#education sucks and my head is a void
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Before I Meet Your Parents... - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)
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Title: Before I Meet Your Parents…
Author: Tory / @tkwrites
Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC)
Warnings: Crying, Grief, Smut (18+ only), oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving)
Summary: As Sarah prepares to meet Quinn’s parents, she’s bombarded with new feelings and situations, as well as trying to manage her own life. A very worried Quinn helps her get to the bottom of it and does everything he can to make it better.
Word Count: 4,600
Comments: I began writing Sarah meeting Quinn’s parents and realized I was missing this crucial step. Stories like these help me process my own grief, and I hope they can be helpful for you, too, even if you’re not experiencing a big loss. Taking care of ourselves can be difficult sometimes. Please remember that self care isn’t selfish - nor is it selfish to ask for what you need.
The holidays have been…an experience, and while I was writing, I wasn’t finding the solid chunks of time I’ve had in the past. With the busiest holidays done, I was able to finish this, and hope to write a lot more with the break from work between holidays.
Thank you for your patience and support and love for Quinn and Sarah and my writing. I hope you enjoy.
Before I Meet Your Parents…
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
The week Quinn’s parents were coming into town turned into a total clusterfuck.
First, there were the Canucks standings. Quinn point blank refused to talk about their position, not wanting to jinx anything. “It’s bad enough that I have to talk to the media about it after every game. I'm not talking about it at home.”
Even without his commentary, Sarah knew enough from reading and following the league stats, to know the Canucks were headed to the finals, bringing playoff hockey to Vancouver for the first time in nine years. It was a huge deal, and if all went to plan, they were expected to clinch a spot in the bracket in the next two games.
His parents wanted to be in the arena for the historic occasion when their son led his team to the Stanley Cup finals in his first year as captain.
In addition to the will-they-won't-they stress of the finals, Lexie Demko had called and left a message for her about getting WAG jackets. Sarah had to look up what they were, and the idea of showing up as an official “WAG” to any game, let alone a playoff game, was incredibly intimidating.
She and Quinn weren’t even officially official yet. She’d been thinking of him as her boyfriend for a few weeks and had no interest in dating anyone else. Unless he was seeing someone while she was in school, she knew he wasn't seeing anyone else either, but they hadn’t formally defined anything about their relationship.
On top of all this, she was prepping for her own finals. Although they were more than three weeks away, the two tests and publication project were looming over her like an albatross. She had to get a B or better, or she would be out of her program, and back home with her education visa voided.
The prospect of the work it would take to finish her semester well, and the possibility of stepping into the world of a WAG and meeting Quinn’s parents had her discombobulated and spending long stretches of time at the aquarium with Walter, trying to wrap her mind around everything.
As she left a couple of nights before his parents were set to arrive, Rick stopped her, “I think your man is at the front desk.”
It felt like she had to suck her mind from a thick fog to even register his words. “Hu?”
“I’m pretty sure your man is up front,” he repeated, “they wouldn’t let him back. Are you okay?”
She waved off his question and walked to the front of the building. Quinn was indeed there, looking distressed.
“Is everything okay?”
“Can I give you a ride home?”
“Sure, if you want.” Didn't he have plans with one of his teammates tonight?
Anxious thoughts dripped into her mind. She knew she hadn't been very communicative lately. Was he breaking up with her?
Quinn took her hand and led her to his car.
Once tucked inside where people couldn’t overhear, he asked, “is something wrong? You haven’t come over to study the past three days, and you didn’t answer any of my texts today.”
She looked at the bag at her feet, feeling far away. “I'm sorry. My phone’s been buried in my backpack all day,” she confessed.
“I just feel like you’re…” he stopped himself, not even wanting to voice that thought. “Is it because you’re nervous to meet my parents?”
A heavy feeling took up residence in her stomach. “No,” she said slowly.
It wasn’t quite the whole truth, but also wasn’t a total lie. Logically, she wasn’t that nervous to meet them, but her emotions ran themselves into dizzy, knotted up circles whenever she thought about it. Things weren’t making sense. God, she felt so… she felt so off. There was more to this mood she was in than nerves, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.
His hand, warm and comforting, covered her knee. “Sarah, what’s going on?”
All at once, she was choking back tears.
“Can we go to your place?” she asked, very much not wanting to lose it in his jeep in the middle of Stanley Park, or in her bedroom where Eunice would jump to conclusions and tell her she ought to break up with Quinn if he was making her cry.
The way her voice shook made Quinn gulp. “Yeah, of course,” he said before starting the car and going home.
When they got there, her steps to the elevator were heavy, as if she were dragging some heavy sledge he couldn’t see.
“Sar, what’s going on?” he asked.
Shaking her head, she pursed her lips and willed the tears not to fall until they were in his house.
Just as she suspected, someone joined them once they reached the lobby level. They shared a tense, silent ride for 12 floors as Sarah mentally recited the anatomy of the stingray to keep her tears from falling in front of a stranger.
“You’re kind of scaring me,” he said gently as the door swung shut behind them.
On top of everything else, now she was letting Quinn down. Her hands fluttered up to cover her face as her tears finally broke free.
“What’s wrong?” he repeated, taking her arms and gently trying to pull her hands away from her face.
“I don’t know.”
“You…don’t know?” he repeated, a little dumbfounded.
Her hands dropped in defeat. “I don’t know,” she repeated, finding more tears falling. What was wrong with her?
Heart beating faster with worry, he took her backpack off, leaving it in the entryway before guiding her to the couch.
“Are you upset with me? Did I do something?”
“No.”
“I don’t…” he started, then stopped. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. He was really scared now. If he didn’t do anything, and she didn’t seem to be injured, he couldn’t understand what the problem would be.
“Can you hold me?”
He drew her into his arms.
After a few comforting moments - focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat - she was able to voice something. “I’m so overwhelmed.”
“With what?” he asked, running a hand up and down her back. At least they had a clear direction. He could work with that.
“With everything. With school and WAG jackets and…” oh, fuck. Of course this was what this was about. She should know by now. “And your parents,” she finished, breaking into more tears.
“Are you that scared of my parents?” he asked, pulling back trying to see her face.
He knew meeting the parents was a big, intimidating step, but she’d handled meeting Brady, and that first uncomfortable call with Luke and a very guarded Jack with so much grace, he hadn’t expected her to be nervous, let alone so upset. “I think they’ll love you. I can’t guarantee how they’ll react, but they’ve always been nice to girls they’ve met in the past.”
Her head shook slowly.
“I don’t - Sarah I don’t understand.”
To add insult to injury, she had to say it out loud.
“I’m meeting your parents,” she said, looking into his eyes before her face crumpled and she stared down at her hands, knotted in her lap, “but you won’t get to meet mine.” Her voice was a desperate kind of wailed whisper.
Shit. He should have known. Of course that would come up with something like this. His dad once told him every major occasion was tinged with grief, knowing someone was always missing from the celebration. The fact that this would be hard for her hadn’t even crossed his mind.
Letting herself be pulled into Quinn, Sarah wept into his shoulder. His hands were heavy, warm and grounding on her back.
“I’m so sorry,” he said into her hair.
He’d never seen her so distressed. Even when she’d cried the first time he’d seen her tattoo, it hadn’t been like this. Then, it was no more than a minute of soft tears hitting his shoulder. This was so much more intense. He would probably be weeping too if he was in her position.
She pulled back suddenly, her hands braced on his shoulders, “don’t you have stuff with Brock tonight?”
“I canceled it when I hadn’t heard from you,” he admitted. “I was worried something had happened.”
“Oh,” she said, body relaxing.
The impact of what he said finally hit her. “Oh, Quinn, I'm sorry.”
He shook his head, “don't be. I can have dinner with Brock any time.”
“But, weren't you helping him pick out a ring or something?”
“Sarah,” he said, grasping her shoulders, “it's fine. We're doing it tomorrow after practice.”
“I'm sorry,” she said again, shaking her head.
“You don't need to apologize. When it comes to being moral support for Brock or making sure you're okay, I'd rather be with you.”
She gave him a watery smile, hoping it conveyed how sweet she thought that was.
“I’m sorry I didn’t even think about how hard this would be for you,” he said.
Shaking her head, Sarah reached up to wipe her cheeks. Her fingers came away smudged in black. “Oh, God. Now I’m a mess.”
He laughed a little, “do you want to go wash your face? I know you don’t have your stuff, but you can use mine.”
A shaky breath rattled through her lungs. “Could I actually take a shower?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve kind of been putting things off.”
She hadn’t washed her hair in four days, and couldn’t remember if she’d showered at all that morning.
Even though she’d talked several times with her therapist about coping strategies and patterns to look for, when she couldn’t identify what she was feeling, her first instinct was still to shut down. It was so totally different to talk about it than it was to actually do it. The time it took to realize what was wrong was getting shorter, at least. That was a good thing.
“Do you want some of my stuff to change into?” he asked.
“That would be really nice.”
Her stomach gave a sudden, loud grumble.
A surprised laugh flew out of Quinns mouth.
“I’m not sure I’ve eaten today,” she confessed.
Another part of what had her feeling so terrible. It was all interconnected, no matter how much she tried to pretend it wasn’t.
Quinn’s eyes widened. How did someone forget to eat?
“What do you want?” he asked, jumping onto the problem he could physically solve.
Sarah closed her eyes and tried to think.
“Pancakes,” she said, finally, thinking about how pleasant the fluffy breakfast food would feel in her mouth.
“I can make pancakes. I don’t have any syrup though, I don’t think.”
“That’s okay. Do you have peanut butter?”
He nodded.
“Thank you, Quinn,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.
He patted her hip, “let's go then. I'll cook while you're in the shower.”
The fact that he was being so sweet and nice made tears well up in her eyes as she stood.
Leading her into the bathroom, Quinn asked if she needed anything else. When she said she didn’t, he told her he would put some clothes for her on the counter.
The prospect of washing the day off made her breathe a sigh of relief.
The big, walk-in shower was so bright, and opulent. Creamy white and blue tiles made a Moroccan style mosaic on the floor, and white subway tile was in the rest of the…it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to call it a room, that wasn't occupied with the thick glass sliding doors. There was even a tall, thin window right in the shower with a view of the northern skyline and the soft evening light winking off the harbor.
Pushing worries of wasting water or draining the heater out of her mind, Sarah allowed herself to enjoy the rare luxury of a hot shower with no roommates demanding the bathroom.
The water here got so much warmer than it did in her house. Quinn probably had his own water heater, not just access to the building boiler.
Standing under the water, she breathed the humid air and allowed the dam to break.
It was always strange, how giving something a name made it easier to feel and let run its course. Voicing what was wrong was always half the battle.
It had been a long time since she’d felt grief like this. Since it had been so triggered. Things with Quinn were so, so good. Far better than anything she could have ever dreamed up for herself, but being in a relationship still brought up new experiences, and new ways she hadn't yet missed her parents.
Thinking of Quinn made the big emotion in her chest ease. A soft swell of gratitude displacing some of the sadness. She’d never dated someone like him - someone so willing to try to understand. Someone who took her where she was and wasn’t put off by how much she missed her parents.
When Kaleo, her boyfriend in Hawaii, had confessed he didn’t understand why she brought up her dad so much, it had been a slap in the face, and made her feel so alone with someone who was supposed to be her partner. He had basically run away when her mom died, not willing to make the trip to the funeral, despite their dating for more than a year. It had been the final crack in the foundation of their relationship, and a big part of why her return to the islands lasted only three weeks before she moved back home.
Quinn was so refreshingly different - kind and compassionate, and willing to listen. The universe had been keeping track of all the sad, frustrating things in her life and finally gave her the good things she was due all poured into one person.
Though she never heard him come in, a pair of blue sweats and a yellow Michigan shirt were waiting on the bathroom counter for her.
When she walked into the kitchen, Quinn felt his eyes go wide. Now was not the time for him to get all lustful over Sarah in his clothes, but it was impossible not to. She was braiding her wet hair, and it made her breasts, so obviously out of a bra, jostle under the Michigan logo stretched over them.
Forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he asked, “did you have a good shower?”
She’d been in there a long time - nearly 45 minutes. When he dropped the clothes off, She’d been crying, so he supposed not all of that time was actually spent bathing.
She tied off the end of the braid as she walked up to him. “I did, thank you,” she said before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
His arm wound around her waist, and pulled her against him. “Good. I hope these are up to standard. The recipe had good reviews.”
“I thought you said you could make pancakes?”
“I can,” he said, gesturing to the stove where the last of them was cooking in the pan, “I just didn’t have a recipe. At home, we always make them from a mix.”
“And you didn’t have any here?”
A sheepish smile spread over his face, “pancakes are one of my guilty pleasure foods, so I try not to have it in the house.”
She giggled, and a sigh raced through his veins.
A whiff of his own soap hit him, and he remembered what he’d been thinking when he first heard her walking down the stairs.
“Hey, will you message me the kind of shampoo you like and whatever else you need? I’ll order it so you can have the stuff you like here.”
Sarah took half a step back from him, eyes wide.
Maybe he’d overstepped. “Not that you can’t use mine. You’ve just showered here a few times and it seems kind of silly to not have the things you like.”
Also, he was tired of her smelling like his soap. He liked her smell so much, he’d do anything to keep it around.
“Oh,” she said, feeling watched over and considered. “That would be really nice.”
They sat down at the bar counter with pancakes, peanut butter, butter, jam, and a tiny bottle of maple syrup Quinn remembered he had from a gift basket when he'd moved in.
“Thank you for this,” she said, knocking her shoulder into his.
“You're welcome.”
“It’s just been such a shit week, and you’re so…” she paused, thinking and put a peanut butter and syrup coated piece of pancake in her mouth. “You’re so good.”
He blushed and tried to deflect the praise, “so what else are you overwhelmed with? School, and something about jackets?”
A flush flew into her cheeks. “Lexie called me about WAG jackets.”
“Oh,” he said, not really sure what the big deal was.
“I’m just,” she paused, setting down her fork. “Do you want me to wear one?”
“There’s no one else I’d want to wear it.”
“But, are you ready for that?”
“Ready for what?”
“For me to be so obviously… I mean, we’re not even official yet.”
“Right.”
“But you want me to wear a wives and girlfriends jacket?”
“We’re headed that way, aren’t we? I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else.”
Even though she felt the same, a huge wave of relief swept through her. “I’m not either but, if I wear a Jacket to a playoff game -”
He winced, not liking her to talk about it like it was a foregone conclusion.
“Or any game,” she amended, “people are going to wonder. Do you know what comes up when you google NHL WAG jackets?”
He shook his head.
She went to dig her phone out of her backpack, finally seeing the ten texts from Quinn, along with a missed call from her brother.
She really needed a pair of airpods or a watch or something she could wear while her phone had to stay in her bag in the lab.
Pulling up the search, she handed her phone to him before going back to her pancakes, now deliciously infused with syrup.
“Go to the reddit listing,” she suggested.
He scrolled down and clicked on the link, already turned gray from her previous visit. The whole page was speculation about which woman belonged to which player.
“If I go with a jacket, and someone posts pictures, that’s going to throw our relationship into this, and I just want to make sure we’re…ready for that.”
“Are you ready for that? Because it’s okay if you’re not.”
She bit her lip, “I’m not sure. It makes me kind of uncomfortable. It makes it feel like I belong to you or something,” she admitted.
Quinn grimaced.
“I can see how you got there,” he said, setting the phone face down. “You don’t have to get one and as far as I’m concerned, you never do, but I think you might want to talk to Lexie about it first.”
“Why?”
“The wives and girlfriends have a kind of support group. They hang out, and they help each other a lot. Lexie had a baby in October, and I know the other partners were really helping. Organizing meals and stuff like that. From what I know, the jackets are more about being part of that club than about -” he didn’t even want to say it, “belonging to someone on the team.”
She hummed. Sarah had sat with some of the wives and girlfriends at games a few times. They were always nice and very welcoming, but she didn’t feel this kind of camaraderie.
“Lexie asked me if you wanted one, and I didn’t know, so I gave her your number. I’m sorry, I should have warned you about it.”
“I just didn’t know what it meant,” she confessed. “Or if you were, like, trying to hurry things along through Lexie somehow.”
He laughed, “no. I just didn’t want to make the decision for you. I’m sorry if it heaped more stress onto your plate.”
“It’s okay, it’s just new, you know?”
“Yeah. It took me a while to transition. If I didn’t have Tanev, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Who’s Tanev?”
“He was my defensive partner my first year. He was traded to Clagary, but he and his then fiance, Kendra, really helped me find my feet.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Emma about it.”
“Yeah? You guys talk?”
“Sometimes, we’re not besties or anything, but she checks in.”
Quinn smiled, relief filling his bones.
“Do you want me to take you home? Or would you rather stay here?” Usually, he wouldn’t have even asked but she looked so tired and comfortable, he wasn’t sure she’d want to make the trek.
Relief swept through her. She didn’t want to overstep - but the last thing she wanted was to go home. The idea of leaving to sleep in her cold, empty bed seemed like a terrible one.
“I’ll let Eunice know I won’t be home,” she said as an answer. The last time she’d slept over, Eunice had called three times in a row to break through Sarah’s do not disturb, worried she had been abducted in the middle of the night.
As they settled in bed, and she scooted herself close to him, he tried to pull in some calming breaths. It didn’t really work. He’d been half hard all night seeing her in his clothes, and now that she was scooting up against him, he slid way beyond half.
“Sorry,” he coughed.
Sarah turned over, “for what?”
Cheeks flaming, he wondered why he’d said anything at all. “I just…sorry,” he gestured down. “You in this shirt is a real turn on.”
“Really?”
She and Quinn were relatively similar sizes overall, but he was far more rectangular than she was. She felt like this shirt pulled over all of her soft bits in the most unflattering way possible, not to mention the yellow color made her look pale and washed out.
“Yeah,” he said with an earnest nod.
Sarah had been wondering all night how she could properly thank him. Now that the opportunity was here, she had to seize it. Capturing his mouth, she rolled on top of him.
His hands went to her hips as a groan fell out of his mouth.
Every time she went to pull away, he followed her, nipping her bottom lip, or stroking his tongue over the roof of her mouth; he didn’t want to let her go.
She broke away all together and sat up, so she was straddling his hips.
Quinn, who was already out of breath from the kissing, felt his chest hitch as she reached for the hem of her (his) shirt, and began pulling it up. She was even doing that arms crossed skin-the-cat kind of move. God, this was - she was a dream come true.
Watching her ease the blue M over her chest, knowing his name was on her back made him dizzy and he felt his erection press more urgently against her.
He wanted to save this vision of her stripping off his shirt into permanent, long-term memory.
“Shit, Sarah,” he moaned into her mouth when she let the fabric fall next to her and leaned down to kiss him again.
She smiled, happy to be getting the response she’d been going for. She didn’t want to have sex, but there were other ways she could thank him.
“Do you want my hands or my mouth?” she asked. Even though he hadn’t come close to going down on her, she was willing to let that rule slide for now.
“God, Mouth, please,” he practically begged.
She really was a dream. She’d never gone down on him before. He figured it wasn’t something she really enjoyed. Maybe she was just saving it for a special occasion. He wasn’t entirely certain what made this evening so special, but he’d take it.
Her lips ghosted over his chin and onto his chest as her hands pushed his pajama pants down. He lifted his hips, eager to please. She didn’t push them down all the way - just enough to let his hard cock spring free.
Taking a straight journey to where he wanted her, there was no preamble or teasing before she was wrapping her lips around him, and taking him deep.
Her mouth was hot and soft, her tongue skilled as she traced the vein on the underside, ending with a flick at the base of the sensitive head.
She pulled back and sucked on the tip like some kind of lollipop. A soft snick sounded through the room when she released the suction to start again.
His left thigh began to tremble. A few more seconds and he'd be done for.
“Oh, fuck,” he said as she took him deep again, making his eyes roll back.
This was a dream save for one thing: her hair was braided back. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into the soft tresses. He wound them in the sheets instead.
Hollowing her cheeks, she pulled back to the tip. His guttural groan had a deep sense of satisfaction curling in her belly.
Stroking her tongue over the slit, licking up his salty precome, she smiled when he swore again.
“I’m gonna come,” he warned.
A small whine left his mouth when she pulled off him, but her hand kept moving, pulling his orgasm out all the same.
When he came, she shielded herself with her other hand, managing to catch most of his release before it splattered all over her. She was too tired for another shower.
Leaving him a panting mess, she went to wash up and wipe off the splatter that snuck past her hand.
Once she was back in bed with his shirt back on, Quinn gathered her against him, “that was amazing, thank you.”
She hummed and scooted a little closer.
“What do you want?”
“A good night's sleep,” she murmured.
“You don’t want me to return the favor?” he asked, humor in his voice. One of his hands was making a slow expedition down her stomach.
"No, you can do that," she hummed.
She felt his laugh against her skin, and his fingers snuck under the waistband of his sweats.
The pleasure that swam into her veins was comforting. She felt so contented and supported, spooned up against him as he stroked her sensitive pearl. She reached back to grab his hip as the sparks became more intense.
He was an attentive student, learning the patterns and pressure she liked as if he needed to ace this test to pass the class. Even going so far as to work his knee between hers to give himself a little more room without making her uncomfortable.
“Quinn,” she whispered.
God, the way she said his name made him feel like he could do anything - hike Mt. Everest, take on the whole Eastern conference, fly to the moon. He’d do anything to hear it again.
He began to kiss her neck, switching his fingers to circle clockwise. The sudden change in pattern made her clench down and a whine escaped her throat.
“Are you close?”
