#but only after we’ve had that conversation and i’m fully convinced there really is a reason to avoid this person | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erikagaulia · 1 year

Text

Just talk to her

Just talk to her, what’s the worst that could happen? Even if she simply laughs in my face, it would surely hurt more in the long run knowing that I never even gave it a shot. Why don’t I just do it? I keep trying to convince myself that it could actually lead to something: there is always the possibility that she’s not how she seems. But, of course, who am I kidding? What possible, tiniest, speck of a chance would I have with someone like Julianna? It’s laughable even imagining it.

Still though, what better opportunity am I going to get? She’s actually here. At this party. She never comes to parties, everyone knows that. There are certainly not going to be any more opportunities for me after we graduate. I’ll probably never see her again after this. But no. Still no. Absolutely not. A woman like Julianna, making time for a short, dim-witted, chubby guy who is definitely going to be bald in a few years’ time? Please. I’m so far beneath her that she’d probably just look at me like some microscopic worm had walked up to her and opened its mouth.

In fact, I basically am all but invisible to her I think. Even though we’ve lived opposite each other in the hall since freshman year, I’m pretty sure she still doesn’t know who I am. We’ve not said a word to each other all this time. Never given me so much as a look. Not that I haven’t wanted to spark up some kind of conversation though. Many times have I fantasised about just that. I’d be happy with even a ‘hello’. I thought about transferring to some of her classes once or twice, to maximise those opportunities, but that just seemed too desperate even for me. In a way, it’s strange seeing her out like this. I’d always assumed she was the sort of person who viewed frat parties as beneath her. I guess I thought of myself as that sort of person too, but look at me now.

She disappeared inside the house for a while, but later in the evening, I found her again in the garden, over with a group of sorority chicks. She seems to be part of the group, but she’s not talking to any of them. It’s always amusing to see her like that because she’s so much taller than them. Definitely well over 6 feet in flats alone I’d guess, and who knows what height in heels as big as those. I watch her from the edge of the garden for a bit. She takes infrequent sips from a red cup, probably filled with the same sickly punch that I’m drinking. Occasionally she looks away from the group and scans the party. I make sure to avert my eyes toward something else whenever she does.

I feel sorry for her in a way, she looks so bored. Although come to think of it, she always looks bored. That sort of seems to be her default state. Supposedly she does have real friends, presumably hobbies and stuff too, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen her enjoying herself. It’s not like she comes across as annoyed or disappointed by people, more just absent—like there is nothing around that is even worth having a strong emotion about. It’s only the times I spot her in the library at all hours of the night, beavering away on whatever project it is she’s working on that day, that she actually looks like she’s fully invested in something.

Do I really know her? I like to think I do, but I guess no one really does. She seems unknowable in a way, as cliched as that sounds. She doesn’t exactly give much away. What are we supposed to think? People only know the things other people have made up about her, and most of that is just inspired by how she looks. Those who have been lucky enough to speak to her just say she’s unfriendly, aloof. I guess they’re right. The word aloof was pretty much invented to describe someone like her. But the weird thing is I’ve heard others say she’s actually just shy. I can’t believe that though. How could someone who looks and dresses like her be shy? She only gets away with being as anti-social as she is because she’s so ridiculously good-looking. Anyone else would be shunned into being an outcast behaving like her. That’s part of the reason I guess why I never felt I could go up and talk to her. It’s too obvious. How many guys must she have to reject on a daily basis?

After all this time, I still struggle to understand how someone can really, genuinely look like her. How can she be a physical human being inhabiting the same world as the rest of us, as opposed to some illusion—a figment of a horny adolescent’s imagination? Even 3 years on, she still seems as unreal to me as the first day I saw her. Whenever I pass her in the hallway, or while out walking through campus, I have to stop myself from instinctively rubbing my eyes to wipe away the mirage. She always looks like she’s stepped straight off of a computer screen, with body parts precisely curated and then sculpted into a paragon of femininity.

I almost don’t believe it. Her face is simply too exquisite to have emerged naturally. It has this unerring elegance to it while at the same time being so obscenely sexy that it overcomes me with feelings of shame to even look at her class headshot for too long. Then there’s her style, which by some miracle manages to do justice to her innate beauty. With her pristine foundation and blusher contrasted against dark lipstick on plump lips, she always applies her make-up so perfectly that it looks like it’s a part of her face. Her hair falls carelessly yet immaculately onto her shoulders, jet-black locks occasionally parting to reveal turquoise highlights that match her eyes. Her style choices seem to be the only glimpse any of us ever get inside the head of Julianna: she obviously loves colour. Tonight she’s wearing a space-themed multicoloured dress, a figure-hugging number with nebulous purple clouds interspersed by black voids, dotted with gold symbols and sparkly four-pointed stars. Admittedly, the dress covers rather little of her body, but this is on the more modest end of things for her. I am more than happy to excuse her for it though. I get it. If I were as implausibly stunning as her, I would probably want to dress up like a mystical cosmic butterfly as well.

Anyway, I like to flatter myself into thinking it’s just her mysterious personality and exuberant sense of dress that draws me to her. But if I am honest, her body has the largest part to play in that. How something like that is even possible, I have no clue. It certainly defies some biological principles, or at the very least statistical probability. The fact is, Julianna is a very tall and incredibly slender woman, so where in the hell did those enormous breasts come from? They’re each bigger than her head for God’s sake. It’s the sort of thing that pains me to think about, and I’m just a guy. I can tell the other sorority girls in that group she’s with are having the same thought: How can one person be so physically blessed with so much all at once?

I know most people still assume she must have had a boob job or several, and with them being that size I get what they’re saying. But those people don’t know what they’re talking about. I’ve spent enough time studying her now—looking at the way they wobble, how she balances her weight as she walks, how softly they compress and squish when she uses her arms—they’re the real thing. Besides, I spoke to a guy once who went to high school with her. Apparently, she always had massive boobs, even when she was much younger. Out of curiosity I also asked him if she really was always this 6-foot-plus, impossibly beautiful, yet frustratingly unknowable goddess that we see before us now, and he merely shrugged and said “pretty much”.

I get sad when I think about it though really. Not just because all of this just makes me feel like a pervert, which I am, but sad because I’m probably just one of the thousands of such characters she must have to deal with on a daily basis. If anything, her weariness with the world is understandable if the way I think about her is any good reflection of it. I take comfort in the fact that I’ve never acted on anything, and wouldn’t even think to, but I can’t deny that I do think about her a lot. And like so many others, I catch myself staring. It’s so hard not to when someone like her is nearby. Even though, like staring at the Sun, I know it’ll only lead to me hurting myself. And sure, she’s blessed, but she doesn’t deserve that. One can have too much of a good thing I suppose.

In some ways, it must be a drag looking like she does. The attention is one thing, but having a body so crazily out of proportion must be physically exhausting. Although she never lets on that she suffers from it, even imagining the back pain makes me wince. I guess she could always get a breast reduction if she wanted, so perhaps she doesn’t mind their weight and the attention they bring. She certainly doesn’t cover them up that much. And I can count on my hands the number of times I’ve seen her wearing a bra. Also, where does she even find dresses like that anyway? I can only guess that she makes them herself. Whatever the case, I am frankly losing my mind seeing her standing there in that thing.

I remember in my freshman year that, for a long time, I thought she must have been some hallucination—her beauty something only I could see. But then I realised she was simply so attractive that people felt uncomfortable even bringing it up in conversation. Eventually though the almost offensive beauty of the new freshman down the hall couldn’t go ignored. Then people got to know her—and learned of her unsettlingly aloof personality—and something about the spell seemed to break. Now everyone knows her, for better or worse. She’s sort of infamous, in a way. Julianna: the ridiculously hot and ridiculously tall senior who rarely speaks and has gigantic tits. Again, it’s only because of her looks that she even has some semblance of a social life. Despite rarely engaging with anyone, she gets invited to things constantly. I guess it’s just so people can be around her and bask in the second-hand beauty. Of course these events she'd only ever attend sparingly. Like this one, funnily enough. For some reason, that is anyone’s guess, in the final week of semester, Julianna has finally decided to grace us with her presence—at a frat party of all things.

As I watch a few basketball players now attempt to make conversation with her, what I can’t understand most of all is how she’s managed to remain single all this time. Why have I never heard of a boyfriend, or even a girlfriend? To be honest, I’m not entirely sure if people even try and hit on her. They must do, surely, but I’d certainly never attempt it. From the way she carries herself, I get the impression that the idea of a relationship is simply beneath her—that there is no one around who remotely matches up. Perhaps when people have tried, she just obliterates them so totally that they never mention it again, pretend like it never happened. Now that I think of it, I did hear of one guy who tried to hit on her at some college event and was even seen maintaining the conversation late into the night. But then he ended up transferring to a different college straight after that and was never seen again. Unrelated, I’m sure, but it makes me wonder how bad could it have gone if she was indeed the cause of all that.

I suppose Julianna really just has no interest in anything like that. From what I hear she’s a very driven woman, very academic. They say she works night and day, and from the handful of times I’ve been in the library late at night, she has always been there. She’s at the top of all of her classes I hear too. Everyone majoring in some math or physics electives—or whatever difficult subject it is she’s majoring in—talks about how insanely smart she is. I can barely even wrap my head around it myself, but then there’s a lot that’s hard to believe about Julianna. As improbable as it is that someone who looks like her could be some kind of super-genius as well, it sadly does seem to be the case. I know she’s on the Dean’s honours list this year, the only one from our graduating class. Someone told me recently too that she’s also made it onto some incredibly prestigious astrophysics grad program, and that schools were practically falling over themselves to offer her fellowships. I can only imagine what they’ll think when they see what she looks like.

It’s shameful really that these are the only things I know about her. I can’t claim to love her exactly, but the place she occupies in my mind is definitely adjacent to that. It worries me that living so close to Julianna was what has spoiled my own romantic exploits during my college career. What kind of person am I to think all these things and still never talk to her? Not even a word. Even after lusting over her for three years, all I know is that she loves stuff to do with space, is incredibly intelligent, and has huge boobs. I’m pathetic really. Why should I be rewarded with a conversation when that’s the end result of my three-year masturbatory obsession?

But then I think to myself: Maybe that’s exactly why I should talk to her. Strike up a conversation. Just get it over with so I can get on with my life. Rip off the bandaid as they say. Maybe I’ll find out that she’s just a huge bitch and I can get over this stupid crush. Or maybe we’d actually hit it off. The latter doesn’t seem so likely, but who knows? I’d kill to even see her smile at this point.

As the night wore on, the peak of the party’s activity waned and people began to disperse from the garden of the frat house, either making their way inside to collapse, or scurrying off in couples to some darkened hedgerow to fuck. I’d mostly kept to myself that night, only making light small talk with people if I had to. Drinking far too much of the punch too, which I was now aware was more potent than it tasted.

But I could feel the Dutch courage growing in me now. All that time I had kept a watch on Julianna. She was always easy to spot, such a radiant and colourful vision of a woman, and always a good head-or-so taller than those around her. At one point she drifted from the latest group of sorority girls that were boring her, and towards an empty section of the long marble balustrade that bounded the far end of the garden. I waited for a moment to see if she was planning to join a different group, but she paused. Looking out at the party, scanning it, her gaze eventually landed on me, staring right back at her. I felt in that instant her dazzling emerald eyes pierce my skull. Then, without warning, the alcohol in my veins lifted my feet on my behalf and caused me to walk toward her. I was unable to stop myself, like a magnetic force was moving my body against my will. Her face though, implacable as ever, showed no hint of emotion. No suggestion of either interest or otherwise that I was now approaching her. She merely stood there and waited.

By the time I was a few feet away I felt my face go hot, I knew I must have been turning bright red, my entire head felt as if it was about to explode. Julianna remained still, standing right before me, her breasts so large they occupied an uncomfortable amount of my vision. I realised as I neared her, that I had forgotten just how tall she was. In the heels she was wearing she towered over me at something that must have been close to 6’7’’. I looked up at her face. Oh her face. God she was just too beautiful for me, or for anyone, I thought.

Though we had been staring directly at each other for almost half a minute by now, Julianna had still not opened her mouth or even made so much as a move. In her left hand, she was still holding a red cup. For some reason I found myself lifting my own drink and offering her some kind of weird salute,

“Hey, uh, Julianna. Congrats on making the Dean’s list.” I said.

To which a single eyebrow raised slightly, her eyes looking down at me with half-interested curiosity,

“Thank you Carlos.”

Oh crap. Panic set in as I learned that she did know my name after all. Somehow I never expected that. I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised, having lived so close to each other for three years, but still.

“Uh, you’re welcome.” I continued “So, are you… enjoying the party.”

Some of my drink got caught in my throat, making me sound like a frog, but she ignored it. Instead, she just stared down at me with a blank expression for a few seconds, blinking emptily as if to confirm that really was how I was going to begin this interaction.

“It’s fine,” she replied eventually, in a serious but not unkind voice, “I told myself I’d go to at least one of these things before graduation.”

I chuckled nervously, trying to clear the stench of awkwardness and insecurity that was accumulating around me,

“Oh, heh, yeah they’re not really my thing either. What do you usually do instead?”

“What do you mean?” She asked in response.

Once again her voice was not unkind, but it was oddly stern—a manner that suggested she couldn’t quite believe my offerings of conversation were really as dull as this.

“I mean, what do you usually do in the evenings?”

“I usually just stalk the streets to find men to hypnotise and kill.” She answered without emotion.

I paused for a moment in silence, her response was so abrupt that I didn’t even know how to react.

“I’m kidding.” She continued eventually in the same deadpan, before relieving me with just the smallest of smiles out of the corner of her mouth.

“Oh! God… Right, yeah…”

I could see from the subtle roll of her eyes that she had lost hope in me already, though the smile that then followed, surprisingly, carried no element of disdain.

After some further stumbling introductions on my behalf, we did gradually settle into something more closely resembling a human conversation. We exchanged a few more lukewarm sentences about the party and our feelings on finally graduating. She told me about the PhD program she was about to embark on and I tried to stop my eyes from glazing over when she described what she was going to be researching. Something about galaxies, I think. She even asked me a few questions about what I was planning to do, to which I had to admit I had not made any plans for how to make use of the business degree I would soon be in possession of. I expected her to roll her eyes again at that, but she just stared at me blankly, as if my lack of motivation was something she found impossible to even comprehend.

A while later, and as the lingering partygoers began to behave in an increasingly wild and debauched manner, we decided to sit together on the marble balustrade and watch them, freshly topped-up cups of punch in hand. I was grateful for the new position as standing talking to a woman so much taller than I was becoming both uncomfortable and slightly embarrassing.

Safe to say though: I was freaking out. I had tried to keep my growing panic about these developments bottled up, but thanks to the alcohol, I was unable to gauge how much of it might have been coming across in the contortions of my face. But miraculously, Julianna had shown no desire yet to leave our conversation. She had even invited me to sit beside her after getting our refills. It was going so much better than I could have ever anticipated. Julianna of all people, perhaps the smartest and most beautiful woman in existence, actually wanted to talk to me over anyone else at this party. I was so desperately out of my depth that the only way I could focus myself was by thinking only about how to get from one sentence to the next, and by trying my best not to look at her rack.

We gradually exhausted most of the general-purpose topics of conversation students would usually share with each other upon a first meeting. She had humoured my boringness by answering everything politely, but also while sharing precious few details about herself at the same time. I could sense then that a lull in the flow of conversation was approaching. So I decided to make an unannounced attempt to go somewhere deeper.

“So, do you have any regrets?” I blurted out after a fresh silence had stewed between us for an uncomfortable few seconds. For the first time that night, she actually seemed interested in something that had left my mouth. She turned to me and stared down her nose with a look that was avuncular, if a little condescending—like she had just witnessed a small rodent perform a trick.

“Regrets? How do you mean?” She replied, that smirk returning to the corner of her mouth again.

“I mean, things you would have done differently? In college… or in life I guess.”

“No. I don’t.” She replied, turning away from me again.

Once again her reply was so matter-of-fact, and without any form of elaboration, that it took me a second to recalibrate.

“Really? So everything in your life has gone exactly how you wanted it to?”

“Yes.” She answered without a pause,

For a second it looked like I had blown yet another attempt at conversation, but this time she continued.

“Why do you ask? Are there things you wished went differently?”

And the spotlight was back on me. Unfortunately, it seemed my attempt to peel back some of the layers of Julianna had backfired, as it had done several times already now.

“Oh. Well… Yeah,” I sputtered. “Loads of things. I guess we have slightly different outlooks on life.”

Julianna paused for a moment in thought, before shifting her position so as to face me head-on. I once again had to struggle to stop my eyeballs from involuntarily pointing down towards her chest which was now being compressed together by her arms and hovering unnervingly close to my own.

“What do you regret, Carlos.”

She said, enunciating it almost as if it was not a question. Having never heard her talk at length before, I was surprised by just how formal and authoritative her manner of speech was. Her voice had an attractive sonority and depth to it, but at the same time was almost robotic. It gave me the impression that her thoughts were formulated so precisely in her brain that she merely needed to open her mouth and everything she wanted to say would emerge exactly as conceived.

“Oh, you know.” I continued, “just my whole life really. Failure to achieve what I want. Failure to even try.”

I tried to make it sound like one of the dry jokes she would have made, but I could hear the emotion catch in my throat as I spoke, undermining any attempt to come across like I didn’t wholeheartedly believe what I had just said.

“But you got into a good school, I see you have friends, what do you regret?” She asked back, surprising me with a sudden kindness in her voice.

This thread of conversation was not going how I had wanted, and I knew I needed to try and divert from it. But when I looked up at Julianna again she was still staring deep into my eyes, just like she had when I first approached her. Her expression was neither warm nor cold, it was devoid of all emotion yet was somehow incredibly intense. Her wide hazel eyes felt like they had latched onto my own, making it impossible to look away. In the light coming from the frat house in the distance, her smooth, lightly-tanned skin almost looked like it was glowing.

I blinked frantically to try and snap myself out of whatever tipsy daydream was threatening to swallow me up.

“Oh nothing.” I replied, eventually, still feeling startled by Julianna’s gaze. “I just think I’m in a rut, romantically.”

No!, I thought, and slapped my hand across my mouth in shock. I had never intended to add the word “romantically” yet it had somehow fallen unbridled out of my mouth anyway.

“I see.” Julianna continued on my behalf, a semi-smile forming again. So you wish you’d had more hookups? Gotten a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know why we’re talking about this, I wanted to know about you!” I cried, trying to laugh it off. “But yeah, I thought college was when that was all supposed to happen. I’ve just not managed to figure it out. Too much time spent holed up in my dorm I think.”

Julianna turned away from me and looked out across the party. The revelry was now dwindling, with only half the attendees who had been there when we began talking left roaming the garden in a state of undress.

“Well there’s plenty of drunk sorority girls here tonight. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind one last fling before graduation.”

There was an unmistakable note of derision in her voice now.

“I’m not interested in them.” I heard myself say—the second time in a row I had said something without meaning to.

I glanced down at my cup and saw that my punch had disappeared. It was only when I looked up again that the wooziness hit me all at once. I could see Julianna’s cup was almost empty as well, but unlike me, she appeared as calm and centred as always.

“What are you interested in then?”

She replied, eyes narrowing. Her voice was snarky and pitying, but still managing not to come across as unkind.

“Oh come on.” I guffawed at an uncomfortable volume, shaking my head in disbelief.

But Julianna shot back at me sharply,

“Humour me,” she said, taking another sip.

I could really feel my heart thumping now. The drunken courage had so far allowed me to keep up in a conversation with the most beautiful woman I had ever met, but it was obvious now that she was operating on a different level, probably one I would not be able to understand even if I was sober. Yet despite the fact I was sitting here trying to drown myself in a mire of inadequacy, she was still here by my side, egging me on. Perhaps my rambling and drunken incoherence was amusing to her in some way.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say… what were we talking about?” I asked her, my voice sounding weak and panic-stricken all of a sudden.

Julianna smiled and shook her head genially, “you were telling me about your regrets—your failure to find romance in college. I’m asking you: what is it you wish you did? Who is it you wish you did, if you prefer?”

“Well, you know,” I began cautiously, “it’s not really like I have any specific regrets. It’s more generalised regret—a feeling of wasted time.”

“That’s not good.” She replied thoughtfully.

“You don’t feel like that, at times?”

“No” was all she said in response, her reluctance to elaborate further unsurprising at this point in the conversation.

Several minutes of silence drifted past, during which time I tried to regain focus on my surroundings, and Julianna quietly sipped what remained of her drink. She seemed to be watching the party again—the wasted sorority girls in their bikinis, and the various athletes in team jackets attempting to hook up with them in as an enthusiastic but unthreatening manner as they could manage without being given the mace. Julianna seemed both curious and disinterested at once, as though she was somehow their elder, watching the children play their trivial games. Though in reality, she had said precious few words to me so far, I still found myself struck by how remarkably wise—and in a way, ageless—she seemed to be. It was even more surprising just how much this impression had made me forget the outlandish sexuality of that preposterous body of hers. That had clearly been what drew me to her in the first place, but there were just too many astounding and confusing traits about this woman to keep track of at once. It was only when she leant back to stretch her spine that the outward swell of her breasts reminded me of their existence. Each time I had to gulp and look away as they threatened to burst out of her tight, multicoloured dress.

Something caught Julianna’s interest then, and she turned to face me again,

“You know they’re all wasted,” she began, gesturing towards the scenes of animalistic lust playing out in the garden, “Those girls, all the basketball players treat them like shit. If you go to one and talk to her kindly, perhaps hold her hair while she vomits into a toilet, she might even let you fuck her.”

Her smirk suggested she was joking again, but her tone remained as deadpan as ever, to the point that it felt inappropriate to laugh.

“I don’t want that” I replied, knowing full well how she would respond to that.

“So what is it you want, Carlos?” came the inevitable question, one that she was apparently so eager to know the answer to.

I started speaking but found the words clog up like detritus in my throat and come out distasteful.

“Where are you going with all this, you want me to just describe my perfect woman or something?”

“Please.” She said, shooting me another piercing stare with almost-black eyes that I could swear had changed colours since I last looked.

“I mean, it’s not like I think I’m in a position to be picky” I began, my words slurring more than I wanted “but, you know, I’d want a nice girl, someone who wouldn’t mind just being my best friend. Someone who I wouldn’t have to try and be someone else around.”

“Uh huh?” She replied, rolling her eyes.

“What?” I spat back, “what’s wrong with wanting that?”

Julianna sighed and placed one hand on my thigh.

“Nothing, it’s just that ‘that’ was not really much of anything. I was hoping for something more. Tell me something you would usually never admit to. I took a chance on you, Carlos. You seemed like perhaps you had more going on in your head than the others.”

After she took her hand away again, a brief glint in her eye caught mine as she went in for another sip of her drink. Her black eyes seemed to have some streaks of colour appearing in them—strips of green and gold light erupted inside the irises of her left eye, and a dazzling segment of sapphire appeared in the right. I could sense them communicating something to me, silently. Broadcasting some kind of intangible information.

Julianna’s game was still impossible to determine, but the clues had mounted to the point where I was at least certain there was a game being played. She was goading me into doing something. Saying something. What, I had no clue, and was too hopelessly outmatched by her intellect to attempt to find out. But whatever it was, she had taken some hold of me, and I felt a hidden part of me open up.

“Fine… well, if I’m being totally honest… You know, I came over here originally to… sort of…”

“Uh huh?” She interrupted again, nodding at me with sarcastic encouragement.

“I mean, it’s just… I’d always… sort of… liked you…? You know?”

I'd done it. Holding my breath, I braced for impact. But Julianna did not react at first. She instead placed her cup down beside her on the ledge and shuffled her body around so her chest was pointing directly towards me again.

“Me?” She replied, pointing to herself, her voice betraying a sort of forced naivety that she wasn’t attempting to conceal,

“Yeah,” I replied quietly after a beat. I squinted as if a bomb was about to detonate.

Julianna went silent. Instead of putting me out of my misery, she decided to leave me in that state of nerve-wracking suspense, stewing over what I, for no apparent reason, had just admitted to her. I began to question why I did it. But in my state of shellshock, I couldn’t quite figure out how I was even supposed to feel. Julianna just looked down at her lap for some time. We both stared at her fingernails, which were painted black and dotted with thousands of tiny white stars that seemed to sparkle when the light struck them. Eventually, she looked up again, and returned her gaze to mine. The slow, sultry opening of her eyelids made my heartbeat thrum at an even more alarming rate than it had been.

“You don’t even know me.” She said softly, with a breathier voice than before.

“I-I know, but ever since I first saw you… I just… I thought…” I trailed off, feeling incredibly self-conscious now about the fact she had yet to return any sort of similar sentiment towards me, positive or negative.

“What did you think?”

“Just… you know, that you were attractive,” I replied, bitterly.

The words came out harder than I expected. I felt a new sense of irritation come over me. How was she was managing to get this out of me while offering nothing in return, not even a let-down?

“I see, what about me do you find attractive?” Julianna asked. Her eyelids fluttered at me again as if to try and pull me deeper into their trap.

“Well, surely you know Julianna,” I replied, the irritation building further now.

“Tell me.”

In a moment of panic, I stupidly glanced down at her breasts again and felt a sense of frustration—at myself more than anyone—bubble to the surface.

“What do you want me to say? List all the things I find attractive about you? The list of things I don’t would be far shorter. Empty, in fact.”

Her eyebrows raised in anticipation as if to suggest I was finally approaching the destination she was guiding me towards.

“I see. How interesting.” She answered.

I was stunned. Her reply was so condescending that I could scarcely believe I was still talking to the same pleasant girl I had spent the evening with. From the way she had reacted to my admission of attraction to her, anyone would think I had deigned to ask God herself if I could sleep with her. The attitude of this woman had turned in a blink from playful banter, to some kind of off-putting ego trip— one I was keen to escape from.

