bouncing you in his arms, you bonked him on the head numerous times. "Put. Me. Down!"

"Ow. Ah! Okay, okay, stop hitting me!" The Dane was as big of a goofball as your boyfriend, but just less serious most of the time. That was right. As your relationship with Alfred progressed, he was less easy-going than he initially seemed. More stubborn. Argumentative. And you never imagined how soon you would see this side of him.

"What’s this about saving (F/N) from the evil clutches of American capitalism?"

The chorus of you and Mathias’s laughter came to an abrupt end. Uh oh. Turning to the voice, you found yourself staring at none other than your boyfriend, dressed in a long orange coat with a Jason Vorhee's mask on the side of his head. And his arms were crossed with an unamused expression. Only then did you feel yourself get set down to the floor. Great. "Alfred, hey! We were just talking about his after-party. You know, the one where they have a lego-building contest?"

"Mhm. Sounds fun. But we’re doing something even better." Reaching out to your hand, he pulled you away from your friend, much to your displeasure. Mathias didn’t look all too happy either. Alfred then managed a small smile, but it was a little strained. "So c’mon, babe. Most of the party’s events are ending, anyway. Let’s go to my car." He squeezed you in his grip and turned to leave, all with you in tow.

But you weren’t having it. Couldn’t he at least let you explain yourself a little better, considering how upset he seemed already? You stopped, the action pulling on his arm so he would too. "Wait, Al. He asked if I wanted to go, and I kinda want to. Just this one time, please? Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil are gonna be there too—" The fact that you were listing all these names only made it blatantly obvious who was in right, and who was in the wrong.

All you were asking for was some time with your friends. But he played the jealous boyfriend role all too well.

He turned to you with a frown. It was annoying enough to see Mathias carrying you like that. But going to a sleepover with him? He couldn’t be any less enthusiastic. "No, (F/N). Halloween is our thing. We’re supposed to spend the night together like we always do." Reaching out to your cheek, he caressed it gently. "You can hang out with them any other day of the year. Just not today."

Unlike other times, you didn’t give in. He already showed up with an attitude, so sweet-talking wasn’t going to cut it. Especially when you felt Mathias’s hand on your shoulder. The thought that he was behind you and trying to calm you down only egged you on to stand your ground. "Any other day? You’d have to exclude Valentine’s Day, Christmas, New Year’s, and St. Patty’s as well. I never get to celebrate them with my friends, either, so can’t you let me go this one time?"

The room fell silent. Even with the Dane’s friends present, nobody spoke a word. And nobody had to because they all shared one thought.

Alfred was being way too controlling.

Almost as if he could read their minds, he felt himself crumble under their scrutiny. "I’m not talking about this here with you." Without another word, he pulled you out of the house against your will.

"And why not? Is it because Mathias is here?" You retorted, feeling bile rise in your throat.

Once you and he disappeared out the door, Lukas made a brief comment.

"... He really has to stop doing that."

“Yep. Man, I wish he’d just step on a lego." The blonde heaved out a sigh.

"Fair enough."

Once Alfred managed to get you outside his car, he turned to you to finally give you an answer. "And what if it is because he’s there, (F/N)?" He exasperated, already feeling his tongue start slipping now that he was alone with you. And his words only held more impact against the deafening silence of the night. "The reason why I don’t want you hanging out with them on special occasions is cuz’ he’s in the group.”

“Why? Do you hate him or something? But that’s got nothing to do with me!" You ripped your hand from his grip to see his eyes widen with shock. This was the first time you ever lashed out, so he could already feel the inklings of regret well in his chest. He should’ve just shut his trap and let you go.

But something told him he would’ve never let that happen.

"They’re my friends, Alfred! You can’t expect me to pass on every invite they give me just because you don’t like someone!"

He dug his hands through his sandy locks of hair stressfully.

"That’s the thing! Mathias obviously doesn’t just wanna be friends with you! He likes you, I can tell!" He yelled.