“Yes. Put your fingers inside me,” her breathy whisper made his fingers tingle with power and purpose.
He obeyed.
After a few strokes, she adjusted his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed gently against her clit.
Her hips moved with him, and she let out a little moan, “just like that, Quinn.”
She began to pulse around his fingers and she felt him smile against her skin as he worked her though the orgasm.
She slept soundly that night, curled up with Quinn, awed by the once improbable and yet very real prospect she might not have to face anything totally alone again.
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
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#quinn & sarah snapshots#quinn hughes#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x oc#quinn hughes fan fic#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes smut#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#tw greif#hockey fic#hockey romance
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What don't you like about the '' i have no mouth but i must scream'' game versions of the characters? ( except ellen's story because that's understandable …)
OH HONEY LET ME TELL YOU!!!! As you said like most people I don’t like Ellen’s and it is understandable. But besides her I strongly dislike what they did with Gorrister, Benny, and especially Nimdok.
Gorrister: In the original text before AM took him he was a peace activist, a rights marcher, he was a man with intense morals that AM broke. That concept alone is just so fascinating to me. Our morals are what shapes as a human being, they affect every aspect of our daily life and AM took them and broke them and he ruined this man with a great sense of justice and turned him into just another shoulder-shrugger. Whilst what the game did to him was not that outrageous, I just don’t like him being a truck driver red-neck type. Personally I imaged Gorrister as someone very educated, well-spoken, and likely someone who may have played a role in the war which would add so many more layers to the story if that was the case.
Benny: This man was the biggest missed opportunity, and what they decided to do to him in the game just breaks my heart. In the og story and the radio adaptation there was the idea of Benny being a brilliant scientist, well respected, world renowned, he was handsome, and he was gay. AND AM TOOK ALL OF THAT FROM HIM. AM literally broke and blended this man so much that when you put his life during the war and the one after it, it’s like to different people. And then there is this opportunity, this idea that game missed out on. In the book Ted called him luckily because he’s had everything taken from him and doesn’t even know it, but like what if he does? What if he is still conscious and trapped in his head and literally unable to do anything about it. And when AM decides to turn his eyes to jello, then Damn!!! He is just stuck in this dark void where he feels this pain, hears it, but can do nothing about it. AM turned what seemed like a cool dude into a horrific animal and that’s so fascinating to me. The problem with game Benny being “a monster” before AM took them, also kind of defeats the horror of the whole twisting him into one. Like I don’t care that this terrible war person has been forced to devolve, he kind of deserves it, like what is he gonna learn about himself? What is he gonna confront? “Oh I’m such a bad person!” I’m pretty damn sure he knew that already and just didn’t care. Where’s the tragedy? What reason do I have to be entertained, horrified and sympathetic to this dude? No reason. He just sucks
Nimdok: Why the actual f*ck is he a n@zi?!?! Like I like the idea of all the survivors being from all over the world and not just American, but why in every damn piece of media are German characters always n@zis?!?! In fact, since he is one I don’t care what happens to him, I don’t care about his regrets, or the “nice” things he decides to do in the HOLOGRAPHIC WORLD. HE DESERVES TO SUFFER AND THAT IS THAT. I HATE IT. I HATE IT. AM’s hate and torturing of humanity is meant to pointless. He picked these humans cause they were either everything he desired to have and be, or by possible chance. Normal people, perhaps even good people, he twisted into this way. In the og story it was so vague what was up with Nimdok, the only clue to him being German was Ellison’s dramatic reading of the story where he puts on a accent for him. The horror is that this older man has been given a speed run on Alzheimers, which in itself is Damn scary in real life, he has this fake childlike bravery, this way to aimless believe whatever AM tells him. He doesn’t know his name! His identity is gone! No one is there to help him figure it out, cause the other survivors can’t, there is nothing he can and that’s just that. (I’m actually getting very frustrated right now, so I’ll just stop here).
So yeah. There. That’s my hot takes. Maybe someone will disagree with me, but never in my life have I seen anyone like Nimdok or really his story in the game.
#i have no mouth and i must scream#ihnmaims#am ihnmaims#ted ihnmaims#ihnmaimsloveau#alternate reality#ellen ihnmaims#harlan ellison#ihnmaims game#rant post#allied mastercomputer
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I think that it was @hopefulmisanthrope who posted something a few days ago about big problems being difficult to solve and how it's damaging to say, "Well if X would just happen then we wouldn't have problem Y anymore." It was a good post. Big problems are big problems for a reason. Austin, for a while now, has been trying to address the issue of homelessness--maybe primarily because rich people in our city are very opposed to tents being visible in public spaces...but whatever the reason, there at least has been increased funding for the past few years for housing projects. But, because for some reason we just really want one single X to solve the Y problem, the city is like, "We should spend less money on services for people who are homeless/have recently experienced homelessness and just build more temporary housing/shelters and some affordable housing! Problem solved! People will not technically be on the street. Then, obviously, their lives will immediately be better again and we won't have those pesky tents ruining our city's image!" Who needs healthcare/mental healthcare, education, career support, advocacy, etc. when you technically have a roof over your head--usually temporarily!? That will solve everything! There are 140 residents in my supportive housing building. There are four of us on the services team--two of us are part-time, and my building has the largest services team out of 8. Most buildings have two people for ~100 residents. And, if the city cuts some of our services grant funding, that may be an even more pitiful picture.
This post is already so long...and I feel like it hasn't even started...and what is the point? Me shouting into the void? Everyone knows systemic racism sucks, income inequality sucks, mental health stigma is a huge barrier, a criminal record might as well be a death knell for one's career aspirations--especially if you're Black or brown, our healthcare system sucks--especially if you live below the poverty line, and all of those issues then foster isolation and loneliness which exacerbates health and mental health challenges...but yes, let's reduce the support for services and build more temporary housing because magic bullets are a thing, right?
What I love about my job is that I get to work with my clients where they live, and I get to work with them to address ALL of those things and get to do it long-term. And, it WORKS. But, yes, it's intense and time-consuming, and often not cheap...but when I found this job I was SO EXCITED because THIS is what social work is to me, but it's not what it usually gets to be in the "real world," and if our city has anything to say about it, it's going to be less of a thing very soon.
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Thinking casually this evening about the hyper-connectivity of The Modern Internet and how it's broiling ever closer towards overt puritanical fascism because a single evangelical group (Exodus Cry) is strong-arming payment processors, and randomly remembered bathroom wall graffiti.
Always anonymous, it was an effervescent and disgusting way to shout into the void. You had "Jesus Saves" next to public contact information of queers. You had slurs and ongoing arguments that lasted until they were literally buffed out of the steel panels or painted over. Depending on the locale, the walls would be thick with the words of people long dead. Carved into the wood, granting them a fleeting immortality in a vacuum. Coated in piss, grime and shit, but still there after all this time.
Long after the words themselves had been wrote over, blacked out, buffed out, coated and pissed on. Something of those people remained. If you took the effort, if you peeled back the swastikas and Sherman Williams, something was writ that said "I was here, I existed, I was real. Remember me, please god".
And.
I don't remember the last time I saw that kind of graffiti.
I don't remember the last time I was in a truck stop and I saw "ON THIS DATE IN HISTORY, JOHN DOE SUCKED MY COCK RIGHT HERE". I don't remember the last time I saw poetry, pictures, art, stickers, arguments so trivial, insults so fucking obtuse in nature that you had to be there, man. Every time I stop for a piss or shit in public now, it's all clean. The walls are bare. They didn't just patch the gloryholes, they replaced the entire fucking wall.
The world has grown sterile and strange and persistent, an entirely liminal space with a corporate logo sign over the door when you walk inside. FFS, the doors don't even chime anymore. And used to, you could at least avoid this gross, brutalist corporatizing by escaping online. You had escape hatches into the unfiltered insanity and beauty of human nature so long as you had a modem.
Maybe the art sucked, maybe the ramblings were incoherent. Maybe it was someone just calling me a [Litany Of Slurs here] for having a different opinion. But in the filth and grime and shit and piss of the world, I was still able to feel something. I could be traumatized and laugh my head off and cry my eyes out in the course of an afternoon.
I had a choice.
We had a choice.
But gone is the bathroom graffiti. Gone is the reality of choice, and in it's place is a convincing funhouse mirror of curation. The paths towards learning new things, being exposed to new ideas and concepts and ways of life have been made clean, clean as those steel walls between the toilets. They put guard rails up so you don't accidently hurt yourself on enlightenment and damnation. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, et al.
It's not just us freaks, geeks and faggots either. That's the really depressing part. The internet has become so grossly corporatized that life saving resources, educational opportunities and more are now being blocked in schools, public libraries and sometimes by demand of the state. You can't do research, you can't find new art, new music, new ideas without a fucking VPN anymore just to access legitimate and legal resources.
And for what? To what end? So some corporate entity can have a 5% increase in earnings that quarter?
Evil isn't always some dude with a cape and a mask cackling. It's not always some elderly senator begging for us to bomb more people. Sometimes, evil is a slow poison that rips the soul out of something. Sure, what's left still walks and talks and smiles, but it's off, man. And so it will limp along until it's violently fish hooked into the Akira-like fleshmass of some corporate interest.
Denying the grime, piss and shit of human existence, denying us a chance to experience the ugly, the mundane, the horrific and the divine in equal measure is to deny us an inherent path towards understanding ourselves. Safely curated corporate spaces don't beget curiosity and questions-it holds a pillow over both of them in their cribs, applying pressure until they stop flailing. Then it tries to sell you the pillow at a discount.
It takes the multi-faceted splendor of the human experience, and shoves it in a sterile room with other similarly-minded people. It bolts the door from the outside, and by the hour begins reducing the oxygen within. It gets sold as some kind of cleanse in one of those instagram ads you see, posted by a robot with art created by AI and at no point in any part of this series of Posting Good Capitalism was a human touch ever involved.
Capitalism kills in meat space, and it's being predictably successful in online spaces as well. They're not just blocking access to DIY HRT and queer history, they're removing any evidence of it from servers. They're seizing your ability to buy drugs (if you want, as a consenting adult). God forbid if you want to look at porn (again, as a consenting adult) anywhere south of the mason-dixon line.
The net isn't just getting cleaned, it's getting made sterile through a slow series of psychological assaults on our very existence.
So before the whole shit-house goes down in flames, a few things.
You gotta keep being openly, loudly fucking weird. If we're going to be subjected to data curation from AI, your posts have to be so openly radioactive they'd make the flesh slip right off an entire advertising department. You gotta make a CEO afraid you're gonna shit on his desk and piss all over his paper work. Who cares if you get bullied or people think you're cringe. Fuck, at least you'll be you. At least you'll be authentic. At least you'll be fucking human and feel something.
And.
If worse comes to worse.
And you find these words somehow, some way, buried beneath the off-white eggshell paint, carved right into the sheetrock above that freshly-cleaned porcelain.
we were here, we existed, we were real. Remember us, please god
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I posted 7,998 times in 2022
1,355 posts created (17%)
6,643 posts reblogged (83%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@viking-raider
@captainsy-cookiemonster
@the-soot-sprite
@wolvesandhoundshowltogether
@fivequartersoftheorange
I tagged 7,048 of my posts in 2022
Only 12% of my posts had no tags
#comment reply - 1,313 posts
#ask freya - 1,139 posts
#henry cavill - 571 posts
#anon asks - 533 posts
#story reblog - 301 posts
#august walker - 279 posts
#captain syverson - 117 posts
#geralt of rivia - 117 posts
#henry cavill x reader - 95 posts
#dark academia aesthetic - 89 posts
Longest Tag: 120 characters
#modern au danny picks a fight in literally every bar while jorah is just like fuuuck okay let me finish my beer at least
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
69 works just fine
Summary: You challenge Henry about the infamous 69 Position and he is keen on showing you how very wrong you are.
Prompt:
69ing with Henry?
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (No description of body type or ethnicity)
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: 18+, RPF, oral sex, both ways oral sex, 69, need I say more? Graphic description of sex and bodily fluids, soft daddy kink, light brat/daddy dynamic.
*No permission is given for reposting, translating or copying my work.
N/A: This wasn't an easy one to write, so I hope it doesn't suck (pun intended), not beta'd. I will die on my mistakes just like August slipping off a cliff, colliding with a hook and landing into an explosion. Just for the record, it does work just fine. ;) 💖 Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 💖
69 works just fine
January mornings were the worst; the alluring heat of Henry's body turned the bed into a warm, pillowy fortress that none could escape from. Not that you ever wanted to. For all you cared, the sun could rise and set a dozen times more, lounging in bed next to that large bear of a man was a piece of heaven on earth.
11 a.m, and there you were, enveloped by the duvet with your spine pressed to the side of Henry's bare body. The large man hummed a soft melody as he flipped through the pages of his book, occasionally grazing a tender thumb over the base of your nape. Still groggy, you purred in response and flexed your shoulders like a playful kitten, your tired eyes remained glued to your phone while you thumbed through the social media’s void.
Your quiet morning was abruptly disturbed by the loud buzz of your device. A new incoming message made its way to the infamous "ladies" group chat and without giving it too much of a thought, you tapped the notification open. The soft vibration drew Henry’s attention at once. Tilting his head over his shoulder, he frowned and arched a baffled eyebrow at an overwhelmingly explicit spectacle of a woman riding a man's face while simultaneously sucking his cock.
"So that's what you girls send one another all day, ha?"
Hot blood rushed to your cheeks.
It wasn't that you were ashamed of watching porn, Henry was mature and educated enough to know women are just as mischievous as men if not more, but never in your life did you imagine getting caught by your boyfriend.
If only he knew of your Tumblr account. Then you'd surely die of humiliation.
Quickly ticking the screen shut, you pressed the phone to your chest and turned to glare at Henry. "You were not supposed to see that!" A shy grin piqued your cheeks. Embarrassed, you sought for something to say in order to sway his attention. "It's bullshit anyway."
Rather amused by your reaction, he smiled back. His sturdy hand slid from your spine to your ass and began to knead it playfully.
"What's bullshit, love? The gif?"
"69. It looks nice in porn, but it's fake. You can’t really please someone while being pleased."
Henry’s pale gaze lingered upon your face for a silent moment, scrutinising you back and forth in an odd manner that made you feel as if you were speaking nonsense. With a small huff, he averted his eyes back to the book and casually shot out, "no, it's not.”
‘What was that?’
The candid tone of his response brought a deep frown to your face. Setting the phone on the nightstand, you turned toward Henry's side and forced the book from his fingers.
"And how exactly would you know?"
"How would you know it's bullshit?" A whimsical, daring glint lit his eyes.
Playfully, you groaned and punched his chest, which merely made him chuckle before his hand snapped around your wrist and, with less than a scant effort, hauled your naked body on top of his and forced you to straddle his taut torso.
"Tsk, tsk, spitfire, behave, or daddy will have to do something about that bratty attitude."
You did your best to wring free from his rigid snare, helplessly squirming like a worm caught on a hook, though your battle short-lived as quickly you realised there was no escape from Henry’s unfathomable strength. Throughout your struggle, he hardly moved a muscle, simply eying you with still amusement sparking his gaze.
Bested by the physical superiority of this ‘giant’, you slumped into his grip, offering a sweet apologetic smirk to which Henry grinned with arrogant triumph, but something else swirled within those pale sapphires - a dark leer you learned to recognise over the last couple of years.
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1,582 notes - Posted January 21, 2022
#4
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1,869 notes - Posted November 4, 2022
#3
My love, I feel as if you are the only one that can help me with this!
I dream of lying-in bed with Henry, snuggled on top of him, whilst gently stroking those gray hairs and telling him how absolutely fucking dashing he looks.
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader
Warning: rpf, pure fluff. Pregnancy. Not beta’d. Short drabble.
Vibrant rays of orange and pink penetrate the bedroom as the lazy sun slowly wakes from its slumber.
You both lie naked in bed, your cheek pressed to Henry’s bare torso, listening to his heartbeat and enjoying the heat that radiates from his skin and cascades around you like a sun-shower.
He is still asleep as you lift your head to ogle him, or at least pretends to - you have your suspicions as his fingers gently rub down your spine. So you smile and begin mapping his face against your fingertips, memorising every freckle and every wrinkle.
Eyes still shut, he smirks, a groggy hum emerges between his lips.
You smile back though continue your inspection, your eyes catching the sight of new grey hair that grew along his sideburns.
“Old man,” you tease.
Henry scoffs at your remark, his eyes finally blinking open. “Old? Me? I am not the one who fell asleep at 11pm last night…”
You playfully hit his chest, though even with a light hit the blow makes you winch. He is the man of steel, after all.
“I have a good reason to be tired!” You point to the growing bump in your belly and almost instantly, he grins and places his palm against it.
“My baby, with my girl,” he breathes and then returns his gaze to yours, staring at you lovingly, “is it really that bad?”
A bemused frown forms in your brow, “having your baby? The worst.”
“No, silly, the grey hair. Do you think I should dye it?”
Your face immediately soften and you weave your fingers through his luscious curls once more. “No, my love, don’t dare hide those. I love that we are changing and ageing together.”
Henry draws a relaxed sighed and presses his head back into his he pillow. You rest your head back to where it belongs, listening to his heart again while anticipating all the great years and adventures that awaits you together.
1,880 notes - Posted March 1, 2022
#2
Buns in the Oven
Summary: Sy has hidden clingy tendencies and he is very much afraid to admit it until one night has one drink too many and all his secrets are exposed.
Pairing: Syverson x Reader (no description of body type or ethnicity)
Words: 773
Warning: Mostly pure fluff, mentions of drinking and being drunk, a bit of suggestive talk but nothing explicit.
A/N: dedicated to @sillyrabbit81 who an incident with a typo gave me a specific plot bunny (harhar!)! Not beta'd.
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2,025 notes - Posted April 4, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Henry Cavill: Some news to share from The Continent…
My journey as Geralt of Rivia has been filled with both monsters and adventures, and alas, I will be laying down my medallion and my swords for Season 4. In my stead, the fantastic Mr Liam Hemsworth will be taking up the mantle of the White Wolf. As with the greatest of literary characters, I pass the torch with reverence for the time spent embodying Geralt and enthusiasm to see Liam's take on this most fascinating and nuanced of men.
Liam, good sir, this character has such a wonderful depth to him, enjoy diving in and seeing what you can find.
2,241 notes - Posted October 29, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Not to make this blog a confessional but as a general people are garbage and it stuck out to me quite a bit about what you said about people being abusive because of the version of you they have in their head and that happens to me a lot as am androgynous small individual people are quick to make up their minds. It's made me quick to want to throw hands. Let them be foolish and embarrass themselves. That woman sounds like a bully and like she just wants an excuse to be nasty cause her life suck
I put your additional comment here too:
thank you so much anon. Also it didn't occur to me really until your message but you mentioning being androgynous and it just crossed my mind that she may have just had it out for me because I'm an openly queer man and my roommate is trans which was something she was weird about too.
Early on into our "friendship" she mentioned about how me and my roommate probably didn't have any people from her generation in our lives and when I was trying to explain about how much of a loss it was to the queer community when so many who would have been elders now were taken from us too soon because of the aids crisis and of how a lot of poorer or disabled people don't live as long as their peers which has created a void where there's fewer and further people like me left in older generations she just didn't seem to want to understand and insisted that she knew better than me because she was older than me. Which idk. With hindsight it feels really insensitive of her. Because I have often firsthand experience that not everyone gets to make it to be her age. I've had friends die from unnatural causes as young adults I've had family die of medical neglect or malpractice and my beloved best friend in the whole wide world died of incurable cancer. I know full well the void that premature death leaves and I consider myself at least somewhat educated about what the aids crisis meant for the LGBTQ community. She pointed out that I "tried to know everything" and that I reminded her of her adult son so idk maybe she's just mad she doesn't get to be smarter than me even though I'm disabled. *shrug* some people really like having power over others it's gross.
My attempts in social settings "to know everything" is a survival instinct from child abuse too so it's very difficult for me to shut off.
Idk. I'm really sad right now for reasons not relating to her so I'm getting sentimental about that topic again.
I really try to be comfortable with and proud of myself but it gets hard sometimes you know? I have a TON of internalized self hatred and one of the big things is that I don't want to be an abuser like my father and I know from experience just how frequent demonization of "scary" mental illnesses is so her insisting that I killed those birds just even though it isn't true it's a reminder that people are going to think that I'm a monster and a killer because of my stupid sick brain. Regardless of how I can't fix it. Regardless of how I implement self control and make the effort to do the right thing.
The more I think about this and talk about it with people the more it's becoming clear to me that she's in the wrong and has some sort of attitude problem. I try not to think of her as "a crotchety old bitch" because I know for a fact my beloved grandparents weren't like that (so in my mind there's no excuse and I shouldn't assume an old person will be like that by default) but it really does seem like she's living up to that stereotype. I'm just shocked she kept up a nice persona so well but then again people can be good at that and I'm especially vulnerable to that kind of social power play.
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in which harry is the right person at the wrong time.
a/n: hi lovelies! here is my christmas fic for @goldenbluesuit ‘s xmas challenge! i chose the song ‘baby, it’s cold outside’ and it’s my FAVORITE xmas song, so i’ve included bits and pieces of the song throughout the story! hope you all like it, and happy holidays! pls rb and send feedback bc they’re very helpful :)
WORD COUNT: 9.6k of ex lovers to lovers, teacher!harry x lawstudent!yn filled with slight angst, missing someone dearly, and fluff
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption
COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE’ i’d love to know your thoughts!
pls rb to share! <3
17 December 2020
A chilly and snowy night was upon you as you took a shot of hard liquor. The face of disgust appeared on your face as the liquid slowly went down your throat after you hammered the shot of tequila.