“Fine, Julianna. You got what you wanted I guess. Yes, it’s true: I like you. I’m sure you find it hilarious how every sorry guy in this college has got a crush on you that’s as big as your tits, but how do you think we feel having to be around some giant super-intelligent super-goddess like you all the time. Save some for the rest of us why don’t you?”

I knew even before opening my mouth that my outburst was a humungous mistake. I half expected Julianna to pick up a nearby drink and throw it in my face, but instead, she just continued to look down her nose at me with the same mirthful smirk as before.

“Huh.” She said, nodding to herself.

“What!? Tell me!” I spat, before sensing the pitiful back-pedalling that I knew was about to follow, “Fuck! Look… I’m sorry it all came out like that, I didn’t mean—”

“Do you think about my tits often, Carlos?” Julianna interrupted.

I froze, my mouth and eyes gaping wide open at her.

“It’s just that you’ve always looked at them a lot,” she continued, “I wonder if they occupy your mind when I’m not around too.”

The way she was speaking was so casual it sounded more like she was asking me for an opinion on a new haircut. Instead, it appeared I had now stumbled into a mind game that involved me being interrogated over having private thoughts about her breasts too often.

“Look, I don’t know what this is… but I’ve had enough. This conversation is making me uncomfortable. I think I’m just gonna—“

“How many times have you imagined having sex with me?” She carried on, ignorning me, before seizing my wrist with her hand to prevent my escape.

I glanced around at the party, but suddenly everyone, even the drunken girls, had disappeared—only a few jocks remained, all of whom were too incapacitated to rescue me from wherever this was headed. Julianna on the other hand was still staring at me with wide, emotionless eyes, one entirely green and the other blue.

“Look, whatever it is I’ve done to upset you… I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry if my behaviour has ever come across as untoward, or seedy, or… I mean, I would never even think to hurt you or even go near you. Never in a million years would I have thought someone like you—”

“Would want to fuck you?” She interrupted, the smirk disappearing in an in an instant,

“No! I’m sorry, okay!? I apologise. Whatever it is, I apologise. What is your game here? Just tell me and put me out of my misery okay?”

With that, she turned away from me and released my wrist. A few seconds later a sharp pain emerged from where she had grabbed me—the skin around my wrist was stinging badly and in the darkness almost looked like it was beginning to blister. Julianna then stood up at once and wordlessly held out her hand, instructing me to take it. I did as I was told, wincing slightly at the temperature of her palm which seemed far hotter than could have been healthy for anyone's body.

Hand in hand, Julianna led me out towards the wooden gate at the far end of the white marble balustrade we had been sitting on. The back garden of the frat house that had hosted the party led out directly into a series of open fields, which seemed to be where we were going. I was once again unnerved by how frighteningly tall she was, and how much stronger she seemed to be than me, in spite of her slender build. I gulped as I watched her shapely hips and firm buttocks swerve elegantly as she walked ahead of me. Her strides were long and fast and betrayed little of the cumbersome weight she carried on her chest. I tried my best to keep up, but found myself at all times lagging several steps behind.

Though my mind was awash with anxiety and fear, a submerged part of my reptilian brain still roiled with excitement. I couldn’t quite believe that I was holding hands with her after all the time I had spent imagining it. And she wanted me, although for what exactly, I was still unsure of. My emotions were conflicted. As happy as I was to be led away from the party by Julianna in that moment, I couldn’t shake the idea that it was because she meant to harm me in some way.

Following the dirt path down the hill, we found ourselves at a final stone wall. She instructed me to mount it after her and we dropped down into a dark field filled with ankle-length grass. Now with the frat house far off in the distance behind a thicket of pine trees, it was a struggle to see even a few feet in front of me. The field was illuminated only by shreds of moonlight piercing through cracks in the clouds overhead.

“Seriously, can you please just explain what it is we’re doing out here?” I called up to her, “I’m getting pretty freaked out now.”

“I just want to get to know you better. Really take you all in.” She called back, tugging my hand towards her even harder, “I got the feeling that the lack of privacy back there was inhibiting you.”

I yanked my hand free from her grip, instinctively shaking it so as to dispel the pain from where her intense heat had scalded me. Sensing me release, Julianna whipped around and stared down at me with an expression of mock surprise.

“Well fine. I guess here will do,” she announced.

Despite the fact it was almost pitch black, I was somehow still able to see all of her body in surprising detail. I could follow the outline of her curvaceous figure, identify the stars that speckled her dress. Even her skin seemed to glow in the dark, as if illuminated from somewhere deep beneath the flesh. I gazed up towards her face and her eyes like immaculate sapphires were shining down on me, reflecting an unidentified source of light. It was all too much to take. I felt the frustration building within me again.

“Just tell me what you want,” I cried out, “Everything about you is so fucking confusing. I’ve confessed about that stupid crush I had on you, but what crime is that really? I never did anything. I just left you be. If you’re torturing me just for that, then I don’t think it is really all that fair.”

Julianna sighed and smiled. “I’m not intending to torture you, Carlos. You’re doing that to yourself. All I’ve done is ask you questions.”

I looked away in desperation, but the woman quickly grabbed my jaw in her hand and forced me to stare into her eyes again.

“Now, why don’t you touch my breasts?”

I heard myself scream internally. Unable to even react at first, I paused to replay what I had just heard. But as the silent seconds dragged on it just seemed ever more like a transient aberration of my mind. Then she repeated it.

“Carlos. Touch my breasts. Come on, just do it.” She said again, more forcefully this time, before grabbing my wrists without warning and pressing my open hands into her awaiting chest.

All possible doubts as to the realness of Julianna’s breasts were dispelled in instant by the impossible softness I felt under my hands. They were so soft that it made their simultaneous shapeliness appear to defy physics. Yet they were obviously monumentally heavy too, and nor could I understand how she was able to hold them up when supported only by that thin dress. I allowed her to continue forcing me into groping her for a while, but she eventually released her hands and permitted me to play on my own. I had long since chosen to ignore the erection that had appeared in my pants, as I was too enraptured by the moment. The one thing I was clear on was that there was unlikely to be another opportunity like this.

While I continued to fondle Julianna’s breasts over her dress I began to notice that her body had become even more visible through the darkness. The dim glow that I thought I had seen emanating from her skin before seemed to grow brighter. After a few minutes spent squeezing her chest, it was unmistakable—her entire body was glowing now, lighting up a few-feet’s radius of the grass around us. When looking directly at her skin the light seemed constant, like the Sun seen through thick clouds, but when looking away and out at our surroundings, the light darted and rippled, as if refracting off the surface of a pond. I looked up at her and noticed that this light was pouring out of every section of bare skin, not just her arms and shoulders. Even her face, neck and breasts were glowing, with only the dress and her hair silhouetted against the light.

“Julianna. What the hell is going on!” I blurted out. “Am I just completely wasted, or is this real…? Y-you look like you’re glowing or something.” I made to release my hands from her breasts but she grabbed my wrists once again and forced me to press them into her even harder.

“Don’t worry. Just something my body does. Now tell me what you feel. How do you like them?”

“What do you mean? You mean your boobs? I don't know what you want me to say. I mean, they’re amazing, yes… but I-I’m more concerned about what is happening to you. Can you explain something to me for once, please!?”

Julianna breathed in deeply, arching her back as if she was absorbing something from the atmosphere. She pushed out her breasts further in my direction and I found myself clenching down on them harder, grabbing and squeezing sections of soft flesh at random. Despite not being able to even grab a decent amount of them in my palms at any one time, I did my best to give their entire volume my attention.

“All in good time.” She said finally. “Now do as I ask. Tell me what you feel. What do you think about them?”

I still couldn’t understand what she wanted out of me, but as her tone was darkening somewhat, I saw it best to try at least.

“I… I love them. They’re so big. So huge, I can’t believe they’re even real.”

“Good. More.” Julianna replied, a slight breathlessness coming over her previously calm demeanour. Her eyes were now closed.

“I’ve wanted to touch these for so long. I’ve thought about them every night, thought about you. How beautiful you are. How unbelievable you look, all the time. I never in my dreams imagined I would actually get to…”

“Go on.” She continued, now talking only in between sharp gasps of air. “Tell me more. What do you think about me?”

She was panting now, as if my mere words were causing exertion in her in some way.

“I don’t even know what to think. I can’t understand it. No one can. How you are this perfect? So beautiful, so tall, so smart. You’re like a woman from another planet. How is any of this possible? And your tits… Oh my god.”

I pressed my fingers in further.

“More.” She yelled, throwing her head backwards.

“I-I don’t know what you want!”

“Do you masturbate to the thought of me?”

“Yes! Of course, I do! You’re incredible, Julianna. A goddess. You might be the most amazing woman in the entire world.”

“Ughhhhh” she cried out with a deafening wail. The light from her body shone so brightly that I had to cover my eyes.

After concluding a long, visceral moan, Julianna finally threw her head forward again and looked down at me from above. My hands were on autopilot now, just continuing to vigorously play with her enormous soft masses, occasionally reaching down into her dress to get closer to them. She paused to inspect the way I was attempting to jiggle and toss them around in my hands, and briefly joined me to squeeze other parts of the flesh in between her own fingers.

Apparently satisfied with my attempt, she then crouched down so that her face was at a level with mine. Her skin was now gleaming so brightly that she looked more like a being made of pure light than a human woman. Her eyes had changed colours once again but were no longer even recognisable as such—her irises transformed into two iridescent portals of pure colour that changed from green to magenta to red and then blue with every blink. Although throughout all of this I had continued to fondle her breasts in an unmistakably sexual manner, she had yet to touch me in any way that could have been interpreted as anything remotely intimate. I still couldn’t understand what her game was here, but it was obviously far too late to ask questions. I was no longer even sure I knew what this woman was.

“Are you scared, Carlos?” She asked calmly.

“No.” I replied, “I mean. Sort of. I’m also very turned on. It’s a confusing feeling.”

“Good. Do you want to have sex with me then?”

“Yes,” I replied straightforwardly, not leaving even a second’s pause for any stupid rational thoughts to catch up.

Thinking that I finally knew what it was that she wanted, I instinctively stepped forward to kiss her on mouth which was only inches away from my own. But before I could reach her she brought up one glowing finger, and placed it gently over my lips, stopping me in my tracks. It was scorching hot against my skin, and far larger than I expected it to be.

“No. Tell me.” She spoke in a half-whisper.

“Tell you what?”

“What you want to do to me.”

I tried to muster some kind of thoughtful response but ended up just letting the words fall out as they came to me.

“I… I don’t know… I want to fuck you so bad. I’ve wanted nothing more than that for years. Even just to touch you. Kiss you perhaps. God, I just want to touch all of that incredible body of yours. I want to make love to you.”

“Love? Really? Doesn’t sound like love, Carlos.” She boomed all of a sudden, her voice rising in volume and lowering in pitch in an instant.

Julianna then began to stand up again. As she did, her bosom escaped from my grip and rose up far above my head and out of my reach. Only then did I realise that the breasts I had been trying my best to play with in my hands were much, much larger than the ones I remembered grabbing a hold of. In fact, it seemed all of Julianna had grown in size while she had been crouching and I had failed to notice it. When she straightened her back and erected herself to her full height again my eyes were drawn upwards to the sky, only stopping when her head came to a rest a good several feet above the height she once was. I stepped back and swallowed sharply. The woman was now in excess of eight or perhaps nine feet tall—her stomach level with my eyes. Her breasts were also substantially larger, even in comparison to her new stature, and looming just above my head. All while this was happening her body continued to exude its unnatural glow, which due to her new immense size was now bathing the field around us in an undulating light show of multicoloured beams.

“Julianna!” I cried out. “What the fuck is happening right now!? What is this? You’re not human, are you?”

The woman laughed deeply, her voice even more sonorous than before, it reverberated through the ground and up into my bones.

“Sort of. I’m a Siren, Carlos.”

“What the hell is that?” I yelled, shaking my head in disbelief, “You mean… Like a real Siren? From mythology, or whatever? That sailors find at sea?”

“Are we at sea?”

“No, but… come on, you know what I mean.”

Julianna chuckled “Yes. A bit like that.”

“But what does that even mean? This isn’t real, right? I don’t understand. Why are you so big all of a sudden? And why are you glowing like that? I feel like I’m about to go blind if I keep looking at you any longer.”

“Oh you’ll be worse than blind if you do, I’m afraid.”

Without waiting for a reply, Julianna inhaled deeply and leant backwards as far as she could, eventually crashing to the ground on her back. Though she shook the Earth around me as she landed, the grass caught her fall somehow—the short tendrils experiencing a rush of explosive growth, enough to craft a tangled nest in time for her to lie back in. Once she had come to a rest she propped herself upright, with her legs splayed open, inviting me in. Her dress, that at first had seemed to grow alongside her, was now gradually dissolving into her skin, revealing her entire body naked before me. All I saw now was an awaiting vulva watching me ominously up ahead.

Lying back on her low grassy throne in front of me, and with her feet placed flat on the ground, I could tell she had grown even further. I walked towards her cautiously, finding myself no taller than her knee now. From around one side of her legs I could also see that her breasts had also continued to outpace both the rest of her body and had now tumbled off her body. They gathered up into two heavy heaps each resting half in her lap, and half on the ground either side of her.

“Tell me what is going on!” I shouted, tugging at my hair, more out of fear than anything else, “I really feel like I’m losing it here!”

Julianna began to laugh once again and with each successive intake of breath, more beams of intense light shone out from different parts of her nude body. I could see all around her that the once lifeless grass was bursting with new growth—tiny multicoloured flowers dotted the ground at her feet and large leafy ferns were bursting forth from the perimeter where her breasts met the ground.

“It’s you, Carlos.” Julianna began, "This is all because of you. Because of your lust. I feed on it. It gives me my power. The way you people lust over me from a distance is usually enough to sustain me most days, but sometimes I just want to take it all the way with someone like you. Really drink it in. You can see what it does to me. This feels as good as it looks. Honestly, I’ve never managed to get this big before. You must really want me.”

“What do you want with me though? Please, whatever it is I’ll do it. Just don’t hurt me.”

“Don’t you listen?” Julianna boomed, leaning forward so she could look at me closer, standing meekly between her legs. “It’s not about what I want. It’s what you want. Every lustful thought you have about me just makes me bigger and stronger. And I want more. I want you to submit to your desires, Carlos. To feed me… Now, I could continue to ask you what those are, but I see there’s no point. I know how much you want me.”

Without waiting for my permission Julianna reached down and wrapped one giant glowing hand around my body. I watched my clothes turn to cinders and disintegrate away from my body due to the scorching heat radiating from her hand. Although my clothes were gone in seconds, she seemed to be able to stop herself from burning my skin if she so desired, and I was left unharmed, this time.

The next thing I felt was being lowered down towards her naked figure, my body now only half the length of her torso. She placed me in between her breasts, which had swollen to sizes exceeding double-decker buses. Even though they now spilled out across the ground on either side of her, they were so large that they comfortably engulfed most of her chest and even her lap as well. Once I was safely lying on her stomach, nestled in between the tops of her breasts, she then used her arms to compress more of them down around me. I felt myself be entirely submerged, surrounded on all sides by soft walls. But despite having been swallowed up into this fleshy prison, I could still see everything around me as clear as day, the little available space illuminated like the inside of a bulb from the light pouring out of every inch of her skin.

I squinted through the blinding light. Up close, her flesh was unlike any human’s—she had no freckles, hairs, or even veins to speak of. But when I really inspected it, I noticed that it was not completely featureless. There were blurry pockets of colour moving and shifting around a few centimetres underneath her skin. Emeralds, blues, and golds, all twisted and distorted in formless overlapping shapes, never staying still. I did not get to admire the colours for long though because I soon felt the Siren clench her flesh down around me tighter still, her giant breasts squeezing the air from my lungs as they encroached. Just as my life felt about to be squeezed from my body, they receded, only to return once more a few seconds later. In and out, she compressed and released her breasts around my feeble frame, and I felt a little more of my soul escape my body with every successive pulsation.

By the time they finally receded enough to allow me to look down at my naked and bruised body, I could see I was already in the process of ejaculating. My cum spurted out like a dart and struck some nameless section of nearby boobflesh. As the tiny white splatter landed, it caused bolts of lighting to spark out of her skin and wrap both me and the Siren in spindles of electricity. I felt my entire body shudder, causing me to lose my balance and fall backwards out of her cleavage. l landed with a thump on her hard stomach. The vast entities that were Julianna’s breasts parted and revealed her smiling face once again. It shone down on me brightly, like the full moon rising between two gleaming mountains.

From all of the light bursting from Julianna’s giant body, I could only imagine the scene this must have been creating around us. But looking across the field from my elevated position, it seemed as tranquil as when we had arrived. Julianna leant forwards again so she could look at me up close, lying naked and shrivelled on her stomach like a discarded rag. I was unable to keep track of her growth, but she seemed to have become even larger than when she first picked me up.

I tried to gauge her emotion, her face was somehow both exactly the same yet even more beautiful and impossible to read due to its cosmic size. Locks of black and turquoise hair were flailing wildly all around her head as if submerged underwater. Occasionally more bolts of lightning would spark up in random places, and sparkle across parts of her face and hair. Her eyes were now spinning kaleidoscopes. Thousands of colours spiralled around her irises, many of which I couldn’t name like interlopers from beyond the visible spectrum. Her eyes beamed even more brightly than her body and caused complicated patterns of light to flicker across her body and mine. Yet besides all this terrifying splendour, the Siren’s aura was somehow matriarchal in a way that assuaged all fear I might have had.

The enormity and incomprehensible beauty of the creature I was lying on made her impossible to resist. The only thought going through my mind was a desire to submit to her. To make love to her. To give her everything I had. I had to find a way to do it, somehow. I knew that was what I wanted, it was what I had always wanted. But ironically it was now more unattainable than it had ever been.

Seeing there were very few options available to me, I simply began to kiss her. I lay down on my front and I kissed whatever parts of the Siren’s skin I could reach. Her flesh had an intense and sweet-smelling aroma. It tasted in a way like every fruit I had ever tried all mixed into one. Yet when I touched her with my tongue, her body gave me a sharp numbing shock as if to punish me for the transgression. But still, I kissed her. Over and over again. With every successive kiss, I felt like I was leaving more of myself behind. Each time it became harder to wrench my lips from her skin again. It was like her body contained a vacuum that meant to suck my very essence inside of it through porous skin. I tried to call out to tell her how much I loved her, but the noise that left my mouth was nothing more than a rasping death rattle.

After only a few kisses I was already exhausted. All my energy and will had evaporated away, slipped like water through my fingers. Though in its place was a new feeling. I sensed myself being called elsewhere. So struggling onwards with what little remained of my strength, I turned myself 180 degrees around and crawled down her stomach towards her open legs. I could still hear her laughing in the background but time itself felt as if it had slowed. Her voice caused the surface on which I was lying to lurch up and down, but I clung on as best I could. Julianna had grown so much now that even her navel took several successive heaves of my body to reach. But I knew where to go. At last, I knew what I wanted. And I was going to take it.

Finally, I reached the edge, I crawled on my hands and knees through the foliage that had sprouted up all around her crotch. Dense patches of grass and broad-leafed plants were bursting from her skin in place of pubic hair, and growing ever larger before my eyes. There were even some blooming orchids exuding their pleasant perfume, as well as vines that crept off of the edge of her body and dangled down into the emptiness beyond. I knew what lay there. I could hear it even as I came, but could only now see it as I neared the edge. Between her legs, a powerful waterfall had emerged. A rush of water coursed out her body from a source unseen and cascaded to the ground, 15 feet below me. It kicked up a cold spray into my face, and an impressive rainbow formed when the vapour caught the eery light that burst out of the Siren’s skin. With my destination in sight, I knew that what energy remained within me might be enough to fulfil my final desire, but little else.

I tested the rushing water with my hand at first. The current was so strong that there was a chance I would not be able to fight it back, but the water felt cool and inviting. The oppressive heat coming from the giantess had caused a thick layer of sweat to form all over my body, so I was desperate for refreshment. I took one last look back at the Siren’s face and swallowed my fear. With a final sharp intake of air, I slipped off the edge. I pushed back the torrent of water roaring from her vulva, forcing my body into the source.

I fell in, and the world dissolved away. I felt myself freed at last. No pain, no anxiety. Nothing. An eternal black void with only the last rays of light from the Siren’s body reflecting off of the interior of my eyes. But then they faded too. After a while, the only sensation I could hold on to was the sound of Julianna’s voice—unintelligible cries echoing in what remained of my ears.

When I finally awoke I felt very different. I tried to determine if I had been hurt during the hallucination I had suffered last night, but surprisingly I felt fine. Good—energised, even. But as I lay there staring upwards at the cloudless morning sky, I realised that I could not feel anything at all. I was unable to move.

Only a few minutes later did my vision change. I sensed my eyes blink involuntarily, followed by the sensation of being pulled upright by something. I was sitting in the centre of a vast pasture, lined on all sides by dense palisades of pine trees. Only a low stone wall broke the line of the trees at one side, with a small dirt path leading up a hill towards a house behind it. The field all around me was half-flooded with water, and the grass flattened to the point of unrecognisability, as if something vast and colossally heavy had crushed it back into the Earth.

I tried to use my arms to feel around my environment, but soon realised I could not. In fact, I could not even confirm that my arms, or my body, existed. Everything that was happening seemed out of my control. But just then, I sensed myself be lifted up into a standing position. My eye level rose up from the ground and when it reached its peak, a long and satisfied sigh erupted from my mouth. The voice that I heard was not my own. It was a woman’s.

Then, my head tipped forward, and what I saw nearly made me want to cry out in horror. Instead of my familiar pudgy male body, all I could see were two enormous breasts attached to my chest. They were terrifying in size, compressed to the point of suffocation inside a tight dress that was patterned with purple nebulae and stars. I could see to my left and right that locks of black and turquoise hair were falling across my shoulders and collar bone, but the breasts were so huge that I could not see any of my body beyond them.

The entire world then began to somersault. I felt myself tip forwards, but just before I crashed head first into the ground I stopped. My hands then emerged in front of me. On their own accord, they grabbed a pair of large black stilettos that were stuck half-embedded in the sodden ground. My hands inspected the shoes for while, compared them against my feet, and then eventually tossed them aside when it was clear they were several sizes too small.

I realised then that some feeling was returning to my body, only it was nothing I recognised. I felt keenly the annoying way that the masses of boob restricted my ability to fully bend down to get the shoes. I then felt their immense weight pull on my back when I stood up again. Yet, somehow, I managed it. Despite the incredible size of the two giant sacks of flesh that I was now forced to carry in front of me, I was stable. I then felt myself begin to walk forward, swinging my slender arms to and fro casually, as if the poorly distributed weight of my body was something I knew instinctively how to manoeuvre. My alarming lack of autonomy over my actions aside, I felt comfortable. This foreign body I was in was certainly much too large, but it actually felt surprisingly light. And strong. I felt stronger, in fact, than I could ever remember being.

I was in motion now. My body walked forward against my will, with my head glancing around to check its surroundings. Someone was using my hands for me, using them to touch various parts of my body. They squished the sides of my boobs together and then tugged at my dress to ensure what little of my body it was able to conceal was still doing the job.

I then reached the far edge of the field. My long legs stepped over the high stone wall with ease, but I then ran into more trouble with the low branches that dangled over the path leading up the hill. Finally, I reached the familiar marble balustrade of the frat house, and I stepped through the gate. The garden was a mess—red cups, empty bottles, and various other pieces of unidentifiable trash were strewn all over the place. The surface of the swimming pool was peppered with items of discarded clothing too. The only soul in sight was a shirtless man still passed out on one of the deck chairs.

I could hear voices coming from inside the house, so I walked toward them. Reaching the half-open French windows, I felt myself step through. My body seemed too large for the doorway though, meaning it was forced to bend over to fit inside. Once again I sensed the colossal weight of my chest pull down on my back, but my legs and back held strong enough to take it.

Inside was a similar state of ruin. More boys lying unconscious on sofas, and some on the floor as well. Two of them were awake but looked especially haggard. They had lit up a joint and were passing it slowly between them. I watched them as their sunken eyes followed me walking in a stooped configuration across the room. In that instant, I suddenly felt a foreign but powerful aura of warmth and pleasure enter my body from their direction. I wanted to double over from the intensity of the sensation but my body kept walking forward regardless. The feeling was frightening in its unfamiliarity at first, but unquestionably pleasurable—like a glorious, satiating nectar was being beamed invisibly through the air and then absorbed through every pore of my awaiting body. I felt my lungs inflate slowly to take it in. “Was she always that tall?” One of the boys said. “Jesus, her jugs look massive today,” said the other. Somehow I could hear them from across the room, and without them needing to open their mouths.

My body craned itself through the living room door and out into a spacious hallway that I was able to stand upright in. A few sorority girls were preening themselves in the mirror beside the front door, attempting to smear the previous night’s makeup into something presentable. I felt myself approach them from behind and look into the mirror. The face of Julianna stared back at me. Her stunning visage—with its usual implacable expression, impossible to read—was where my reflection should have been. Unlike the girls down below me, somehow all of her makeup was as immaculately applied as the night prior. Her shimmering black and turquoise hair fell down in perfect clean strands across her shoulders whereas theirs was matted and dirty.

Julianna and I looked down at the girls for a moment in unison, but quickly returned to the reflection when we realised they were invisible beneath the canopy of her chest. The three girls were so short that Julianna’s ginormous bosom came close to scraping the tops of their heads, a fact they were all clearly aware of. The girls shifted around uncomfortably to try and pull away from the imposing female body that towered over them. “Fuck, I forgot how huge this bitch was,” one of them said wordlessly as she averted her eyes from the mirror. I tried, but wasn’t able to receive the same nourishing warmth from her that I had from the boys. Only one of the girls in the group gave me that sensation—the one whose gaze remained transfixed on my breasts. “Oh God, just let me touch you. Please. Just once.” she thought.