The cat was finally out of the bag now. What had been plaguing his mind for months was this—competition. And he hoped that admitting it would somehow get you to understand his behavior, no matter how uncalled for it had been.

But you didn’t. You refused to.

Your jaw dropped, but not out of surprise. Instead, it was pure disappointment. "Even if he did, are you saying you don’t trust me with him?" You scoffed, folding your arms at him.

At this point, Alfred knew how bad he fucked up.

"No, that’s not what I—" His brows knitted together, and his cerulean blue eyes welled with moisture. "I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just..." But it was.

Wasn’t it?

Otherwise, why else was he so possessive of you?

"It’s exactly what you meant. If it wasn’t, you’d be defending yourself by now." A small smile curled up at your lips, and it was from anything but mirth. It was your defense mechanism to keep the waterworks at bay, but even that had failed you. The tears finally came spilling over the rim, streaming down your face as he watched on with guilt.

"Even if you hate him, he’s not what you think he is. It wouldn’t matter if he loved me. He wouldn’t do anything because he respects me." Reaching up to your eyes, you rubbed them, but the effort was in vain as you let out a sob. "If you’re so quick to doubt me, then maybe..." You struggled to string together the words as you continued to cry. "Maybe we shouldn’t..."

Maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore.

Alfred froze. Anything but that. And yet, you had all the right in the world to think of ending things. But his heart couldn’t take it.

"No, no, no... Don’t you finish that sentence..." You would probably hate him after this, but kissing you was what he first thought of. The connection between his and your lips managed to silence you, and the close proximity let you feel the waves of heat radiating from his face. And he continued to kiss you, gently, for as long as you let him until you decided to shove him away.

"Don’t." You whispered faintly, albeit firmly. Leaving his side to get into the passenger seat of his car, you buckled yourself up and turned to the window.

He breathed out a sigh, but joined you in the driver’s seat. Facing you with remorse so deep, it made his eyes droop. "You know I love you, right?"

You were still crying, and you never spared him so little as a single glance.

He royally screwed up, for sure.

The engine purred to life. Now, to find a place to stay for the night. Hopefully, he could make up with you before lights out. But his gut told him it wouldn’t be so simple. The car began to move, crushing sticks and leaves under the wheels as he drove on a dirt path deep in the woods. He picked this cabin for the ominous ambiance, but he was beginning to regret his choices. The same could be said for everything he did tonight, hell, the same could be said for how he acted all these months.

He was the jealous, insecure, shitty boyfriend.

And the whole time, he never realized how kind you were to put up with him.

He wanted to tell you he trusted you. To pull you into his arms and apologize a million times. But what could he say to convince you when he’d come off as a liar? Even he didn’t know if he could be honest. Why did Mathias’s presence get him to feel like this, anyway? He boiled it down to how similar he was to him. Like you always said, he and Mathias were two of the same person. Loud, fun, and obnoxious sweethearts. So of course he started comparing himself to him.

And he was doing it right now. He couldn’t imagine Mathias ever having these kinds of problems if he dated you. Fuck. Aside from self-loathing and bitter regret, he was beginning to feel the beginnings of ugly jealousy all over again.

Are you serious right now, Alfred? He thought.

Narrowing his eyes on the road that seemed to disappear, he slowed to a stop. Was it just him losing concentration over these thoughts, or did he really lose his way? Perhaps. But at least he found something. He peered around his windshield to see a few rooftops resembling an old, vintage villa in the distance. Could that possibly be a motel?

He sped up and drove closer and closer until he reached a clearing. Climbing out of his car with you trailing close behind, he made his way to the entrance of the establishment. There was an open lawn in front of the building, and in one of the gardens stood a wooden sign with "The Aura Inn" inscribed into it. Neither of you thought much of it, let alone read the little sub-paragraph of text below it.