Normally, you wouldn’t pregame when you were going to your friend, Addie’s, house where you would drink some more, but you needed to shake off your nerves that you felt at the moment. You took a deep breath after taking your second shot and you had physically felt yourself starting to relax.
Rolling your head to stretch your neck out, you decided it was time to leave since it was nearing seven in the evening. You called yourself an Uber because of the alcohol in your system and you were planning to sleep over Addie’s place since she said she would bring you back in the morning before you had to go to work.
You waited for your Uber by the front door while you looked in the mirror, putting your black beanie onto your head. You were bundled up in a black university sweater, a camel color coat over, along with tan lounge pants and a pair of black boots. Once you got a notification that your Uber driver, Jason, was in front of your house, you grabbed your overnight bag and headed out the door.
You placed the hood of your sweater over your beanie so you got more warmth since it was quite cold. You were never one for the cold weather, which is unfortunate since you lived in London. You cherished the days where it was sunny and warm; the sun bright and warm as you laid on the grass in complete content.
You missed those days. You missed the days where you didn’t worry about a singular thing.
Looking out the window, on your way to your destination, you watched the snow slightly fall, hitting and building up on the ground while the pedestrians walked through the streets, bundled up in thick layers of clothing. Some people were with others, walking hand in hand or hugging each other through the cold. Even though it was freezing cold outside, there were smiles on their faces because the hold of one another was enough. They could get through the worst snowfall, but if they were in each other’s arms, it wouldn't matter; they could get through anything.
The cold had reminded you that you were missing a pair of strong arms that should’ve been around you through this season, but you were completely frozen—left out in the cold to warm yourself up.
You sighed and the car stopped in front of Addie’s place. You thanked your driver, wishing him a ‘Happy Holidays’ before you got out and buzzed your best friend’s apartment onto the buzzer system; hearing one back, you entered the complex while brushing your shoes onto the floor mat, so you wouldn’t slip while going up the stairs.
You were grateful the building was warm, and you’re sure Addie would crank up the heat for you since you would always complain how ‘bloody cold’ it is all the time.
Once you opened the door, you were met with your entire friend group who were all lounging around in the living area. They all faced the door once you walked in, seeing who the last friend to arrive. Greetings were sent towards you, Addie and Nic got up from their spots on the couch that they’re going to lose because behind them, Elijah and Niall were getting up from their spots on the floor to steal it.
“Hey! There you are! We were all waiting for you,” Addie said, giving you a hug.
Nic went in for a hug before she pulled back and looked at you suspiciously. You looked at her confusingly, wondering why she was looking at you the way she was before she said, “Did you party before you came here?” You furrowed your brows until you remembered that she probably smelt the alcohol that you took before you left.
“Oh, uh, just took a couple of shots before I came here.” The two girls understood quite well, thankfully.
“No worries! Come join,” Addie welcomed you in. The two went back to the living area, only to see that their spots were taken, so they grabbed the two boys’ arms, yanking them out of their seats. You chuckled as you walked to Addie’s room to put all of your belongings.
Once you did that, you exited her room the same time the bathroom door opened across her room. The person in front of you was the reason why you were so anxious before you left; why you needed to relax for a bit and mentally prepare yourself before going to Addie’s place.
The person in front of you was Harry Styles.
The person who had your heart.
The person you were deeply in love with still.
The person who was your ex boyfriend.
“Hi,” he said surprisingly, smiling a bit.
“Hi, Harry,” you replied, inching towards him as he met you halfway. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you did the same around his waist, resting your cheek onto his chest. The hug was warm and comforting, like it always was, and you looked forward to these kinds of hugs every time you saw him. But your heart ached every single time.
Pulling away, you gave him a small smile before you two walked out of the hallway and to where your friends were. There was laughter between the two girls and guys as Niall was telling them a joke. Nic was the one who saw you and Harry first, and her laughter died down. She looked at you concerningly, giving you those eyes as if they were asking if you were okay, and you nodded your head to reassure her. You and Harry join the group; you sat on the loveseat on one side of the rectangle wooden table, while Harry sat on the floor on the other side.
You tried joining in on the conversation and laughter, but you couldn’t help but take sneaky glances back to Harry, only to find him getting glances at you as well.
It was hard to focus on anything your friends were saying when Harry was in the same room, but you realized it was also difficult when he wasn’t in the same room because then you were wondering where he was.
It wasn’t easy being friends with Harry after the breakup, good friends, especially; and it pained you to actually act normal around him when all you wanted to do was scream, cry, and have him comfort you. But you did your very best to maintain a cool, calm, and collected mood whenever you’re around him, although inside, your heart was racing and everything you said seemed incoherent.
You tried your best to avoid him after you two split, and he did as well, but being part of the same friend group just didn’t go well with your wishes. You two had to suck it up and be normal around each other.
Being with Harry was possibly the best eight months of your life. To some, it’s not the longest amount of time, but he was one of a kind; you couldn’t find anyone out there like him--not like you were looking anyways. It genuinely felt like you’ve been together for years, and when you two were celebrating your six month anniversary, your friends had questioned you saying ‘It’s only been six months?!’
Your relationship with Harry was all things blissful. It was pure happiness and love, and you wouldn’t want it with anyone else. You two rarely got into fights, and if you did, it was most likely a petty and annoyed argument that would have you two back in each other’s arms only twenty minutes after. He was your fresh breath of air that made you laugh and orgasm…multiple times.
It was all smiles and laughs until it wasn’t.
You two had gotten together the second semester of senior year. Meeting at the library because you couldn’t reach a book, it didn’t take long for you both to get together. You had known him for two weeks until he asked you out on a date where he kissed you for the first time. The dates and kisses continued on for six months until you mutually decided to call it quits.
It wasn’t an easy decision, but considering that Harry was going to a different school that was in a different country for his master’s degree in education for the fall semester, and you were also in the midst of your career; interning at a law firm didn’t quite clear up your schedule, only making you busier by the hour. There was barely any time for the two of you to spend time with each other with how busy and hectic your lives were, so there would most likely be no calls coming in or distant texts that were sent out to make it seem like the void had disappeared.
Like two mature adults, you and Harry called it quits after the summer. He moved away to get his master’s and you kept yourself busy at the law firm. It wasn’t easy--still isn’t easy, but it was for the best. The both of you needed to focus on your careers and yourself before you two were ready enough to get back together. That’s if Harry wanted to get back together anyways.
Of course you wanted to get back together with him, but you didn’t know where he stood on that, or if he was even seeing someone. Throughout the two years that he was away, you only saw him during summer and winter breaks, so he could possibly be seeing someone whenever he goes back to school. But now that he had moved back again, your mind was spiraling because now you got to see him more.
Finally, you broke out of your trance, once again thinking about Harry, you saw him looking at you. The both of you completely tuned out to the conversation and laughter coming from your friends. You held your wine glass up, Harry doing the same while smirking before you both sipped your drinks, hoping the sweet wine would relax your bodies.
Nic was picking out a small paper out of the Santa hat Addie was holding. She took a quick peek at it before, smirking to herself before Addie moved over to you for your turn. As you chose your Secret Santa, you hoped it was a good one. It’s not like you didn’t love your friends, some of them were picky, and by some, you mean Nic.
You looked at the piece of paper, smiling before shoving it into your pocket. Addie moved onto Harry who was the last one to choose, and you watched him as he looked at the paper like it was a poker hand. He raised his brows, smirking before he looked up and started to fold the paper. Your eyes looked down at his polished hands, noticing that he still wears the same rings as he did when you first met him. Your favorites were his initial, thinking how incredibly sexy and alluring they looked on him as he walked around confidently. You’ve stolen them multiple times as well, even if they were too big on you, but the thought of walking around with Harry’s name on you just seemed so enticing.
Niall’s laughter brought you out of your sensual thoughts about Harry’s hands and you realized you were caught staring, and Harry knew exactly what you were looking at with the amount of times he’s caught you staring and fantasizing about his hands. Plus, you openly told him that you had a thing for his hands.
A smug smile was seen from Harry, so you took your attention away from him and towards your friends.
“So, what do we say? $50 limit?” Nic suggested, and Elijah rolled his eyes.
“Why are you trying to make me broke? You know I have a huge family, like, 15 cousins!” Elijah debates.
Nic gasped dramatically. “I’m offended you don’t consider us family, Eli!” Elijah playfully rolls his eyes again, turning his head to the side as he smiled into his shoulder, blushing a bit.
You chuckled at their playful banter. You’re a bit surprised they hadn’t gotten together yet because ever since you met them, you could practically feel the tension between them. They were just too stubborn to admit that they liked each other.
“Okay, how about we make it maximum $30?” Harry pitched in. Your eyes had immediately averted to him, and it was like he captured you just by the sound of his voice. “We have exactly six days to get our gifts,” he added. Your friend group has always been one for procrastinating. Everyone is so busy these days that it gets harder to plan hangouts where the entire group could go, but you were all family, so if the gatherings were at three in the morning, everyone would be there.
The group agreed, telling him that was a solid number. You caught Harry’s eye and he softly smiled at you. Giving him one back, you suddenly felt nervous as he smiled, so you chugged the rest of your wine and walked to the kitchen to open a new bottle to bring to the living area.
The bottle made a loud pop sound, which earned an in sync ‘Woo!’ from the group as it was a tradition you all created whenever a new bottle of wine was being opened. Smiling to yourself, you poured yourself a glass before downing it. As you were doing so, Harry walked into the kitchen with his own glass in his hand.
“Hogging all the wine, aren’t you, Y/N?” He teased to clear the awkward and anxious tension between you two, and luckily, you stifled out a giggle.
“You know me and my wine.” You refilled his empty glass while taking a sip of yours. Once you fill it halfway, he clinked your glasses together before taking a sip. His lips meeting the sweet but bitter taste of red wine that you so wished was your lips. The way he curled his lips into his mouth and licking his lips, tasting the flavor had you daydreaming such sultry things about his lips.
You cleared your throat, breaking yourself out of your gaze. “How are you, H? How’s work?”
Harry’s cheeks warmed up at the simple nickname. “I’m doing good, yeah. Work is good. The school is great.” This was Harry’s first semester teaching, and he absolutely loved it. He loved being in the classroom setting, interacting and making sure his students understood the material. He wanted to teach elementary kids, but that would require knowing various subjects when he wanted to focus more on ninth grade English.
“I’m happy for you,” you confessed. You were happy for him, but you wanted to be happy with him. “I know you’re a great teacher, and your students must love you.” You bumped him with your hip gently.
“They’re great. A couple of them have this weird crush on me for some reason.”
“I mean how could they not.” You realized you said that out loud, and you’re fully blaming the alcohol and the few glasses of wine that you already had, leaving you with a rosy cheek tint glow. Harry didn’t say anything but smug as he continued to sip on his drink. You slipped past him to join your friends, and Harry followed. Addie gave you a knowing look, hoping to communicate with just her eyes as she saw you and Harry walk out of the kitchen together, and you simply nodded, gesturing that you were okay.
The rest of the night went by quite fun as the boys helped Addie hang up the rest of her decorations while scoffing and rolling her eyes because they weren’t cooperating. You and Nic were sitting on the floor watching and laughed, pouring yourselves more glasses of wine. Your heart skipped a few beats as you watched Harry the entire time, laughing and smiling, and sometimes looking over at you just to get a simple glance at your face to suffice his heart from the heartache of not being able to hold or kiss you.
You’ve always liked shopping alone. Shopping with Nic and Addie could be stressful, no matter how much you loved them. You would only go to the shoppes with them if you weren’t looking for anything to buy, but since you were Christmas shopping and the stores were getting busier counting down to Christmas day, you had passed on their invitation to shop with them. There was nobody bugging or nagging you, causing you to get distracted; just you, a basketful of snacks, and Christmas music playing through your headphones.
You couldn’t wait to give your Secret Santa gift because you’ve put a lot of thought into it ever since you found out who your receiver was. You’ve been doing Secret Santa with your friends since the third year of college. At first, your friends group was only you, Nic, Addie, and Niall—you’ve known Niall since you were sixteen, and you met the girls your first year of uni—until Nic met Elijah during the second semester of junior year, who was quickly accepted, and then you met Harry.
You’ve all become a close knit of friends, and each and every single one of you have met other people, but there was nothing like this group. With bonding and connecting so well, all you needed was each other, and you couldn’t be more grateful.
As you were looking at the collection of whiskey, you felt a body brush passed you, slightly bumping into you as they tried getting through the narrow aisle. You jolted forward a tad bit, making you take a step forward to let the person behind you pass through.
“So sorry,” the familiar voice said. The music playing through your headphones was not even halfway up since you still wanted to be aware of your surroundings, but you could recognize that voice anywhere.
Turning around to look at the person behind you, sure enough, it was the one and only.
“Harry?” You called out, taking out your headphones. He turned around, and once he saw you, he immediately smiled.
“H-Hi. I didn’t expect to see you,” he nervously blurted out a false statement. He knew that this was your go to store and you would always drag him there because they always had your favorite snacks in stock.
You chuckled. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you here either.” Unlike his statement, yours was true. When you were with him, he would always ask you why you couldn’t stop at any of the other shops because this one was on the other side of where you lived. But you simply told him that it was because you would feel like you would be cheating on this store with the others because this was your go-to place, and the employees here were just lovely.
“Shopping for yourself?” Harry asked.
You looked down at your basket. “Oh, no. For my Secret Santa. What about you? What are you doing here?”
“I, uh, I was on this side of town and,” he turned around to face the wine section before grabbing a bottle of Pinot Noir. “Just needed to get this,” he said as he held it up.
“Night in?”
“Hmm, yeah,” he nodded.
“With…someone, or?” You tried your best to not show your anxiousness when you asked him if he was having a night in with someone that’s not you.
Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, no. Not with anyone…” Your shoulders relaxed and a small smile appeared on your face. You slightly nodded your head, containing your relief. “You look great!” He complimented. You were wearing your work attire; a black pencil skirt with a white silk, semi turtleneck long sleeve, and a black coat thrown over. You were also in nude heels, which weren’t the best to shop in, but you had forgotten to bring a change of shoes.
You blushed. “Thank you. I came here straight from work.” Harry’s brows raised. You were always one for a sense of style, so he wasn’t surprised that you would look this good going to work.
“Really? How is work going, by the way?”
“Good, actually. I’m still interning at the law firm, so I’m pretty busy. But overall it’s great! A lot of research, mock cases, and sometimes the interns get to sit and watch in the courtroom. It’s pretty thrilling,” you said excitedly. Harry smiled, missing how you would explain things so eagerly. “This is my last year interning, so hopefully I could work at the law firm I’m already interning at, and become a permanent lawyer there.”
“I’m sure they’d love to have you there. You’re great, really. They’d be stupid to let you go…” he trailed off. There was a double meaning to his words, and you were wondering if Harry thought he was dumb enough to let you go. Not wanting to dwell on his words any longer, you murmured a soft ‘Thanks’ to him and smiled. Harry nodded, mentally beating himself up over his words and how he was really the stupid one to let you go.
“I, uh, should go, or my sister will be suspicious,” you chuckled. “I hope you have a great night, Harry.” You grabbed a bottle of whiskey before walking passed him. You weren’t even done shopping, but you couldn’t be in the same room as him without thinking of the memories that had always lingered, making you nostalgic and sad because you don’t know if you would be able to make more memories with him.
Harry was left alone in the aisle as he watched you walk over to the register to pay for your items. Just when you were done, you looked up, giving him a soft smile and waving at him before you turned around and walked out of the store. Harry’s heart fluttered, but at the same time, it was pounding through his chest. He mentally cursed himself for being so nervous around you, making an awkward tension fill the air. He couldn’t tell you what you were really doing at your store--no, he couldn’t.
Because what would you say if he told you that he’s been going to your store ever since you two broke up and whenever he’s in town just because it reminded him of you. The four walls somewhat mended his broken heart as he felt comfort inside of the shop because some of his best memories of you are in this very store. And since he couldn’t step into your apartment to immediately feel at home, your favorite store would have to do…for now.
Right when you entered Addie’s home, you were met with the loud music of the holiday season, along with Addie, Nic, and Elijah singing the lyrics to one another as they jumped and danced with a glass of their preferred alcohol in their hand.
They hadn’t heard the door open since the music was quite loud, so you took the opportunity to take a quick video of them as you smiled at your lovely friends, who felt so careless at the moment. Once the song ended, you put your phone away, and Eli was the one who spotted you first.
“Ah, there she is!” He walked over to you, giving you a big hug. You giggled as he slightly picked you up from the ground and twirling you. You were sure that he was already buzzed, and you were wondering how many glasses he’s had already, or if he pregamed by himself to calm himself down for talking to Nic, just like you had done to prepare you for a night with Harry, which you hadn’t done tonight.
There was a part of you that wanted to take a shot or two to ease your nerves, but you realized that you needed to stop doing that because as far as you know, you and Harry are most likely going to be friends for a long time. So, drinking almost every week did not sound fun to you.
Nic poured you a glass of wine, clinking your glasses together as you took your first sip of alcohol that night. You helped Addie set up the food onto the table along with some Christmas designed plates and utensils. Just as you were counting the utensils, you heard a loud Santa laugh coming from Niall, making everyone turn their heads towards the door. Niall walked in, carrying a bag-full of presents and Harry followed with a three foil wrapped aluminum trays in his hands as he chuckled at Niall’s way of making himself known. Your face immediately heated up at the sight of your ex-boyfriend because he looked good.
Although you loved every version of Harry, there was something about Harry Styles in the snowy winter that made your knees weak. He was bundled up in a sweater with a coat tossed over, and he wore boots. His hair was slightly messy from the wind as he shook off the snow that had fallen onto his locks. His nose was always red too, and when he would press a kiss to your cheek, you would feel the icy cold tip of his nose, contrasting to your warm cheeks. And it’s a tragedy that you’ve never spent a winter season with him when you were together, only two Christmases after the breakup.
Winter Harry was your favorite, and all you wanted to do was snuggle up with him.
Niall and Harry made their rounds to greet everyone, and Harry would always make sure you were the last one he greeted, just so he could hold and hug you a little longer.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve,” you said once he got to you. He smiled and chuckled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You laid your head against his chest, taking in his scent and natural warmth, even though he just came from the cold. “What’d you bring?” You asked once you pulled away.
“I brought the cheesy garlic bread, brussel sprouts, and crab cakes,” he smiled.
You gasped. “Your specialty. My mouth is already watering.”’ You clapped your hands in excitement.
Harry giggled, leaning against the kitchen countertop. “Sure is, and it’s some of your favorite dishes of mine too,” he remembered. You blushed, heart fluttering as he didn’t forget your favorite foods.
Harry was always a chef of his own; he loved cooking. Learning from Anne, he made it his mission to make his own homemade food after he moved out, and she would always tell him that you could always show your love through food. From there, he learned more about cooking and seemed to love everything about it. Whenever the group has gatherings for special occasions and everyone agrees for a potluck, Harry always made sure to talk to everyone and see what they wanted him to cook.
When you two were together, he did the majority of the cooking. There would be times when you wanted to help, but he would simply tell you that you needed to let him do it and relax. That was something you loved about him—he was always a giver and didn’t expect to receive anything back, in more than one way.
You and Harry were definitely ones for staying in, and he would always whip up the best food that was filled with so much love and flavor.
“Once you two are done loving over there, we’d like some help over here!” Niall called out from the dining area. Your eyes widened as Harry’s cheeks turned pink. Harry held his arm out, gesturing you to go first, and you walked out of the kitchen as he followed behind you.
The group’s attention and eyes were on you and Harry, and your brows furrowed as you mouthed a ‘What?’ at them, and they instantly went back to setting up the food as if nothing happened. You turned around to look at Harry confusingly and he shrugged his shoulders, just as confused.
The music was playing, the decorations were lit up, and the food was settling into everyone’s stomach, followed by drinks as a warm feeling laid over everyone. It was overall a great time with them as it always was, and since Christmas was coming up in just two days, the merry feeling was always everyone’s moods.
As everyone was laughing and having a great time, Addie had gotten a knock from her neighbor, asking if everyone could keep the volume down. Everyone was holding in their laugh because you all hadn’t realized how loud you’ve gotten.
“I’m pretty sure they knew it was going to be a long night when it was just the three of them dancing and screaming,” you pointed out to Addie, Nic, and Elijah, and they all laughed, agreeing.
“Wait, what?” Niall asked confusingly.
“Right when I walked in, they were screaming at the top of their lungs. Wait, I have a video.” You pulled your phone out of the front pocket of your sweater and showed Niall the twenty second video.
He cackled. “Hey, thanks for waiting for us,” he teased, giving your phone back to you.
You leaned back onto Harry’s leg, since you were sitting on the floor and he was sitting on the chair behind you, and you looked up at him to show him the video. He leaned forward, placing his forearms on his thighs as you shifted closer to him so you were sitting in between his legs. Harry’s lips curled into his mouth, and he was grateful that you weren’t facing him because he was flustered. You pressed play, and he watched as he chuckled, watching his friends have a good time.
“Wait, I also wanted to show you this video,” you mentioned once the video was over. You scrolled through your pictures, and Harry was watching you go through your camera roll. He saw pictures of buildings, food, you and the girls, and some of them were just of you. Before he could really think about your own pictures, you found the video of your family dog and showed Harry.
As you and Harry were watching the video, your four other friends were eyeing you two and whispering things to each other suspiciously. Nic took a few pictures of the moment because the sight was just so cute, but everyone was wondering when you two were getting back together.