Out in the street, I found myself in a state of peacefulness as I had never experienced before. Though I was no longer in control of my actions, just a mute and inert observer of everything that was happening to me, I was nevertheless fully experiencing every thought, feeling and sensation passing through my host like they were my own. I felt the Siren’s pleasure and elation as she strode confidently down the road. The cool morning breeze on our skin, the hard pavement under our bare feet. I could feel the tight dress constricting our body and digging into the flesh, but it was not unpleasant—it only reminded me of its majestic size. Most of all though I felt at ease. My mind could think thoughts with a clarity and precision that I hadn’t imagined possible. Unclouded by worries, anxieties, or confusion, everything made sense. The inner workings of the world were apparent—obvious, even.

Soon, I found myself on a busy suburban road—the campus, and my dormitory lay off towards the far end, and all alongside me were students leaving their houses and apartments to take the same early-morning journey. They were all so small, I thought. Even the basketball players walking along in their sneakers and athletic gear were two heads shorter than I. It seemed to upset them when they saw me.

I could hear various students talking silently behind my back. Wondering why I was still in my dress at this time in the morning, if I was taking the walk of shame. They wondered how tall I was, or if I had always been this tall. Some boys would think nasty, venomous thoughts about all the things they would do to my body if they got the chance. Images of my naked breasts flickered through their mind’s eyes, occasionally with their stunted penises being swallowed up inside my cleavage. They imagined the noises I might make if I allowed them to penetrate me. If, despite my strength and stature, I might submit to them like any other girl. Oddly enough, these were the thoughts I loved the most. The sicker they were, or the more pitiful the thinker, the more excited they made me feel. That strange nourishing sensation returned every time. It filled me with some dark emotion I was unable to pinpoint exactly—activating a sense I could not name.

As I walked towards the campus I made sure to look down at all the boys having those thoughts about me. I ignored them for the most part—I was content enough to bask in the despicable things that went through their minds as they watched me stride quickly past and overtake them. But every so often, I would catch the attention of a different sort of boy, one whose desires lay buried deeper. With those boys, I would slow slightly, enough time to look down and offer a sultry flutter of my eyelids, before walking on, my hair blowing in the wind behind me.

Art by WinterWarning at DeviantArt. Read the rest of my stories at my page. I'm just experimenting posting on here to see if there is an audience. Definitely not a fan of using this interface to post long text, but I want to find other places than DA for posting my work.

38 notes · View notes

worldofroma · 10 months

Text

April 21 2023, Friday - 1:10pm

It’s been quite a while since I’ve gotten the chance to write on this again. A lot of shit has happened, actually.

I got super sick. Like, super fucking sick. Pretty sure it was COVID as I was completely bed-ridden for 4 days, my head and ears full of pressure and my throat hurting so bad I could barely breathe. Not only that, but everytime I did breathe, I made a weird gurgling kind of sound and it was absolutely disgusting.

I got a job. Finally. But I’m working at Tim Hortons. Gross. I’ve learned how they make some of my favourite drinks, foul. Yet I’ll still continue to drink them almost every damn day.

Practiced driving a lot more as my driving test for G2 is coming up next Tuesday. Was doing great until my instructor told me that they think I’ll be fine on the test, immediately ran a stop sign and turned the opposite way that I had my signal on for. Nice.

Discovered the side of me that could be considered a slut. But now I understand the reason why so many women turn to it, it’s so exciting and quite frankly entertaining. Theres this stupid website, some kind of thing for pen pals, idfk, but the amount of disgusting men on there is outstanding. I made an account and within 10 minutes, I had 17 messages from 17 different men (yes, men, all over the age of 25) telling me how beautiful I am and the things they’d love to do to my “young, teen body”. Fucking disgusting. But, I reply anyways. I’m addicted to the attention they give me and how little effort I have to put in to getting it. All I have to do is respond with short, sweet, and flirty answers and they’re all over me. I love it.

Met someone on the website who I think is my twin flame. He’s only a few months younger than me, lowkey cringe, but we are so alike. But, now that we’ve been texting back and fourth for a good 5 days now, I’ve definitely been humbled. In short, let’s just say we used this app called RAVE to watch a movie without being in the same place. He chose the movie. He chose Fight Club. Need I say more?

I’m writing this on the last day of my co-op, thank the lord. I kind of feel bad for hating it, but I told the teacher I was an assistant for that I enjoyed it even though almost every day I sat at the back table cutting out laminated cards or instructions to a game I never knew existed. It was dreadful, but I managed.

I killed a bug today, a big brown shiny one that made a crunching noise when I stepped on it. Felt really bad afterwards. Don’t really know why, I’ve never cared before.

Oh, and back to the guy I mentioned in 5, his name is Atlas by the way, he’s so smart yet so fucking douchy about it. Not in a bad way though, I honestly enjoy being told by him. But at one point, we had this super long typical conversation about the meaning of life and what happens after death. He’s fully convinced that there is no God, there is no Heaven or Hell. There’s just nothing after death. And he’s okay with it too, but I’m not sure I am. I think that might be why I felt bad for killing the bug. All it was trying to do was hide under some shelf but I purposely went out of my way to end it’s life in a split second, leaving it in the emptiness of the afterlife forever on. Atlas also told me that he killed someone, or may have at least. Apparently he was drunk some time ago and was approched by an even more drunk old man who tried to come onto him, rape him I guess, and he beat him to the point he has no clue if the man survived. He also told me he’d be willing to eat human flesh. I don’t know why, but I’m not afraid of him like anyone else would be after hearing this stuff from him. I actually find it rather comforting that he trusts me enough to tell me things like that after not even knowing me for a week yet. He says he’s really glad we met, but I think if we ever met in real life, it would be catastrophic.

Also, yesterday I skipped co-op just to sleep. Woke up at 7:30, decided I didn’t want to go, and then went back to bed only to wake up at 2pm without waking once. I think If I had the choice, I’d stay in bed forever. Now I understand My Year of Rest and Relaxation.

So thats what my life has been like recently. Fucking hell if you ask me. But on top of everything thats going on, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my future is going to look like. If I want to get anywhere in this world without living a life of depression, I need to marry rich. In this world, you don’t get anywhere without aqquiring a job in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math) and I fucking hate all four of those things. All I want to do is write. I want to write stories that someone will read once and remember for the rest of their lives. I want to be a movie director so I can bring those books to life and create a masterpiece out of each one. But you don’t get anywhere like that without money and as of right now, I have $2.09 in my bank account. Savings and all. And by the looks of it, I’ll either be marrying someone extremely fucked up and insane like Atlas, or some rich old perverted white guy who will be willing to give me anything if I strip down. And in all honesty, I don’t mind either. As long as I’m getting the attention I deserve and the time to spend on writing, I couldn’t give a shit who I spend it with.

Also, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be capable of loving someone. I remember this one time before we broke off completely, Kyra and I decided to take a break from our friendship as I didn’t feel I was getting anything out of it compared to what I was putting into the friendship. My stepdad, Paul, decided to tell me during that break that he was convinced Kyra and I were in some kind of secret relationship because of how often we’d spend time together, but we were only so close because we only had each other for years. During that conversation, he went on to tell me that no matter how long we spend a part, we would always find our way back to being friends because even if we didn’t want to admit it, we loved each other. This was after I made it clear that I’m straight, by the way, so this so called love was more just in a family way because it was the only other option. But that wasn’t the case. Her and I never had any love for each other, only depdenance and a sort of guilt that if we didn’t hang out with each other, we’d be a bad person. A bad friend. I realized that after she started hanging out with me only to use my weed and get my mother to buy her pods. Another reason I don’t think I could ever love someone is because I have no commitment skills. If I ever somehow get in a relationship with a guy, I can almost guarantee that I’ll be tired of them before the 1 year mark, if I even make it that far. It’s kind of funny it worked out that way though seeing I have serious abandonment issues. If I get abandoned, I’ll never recover from it, but if I abandon someone else, they’ll likely never cross my mind again unless it’s because I’m internally insulting them. This is why I know I’m not a good person. I’m selfish. I don’t care about how my actions affect others, but if someone were to hurt me, I’d find a way to make them pay for it.

Another thing that’s been on my mind lately is what kind of illness I have. I don’t want to be diagnosed because as much as it can be nice to know how to treat whatever I have, then I’ll know for sure that theres something wrong with me that can never truly be fixed. Also, then I’ll know that I’m nothing more than a younger version of my parents, the mixture of those two being the worst possible outcome of a child there can be. I’d rather just go on forever thinking that whatevers wrong with me could just be in my head, whether that sounds better or not. But I know theres something wrong with me, and Atlas knows too. He and I were talking about the issues we had since he’s not a stranger with mental health issues either. He’s an insomniac (or so he says, I honestly think he may just be adapting the personality of that guy from Fight Club after he was so eager to show me), and he clearly has some kind of personality disorder. Likely DID he says, and he thinks thats what I have too. He says that those occurances I’ve had where I’ve done awful things without having a reason, such as attempting to run away, could be the result of untreated DID. In all honesty, even if I haven’t spoken to him for very long, it’s kind of obvious he does have DID. Sometimes when I’m messaging him, I notice a split in his personality that he thinks is normal. We’ll both be talking about really personal things, things I often mention in here, and he’ll randomly tell me to stop talking about it so he doesn’t start spiralling or doesn’t want to come off as someone who doesn’t care about my problems. Regardless, he’s not shy when it comes to telling me to shut up. Frankly, I’m not sure if that’s really DID or him being flat out about not caring what I have to say. It’s odd though, because other times he tells me how glad he is that we met and that we’re able to chat and gets a little impatient when I don’t answer him right away either, which is why I do believe he has DID. But again, he could just be a shitty person. I’m not sure what I’d rather him be.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this yet, but I think I also might have some kind of schizo illness. I say schizo illness and not schizophrenia because schizophrenics aren’t often aware of themselves having it, but I do have a lot of the symptoms and I’m fully aware of it. I’m constantly seeing people or figures or animals, my cats in particular, in random places wherever I am. Sometimes just out of the corner of my eye, other times they’ll be right in front of me until I look at them. It only freaks me out when they’re moving, though. It’s always super quick and right towards me, it’s fucking chilling. Also, when it’s too quiet, I hear things talking to me. Men, women, children, old people. I always hear it, but it’s not common for me to understand what they’re saying. A lot of the time, it’s jumbled or sounds like they’re under water almost. Sometimes I hear whistling too. It’s weird. I also get extreme paranoia. Everyone always has that one emotion their driven by whether it’s happiness, sadness, anger, blah blah blah. But what drives me most of the time is fear. Anxiety. It’s so bad that sometimes when I’m in my room by myself for too long, I start thinking that whatever screen is in front of me such as my phone or tv will randomly get hacked into and jumpscare me with horrific images and loud noises. When has that ever happened? Never. What are the chances of it happening? Likely slim to nothing. Yet I think about it almost daily and when I do, I have to leave the room and stare at a wall or I’ll have a panic attack. Similarly, I get extra paranoid at night and find it really hard to leave my room after a certain time. I’m afraid that once the lights are out, something will be lurking in the dark ready for whenever I dare to step foot out. I never know what this thing will do to me, but I don’t want to find out which is why sometimes I’ll go to bed with a full bladder or a full face of make up on. I can’t even go to the bathroom without freaking out about something that’s not even there. I’ve convinced myself that wherever I go, specifically my home and bathroom, a camera or thousands of cameras are watching me. I don’t know whos watching me, but whoever is is judging me and making fun of me so I have to be perfect all the time. I’m constantly worrying about what I’m doing, what I said, what I look like because of it. I think theres someone secretly living in my basement. My trapped door basement. When I’m home alone, I hear people walking around downstairs and moving things around. Sometimes, I’ll lose things for months and then it’ll randomly appear in the most obvious place I would’ve found only seconds after I’d realized it was lost. Someones fucking with me. Sometimes I think that I have the ability to ‘regenerate’ or ‘heal’ faster than others. Yes I get sick, but I’m convinced that I can fight off any kind of illness or injury much faster than others. I can do it without medications, unlike everyone else. Yet I constantly worry about getting cancer or some unfixable illness. It doesn’t add up. Now that I’m writing all this, I realized how pathetic it all sounds, but it’s the truth. I live like this everyday and I don’t tell a single person. I keep it all in. Not because I’m afraid of what they may say or think of me or what the outcome may be, I simply can’t bring myself to say it. I don’t know why, but I just can’t. No matter how close I get to saying it, I always switch the topic or lie about what I really feel, even to my therapist. I think she knows I’m lying too because almost every appointment she asks “Are you telling me everything or is there something else I should know about? I’m only asking because it’s easy for anyone to put on a mask and fake things.” But I know she knows. And I feel bad for lying about it. It’s not that I don’t trust her or think she’s a bad therapist or anything like that, I think she’s a great person for me to talk to. I honestly just can’t talk about it. Not only that, but it’s just so much easier to force a smile and tell her that I’m fine.

I know that if I ever do admit it, I’ll cry and I hate crying. I don’t even remember the last time I had a good hard cry, I almost feel as if I don’t deserve the tears. That, and the things I could cry about don’t deserve the tears. It’s pointless. I also hate the way I look after I cry. My eyes get all swollen and gross looking and don’t return to normal for a good day or two. Why would I foil my appearance on things that don’t matter. Things I’ll forget within a month or even sooner.

#literature #journaling #aspiring writer

0 notes

nightmareofmenses · 2 years

Text

Idk how to make a read more or whatever sorry if this is annoying (I guess who am I even apologizing to) but I just have to uhhhh scream about how much I love my partner Daniel. We’ve been dating (still sounds SO weird to say) for 2 months. I don’t know who knows this but we’ve been friends for 5 years we met playing the last of us online lol and I was married but I had a crush on him and really started to fall for him 3 years ago so I eventually left my ex husband and fully committed to falling in love with Daniel in 2020. he’s 1 year younger than me (34/35) and has never been in a relationship or even kissed anyone I am his first everything and he only showed me his face AFTER we officially started dating (he’s maybe on the spectrum and has severe social anxiety and self esteem issues) and he’s so?? fucking adorable? I mean I love Him so of course I think he’s adorable. He’s Canadian and his first language is French so I have been learning for the last 2 years it’s been so much fun. Trying to go to see him asap.

The batshit craziness of how we got together… I had told him that I was in love with him and it scared the shit out of him so for like a year we battled and played games of the heart, we basically acted like a couple but with his luxury of claiming to be not ready for a relationship/adventure.. then this summer I randomly met this French guy on an app called Tandem (meet people to learn language with) and fell in weirdly with him (it was fine, I think I loved him, it was just really fast and I was still in love with Daniel), that was a dramatic 2 months. I decided that I had been patient enough with Daniel and it was time to move on?? I knew it wasn’t but I was at my wits end. It was some crazy Jane Austen bullshit. I was just like okay the man I love won’t be with me, and I was ready to settle for Frenchie. At first it was okay, I even talked about him to Daniel (who definitely seemed uncomfortable hearing about it but fuck if he said absolutely nothing plus he straight up had said to me in the past he couldn’t be with me) and thought I could be friends with Daniel LOL well it basically boiled over and I had to choose to cut Daniel out of my life and move on or be alone forever (convincing myself Daniel would never man up). So after an emotional therapy session I was going to have the Goodbye Conversation with Daniel towards the end of July. It did not go well. I knew i couldn’t live without him. Daniel, who had never said these words before, choked out through tears that he loved me and wanted to be with me. And a switch flipped in my brain, in my soul. I was like « oh okay I shall break up with frenchie tomorrow » and we fell asleep on discord. The next morning I woke up and he said « Jenni? Je t’aime » and I… well, still to this day wonder if I’m dreaming. I love him so much, so intensely. It’s cosmic. It’s automatic.

Anyway, don’t really know how to end this except wow. I really got the silly slow burn friends to lovers trope of my dreams.

Good night.

#it can’t go without saying that I most likely have borderline and he is my FP lol but that is another loooong quazy tale #also listening to mitski during all of this? onkay #i have years of notes and journals full of pining and yearning #clown hours #she says to no one who cares

0 notes

midgardianweasley · 3 years

Text

The Royal Ball

Loki laufeyson x Fem!reader

Summary: There is an Asgard ball being hosted in the palace, Y/N is yet to find a date to accompany her. She’s disappointed when a certain God doesn’t ask her, however, what happens when he sees someone else getting a little too close for comfort throughout the night?

Warnings: lil bit angsty, self doubt, JEALOUS LOKI, fluffy ending

Word Count: 3.3k

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Requests are open loves <3

Y/F/N - Your Friend’s Name

It was a beautiful autumn’s day, crisp brown leaves were falling off of the large trees in the courtyard and scattering the cobbled ground. Loki and I had been wandering around for some time now, discussing everything from the books we’ve been reading to the dreams that have come to us in our sleep.

“And then this huge ghost thing was chasing me around the halls! and if that wasn’t weird enough, you popped up-”

“Ah, seeing me in your dreams are we, darling?” Loki chuckled, taking great pleasure at the fact that he had made an appearance in my subconscious, completely ignoring my distress at being chased by a supernatural being.

“Funny you should say that, right after seeing you, I woke up. The sight must’ve given me quite the scare.” I scoffed, a smile unable to stop itself from making its way onto my face, eyes meeting his, face etched with shock. With a hand to his chest, he spoke again in disbelief.

“You have truly offended me, love. I never knew you had this side to you.”

“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” I winked, nudging his side slightly with my elbow.

“Really? Can you produce illusions?”

“No.”

“Look inside other people’s heads?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Turn yourself into a snake to scare your eight year old brother?”

“I still can’t believe you did that”

“My greatest achievement yet.” He smirked, the memory never failing to amuse him.

His stories always had me in awe of his capabilities, even if it was to give his brother a long-term fear, it was still an incredible talent. Whenever he tells me of his latest adventures or tricks, I always think of how well his title fits him. God of Mischief. Maybe that’s why I liked him much more than what a best friend should, not that I'd ever admit it. Not to him anyway.

We soon found ourselves standing next to one of the windows of the hallway, the crystal clear glass giving a beautiful view of the city of Asgard. From here, you could see the Queen’s gardens, full of flowers in all different colours and types, grass cut to perfection. You could see the families in the town, walking around the different buildings, children playing. It was lovely to watch, seeing everyone enjoy the seasonal weather and the light bounce off of the windows, it was ethereal.

“I never get tired of this.” I sighed, voice only slightly above a whisper

“Tired of what, love?”

“Just, this. This view, this kingdom, it’s incredible.” I looked up at Loki, trying to see if he was seeing the same beauty that I did. He was already looking at me when I met his eyes and upon seeing the way they sparkled, I assumed he did.

“Actually, speaking of the Kingdom, I have something to tell you. There’s-”

Abruptly stopping him from continuing his sentence, voices were heard from the other end of the hallway, though we couldn’t make out the words until they came closer. We gave each other a quick look of confusion before turning to see where the commotion was coming from, hearing the quick and heavy footsteps before being able to put names to the faces.

“Loki! Y/N!” A deep voice bellowed. Was that Thor making all of that noise?

Before I could process any more information, a blur of a pastel pink dress was in my face and hands were placed on my shoulders. I smiled down at the slightly out of breath figure using me as a support stand, it was Y/F/N.

“Wow, Y/F/N, you sound much different than when I spoke to you yesterday, did you drink something funny?” I chuckled, receiving a glare from my friend and a quiet laugh from the God beside me. Thor soon appeared next to Y/F/N, hands on his hips and head thrown back as he tried to compose himself.

“My God, Y/F/N, you run fast.” He pants.

“Care to tell us why you’re both running like madmen through the palace?” Loki speaks, one eyebrow raised in curiosity and what looked a little like concern.

“We..had to..tell you..there’s a ball..next week.” Y/F/N spoke, a bit more stable now, but still in between breaths.

I felt my eyes widen, a ball? I didn’t know Asgard held balls.

“Father is opening up the palace next week to neighbouring kingdoms, in hopes to be closer with them, open Asgard up to more trade opportunities, build relationships and whatnot.” Thor explained, emitting a loud sigh to come from Loki.

“I was just about to tell her, brother. Thank you for interrupting.” He rolled his eyes, half joking, half serious. I reached up and patted his shoulder gently, a small smile on my face.

“Maybe next time Lok” He nodded in response, I didn’t get a chance to comfort him much more before I was being pulled away by Y/F/N. With a small huff of surprise, I gave Loki a glance, silently apologising for our conversation being cut short, receiving a shake of his head in reply, affirming me to not worry about it.

“So.” she begins. “We need to find you a date and a dress. I’m thinking blue. I’m wearing purple so it’s probably best to avoid that one. Hmm. let’s see..oh! I know! we could- Y/N? You listening?” I snapped my head around, not missing the sly smile that was plastered all over my friend’s face.

“Y/F/N, don’t-”

“Loki! He has to be your date. You could wear green and match! If he’s even going to wear green, I'm sure I can get Thor to find out, I assume they’ll get ready together. And black accessories! I have so many ideas.” She clapped her hands, over-excited about the opportunity to plan this evening for us. Except for one minor detail.

“That sounds great, Y/F/N, it sounds wonderful, you’re just missing something.”

“Missing something? Oh, if you mean our hair then i’ve already-”

“No, not our hair. Loki hasn’t asked me, and I doubt he will.” I spoke, the second half coming out more as a whisper, my heart dropping a little at the thought. He’d never really expressed having those kinds of feelings for me and I'd always seen him be close with different girls around the palace, he’ll probably ask one of them.

“He might ask you, you never know what’s around the corner.”

“I guess so, we’ll have to wait and see.”

And that was the last we spoke of it before she went into full planner mode again, while I continued to ponder over all of the thoughts running through my head. I mean, he could ask me, right?

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

He didn’t.

After talking about it with Y/F/N, I had a glimmer of hope that maybe I was wrong, maybe I hadn’t noticed something that she had, that Loki would approach me and ask me to be his company for the evening.

I spent the next couple of days with him, hoping he would ask me, everytime a pause would appear in conversation, maybe he was finally going to do it. And everytime, a little bit of the hope I had, had fizzled out.

I’d even considered other reasons as to why he hadn’t asked, maybe the King didn’t want him and Thor to have dates so that they could mingle with members of the other kingdoms. Of course that theory had flown right out one of the Palace’s windows when Y/F/N told me that Thor was going to be her date. I was right then, he wasn’t wanting to go with me.

I guess I understood, I’m the best friend, we’d always been that. I think a part of me just thought that maybe he, like me, wanted something a little more. Clearly, I was mistaken.

Y/F/N and I had been getting ready for a while now, our hair was styled to perfection, our dresses were on and both of us were fully accessorized. We were looking at ourselves in the mirror, doing spins and curtseys and gushing over how good the other looked.

“You look amazing tonight, Y/N, really. Loki is missing out.”

“Thank you, and I'm sure his date is beautiful.” I spoke, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress, trying to avoid the subject and the twisting knot in my stomach at the thought of him with someone else all night. “You look incredible! You were right to pick purple, it’s definitely your colour.”

“Y/N’s right, you look gorgeous.” Thor declared, leaning against the doorway sporting a black suit and a dark purple tie, the perfect match with his date’s dress. I could feel my eyes light up when seeing how happy the simple, yet effective comment had made Y/F/N. Rushing over, she engulfed Thor in a hug before leaning up slightly and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Ah and can’t forget, Y/N, you look stunning tonight.” He gestured to me, arm almost scanning me up and down.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” I laughed. “You both head off, I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure? We don’t mind waiting?” Y/F/N questioned.

“Don’t be silly. You guys go on ahead, I'll meet you there.”

With a nod and a wave, they were off. They really did look like a perfect match tonight. I continued to look at myself in the mirror, fixing any stray hairs, flattening any kinks in my dress. Realistically, I was probably trying to prolong leaving for as long as I could. I was excited, but I was turning up on my own while everyone else had someone, it was a bit nerve-wracking. I still wanted to look my best though.

“Stop trying to convince yourself that you look good, you could literally blow an army of men away by looks alone.” A voice spoke, I spun to see who was speaking, the flash of green was enough to decipher who it was.

“You look lovely tonight, darling.” He grinned, the pet name had set off butterflies in my stomach.

“Thank you. As do you.”

“Well, I did put in an effort, nice to know it’s appreciated.” He joked, a breathy laugh left my lips, entertained by his words.

“Yes, well, I'm sure plenty of others will too.”

“The eyes will never leave me, I'm sure. Unless they’re on you, then I'd be surprised if I get even so much as a glimpse in my direction. Someone is a very lucky guy tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, confused by his statement.

“Well, they get to be beside you all evening, it’s a beautiful view.” He winked.

It could’ve been you, I thought. I knew he was joking, however that didn’t stop the fire in me from igniting.

“I could say the same for you, someone is a very lucky girl.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know if she ever thinks otherwise.” Joking, again.

So he had asked someone. Albeit disappointed, I'm happy he’s happy. Though I still wish I was the girl in question, I couldn't stop him if he was interested in someone else. That wasn’t fair.

Giving him a brief nod and a tight lipped smile, I picked up the front of my dress a little bit and made my way out of the room and downstairs to the ball. I could still enjoy myself, the night is young, I've got this.

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

“It was crazy! And let me tell you, my dad was so angry with me. He didn’t let me serve Turkey again after that year.” Charlie, a guy that I had met an hour or so ago, finished his story of the Christmas horror he had, allowing me to relax for the first time that evening. Up until now, it had felt like all I’d seen was either happy couples, or stares from across the room. Usually the second and usually Loki. The same Loki who had a girl’s arm linked with his and was looking at him like he held the world in his grasp. I broke the gaze, finding it difficult to look at the pair for any longer, as I turned back to Charlie so he could have my attention again, a lazy smile was present as he took a sip of his wine.