"Let’s go." Looking at you over his shoulder, he held out a hand for you to take. You just brushed past him and kept walking. Right. He forgot for a second that you were mad at him.

The only thing that concerned you was having somewhere to stay the night, so the reception was the first stop. Making up with him could come later.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by nothing but an empty room. There was no furniture besides a wooden counter, and even then, it was lacking quite a few amenities. There was no receptionist here either, and yet, the lights were on. That could only mean one thing. Somebody was here, just not in a way you liked. But you were just overthinking, weren’t you? Needless to say, this inn was starting to feel a little off to you.

Gripping the scales of your mermaid dress, you turned to Alfred with a nervous glance. Immediately, he responded with a reassuring smile.

"You okay, babe?"

Hold on. Did he just call you babe? Your mood went sour when you felt yourself nearly give in to him. What he did couldn’t be forgiven so easily, otherwise, how could he take your feelings seriously? So you forced yourself to lie.

"Yes." You murmured. "I’m perfectly fine."

He knew you were lying, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Okay. I’ll just... Get us a room. I think this is an Airbnb." He pulled out his phone.

The thought of sleeping in the same bed as him irked you, to say the least. After the stunt he pulled today, which effectively stopped you from going to Mathias’s after-party, you needed some space. That was right. How come after all these years, you’ve never been to one of his infamous after-parties? Even though you were a close friend of his? It was simple. Because Alfred never let you go. God, thinking about it just made you relive the anger all over again.

So before he finished the booking, you reached out for his arm.

"Wait. I don’t want to be in the same room as you."

He paused, and you saw sadness flash in his eyes. And once again, you found yourself tempted to cave. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"... Oh. Sure." Alfred finished with the online forms and walked you to your room. The halls were long, winding, and dimly-lit. You would’ve thanked him for accompanying you in this unsettling place, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Once you managed to open the door, which wasn’t locked, he gave you a reluctant goodbye. Resting his arms against the doorframe, he gazed down at you with a bittersweet smile. "Night, babe. I’ll see you in the morning—"

The door slammed in his face and he cringed.

"... Love you too." He murmured, clenching his fists against the door. This was by far the worst argument he’s ever had with you, and it was all his fault.

Pressing your back against the door, you felt blood rush up to your face after hearing what he said. He nearly had you. But you managed to seal yourself away in the safety of your room. It hurt to push him away, but you had to. He couldn’t keep having his way. Alfred needed to accept the consequences of his actions, and you needed to be strong enough for that to happen.

And plus, he needed to get used to not having you around him all the time. But the boy was excessively clingy, and you let this carry on for far too long.

Unpacking your things on the bed, you got your things ready for a shower. As you melted into the hot embrace of the water, your concerns of this inn melted away too. It was just Halloween jitters, wasn’t it? Turning off the faucet, you dried yourself off with a towel before getting dressed. When you exited the bathroom, your room was plunged into almost pitch-black darkness. But you never turned off the lights.

Perhaps this was an energy-saving function.

Well, it saved you from the effort of going to the light switch, anyhow.

Before you moved from your spot, you shuddered at the feeling of a cold draft blowing against your body. Looking over to the source, you were shocked to see that the door was wide open, letting the dim halls stare back at you.

There was probably a little wind tonight, and somehow, you didn’t shut the door properly. Making your way to close it again, you made sure you heard a little click. When you did, you didn’t feel any wind from outside at all, not even a gentle breeze.

Weird.

Setting your things down on the bedside table, you climbed into bed and tucked yourself in. While you made yourself comfortable, you faced the entirety of the room, which had a small wall-mounted TV, rocking chair, and desk. Of course there was a rocking chair. And you somehow couldn’t tear your gaze away from its faint outline in the dark.

Then, it began to rock.

Forwards and backward as if an invisible entity was sitting in it.