And you were wondering the same.
For a few minutes, you and Harry were in your own little world as you two talked about your family; never making the effort to change the position you were in--you had just turned your body so you could see him better. You’ve missed times like these where everything else, outside of the bubble you two created, didn’t seem to matter. The way his eyes gleamed when he talked to you had lulled you in, making you depart from every thought you were trying to create while the only thought that dawdled was Harry.
“Alright, let’s pass out our Secret Santa gifts before we’re all too drunk,” Niall suggested, popping yours and Harry’s bubble. You moved out of between Harry’s legs to sit beside him where you were before. You looked up at him, softly smiling and he gave you one back. His eyes looked like they wanted to say something, and you so badly wanted to crawl into his mind to know what he was thinking.
Everyone agreed, getting up to grab their gifts. Addie also grabbed the Santa hat that you had to wear if it was your turn to pass out your gift. The Santa hat had been through four Christamases with the group, and it was the little things that made you happy.
Addie decides to go first since she was the host. She put the Santa hat on before she started. “First one! My Secret Santa is…Elijah!” She walked over to him, giving him her gift as he smiled, thanking her. He opened her gift and gasped as it was a new headset for his PlayStation since he was always talking about how one side was completely dead. Addie placed the hat onto his head as he grabbed his gift.
“So, this one is for…” he smiled before walking over to the other end of the couch. “Nic.” Her eyes widened, taking the gift from his hands, and he took a seat next to her on the floor. She ripped open the wrapping paper before she paused, looking back at him. It was a large rectangle frame of pictures of her and Eli with a note in the middle saying ‘4 years as best friends, countless laughs, and one question unasked. Will you go on a date with me?’ Nic squealed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. It was like he was proposing to her because she screamed out a loud yes. “Life is too damn short. I can’t wait to go another day without calling you my girl, so I wanted to take my chances,” he told her. You smiled at them, realizing it’s been too long, and you were so happy for them.
It was Nic’s turn, which she completely forgot about because she was so overjoyed, and she walked up to Harry to give him her gift. He thanked her before opening it, receiving a set of nail polish, a few face masks, a vanilla candle, and a gift card to one of his favorite restaurants.
Harry was up, and he was a bit nervous for this one. You knew that it could either be you, Niall, or Addie since you were the three left without gifts. He stood in front of the fireplace as everyone looked at him. You thought he looked absolutely adorable in that Santa hat, which you think every single year. He slowly walked over to Niall, making him beam, but turned around and walked over to you, earning a ‘Hey!’ from Niall.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve,” Harry greeted you, handing you your gift. You smiled brightly, grabbing the box. It was a quite heavy box with brown wrapping paper with reindeers on it and a large red bow. “I wrapped it myself,” he smirked, playfully flipping his shirt hair, and you giggled.
You ripped the paper and opened the box, eyes softening. In the box, there was a graphic tee, your —and his—favorite fresh perfume by Jo Malone, five pens with your first and last name engraved in the middle, a Cravings cookbook from Chrissy Teigen and a yellow and white vertical striped apron with the words ‘Summer Lovin’ with a sun embroidered at the top. Your eyes watered at the words at the special but emotional meaning behind it.
Two months before you and Harry broke up, you knew it was the end. You both agreed that you would spend two months together before you had to part ways with one another. It was the most special and fun summer you ever had, but emotionally, it was the worst. Knowing that you weren’t going to be together anymore by the end of it was behind the facade of the endless laughter and love. You really didn’t want it to be over, but you understood and needed to grow separately and blossom with your careers.
The words behind the embroidered apron was from one summer night. You and Harry had a bonfire at the beach, and you were cuddled up with him as he held a blanket around the both of you. You had tequila disguised like water as you held your bottle up to the best summer loving. You wished the circumstances were different, but if it’s meant to be, then he’ll come back to you.
“You’ve always wanted to learn how to cook and I’ve seen that you’re starting to on your Instagram stories, so I thought these were the perfect things to get you so you could be a proper chef now,” he said with a soft smile.
Harry truly paid attention to the small details of your life. Together or not, he intently listened and observed without anyone knowing. He nailed it down to the small details; from the perfume, the pens, and the apron. The sentiment behind it was what made the gift so special, and the person who gifted it to you completed and made it so much better.
As your vision had gone glassy, you sat on your knees, reaching up at Harry for a hug. He bent down to your eye level, sitting on his knees as well as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You held him tightly, sniffling into his shoulder as a rush of overwhelming emotions hit you. Your heart fluttered and pounded at the same time—a feeling that was familiar to your body when it came to Harry.
“Thank you so much. This is the most thoughtful gift ever,” you said into his shoulder. This gift was number two on the list of gifts you’ve received from him, following Harry himself as your number one, of course.
Harry pulled his head back slightly to press a kiss to the side of your head. The gesture had made your heart swoon and you smiled against his shoulder. Everyone was watching you two interact, and they all thought this was finally the moment where you two would get back together again. They’ve all seen you two suffer enough being without each other, along with the heavy tension that there was. All they wanted was for you both to be happy.
You pulled away from him, looking up at his green eyes as they stared into you. He offered you a small smile that took your breath away before he wrapped one arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his side as he wasn’t quite done holding you.
After a few minutes, your friends had let you have your moment before Niall complained how he didn’t have a gift yet. You and Harry chuckled, letting go of one another, and he placed the Santa hat onto your head before you slowly started walking over to Niall. When you handed him his gift, he cheered happily before opening it. You had given him several customized guitar pics with his initials printed onto them, a leather notebook since he liked to write songs, and Proper 12 Irish Whiskey, which was fitting because he’s Irish and he likes Connor McGregor. He thanked you with a big hug, picking you up off the ground with one arm as he held the alcohol bottle in the other.
Addie was the last one who hadn’t received a gift, and Niall was her Secret Santa. He gave her a bunch of makeup with your help, and a tupperware set, which she had been asking for since everyone always took her containers because she liked hosting so many parties.
The rest of the night had gone on for a few more hours before everyone was pretty tired, deciding to call it a night. Everyone helped clean up, making sure to help Addie with the dishes and putting or throwing stuff away. Although you were cleaning, you loved your entire group. This was your family--the closest people to you. The ones who know everything about you and would laugh at you when you fall before falling with you. You were entirely grateful for everyone in this room, and you couldn’t have asked for a better group to spend more holidays and days with.
After the cleaning was done, Niall and Eli started to head out, not before Eli was satisfied with the amount of goodbyes he gave Nic with how long the hug was. Niall had to physically pull him off, telling him the Uber was outside.
You were washing your hands before Harry walked over next to you, handing you a towel to dry off your hands. “Thank you,” you muttered, shyly smiling.
“Uh, I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over?” He proposed. Your brows raised at his question. You and the girls had planned on having a sleepover after, but the prospect of going home with Harry had sounded much better (no offense to your friends).
“I was planning to sleepover here…” you decided to innocently tease, even though you knew you were going to say yes.
“I already asked them, and they said I could take you. I could drop you back off here if you want. So, the answer is up to you,” he smirked. A blush appeared onto your cheeks, admiring the fact that he asked your friends for permission if he could take you home.
“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” you teased, lightly nudging him.
“I’ll take my chances,” he smiled, a hopeful look presented on his face.
You breathed out a chuckle, looking at him for a moment before you nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Harry’s eyes widened as the corners of his lips turned up. You grabbed your phone and your coat before walking over to Addie and Nic who were both cuddled up on the couch, saying goodbye to them. They sent you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes as nerves startled to settle in your stomach.
You followed Harry out of the door, the cold air brisking past you as you walked to his car. He opened the passenger and you thanked him before getting in. Harry started the car and the song that was playing was ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside.’ It was a song you loved ever since you were a little girl, and you remembered the times you and your mom would always sing it in the car. You smiled at the memory, humming as you hoped it would be a way to distract you from the anxious feeling that you have.
You started humming to the tune as quietly as you possibly could, but Harry heard it as he started to hum it as well. You looked at him through your peripheral vision, noticing that he started to tap his fingers against the steering wheel.
You were about to start singing until you noticed that he pulled into his driveway, so you contained yourself and closed your coat, getting out of the car as you followed him into his home. You’ve only been inside his home three times--those three times being when he would suggest everyone hang out there. It was a lovely place and whenever you were sitting on his couch, you had wished you shared the space with him.
Harry lit up the fireplace, placing the metal shield in front of it before turning back towards you and smiling. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to get us some hot chocolate, if that’s alright?” He asked, wanting to know your preferred drink.
“Sound good.” You hung your coat onto the coat rack before walking over to his turquoise velvet couch and taking a seat, getting comfortable to an extent, not knowing how comfortable you should get.
Not long after, Harry came back with a wooden tray, and he placed it on the coffee table in front of you. There were two mugs filled with milk, two hot chocolate kits, and spoons.
“I made these for my students, and I just so happened to have two extra kits, so this will be fun,” he smiled, and you gave him one back appreciatively. You thought that it was cute and sweet of him to give something to his students for the holiday season. Normally, teachers don’t give them anything, but Harry wasn’t just any other teacher.
A somewhat comfortable silence fell over you two as you both made your own hot chocolate, and you listened to the fireplace roar. Once you two were done, you clicked your glasses together before taking a sip. The warm and comforting drink made you smile and was overall delicious.
Harry didn’t know what to say or how to say what he really wanted to say. It felt like he had non stop thoughts running through his head, but when he opened his mouth to start, there was a delay. An overwhelming feeling took over him and he wanted to yell at himself for not saying how he really felt.
“Y/N-”
“Harry.”
Just like before, your minds had been in sync, causing you both to speak at the same time. A light laugh came out of both of your mouths.
“You go first,” you told him.
Harry took a deep breath. “How’re you doing?” He asked. Out of everything he could have said, that was the only question that came out of his mouth, but he figured it’s a good start to getting somewhere.
“Truthfully?” He nodded. “I’m doing okay. I’ve managed to distract myself from worrying about the future with work, and so far, it’s been helping.”
“What are you worried about?” Harry wondered curiously. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and if he’s being honest, it’s been that way the first time he saw you…ever.
“Worried if I’m gonna be where I want to be career wise, and…” you trailed off.
“And what?” He encouraged you to continue. His stare was so intimidating and deep that the words flew off your tongue, making them unforgettable. “Ba--Y/N?” He called out for you, noticing how he almost slipped up and called you ‘baby,’ and you so wished he hadn’t stopped himself.
You finally mustered up the courage to speak your thoughts. “I’m afraid that I’m gonna be alone,” you said honestly.
Harry’s brows furrowed, shaking his head instantly. “You’re not alone, no. You have your family, all of us--your friends, me-”
“You?” Your brows raised.
“Yeah-”
“Harry, you’re the reason why I’m so worried…” you confessed. You were starting to get frustrated--not at Harry, but at yourself because you had planned to have this conversation a different day. You tried to calm yourself down, and Harry could practically see that you were getting angry at yourself. You had a certain stressful and frustrated look that he would notice when you started to beat yourself up over things. And throughout the months of being with you, especially when you were in the midst of law school, he learned how to calm you down.
Harry placed his hand on your knee; the touch being unexpected to you, but it had brought you immediate comfort. He pulled you into his side and you rested your head on his shoulder, looping your arm under his, the one that’s on your leg, and hugged his arm. Harry’s other hand touched your arm, caressing and soothing you. His actions had felt very natural and familiar to him. He would comfort you like this when you were feeling stressed. Normally, he wanted to cuddle you tightly, but this was your preferred way to calm down because in a way, he was still holding you, and you were still in control and didn’t feel like you were suffocating if he had held you tightly.
You stayed like that for a few moments, and you had calmed down a bit already, but you just wanted to be close to him and cherish the moment.
After a few minutes, you pulled away and turned towards him, smiling softly. Your heart warmed at the fact that he remembered exactly what to do when you started to feel anxious, and you may have fallen in love with him even more…after all these years.
“Now, wanna tell me why you’re so worried?” He asked softly, not wanting his tone to be pressuring, and you’re grateful for it.
“I’m worried I’m going to have to live a life without you. It terrifies me to think about you going out and meeting someone, and I would have to watch you get married to someone else that’s not me. That you would be sharing this home with someone that’s not me.” Your eyes start to water, and you had mentally told yourself that you wouldn’t cry, but you didn’t believe yourself in the slightest. “Watching you love someone else is going to be the most difficult thing I would have to do.”
Your tears had fully fallen down your face, which is unfortunate because you both had such a good day with your friends and it was nearly Christmas. Quickly wiping your tears away, you got up from the couch, and headed towards the door. Harry was confused until he saw you grab your coat, putting it on. In a flash, Harry got up from the couch, walking towards you.
“W-What are you doing?” He asked.
“I really can’t stay…” you told him sadly. You had no idea how you were getting home or back to Addie’s since it’s snowing, so you don’t know if there were any Ubers out, especially at this time. “This evening has been…so very nice, Harry.”
“You don’t have to leave. Baby, it’s cold outside, c’mon,” he pleaded with worried eyes. Your heart melted at his words and the name that he used to call you, making you pause in your movement.
“Please,” he pleaded softly, taking a small step forward, and your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up at him. There was a dead silence between you two that was tension filled, and you had no clue what was going to happen next until he opened his mouth.
“Mind if I move in closer?” He whispered. The sound would barely be audible if anyone else was there, so he said those words specifically for you to hear.
You shook your head, and he took another step forward. Your bodies were a centimeter away from being pressed up against one another, and your heart was beating so fast, making your hands shake and tremble. He looked down at you so intently that you were under his spell, and you were conflicted as you wish you knew how to break the spell as his green eyes looked deep into you, luring you in even more.
You took a deep breath. “Kiss me already,” you breathed out. Harry’s heart nearly stopped at your words, but he slightly smirked as he blushed, brushing your hair behind your ears before taking your face into your hands and leaning down to place a deep and passionate kiss onto your lips.
This feeling, this touch, this man was what you’ve been waiting for these past two years. Throughout those years, you felt like giving up; accepting the fact that he wasn’t going to love you again. But he had proved you wrong in the simple brush of his lips and tongue that were in sync with yours, making the spark between you grow bigger and bigger. The spark that had never lost its power, but was on pause.
You grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him closer as the other hand was wrapped around his back. Harry had you pushed up against his front door, and you had the urge to lift your leg up to wrap it around him, but you resisted.
Harry wanted more, too. His hands trailed down from your face to your back, closing the nonexistent proximity between you, and guided you back to the couch. You were walking backwards, completely trusting him that he wouldn’t let you fall as his lips never left yours.
You giggled once the back of your legs hit the couch, falling onto the soft material as Harry hovered over you, laying in between your legs. He looked at you for a moment, studying every freckle, the crimson color on your cheeks, the curve when you smile, your glimmering eyes, and your cute nose. He knew that it was exactly how he remembered. After a couple of years being separated, a beautiful face like yours was hard to forget.
“You’re quite crazy to think I’d want to live the rest of my life with someone else when you’re right in front of me,” he suddenly said. Your eyes widened at his confession. “Never wanna be without you ever again. Thought you didn’t want to be with me when I came back, so I just didn’t bother. But you have no idea how much I missed you. I missed you so much.”
He placed soft kisses all around your face as he spoke, leaving you feeling so tender and soft as he was so gentle with you. For someone who’s on her way to becoming a lawyer and always having to have an answer for everything, you were speechless. The words that you’ve been waiting for for so long were music to your ears. It rolled off his tongue so smoothly, slick like honey, and you connected your lips with his again, swirling your tongue against his as you devoured his words. Hands finding their way to his hair, you gripped on his locks and pulled just the way he liked it, earning a groan from him, and you smirked against his mouth.
You pulled back, leaving him breathless. Swollen lips, blushed cheeks, and smiles plastered on his face, you said the words you’ve been itching to say. “I love you,” you blurted out. The words had rolled off your tongue so effortlessly, making shivers run down Harry’s spine as his eyes watered up. “I was listening to Elijah earlier, and he’s right. Life’s too fucking short to not have what you want.”
He took one of your hands into his, bringing it up to his lips before placing a kiss onto the back of your hand. Your other hand was playing with the curls that laid delicately on his hands, scratching it lightly.
“Missed hearing you say those words.” He smiled, tears making their way down his face. “I love you too. So, so much that you have no idea how I feel when you walk into the room and I see your beautiful face. I love you. I love you. I love you, baby.” His affirmations had caused you to softly sob—the two of you a crying mess from the obvious but unspoken love that was finally being released again. “It’s always been you. You’ve always been my girl, did you know that?” You tilted your head a bit. “Never gonna go a day without reminding you that you are, because you’ve never not been my girl. Had to love and admire you from afar, but just wanted to hold you and kiss you.”
“You can kiss and hold me all you want now, my love,” you reassured him, and he dug his face into your neck, placing a soft kiss against your skin.
You smiled so brightly as your heart felt so happy and overflowed with love, and he matched your grin, feeling the same way.
The two of you kissed each other for a bit more, whispering sweet words, and laughed and talked about anything and everything—truly catching up with one another.
“Oh.” He got off of you, making you slightly pout from the weight of laying on you that you already missed. “I actually got you another gift.”
“Harry…you already got me enough.” It was true. Along with the thoughtful gift, he was your true Christmas miracle.
“I know. But this one, I wanted to give to you in private, and this is the perfect moment, so let me do this?” He looked at you with sweet and pleading eyes with a small smile on his face. Who could ever say no to that adorable face? Certainly not you.
You nodded, and he shot up, heading towards the stairs. “Give me thirty seconds,” he said before rushing up the stairs.
You heard him shuffling up there, and the sound of a drawer opening and closing. Thirty seconds later, he was walking downstairs, holding a white box wrapped in a red bow. He sat back down next to you, looking into your eyes as he spoke.
“This is what I wanted to give you when we were alone. It didn’t matter the outcome of how things turned out between us tonight, I just wanted to give you this because I think you’ll appreciate it. It reminded me of you when I saw it, and I knew I had to get it.” He handed you the box with slightly shaky hands.
You untied the bow, taking the top off. A gasp came from your mouth as you picked up the chain. It was a little gold sun pendant, symbolizing your summer together. You studied the charm for a moment, delicately touching it as you teared up at the meaning behind it. It matched quite well with your embroidered apron, and the two together would be quite the match.
“Thank you, Harry. This is so sweet of you.” You leaned forward, giving him a hasty kiss to his lips, smiling against them. “Help me put it on?” He nodded eagerly. You handed him the necklace before turning around, lifting your hair. You felt the cool metal chain hit your skin along with Harry’s lingering touches across your shoulders, causing your skin to pebble. He placed a quick kiss to your neck before pulling away. You turned around to meet his eyes as you smiled.
“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m so happy. Merry Christmas Eve, Eve, baby.”
“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve, my love.”
You cuddled into his side as the silence took over. The only thing was heard was the pounding of your love-filled hearts along with the cracking of the fire. Sure, it was cold outside, but right here in Harry’s arms, you were warmer than ever.
please come into my inbox and talk about your thoughts and feelings on this! also feedback is appreciated, thank you for reading! <3
#GBSxmaschallenge#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#boyfriend!harry#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles imagine#harry styles dirty one shot#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x yn#harry styles au#harry#harry styles
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12. Liars and lovers
Dialogue prompt : If you don't hug me right now, I think I might fall apart.
Request by my favourite @thebusyfangirl @sunflowerishdolphin
TW- ANGST | highly inspired by young royals..
" you're just young in love. It's all just puppy love " beat
" it's not real. Wake up from this horrid dream" beat
" you're not in love, you can't be "
" you have black blood in you " beat
" you're a Malfoy " beat
It felt like flashes imploding in front of his eyes with the shutter of those lights going off with his heart palpating heavily like the beats of a rock music deafening his ears. He was over the solid surface but he felt as though he was in a Quicksand, sucking him under and his throat as if tied with a telephone cord which Only tightened with every beat. He could feel his hands but not his legs, it was weird, it felt strange like his eyes were closing but they were forced open. The feeling of the resting tongue on the top of his mouth felt very strange, as if it was the first time he was feeling it, but he wasn't. He always had felt it but it seemed so vivid. All his thoughts ran into had that wall always been that black? It was as if he was standing in the middle of a raging cyclone but not an inched of him was harmed as the water passed through him. And there he was, standing in his white sweater with emerald eyes, staring in the longingness , waiting for draco to take his hand.
" Mr. Malfoy ?" He heard. Draco's eyebrows shot up as his trance of thoughts broke and he looked at the opened door with a small figure's shadow casting on the surface.
" they're here " Reggie, the house elf said. Draco nodded from where he was sitting on the bed with a remembrall in his hand.
" I'll be there in a second " he whispered. Reggie nodded and left the door opened. Draco breathed heavily as he stood up and watched himself in the mirror, fixing his suit.
With a beating heart, he went where he was supposed to be.
" you know what to say ?" Lucius asked as he squeezed on draco's shoulder.
Draco reluctantly nodded, pulling his coat, shaking his hands to get rid of the anxiety bubbling.
Narcissa smiled fondly at her son, fixing his tie, then leaning down to whisper in his ear "it's all on you draco "
Draco tried to give a fake smile as he entered the living room, an interviewer waiting for him.
" the name had already a been corrupted enough for us that you had to be seen with the potter kid. Have our name not been tainted enough that you had to pull up another stunt to drown our name draco ? You're the hier of Malfoy, you can't be like this. We can fix this, fix you together but all you need to do is refuse any accusations that stand our way. You are a Malfoy draco, a Malfoy and we don't play with love. You are to marry a girl and live a life like everyone of ours and it ends there. You are to say, to deny everything printed out in Media. It's the Only way, the only way "
" are you ready ?" She asked. Draco heaved before he nodded, sitting down in front of her.