“I don’t blame him, really, it sounds like you started a riot!” I exclaimed, sending us both into a full on belly laugh, thinking back to the story. This continued for another five or so minutes, laughter turning into a low chuckle, as if we were about to be told off for how loud we were being. Just as my hand had reached his arm to help hold me up, saving me from laughing myself into the ground, Loki and his date had made their way over.

“Enjoying ourselves, I hope?” He beamed, taking one look at me before giving his full attention to Charlie.

“Yes, yes we are, thank you. How about the two of you?”

“Ye-”

“It’s been fine, yeah, good. So, what’s your name then?” Loki interrupted, his date having no choice but to leave him to respond instead.

“I’m Charlie Fernsby.” He held his hand out, greeting Loki. A gesture that was very awkwardly not reciprocated as he let his hand fall back to his side before Loki spoke up again.

“Charlie..Charlie, now, isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“Loki!” I scolded, giving him an evil side glance, what was he doing?

“No, no it’s okay. Yeah, it can be used for girls too, but it's common for boys to have the name Charlie.” Polite as ever, he responded. A mischievous look made its way onto the God’s face. Oh no.

“So, I take it your parents wanted a girl?”

“I- I’m sorry?”

“I assume your parents wanted a girl, considering they’ve given you a girl’s name?” I rolled my eyes, this teasing was unnecessary.

“Charlie, let’s go and get a drink.” I tried to tug him away, only to be halted by another sentence leaving my best friend’s mouth.

“It was only a question, I'm sure he doesn’t mind answering, do you Carl?”

“Charlie.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said-” I tried to interject, but he was quick to stop me

“I know what I said, Y/N, but I'm speaking to him. Let him answer the question.”

Loki’s date was long gone by now, she’d left to speak to another group of people, presumably another few couples, leaving us three to have this discussion, thing, whatever you would think to call it.

“I’m just saying, maybe they would’ve preferred a daughter, seeing as they’ve very obviously made that clear.” He beamed, expecting me to join in and agree with him, I don’t find this funny. At all.

“Can you excuse us, Charlie? Loki, A word.” I pointed to the door, giving him a look implying for him not to test me.

“I’m in trouble. Wish me luck Carlos.”

“Charlie.”

“I know, that’s what I said.”

I pushed him all the way out the door, into the hallway and round the corner so as not to disturb everyone else’s evening. When I’d made sure there was no one else around, I looked up at the Asgardian, my arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, I wasn’t impressed anymore.

“So, are we out here for some hide or seek, or?”

“What the hell was that in there?!” I raised my voice slightly, his need to always make everything a joke wasn’t working this time. He had his night, his date, he didn’t need to come over and insult mine.

“What was what, darling? I was making conversation.”

“You were making fun of him.”

“No, I showed some concern about his parents choices, that’s all. Friendly advice if anything.” He looked a bit more frustrated with me now, as though he was stating the obvious and it was going over my head. I wasn’t having it this time.

“No, Loki. You weren’t and you know you weren’t. You had your date, she was fine, you were fine-”

“Well-”

“Let me finish. Everything was fine. Until you caught sight of me having a friendly conversation with another guy who wasn’t you. But guess what Lok, I’m allowed to do that! I’m an adult, I can speak with whoever I like!” My arms were all over the place now, my frustration was starting to show itself, it seems I had a bit pent up.

I saw his lips move, I heard something, but it was so quiet I couldn't make it out.

“Speak up, Loki. I can’t hear you.”

“I said, if you think he was just being friendly, you’re clearly out of your mind.”

Is he serious?

“Are you- Loki, you have no right to make a judgement on who and how and why I interact with other people. Not that it should matter to you anyway, you’ve spoken to other women before and I've never said a word or tried to stop you. Why does this matter so much?”

Silence.

“No, please, go on, tell me, enlighten me as to why this bothered you so much tonight, because trust me, I'm dying to know, truly.” I was shouting now, I just wanted answers for his behaviour, I didn’t think it would be this difficult.

His hands had made his way into his trouser pockets, eyes looking everywhere before settling on mine. He looked conflicted, I wanted to drop it when I saw his troubled gaze, but I couldn’t go back in there without an explanation.

“Ple-”

“I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, love? That I was so uncomfortable seeing some you get close with some guy that I had to embarrass him in front of you? Something I'm sure my father won’t be so impressed to hear, but there, you’ve got your confession.” His voice had gone much louder than mine, taking me by surprise, so much so that it took me a minute to process what he had said. He liked me?

He turned to leave, I assume because I hadn't said anything for a matter of minutes, but I gently grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards me. I looked up into his eyes again. I was so close that you could see the specs of different colours spotted in them, they were flawless. This view beats the Asgard view anyday.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Worried I guess. We’d never spoken of moving past friendship and I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I’m more than interested, Loki.” I grinned, my smile meeting my eyes, never leaving his.

“Not Chelsey?”

“For the love, it’s Ch-”

I couldn’t say his name, a certain pair of lips had stopped me from doing so. As they molded against mine, my hands went up to tangle themselves in his hair, his hands falling to my waist and pulling me closer, I didn’t even think that could be possible. We pulled away when we needed to catch a breath, foreheads falling against each other, smiles painted on both of our faces.

“I bet I'll be in your dreams again tonight.” He whispered.

“I bet I'll be in yours.”

“Always are, Darling. Always are.”

taglist: @horrorxweasley

570 notes · View notes

weasleylangs · 3 years

Text

crossed wires - g.w

Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, Platonic Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: George has always felt second best to Fred. He’s never blamed Fred, of course, but the jealousy is getting to be too much when he’s convinced the girl of his dreams is in love with his twin. Warnings: Miscommunication, jealousy, swearing Word Count: 3k

A/N: Oh look it’s Fae who can’t go three fics without writing friends to lovers with miscommunication wah. I combined two requests I got so I hope both of the anons enjoy it!! Also thank you to the lovely Zahra who once again helped me with a title <3

taglist: @amourtentiaa @whizboingies @harrysweasleys @lumos-barnes @weelittleweasley @freds-slut @starlightweasley @weasleyclaw @spacexcowgirl @lumosandnoxwriting @peroxide-prinxcesss (sorry your tag isnt working D:)

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

It was a nice, warm spring day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and as usual, George finds Y/N sitting by the lake with a muggle book in her hand. Her usual weekend plan was simple, all she ever wanted to do was read, catching up on the story she’d left behind the weekend before.

It was one of the things George loved about her, that she was always able to sneak a book in somewhere and lose herself in the pages no matter what chaos was going on at the time. He stood a bit behind her, admiring her for a brief moment. Her hair was pulled up into space buns, loose pieces of hair falling and framing her face as she shook her head to move them out of her sight. She was curled up on a blanket she’d dragged down from Gryffindor tower and she was leaning against the tree right at the shore of the lake.

“Oi, Y/L/N!” George yelled and while he immediately regretted disturbing her, the cute look on her face she gave him for interrupting it made his heart swoon. “What do you want, Weasley?”

She squints as if she’s trying to work out which twin is standing there but they both know she hasn’t mixed the twins up since she was 12. “Wanted your attention, as always.” He winks and Y/N hides behind her book in hopes he doesn’t see the shy look that overtakes her face. They’ve been friends for seven years, but George’s relentless and joke flirting never fails to make her face warm.

“Have you heard about Lee and Alicia?” George says, sitting down next to the girl and Y/N sighs, accepting she isn’t going to get any further into her book right now. “Did Alicia reject him?” The boy shakes his head as he chuckles.

“Quite the opposite really. Thought she was going to cry of happiness when he’d asked her to Hogsmeade today.”

Y/N ponders his words. Lee and Alicia have always been a hard pair to pinpoint. One second they were flirting and annoying everyone with their public displays of affection and the next they were fighting over something stupid. “Hopefully this stops them bickering over my bacon and eggs in the morning,” Y/N mutters as she closes her book.

She’s acutely aware that everyone in their year is starting to seriously pair up. Fred and Angelina had gone to the Yule Ball together the year before, she knows for a fact Roger Davis plans on asking Patricia Stimpson out sometime this week and with Lee and Alicia seemingly confirming their relationship she gets uneasy.

“How do people do it?” She asks no one in particular, “I’m so scared of rejection I could never just ask someone out.” George knows how she feels, after all, he’s been wanting to ask out the girl in front of him for weeks, months maybe even years at this point. But he’s always been convinced no one sees him outside of the duo that is Fred and George, nothing more than a star quidditch player alongside his brother, a pranking prodigy alongside his brother.

“I don’t know, I barely mustered up the courage to ask you to the Yule Ball last year,” they both chuckle at the memory of George stumbling over his words as he asked Y/N to the ball ‘as a friend’, although George never admitted it to anyone, he so desperately wanted it to be more than friends.

“I want to tell the boy I like that I like him but…” She trails off and George wonders why she’s being so coy. “I don’t know how to go about it.”

George thinks for a moment, thoroughly convinced Y/N is asking him because he’s positive she’s been crushing on Fred since their fifth year.

“Well…” He pauses. Or should he tell her how Fred would like to be confessed to? “Something extravagant, of course. A grand gesture,” he laughs awkwardly and he knows Y/N isn’t fully convinced by the way she looks at him but she hums in agreement nonetheless.

“Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a grand gesture romance kind of boy, Georgie…” She trails off and George resists the urge to tell her he actually told her how Fred would like to be confessed too, but before he knows it, she’s standing. “I have to go meet Angie, I’ll see you late George.”

George has been sulking all day at this point that not even a prank on Filch can get him to smile. Fred and Lee have been pestering him all day to ‘fess up what’s bothering him but he refuses to budge. He knows that if he even hints at what’s bothering him, Fred will reject Y/N and while he wants nothing more than to be the one she confesses to, he doesn’t wish the embarrassment of rejection on her.

“I think Georgie’s got girl problems,” Lee says, nudging Fred and puckering his lips as if to kiss him. Fred laughs and shoves Lee away, teasing him with a threat to tell Alicia he’s moving onto a Weasley brother but stops when he realises George isn’t laughing alongside them. “Wait, is it a girl problem, Georgie?”

George can’t meet Fred’s eye for the first time in his life, but he knows he can never keep anything from his twin flame. “Yeah, it is.” The boys beside him whoop and holler, teasingly saying Georgie’s got a crush before they sit down on the couch in front of him. “What’s wrong, then? She rejected you?”

George sighs, “No, no… I’m just positive she likes someone else.” Lee scoffs at this. “As if, you’re George Weasley, mate.” George laughs at Lee’s comment, knowing Lee is being completely honest.

“Well, even if I am George Weasley, I’m just pretty sure she likes a different Weasley,” George says, not being able to meet Fred’s eye. George, admittedly, has no reasoning for believing Y/N likes Fred, it’s just always been the case. He’s never blamed Fred for this though, Fred has always just been the more noticed twin due to the fact he’s more exuberant and honestly, it never bothered him.

Until now.

It’s two days later when Y/N drags Fred by his robes into an empty corridor. George hasn’t even looked in Y/N’s direction since their talk about crushes and she’s starting to get fed up, and what better place to get insider information than from his twin brother who doubles as his best friend.

“Geeze, woman, what is your problem?” Fred asks, fixing his robes that have now fallen off his shoulders. “What’s going on with George?” she demands.

Fred looks at her confused, having not noticed anything different going on with George beside his obvious sulking over a girl but he knows better than to mention anything like that to Y/N. Unlike George, Y/N was very happy to spill the beans regarding her raging crush on George to his twin brother and Fred’s been subtly trying to get them together ever since. When he asked Angelina to the ball last year, he purposely did it in front of both George and Y/N in hopes to inspire George to ask her to the ball himself and he can only hope that Lee and Alicia finally making it official could serve as some inspiration for his oblivious best friends.

But now George has a crush on a girl, and while Fred hopes with everything he has that it’s on Y/N but he can’t be sure.

“I haven’t noticed anything wrong with George,” Fred says, hoping Y/N doesn’t pick up on the lie. “We’ve been working on shop business, maybe he’s just busy?”

Y/N pouts at this, wondering what she’d done for George to only act weird around herself. She plays with the ends of the sleeves of her robe as she thinks back to their last conversation, “I think I made him uncomfortable.”

Fred cocks his head in confusion. George’s best friend beside himself and Lee has always been Y/N, and Fred thinks there’s not a thing in the world she could do that would make George upset, but before he can question her, she speaks again. “I mentioned I wanted to tell the boy I like that I like him but I think… I think maybe he realised I liked him and he’s backing away so my feelings go away.”

Fred notices the tears starting to fill Y/N’s eyes and he quickly pulls her into a comforting hug. “Love, I don’t think that’s the case. George is dumb, but he’s not cruel.” He gently runs his hand through her hair as a comfort, knowing it calms her down. “Maybe… He likes you back, and he thinks you were talking about someone else?”

Y/N ponders his words for a second, genuinely considering it. There’s a chance Fred is right, after all, he knows George better than he knows himself sometimes but Y/N is refusing to get her hopes up. “

What the pair don’t realise is that George has been looking for Fred for the last 10 minutes, after he was late to their meeting at the library to work out the kinks in their Skiving Snackboxes treats when he spots them.

They’re still hugging but George is far enough to not be able to hear anything they’re saying and his heart sinks. He knew Y/N liked Fred and to him, the image in front of him is confirmation he’ll always be second best, even to his number one girl.

He clears his throat as he gets closer and they jump apart, Y/N not being able to meet his eye makes his heart sink so he looks away, barely acknowledging her presence. “You’re late, come on Fred.” He’s blunt and both Y/N and George feel terrible at this moment. Fred senses the tension, quickly composing himself and bidding Y/N goodbye and grabbing George by the shoulder to leave. “What is your problem, mate?”

George makes a noise that’s between a grunt and a ‘shut up’ as he quickly walks to the library, not wanting to confront the current feeling of jealousy rising in his throat.

George is the furthest thing from being on cloud nine as possible. His new lifetime ban from quidditch has made his already sour mood worse and he feels terrible for anyone who has come into contact with him in the last week. He wants nothing more than to fly out of this school on his broom and never look back while he finally opens the shop with Fred.

His mood is somehow worsened when Y/N comes through the portrait hole. It’s 11pm and George was hoping he would have the common room to himself so he could sulk in peace and maybe work on some joke products. But she barely even acknowledges his presence on the couch, taking a quick glance at him and looking away and rushing up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

The sinking feeling in George’s stomach is back, as it always is when he sees Y/N these days. He’s convinced someone worked out his crush on her and told her, and that her only response to that was to blatantly ignore him. He can’t talk, he knows he can’t. He’s done his fair share of ignoring Y/N over the past week but he didn’t think he was being as obvious as her.

He doesn’t realise how long he’s been sitting in the common room, furrowing his eyebrows and contemplating the situation until Fred waltzes down the boys' dormitory stairs, sleep in his eyes and his messy hair sticking up everywhere. “Why the fuck are you still awake, mate?”

George shrugs. He knows he’s been short lately with Fred too, but it’s not Fred’s fault. Just anything these days brings jealousy to his stomach and he can’t bear the thought of ever being mad at Fred for something out of his control. “Still having girl problems?” George shrugs again.

“Listen, mate, do you like Y/N?” George is taken aback by Fred’s forwardness and he feels his face heat up and he knows he’s bright red. “No,” he squeaks and the look of smugness on Fred’s face tells him he knows he doesn’t believe him. “Okay, fine, I do.”

Fred doesn’t know what to do, he never expected to get this far in his line of questioning for George. He knows he shouldn’t tell Y/N’s deepest secret to George but it’s killing them both not being together and thinking they don’t like each other. Fuck it, Fred thinks as the words spill out, “She likes you too, you fucking git.”

George looks at him, dumbfounded. “No she doesn’t, she likes you.”

Now it’s Fred’s turn to look at his brother dumbfounded. Not even for a second did he ever consider Y/N would have feelings for him, even before she confessed her feelings towards George to himself. It’s always been Y/N and George in his mind, the sun and the moon, the stars and the planets. He can’t ever imagine Y/N fitting so perfectly with someone than his brother and then he starts to laugh.

“You think Y/N likes me? Are you seriously that daft?”

George doesn’t appreciate this, his arms crossed protectively across his chest, “Don’t laugh at me. People always chose you.” He’s quiet in his words but Fred’s heart sinks. “Mate, you know that’s not true.” He takes the seat next to George, fully awake at this point. “It is though. And it’s not your fault, don’t worry. People always prefer the more outgoing twin.”

“I don’t.”

George and Fred’s heads snap up to where the voice came from, spotting Y/N standing on the stairs in an old t-shirt and sleep shorts. She’s picking at the skin on her fingers, the nervousness obvious. “What did you just say?” George asks, timidly.

She walks down the last few stairs, “I said I don’t prefer the more outgoing twin. I’m-” she takes a deep breath as she prepares herself for the confession she didn’t plan on doing- ”quite fond of the shy, only a little bit responsible twin.” Fred is smirking again as he usually is, and quickly leaves the pair in the empty common room.

“I thought you liked Fred,” George whispers when she takes Fred’s old spot, “I didn’t think I ever had a chance with you.”

She giggles as she softly takes George’s large, calloused hand in her own and she rubs her thumb soothingly along the back of his hand. “You’ve owned my heart for years, Georgie. I thought I made that obvious last week on the lake.”

George thinks back to the moment of the lake and everything makes sense. Why she was being so coy when she mentioned confessing to someone and he suddenly feels very dumb. He pulls her hand up to his mouth and kisses her knuckles. He can’t help but feel incredibly overwhelmed, by the emotion they’re both letting out and how beautiful Y/N looks by the warmth of the fire. “You’ve owned mine for years too. How dumb are we?”

She shakes her head and cups his face in her hands, “We’re not dumb. Just…” she pauses, finding the right words, “Clueless.” She giggles and George realises how badly he’s missed being in her presence.

“I’m sorry for the last week. I’ve been a right prat, haven't I?” She nods and laughs again. “You have, but this just means you can spend the rest of our lives making it up to me.” She teases and George raises an eyebrow at her. He’s quick to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap and shoving his face into her neck.

“The rest of our lives, huh? Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren’t we Y/L/N?” He teases, but he’s joking. He’d be perfectly happy spending the rest of his life making up for this past week if it meant spending the rest of his life with the girl in his lap.

“Hey, it’s taken us years to get together, I’m not letting you go now, Georgie.” She winks and George wants nothing more to press his lips to hers.

So that’s what he does. She makes a noise of surprise at first, and he almost pulls away out of fear that this isn’t what she wants. But she’s quick to pull him back to her. The kiss is desperate, years of pent up emotions and pining being communicated through it.

Both their hearts felt like they were about to beat out of their chests and Y/N couldn’t help but think this was better than she could ever have imagined. George’s lips were slightly chapped, days of chewing on them out of nervousness would do that but it was so distinctly George that she didn’t care. George pressed against her lips harder, making Y/N let out a slight moan that only he could hear and he couldn’t help but smile.

It was the most perfect first kiss either of them could have ever wished for and when they finally pull apart, Y/N can’t help but admire George. His hair is messy from having her hands run through it, his lips are slightly swollen and his cheeks are flushed red. He looks absolutely breathtaking and Y/N has to resist the urge to pull him into another kiss.

“Does this mean you're my girlfriend, now?” George questions. Y/N pretends to ponder for a moment, both to lightly tease George and to genuinely contemplate her answer. But she knows in her heart, she wants nothing more than to be George’s and a smile slowly overtakes her face.

“Maybe take me on a date first?”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley one shot #george weasley imagine #george weasley

659 notes · View notes

firehouseonechicago · 3 years

Text

Five Times He Almost Kissed You, The One Time He Did || Matthew Casey

Author’s Note: This is going to be a new series I am starting. There will be similar one-shots coming out for selected members of One Chicago, so keep an eye out. First up is Chicago Fire! Gif by @dawsonscasey

One...

The last call hadn’t gone according to plan. Sometimes these things happen, but when you end up missing someone on the fourth floor of an apartment building fire, it becomes hard not to dwell on that fact.

Matt missed somone, he could have sworn that the entire floor was clear. He checked every room, every hiding place a person was likely hiding. He found nothing.

A soft knock came from behind him, alerting him that there was someone there. When Matt turned, he released a long relieved sigh as his eyes landed on your form. You stood in the doorway to his quarters, leaning against the doorframe with your arms folded casually over your chest. “Hey, thought I would check up on you, see how you were doing” You spoke softly, smiling at him sweetly the way you always did when you spoke to him. You had only recently transferred to the 51 a few months ago, but god, Matt was grateful that there was someone like you at the firehouse. You always put others before yourself, no matter how you were feeling in that current moment. You were the kind of person who would go above and beyond for your tem, and Matt admired that so much.

He released another long sigh, turning around in his chair to face you fully. “I’m okay...” He replied, not entirely convincing himself as he forced himself to speak “really, I’m fine”. The expression on your delicate features told him that you weren’t one-hundred percent convince by his answer either, your eyes narrowing slightly as you stepped into his quarters. As you sat down on his cot with a small huff, a small thought crossed Matt’s mind. He looked at the clock above you on the wall, shift had ended over half an hour ago. Everyone, including Boden, would have left by now. You were the only two souls left in the firehouse. You had stayed behind to make sure that he was okay.

For a brief second, an image of his lips on yours flashed through his mind before he shook himself back into reality. What the hell was he thinking? He did have great admiration for you, that was certain. But he couldn’t make a move on you, not now. He had just broken up with Gabby, and he wasn’t ready for another relationship yet. But the way you place your hand on his shoulder, and offerred to buy him a beer to try and drown his sorrows with a sympathetic yet joking smile, Matt was finding it increasingly hard to ignore the growing butterflies in his stomach.

Two...

The 51 was celebrating Boden’s birthday at Molly’s, and Matt was sitting beside you at one of the tables. You were leaned against the wall, sitting side on to face him. The two of you had been talking non-stop all night, making jokes here and there, and just having general light-hearted conversations.

“Wait, you broke your arm-”

“By falling down the stairs, yes. I was a very clumsy child”

“And yet you became a firefighter, how ironic”

When your mouth fell agape in shock, Matt descended into a fit of laughter, flinshing lightly as you playfully punched his shoulder. “Wow, that was so uncalled for” You pouted, folding your arms over your chest with a huff. Matt leaned forward and placed his hand on your forearm “I’m only joking, you know that right?” Matt stated lowly, genuinely wondering if he had upset you or not. But when your lips formed a taunting and mischievous smirk, Matt knew he had fallen for your facade.

You began to giggle, your cheeks flushing a bright red as Matt pulled away from you, his lips parting in disbelief. He watched as you descended into laughter, your eyes sparkling in the gold fairy lights strewn throughout the bar. In that moment, Matt almost kissed you. Almost. You just looked so beautiful, so carefree, a completely different attitued to the one you wore at the firehouse. You were just so...so perfect. Shaking himself from him daze, it was now his turn to pout as he folded hims arms over his chest, mimicking your earlier posture. “Wow, you actually made me feel bad for saying that”.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to I was joking-”

“You used my own tactic against me!”

You laughed again, shying away from Matt’s playful gaze until your name was called loudly from across the bar. Matt followed your gaze to meet the teasing smirk of Mouch. He waved you over, gesturing towards Otis behind the bar. Matt turned back to face you when he heard you sigh. “That’s my que” You joked, carefully manouvering out of your seat with a small smile. “i’ll see you later, okay” You spoke kindly, placing your hand on his shoulder. Matt’s stomach fluttered with butterflies at your touch, but he nodded nonetheless. :Sure, you still need a ride home right?”

“You’re not planning on leaving me here are you Matthew Casey?”

“Of course not, I was just making sure” Matt replied, dodging your hand as you tried to ruffle his hair. With a successful huff, Matt turned to watch you as you made your way over to the bar, smiling a kind greeting at Mouch and Otis as the three of you began to talk.

Matt knew he was falling for you, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop himself from doing so.

Three...

“Thank you so much for today Matt, I really appreciate it” You spoke gratefully, serving a beautifully cooked helping of spaghetti bolognese. Matt waved his hand dismissively, taking one of the bowls from your hand with a kind smile “I really don’t mind Y/n, I’m happy to help out” He replied, following you over towards the dining room table.

Matt had overheard you talking to Herrmann and Mouch about how to go about replacing a broken window, which had been shattered when two young boys accidentaly kicked a ball through your bedroom window. ‘It was a rather rude wake-up call’ He heard you say, and he offered to fix it for you then and there. He could tell that you were surpised by his offer, but he was relieved that you had said yes. And now, he sat across from you eating dinner. It was a nice feeling.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. You didn’t have to do this” “I know, but like I said, I honestly don’t mind”. Your small smile made his stomach backflip, the two of you eating in a comfortable silence. After eating, the two of you talked and talked, laughing and joking about anything and everything. “Otis was telling me that they need an extra hand at Molly’s, but given my clumsy history I told him I’d think about it” You explained, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly. Marr gave you a confused expression “I think you should take it, I mean its a good job, plus you’re already amongst friends” He reasoned, watching as your eyes lit up with a brightness that made him feel lighter.

With a small clear of your throat, you stood up, moving to clear the bowls from the table. However, Matt beat you too it. “Here, I’ll take them” He spoke kindly, smiling down at you cheekily as he carefully took the bowls from your hands. “Are you sure? I’m fine doing-” “No, you cooked! It’s only fair that I clean-” Matt stopped abruptly upon realising how close the two of you actually were. His face was just inches away from your own, so close that he could have kissed you had he leaned forward to close the gap. Matt almost did, had it not been for the ringtone of his phone which completely ruined the mood.

Grumbling under his breath, Matt placed the bowls back onto the table and removed his phone from his pocket. His eyes widened, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “Boden needs us back at the firehouse” He explained, placing his phone back in his pocket as he followed you towards your door. “Did Boden say why he needed us?” “No, he just said it was urgent” He replied, quickly jogging over to the driver side of his car. When he looked up, he saw you standing beside his passenger door. “Mind if I tag along?” You asked, smiling teasingly whilst gesturing to the passenger seat with your head. Without a second thought, Matt nodded “Jump in, and hold on”.