“!” Your blood ran cold and you buried your head underneath the blanket. Something was in the room with you. Unlike before, you couldn’t blame it on the wind because you just closed the door. As you came to terms with that reality, the icy hands of fear gripped around your heart. Your breathing grew ragged and uneven. There was something behind you. Someone behind you.

You could practically feel their presence creeping towards you. Closer and closer to your bed as the carpet compressed under its footsteps. Your chest constricted when you felt the bed dip under a weight.

Then, it began to crawl.

But you were too terrified to scream, let alone move.

In that moment, you never regretted your decisions this much in your life. And you never wished more for Alfred to be with you.

Unbeknownst to him as he finished up with his own shower in his room, you were left paralyzed in bed. If he’d known what was happening, he would have run to you as fast as he could. But he didn’t. He only assumed you were busy brooding over him, and maybe even second-guessing your relationship with him. The thought was reasonable, and that upset him to no end. Throwing his towel to a random spot in the room, he fell on his back onto the bed.

Reaching out to the ceiling to stare at his arm, he sighed.

“I’m so sorry...” He murmured, lowering his hands to cover his face with them.

If he was lucky, he’d be able to make up with you by the end of tomorrow. But for now, he was burdened with uncertainty. But his attention was quickly diverted to something else. A laugh. Your laugh. Sitting up with visible confusion, he listened in to the muffled sounds of your voice down the hall.

The walls here were thin, so it didn’t surprise him he could hear you so clearly.

But what did was what he heard next. Another voice talking, and it belonged to a boy. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he registered it as someone he knew. Mathias. Wait a second, what the hell was he doing here? But there was no way he could be, right? Didn’t he have an after-party to be at? The longer he eavesdropped on the conversation, the more obvious it became that it was Mathias. And they were talking about him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come this year. Again. But you know how Alfred gets.”

“Yeah... Don’t worry about it. This can be our own little after-party. Just as long as he doesn’t find out, you’ll be fine!”

Wait, what?

From what he heard, it sounded like you really had moved on. But you never had the decency to tell him, and that was what filled him to the brim with betrayal--it broke his heart. Was this why you wanted to be in a separate room tonight? Sliding himself off the bed, he stormed out the door to find you. His glasses were already fogging up, but he never bothered to clear them as he marched down the empty halls.

Your voices grew louder and louder, all until he came to a stop outside a room he never booked. That was right. He applied for one with a single bed. He could only imagine what you were doing with Mathias in a room with a double bed.

The laughing continued behind the door.

“You know these walls are thin, right?” He began lowly. Swinging open the door, the noises disappeared along with the people inside. The room was completely dark, and when he flicked on the lights, you and Mathias were nowhere in sight. Not a soul was in here.

“... What the fuck.” He grumbled.

He swore he heard you both giggling away like school children. Did you two hear him coming and hide somewhere? He was skeptical, but he checked around nonetheless. In the wardrobe, then under the bed. There was no sign of either of you. The shower, maybe? Stepping into the bathroom and pulling open the curtains, he was prepared to catch you red-handed. But there was nothing there except for a porcelain white tub. A defeated sigh fell from his lips. What the hell was going on? Alfred was completely sober, a miracle considering he usually drank at his parties. So he had a terrible feeling he wasn’t just hearing things. That only pointed towards one explanation.

This inn was totally haunted.

And whoever, or whatever that haunted it was toying with him.

He swallowed thickly and turned to the mirror, only to jump at what he saw. The reflection revealed a figure standing behind him.

It was Mathias, except his face was twisted in a sick smile.

“Holy shit--!” Alfred paled as he stared face to face with the entity. As he lost himself in its soulless, blue eyes, he was overcome with dread, almost as if the spirit was forcing fear into him. Reminding him of his failures, insecurities, and the uncertainty of his relationship. All of his faults flashed in his mind again and again so incessantly, he thought he would break down on the spot.

Where is (F/N)?

She doesn’t want you anymore.

You should just give up.