" we'll start of with the business you are bound to take upon soon ? So is it true that you had came up with the Malfoy business, right after you've been drowned in debt and you actually want to run something like that ?" She asked
" but I don't want to be the chairman or the bloody ceo or anyone of that company "
" yes, I will be taking over. And I very much look forward to it " he smiled stiffly.
" and is it also true that you will be in denial to any muggles and strictly follow a wizards and witches employees ?"
" people are never going to like it. Think-"
" that's enough Draco "
" yes. We believe that wizards and witches are the only one's capable of being our employees " draco answered with a stiff nod.
" and you're going to manage running the business alongside school ?" She asked
" but my education-"
" think about the family for one bloody second instead of just your own self " Lucius sneered
" I think it's very much that I run it alongside my education. And I very much think I'll do my best "
" now as of talking about the news that recently spurred through, you were seen with mr. Harry potter, at the recent fundraiser after party held by Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry ?" She asked, penning down with much interest
" big deal I was seen with him-"
" you can't be and that's the end of it. You are going to say that you were having a civil conversation, that's it "
" we have put our differences aside and I see no reason as why I cannot be seen with him " draco sternly replied, earning a low threatening glare from his father behind them " We were in a civil conversation if anyone interested " draco added
" so it's not true that you two were supposedly dating ?" She asked
" it's a lie "
Beat.
__________________________________
Have that wall always been this green ? Draco wondered as he stared at the opposite wall longingly, unnoticed tears escaping his eyes. He didn't even cared anymore to wipe them away as the memories rang loudly in his head from the very afternoon, the conversation he had with harry himself, how he had let him down and his loving eyes and the pain it caused him. The look of pain etched so defined over his face.
" I waited like an hour for you " draco whispered as he watched harry come closer
" oh did you now ? Why was that mr. Malfoy? Shall I apologize my majesty?" Harry sarcastically replied as he crossed his arms in front of him after reaching close enough to have a conversation.
" harry-"
" it's potter to you " harry raised his eyebrows sternly
" harry, i can explain " draco sighed
Harry looked at the tree behind draco, almost rolling his eyes " and what would it change Malfoy ?"
" harry, please-"
" please what? Or do you want me to please you with another comforting things so you can bluntly say it to the media that we aren't fucking together " harry Snapped
" I had no choice " draco raised his voice
" you never have one draco " harry too raised his voice. Just for a moment, just one, draco wanted to scream at harry, to tell him thing's aren't served on a silver platter for him as everything think's it to be.
" I- it was the only way whether you accept it or not" draco sighed. He shook his head as he Turned around to watch over the lake they'd been standing near to away from everyone, their meeting spot. Maybe looking away would make it all easier, just maybe.
" also I think we should break up" draco suddenly whispered behind him.
Harry frowned as he turned to see Draco "you want to break up?"
" is that your decision?" He added
" yes, i don't think we should do this anymore then" Draco's voice quivered as he spoke through " we knew it wasn't going to last anyways. And I m- I need the family name to go on and not being with you is the only way. It'll just be like a little school fling "
"fine " harry whispered after a long pause, sniffing, wiping off his escaping tears.
" it's better anyway. I'd rather be with someone who doesn't throw me away " harry whispered.
Draco sighed turning to face harry and cupping his face in his hands " you know it's not like that "
" seems otherwise " harry distantly replied as he stared far ahead over the lake.
" hey" draco tried to make harry look at him but only met with stern denial " look at me, please " Draco chewed his lip controlling his emotions.
Harry finally looked at draco, his jaw clenched " and what ?"
" I'm sorry " draco whispered as he wiped Harry's tears and kissed his forehead. Harry hummed, avoiding draco's face again. Frowning draco wrapped his arms around harry, not meeting with the same..
" hug me" draco insisted
But harry didn't.
Draco let his tear finally escape his eyes over Harry's shoulder " you have to understand harry, please "
" I do understand, very clearly " harry replied stiffly
Draco had nothing more left to say. His tears spilled with his arms still wrapped around Harry's in unrequited action, feeling his heart palpating rapidly with a void.
" I'm sorry " draco whispered again, wrapping his arms tighter but met with only the emptiness of lost love. The pain soothed across his body with the denied physical touch harry had once enjoyed so much. He hated this harry, the one who didn't hug back, the one who was so distant. He needed his harry back, if only for a moment before they break apart but aware of the pain he caused harry, he knew he wasn't going to but he tried.
" harry, please " his voice quivered in Harry's neck
" if you don't hug me right now I think i might fall apart"
" you don't deserve it " and with that harry broke free and without a glance walked away leaving draco with the the agony of losing him. He wanted to hug harry, he really wanted him to, he needed to but harry didn't and somewhere draco knew he was left to deal with it himself from now on. Harry was gone and it was draco's fault.
" Draco I asked if you're coming for dinner ?" Someone asked as they opened the door slightly
Draco looked up from the wall to the door, pansy holding the door half open " you go. I'm not hungry " draco sniffed
Pansy looked at Draco with pity " take care " and she left, too.
_______________________________
They were officially broken up. It was clear. Harry didn't spared a single glance at Draco, not even accidentally, he didn't share the table at potions with him either and much so, he didn't even cross paths with draco anymore but would rather be 4 minutes late to the class.
Harry was distant and not just with draco but with everyone else and it ached draco. Layin on the bed with lonely feelings, he missed their nights together, the nights of Laying under the star watching each other instead of the sky because they thought other was more beautiful. He missed the way Harry's wrapped around his waist from behind and the way he kissed his neck and whispered words so smoothly of a normal conversation as if it didn't affect him at all but most of them all, he missed kissing harry. He missed feeling the way Harry's lips Whispered in the howling wind his love for Draco. He missed it.
Draco threw his head back, sighing to himself, wiping away the tears of unhappiness that visited him like a nightmare every night after having lost Harry's because of his own faults.
But grief turned to sorrow, sorrow to pain, pain to numbness and numbness to anger, he threw away his journal at the opposite wall.
" fuck " he yelled as he harshly tugged at his hair " fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck " he groaned, crying heavily.
The entire month he had been waiting for the void to be filled with something, something other than harry but harry like a pest had reached the core of his heart and infected every inch that he missed him in every song, in every story, In every poem, in every walk, in every talk, in every conversation, in every tear, in every smile, in every melody, in every tune, in every aspect, he was infected with Harry's love and he missed him with the core of his infected heart that Could've only been cured by harry, who had left. Left for Christmas break, left draco, left everything about him.
He ran his hand down his face, pinching his nose trying to get rid of the feeling but nothing worked and he had to show up at another interview in another hour to talk about inauguration. He was screwed and he blamed himself.
" you are responsible for your own actions " narcissa had said one night " always remember that. Before anyone else's you're your own. Remember that "
" save the heart, you moron " harry had laughed one day while they were discussing a silly riddle..
" Save your heart, moron " draco's reflection mocked as he stared at himself in the mirror.
Wiping away his tears, he immediately got ready and checked out of the school.
__________________________________
" and you'll be running the business, right ? Like your father expects ?" She asked, over the mic..
" yes, I will be" he replied, uncrossing his legs..
" Mr.Malfoy, if you don't mind of course, after having denied last month of any sparks of your relationship with mr. Harry potter, are you In general seeing anyone then? Someone who'd take forward the malfoy name ?"
That ought to do it, possibly. Draco stared at the fraction of people waiting for his reply.
" save your heart "
" you're your own "
" mr. Malfoy ?" She asked again.
Draco broke out of his trail, suddenly becoming aware of the mic in his hand.
What the fuck was he doing ?
Suddenly everything seemed so real and all he could think of was the emerald eyes, standing in the middle of the cyclone waiting for him to take his hand..
" I'm sorry" Draco suddenly said as he stood up, dropping the mic and walking off the Little stage
" Mr. Malfoy ? Can you please answer the question?" She asked again..
Draco looked at her before for one last time he picked up the mic and said " I lied "
" what do you mean you lied ?" 2 people asked
Draco stared at everyone, his mind doing circle one more time before he found the little courage and replied
" I'm gay"
" and I love harry potter "
Will have part 2
300 followers appreciation dialogue prompt requests open
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"It's just Bipolor, it's not that bad."
--- Ignorant Humans.
People view bipolor as a roller coaster, where a person's emotions go up and down. Meaning, the stigma is that everyone with bipolor simply experiences rapid mood swings. This view point only shows one symptom of one type of bipolor and dismisses everything else.
I have Bipolor One. This means my "episodes" can last anywhere from several days to a month. Further more, I expirence the depressive or "down" side a lot longer and more frequently than the manic or "up" side.
My depressive phases come with suicidal ideation, severe lack of interest in everything, zero motivation to do anything, permenant exhaustion, and heavy doses of disassociation.
When I'm going through this phase it's like I've fallen into a dark hole. Everything that brought me joy is just out of reach. Yes, there's a wobbly step to my left that could get me out, but I'm also waist deep in sludge, so utilizing said step is near impossible.
And just when I think it can't get much worse, it does. I am exhausted. I simply don't have the energy to move. I could sleep, but being covered in sludge and stuck in the dark has drained all life from me. Thus, all I can seem to do is just stay in place.
Except, I'm not stationary because there's a sink hole opening up and I'm being dragged into it. I try to grab something, anything, yet it's futile. I'm too drained and too stuck to make any real difference in the matter. So, I inevitably get sucked down into the sinkhole, which spirals downwards into a void of numbness.
While all this happens, I'm watching it all unfold from the top of the hole. It's like I'm not even in my own body and because I'm not there, I can't help myself.
Then, the episode breaks. I might be "normal" or I could be manic. But manic is good, right? Wrong. Manic doesn't mean overly happy. The definition of manic actually is, "A high energy, euphoric state that lasts an extended period of time." The definition is open ended because everyone experiences their manic phase differently and it can come with just as many harms as the depressive one.
In my case, my "high energy" state comes with major anxiety and parinoia (please note, I also have an anxiety disorder that effects how I expirence this phase). It feels like someone is always watching me, every move I make is being analyzed, and no matter where I go they follow. Then to top it off, I expirence insomnia, so I can't sleep. No matter how hard I try or what I do, I either sleep for a couple of hours or I don't sleep at all.
And the worst part is? I don't stop to think, I just do things, stupid things, without a second thought. There's so much going on in my head, so many thoughts slamming against each other, that I can't make out a single one. This fact leads me to become very impulsive.
Sometimes that appears as over spending, engaging in sexual activities, suddenly taking on several major tasks, etc. Essentially, I do things, sometimes dangerous things, because I have no sense of self preservation. I know I'm not invincible, but in this state I simply can't care. I have put myself into some very harmful and toxic situations while I was manic. Then, when it's all over I'm left wondering, "why didn't I stop?"
Then the cycle repeats. Over and over and over.
So, yes, in a sense, it is just bipolor. However, bipolor comes with so many damaging symptoms that it's beyond difficult to handle on one's own. That's why treatment and education of the disorder is so crucial.
Your love and understanding is equally as important when it comes to navigating this disorder. You knowing that bipolor comes with several harsh and sometimes, very scary symptoms, can be a huge help. So, please remember to not write your loved one off as "Just being bipolor" and to provide as much support as you can.
Note: this piece is showing my personal experience with my bipolor 1 disorder. There are several types of bipolor and everyone experiences their symptoms differently, so this piece does not apply to everyone.
#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writer#writing#writer blog#bipolor#bipolor 1 disorder#mental health awareness#mental disorder#mental health#my mental health#education#informational#writeblr community#just a psa#thanks for coming to my ted talk
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RAY IN THE BATHROOM
Summary: Ray is hiding in a bathroom and has a panic attack over the fact that his only real friend and the love of his life has (supposedly) left him for Brad.
Word-Count: 2.1k
Warnings: References of suicidal thoughts, ptsd, and severe anxiety. Brad is a semi-asshole. Hop on the angst train (with fluff at the end!)
A/N: I was listening to Be More Chill because let's just say that I can heavily relate to Micheal In The Bathroom due to recent events in my life. So then again, what better way to cope then using my biggest kin, Ray Person, in a totally not self indulgent fic?? Also as for the prompt requests-i'm working on them! Sorry, school has been bad. I'm keeping a promise to myself to release at least once a a week and I'm on a gen kill rampage. Idk what else to add so enjoy!
Taglist: @theboardwalkbody
Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!
Ray doesn’t expect himself to be hanging in the bathroom at their first year reunion. But instead of “hanging”, he’s hiding. Those emotions that never come out are now coming back to haunt him. Ray knows he can't hide behind a shit eating grin and sunglasses. He leaned up against the tub inside of the cramped room, his sunglasses tucked into the neck of his polo as tears sting his eyes.
Ray’s legs felt numb and he knows if he looks into the mirror and sees his flushed face and eyes, he won’t be able to conceal his crying. He’s not able to go back outside and would prefer to fake pee or just check his phone in the bathroom.
“C’mon brah!” Q-tip whined like a child, crossing his legs. “This hurts like a butt cheek on a stick”
“You can’t come in!” Ray yelled as he held back a sob, “The little man is going. Suck it up, buttercup.”
Q-tip had been knocking on the door for over ten minutes before giving up and choosing to pee outside. Ray let out a shaky sigh and fell onto the thin side of the bathtub, biting his lip and he batted his wet eyes with his palms.
Ray and y/n had been an unexpected trio. Partners in crime, double trouble, you went well together despite their differences. You were an educated college student and he was a whiskey tango mess who couldn’t shut his mouth for the life of it. You cried, laughed, and did everything together. Little known to y/n, Ray didn’t have a crush on her-but he was more than in love.
However, when Ray is having severe social anxiety, an event he would typically rely on y/n to help him with, his “partner in crime” falls short. Ray knows that y/n is light years better than him. Here was the smartest and most beautiful woman he had met next to a college dropout who didn’t make it past Geometry.
Now the “perfect pair” is severed, leaving one half alone in the bathroom.
Ray’s forgotten how long he’s been in the bathroom for. These types of events always felt forced, and everyone knew that. Whenever that awkwardness would arise, Ray and y/n would choose to ditch and steal a few beers and sit in the bathtub, watching an obscure eighties film in the dark, cramped room with Ray’s god awful commentary.
But even though Ray has Born American downloaded, he can’t bring himself to watch it. Now he’s laying in the bathtub, picking at grout as he softly grieves. He’s hiding in there while y/n is ignoring all of their history.
Ray first arrived at the party, making a dramatic entrance. He made sure everybody knew that he was there, especially y/n. His original plan was to wear a purple tux he had snatched from walamrt since it was ugly as fuck, and Ray knew that. But knowing that you were going to be there, Ray made an attempt with an expensive navy polo and khaki shorts, courtesy of Nate.
Upon seeing you, Ray ran over from whatever he was doing to talk to you. Whether you were OD’S or a casual jumpsuit, you looked dead drop gorgeous-and Ray never knew how to express his affections. So he pulled you into a hug and muttered a shitty joke, and you just laughed.
Over the course of the next hour, the two of you catched up about your mundane lives. It made Ray feel guilty since he knew that you were better than him in every way possible, on the road of success. Your future sounded like you would go to some fancy school and then marry a lawyer. Ray wanted to be good for you, but he didn’t know how to at all. He followed you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the party, feeling a tinge of jealousy whenever one of the guys would give you a chaste hug or when you wouldn't pay attention to him for five minutes.
Ray didn’;t know why the fuck eh was feeling so sappy. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating (even though that’s exactly what he wanted).
Ray doesn’t hate Brad, but he just hates whenever he talks to you. He sees the two of you, smiling and laughing as you catch u[. Ray knows it’s rude, but he buds in and offers to get drinks for the “three amigos”. You kindly accept and Ray goes away to get drinks. He makes sure to spit inside of Brad’s drink as a childish act of revenge.
As Ray walks down the hallway balancing the three drinks, he pauses to hide behind the door since he hear’s Brad mention his name. You and Brad had moved to the couch, sitting too close for Ray’s comfort levels. He had an arm slung over the couch, which was barely touching you, but Ray had taken it as an offense.
Standing by the doorway and leaning, he overheard Brad’s words.
“Ray’s a little shit, whiskey tango loser, sister fucking, type of man. I don’t know what you see in him,” Brad had casually said, cold and straight to the point. He truly lived up to his name.
That’s when Ray dropped the drinks and ran towards the bathroom. He didn’t hear you respond, and that was the last thing he needed to hear.
Now Ray’s sitting in the tub, no longer holding tears back, but there coming out. A sob escapes his mouth and he tries to smile, but he can’t. He gets a taste of his salty tears and tries to stop the waterworks, but they come back, bigger and faster. It’s been a while since he had a good cry-but it happened at one of the most inconvenient times. And it was over a stupid girl-who he coulnd’t deny that he was in love with.
But y/n was lightyears ahead of him. Besides, Brad was (seemingly) a better fit for her. The scenario began to play in Ray’s wild mind. The memories of “double trouble” will get erased. Their wedding will be small, paid for by the Colberts. Q-Tip will DJ, Godfather will make a speech with his horrid voice, and Ray will make a shitty joke as usual. Worst had come to the worst.
Ray hears a drunk Q-tip sing along through the door to “I wanna dance with somebody”. His feelings sink even deeper cause it makes him think; now there’s no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore. That was y/n’s favorite hobby about these forced get-togethers.
Ray knew that at some point, he’d be forced to come out. As he chokes back the incoming tears, he waits until his face becomes dry, planning to blame it on weed or something in his eyes or the five bud lights he regrets drinking.
Knock, knock, knock, knock
Ray looks up and wipes his face, forcing a fake laugh. “Oh hell yeah, I'll be out soon.”
“Ray, it’s me.” It’s y/n’s voice, and Ray can’t believe it’s her. A part of him wants her to come in, but the other part wants him to defend himself.
“Why do you want me to come out when you can hang out with your new big strong viking? Who talks all educated and shit since you just love being around him.” Ray spits out with a few sniffles.
Based on his words and the sniffles, you can tell something is clearly wrong.
You shake your head and lightly knock again, “Please, that’s not what happened. Brad’s an idiot, and we’re just friends. “Please, come out.”
Ray got out from the tub and came close to the door, feeling your frantic breathes again the door. “My biggest mistake was showing up. I wished I stayed up watching cable porn, or I offered myself. Besides, he’s better for you. Just go away.”
Hearing him say such things made you worry even more, afraid that he could do something to himself that he’d regret.
“Ray, open the damn door. Don’t say dumb shit.” You pleaded, frantically twisting the door knob. The worry was evident in your voice.
“No, fuck you! Fuck this whole place. You’re smart; just leave me alone.” Ray banged against the door as tears came down his face. He immediately regretted his choice of words, knowing that they would hurt you. He turned away to return to the bathtub, only to stop when he heard you now sniffling.
Mega fuck.
Ray reluctantly walks back to the door and opens it, to see your face, all red and wet like this. Both of you stood there, disheveled, tears both running down your face.
Not a single word was spoken between the two of you as you ran into his arms, pulling him close as you cried into his chest. Ray used his foot to slam the door shut and then proceeded to pull you into a bearhug, stroking the back of your head as he comforted you through your sobs.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He repeated as his tears stained your shoulder as well, “I didn’t-fuck. I’m such a retar-” He froze, knowing that you hated that word. “Idiot. I just-fuck. Don’t cry. You’ll ruin all the stuff on your face-”, Ray said as he tilted your face up and started to wipe your tears.
“Makeup. ‘S fine, I’m not wearing much. I just didn’t wanna get mistaken for a middle schooler again.”
Ray and you both let out a chuckle in the midst of your shared crying session. He’s still wiping the tears from your face as you rest your arms on his waist.
“First time we met, y’know. Godfather thought you had a dick for a long time.” Ray added, which earned another laugh from you.
You shook your head, “Remember when Trombley found out I was a girl?”
“Looked like he was about to shit himself-he wouldn’t leave you alone.”
“Ugh, ‘s a nightmare.” The two of you filled the void with the awakened laughter you shared. Ray’s tiny hands moved to your chin, directing it slightly up.
“I still think you’re pretty hot either way, angel.” Ray confessed. The two of you looked at each other for a minute, seeing the love and pupils widen in both of your eyes. Standing on your toes, you and Ray’s lips gently pecked at each other. You could taste the bud light on his lips as Ray’s lips overpowered yours, gently cupping and sucking passionately.
“Fuck,” Ray breathed through the kiss as your foreheads touched, “I love you.”
“Shit, I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” You chuckled as your finger’s played with Ray’s dark hair. It’s gotten longer, and it’s at a length where he can awkwardly style it, but since Ray is Ray-it’s a mess, “I love you too. I’m sorry about Brad, you know how he is.”
“I just thought you and him were having a moment. I just started overthinking it since I thought you didn't wanna be around me. Which is chill, I was vibing,” Ray attempted to joke, which was a way to cope with his pain.
You shake your head and hold his face to reassure him. Ray looks down at you in awe, which makes a smile curve on your lips.
“Brad wasn’t touching me, he just was stretched out on the couch. Ray, don’t say that. You were in the bathroom for over an hour. I knew that you were ethier upset or having explosive diarrhea from Nate’s vegan casserole-or both.”
“That shit was beyond nasty. I bet he got all the ingredients at Trader joes and sold his soul just to buy it.” Ray quickly quipped.
“Jesus, don’t make me vomit.” You huffed as you looked at the bathtub, “Now are you gonna come out now without beating up someone?”
“Yes babycakes, as long as you do one thing.”