Four...

Matt certainly wasn’t expecting you to ask him to be your date to your brother’s wedding, but he was more than happy to go.

The last few shifts had been rough, rougher than most, so escaping to the picturesque scene of a wedding was exactly what he needed to clear his mind. And besides, it was an open bar. Fixing his tux as he stepped out of his car, Matt was adjusting his tie when he heard rushed footsteps coming from inside your house as he knocked on the door to announce his arrival. “I’ll be there in a second Matt! I can’t find my damn purse!” He heard you cry, chuckling to himself quietly as he shook his head in amusement. “Okay, I’ll just wait by the car!” He replied, turning around and heading back down the stairs. He didn’t even make it down to the sidewalk before he heard the door to your house close.

As Matt turned, his breath was immediately knocked out of him. You stood at the top of the staircase wearing a beautiful light blue dress, with your hair tied into a delicate bun with a few loose strands here and there. Matt was so incredibly stunned, that he hadn’t realised that you were actually speaking to him. He shook his head quickly “Uh, sorry what did you say?” He asked somewhat sheepishly, flushing a light pink in embarrassment. You laughed, smiling happily as you walked down the stairs to join him. “I said, how do I look?” You asked again, waiting nervously for his reply.

Looking you up and down, Matt wanted nothing more than to kiss you. You just looked so beautiful, so...

Matt took a deep breath, calming his racing heart as he spoke “You look absolutely breathtaking”. Your smile made his heart skip a beat, your cheeks turning a bright red. “Then shall we go?” You asked timidly “after the week we’ve had, I can’t wait for the reception”. Matt laughed loudly as he held out his arm toward you “I think we shall, m’lady” He taunted, raising a teasing eyebrow in your direction as your looped your arm through his.

Five...

Herrmann had brought his family to the firehouse for a visit, and as usual, they were running around like wild animals, their loud shouts and screams giving everyone a headache.

Herrmann was just about at the end of his tether, as he sat opposite you and Matt in the common room with his head in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m going to do...” Herrmann whined, “no matter what I tell them, they just won’t be quiet”. You pressed your lips into a thin line, sighing lightly through your nose. Matt watched from the corner of his eye as you quickly stood up, calling out to each child by name. As if by magic, Lee, Luke, Max, Annabelle and little Kenny all immediately fell silent. They all turned to face you with confused but smiling expressions, whilst Matt and Herrmann watched you in a dumbfounded stupour.

You knelt down in front of the five children with a bright smile on your face. “Hey, listen your dad kind of has a teeny tiny headache from the last call we went on, and he just needs a few moments of peace and quiet, okay? If you guys can be quiet for just a few minutes, I’ll take you all out for ice cream after the shift ends. How does that sound?” You reasoned, earning a few silent nods and murmers of agreement in response.

“Okay, I think a few of the other guys were playing hacky sack on front of the firehouse, why don’t you guys go see if you can join them?” You suggested, laughing lightly as the five children all raced out of the common room with excited giggles and the occasional squeal. Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, you turned back to face Matt and Herrmann, finding that their gaze was already on you with wide eyes and dropped jaws. As you moved back over to your seat beside Matt, Herrmann scoffed in disbelief. “How the hell did you do that!?” He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exasperation whilst he waited for your answer. As your shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, Matt watched you in complete awe. He had no idea that you were this amazing with kids. He didn’t know why he was so surprised, he supposed that the situation never presented itself.

But after seeing the way you handled Herrmann’s kids, how you were so kind and caring, how your voice was soft and delicate...he felt his heart begin to beat wildly in his chest. It felt strange to think about you that way, having kids of your own someday, a part of him hoped that one day, he would have kids too. When your eyes briefly met his with that teasing smirk of yours on your lips, Matt suddenly had the overwhelming urge to kiss you. But he didn’t, not in front of Herrmann, he wasn’t even sure if you felt the same way about him the way he did you. So he pushed down that feeling, and instead smiled happily in your direction as you continued to converse with Herrmann.

The one time he did...

You were the only one still inside the apartment complex as it went up in flames.

Your last call over the radio stated that you were headed up to the fifth floor to retrieve a resident’s daughter who was trapped inside their apartment. That was five minutes ago.

You had been silent ever since, and Matt was getting worried. What if something had happened to you? What if you were trapped too? Matt turned to Boden, who looked just as worried as he was. “Chief, let me go back in. She might need-”

Before Matt could finish uttering his sentence, the top three floors of the apartment complex exploded, including the fifth floor. Bright orange flames engulfed the outside of the building, thick black smoke rising into the Chicago night sky. “Y/n!” Matt shouted, starting to rush toward the buring building entrance. However, he was stopped by Severide and Mouch, who forcefully held him back as he struggled against their hold. He could faintly hear Boden calling you over the radio due to the roaring of the flames, he could hear the mother of the mother of the girl inside screaming for her daughter. Gabby and Shay stood on standby, their eyes gleaming with unshed tears as they waited...and waited...and waited.

Boden lost his temper, “Damnit L/n, respond!” He shouted furiously, though he waited anxiously for your reply. Several agonising minutes passed by, there was still no word from you. Matt was starting to lose hope. No, you couldn’t be...you just couldn’t. You were always careful, always vigilant. There was no way you could be gone. There was till so much he needed to say to you, Matt’s heart almost stopped at the mere thought of never being able to tell you that he loved you.

The door to the complex flew open, thick smoke billowing out through the doorway. Everyone held their breath, the usually busy street was now completely silent. Aft first, Matt thought it was the sheer force of the fire that had almost knocked the door off its hinges, the weight of immense dread and grief consuming him as he struggled to stay on his feet. The cold harsh reality of the situation began to set in. You were gone.

Then Severide was rushing towards the door, shouting for Gabby and Shay to follow. And as if by some miracle, you stumbled through the doorway with the little girl in your arms, your mask covering the girl’s face. Matt released a choked sob as he watched Severide take the girl from your arms, handing her over to Gabby and Shay before he enveloped you in a bone crushing hug. Matt began to jog forward, pure elation and happines filling him as he heard your voice. “Why the hell didn’t you answer your radio!?” Kelly shouted angrily, though his happy tears and slight laugh of disbelief conveyed different emotions altogether. You coughed slightly, looking up at Severide shyly “A bit of debris caught my shoulder, breaking the damn thing in two. I couldn’t have responded even if I wanted too”.

Removing his helmet as he moved past Severide, Matt tossed it aside and gently cupped both sides of your face before dipping down and pulling you into a gentle yet passionate kiss. You were completely taken aback at first, surprised that this moment was even happening. But eventually you reciprocated the kiss, not caring about the cheerful shouts coming from the rest of your colleagues who watched on in pure joy. The two of you pulled away breathlessly, as Matt’s teary gaze examined every inch of your smoke-covered face. “Promise me, that you will never do that again” He whispered quietly, his voice breaking slightly as his eyes fixated on every minor burn, every speck of ash that flecked your skin. You nodded curtly, sniffling slightly as your tear-filled eyes met Matt’s. “I promise”.

#matthew casey x reader #matthew casey #matthew casey imagine #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire #chicago fire imagine #matt casey x reader #matt casey #matt casey imagine #jesse spencer

454 notes · View notes

gb-patch · 3 years

Text

Ask Answers: June 6th, 2021

I’m back with more ask responses! You can also check our Frequently Asked Question sheet if there’s something you’re wondering that’s not answered here.

FAQ Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

Thank you for the patience with these questions ♡

Hey in very beginning of step 3 in the scene where Mr.Holden had a thought dancing on the tip of his tongue but he kept it to himself after MC and Cove were being cute (idk if it makes a difference but this is when they're dating)... Can we know what he was thinking/ wanted to say? It's been bugging me lol

He would’ve gone into a “look how much you’ve grown”, “your dad is so proud of you”, “I’m so glad things worked out with the MC”, and etc spiel, haha. But he resisted the urge to fawn on his baby boy, at least for that scene.

If we planned to move away for college/future plans in step 3, is it implied that MC and Cove would have a long distance relationship for sure? Could MC have convinced Cove to come with them? How is the dynamic of their relationship going to be addressed in Step 4, if that makes sense?

Cove is willing to follow the MC where they went after everything is settled for them there, and if they’re sure they want him to come! You’ll get to decide how things shook out during those transitional years just by making choices about it during the opening prologue of Step 4.

Hi! First off, how does it feel to have created one of the best games when it comes to inclusion for lbtq+ peeps? I've never felt as validated with my identity and sexuality when playing a game and I'm seemingly not alone ♥ Second, and this might be a little too specific, but what kinds of drinks does Cove like as well as dislike? Thank you, you're the best ♥

Thank you for very much! It’s really nice to hear the game felt inclusive. Cove likes regular water and fruit juices/smoothies most! He dislikes coffee and cola, and he’s not super into most teas either.

Hi, may i ask what gb patch stands for? Specifically the gb part lol

It stands for my old, silly username I used in places like Neopets as a kid, aha. The company name wasn’t super thought out since it was originally just me making VNs as a hobby. Luckily, “GB Patch” kind of seems like it could mean something reasonable, so I didn’t have to rebrand when it did become a more serious, commercial group.

If we chose to not propose to cove in the step 3 dlc would he propose or would the mc propose in step 4 or the wedding dlc?

Yeah, you or Cove can propose in Step 4 if you’re not already engaged! The Wedding DLC takes place after the engagement so the proposal scenes aren’t there.

will you guys announce if the early access for the new game is out on patreon ?

When beta builds of Step 4 or whatever start coming out on the Patreon we will mention it here on social media too.

Heyy I just had a quick question about Baxter if that’s okay :)?

I saw in an ask+answer that it’s possible to casually date Baxter In step 3, but what leads up to that? I have the step 3 dlc and I’ve tried playing them In a different orders and ways but it doesn’t seem to get anywhere ^^;

The Step 3 DLC is Cove-based because he’s the default guy. There’s a separate Baxter romance DLC that’s not out yet. That’s where you can get him to date you. I’m sorry for the confusion!

Will we ever get any LI's or side characters with physical disabilities or deformities? I think your games would be a great place to have them in since they're always so accepting and safe!

Yeah, we do hope to have representation for that in future projects ^^. Thank you for the confidence in us.

Is it possible to get Cove to take the bed and MC to sleep on the floor?

Not in Step 3, I’m afraid.

So, I have played the prologue of Our Life countless times and I haven't gotten the [Your Life] achievement, why is that?

Steam sometimes isn’t connected properly when an achievement unlocks and so it remains locked on your account. If that happens, unfortunately getting the scene again won’t unlock it. The achievement becomes inaccessible because the game thinks you already have it. Playing with the same Steam account on a different device or fully deleting your game data (more than the only the save files) are the only work arounds we’ve found.

Since when you talk with Jeremy in step 3 it's mentioned he goes on dates with someone (which assume is JB because who else would take this boy on dates) that makes him happy, does that sort of make JB and Jeremy the canon relationship in the first game?

The default for XOXO Droplets is that JB casually goes on dates with each of the jerks! Shiloh would’ve been harsher if Jeremy was the only guy getting her attention, haha. But the player can change that default by dating just one person the whole game for their own story and who she ends up with for real has no default.

Hi, hello! Huge OL fan, thank you so much for the wholesome content, it was very much needed during these times. Managed to get several people to join team Cove, so that's very exciting, I always have people to fawn over him with. I have a little question and I'm sorry if it was asked before, but does it ever come up in the game what Cove has told his mom about us? (who knows, with so many options, one can miss it) Or, alternatively, will it come up in the Step 4 DLC?

Thank you very much for sharing the game with people <3. It’s really great to hear people are liking it. Right now that doesn’t come up in game. Kyra is willing to keep her mouth shut and Cove isn’t gonna have that conversation either. At least not when he’s younger, but yes, perhaps when he’s a fully grown big boy in Step 4 you can ask him about it.

I’ve been thinking about this ever since it has been confirmed that there would be two love interests for OL2, would there be the possibility of forming a polyamorous relationship with both love interests? I’m sorry if you answered this previously, I’m just curious.

We are considering it, but it’s not a guarantee yet. It’d be really great to have but it’d add so many extra alterations that’d need to made, aha.

Hello! You mentioned how Cove would be uncomfortable with kids at 23, but how old would he be when he’s comfortable with having/adopting kids? (Same goes for the other LI’s.) btw, love your game!!

He’d want to be at least 25, but even older would be good. Derek would want to have kids when he and his partner could reasonably support them, the age itself wouldn’t matter. If they were doing good at 22 and wanted kids, he’d be up for it. Or they could wait until their 30s or whatever. Baxter is also more of a “when it feels right” guy rather than having a specific age requirement. Cove is just especially wary of being a young parent because of his own parents. I’m happy you like the game!

does step 4 immediately play after you press "end summer" in step 3? or is there another button/transition (like the story text thingy) before the epilogue begins? what happens after the epilogue? roll credits? 😂

Step 4 will have transition section always and there will be an extra button, if you own the Derek or Baxter DLC. By default the Cove-based version of Step 4 just plays once Step 3 is over. However, having the other guys’ storylines will mean you get to pick which version of Step 4 plays; Cove Step 4 (the basic one), Derek Step 4, or Baxter Step 4.

Happy pride, thank you for all you do for us🥰

I have a quick question though, I recently got a MacBook after my old windows computer broke, and now steam says I cannot download it, but it has no issues with other games, what can I do to download it?? I’m sorry if my English is bad

Happy pride month! Unfortunately, Our Life isn’t available for Mac on Steam right now. To be an approval application Apple requires having special notarization and we as a small group haven’t gotten that. Itch doesn’t care and lets us release the game for Mac there anyway, Steam does care so we’re locked out of putting the Mac build up on their storefront. Feel free to email us and we can try to help the situation out further!

[email protected]

Hello! I was jus wondering if the Baxter and Derek DLCs are still happening? I haven’t heard anything about them on here or patreon in a while so I just wanted to make sure ^^

They’re still coming and we just released a new sprite sketch on the Patreon for the Derek DLC c:. But right now Step 4 is still much more of a priority. Once that’s closer to being done we’ll focus way more on sharing previews for the other guys.

is it possible to tell cove you love him (platonically) at step 3 fondness/selecting him as basically family? i just love the mc and liz sibling interactions and it got me wondering about it (especially if you've selected that option)

You and Cove can be as close as family, but there’s not a specific scene in Step 3 where you say “I love you” in a family context. But there’s always Step 4~

do you intend on ever adding a collectors mode to Our Life? Like a way to collect achievements and CGs for the gallery without it effecting any save files?

We weren’t considering it before. But if a lot of players would find that helpful, we could start thinking on that!

Sorry if it's a silly question haha, but (in crush/love) is Cove really aware of how cute and cuddly he seems to MC? If so, what does he think or do about it? Or does he just ignore it?

He isn’t particular aware. Cove never truly stops being surprised that the MC is interested in/attracted to him, haha.

Would you say that the alone ending of xoxo droplets is worth playing again to get?

Nope, haha. The goal is to make friends/get a boyfriend and so the alone ending is kind of the bad ending for the game. Though there is a consolation prize if you get it by accident.

Is there any possible situation which would ever prompt Pran to bake for his girlfriend? Like I know it's unlikely I mean even if JB broke her leg somehow I'm pretty sure he'd still be like "I considered baking you a cake and doing the frosting the way I think looks interesting but you don't deserve a cake, no one does." right but also ahhh it would be super nice if some day he just surprised her with baked goods one day out of nowhere. JB would be so shocked it would be cute. So is there any possible situation where that could/would be a thing that he would do?

He might bake out of spite, like if he felt he had to prove her wrong on something. Or if JB used some good reverse psychology on him. Or he might do it in a relatively nice way if he could make his GF so shocked by the kind gesture that his amusement with that overrode his insistence on not being sweet. Pran is very difficult in high school, aha.

Is the "one route (where) it can be seen that Everett will drop his seemingly eternal waging with Jeremy pretty easily and can start getting along without thinking much on it" the Lucas route? I'm curious!

Yep! Everett will side with Jeremy if it’s between him and Lucas.

Hi I hope you guys are having a great day :) I just had to ask how Cliff would feel about Cove's partner/fiancé Mc calling them dad whether it be accidental or otherwise and secondly I also wanted to ask how he would feel about being asked to be the one to give the mc away at their wedding.

He would be very touched and excited! I hope you have a good day too :D

Hello! I saw an ask relating to whether Cliff "moves on" after Cove's grown up and stuff (and he stays single), but what about Kyra? Will she be with anyone else or will she stay single?

She does start dating again, but she takes it slow.

Hi! I absolutely love the art for characters in OL and I wonder is this fine to draw my MC in same drawing style and upload online later? Is this something artists would be okay with? Thank you!

Yeah, you can certainly do that C:

Hey there!

I wonder if I'm just being stupid here.. Is Step 4 a DLC? And if so, where can I find it? I can't seem to find it on Steam :< Thank you!

Step 4 is a free epilogue! It’s not done yet, but once it is finished you’ll just update your game file and Step 4 will be there after Step 3 ends.

hi! are step 4 and the wedding dlc two different things?

They are. Step 4 is a free epilogue that’ll be a default part of the game once it’s done, the wedding DLC is an optional paid expansion that takes place after Step 4.

Why did Baxter not receive a step 2 sprite seeing how he shows up later

Sprites are time consuming to draw and take money out of the budget that could’ve gone to other things. His tiny appearance in Step 2 wasn’t worth all the effort to make a sprite, aha.

I just realized, what happens if if you get the patreon exclusive moment but at a later date, when you don't have the membership anymore, it's updated (like a bugs fix update for example)? Would you have to get the membership again?

You would have to get the membership again to redownload the build. But there’s very little chance there’s going to be an update once it’s been out for over a month. If a build gets released with errors, players catch/report them within the first few days. So by the time the first subscription period ends, any problems that were noticeable would already have been fixed. And we’re certainly not gonna be adding new content to it once it’s been released for a long time. There’s no need to worry about missing out on something worthwhile in the future if you cancel your membership. It’s being made with the idea in mind that many players are gonna be getting it and then going.

Hello! Wanted to ask about gaming choice in step 3? Once upon a playthorugh I got the option to buy Cove a bracelet for his graduation present. I played the same basic character again and that option wasn't there anymore. I'm not sure where I went wrong. My Cove wears a bracelet on each hand and my MC is into fashion and jewelry. Do I need to put an earring on him or? Sorry, love your game so much.

He also needs to have liked bracelets in Step 2 for that to be considered a good gift option for him. Sorry for the confusion! I’m happy you love the game :)

Is Step 4 being released at the same time as the Wedding DLC or will the first come before the latter? Thank you!

I’m not sure. Ideally they’ll come out at the same time, but the wedding DLC has a lot of art to get done and we may have to release it after Step 4.

Can mc still get confession from Cove at the end of step 3 even if mc casually dates Baxter in step 3? Such as in crush mode?

I don’t think so. Maybe that’ll change, but generally there’s differences to the Step 3 ending if you were dating Baxter and those differences likely will conflict with getting the Cove confession.

For the patreon moments/dlcs, will it be available for all tiers?

It’ll be available for tier 2 (Fans) and up!

#our life #xoxo droplets #gb patch #ask #gb patch games #Our Life Beginnings & Always

166 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Note

Do you think Deku will ever get mad at All-Might for keeping so many secrets from him? Deku has been giving All-Might free passes on things he should have known about like AFO, previous holders of OFA and now that Tomura is Nana's grandson. It feels like AM needs to be held accountable at some point.

I think it’s likely; he’s gotten fairly mad at him about this before, back when All Might hid the truth about his falling-out with Nighteye.

and he’s probably going to feel a bit betrayed at the realization that All Might is still keeping things from him even after this conversation. and it’s not like it’s just small things, either; these are some pretty major things that Deku is still getting blindsided by as a result of All Might’s secrecy. it feels like AM hasn’t really learned his lesson at all and is still Dumbledoring his way through this mentorship.

but the thing is, I can understand All Might’s point of view here as well, and I get why he keeps doing it, even if I don’t agree with it. I’ve been meaning to write a post about this anyway, especially since it ties into the matter of the Fourth OFA User and his quirk, so let’s take a look at All Might’s ever-growing List of Secrets, because there’s a pattern there.

1. OFA

starting with the big one. now obviously Deku is very much in on this particular secret. however it is still a secret from just about everyone else, and it’s probably the one secret that All Might has been the most adamant about keeping, going to increasingly elaborate lengths even as it becomes more and more obvious that all of these efforts are eventually going to prove futile.

the thing is, it’s pretty obvious why he’s been trying so hard to keep the truth of Deku’s quirk hidden. OFA paints a huge target onto Deku’s back, one that would attract notice not just from the villain side, but from the hero side as well. OFA is basically the ultimate prize. it’s probably the most powerful quirk in existence, aside from AFO. and once word gets out that this power can be passed on to literally anyone simply at will, things could start getting very ugly.

Deku would suddenly come under pressure from all sides, with people trying to use and control him (well, I say “people”, but mainly I mean the HPSC sob). that’s if they see him as a useful tool and a weapon in the battle against the League, mind you. but if they decide that he’s not, or that he’s not ready, there would instead be pressure for him to give up OFA to a “worthier” candidate. either way, Deku himself isn’t going to be taken into account. his thoughts, his feelings, what he wants, what he deserves; none of that is going to matter to these people.

and these are the good guys, mind! that’s not even mentioning the villains, who have already destroyed an entire city in pursuit of him. Deku is in a lot of danger now. and so far, Tomura/AFO have been surprisingly honorable in their attempts to get ahold of OFA, in that they’ve been targeting Deku directly. but AFO is a notoriously underhanded guy, and it concerns me that there are a ton of more underhanded methods still on the table for him to try out. because we’ve already established that Deku is notoriously self-sacrificing. I mean literally notorious, as in both his friends and enemies alike have all picked up on this trait and made a note of it. so imagine if Tomura ever decides to take hostages, for instance. “give me OFA or I’ll kill so and so.” then what?? jesus.

so yeah, all in all it’s pretty clear why All Might has been exceedingly careful about keeping OFA a secret even from most of Deku’s allies. this isn’t even getting into the whole U.A. traitor thing as well, but I mean, you get the idea, right? the reason All Might has gone to such lengths to keep OFA a secret is to protect Deku.

2. AFO

and now we get to the first of many things that All Might kept hidden from Deku himself! and these are generally going to be a lot harder to defend. like yeah, you probably should have told this barely-pubescent child that that the quirk you were giving him came prepackaged with a built-in mortal enemy, All Might. might want to actually lead with that part next time.

so why didn’t he tell Deku about AFO? well first of all please understand that I’m not trying to justify this decision, lol; I’m just trying to rationalize it from All Might’s point of view. he was less than six years removed from his fateful battle with AFO in which the both of them were gravely injured. and yes, he said that he believed AFO had died from his wounds; but if he really thought that was true, why didn’t he listen to Nighteye and pass OFA on to someone else back then? why did he stubbornly stay in the field for as long as he could? his actions just don’t line up. if he really thought AFO was dead, you’d think he would have been able to retire in peace, as there wouldn’t have been such a great need for the Symbol anymore.

so honestly, what I’m learning towards here is that he didn’t really believe it, deep down. but once his powers really started to wane, he felt like he had no choice but to pass the quirk on to someone else and just hope for the best. and then, once he met Deku, I think he really started to want to believe it was true. because he empathized with Deku and he saw himself in him, and he wanted to give him that chance. Deku wanted so badly to be a hero, and All Might saw that he had the heart and the spirit of one, and only lacked the physical ability. and there All Might was, with a quirk he could bestow on him that could potentially make his dream come true. he wanted to believe he could do that. he convinced himself that the threat of AFO really was nonexistent -- after all, it had been six years! -- and that it wasn’t a burden he was passing down onto this child anymore, but a gift.

and so he didn’t tell Deku about AFO because he wanted to believe it wasn’t something Deku needed to know. so in this case it wasn’t just Deku he was essentially lying to, but himself as well. so yeah, not the best rationale in the world, but a very human mistake for him to make, and one that once again has its roots in wanting to protect Deku. or more precisely in this case, wanting to protect Deku’s dream. he wanted to believe it was all right for him to hand down this power which he so strongly believed that Deku deserved.

3. the Vestiges

honestly it’s a bit up in the air whether or not this one was really a secret, because All Might genuinely didn’t seem to realize that the Vestiges were conscious inside of OFA. or so he says at any rate. regardless, I’m going to include it in the list because he was definitely acting pretty cagey about the subject back during the sports festival, and I’ve never been fully satisfied with his explanation.

if you ask me? I think one of the reasons why he didn’t want to discuss this more in depth with Deku back then was because he was afraid it might inadvertently lead to some other topics that he wasn’t yet ready to discuss.

the idea of the previous OFA users living on inside the quirk is comforting in some ways, but that’s also a conversation that inevitably leads to the subject of AFO and AFO’s brother just for starters. not to mention Nana, whose death was deeply traumatizing for him and which I don’t think he was emotionally prepared to bring up just yet.

but I think the biggest factor that led to All Might being mum about this was the fact that he himself was included among the Vestiges. because I’m thinking he might have been a bit paranoid about avoiding a conversation like this:

All Might: “hey Midoriya-shounen, I just wanted to let you know that those weird little shadow figures you saw during your fight were the ghosts of the previous users of OFA, who are all living on inside of the quirk. my master once told me, 'even if I die one of these days, we can always meet again inside One for All.' so you know, that’s nice.”

Deku: “huh okay, so you’re telling me I have the souls of eight other people trapped inside my quirk, well that’s pretty trippy but I’m a weird little boy who lives for this kind of wild quirk shit so I’m okay with it! but it’s not like it matters though anyway since you’re still here to guide me haha! it’s not like you have any reason to suspect that might not be the case in the very near future, right?”