And the deeper in he spiraled into these self-destructive thoughts, the wider the entity smiled, its lips stretching to impossible lengths it became grotesque. Darting his wide eyes around the reflection in his bout of panic, he saw its hand reach out to his shoulder in the mirror. He didn’t know how he managed to do this, but he spun around quickly to defend himself. And there was nobody there.

In his brief moment of disorientation, the spirit shot out two arms, breaking the barrier of the glass. Tightening its hands around his neck, Alfred was pulled back against the mirror and choked. “Gh--!” His airway was completely constricted by the iron grip, and he was forced to struggle a few inches above the ground.

Digging his fingernails into the hands, he never felt them loosen.

So he did the unthinkable--he started to smash his fist against the mirror. It hurt like hell and left his knuckles bruised and raw, but the thought of you in danger kept him going. That was right. There was no saying if you weren’t being choked, attacked, or worst. Punching the glass again and again, it finally shattered, and the grip around his neck loosened.

The mirror was reduced to shards and fell into the sink.

Falling to the ground in a loud thump, he stood up while coughing violently.

The arms disappeared, and so did the entity.

And Alfred had a feeling it had to do with the mirror it was in.

Leaving the bathroom with heavy breaths, he ran back to his room and picked up his chainsaw. Halloween had the perks of carrying around dangerous tools, and he was never this glad that he took it with him instead of leaving it in his car unattended. Too bad he was out of costume, though. But a white tank and boxers would do. Holding it above his chest, he revved his chainsaw and ran out the door.

It was time to fuck shit up.

You were still stuck in bed, but the spirit managed to remove your blanket. A soft whimper fell from your lips as your only form of protection was stripped away. If you thought you were terrified, then you would prove yourself wrong with a whole new level of fear as two arms wrapped around your neck from behind. No way. Was it going to choke you? One of its legs was thrown over yours, so you were completely enveloped by its limbs.

As you trembled away in the dark, you let out a soft cry when you felt its warm breath tickle your ear.

“I missed you. Why didn’t you wanna stay in a room with me?” It cooed, the voice sending shivers down your spine. It sounded strangely similar to Alfred’s, and what he said was exactly what he would’ve said too, except it wasn’t him. You never saw him come in, and the last time you checked, he wasn’t invisible.

“... W-What... What are you?” You stammered, feeling a hand glide down your bare thigh. “Stop--”

“I’m his desire, sweetheart.” It began in a low and alluring voice. “Every feeling in the Aura inn festers into a semi-physical form. That’s why I’m here right now. Because he wants you.”

You screwed your eyes shut. Just what the hell kind of place was this inn? A magical hut that personified emotions? “... Can you please let me go? I don’t like the way how you’re... Hugging me.” You pleaded, only to feel the entity tighten itself around you.

“But I don’t want to. He doesn’t want to.” It responded with a hum. “I reflect everything he wants. And currently, he wants to see you more than anything. Especially when he’s dealing with jealousy... And having a hard time at that.”

“Jealousy?” It wasn’t shocking, per se, but he had you curious. If desire festered into a sultry form of someone and hugged their object of affections, what did jealousy turn into? “... I knew he was jealous of Mathias. But that’s not the problem here. We’ll sort it out later. If you’re desire, then what’s jealousy like?”

It let out a deep, foreboding laugh. “Depends. If it’s only a little bit of envy, he’ll start hearing things that hit his nerves. Nothing but... Harmless fun.” You felt yourself get rolled onto your back, and you were caught off guard by what loomed over you. It was Alfred himself, or more accurately put, his personified desire, but this time, you could see him. “But if his jealousy gets mixed in with insecurity, that’s when things get pretty ugly...”

You furrowed your brows with concern. “Ugly? How so? Is he gonna be okay?”

It craned his head from side to side. “Who knows.”