Cringing, you force a smile. It’s not because you don’t love him, but sometimes what comes out of his mouth can be questionable. “Yes Ray?”
He grabs your hand, which fits right into his. “Gotta show the homies who’s the alpha around here.”
You don’t mind holding Ray’s hand. You like the tight squeezes and the feel of his soft skin. As the two of you walk out of the bathroom back into the life of the party with the smell of barbeque and the august heat in the air.
“Oh god Ray, shut up.”
Ray simply responds with a goosey laugh.
#ray person#ray person x reader#ray person imagine#generation kill#generation kill x reader#generation kill imagine#carrie writes#tw suicide#tw ptsd#tw severe anxiety
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Moonlit Sparrow Through Parted Clouds
Thunderous grey clouds hung heavy in the sky as I made my way towards the lecture hall. My body ached with a bone-deep exhaustion and each leaden step I took felt heavier than the last. I stopped, wanting to turn back, but time and time again, my body refused to obey as my legs carried me towards my destination.
Half an hour later, I found myself standing outside the empty lecture hall despite the countless hesitations along the way. Sighing, I sank to the floor and closed my eyes, too tired to remain upright. That’s what university does to you. It sucks out your soul, your passion, and your youth, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk of a human being.
A familiar voice calling my name pricked my hazy, sleep deprived brain and I cracked open my heavy eyelids. My facial muscles moved like clockwork, automatically forming a smile to greet my friend.
“You look like a corpse!” Chu Ying exclaimed worriedly at the sight of the heavy dark circles beneath my vacant eyes.
“Haven’t been getting much sleep this week…” I replied with a nonchalant shrug as I quickly scrunched up my eyes until they turned into little crescents of laughter, “assignments due soon.”
Seemingly convinced by my explanation, she gave me a look of sympathetic encouragement and left. The second no one was looking, I let the smile fall. Amazing what a simple smile could conceal. You could probably murder someone, smile, plead innocent and everyone would believe you. Sighing softly under my breath, I grabbed my bag and joined the gathering crowd of students as they trickled into the dimly lit lecture theatre.
My laptop sat quietly on the desk, an empty word document laid open on its illuminated screen as the lecturer’s monotonous voiced droned on and on in the background. I should have been taking down notes but my mind was too preoccupied with my issues with the Undergraduate Office to focus on what the lecturer was saying.
A rhythmic vibration drew my attention towards the phone sitting on my lap. Glancing at the pop-up notification, a wave of anxiety and hope surged through my body as I registered who the sender was – the Undergraduate‘s Office. Quickly, I pulled up the email and immediately felt my heart sinking after reading the first line.
All seminar groups are full and we cannot move students.
Lies.
Another notification, this time, from my personal tutor.
It’s only week 3, relax.
Disappointment. Betrayal. Frustration. Anger. I clenched my trembling hands into fists as the tsunami of emotions threatened to explode and spill out of my shaking body. Half of me wanted to storm over to the Undergraduate’s office and let loose the unbridled rage coursing through my veins at the unfair treatment. The other half of me wanted to lash out at my tutor’s condescending advice. My body trembled at the barely, ever so barely contained anger.
Sixteen thousand pounds. That would be eighty-four thousand two hundred and seventy-nine ringgit each year in school fees. Fees which didn’t even include the amount I needed to spend in order to buy the books required for the modules. Sixteen thousand pounds per year just to get an education, an education that I wasn’t even getting at this point and her advice for me was to relax? How could I when my parents worked their entire youth away, saving every cent just so they could send me, all the way to Britain to get a proper education! Did they even know what the stakes of sending me abroad to study was?!
My father’s average yearly income is twenty-four thousand ringgits, barely twenty-eight percent of my yearly school fees. Was it that unreasonable to want to be in a class that will allow me to learn and improve after paying for that much money out of my parents’ own pocket?! Why would anyone in their right mind come half way across the globe, paying that ridiculous amount of money, and being so far away from family and home for years, just to fool around? If that had been my intention, I wouldn’t even have bothered going to university in the first place, let alone coming all the way to Cardiff!
University will be fun they said. You’ll meet open-minded people passionate about learning they said. Hah! That’s the biggest misconception if there ever was one. First of all, the university doesn’t care about whether you actually learn anything so long as you're paying the fees. The majority of lecturers or seminar leaders will only do the most minimal amount of work required and by that, I mean three hundred words of prose only per weekly assignment. What kind of creative work could anyone produce under three hundred words? In prose! Some don’t even bother with critical commentary which is just as essential as the creative pieces. Not only does the lack of practice in writing critical commentaries and limited word count for the creative pieces inhibit students from developing any work of significance, it also underprepares students for the three-thousand-word portfolio due at the end of the semester.
Secondly, British universities are also especially discriminatory towards outsiders or people of colour, often treating minorities and international students with hostility or disregard. I’ve experienced this discrimination first hand upon requesting a seminar change. Despite having emailed the Undergraduate Office at the same time with the exact same reasons, I was denied the change whilst my British classmate was immediately allowed to swap seminars. The office even went so far as to lie about the class being full even though I was told by the professor leading that very seminar that it wasn’t. So much for the integrity of the institution.
At the end of the day, international students are nothing but cash cows to British universities.[1] Not only do they have to pay double of what British students pay in terms of fees, they also have to deal with the discriminations that come alongside being an outsider. I understood that in this day and age, education was a business, and that the university itself was, essentially, a business, but doesn’t actual passion for learning still count for something? Or was I wrong in believing in that as well? Oh, so naïve, so very naïve!
Old memories started to surface amongst the turmoil of emotions. My father and his worn-out clothes, refusing each time to buy new ones for himself just to save a little more money. My mother mending them as best she could whilst we slept, never once complaining. Images of my father’s prematurely greying hair and bloodshot eyes as he worked his health away to provide for his children’s future. My mother’s back bent low, labouring away at some project or another in order to make ends meet. Yet, they never once showed us how tired or how tough things were. There was always enough food on the table and they always had a smile on their faces around us. Sometimes, I noticed that they would eat a lot less than usual but whenever I asked, they merely joked and said they were trying to lose weight. They could have enjoyed their youth, their honeymoon, but they decided to save it all, sacrificing their health and comfort just to ensure mine by sending me here.
I remember the times where they would secretly check their wallets whenever I begged them to buy me a book. Oh, how those very books painted and fuelled my illusions of Britain’s perfection. If only I had known the reality of it all before applying to study here. But it’s too late for regrets now.
A sharp stinging pricked the back of my eyes, tears threatening to fall as my body shook with suppressed, uncontrollable rage. Maybe if I was a little braver…maybe if I fought a little harder…maybe if I confronted them a bit more…maybe…maybe…maybe…
Then as quickly as they appeared, the tsunami of emotions faded away, leaving behind an empty husk. My clenched fists loosen and fell limply at my sides as a quiet, bitter laugh escaped my lips. Nothing was going to change. No matter how hard I fought, the end results will remain the same so what’s the point of even trying in the first place?
As the cold hard reality of the situation finally presented itself, I slumped against the chair, my empty laptop screen staring blankly back at me. Resignation dragged me deeper and deeper into the murky depths of my mind. I was drowning. No one knew and no one cared. But that’s fine. The ending remains the same regardless. Always the same…
The sound of rustling papers and loud chatter momentarily draws me out of the murky waters. Realising that the lecture had ended, I gathered my things and shuffled towards the exit, my mind returning once more to the depths of the void. Outside, the rain was pouring. I plodded down the streets drenched to the bone as my legs moved mechanically towards my flat. A stifling numbness engulfed my mind as I trudged on in silence, the howling wind battering my shivering, rain-soaked body from all sides. Rounding the corner, I pulled out a key-card and entered the cramped grey flat. Out of sheer habit, I grabbed the letters from my letterbox and stuffed them into my coat pocket before heading upstairs.
Entering the dingy room, I dropped my backpack on the bed and sank to the floor. Hugging my knees to my chest, I stared vacantly at the bleak wall. My phone rang insistently in my pocket but I didn’t answer, too tired to move. The crushing weight on my lungs forced out whatever little oxygen I managed to draw, making each breath a struggle. The clamouring voices in my mind grew louder and louder, growing in intensity yet forcefully contained, like built-up pressure without release on the brink of implosion.
You’re useless
I’m…not…
You can’t even stand up for yourself or fight for what you believe is right
Yes I can! And I’m trying! I’ve –
You’re a disappointment to your parents and your family
I’m not! I swear! I –
You’ll never amount up to anything
That’s not true! I –
You’re pathetic
No –
Nothing but a Failure
Stop saying –
Human garbage
Please! Just –
Waste of space
“SHUT UP!”
Silence. Nothing but the sound of my ragged breathing in the darkness.
The world would be better off without you
I don’t know how long I had stayed there on the floor but by the time I came around, my dripping wet clothes were nearly dry. The chaotic calamity within had finally died down and I was filled with an eerie calmness. A deafening silence blanketed the air, pierced only by the hypnotic rumbling of trains across tracks. Ah yes…the railway…my ticket to solving everything…just two blocks away…and it’ll all be over…permanently…
Forcing my lethargic limbs to move, I wobbled onto my feet and stumbled towards the door. A tiny parcel fell out of my pocket and the handwriting on it made me paused. It was my mother’s. Even under the dimness of the moonlight trickling in, there was no mistaking that immaculately cursive hand.
Letting go of the door handle, I kneeled down to pick up the neatly wrapped package. Then, slowly, as if afraid it would fall apart at the slightest touch, I began unwrapping the parcel. Upon opening the box, tears welled at the corner of my eyes. Six little cylindrical bundles of haw flakes were carefully packed within, each attached to a tightly rolled up strip of paper. Gently untying the scrolls from the sweets, I began reading them one at a time.
Jie![2] I got you your favourite sweets! Wanted to buy you more of them but Ma said there wasn’t enough space in the box. Don’t worry, I’ll send you a big box of them once I’ve saved up enough money.
– Di[3]
My heart ached as I thought about how much it must have costed for them to ship the parcel all the way from Penang to Britain. And with the little amount of pocket money…it must have taken Di-Di months of saving to be able to afford buying that one bundle of sweets…
Jie, just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you have to hold everything in on your own y’know? It’s okay to rely on others a bit more from time to time. Enjoy the sweets you idiot, you’re crazy about those haw flakes. No idea why you like them either, they aren’t even that nice.
– Mei[4]
Tears pricked the back of my eyes as my sister’s grumpy voice echoed in my ears. I could even see the disbelieving eye roll at my odd preferences in sweets after the last sentence. How I’ve missed our senseless squabbles and late-night chats….
A-Yun, being an international student in the UK isn’t always the easiest thing, especially when you’re a minority there. You’ve already taken the necessary steps and have done all you can in that situation. Remember, it’s the end result and not the process that defines a victory. Remember what Sun Tzu mentioned in The Art of War? ‘The most important rule to victory is to know when to pick your fights and how to fight it’. Not all battles need to be fought to win the war. Never forget our family values and never lose sight of your goal. Don’t worry about finances, let me handle that. Just focus on your studies and aim for that first-class honours. The best revenge is to succeed despite their efforts to stop you. Continue to work hard and don’t give up. Know that regardless of the outcome, your Ma and I are proud of you and that we love you very, very much.
– Ba[5]
A sob catches at the back of my throat as tears flowed freely down my cheeks. Acute pangs of longing weighed heavily on my chest, making it hard to breathe.
A-Yun[6] ah, if it ever becomes too much to bear at Cardiff, come home. Ma will make you your favourite dishes. I know you want to do well but don’t overwork yourself. Remember to get enough rest and try to change your bad habit of skipping meals. Two boiled eggs alone don’t count as a proper meal either!
– Ma[7]
A sheepish giggle escaped my lips despite the tears, Ma’s exasperated voice ringing in my ears. I could almost picture the look of indignation on her face as she judges my terrible meal choices before proceeding to fill my bowl with steamy boiled dumplings.
Ah…Ma’s famous boiled dumplings…the saltiness of minced pork marinated with soy sauce and sesame oil…the refreshing sweetness of spring onions and carrots contrasting the pork’s saltiness…flecks of finely chopped hei-mu-er adding a chewy texture to the tender meat whilst thin sheets of delicately wrapped dough encapsulated it all…the slight bitterness of the herbal broth complementing the savoury dumplings…[8] My stomach growled in protest as I smiled fondly at the memory.
Wiping away the remaining tears, I unrolled the last strip of paper. Elegant brushstrokes painted familiar characters in horizontal lines. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I recalled sitting on A-Gong’s [9] lap in the garden as kid, watching him practice calligraphy. I remembered how he used to read his poems aloud as I gaze at his hands guiding the bamboo brush across the ivory sheet, entranced by its flowing movements. Each word written was like a piece of art, each stroke of ink painting a meaning of its own.
Tranquil night’s darkness, the moon shines bright,
From the mud the lotus rises, its petals pure despite.
Vermillion red blossom like wildly raging flames;
Elegant, virtuous, delicate, yet exquisitely untamed.
The wise once said that adversity yields flair,
An upright heart, oblique shadows don’t scare.
Dripping water with time wears the stubborn stone,
Sturdy wood too can be cut with rope saws alone! [10]
A strange tranquility wrapped itself around me as I read the poem, A-Gong’s calm and mellow voice resonating in my ears. It was almost as if he was standing right before me with the usual toothless smile and twinkling eyes on his wizen face. Tenderly cradling the small box of sweets, a faint smile graced my lips. Their vermillion red and gold wrappings shone with a certain warmth under the soft light of the moon. Gently unwrapping one of the thumb-size bundles with shaking hands, I popped a disk-like piece into my mouth.
Immediately, a wave of warmth spread throughout my cold and hollowed body, almost as if it was infused with the life-giving heat of home. The familiar tart sweetness of the hawthorn berries cleared the heavy fog that clouded my mind and for the first time in a long while, I felt energy slowly seeping back into my worn-out soul, reigniting the snuffed-out fire within. Strange how something so small, barely the size of my thumb, could bring so much comfort and hope. That night, the moon shone a little brighter than usual, and the normally barren sky seemed to be exploding with billions of twinkling stars.
NOTES
[1] Alina Schartner & Yoonjoo Cho, ‘“Empty signifiers” and “dreamy ideals”: perceptions of the “international university” among higher education students and staff at a British university’, Higher Education, 74 (2017), 455-472
[2] ‘Jie’ means older sister in Chinese
[3] 'Di’ means younger brother in Chinese
[4] 'Mei’ means younger sister in Chinese
[5] ‘Ba’ means father in Chinese
[6] ‘Yun’ is written as ‘云’ meaning ‘cloud’
[7] 'Ma’ means mother in Chinese
[8] Hei-mu-er is the Mandarin term for black cloud ear fungus, a type of mushroom often used in Chinese cuisines.
[9] ‘A-Gong’ means grandfather in Chinese (specifically, the Hainanese pronounciation)
[10] This is a self written and self translated poem I wrote. The original Chinese version can be found here.
[11] ‘Moonlit Sparrow Through Parted Clouds’ is a play on 守得云开见月明 meaning the moon will shine brightly again when the clouds part, and 麻雀虽小五脏俱全 meaning though a sparrow is small, it has all the vital organs.
Author's Notes:
So this is one of my earlier prose pieces from uni (all the way back from first year lol). I don’t usually post prose? Not prose of this length at least. Anyways, I thought I’d take the leap and try posting them online now since I decided to start doing that for my poetry pieces? The rest of my prose pieces throughout uni somehow ended up becoming interlinked with several recurring characters though there are some inconsistencies since they were initially intended as stand-alone pieces rather than a series of somewhat loosely linked short stories. I’ll be posting them in story timeline sequence (or at least as closely to a sequence as I can since I didn’t exactly plan out the timeline of these pieces either) rather than in the sequence it was written in so there might be a slight fluctuation in writing style cuz they do kinda change over the years? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading Part 1~
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Since exams are over and graded and I've officially graduated, I can finally post my work online without having to worry about Turnitin picking it up as plagiarism because apparently you aren't allowed to plagiarise yourself according to university which is absolutely ridiculous but I'm not the one making the rules here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Also, please don't reupload my works without permission.
#ninbayphua 墨彦#prose#short story#I'm new to sharing stories or prose I've written online so please be kind#constructive critisms are always welcomed#please don't repost without permission
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HERE’S WHAT YOU MISSED THIS WEEK (3.10-3.16.21):
NEW MUSIC:
Sadness & Complete Disappointment released their debut EP Fun last Friday. The EP comes with the new single “Oh Rapture!”, which also premiered with a new music video.
Tramp Stamps released a new music video for their songs “1-800-Miss-Ur-Guts.” The song follows their previous single “Sex With Me,” both of which will also be featured on their upcoming EP Make Tampons Free.
Citizen dropped the latest single, titled “Black and Red,” from their upcoming album. The new album Life in Your Glass World is set to be released on March 26 via Run for Cover Records.
Machine Gun Kelly released a new collaboration with internet sensation Corpse Husband last Friday. The song, “Daywalker,” is the former artist’s first piece of new music since the deluxe release of his album Tickets to My Downfall.
YONAKA released a new track titled “Ordinary” last Thursday. The song follows on from their previous single “Seize the Power,” which premiered back in January.
Sullivan King returned with his second track since signing to Hopeless Records titled “Venomous.” The song features vocals from Ice Nine Kills’ lead singer Spencer Charnas.
Stepson released the latest track off of their upcoming album, titled “Who Are We.” Their highly-anticipated album, Help Me, Help You, drops on March 26 via SharpTone Records.
Forgivers released their debut single “Some Future” last Friday. The supergroup is made up of The Gaslight Anthem's Alex Levine and Alex Rosamilia, alongside Jed Winokur of The Ratchets and Trevor Reddell of Let Me Run.
This Wild Life released a brand new track titled “You Swore Your Love Would Burn,” as well as an accompanying Pokémon-themed music video. The duo previously released a cover of the viral hit “Coffee (For Your Head)” by Powfu.
MOD SUN released a new track titled “Heavy” featuring Blackbear yesterday. The song marks the first new music from the former artist since his album Internet Killed the Rockstar was released last month.
The Maine announced they are releasing a new song called “Sticky” this Friday. The song will appear on their new album XOXO: From Love and Anxiety in Real Time, which drops later this year.
DE'WAYNE revealed his collaboration with Waterparks' Awsten Knight, called “Perfume,” will be released this Thursday. The former musician previously teased the collaboration late last year.
After releasing the track a few weeks back, Atreyu released a new music video for their song “Warrior.” The track is taken from the band's upcoming album Baptize, which is scheduled for release on June 4 via Spinefarm Records.
The Wrecks released their first music of 2021 with a track titled “I Want My Life Back Now.” The band previously released their debut album Infinitely Ordinary last year.
TOUR ANNOUNCEMENTS:
The Eden Sessions, a series of concerts set to take place at the Eden Project in Cornwall, England, have postponed all of their upcoming events. One of these events includes My Chemical Romance’s show on June 15.
Enter Shikari revealed the newly rescheduled dates for their tour of the UK and Europe in support of their latest album Nothing is True and Everything is Possible. The tour kicks off in London on December 4 and will continue into February 2022.
Biffy Clyro revealed the rescheduled dates for the “Fingers Crossed Tour.” The short run of shows will now kick off in Liverpool, England, on October 29 and end in Bristol, England, on November 4.
The lineup for Life Is Beautiful Festival, which will take place in Las Vegas this September, was announced. Headliners include Green Day, Billie Eilish and Tame Impala, who will be joined by acts such as All Time Low and many others.
Boston Manor revealed the new dates for their previously postponed Welcome to the Neighbourhood UK tour. The tour will now begin in Newcastle, England, on November 20 and end in Bristol, England, on November 29.
Fall Out Boy are playing a virtual concert on St. Patrick’s Day tomorrow to support the Illinois Restaurant Association Educational Foundation. The band will perform live via Chicago radio station 103.5 KISS FM's YouTube channel.
Yungblud joined forces with Avril Lavigne for a performance of her classic track “I'm With You.” The song was performed as part of the most recent episode of the former artist’s webshow The Yungblud Show.
All Time Low performed their massive hit “Monsters” on Ellen, making it the second time that the band have made an appearance and performed the track on U.S. television. They previously performed on Good Morning America back in October.
OTHER NEWS:
Fall Out Boy’s Joe Trohman announced he will be premiering a new podcast titled I Hate Myself with Joe Trohman. The first episode of the podcast will debut tomorrow and feature actor Seth Green as a guest.
The nominations for this year’s Juno Awards were announced. This year’s nominees include PUP’s EP This Place Sucks Ass for Alternative Album of the Year, as well as Silverstein’s A Beautiful Place to Drown for Rock Album of the Year.
YUNGBLUD's latest album Weird! has been certified Silver in the United Kingdom. The album previously debuted at No. 1 on the UK Albums Chart.
Evanescence announced the details of Echoes From the Void, a new graphic novel anthology series. The first edition will feature tales about their songs “Better Without You” and “Wasted on You,” taken from their upcoming album The Bitter Truth.
Bring Me the Horizon's new song “Teardrops” entered the Top 10 on US Rock Radio. The track is currently at No. 8 wedged between AC/DC's “Realize” and Seether's “Bruised and Bloodied.”
After dropping in September last year, Machine Gun Kelly's Tickets to My Downfall has been certified Silver in the United Kingdom. The recent album is his first to reach certification level.
___
Check in next Tuesday for more “Posi Talk with Sage Haley,” only at @sagehaleyofficial!