All Might: “...right.”

so yeah. once again, the reason for All Might keeping this a secret is because he doesn’t want to burden Deku. spoiler alert, the next two secrets also have the exact same reasoning behind them. in fact I’m just going to go and lump them both together.

4. Sir Nighteye, and 5. Sir Nighteye’s prophecy

so #4 is the one that actually finally set Deku off in the scene I posted earlier lol. and yeah, All Might should have told Deku, especially since it was inevitable that Deku was going to find out anyway. once he learned about Nighteye and All Might’s falling-out, him finding out about the prophecy was a given. and so once again I want to stress that I’m not actually trying to defend All Might’s decision here lol. just trying to relate to it.

anyway but that said, the reason why he didn’t tell Deku is pretty straightforward: he didn’t want to burden Deku with that knowledge. he knows Deku looks up to him. he knows that Deku looks to him for support. and All Might has spent his entire career doing everything he could to be that strong support for everybody, for the entire nation. he wants everyone to feel secure and safe. he wants nothing more than to be able to keep them safe. and it’s so hard, when you have that mindset, to let yourself show weakness and allow the cracks to show and to admit and accept that you can’t protect people from everything, no matter how bad you want to.

how do you tell the kid you’re mentoring, the kid who’s come to depend on you for so much, that there’s a good chance you might not be around much longer? that there’s a good chance he’ll be left to deal with everything all on his own, the same way that you were? how the hell do you even begin to approach that conversation? especially knowing what kind of person Deku is, on top of everything else. for a hero, someone who’s dedicated their whole life to helping and protecting others, nothing is more devastating than being told that something terrible is going to happen, and that no matter what, there is nothing you can do to change that fate. that alone would have been reason enough to not want Deku to know. he didn’t want him to experience that kind of helplessness.

and Deku is still just a kid!! Nighteye, a fully grown man and a hero with years of experience, completely fell apart after that prophecy. meanwhile Deku just started hero school less than a year ago. he’s only sixteen. he is far, far too young to have to deal with all of this. yes, he needed to know, both as a matter of trust and as a matter of practicality. but the fact that he needed to know is pretty fucking cruel on the universe’s part, and I get why All Might was so reluctant to tell him. I get it.

side note!! I feel like it’s worth mentioning that this one is still a secret as far as a certain other person goes. like, I feel that’s pretty noteworthy. pretty much every other person who knows about OFA also knew about Nighteye’s prophecy, including Rat Principal, Recovery Girl, Gran Torino, and Nighteye himself. (although it’s not clear whether or not Naomasa knows, come to think of it. but it’s likely, since All Might probably physically can’t lie to him lol.) and of course, Deku now knows as well.

but aside from Naomasa, there is one other person who’s notably missing from that list.

Kacchan knows about OFA and AFO, but neither All Might nor Deku have told him about the prophecy. even though Katsuki has firmly elbowed his way into the OFA Scooby Squad and knows about all sorts of other things including SIXQUIRKS and the Vestiges and all that jazz, and he’s been helping Deku train and has been included in pretty much everything for months now, he still doesn’t know about this.

and honestly, this might be the one time where I actually agree with All Might’s decision. I say that as someone who loves Katsuki to pieces and very much wants him to find out about this, because I’m mean and because I love angst. but once again, I get it, though. because you probably don’t want to tell the kid who was thinking this...

...that at the time, when you came to save him back at Kamino, you were thinking something like this:

yeah. I’m just saying. I don’t think it does Katsuki much benefit to know that All Might originally went out to Kamino fully expecting that it would be his last battle, and fully prepared to die the horrible death that Nighteye foretold. like, on the one hand there’s definitely an argument to be made that Katsuki should know about the prophecy just so that he’s prepared in case anything does happen, because he would then be the one to have to step up and replace All Might as Deku’s primary support. (and this is something All Might already seems to have been grooming him for in recent months, which is a bit of a red flag as far as All Might’s mortality prospects are concerned, but that’s another discussion for another day.)

but on the other hand, Katsuki is a pretty smart kid. and if and when he does find out about this, there’s a good chance he’s going to connect the dots and realize that Kamino was actually a hell of a lot riskier than All Might ever let on. and there’s close to a 100% chance that he starts blaming himself all over again if he ever learns that. I don’t think it would set him back too much, because he’s made a lot of progress, but I do think that even now it’s still something that he feels a lot of responsibility for. and so really this is just an additional burden that he doesn’t need to be carrying on his shoulders. Deku’s not the only one who’s still just a kid.

anyway! so tl;dr this is yet another case where All Might was keeping something a secret because he didn’t want to burden Deku. and is, in fact, STILL keeping it secret from Katsuki because he doesn’t want to burden him, either. basically just trying to protect both of these kids here.

6. Nana’s relation to Tomura

almost done with the list now! for real though, it’s crazy how many of these there are. how can one man have so many secrets. like seriously, calm the fuck down, All Might.

so! again, Deku should arguably have been told this as soon as it became clear that the responsibility of dealing with AFO and Tomura was going to fall to him. except, I guess, the thing is they didn’t think it was going to fall to him. or at least they hoped it wouldn’t. AFO was in Tartarus, and Naomasa and Gran were planning on hunting down Tomura and the League themselves. and Deku is just a high school kid with an internship. so in an ideal world, he would have never gotten near Tomura, and vice-versa. the adult heroes in BnHA may be inept as fuck, but I’ll give them credit where due: none of them wanted this kind of responsibility to ever fall on any of the kids until they were ready. even during this arc, the kids were all originally assigned to the evacuation teams, and the handful who were on the front lines were there because it was essential to the mission. and even then they pretty much had assigned babysitters (Midnight, Fatgum, etc.) shadowing them the whole time and ready to haul them back out as soon as their tasks were accomplished. like, don’t get me wrong, the child soldiers thing was and is still very fucked up, lol. but they were clearly trying to keep them out of harm’s way.

anyway! and so of course this applies to Deku as well. never mind that he’s All Might’s heir and well on his way to becoming more powerful than anyone could have ever dreamed. he’s still just a teenager. and we don’t send teenagers out to hunt the bad guys. we leave that to the adults, supposedly. and so in these guys’ minds, there really wasn’t any reason to tell Deku about the whole Nana/Tomura connection, because even if it was true, in their minds it’s not really relevant to Deku. they weren’t planning on him and Tomura becoming arch-nemeses. and so it was really just another thing that All Might presumably didn’t want to burden him with at the end of the day. “by the way, Midoriya-shounen, you should know there’s a possibility that Shigaraki Tomura is actually the grandson of my late mentor whom All for One killed.” that’s basically just a very unfun fact that Deku can do absolutely nothing about, except feel bad about it. it doesn’t change the fact that Tomura is still a mass murderer who’s eventually going to have to be captured or killed. so in All Might’s mind there’s really no benefit to telling Deku about any of this.

anyway! and so now finally, last but not least,

7. the Fourth OFA User

so now we finally get to the one secret we don’t actually know yet! OFA IV, and his whole mysterious deal.

All Might, after doing all that research on the previous OFA users and their quirks, suddenly changed his mind at the last second and decided not to tell Deku about this one specific user and his quirk (and notably, his cause of death). why is that?? “I don’t want to speculate and talk about things I’m not sure of...” really?? so you think the better option is for him to be unprepared and to not have any idea of what’s coming, then??

no, seriously. I’m seriously asking that. does All Might, in fact, think that it’s actually a better option for Deku to not know anything about the fourth user than for him to be aware of it. I am genuinely asking that question, because I truly suspect that this might actually be the case.

because, you see, that’s the pattern. if you look at all the other things he’s kept hidden either from Deku, or from others on Deku’s behalf, that’s the one thing they all have in common. he kept them secret in order to protect Deku. either to shelter him from the burden, or to keep him safe from people who might try to do him harm.

so I think it’s safe to say that even though we know absolutely nothing about this particular secret yet, it’s still going to follow that same pattern. All Might isn’t telling Deku about the Fourth yet either because he doesn’t want to burden him with something, or because he thinks there’s some other reason why Deku is better off not knowing.

here are a few other things we can extrapolate here:

All Might’s next line after this is “because I’m worried for him”, so yeah. whatever the reason, he’s trying to protect Deku somehow.

All Might has a history of avoiding truths he’s not ready to face yet, such as AFO still being alive. so even though he says here that he’s “not sure of” whatever it is he found, it’s very possible that he is in fact pretty sure of it, but just doesn’t want to believe it.

the fact that he wrote something down but then crossed it out would seem to support that as well. he says “not yet”, but I’m definitely not convinced that’s actually the case.

whatever this secret about the fourth user is, it’s something All Might isn’t willing to tell Katsuki either, even though Katsuki specifically presses him about it. this makes me think that it’s not just something shady or unpleasant about the fourth user’s past (like him being a villain for instance), because if it was just something like that, I don’t think he’d be so insistent on hiding it from Katsuki as well. and also that wouldn’t explain why he’s keeping the quirk a secret, especially since he knows Deku is going to manifest it at some point.

so my thinking is that it’s not something about the Fourth’s history, but rather something about his quirk. and after all, the Vestige storyline is mainly about the SIXQUIRKS anyway, so that tracks. and so if it is something related to the Fourth’s quirk, and this something also convinced All Might to hide the Fourth’s cause of death, I think the most likely explanation is that something about the Fourth’s quirk ended up killing him, and All Might fears that this quirk could potentially harm or kill Deku as well.

“but if the Fourth’s quirk is potentially dangerous, then wouldn’t it make more sense to tell Deku about it so that he can be prepared?” well, yeah. definitely it would. unless, of course, All Might has somehow concluded that the danger to Deku is actually GREATER if he knows than if he doesn’t know. in other words, the risk of the quirk manifesting with Deku unaware of what it is, is outweighed by the risk of Deku knowing and manifesting it on purpose.

and this, I think, is where the rest of Katsuki’s conversation with All Might in ch 284 comes into play:

All Might has no doubt observed the same thing himself. and so what I’m thinking is that this must be some kind of super high-risk, high-reward quirk that Deku, if he knew about it, would be tempted to use while battling someone like Tomura, even knowing there was a risk of it hurting or even killing him as well. this is Deku, after all. Deku, who takes himself out of the equation. Deku, who is ALREADY pushing himself to extremes with OFA and has been doing so from the start. Deku, who barring a miracle will be lucky to have even 1/10th of the normal function in his arms when this arc is said and done. and that’s just with normal, everyday OFA and Blackwhip and Float. if you were to go and add some sort of super-self-destruct quirk on top of all that?? jesus christ. they’d be picking up the pieces of what was left of him, probably.

so yeah. if this really does turn out to be the case, and the Fourth’s quirk really is a potential suicide quirk? I could absolutely understand why All Might would keep that hidden from him. once again, it’s all about protecting him and keeping him safe.

and it’s problematic though, for sure! and most likely futile just like all of his other secret-keeping efforts have been. at some point he’s just going to have to start trusting Deku to handle this stuff, and letting him know these things. like it or not, he’s not going to be a kid forever, and Destiny is currently being Thrust Upon Him at a fairly alarming rate! pretending like all of these threats will just magically go away all on their own is not it. if you didn’t want peril lusting over him at every corner then you shouldn’t have chosen a motherfucking Shounen Protag as your motherfucking heir, my dude.

anyway! so those are all of my thoughts about All Might and his secrets. I do think Deku is gonna call him out on it again soon, and I think All Might will be apologetic for not telling him about Tomura and Nana, but I don’t know if it will be enough to finally get him to change his ways and reveal everything else. he is an overprotective dad filled with anxiety over his trouble magnet son and his arm-exploding ways, and it’s a tough position for him to be in, knowing that either way there will be pain that Deku can’t avoid. it’s rough. anyways, maybe I’m too soft, but while I don’t necessarily want him to just keep getting free passes on everything, I kind of hope they don’t rake him over the coals too badly for it either. he means well!! he is doing his best. hopefully they can manage to talk it out, sob.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #all might #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #I'm so behind on my metas that while everyone else is posting about dabi and enji #I'm only just now getting around to organizing my thoughts on stuff that was revealed seven chapters ago lol #ah well #no chapter this week so I'll have some time to catch up maybe

750 notes · View notes

all-things-fic · 3 years

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

A/N - Hello, you lovely lot! Hope you are all keeping well in these utterly shit Covid times. Who would’ve thought that we would still be here in December?! Please see my offering for @goldenbluesuit‘s Christmas Fic Challenge. Hope I’ve done a bit of justice with this piece.

I can remember Katie texting me telling me about the challenge, and I’ll admit I was given first dibs and now I’m absolutely shitting myself because I’ve seen all the brillaint entries so far and I’m not sure I really cut the mustard with this piece but I’m proud of myself for being able to put a solid 70% of this together in just one day (that one day being today).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Katie has done a brilliant job and I know how grateful she is towards anyone who has joined the challenge or supported by reading/sharing etc.... I need to stop rambling... Okay, thank you for sticking with me as always and happy reading! .x

***

The last thing you remembered actually reading in the group chat was “make sure you have your wellies”. You were glad that you remembered that part at the very least.

Winds whipped around you as you buried your face further into your cream roll neck cable knit jumper, all but hidden underneath your tobacco borg teddy coat that someone had already likened to Macklemore.

Nothing like being back home with your closest and oldest friends.

Mud squelched under your feet as you walked in line with two of your oldest girl friends, eyes looking over the four males in front of you as they led the way over the grassy hills.

There had been zero planning on what today’s events would bring. It was quite clear that the seven of you just wanted to be reunited with the country air and wind bitten cheeks.

It was nice. How simple it was. On the surface at the very least. That was until you zoned in on the little things.

Like his laugh. The same laugh that always carried somehow and it seemed like the wind was making it that much more prominent than usual today.

There was no denying, he had this glow about him. Even from the back of him. You felt silly for thinking it, but it was true. It was in the way he held himself as he attacked the grassy hills with his feet clad wellies and brown trousers.

Life had changed a lot in over a decade. Christ, had it been that long? You’d all gone from baby teenagers to fully fledged adults. The age range of your friendship differing slightly, the odd person here and there slightly older than a couple of people in the group.

Nonetheless, many of the experiences had been the same. The big job offers, and the even bigger promotions. The heartbreaks, regardless of their prominence or lack of, had been the felt the same. The flirtation between some of you sparked probably a bit more so now with a finesse that didn’t have you rolling your eyes but rather leaning into it.

Four out of seven of you were single. Jack and Jonny were virtually married off, however neither of them were with their partners this year with both deciding to spend Christmas at home and New Years with their significant others. Alice was still loved up and going strong with her fella, as was Grace who you hadn’t heard a peep from as she constantly checked her phone to see when the person she was besotted with finally arrived up North thanks to West Midlands Trains pulling into Crewe.

So that left Will, you and Harry. Harry who had quite publicly made it known that he was single. Well, according to your Mum he had, in several interviews. Including the one that she had described as an ‘incredibly relaxing watch and nice background noise to my Sunday evening brew and ironing session’.

That was a strange one for you, his honesty. In earlier years of friendship, he always seemed quite aloof. Like he was keeping his options open. Guarded in a way that frustrated at least 75% of the friendship group, in the nicest way possible. You knew that was a contradiction but any annoyance came from a good place.

You remembered one night in 2014 when he wouldn’t quite give you a straight answer over tequila shots whether he was shagging someone or not. You also remember the way he’d been pulled away from you tactfully by Alice that night when she sensed how you were about to blow up at his lackadaisical attitude.

The same had been felt in 2016. Not so much in 2018, but you weren’t single then so maybe you just didn’t care.

2019 was significantly different though.

See the thing was, you knew him now. Like, knew knew him.

Some would think it was a lapse of judgment, a reading that you would agree upon given what had happened two days prior if ever prodded about it publicly.

Others would vehemently disagree. Stating how long any sort of energy between the two of you had been bubbling for a number of years.

Looking back you couldn’t even understand why you’d attended his show. You lived in Camden and it made sense, but that’s where the sense stopped. Even the ways he had reached out had been one of the most random messages you’d received from him

There was no context, just a simple ‘I’m playing the Electric Ballroom and there’s tickets waiting for you if you want ‘em.’

And the thing was, you loved that venue. The grungy-ness of it all. The way you had stuck to the floor while trying to dance along to the likes of The Hives and Kings of Leon when seeing them playing there, basking in your sweaty happiness.

But the stickiness of the floor and sweatiness of the room didn’t compare to the stickiness and sweatiness you later found yourself partaking in as Harry took you from behind over the side of his couch.

A shiver rolled through you at the thought, one that you would blame on the December bitter chill because it was a secret. One that neither of you had mentioned since it happened on Thursday night, or to be technically correct the early hours of Friday morning.

He’d been good. Of course he had been.

He had that way about him that night that pulled you under a false sense of endeared security. From his dimpled smile to gleaming eyes. He was happy.

And the way he had shone as he found you on the balcony had warmed you like nothing you had known in the longest time.

It caused you to forget about the worry that had laden you limbs as you turned up at 9.13pm to the wooden doors of the building, wondering how many songs he was in to the set as you convinced yourself he would start at 9.00pm.

As you’d been ushered over to a clear box window and uttered your name to a dorky looking man wearing a tracksuit pull over and watched him handover a white envelope through the circle hatch.

You stood in the dark, next to two much younger girls who enjoyed the way his glances lingered over at their side. Eyes had found Gemma in the opposite corner of the balcony, her dancing and singing with some recognisable faces mainly more so because you had seen them on social media.

You, however, kept yourself to yourself. Until you were anchored in the tightest hug from Gemma that you had ever felt from her and swayed from side to side as she made it known how pleased she was to see you once the concert was over.

That familiarity had been nice. The vibrancy of nostalgia consuming you in your entirety.

Watching him work a room when he finally entered the after party was a sight to behold, in his navy blue pinstripe suit and yellow ‘I’m gonna die lonely’ t-shirt.

He wasn’t. Gonna die lonely, that is.

He glided so smoothly from one person to the next, spilling a drink down himself in the process you’d seen (and later felt when your hand clung to the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed), making time for everyone in his own unique way.

Big eyes followed you over Gemma’s shoulder when he had finally found himself within your circle and hugged his sister once more that evening. They were hard to read but also openly filled with a glimmer of hope as he dropped his gaze to see what you were wearing.

And when he approached you, he hugged you in a way that managed to pull you into the darkened corner of the dingy space. Spinning your body to keep your face concealed from any prying eyes.

He revealed to you how he didn’t think you were going to turn up, scanning you with his gaze as he spoke. You did the same, a bit taken aback by just how attractive you were finding him. He had always been handsome but the aura he gave off, made your fingers itch to have him closer to you.

Words ran away from you that night as he begged and pleaded with you to tell him what your favourite song had been. Based on first impressions, which the show has been, then Canyon Moon and Watermelon Sugar had smothered you and given you no other option but to pick them.

If he were to ask you now you’d probably say To Be So Lonely, thanks to the drive home being longer than originally thought and said album being your choice of road trip music.

Forget Driving Home For Christmas, nothing slapped more than one of your closest friends admitting to being an arrogant son of a bitch.

After your chat, he mingled some more but Harry was always tactile and that night had been no different. He veered conversations with people you had never seen before to take place by the zone that you all occupied.

He actively kept his back against yours, allowing the faintest of touches and brushing of arms - sometimes hands too if he dropped them down heavily enough with his arms as he spoke - to entice and create a spark.

You were kept late enough to miss the last tube. Battery dangerously low on your phone that you didn’t know if a transaction with Uber would be worth a try.

Jumping into the same car as him had been easy. His soft and tired eyes findings yours in the cab as he leant his head back against the headrest in the back seat and let his lips tip upwards in an expression of tenderness that had you melting in your seat.

“‘S been a while since we’ve both been a bit pissed in the back of a taxi,” he mused, pushing his fallen locks out of his eyes to ensure his view of you wasn’t obscured. “Come an’ cuddle me like you used to do when we went out a’ home and were worse for wear.”

Falling into his side was almost second nature, eyes closing as you let your forehead rest against his jawline and let his worn in cologne fill you senses and scatter your judgment.

You don’t even remember how you ended up kissing that night. A mixture of confessions about missing each other and praise of how good you both were in your own ways. The sound of his whispered, “are you coming home wi’me?” against your lips an offer too good for you to refuse as you sat pressed into his side and half in his lap.

The giggles that night, around dramatic shushes as you tripped and shuffled from the car to his front door were almost haunting in your memory as he tried to chastise you around spluttered laughter about being respectful of his neighbours.

Getting the key in the lock proved unchallenging - one of the better analogies aligned to your memories and latter sexual endeavours - as you slipped into the house. He enjoyed watching the way you walked ahead of him into his home, not realising how much he needed that visual of seeing how well you fit in.

While time seemed to slow in that moment, movements desperately sought the opposite. Hands gripped and clawed like their lives depended upon it.

Looking back now, both he and you wished it hadn’t happened the way it did. Skirt lifted and over the side of his couch. Teeth clashing and hips knocking.

It had been every inch a drunken fumble. A first meeting slightly cheapened but wanted nonetheless. Only made even cheaper by the hush-hush concealing of it ever occurring.

But a secret it was and a secret it would remain.

And oh how you wished you had a pillow you could press you face into right now and scream, this time for an entirely different reason. Unlike that night.

“Not seen a sign of any deer yet, mate,” you heard a voice break you out of your indulgence of recollecting past events. Harry was the worst at wanting to get a reaction.

“Christ, have a bit of patience would yer?”

You smiled at the bickering, just like it always was as the River Dane could be heard in the distance somewhere as you walked. If you listened really close, that is.

Lifting your eyes, your smile lingered as you watched Harry spin his body around and let his hands get lost in the massive pockets of his parka. He walked backwards holding your gaze softly with his eyes twinkling before he gently rolled them at the overreaction and impatience of your friends.

He seemed pleased that you’d enjoyed his teasing as you once again hid you smile into your jumper.

You’d be alright.

***

You heard giggles and screams ahead of you as your friends stumbled in the dark and messed about as you got closer to the viaduct. This place or the people didn’t change, and at times while it filled you with a warm nostalgia, it could be heavily jarring.

A soft and lazy smile pulled at your lips as you felt his heavy forearm lightly tug you closer to him, his lips finding your hair. And then there was Harry.

“Think we should go this way m’self,” Harry mumbled, the nudge of his hips against yours had you stumbling slightly in your heels away from the direction of your friends and somewhere completely different.

“And why’s that?” You turned your face slightly, cheeks warm and flushed thanks to the mixture of alcoholic beverages; eyes glazed as they lifted up to look at him.

“Cause you never would’ve let me when I was sixteen,” he admitted.

“You didn’t ask.”

“‘M askin’ now.”

With slow blinking eyes, you looked at his own unfocused vision. A soft shine to his skin, hair blowing gently against his forehead. The softest of smiles tilted at your lips.

“On yer go,” he nudged you forward, this time more so with his crotch and his hands, which wrapped around your hips to help steer you. Harry was met with only a small amount of resistance from you as you split off from your friends and turned in the different direction.

You bit back your laugh, dropping your head slightly as you felt your heels started to sink into the grass as you walked. Harry was level with you when you sunk down noticing the way you legs slightly gave way, a soft chuckle omitting from his throat as he asked, “You alrigh’?”

“I’m sinking in these bloody things,” you grumbled, pulling your heel from the grass and trying to place the sole of your shoe onto the ground beneath you first.

“So much for no’ being able to take the country out o’ the girl. London’s changed yer, swear it.”

Shaking your head, you cut your eyes to give him a harsh stare for his wind up. His amused expression lit a fire in you like no other. He really wasn’t one to talk though, was he?

“Gi’me your hand ‘ere,” he held his out to you, quickly cupping it when you handed it over and pulled it under his bent elbow. “Remind me again who’s idea this was, eh?”

He didn’t need reminding, he had been one of the keen instigators for the whole jaunt down Twemlow Viaduct. It usually was him, or Jack. The two of them often reminiscing on times they had both raided their parents' alcohol cupboards and managed to sneak out with some dusty bottle that held a liquor that tasted out of date and stale, and if not that then, cheap.

“‘S still fucking freezing down ‘ere, in’it?” He asked, lifting his left hand up to his mouth and blowing against it to try and get some feeling back into his fingers.

“We’re so close to the river, I don’t know why you’d expect anything different?”

“Is this why everyone was always so insistent on necking anything with over 11% alcohol in it when we came down ‘ere as kids?”

“Probably,” you softly laughed.

“‘S a bit different now though innit?”

“Oh, I’m not so sure,” you started to correct him, shrugging your hand out from under his elbow and reaching for your bag. Quickly fumbling with the clasp, you lifted up the quilted flap and managed to pull out the stainless steel hip flask.

Harry cackled a harsh laugh, his eyes crinkling as he slowly let his laughter die down and softly let his joy wash over his features. “Impressive. Gone all proper on me.”

“You know I haven’t,” you held his eyes watching as he nervously cupped at the back of his neck for a short while, a gentle bite down of his bottom lip, as you quickly uncapped the item and held it out to him. He looked like he needed the courage. You continued, “We’re just a bit more refined, that and we earn a good living. Some more than others, and by some I mean you.”

He held his hand up towards you with an amused grin at your comment. “You first, ‘s yours after all.”

Lifting the item and knocking back your head, you swallowed the whiskey with a small grimace, before offering it to Harry once more. This time he accepted, his right hand making light work of taking the item from your hands and sipping at the contents.

His face wasn’t as contorted as your’s when he swallowed, a fan of the chosen beverage if needs must. “‘S the proper stuff, tha’ is,” he commented with a quick lick of his lips before continuing, “Come a long way from sneaking the bottles of dusty Blossom Hill from the back of the cupboard.”