“But I’ll tell you a few things that I do know. Jealousy tends to be pretty sneaky. It’ll snoop around in mirrors and attack him.” You tensed up all over. “So Alfred will have to smash every mirror in the inn to get it to come out. And when it does, all he needs to do is be with you to send it away.”

Loud chainsaw noises were heard down the halls, silencing both you and the entity. Following that was the shattering of glass.

“... Hm. Looks like he already figured it out.”

Joy filled you to the brim and you smiled wide. “He really did! I’m so glad!” Reaching out to hug the entity around its chest, you pulled away and slid yourself off the bed.

“Thank you, um, Alfred’s desire! I’m gonna go find him now!”

He laid on his side and watched you run off. “You can just call me Alfred.”

“Okay, Alfred!”

While you exited the room to stand in the halls, you found yourself staring at a number of doors that were wide open, and the lights on inside. You assumed those were the rooms he already cleared, which meant he still had quite a bit to do. But he was fast. Appearing out of one room, he continued tearing down door after door to smash every single mirror and window in the inn. And soon, he managed to reduce every piece of glass present into shards.

Once the chainsaw revs came to a stop, you called out his name.

“Alfred!”

He jerked up at the sound, then glanced around. “(F/N)!?” While he was on the first floor in the courtyard, you were on the second in the mezzanine, so he had to glance up to see you. “Oh God, I was so worried! Are you okay?” He shouted.

“Yes!” You called back. “This place is... Super haunted. Let’s get out of here!”

“You called it. I nearly got murdered!”

Running down the stairs to meet with him, you practically jumped onto him after he dropped his chainsaw to the ground. Embracing you with his strong arms, he pressed kiss after kiss all over your face. While he did, you spotted another figure standing by the stairs. Was that Mathias? You couldn’t take a better look at him before he disappeared into thin air. “Oh my fucking god. I missed you so much.” He exasperated, setting you down on your feet. “You won’t believe what happened. I’ll explain everything in the car.”

As he led you out of the Godforsaken inn, he gripped you tight with his hand. And you squeezed right back. “Let me guess. You were attacked by something in the mirror so you shattered every single one here. I know.”

At this point, you and him had arrived outside his car.

Turning to you with shock, he placed his hands on his hips.

“And how the hell did you know? I thought it was original enough that you wouldn’t be able to guess!” He exclaimed, much to your amusement.

“Mm... Not really. With how many horror movies you’ve watched, I wouldn’t put it past you to come up with a solution like that.” Giving him an affectionate pinch on the cheek, he rubbed the spot with a light pout. You considered telling him the truth, but you already wanted to forget tonight. If he didn’t know about it, then moving on yourself would be so much easier.

“Now, I think you have some apologizing to do.”

He softened his gaze. “Yeah... I really do. Sorry for everything. Sorry for being a dick. And not just... For today.” Pulling you into another hug, he nestled his chin into your shoulder. God, did it feel good to have you in his arms again. “I’m gonna be real. I never hated Mathias. He’s my friend. But seeing him with you gets me... Really jealous. And it’s not cuz’ I don’t trust you, it’s because I’m...” His cheeks grew rosy. “I don’t know. I just feel...”

You knew he’d get stuck at this part, so you helped him.

“Because you feel insecure?”

“... Yeah.”

“You idiot...” A soft, content sigh was heard from your end. “It doesn’t matter how similar you are to him. You don’t have to try to make any changes or keep him away from me for me to choose you.”

His heart fluttered as he released you with a sheepish smile.

“I really needed to hear that. So, thanks.” Alfred murmured, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Kinda lame of me to put you through that. I should’ve just talked it out with you.”

“Yeah, you dumbass.” You grumbled, but it was on an affectionate note.

“So, do you think we’ll make it in time to the party for me to carpool with Mathias back to his place? I wanna see what they’re building this year!”

He frowned, but his expression was short-lived as a smile began creeping onto his lips. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m kidding!”

🎶 Tell me, are you the ghost of jealousy?

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.

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