#sage haley#posi talk#machine gun kelly#corpse husband#ice nine kills#my chemical romance#fall out boy#yungblud#avril lavigne#mod sun#blackbear#waterparks#all time low#evanescence#sadness & complete disappointment#tramp stamps#citizen#yonaka#sullivan king#stepson#forgivers#enter shikari#biffy clyro#boston manor#pup#silverstein#this wild life#the maine#de'wayne#atreyu
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clean up on aisle seven!
word count: 3.3k
genre: casual fluff :)
summary: you really didn’t want to go on this grocery trip. and now you’re stuck trying to track down that last thing your mom needs while the clock is ticking before she checks out. but something (or someone) might just make you lose track of time.
This is your worst nightmare. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breaths were shallow and staggered, and you could feel droplets of sweat quickly accumulating on your forehead. You’d just suffered finals week and you could definitely say this was the most stressful situation you’d experienced in your life.
This might be where you die.
Actually, if you died now, your mother would drag you back from the grave and kill you again for being so dramatic.
You were standing helpless in the middle of the produce section of your hometown’s grocery store, desperately looking for the red potatoes. And while you frantically scanned for the vegetable- Are potatoes vegetables? Maybe they’re starches. Or a root. It isn’t important. What is important is that you have no clue where they are and your mom is currently in the checkout line, wondering what’s taking so long.
Onions, leeks, asparagus, radishes, cabbage. . .
Maybe you were looking in the wrong place. You circle the aisle, hoping you don’t look like a madwoman as you wring your hands and tug at your hair.
You were a STEM major, for god’s sake! You just crushed your sophomore finals (maybe. probably. you completed them, it’s all that matters), you were not going to let some stupid red potatoes and a fear of abandonment you’ve harbored since childhood distress you in this way.
Spinach, lettuce, carrots, celery. . .
You know, you never should have agreed to go on this grocery trip. Just an hour before now, you’d been comfortable in bed, sleeping in to your heart’s content. But it’s the holidays and you know your mom likes to run her errands with someone and the guilt was just too much. So you let her drag you out of bed and you barely got to brush your teeth before she was dragging you out of the house, too. You probably looked like a wreck. You sure felt like one.
Tomatoes, avocadoes, peppers. . .
Normally by now you’d suck it up and ask an employee for help like the adult you were supposed to be, but, just your luck, the entire section is void of any workers. Honestly, good for them. You’re sure they’re tired of dealing with hopeless idiots like you, anyway.
Garlic, strawberries, blueberries. . .
Who puts garlic next to strawberries? And how did you end up in the fruit section? Even you could do a better job organizing this place. Or maybe you have poor observational skills. You decide not to dwell on which thought is more correct.
You rush back to where you started, begging your eyes to actually work and help you with this one task.
And then: a miracle. Yellow potatoes! You scan the vicinity and...
No red potatoes to be found. Maybe there’s no such thing as red potatoes. Maybe your mom just wanted you to go away for a while. Well, no, that can’t be it. You’re certain you’ve had red potatoes before.
The stress was getting to you. By now, your mom was probably loading her groceries onto the conveyor belt, annoyed at your slow pace and mind.
You know, in many other situations you’d actually consider yourself good under pressure. Put you in a lab coat and in front of a titration and you were a goddamn genius, if you did say so yourself. But once you weren’t poring over textbooks or analyzing data, you felt completely useless. Ask you to cook and you’ll set the kitchen ablaze. Anything more athletic than a casual jog is off the table. Your friends often joke that you can’t even be trusted with a microwave. For good reason. How were you supposed to know those chicken sandwich bags can’t go in the microwave? They’re made of paper.
Other shoppers bristle past you to grab their own groceries, but all you can do is reply with a few murmured “sorries” and stand in the middle of the place looking like a lost puppy. To them, you look utterly distressed. A few shoppers consider asking if you’re okay, but little do they know there’s only one question plaguing your mind.
“Where are the motherfucking red potatoes?!”
You didn’t mean for it to slip out, but at least there’s no one close enough to hear-
A giggle rings from the other side of the waist-high aisle you’ve been staring at. Your eyes slide up to meet the gaze of a boy not too much taller than you- kind of cute too- but the important thing is that he’s staring right at you. Very obviously trying (and failing) to fight an uncontrollable grin on his face.
Your cheeks heat like a furnace. All you can do is stand and stare, caught red-handed cursing over produce at the corner grocery store.
The boy with full, boyish cheeks, twinkling eyes, and a very cute smile that you might consider infectious in any other scenario leans forward on the tips of his toes and peers at the side the aisle you’ve been intently gazing at for the past several minutes. To your horror, he lifts his finger and points just inches from where you were just looking.
“Maybe right there?” It isn’t said sarcastically or with even a hint of ridicule, but despite his genuine nature you only grow more sheepish. You wish you could shrink into your sweatshirt and never come back out.
You lower your eyes to the direction he’s pointing and lo and behold, there are several bags of red potatoes just under your nose.
“Oh. . uh. . Thanks.” You tentatively reach and grab a bag, your eyes not leaving the boy’s face. You can’t help but notice the line forming between his eyebrows and the way he cocks his head to the side. Now, that you think about it, there’s something distinctly familiar about him.
“Wait, Y/N?” Your eyebrows raise, and that seems to be all the confirmation he needs to know that you somewhat recognize him too. “I’m Jimin!” He continues when you don’t respond. “We were best friends when we were, what, six or seven?”
The memories immediately begin rushing back. Though many of your memories from back then have faded, you can remember very distinctly the elementary days full of you and a younger version of the boy across from you causing mischief. More specifically, the two of you thought up increasingly risky pranks to play on your parents and friends until one or both of you got the scolding of a lifetime. You’d nearly completely forgotten about him.
“Yeah, it’s me,” you finally manage. “It’s been a while.” Jimin circles to your side of the aisle.
“Oh my god! When was the last time I saw you?” Jimin thinks for a moment. “Wasn’t it your birthday party? When we hid in the bathroom cabinet and it took them hours to find us!” The memory has the both of you giggling.
“Yeah! My mom would have grounded me for scaring her so badly if it wasn’t my birthday.” The atmosphere is comfortable. Almost as if it had been no time at all.
“I think if anyone was scared, it was you. Weren’t you terrified of the dark?” You blush despite the ridiculousness of his teasing.
“Hey! I talk to you for two minutes after all this time and you’re already back to making fun of me?” Despite their legitimacy, the words carry no malice and you’re grinning from ear to ear. A smirk plays on Jimin’s cheeks and you catch yourself studying his features. It should seem normal, but you’re slightly struck by how much he’s grown up. His baby fat is long gone, replaced with a striking and defined look despite his sweet and boyish features. His brunette locks are neatly cut, his bangs complimenting his cheeks and forming a slight heart shape on his forehead. He’s cute.
If you weren’t so caught up in your own embarrassment, you might have noticed the endeared look he’s giving you as he studies your face at the same time.
“What can I say?” he replies with a shrug. “You’ve always been easy to tease.” You scoff, shifting the bag of potatoes in your arms.
“Speak for yourself, crayon-eater.” Jimin’s giggle is infectious, drawing a snort or two out of you, though you desperately try to play it off as just a cough.
“Where did you end up going? I never saw you after that.”
“Ahh, we moved to the other side of the city. It was pretty sudden.” Jimin nods in understanding.
“I guess you moved again for college, too?” he asks tentatively, gesturing to your sweatshirt. You glance down at the university logo before meeting his eyes again.
“Yeah, I’m just back for the holidays. You?”
“I go to university in the city. Just picking up some groceries for my family. I tend to do our grocery shopping on weekday mornings anyway, since most of my classes are in the afternoon.” You learn that Jimin is a communications major, which you think suits his personality spectacularly. Jimin is not even close to surprised to find out you’ve dedicated yourself in chemistry.
“And to think, just yesterday we were making potions from mud in your backyard. You’re practically a prodigy. Can I get your autograph? You know, for when you become a famous scientist saving the world and all that?” You shake your head, noting that Jimin is just as ridiculous as you remember him.
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you muse. “But I’m leaning more towards education. I’d like to teach high schoolers one day, maybe college students too.” Now that strikes Jimin as a surprise, evident by his shocked expression. You can’t help staring at the way his lips puff out in an unintentional pout.
“Really? You want to deal with those brats? We just left high school and you already want back?” If your mom thought you were a drama queen, Jimin had you beat tenfold. He’d always been a bit of a class clown, always supplying exaggerated expressions and stupid jokes to garner as many laughs as possible. You roll your eyes.
“They’re not that bad.” You pause. “Well, they are pretty bad but I think I could get through it if I knew I could make at least one kid excited about science, you know?” You inwardly cringe at your mini-spiel. Normally once you get talking about your love for chemistry, your friends zone out or casually change the subject to avoid massive boredom. But to your surprise, Jimin doesn’t seem the least bit annoyed at your sappy, nerd-ish outlook on your career. Instead, he’s nodding with you, attentive and interested.
“That’s. . . really nice.” You blush, stopping yourself from going on a further tangent, sure he has much better things to be doing than listening to you go on and on.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” You twiddle your thumbs and Jimin tugs on the sleeves of his oversized sweater. “Do you still have that cat? What did you name him... Snuggles?”
“Chubbles!” he nearly shouts with a massive smile. “And yeah, I do. He’s still overweight as ever. And old as hell. But I love the grumpy thing to pieces.”
“He was so cute! I remember cuddling with him while watching cartoons together.”
“Oh my god, yeah! That was the only time my mom would let me eat in the living room. I swear those waffles tasted better in front of the tv screen.” The story sparks a memory in your mind.
“Hey, wanna know a secret?” Jimin leans in slightly, confused but definitely interested. You pause for effect. “My mom didn’t let us eat in the living room either. I only said that because you wanted to and I thought it’d convince your mom.” Jimin feigns a gasp, putting a hand on his chest.
“Are you serious? I was jealous of you for years after that and it wasn’t even true? You said your family always ate in the living room.”
“I may have exaggerated a lot of things back then in order to impress you.”
“No way. Then do I really know you at all? Was everything a lie?” You find yourself laughing again. Talking with him is easy, like being kids again.
You shrug. “I like to maintain an aura of mystery.” Now Jimin’s the one rolling his eyes at your antics.
“Hey, speaking of Chubbles, do you want to see a picture of him? My mom posted the best picture of him on Facebook the other day.” Jimin whips out his phone. While others might find a college student doting on his cat and his mom’s Facebook a bit dorky, you find it all too endearing.
“Um, of course!” You step towards him to peer at his phone. But instead of cat pictures, all the two of you see is an endless loading screen.
“Shit. My service sucks out here. I’m sorry.” He gives an apologetic look, but you’re quick to brush it off.
“No, it’s okay. You can just send it to me later.” The connotation of your words hit you like a freight train and you’re about to not-so-eloquently take them back, but Jimin beats you, a smile is plastered across his face. A part of you wants to reach up and squish his cheeks together, but you don’t need to create any more reason for the other shoppers to think you’re unhinged. Also, personal space.
“Oh, great. I’ll just get your number-”
“Y/N.” You freeze, your head whipping around behind you to where your mother stands. She glares at you with her hands set on her hips, no groceries in sight.
“Oh, um, oops.” You muster the best smile you can but your mother is anything but amused. “I found the red potatoes!” You hold up the bag that’s been making your arms ache, as if that would magically fix the situation. She scoffs.
“And while you did, I checked out, paid, put the groceries in the car, and realized that we’d already gotten red potatoes. They were just piled under all that sugary cereal you insist on-” Her eyes flicker to the boy standing awkwardly behind you when she lets out a scream of joy. “Park Jimin!” She nearly shoves you aside to wrap him in a hug, instantly recognizing him despite years of not seeing him. Though if Jimin’s mom is active on Facebook, you guess your mom has seen plenty of Jimin via social media. While you stare incredulously at your mother, Jimin is staring at you, internally laughing at your expression.
“How’s your mother? Is she well? Healthy?” Jimin nods with a charming smile.
“Yes, she’s great.” Your mom is clutching Jimin’s hands as if she’s in her seventies and not her forties. Jimin awkwardly shifts his grocery basket to his elbow, but your mom pays no mind to the uncomfortable position he’s in.
“Oh, you’ve grown so much! I can still remember the days when you two were taking baths together!” Your face blanches while Jimin chokes. Knowing the volume of your mom’s voice, you’re sure the entire grocery store knows your and Jimin’s history now. “You know, I was just thinking about your mother the other day. When we were pregnant with the two of you, we-”
“Hey, Mom.” You place a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you think we should get going? The groceries are in the car...”
“Oh! You’re right, sweetie,” she smiles. It seems that all it took was Jimin’s charm (and by charm, you mean standing there with that grin of his) for her to completely forget about your previous transgression. She turns back to Jimin. “It was lovely to see you, dear. Please tell your mother I said hello. We really should have a get-together over the holidays, don’t you think?”
“That sounds like a great idea, Mrs. L/N,” Jimin says, his eyes trailing to you. “Sorry for keeping your daughter. We were reconnecting and lost track of time.”
“You’re too sweet. I’m sure my daughter was the one babbling on about whatever popped into her head next. It’s no wonder she got lost looking for potatoes, she’s so easily distracted. You know, we had to put her on a leash as a child.” Your cheeks flush red while you get the sense that Jimin is enjoying this a little too much, despite his awkward smile.
“Oh...” You can tell he’s doing his best to spare you the mortification, but if anything his efforts to conceal his laughter only make you more eager to end the conversation.
“Uh... Mom... Groceries...”
“Fine, fine. You didn’t seem to care that much when you were flirting in the produce aisle.” Now that is the final straw.
“Mom! Oh my god, let’s just go.” You feel like a teenager again, embarrassed and at your mother’s mercy. “Bye, Jimin! It was nice seeing you!” You grab your mother by the elbow and nearly drag her out of the store, tossing the red potatoes back onto the aisle as you go. You barely catch Jimin’s weak wave as you storm out.
“He really is such a sweet boy, I’ll have to give his mother a call.” Call. That’s right. You forgot to give him your number.
On pure instinct alone, you spring around, abandoning your mother in the parking lot to sprint back inside.
“Y/N? Y/N! Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back! Start the car!” Your mother sighs and shakes her head. You imagine she’s pinching the bridge of her nose and wondering how her child still acts like a seven-year-old chasing after butterflies.
You find Jimin not far from where you left him, skimming through the juices. You do your best not to show how heavy you’re breathing or how you’ve nearly broken a sweat. And you curse yourself for not using the university gym more often. Upon seeing you reappear, Jimin’s face lights up, albeit somewhat confused.
“Oh, hey.” He holds up two jugs of orange juice. “Pulp or no pulp?” You freeze for a moment.
“Pulp. Obviously.” Jimin nods in agreement, putting the jug in his basket. He looks at you expectantly. “And I forgot to give you my number.” You quickly catch yourself. “For that Chubbles pictures.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.” Jimin’s hand rises to the back of his neck nervously as you punch the digits into his phone, making a contact for yourself. If your friends saw you now, they’d think you’d been replaced by aliens or finally gone over the edge. But something in you just had to do it.
“Send me that picture, yeah?” You hand him back his phone.
“Of course.” Jimin gives you a salute, making you giggle shamelessly again. With nothing more to say, you spin on your heel and speed walk out of the store to be mercilessly interrogated by your mother.
Jimin shakes his head and smiles to himself as he watches your retreating form. He makes a mental note to go through his mom’s scrapbooks to find a childhood photo of you two to use as your profile picture.
While your mom is berating you for wasting time and questioning your intentions with Jimin, you couldn’t be happier, grinning from ear to ear. Didn’t Jimin say he did the grocery shopping on weekday mornings?
“Y/N, are you listening to me?” You nod vigorously, which is enough for her when she switches to ranting about gas prices nowadays.
But in reality, you’re not listening at all. You’re planning your next grocery trip.
At least next time you’ll know where to find the motherfucking red potatoes. Though you doubt you’ll need to remember. Something tells you Jimin will remember this for a long time too.
#bts#jimin#jimin x reader#jimin fluff#bts scenario#jimin scenario#bts fluff#kind of boring but short and sweet (i hope)
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69 works just fine
Summary: You challenge Henry about the infamous 69 Position and he is keen on showing you how very wrong you are.
Prompt:
69ing with Henry?
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (No description of body type or ethnicity)
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: 18+, RPF, oral sex, both ways oral sex, 69, need I say more? Graphic description of sex and bodily fluids, soft daddy kink, light brat/daddy dynamic.
*No permission is given for reposting, translating or copying my work.
N/A: This wasn't an easy one to write, so I hope it doesn't suck (pun intended), not beta'd. I will die on my mistakes just like August slipping off a cliff, colliding with a hook and landing into an explosion. Just for the record, it does work just fine. ;) 💖 Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 💖
69 works just fine
January mornings were the worst; the alluring heat of Henry's body turned the bed into a warm, pillowy fortress that none could escape from. Not that you ever wanted to. For all you cared, the sun could rise and set a dozen times more, lounging in bed next to that large bear of a man was a piece of heaven on earth.
11 a.m, and there you were, enveloped by the duvet with your spine pressed to the side of Henry's bare body. The large man hummed a soft melody as he flipped through the pages of his book, occasionally grazing a tender thumb over the base of your nape. Still groggy, you purred in response and flexed your shoulders like a playful kitten, your tired eyes remained glued to your phone while you thumbed through the social media’s void.
Your quiet morning was abruptly disturbed by the loud buzz of your device. A new incoming message made its way to the infamous "ladies" group chat and without giving it too much of a thought, you tapped the notification open. The soft vibration drew Henry’s attention at once. Tilting his head over his shoulder, he frowned and arched a baffled eyebrow at an overwhelmingly explicit spectacle of a woman riding a man's face while simultaneously sucking his cock.
"So that's what you girls send one another all day, ha?"
Hot blood rushed to your cheeks.
It wasn't that you were ashamed of watching porn, Henry was mature and educated enough to know women are just as mischievous as men if not more, but never in your life did you imagine getting caught by your boyfriend.
If only he knew of your Tumblr account. Then you'd surely die of humiliation.
Quickly ticking the screen shut, you pressed the phone to your chest and turned to glare at Henry. "You were not supposed to see that!" A shy grin piqued your cheeks. Embarrassed, you sought for something to say in order to sway his attention. "It's bullshit anyway."
Rather amused by your reaction, he smiled back. His sturdy hand slid from your spine to your ass and began to knead it playfully.
"What's bullshit, love? The gif?"
"69. It looks nice in porn, but it's fake. You can’t really please someone while being pleased."
Henry’s pale gaze lingered upon your face for a silent moment, scrutinising you back and forth in an odd manner that made you feel as if you were speaking nonsense. With a small huff, he averted his eyes back to the book and casually shot out, "no, it's not.”
‘What was that?’
The candid tone of his response brought a deep frown to your face. Setting the phone on the nightstand, you turned toward Henry's side and forced the book from his fingers.
"And how exactly would you know?"
"How would you know it's bullshit?" A whimsical, daring glint lit his eyes.
Playfully, you groaned and punched his chest, which merely made him chuckle before his hand snapped around your wrist and, with less than a scant effort, hauled your naked body on top of his and forced you to straddle his taut torso.
"Tsk, tsk, spitfire, behave, or daddy will have to do something about that bratty attitude."
You did your best to wring free from his rigid snare, helplessly squirming like a worm caught on a hook, though your battle short-lived as quickly you realised there was no escape from Henry’s unfathomable strength. Throughout your struggle, he hardly moved a muscle, simply eying you with still amusement sparking his gaze.
Bested by the physical superiority of this ‘giant’, you slumped into his grip, offering a sweet apologetic smirk to which Henry grinned with arrogant triumph, but something else swirled within those pale sapphires - a dark leer you learned to recognise over the last couple of years.
Glimpsing over your shoulder, you spotted his shaft fully thick and swollen with desire. Immediately you clenched, your cove slippery with dew as you thought about this hardened beast spearing inside you.
“Daddy…” you whispered longingly.
Still capturing your wrist, Henry tightened his grip, his long fingers nearly seared your flesh. “How about I’ll show you how much you’re wrong,” he licked his lip, “come sit on my face and suck my cock.”
A tantalising shiver coursed through you, yet you hesitated; this position wasn’t something you tried before, and you were uncertain of how were you supposed to manoeuvre on top of his face.
“I don’t know how…” you blurted out coyly.
“Just sit on my face, darling.” He reassured with a smile and then gently guided you to crawl toward his head and turn to face his groin where his cock hung vast in anticipation. Warm palms slid down your hips to your ass, lightly squeezing as your apex hovered mere inches above his lips.
Weakened by the pressing need, you moaned. The warmth of his breath fumed against your entrance with every huff he made, the delightful sensation softened your mind, though there was a task at hand and being his good girl, you aimed to please.
Opening your eyes, you reached a hand to seize his imposing cock.
“Yes, baby,” Henry groaned, enjoying the clasp of your fingers as they ran up and down his length. “Go ahead, give him a kiss.”
You milked him in your grasp, enjoying the silky tenderness of his flesh and the pulse against your palm. Opaline droplets of lust seeped from the heart-shaped crown, inviting you to lower your head to taste them. Tempted like a curious virgin, you followed your urges and dipped your tongue against the little slit.
"Good girl." The low growl that pushed from his throat, reverberated against your dripping hole along with the shudder of his breath, it brought a quake to your knees that would have made you collapse had he not gripped around your thighs.
You were ready to assume victory and prove to him that you were right about your early statement, had you had a single coherent thought left in your mindless brain right now. All that coursed through your mind right now was the idea of having him fill each orifice in your body and thus you welcomed him into your wet, velvety cavern.