“Don’t know about that,” you smiled, taking the item and pushing it back into your bag. “I’d still drink if, if it were on offer.”

“‘M sure Mum’s got a bottle or two going at home?”

“Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” You paused. “Again.”

Harry remained silent at your words. Both you and he knew it was going to happen. A mixture of sparks and lovelorn, lingering glances was enough to make anyone both want to give up, while also giving a burning confidence usually unknown.

Neither of you expected it would be you who started the conversation, however.

“It is, ‘f it’s gonna work. ‘M not sure I could wait any longer t’be’onest wi’yer.“

Laughing, you reached up to push at his shoulder. He always knew exactly what to say, but no way was he going to make a laughing stock of the whole thing. “Oh, give over,” you spoke, harshly swallowing when he kept your hand against the thick cable knit black jumper he had on. “You’ve made it this far, thus far just fine.”

“‘M not playin’,” he whispered, hand gently curling around your own and lifting it up to press against his face. His cheeks were warm underneath the cooler hands, despite the cold night whipping around you both and your mind quickly wondered if he was just as embarrassed for his lack of acknowledgment as you had been. “Homes nice, you’re nicer.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it,” you let your soft voice get taken by the wind.

“An’ what gave you tha’ impression?”

He did. He gave you that impression. By not mentioning it. By treating you how he always did.

“You.”

“Me?” Harry responded, indignantly, blowing out a sigh that had his cheeks puffing out underneath your hand. “‘M not doing a very good job then am I? I can’t keep m’eyes off o’you. ‘S not my fault you don’t bloody notice ‘em.”

But you had noticed them.

His eyes, gaze following your every move, near enough. Stupid little touches. Glances of approval. Not just now, but from years before.

Treating you how he always did.

Oh, treating you how he always did.

Bringing your eyes back to his figure, you saw the way his gaze darted and nervousness dragged at his features. A frown began to set itself between his eyebrows from worry.

“Changes everything.”

Running his tongue along his teeth, Harry pursed his lips. “Everythin’ has changed, changed a long time ago an’all.”

You dropped your hand down, it now massaging against the back of his neck and shoulder as you felt the tension of his body radiating through his clothes. Under the dim moonlight and the odd spotlight that had been added to the viaduct with each passing year for safety, Harry exhumed everything anyone would want in a boyfriend. He was soft, and so bloody gorgeous. Not just because he was personification of an almost six foot tall string of handsomeness, but his character did the talking for him.

He knocked the door before he walked into a room, for example. Who really did that kind of thing anymore?

But you could also still see the heartbreak that lingered, albeit not as strong as it once was, it was still there. And that was problematic and scary. To be on the receiving end of it. Not that you would hold it against him, because you had been him at one point too. At many points in fact.

When the two of you had shagged, because let’s face it that is exactly what it had been, while a sense of familiarity in the person was prevalent it was definitely overruled by the desire to just hit a euphoric high that if hit right could not be topped.

Familiar overruled in other aspects, and it wasn’t to be brushed away. But was familiarity a mask that would slip sooner rather than later? Was it the start and the end?

The both of you experienced similarities in your life that could not be matched by the friends in your friendship group. London had chewed you up and spat you out, ruthlessly so. While rewarding you with long hours but fat pay cheques, careers that catapulted you to new heights and enabled you to see parts of the world that two country kids (which in one way you were) could never have imagined.

Sure Harry’s had been on a much, much larger scale - you would not ever deny that - but you no longer fit in.

And neither did he.

This was a place that only the two of you knew. A place where you watched those around you fall in love and have the time to do so. A place where your friend's happiness was created a lot easier than it wasn’t and allowed a sense of success to weave its way in, through the most unexpected of happenings.

Not a place where you found happiness in your work because there was less of a space for happiness to blossom elsewhere. Not really. Not like you; both of you.

Understanding was vital.

This had been a place you knew like the back of your hand. A place that had you feeling the earth beneath your feet, fresh air in your lungs and had at times made it so you found yourself sitting by a river and finding yourself feeling complete.

Yet looking over at the almost 26 year old, that just wasn’t the case anymore.

And for once you didn’t feel alone.

The sound of the odd piece of cobbled pavement underneath Harry shoes, buried beneath overgrown grass and plants, broke you from your thoughts, as you watched him kick at the ground and scuff his shoes.

He sighed, head tilted back before he knocked it to the side and caught your eyes. A small scoffed laugh left his lips as he shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet.

“‘S it fucked?”

You hummed, a small frown lacing your features.

“Fucked it, haven’t I? Fuckin’- idiot-“ he breathed out a noise as he clenched his teeth, one that wasn’t quite a growl but enough to let you know he was agitated. Only strengthened by how tight his jaw became.

Before you could even think, the back of your hand gently brushed against the pulsing hinge of his jaw. Muscles taut as you tried to soothe him in a way that your mind was screaming was far too intimate.

You didn’t want him having any internal battle about right and wrong. Not when you had both taken the same steps to get here.

“Thought it was just meant as a one time thing,” you admitted. “Like you needed it, and I needed it. Was what it needed to be at the time. Bit rough, bit sloppy-“

You cringed are the use of the word. Wanting the ground to swallow you in a weird fashion. You should be able to talk open and honestly with someone who you had known longer than hadn’t.

“Rough?“ Harry swallowed audibly, his face fallen. “That’s not-“

His eyes held an emotion similar to sorrow at the mention of the word. “That’s not the impression I wanted to give you.”

“We were both drunk, it happens.”

“Not with me it doesn’t. Not when it’s me, wanting to be wi’you.”

“I mean I was into it if that helps anything?”

“Were yer?”

You looked at him from the corner of your vision, watching his lips try to fight a smile as you rolled yours into your mouth to not give yourself away. You knew what you were trying to do by speaking those words aloud but you wished you hadn’t. Awkward breathy laughs were shared by the two of you as you held his eyes.

“Was I?”

You hummed in agreement to answer his question, letting your smile dance along your lips now and watching as Harry’s dimples started to show. His expression was youthful, slightly smug.

“Good t’know.”

***

Finishing saying your goodbyes to your friends and ignoring their suggestive expression because ‘Harry was stopping as an extra pair of hands’, you shut the heavy wooden door and reached up to close the deadbolt lock at the top. Shortly after, you let your feet drop as you stopped standing on your tiptoes and pressed your forehead against the door.

The silence of the pub was always a strange one to you. A place that was usually thriving, whether it was just your friends, or your parents friends. When the lights were turned out, it was actually quite a lonely place. Regardless of growing up around this sort of industry your entire life and having parents as publicans nothing was more depressing than an empty bar, lifeless and nothing like it was intended.

A suggested lock-in from Jack, who managed to interrupt both yours and Harry’s conversation earlier had not been a bad shout after all. You knew it meant that you would have to deal with the fallout with it being Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t very often that you found yourself in the setting.

Turning to move from the door, you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the opening of a familiar Lily Allen song start to play over the speakers.

Harry emerged from the corner of the pub that housed the jukebox, slowly rubbing his hands together before he wordlessly picked up the scattered pint glasses that had remained on one of the tables that had been missed by the staff on the evening shift. His eyes glanced over at you, as you stood with a hand to your chest.

This wicked smile and gleam washed over his face as he paused his movement. “Did I scare yer?”

“Do you not think it’s a bit loud?”

He wrinkled his nose at you, a soft shake of his head no, to answer your question.

“‘S your fave innit?” He asked, head nudging to where the jukebox was now hidden.

With a small smile you nodded, “Prefer the Keane version in all honesty.”

“Don’t have it in the bloody jukebox though, d’yer? Can’t like it that much.”

Your smile deepened at his exclaim and how prominent his accent sounded as he spoke, the small clink of the glasses he was holding only heard if you really zoned in.

“Where d’yer want these?” He asked, holding up the five pint glasses he had collected. “Behind t’bar?”

Humming, you nodded and watched as he weaved his way through the tables to you. You frowned as he got closer, not understanding why he hadn’t bypassed you completely.

Once he was close enough to you, you watched as he reached for what you knew to be your own glass of wine that was almost finished.

“Fancy the rest of this or can it go too?”

Looking at him and down to the glass, you gently wrapped your hand around it and brought the lip to your mouth. You knocked the item back quickly, swallowing the rest of your wine, before handing over the now empty glass back to Harry.

“Good girl,” he joked, light laughter lacing each word. “Sit yourself down.”

Wearing an amused and quizzical expression, you let yourself sink down into the wooden chair. Resting your chin on your hand, you spun slightly in your seat to keep your eyes on Harry as he placed the glasses down and lifted the hatch so he could step behind the bar.

With your free hand, you started to tap the worn beer coaster labelled with the Cheshire Brewhouse logo against the table. Part of you hated how Harry had a knack for anything, including knowing his way around a bar.

He busied himself with collating the glasses once more as you let your eyes take in the surroundings you had known, loved and even grown out of.

Your parent’s pub was cosy and friendly. A truly

classic and quintessential British village pub, featuring open fires, bookcases found in the very far corner or the jukebox in the other, lots of old oak and a really pleasant garden with benches for the summat and heaters for the winter. You know the kind that had its regulars that had kids who had seen each other grow up.

The bar was the centre of the pubs house, with an extensive array of whiskies amongst many other delights. A nice range of local ales and a well-balanced, great quality list of wines on offer designed (which you would be taste testing if the service hadn’t decided to take a break) to complement the food menus designed daily by a team of chefs who all have a passion for great cooking using fresh, seasonal and local ingredients.

It looked as Christmassy as Christmas could get, with a real tree which was locally sourced from one of the many surrounding farms and traditionally decorated with golds and reds. Twinkly lights shone, not only on the trees but as part of the garland that was hung above the bar each year, much to the annoyance of your Dad and the delight of your Mum.

Slowly dragging your eyes back to the bar, you watched Harry as he poured you another glass of white wine and started to recap the bottle. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, his gaze meeting yours almost immediately.

“Service is a bit slow,” you jibed, once you knew he was with you. “Going to ruin the reputation of a fine establishment.”

His chuckle was breathy in response, but warmed you through as he turned his back and pushed his tumbler glass up against the device at the bottom of the Glenfiddich distilled malt whiskey, not once but twice going for a double.

“Helping yourself to the stock now, as well.”

“‘M sure your Dad won’t mind,” he responded, twisting his body back around to reach for your own glass and place it onto a tray that sat along the bar top. “In fact he’d probably make a comment about how it’d put hairs on m’chest.”

You laughed, unrestrained, knowing just how right he had been with that comment.

Over the otherside of the room, Harry smiled and shushed you as he walked closer, easily holding the tray with your drinks upon it. “Being a bit loud,” he taunted as he slid the tray down to the oak table.

“Oh, now you’re concerned about the noise.”

With his hand against the back of the chair which was currently housing your outstretched legs, you felt him start to wobble the seat to give you a warning.

“Hang on,” you said, “Plenty of other chairs.”

“This one’s mine,” he responded.

Wanting to roll your eyes but deciding not to, you let your legs drop down and gave the seat back to Harry. Once he was comfortable and he’d taken your drink off the tray, he gestured with his right hand.

Not entirely focused, he had to do the ‘come hither’ motion a couple of times before you finally cottoned on. He was willing to let you put your legs on his lap instead, while he may have taken the seat it didn’t mean he wanted to take away your comfort.

No sooner had your legs been raised to rest against his tan washed velvet corduroy trousers, was he fiddling with the buckle of your stiletto sandals.

“Got mud everywhere,” you commented, wiggling your toes that were painted a festive red and inspecting the little dots of dirt that were splattered against your skin, as Harry dropped the first shoe to the floor and quickly worked on the second. “Dread to think what they smell like.”

“Smell alrigh’ from ‘ere,” he mused, smirk faint but glaring obvious in his tone of voice as he threw a quick and mischievous glance at you. As you elongated your foot against his thighs, the tips of your toes were just about able to press into his thick jumper to try and jab at him for his comment.

Before you were able to put any sort of force behind your action, Harry’s hand clamped down around the top of your foot causing your eyes to snap up away from his hand and up to his eyes.

There he sat watching you, top two teeth pressed into his bottom lip keep his smile at bay. Releasing his lips slowly, his whispered threat left his throat, “I will tickle.”

You tried to fidget away but to no avail. With a whined laugh, you frowned as Harry goaded you by slowly raising his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You had tried him.

Truth be told you wanted to again.

If he wanted to.

Reaching for your wine, you took a hefty sip and let the silence swallow you both. Harry, who kept his hand on your foot and his fingers dancing gently against the top, let his head fall back awkwardly against the hardwood. His head dropped to the side taking in his surroundings and their familiarity.

“Do you ever get tired of coming back?”

You hummed, sure you had misheard due to the way the blood was rushing around your ears. He turned to look at you, all double chin and puffy cheeks.

“Of everything being the same, but different?”

His whispers captivated you, hushed confessions not quite meant for anyone else but his own mind yet spilling from him with such an ease that he did nothing to fight them.

“I’ll admit, I come home for other people. Not for me.”

“People?”

“Mum, Dad,” you paused. “You.”

His smile deepened. His chin knocking down to his chest, his eyes looking up at you from underneath his curling hair from being caught in the moist winter evening just hours before.

“You can stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you did three nights ago.”

Harry breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring and his chest expanding. A lick of his lips, before his mouth dropped to sit slightly agape.

“What if I don’t wan’to? What if I want t’look at yer like this all the time?”

You found yourself unable to respond, nose burying itself into your wine glass as you pressed your lips against the cool outside to try and hide your burning smile.

His lips curled lightly, before he breathed a laugh once and gently shook your foot with his hand. “Eh? Come ‘ere-“

“Harry,” you breathed.

“C’mon, c’mere. ‘S room for more than just your feet.”

If it wasn’t for the creak of your chair as you slowly started to push yourself out of it, you wouldn’t have consciously been aware of how you were making your way to him.

His body relaxed, somehow managing to become closer to horizontal than sitting upright in his seat, as he peered as you walking the short distance over to him.

With his legs widened, he pressed his face into your side now that you were close enough. His nose inhaled the familiar scent of your perfume which was only faint now due to the other senses and scents it had mixed with throughout the evening.

Rolling his face out of your body, he knocked his head back and pressed his chin where his face had been. The face you showed him was worn with worry, an expression he did not want to meet.

“‘S wrong?”

His ask was lazy. Not wanting to dig deep and know. What if he didn’t like what he found?

“We know how this is going to end.”

“Do we?” He prodded. His eyes moved over your features quickly before they partly disappeared to him, thanks to your curtain of hair which slowly fell down.

His hand reached up, desperately brushing it away and cupping at the back of your head as best as he could while he remained seated.

“How’s that? Tell me.”

“Same, but different.”

You knew you shouldn’t use his words, not in a way that could be considered against him, but they - in the most ambiguous of ways - described everything perfectly.

“Not if I have my way.”

His words were almost lost against your stomach as he pressed his face against you once more and wrapped his hands around you; sweaty, nervous palms pressing to the backs of your thighs.

“Same, but better.”

Harry guided you down to his lap, his lips somehow managing to remain pressed into stomach, or your chest, or your clavicle, as your face became level with his.

“Different, but better.”

He kissed against your cheek slowly, nose nudging at your skin as he willed for you to relax against him. “I don’t know how you like it, like this,” he whispered in confession. “Show me?”

A puff of air left your lips as you turned to look at him with hooded eyes. His mouth was closer to yours than you originally thought, corners of lips brushing as you slightly pulled away.

When your lips met, it was in the softest of pecks that trembled under your nerves. Both sets of eyes looking back at each other as you innocently engaged.

If you were to take your eyes away from him in any way, you would notice those fluffy curls of his falling over his forehead and the lightest dusting of red blush making itself known against his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

He felt like a school boy, lost and clumsy. The kid who was once again flicking paper at you in science class just so he could pull a face at you over something your teacher was saying to get you to laugh.

Mouths hovering over each other, your breathing mixed, as Harry nodded to you slightly. You pressed your lips to his once more, feeling the way he gradually opened up to you, warmed and softened underneath the puckering of your mouth against his.

His hands, that slightly trembled, smoothed over your hips trying to pull your body so that it was more so flush against his. You moaned softly, your hands running over his jumper covered shoulders, fingers digging and pulling at the material just below the nape of his neck.

The chair beneath you moved lightly against the floor, not quite a scrape but a dull drag. Neither of you broke the kiss, but his hands against you allowed fingers to dig in to hold you steady to him so if you were to fall from where you were sitting, he still had you.

His lips slowed, moving to press against your cheeks again as he panted and his warmth breath bounced off your skin. “Think I got it,” he heaved.

“Do you?”

Harry hummed his ‘yea’, before pressing his lips so tenderly to your chin and the underside of your jaw. He felt how you swallowed heavily, throat dry from the way your mouth hung open and your neck further exposed itself as you lolled your head back.

You were falling further and further back, finding it hard to stay upright as he devoured you and made you weaker with each pulling kiss. His groans were needy, muffled and making your ache. While yours were silent and making his desperate to pull something from you. To build is confidence in that he was doing something right, you liked it this way too.

Hands fumbled and dragged upwards at your skirt, faintly aware now how it was similar - if not the same one - to the garment you wore to his show.

“Gonna take this off properly,” he mumbled, feeling the way your hips moved slightly from his hands to roll over him.

“You don’t have to-“

“No?”

Your voices were rushed as you spoke to each other, barely audible but loud enough all the same. His head was knocked back slightly as you hovered over him and you found yourself admiring his blissed out face even only in the lead up.

This was a sight that you hadn’t received last time, and if you had your way it was one you were going to greedily enjoy in all its glory.

Like watching the way his eyes closed and he softly grinned, the left side of his teeth started to show as the one side of his face reacted first while your hands blindly moved to lift up his jumper and the white tee he had on underneath, to allow you to find the button of his corduroys.

“What ya doing?”

“Nothing,” you mused.

He pulled a face, the kind that down turned his lips, eyebrows raised and head slightly tilted to the side. The kind that had you smiling.

“Not trying to get m’trousers around m’ankles for a second time within a week then?”

You giggled. “No.”

“Please do.”

A low moan left you as you pressed your forehead to his jaw and dropped your eyes. Your hands slowly started to pull at the brass button and pop it open before seeking out the zip thanks to his desperate plea, encouraging you to continue.

Hands quickly sought out the waistband of the trousers and gently pulled at the item. From the way that you were sat, you knew there was no way you were doing to make them budge.

“Stand up fo’ me,” he mumbled, quickly helping you get off his lap so that he could make light work of his clothing and pull down his trousers and underwear.

His bare bum made easy contact with the cushion leather beneath him, eyes carefully watching you as your hands moved to underneath your skirt.

The fabric of your underwear slipped so easily down your legs, his eyes just about caught the sight of them as they pooled against your ankles and you kicked them away.

Legs pressed together, you slowly untucked the v-necked blouse you had chosen and pulled it over your head. Wearing nothing but a fancy black bra, and a tight little skirt you hastily snatched for your wine and took a hefty gulp.

You could feel his eyes on you, a gruff groan catching in the back of his throat and when you finally turned your eyes from where they had been looking down at your heaving chest and how great this bra made your boobs look, causing him to move his hand down to start playing with himself.

His name left your lips in a breathy gasp, causing you to look up quite surprised at the find of his right hand gently tugging at his hard length.

“Keepin’ me waitin’,” he groaned, his left hand sloppily reached for the back of the collar of his jumper and tee, pulling the item roughly over his head.

“Fuck sake,” he mumbled under his breath, agitated that he was unable to get both items of in one go.

“Smooth.”

Harry stared up at you with a playful squint, before he gently fell back and moved the chair as he did so, the dull scrape heard once more.

And if you didn’t know he was flushed before, when you first kissed, you were definitely aware now. His eyes were blown out and hungry as they devoured you. Hair wildly haphazard before he let go of himself with a soft slap of his skin and harshly pushed his fingers through it.

“‘S it still a couple of quid for a strip of three,” his words brought you back to him. This smugness radiated off of him as he groaned and leaned forward to push his trousers down all of the way. Over his vans and socked feet, before he toed them off as well be harshly pulled at his white sport socks.

You didn’t even need for him to explain what he meant, staying silent as you watched his hands tug at his corduroys from the floor and retrieve his wallet. As his fingers moved around to find a couple of quid, the jangle of the coins was taunting.

One leg crossed over the other, you swayed and found yourself blushing when he looked up at you once he’d managed to find enough money and then some. With his wallet thrown on the table, he stood proudly from the seat and closed the short gap between your both.

Leaning forward he easily took your lips with his own before pulling away. With his face still close to yours he whispered, “Promise not to look at my arse.”

He didn’t hang around long enough for your reply, instead turning away and brazenly giving you all the time you would ever need to admire him, his fantastic bum and his hairy legs before he opted for a jog-walk type of thing, suddenly conscious that he was absolutely walking around naked from the waist down in a pub owned by your parents.

While you waited you took a quick pull from his whiskey, needing the heftier burn for Dutch courage. Nervousness returned when you heard the endings of what you believed to be Harry whistling.

“Machine ate all m’fuckin’ change,” he grumbled, regardless of the twinkle in his eye at the strip of overpriced condoms he had managed to score from the men’s bathroom. “‘S Durex. Business must be booming, your Dad’s definitely gone up in the world.”

“Please don’t talk about my Dad.”

He smiled brightly before he reached for your face with one hand and pulled you towards him mumbling his ‘sorry’s’ against your lips as he gave you several kisses in quick succession.

His other arm loosely wrapped around your back and pulled you with him as he walked backwards and slowly lowered himself back onto his previous seat. The chair creaked as you joined him, slipping into his lap and feeling the way he was smiling now.

Pulling away from your kiss, he quickly tore away one of the condoms allowing the others to fall without much care to the floor. Teeth took a hold of the foil-like packaging and he tore it not so elegantly with his eagerness.

With his cock nestled in the crease of his own thigh now, the heat radiating from it matched your own agonising yearning. Scooting back to give him space, you heard him groan as he gently rolled the condom down onto himself. Eyes looking up just in time to see him knocking his head back and breathing deeply through nose. The foil-like packaging was back in between his teeth once more as his hands were otherwise preoccupied.

Slowly your hand reached up to take it from his mouth, feeling some playful resistance as Harry continued to hold it in his teeth. His eyes were open and boyishly sincere, as you tugged at the item and he finally released it when you lightly laughed.

“Gi’me a kiss.”

Obliging him, you leant forward and slotted your mouths together a lot easier than you had done at the start of the night. A heat built easily between the two of you, as Harry gave you his tongue and you felt the flex of his jaw under your hand as he worked your mouths together.

He was eager, his hands tightening on your waist before he growled when he understood he had to grab handfuls of skirt before he could cup your backside. But when his skin met yours and you ground down onto his lap, the groan that left him was the most animalistic sound imaginable.

The frown your face fell into showed your desire to whimper, as he kept you atop him and marvelled in the way you writhed, both from satisfaction and keenness at the pressure of his cock against you.

“Can I have you again?” He asked, the startings of sweaty hair being pushed off your face. His eyes peered at you, searching for his answer as you seemed to be able to do nothing but pant and look back at him yearningly. “Are you letting me?”

You dragged your fingers down his t-shirt covered torso and lifted it slightly just to see the quiver of his stomach as pulled you onto him once more.

“Like this?” you voiced, meekly.

“‘F this is what you like then, yea’”, he breathed into your mouth, hands shifting your pliant body. “Is this what you want?”

You wordlessly nod, mouth falling open in a breathy gasp when he managed to move you so he sat so enticingly at your entrance. He was teasing both yourself and him, wanting to keep you both on the edge.

Harry blinked a few times as he looked at you, and you revelled in the way he couldn’t seem to concentrate. His hands held your flesh tightly, fingertips dipping into the skin of your bum cheeks as he gently guided you down.

An unattractive and dull, quite strangled noise, left your throat as you let your forehead fall against his temple. Eyes falling down you see the cups of your bra fall slack, you felt his hands softly gliding over your shoulder blades and shoulders.

He rid you of your bra, hands moving to your chest to squeeze your breasts. His jaw fell slack when you found yourself sitting snugly on his lap - on him - settled and already feeling spent.

This was so different compared to the last time; if not overwhelming so because of the way you both appeared to be so present. Each movement of your hips, and the way they rolled and grinded and dragged felt too much. So much so that you had become nothing more than a mess of short, quick breathing and blushing, sweaty cheeks.

Slack-jaw, you were unable to find it in you to return Harry’s kisses, and his joyful, breathy chuckle seemed to lead you to believe he was fine with it. In fact he was happy to keep going as you were.

Your movements were frantic, and despite the build up, not entirely driven by lust either. Harry continued to encourage you to move as you were; slow, grinding motions on his lap that caused the filthiest of groans and dirtiest of laughs from the two of you. Laughter that was only made stronger as the chair that held you both started to creak too.

You couldn’t do much about it though other than to breathe into each other’s mouth, and rock your hips together with more fervour each time.

“Yea’,” he breathed against your lips, left hand at the back of your head holding you to him, while his right rested just above your bum. “‘S better. That’s better.”

It was better. Better than last time. Better than anything before.

And while it hadn’t been frantic before, it was now as your legs that were hanging down either side of the chair started to tremble and your toes started to dig into the worn carpet beneath them. Hips knocking and your clit dragging heavenly against his public bone, you grasped his name as you buried your face into his neck and dug your nails into his nape.

Harry hissed his approval which fell to a groan as your nails pushed up into his hair and lightly pulled as you sought leverage. There were so many things you were learning this time around and his penchant for liking his hair pulled from time to time, was one of those things.

“God, ‘m gonna come soon,” he admitted, gruntly as he forced your hips down as he anchored his legs and widened his seating position. “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” you whined. “Yes. Like this-“

And as you pressed your face to his once more, he was everywhere. Soft but hard, loving but commanding. Smelled like clean washing detergent but of country air. Inviting and alluring, allowing you your lingering kisses between grounding breaths that became staccato in unison with the movement of your hips.

You aren’t ashamed of the whines that escaped your throat as you squeezed down on his cock, praised by indecipherable works that left Harry but were nothing more to you than lips moving against your rough and dry ones. Word that made the burning feeling of your pending orgasm spread through your entire body, warming you and setting you alight.

It was long and deep, with your toes curling into the carpet they were pressed against now. Barely able to catch your breath, sucking in harshly and shaking.

And when you came to, thoroughly exhausted, you noticed that he was waiting for your say so. That he could let go and enjoy the pleasure brought about by your shared labour.

“Coming-“ was all the warning that you got and was enough to encourage you to watch him as he came, his face completely void of anything other than pure pleasure. Wrinkles and frowns fade, his mouth falling open with his pink lips glinting prettily under the dim Christmas lights around you.

His forehead gleamed with sweat as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and his hips bucked up one, two and three times for good measure. “Fuck me,” he heaved gruffly.

You were suddenly desperate to feel his lips on yours despite the way you both continued to fight to get your breath back, but settled for resting them against the skin of his cheek, which was hot to the touch.

When you felt Harry start to go soft, you reluctantly pulled away and let him slip out of you. He wasn’t so keen to let you get too far, holding you just that bit higher than before with his hand cupping gently but firmly at your hip. “Where’d you think you’re going,” he hummed, eyes still closed as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale.

You softly smiled, taking in his soft face and responded by nuzzling close to him again.

Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere with him.

A place where only the two of you knew, like the back of your hand. The same way you knew each other. Now and possibly forever.

#gbsxmaschallenge #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles christmas #harry christmas

562 notes · View notes

cloudninetonine · 2 years

Note

Sorry this is hella long, blaming that on my not wanting to write a paper for class

“Someone’s claiming to have found the location of Hyrule.”

You stick your head around the doorway, looking at your sister whose sitting at the kitchen counter scrolling on their phone. “Let me guess, right next to Atlantis, and they found El Dorado on the way.”

“No, wrong person, this is a new guy, he just started looking for it.”

Looking over your sisters shoulder you see the headline, “Legend or History? Location of the Long Debated Kingdom Discovered?”

A third voice joined the conversation, “People have been getting really persistent with finding Hyrule recently,” your other sister walked into the kitchen, “its honestly making me wonder if somebody actually found something.” Their hand came up and they ruffled your hair, before gently pulling on one of your ears, “Of course we’ve got more proof, I’m holding it right now.”

You knocked their hand off your ear with a grin, your ears, decidedly not human, instead long and covered in fur, similar to a dogs, flattened again your head before relaxing. “Imagine spending millions to travel the ocean and the jungles of the world only to find out our proof is living in the middle of the suburbs.”

The quiet conversation gets interrupted as your sister kept scrolling through the article and stopping on a picture.

“Oh shit.”

“What?”

You and your sister scramble around the counter, all three of you crowding over the phone, looking at the picture.

“Is that?”

“That better not be real.”

Pictures on the phone was a picture of a sword, coated in rust and a considerable amount of mud, while the blade wasn’t anything spectacular, the shape and design on the hilt grabbed all of their attention.

“If that’s the real master sword I’m going to lose my mind.” You finally spoke after staring at the image for almost a minute.

“You can’t tell if it’s real?” One of your sisters asked you, continuing to scroll through the article.

You look at them for a few seconds, “How am I supposed to know?”

Ignoring your comment, your sister read a quote from the paper, “Validity of the object is currently being tested, and the location of discovery is not being revealed. While an exciting day for the treasure hunting community, most historical experts remain skeptical and believe this discovery to be a convincing publicity stunt.”

“Have you asked your magic sword if he knows what’s going on?” One of your sisters shrugged, gesturing to the closet that house your items, as well as the heirlooms that had been passed down through the family.

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips, “He wouldn’t tell me,” your voice raised to a mocking pitch, “apparently I haven’t proven myself loyal to Hyrule and worthy of wielding his sword.” Air quotes accompanied your words, “Hyrule not existing anymore is not a good enough reason to not having showcased my loyalty or willingness to defend the country he lived in. He still won’t even tell me his name, little bitch”

A few hours later you were standing outside of the car, talking to your mom through the window, going through the list of things you had packed. “Yes, I brought enough water and food, and a change of clothes, and the dual swords, and the stupid sentient one.” On your back was a small pack, that held more than possible, but you had long accepted the answer it was magic, since thinking too hard about it tended to make your head hurt.

“Please be careful,” you looked up as your mom spoke, pulling on a pair of leather gloves. “I’ll be back here in a week.”

You grinned, “Don’t worry mom, even if something happens, I’ll always find my way back, I promise.”

After 30 minutes of walking you stopped, took a deep breath and closed your eyes. It had been a while since you had fully shifted, and like a muscle that hadn’t been used in a long time, the movement and transformation felt slower and rusty. The sensation had been strange when you were first learning how to use it, however, years later, it was similar to riding a bike after a long time. After a brief sensation of falling, you landed on four feet.

Opening your eyes, you were taller than you were before, covered in tawny fur with black stripes and speckles along your back, complete with a long fluffy tail. Even the colors of the world shifted slightly, everything looking deeper and more vibrant than before, your pack had shifted, now resting at your side like a saddlebag, and your clothes had vanished under our fur, (something that made no sense to you, but you were immensely grateful for). You turned your head, now complete with a long and broad snout to the right, sniffing the air before moving forwards, blending in with the trees as the sun lowered in the sky.

Roughly an hour later, the sun was almost gone, and you found a large tree with a shallow wallow at it’s roots, you scratch at the dirt for a few seconds before laying down and curling up, covering your nose with you tail. Closing your eyes, you drift off to the sounds of the forest.

You slept deeply, but your dreams were confusing, a loud voice was shouting at you, but you couldn’t make out the words over the other unidentifiable noises. The voice kept growing louder, until you woke up with it still ringing in your ears, WAKE UP CHILD!

Chest pounding your head shoots up, looking around the dark forest, wake up child! The voice echoed in your head again and you got to your feet, head turning, looking for any source of the voice. The forest was dark, with no moon to light up the forest floor, and no movement could be seen through the trees. The voice filtered through your brain again, making you jump, RUN CHILD!

The urgency caused by the voice was the only thing that saved you from the dark shape that suddenly sprung from the trees, reaching out for your neck. Rearing back onto your back legs, one of your paws lashed out, making contact with something solid and alive. The shape hit the ground before standing and facing you with glowing red eyes, frozen all you could think was what the hell?

Keeping your eyes locked on the figure, the two of you began to walk in a slow circle, the dark shape trying to find and opening, and you, refusing to give it one. Your footsteps faltered when once again the voice was heard, what are you doing?! Run!

Looking at the shape you saw sharp teeth and a silver object that looked a little too much like a sword, great idea, you thought before quickly turning around and sprinting through the trees. You could hear the crashing of trees behind you as the dark figure took up the chase, and you started weaving through the trees, taking sharp turns hoping to lose them. A stream of swear words was running through your head at this point, and you were starting to feel desperate. Up ahead the forest grew lighter, and you burst from the tree line into a grassy field. If you could make it back into the cover of the forest you could hide, if you could hide maybe, you could figure out what was going on.

Too focused on the tree line you didn’t notice the dark triangle in front of you until it was too late to stop, Paws skittered across the dirt, before a heavy force hit your back, launching both of you into the swirling darkness. The sensation was strange, like you were falling but your feet could still touch solid ground. Bright light suddenly hit your eyes, and you saw the tops of trees above you. Not bothering to see any more than that, you shot to your feet and took off into the trees once again, weaving through the trees. There were no hurried footsteps behind you, but the peace of the forest made you uneasy. Your brain was still running on adrenaline and could only focus on getting away and finding a place to hide.

Through the trees you could see what looked like a barn, ducking behind a tree you took a deep breath before shifting back, once again standing on two legs. Pulling a cloak out of your bag you put it on and pulled the hood over your ears, laying them flat against the side of your head. From there you snuck through a side door, a few animals looked at you curiously, but there was no panic. Weakly walking over to a corner filled with a pile of straw, you collapsed, pulling the cloak tighter around you and closing your eyes. This time there were no dreams, and you were instead woken by a soft hand on your shoulder, and a gentle shaking.

Blearily opening your eyes, you saw a woman standing above you, with fiery red hair. Her mouth was moving but your tired brain made it hard to register what she was saying. Your ear twitched, trying to catch her words. The sensation caused you to sit bolt upright, hands flying up to the sides of your head, fur instead of fabric touching your hands, your hood must have fallen off in your sleep. In a panic you looked back up at the women, in a rush to explain yourself, you stumbled over your words.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any harm, I promise I’ll leave no trouble, please just don’t tell anybody you saw me! I’m sorr-“

A hand was held up in front of you, stopping your panicked tirade, “Hon, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Looking up you saw the woman looking at you, concern visible in her eyes, she held out her hand and helped you stand up, pulling your hood over your head, “Let’s get you cleaned up hon, you look like you’ve been through a lot. My name’s Malon, what’s yours?”

You froze mid-step when she said her name, making the connection immediately, shit.

-🐺🐯

NDNSKBSKXJAJMSKANZKSJDMSKSNDM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I FUCKING LOVE THIS SO MUCH, THANK YOU 🐺🐯

#cloud answers #Anon asks

16 notes · View notes

devotion · 3 years

Text

hold you forever → peter p.

summary: your misguided tattoo has appeared on your eighteenth birthday. however, they aren't the initials of your one and only peter parker.

warnings: angst, swears, an emotional ride, happy ending, a few suggestive references but not really.

notes: a soulmate au. prompts in bold for @rosyparkers challenge (back in aug 😔).

word count: 3.7k+ | p.p masterlist

───✦

the balmy weather outside would have been a welcoming relief for you if you didn't spend your birthday staying cooped up in your room for the past couple of hours. you had other plans; all spent with the company of your best friends and boyfriend.

maybe a little campfire at the end of the day - cooking your favourite s'mores and doing everything and anything that you deemed enjoyable. it was your day after all. but your sullen mood had gotten the best of you - the reason why brought you down almost instantly you found out. like the sky no longer seemed limitless anymore.

you should have been thankful. while your parents were out, getting decorations and preparing for the ultimate birthday you were going to have, there you were -- leaning on your bedroom door and part of your head buried between your knees, ignoring all the incoming messages and calls from anyone - especially him.

it would have been a lie if you said that you weren't expecting this; almost everyone you knew looked forward to their big day. to have a clue on who their better half would be. with that in mind, you and peter had barely mentioned soulmates before, except you both denied the concept - as really - it was just too good to be true. and instead, settled on the fact that they just simply didn't exist.

however, not a single ounce of your being succumbed to admitting it wholeheartedly. and now you were paying the price - lying to peter that, in reality, you had always been smitten with the fact that there was someone to love out there. someone destined for you. someone who could be your personal hero. but who knew that, from the very start, you were mistaken about your own? to the point you had overlooked it completely because you were that confident it was him -- peter.

your peter.

but to see - that your wrist had initials miraculously engraved on your left wrist was anything but his; it truly shook you - expecting no other than two p's. not one with the letter b next to it.

but part of you guessed the universe didn't always have the plan you wished for. and even if it meant dying without him - with nobody to take care for you, to give you the physical affection you deeply craved for -- that urgent need seemed to only be a desire at that moment. it was equal to nothing. it didn't matter at all no matter how much you wanted him.

he just wasn't yours.

it hadn't hit noon as of yet, but peter dwelled on why you hadn't texted him back, even bearing in mind that he knew you were a pretty shit texter, but the feeling of discomfort planted itself inside peter's chest.

why were you so stressed?

peter sat down on the edge of his bed, his fingers weaving through his mess of hair, pondering whether or not to come over to your apartment below his.

but if only, he thought, you knew he could feel your emotions. maybe the constant worry of letting you know that would put him at ease.

thoughts like this would always pass his mind every so often. though what always drew him back was that if he let you knew, he wouldn't want to withstand the pain and neglect of you not wanting anything this serious. even if you've already been through your whole life together since diapers. or if worse came to worse, the utter heartbreak he would feel of the image where you'd be broken all your life without a soulmate if he didn't come home after fighting crime.

that thoroughly tormented him the most no doubt.

he knew -- you knew -- that secrets, big secrets like this, weren't healthy for relationships. maybe keeping them were logical in this sense. but truthfully, how were both of you going to handle it this time?

maybe ignorance was bliss. although now that it involved you both and your whole lives ahead of you - now... you didn't think it was actually worth it.

"peter! i need you to try this new spaghetti recipe i made!" aunt may's voice rang through the apartment, completely catching peter off guard, his spidey senses being completely useless at that point as he slipped off the bed in a thud.

thankfully may didn't hear that.

before peter could think about his previous thoughts any further, he allowed himself to settle on the matter that you were busy with your parents, shoving the negative suspicions he kept in his mind. even if he could still feel the inkling that you weren't having a great time at all. he was going to visit you in an hour like you both had planned, anyway. he'll just have to wait.

──

snivelling, your hand finally seized your phone in annoyance, only to find out that it was mj calling. you wiped your nose and tears in an effort to somehow sound better on the phone, accepting the call shortly after you had a coughing fit.

the conversation started off fairly simple, talking about how you've both been lately since school ended. all until she asked you how your birthday was going. and being with mj taught you how to never have a filter with her - to speak the perfect truth - since she could already notice the way you felt because of her ability of being very "observant".

"like trash, mj," you began, "i'm in such a mess."

mj's eyebrows creased as she replied, "why's that? did you buy the wrong outfit? 'cause i can come over-"

you were quick to intervene, "no no." your head dropped down to look at your unclothed wrist. you confessed, "i... have a... tattoo."

"and?" she probed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. maybe sometimes you were a little dramatic, "what's so bad about that? didn't you want peter to be your soulmate?"

you bit your lip to stop yourself from the tears from falling, squeezing your eyes shut as you said, "he isn't. that's what my problem is. it says pb."

"oh whatever," she gave in, rolling her eyes even if you didn't see her. mj would always say that she thinks that you and peter were made for each other - in more aspects than one. and to think you'd say that, she didn't think she heard right.

but her dismissiveness seemed to have made you whimper. it wasn't helping since no one could convince you otherwise when the biggest, most obscure, obstacle was right on your body. instantly, when mj had heard it, she maintained in a soft voice, "come on, y/n, don't say that."

"no i can't, mj. i can't let this slide," you choked back a sob. "i genuinely thought we had our whole life planned ahead of us. there was so much more to what we had. i love him. i love him so fucking much," you stressed, attempting to hide your sniffles,

"it hurts," you continued to lament, "hurts to know that it's not him that i won't spend the rest of my life with. i want him. i've fallen too hard for peter that it slipped out of my mind totally whether or not he would be my soulmate from the very start."

a silence fell over the phone, giving you time to wipe the tears that escaped. even though it was no use since your eyes had welled up again. mj spoke up, "you sure it's not a p?"

"no mj, it's clear that it's a fucking b."

"upside down, maybe?"

"still would be pb, wouldn't it, michelle?"

"you mean qd, right?" she corrected before snorting, suppressing her laugh as she realised, "ha, what if it's peanut butter?"

you wanted to laugh, in an aim to ease the tension, but there was a tightening in your throat that forced you take in a short breath.

rather than a snarky comment, mj tried to be understanding even if she couldn't relate; that in all fairness, falling in love with someone who wasn't destined for you was really a tricky situation. you hear a sigh on the phone, "could be a misunderstanding, girl. peter's not turned 18 yet, you'll have to wait a little longer, a month to be precise, to see if your initials are on his wrist."

"what? is this a three way to you?" you deadpanned and mj couldn't help chuckling loudly at that, "and if they aren't?"

your best friend knew how much he meant to you; the love you had practically radiated from one another. although mj had a soulmate of her own, she was well aware of how strong the connection between you and peter was. she never tried to dictate your relationship; all she could do was suggest what was best for you.

"look, y/n, i love you. and if i haven't stressed that enough throughout the time that we've known each other, i'm sorry." you heard another sigh. "but i ain't kidding when i say that you can always be friends."

friends.

just... friends?

she went on, "your life doesn't revolve around a man. it never has."

"mj, i understand you. i really fucking do. but that would apply if soulmates didn't exist!" you almost shouted over the phone, again realising that it was her time that you were wasting, "no, sorry, i mean. sorry for shouting."

you lowered your tone to sound less harsher, but mj could still hear your voice edging whilst you spoke, "but i honestly wouldn't have cared this much if i never felt the fucking pain he has. the falling bricks that lands on him when he's neck on neck with some next-level bitch, his sadness over his uncle every so often, or even when everyone asks him about tony. and to add to that already, the constant stress of college overwhelming him - all of it."

you breathed a sigh of exasperation to calm yourself down.

"and you fully well know the amount of times i've screamed for no reason when peter was out at night patrolling when we studied together."

"yeah, my mom really thought we had something going on between us."

you tried not to chuckle. "it doesn't make sense," you finalised, "we may have gone through our whole childhood together, but this -- it's different. this tattoo- it- it makes no sense and it's affecting me so much. the reason why i'm not balling my eyes out and screaming right now is because peter somehow feels happy at the moment."

"so, why are you worrying?" she countered.

you smacked your head. the sound was that harsh that even michelle had heard it over the phone, "ouch, that must've hurt." but she dismissed the comment as quick as she muttered it, "you know he's happy because it's your birthday."

that had completely slipped your mind. on its own accord, your bottom lip trembled, voice coming out as a whisper, "yeah. but he's always happy on my birthday."

"maybe you just know him because you've always been together?" she suggested to you, "sometimes that just happens, right?"

but by that point, mj didn't fully take on board the situation. all of it being very confusing, just like how you were. and she decided that you had better go to him to sort things out instead of you mulling it over and doing absolutely nothing.

"yeah, you're right," you exhale, the tears no longer flowing down your cheeks as you took into consideration her advice ─ you were going to tell him that you couldn't see each other any more like this.

because, really, peter didn't deserve an unfair relationship with you - you'd rather have it end now to get over him. besides, it was selfish of you to keep him to yourself - leading him on like this. wasn't it best to let the people who were most dearest to you go anyway?

──

as you stood there in front of the door of the parker apartment, pensive, you already knew that you weren't ready for this. sweaty palms, jittery nerves, a blurred subconscious - you had it all. moreover, you had been so consumed in your own bubble that you had forgotten to wear shoes.

fingers tangling with each other, you became familiar with the feeling of instant regret surfacing and bubbling your insides. many passersby gave you weird looks as to why you just stood there.

no. you simply weren't going to tell him yet. not today. save it for another day, right? that way you don't have to cry in front of peter and his aunt-

"fuck it," you muttered under your breath, but before you wrapped your hand to knock on the door, someone had opened it - revealing a smiley peter. in a heartbeat, taking in your red eyes, his smile dropped. and all of a sudden your heart felt heavier than it did before; the emotions locked up and weighing you down massively.

were you really going to go through with this?

he opened the door fully, gesturing for you to come inside and you hesitantly stepped in, the whiff of freshly-made tomato sauce enveloping your senses. it smelt heavenly.

"are you okay, y/n?" peter spoke up, stepping just a little closer and coming to a stop as he noticed your red eyes, "why've you been crying?"

in hopelessness, you looked down at your socks, the same pair you had borrowed from peter in fact, and back at his face - worry etched clearly in his expression. the air of despondency made peter uncomfortable and your silence told him he wasn't going to like where this was going.

eventually, you realised if you didn't speak, the void of sound would have laid bare any conversation, and you didn't really come for that. so, you answered, "i- have to apologise."

his eyebrows raised and he thought the worst was to come, but his whole heart and mind trusted you; you couldn't hurt him. but you did with the next few words,

"we can't, pete," your eyes bore into his soft, brown ones , "i can't see you like this, anymore," and peter could hear your heart accelerating at such an alarming rate; generally meaning that you were scared of something.

he questioned, "what do you mean? have i done anyth-?"

"-no," you interrupted him, the words coming out more strangled as you said them, "we have to break up."

"wait. hold up. on your birthday? you're breaking up with me right now? don't i deserve an explanation at least?"

"i-," you paused, asking yourself, did you? no, in reality, you didn't. but your mouth never really cooperated with your brain as you went with, "i don't think a relationship is right for us right now, because you've been so busy with patrol, and- and-"

"-i've always made time for you," his voice broke, "this doesn't add up."

the way you sounded quite stupid didn't please you the slightest bit as you replied, cursing yourself for using the high school musical reference, "we just have to go our own way now, pete. i'm tired of these games."

you toyed with your sleeves as you let the painful words out, utterly lost in your emotion, when immediately, (you were glad the door was shut) you heard aunt may screaming,

"peter benjamin parker!" the woman's cry startled you, "get up here right now!your room is in an absolute tip."

at the same time, the back of your mind thought about the use of his middle name. although, you figured it was the best time to leave, blinking your eyes harshly to stop the threatening tears from spilling - it could possibly be the last time you stepped in here.

peter ignored his aunt, as much as he knew it was wrong to, but his eyes never moved away from your face - glazing over with tears whilst he got to take in what he could. were you actually leaving?

you finally forced yourself to look away from him. even as you sniffled to turn away to the door, peter watched you go, not believing that this was happening.

still his hand reached out to grasp your left hand, savouring the possibly final touch of your skin with his.

but what you failed to remember was about the ink decorated on your wrist. now, your sleeve of your jumper had ridden up because he clutched your hand tightly, not letting go, and peter looked down to appreciate how your hand fit with his so perfectly.

and then he saw it.

your line of vision was directed towards the picture hung up near the door frame, completely clueless on what peter was seeing. a picture of you and him at the homecoming dance (taken by ned) displaying the first kiss of many shared between you two on the canvas.

you felt peter let go of you. but you didn't expect him to ask you,

"do you believe in soulmates?"

anxious, your head whipped around to look at him narrow-eyed, "no," you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn't notice. but peter didn't assess your face as he was more bothered about your response.

he knew well that it was his initials on your wrist. yeah, it might not have been pp but benjamin was also his middle name. all in all, it finally was clear to him why he could feel what you felt.

"oh, well," peter choked, becoming glassy eyed ─ not wanting to proceed by saying the upcoming words. yet he couldn't live with the fact that if you didn't know he was, indeed, your soulmate, he probably would never forgive himself if you let go out of his grasp. even though you probably were going to, he wanted to let you know at least.

but who was he kidding? he needed you for crying out loud. with that, he continued, "that's a shame because i'm it." at long last he confessed,

"i'm your soulmate."

your face washed blank with confusion, like the cogs in your brain couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information from what peter had just informed you with.

"peter b-!"

every muscle of your body just froze, trying to process his words still, as aunt may descended from the stairs, arriving on the landing in frustration. even then, you could tell she was still seething. but due to the fact she saw you in the doorway, at once she regained her composure.

and it clicked.

how on earth could you have forgotten peter's middle name?

may gave you both a tight-lipped smile, already wishing that she wasn't there to invade your privacy. it was evident with the quietness between you two. and the distress on peter's face showed how important the discussion you were having was.

"i'll go," she disclosed, before turning to peter, "and you better sort the filth in your room, young man," then, pivoted slightly to face you, "you may go into the kitchen, y/n, and grab anything you want. i have spaghetti!"

soon enough, may had gone. whilst peter dreaded your departure, you raised up the cuff of your sweater, making known the tattoo that was marked down underneath.

he gulped at the moment you edged nearer to him, and you lifted your head, a smile slowly appearing on your face at him, baring your teeth. the bliss you felt emitted easily towards peter because of the close proximity, instantly flexing the muscles in the apples of his cheeks as the corners of his mouth turned upwards.

you feel your cheeks heating up, affirming and crunching your nose up in attempt to hide your embarrassment, "you're mine."

"i'm yours," he confirmed, a grin spreading on his face, "bet you feel like a right dumb ass,"

you moaned childlishly, "fuck you, peterrr." elongating his name as your head fell into the nape of his neck.

the clear and resonant sound of his laugh reached your ears, the vibrations of his chest growing stronger against your own as you hugged him. eventually, peter calmed down, brushing his lips on your neck, then saying through a chuckle, "will do, baby. gotta wait a while."

if it was even possible, your face felt all the more warmer. meanwhile, you revelled in his embrace -- and so did he, almost afraid to release your hold again.

you murmured quietly to him, "i love you, pete. i'm so sorry 'bout what i said. you patrolling doesn't affect me at all and-"

peter's finger reaches your lips to hush you, "-and i love, i love, i love you," he cut in, already aware that what was said prior were just excuses. he didn't blame you for being forgetful about his full name; but he would come to that matter some time later.

you beamed up at him when he said that, catching his focus. and it seemed like the world fell away. like nobody but you two existed.

your nose touched his, peter's hand trailing across your arm to your wrist, wrapping it around your own. the tingle you felt now that his touch rested there gave you the best feeling you've ever had in your entire entity. he brought your hand up for both of you to admire - to see that the letters were more prominent than ever.

and upon seeing this, peter planted a deep kiss on it - making you throw your head back in laughter at the way it felt. almost ticklish, but this was a good kind - where you wanted nothing but more.

after a couple of moments, you piped up, pursing your lips up at him, "i have to apologise to mj for the shit i came out with. i really wasted her time," you said, sadly.

"oh, fuck," his head tilted backwards, thereafter complaining, "mj knows already? before me?"

"yeah?" you replied confused.

"i wanted to do a surprise, show our tattoos together the next time we meet or something," he pouted.

"awh, don't worry, pete," your hand stroked his cheek, taking in the softness of his skin. peter melted against the texture of your fingertips, enamoured by the tenderness and affection.

you pursued, "we've got forever to show to everyone that we belong to each other." and your head tilted to gaze at him in content, whispering,

"never forget that i'll be the one to hold you forever."

───✦

543 notes · View notes