Keen to win the debate, Henry hurried to taste you as well. Lifting his head, he collided his mouth against your dripping cunt in a blistering, passionate kiss, sliding his tongue inside you before you had to beg.
Overwhelmed by his invasion into your narrow channel, you moaned around his shaft, further pushing your head to dutifully suckle his cock while Henry devoured you with great hunger. Sweaty fingers burned into your thighs, his tongue swirled and drank your elixir as if you were a feast for the gods.
A symphony of muffled moans filled the bedroom, sweat and saliva mingled in joy as you fell into a carnal dance. Whatever came from your throat was hardly human, but a muffle of incoherent mumbles brought by the graze of his short stubble against your inner thighs and the slippery serpent that continued to glide into you.
Molten fire flowed from within your womb, cascading down to the seams of your slit as Henry drew his lips back and forth to lick and kiss your swollen mound, breaking away only for split second to gasp a desperate curse and then assail your cunt once more.
Pushed beyond reasoning, mouth full of his girth, you lost all manner of rhythm, lips latching around his cock, you sucked him with the vigour of a deranged succubus claiming a victim. What started as lovers' gyrate now felt like a battle. Both of you fought to hold onto the control that was far lost as you neared euphoria.
Already thickening on your tongue, Henry insisted on bringing this bring this quarrel to an end. Wickedly he drew his mouth further along your lips, capturing your clit, and suckling it until it swelled and just as your pleasure reached its crescendo and your entire body shook, slammed his tongue back into your core.
A whole spectrum of colours and lights blinded your eyes; body trembling with ecstasy, you felt a whirlwind of pleasure coiling in your womb. As climax continued to assail you, you loosened your throat providing him with the perfect passage. Henry bucked his hips and trusted into your mouth a couple of times until he cried out with pleasure and filled your mouth with his cum.
Drained of your strength, you swallowed his hot seed and let out an aching grunt of pleasure. Your body, no longer able to support you allowed you to collapse. You rested your head upon Henry's sweat-slicken thigh and drew circles onto a soppy patch of hair.
Breathless as he was, he managed to let out a dry chuckle, which cost him in the heaving of his chest. With your groin now perched on his shoulder, he ran a hand across your ass.
“So..." he uttered, taking a deep breath, "seems like it works just fine."
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Education.
not mine. Credit to OG creator.
Sweet Coco puff has been on my mind, so here’s this. It’s sweet smut. Enjoy, home girls! I’m toying with a mini series for this - maybe...
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Being with Coco was more of an education than school could have ever offered.
Your lessons came in the middle of the night - taught in silence as you clean his cuts and iced his bruises. The final exam was washing blood that wasn’t his from his jeans and hiding guns in your attic - making them disappear in buried boxes. Passing each test brought you closer to graduation, or so you thought, but Coco kept you in school. Being his old lady was never a finished lesson.
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He made no attempt to be quiet as he kicked off his boots and hung his cut by the door. Exhaustion wore heavy on his shoulders. He shed his clothes like Hansel’s breadcrumbs as he walked to the bedroom - the door cracked, soft light puddling on the floor.
He leaned against the door frame - his gaze falling on your sleeping frame. A lazy smile crept across his face as he realized you were sleeping in his flannel - you always did when you missed him. You said it was like holding a piece of him when he wasn’t there. Coco held his breath as you rolled over - the blanket slipping, revealing lace panties and naked legs. He licked his lips - the sight of your body quickening his heartbeat. He had never dreamed of a life like he had with you. You filled his home with apple cinnamon candles, throw pillows, and leftovers in the fridge. He didn’t feel worthy, but you never made him second guess himself. You didn’t shy away from the ugly and Coco had a lot of ugly.
The sheets felt warm against his skin, warm from your body. His hands pulled you close, wrapping himself around you, clinging to your peace.
“When did you get home?” Your voice hummed in the darkness - soft and sweet from sleep. Your body relaxed into his lanky frame. There was no answer except for his slender fingers slowly unbuttoning the shirt - making quick work of the half-buttoned flannel. Like a reflex, you turned to face him - the flannel falling open to reveal a naked frame.
His hands slid softly around your neck - his thumbs caressing your cheeks as your eyes fluttered opened. “Papi.” A lazy smile slid over your face as you leaned into him. The kiss was gentle as he held you still - his lips soft against yours. Each time he kissed you, it felt new. Coco always felt privileged to kiss you and he reminded you with every touch.
You shrugged off the shirt. Your breath catching at the cool air - goosebumps spreading over your skin. Your fingers wrapped through his loose curls, pulling ever so slightly, as you deepened the kiss. Sleep faded away as desire rushed in its place. You pulled back, lips swollen, and stared into his dark eyes, clouded with lust and exhaustion. Your fingers danced across his tattoos - sliding to his bulge, rubbing him through the fabric. A moan slipped past his lips - his usual cool demeanor breaking at your touch.
“I missed you.” You spoke into the air as you pulled his waistband, inching the boxers down his body.
“Show me how much.” You held his gaze as you flicked your tongue over the tip of his cock. You flattened your tongue as you took all of him - gagging as you sucked in your cheeks, sliding up and down his shaft. You watched as his head fell back and his body went limp - caving under your mouth. Saliva fell from your mouth as you choked, gasping for air - his girth filled your throat, but you would have gladly suffocated on his dick if this was how you were meant to end.
You slid your tongue across his top a final time as you sat up, moving closer to the sated Mayan.
“Do you see how much I missed you?” You straddled him - your arousal slicking his leg. “I tried myself, but it doesn’t feel like you.” You whispered your omission as you sank onto him - the stretch holding your breath as your pussy clenched around him. You sat still - his hand massaged your breast, his fingers expertly rolling your nipples into hardened peaks as you rocked against him helplessly.
“Mami,” His signature rasp pleaded as he thrust into you - his hand sliding over your throat, pulling you closer to his assault. As much as you loved sweet and slow love making that left you warm, you loved fucking even more - it left you raw and wanting. There was never enough of Coco. He held you close - his fingers gripping your throat with just enough pressure for stars to dance across your eyes as he fucked you mercilessly from beneath.
The erotic sounds of skin against each other filled the room as you begged for a release. Your hips matched his thrusts - your ass bouncing against his tattooed legs. His dark eyes watched the intimate connection - him sliding between your warm folds as you begged him for more. “Johnny, please.” You rocked back - the new angle forcing him deeper into you. With each thrust, you fell closer and closer to the edge.
Your walls clenched around him as his fingers rubbed your clit - the pressure forcing an orgasm from your body. You felt him deep inside as he twitched - releasing into you as you gushed against him - your bodies silk with sweat and sticky, sweet love.
You laid flat against his chest - breathing in unison and still connected in the electrified air. His fingers traced your spine. Your skin tingling from pleasure and over sensitivity. You felt him swallow hard, as if he were swallowing the words he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
“You okay?” The words fell into the darkness as you rolled beside him - sighing at the emptiness.
Coco rolled to face you, licking his lips as he gazed at your soft features. Words escaped him - they always did. He never said much, but his actions spoke in full sentences. His arms snaked around you and he pulled you close - filling a void you couldn’t see. Your fingers slid through his loose curls - raking your nails across his scalp as his breathing slowed. Sleep came for him quickly as he nuzzled your neck - your scent was melatonin. You closed your eyes, holding the troubled Mayan close - grateful you had passed another test.
#johnny coco cruz#johnny coco cruz x reader#Mayans MC#mayansmc fanfiction#mayans fanfic#mayans fx#mayans headcanons
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The Conversations - part 1/3
Pairing: Namjoon x OC; Yoongi x OC; Jungkook x OC
Wordcount: 2.6k words
Genre: slice of life
Rating: suggested 18+ (Discussion of NSFW topics)
Hi lovelies! Here comes that new format I mentioned earlier this week. I imagined how the guys would discuss their girlfriends, having “The Chat” about kinks and habits, just talking, asking for advice and giving each other tips.
The first conversation is between Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook, talking about their girlfriends, respectively Kitten, Vixen and Candy.
There’s a little bit of everything (angst, fluff, smut), also, there’s a reference to Yoongi’s scenario in Magic Touch, I’ll just move on to disclaimers and trigger warnings.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of smut, oral (m/f giving/receiving), Jeongguk is whipped AND horny, various levels of filth (quickies, phonesex, boobjobs, bondage, waxplay, cumplay, spankings, daddy kink -- I AM SO FUCKING SORRY, THAT WAS SO SELFISH OF ME -- pornography, sex toys, blindfolds, breathplay and choking, sensation play, impact play, exhibitionism/voyerism), communication issues, mentions of premature ejaculation, past traumas and general traumatic experiences, Yoongi and tongue technology (do I even need to say this?) Namjoon is, quoting Yoongi, “a beast”. Final fondness.
Here you can find my masterlist!
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Jungkook came out of his room with his head hanging low, heading straight for the terrace outside the kitchen. There Namjoon and Yoongi were drinking their morning coffee. It was roughly six am, a smoky dawn calling London awake. The summery hotness and the usual humidity announced another day of sweating and emptying water bottles.
Jeongguk’s hyungs, talking quietly, were in perfectly symmetrical positions, elbows propped on the railing on the edge of the terrace, holding the cups in their hands, looking at the mild sunshine foreshadowing an orange dawn.
“‘Morning.” They both turned.
“Morning Jeonggukie,” said Yoongi, slightly more reactive.
“Morning JK,” greeted Namjoon. “You headed to the gym?” He asked, not noticing the fact that Jeongguk was still in his pjs.
“I just called Candy.” He settled himself beside Joon.
“She all right?” Namjoon asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Sort of. We fought a couple weeks before I left.” He dragged his hands roughly in his hair. “I just miss her a lot.”
“You’ve been dating for two months or something, right?” Yoongi asked.
“Yeah. We were quite new.” He replied.
“What do you miss of her?” Joon asked, sipping some coffee afterwards.
“Hyung, like. It’s a lot to unpack. We, you know...”
Namjoon gave him a side glance, his lips turning into a smirk. “You mean you’ve slept together.”
Yoongi struggled not to smile.
“A couple times.” Jeongguk admitted. He toyed with his fingers. “And then a lot.”
Yoongi couldn’t hold back a snort. “It’s okay.” He put down his cup on the wide edge of the balcony. “At the beginning you can’t ever let go.” He remembered the first weeks after he and his girlfriend had started being more physical. “The first times with Kitten… God.” He brushed his palm down his face. “I was a mess.”
“A good mess or a bed mess?” Namjoon asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t even know.” He laughed. “It was never enough.” He thought about the last time they facetimed. “Any spare moment was with her. Damn, I was down for anything. Quickies at lunch, calling her when I was done with practice to have phonesex, seeing her at three am just to get off the high.”
“Vixen’s a sucker for late night sex.” Joon offered to fill in the silence. “But she’s always game. Her sex drive is seriously impressive.”
“And you love it, don’t you, old sport?” Yoongi teased.
“I love many, many things of her.” Namjoon said before laughing.
The three stayed silent for a while.
“I miss sucking her tits.” Jeongguk murmured out of the blue.
Namjoon and Yoongi also stared into the void, lost in their own thoughts. After a few seconds Namjoon reconnected and looked at the youngest. “What the fuck, man?”
Yoongi licked his lips, then opened his mouth a couple times just to close it again, trying to find words.
“I mean, they’re so soft. And the shape is...” Jeongguk pressed his fingertips to his eyelids.
Yoongi emitted a strange sound.
“Are you okay, hyung?” Namjoon asked.
“Sorta. It’s just. Yeah, tits are great.” He said, half unconsciously, blinking in silence. “I mean, Kitten has a nice pair.”
“Am I the only ass man in this conversation?” Namjoon turned to look at both men, finding no sympathy.
“Vixen does have an incredible bum, sorry hyung if I looked.” Koo admitted.
“It’s okay, I also looked at Candy’s chest, but I swear it was not intentional.” Namjoon confessed.
“Do you think we’ll have some free time after the tour?” Yoongi murmured.
“Are you planning on fucking Kitten for, like, a week straight?”
“Sorta.”
“I just wanna die between Vixen’s thighs.” Namjoon whispered, lost in his train of thought.
“Send her to Hongkong?” Yoongi asked ironically.
“I mean, I hope we’re all in the oral team. Hyung, you for sure.”
“Loud and proud, boy.” Yoongi quipped back.
“JK?” Namjoon asked.
“Yeah.” He replied, still lost in his own imagination. “Hyung, have you ever tied Vixen up?”
“No. Usually we get too caught up.” Namjoon took another sip of his coffee, but unfortunately his cup was empty. “Do you want some?” Joon asked Jeongguk, pointing at his cup.
“No, but could you get me some OJ, please?”
“Got you.” He went back to the kitchen.
“Are you thinking of playing with Candy?” Yoongi asked carefully.
“Don’t know. It would be new. As Namjoon hyung said, we also get too caught up, so I think I’ll need to plan it out, if we ever decide to.”
“Talk about it with her.” Yoongi recommended. “You should ask her what she likes. And tell her about what you like.”
Namjoon was back. “We doing the whole kink talk?”
“Just making sure that the kid knows about communication.”
“Right.” Namjoon nodded, handing Jeongguk his glass of juice.
“Did you and Vixen have the talk?” Yoongi asked, honestly curious. Namjoon’s girlfriend was a bit of a wildcard, looking classy and educated, but also endearingly nerdy, fond of nature and hopelessly in love with her boyfriend. Each time he saw how Namjoon melted everytime she cuddled and reassured him, Yoongi really hoped that the boy would understand how precious she is, how rare it is to be in love like that.
“We did. She was like ‘oh, yeah, by the way, would you mind spanking me every now and then?’”
Yoongi giggled. “I can only imagine your reply.”
“I think it was something like ‘that’s okay but would you put up with my daddy kink?’”
Yoongi positively squealed at that. Jeongguk was similarly amazed.
“But with her it’s like-- It’s so strange to explain. I guess the best way to say it is that half of the sex is mental.” He should have avoided the second cup of coffee. But it was already there. “It’s the talking. Putting her in the right mindset, making her feel loved on the brain.”
“Good thing you're smart, hyung.” Jeongguk said. “I would have zero chances.”
“It’s not being smart.” Namjoon replied, “It’s more of a-- connection.”
“I think that you having this… dominant, but also nourishing role really puts her into a mindset of full trust.” Yoongi commented.
“I think so.” Namjoon concluded. “And then the sex is mindblowing. Like, I get why everyone is so obsessed with it. Our limits are very similar, and in that we don’t feel like we’re limiting or pressing each other into things.”
“That’s good. But exploring can be fun.” Yoongi argued. “Kitten’s sensitive chest made me get into things I never thought I would explore.”
Namjoon again raised an eyebrow.
“Come on, hyung give me some ideas.” Jeongguk teased.
“You tits freak.” Yoongi joked playfully. “Hickeys, but that’s obvious. And a lot of mouth activity in general. Oh, boobjobs.”
“God, does that work?” Namjoon was skeptical.
“Depends. Lots of lube, and the right angle. Kitten puts her mouth on the head, that’s the trick.”
“That sounds incredible.” Jeongguk commented, saving the idea in a corner of his mind.
“Trust me, it is. We’re also dealing with a bit of a choking kink, but we’re approaching it carefully, Kitten tends to panic when she feels like she’s suffocating. And waxplay.”
“That’s a nice one.” Namjoon commented.
“Still getting into it. But she’s liking it a lot. We got the candle a couple weeks before tour. Used it twice. I can’t help but think about it.” He smiled, thinking about how Kitten had enjoyed experimenting that night, how loud she had been when she’d come apart, how she had curled up in a ball at his side, happy and sated, his own body spooning her. He missed his woman, missed the calm she carried around with her, missed her little voice, but also her whispering sweet nothings to him, petting his hair while he was falling asleep. In general, sleeping was way harder without her, his body waking up exhausted, his mind frail because he did sleep but he did not rest. He felt constantly restless.
“I really wanna try that too. But what about toys? Like I was thinking nipple clamps?” Jeongguk asked, his ears blushing a little.
“That kind of stuff must be tried together. The first few times Vixen and I experimented, we usually shopped together, so that we could understand what kind of sensation she could handle, what she would like, and what wasn’t her thing.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for example, if Candy is very sensitive, you should avoid clamps and go for tweezers, where you can pick the amount of pressure you want to put there. And that’s in term of pinching. Considering what you said about sucking, probably she could enjoy pumps. These days there’s pretty much anything, if you’re willing to look for it.”
“Toys, uh?” Yoongi questioned.
Namjoon lifted his shoulders. “You recommended experimenting. I like watching her. I’m really visual, so I like watching stuff.”
“Like movies?” Jeongguk asked. “Like watching them together? Adult movies?”
“Yeah, sometimes that too. Vixen’s very visual too. And we like finding inspiration every now and then.”
“By the way thanks for the advice, Kitten loved it.” Yoongi smiled like the cat that got the cream.
“You’re welcome.” Namjoon winked at him.
“I think I could try that, with Candy. It’s just that I get so shy about it. That’s why we fought.”
“You fought because you’re shy?” Yoongi asked.
“It actually started because I couldn’t look at her while she, uhm- While I was in her mouth?” Jeongguk shrinked into his shoulders. “Then it got bad because she said I never really look at her and she feels like I don’t like her, like I wished I were doing that with someone else. Which is absolute bullshit.” He looked upset.
Namjoon placed a hand between Koo’s shoulder blades. “You’ll work that out. If you really love her then the two of you will find a way around it.”
“Blindfolds?” Yoongi suggested.
“How?” Namjoon questioned, interested.
“I don’t know, maybe he’ll find confidence if he’s not feeling watched.”
“Hyung, I think that’s not it.” Jeongguk claimed, almost frustrated. “She wants to be watched by me.”
“Then why don’t you watch?”
“I’m afraid I’ll like it too much,” he said, brows knitted together. “That I’ll just last too little. I’m afraid she’ll judge me for what I like, for how I react.”
“The first time Vixen put her mouth on me I lasted literally two minutes.”
“Anytime Kitten puts her mouth on me I last literally two minutes.”
Both men laughed and high-fived each other.
Jeongguk smiled at the exchange. Seeing them like this made him really feel like anything could be fixed. They had found the right balance with their girlfriends, being in love and happy. He could have that too. Talking with Candy couldn’t be that bad if that's how he would feel afterwards. And probably Candy really wanted to have that conversation too, since she often asked him if he liked what she was doing, if he could show her how to do things right. He might get off in two minutes but if it were for him, he would probably feel proud if Candy couldn’t last two minutes below him. Candy would probably feel happy that he enjoyed it that much.
“Listen, no matter what they say, having too much stamina is not always that good. Vixen’s got a dollmouth. It’s so tiny it’s almost ridiculous. Lovely. Sometimes I feel like crying about it." His expression was getting dreamy." "But I’m going off at a tangent here. What I mean is that it’s physically tiring for her. Actually for most people. Jaw hurts, throat burns, gag reflex sucks, tongue cramps, anything.”
Yoongi nodded.
“And I’m sure your stamina is impressive, which means, maybe you’ll last two minutes in her mouth but hey, there’s second round.” He opened his arms in front of him, almost spilling the coffee.
“And third.” Said Yoongi. “If need be. Kitten needs minimum two.”
Namjoon groaned. “Vixen’s like… either a very good, powerful one, or a whole session. That’s when the toys come into help. With her it’s not a matter of how many but of how often. It goes from three or four times a week to everyday.”
“Good thing you’re a beast.” Yoongi commented.
“I do my best.” Namjoon replied honestly. “And again, it’s not like only fucking. Sometimes foreplay is just enough, you know.”
Yoongi nodded. “I could eat Kitten out just for the sake of it. Sometimes I don’t even need to fuck her, the pleasure is all in watching her.”
"I like watching Candy, when she cums. It's that whole look." He circled his open hand in front of his face. "And she said she likes watching me too. That's why she wanted me to… look at her."
"She probably feels empowered by it. Kitten likes feeling powerful when she gets me going. Same reason why I love eye contact when I eat her." Yoongi's voice was absolutely neutral, as if it were a mere clinical statement.
Jeongguk’s voice was tiny. “I’ve never eaten Candy out.” But God, if he wanted to...
Namjoon turned, alarmed but trying to keep it cool, sensing his discomfort.
“It’s always felt like she didn’t want it. Anytime I tried going there with my mouth, she’d drag me up towards her face. I seriously don’t get it.”
“You must talk it out, Ggugie.” Yoongi confirmed. “People have traumas, bad experiences, shitty exes -- and it might be her case. Kitten had never been eaten out before me. Said her ex didn’t like the taste. It took us a while, a blindfold and a lot of safewording to get through it.”
“Thanks, hyung.” Jeongguk replied.
“It’s okay, man.” By now the sun was rising. In a couple minutes the whole house would be awake, Jimin’s feet would pad softly on the plush carpet, his eyes still half closed from sleep. Jin would start moving kitchenware around, making a lot of noise to cook breakfast. Hobi would appear shirtless to grab his food and eat it on the sofa, chatting with his family or friends on the phone. Lastly Taehyung’s yawn would finally signal the beginning of their day.
“It’s beautiful.” Namjoon murmured, watching the sun rise.
“I really hope Candy comes back to me.” He thought about her tender smile, the one she had on her face after their first time. He thought about how she talks so soft in the morning, how she always texts him before going to bed. The mug in the kitchen that he had bought for her, the spare toothbrush in his bathroom at home. The smell of her shampoo, just perfectly sweet. Her legs tangled in his sheet. Her underwear smelling like his fabric softener. The way her mouth moves when she says his name. He missed it all.
“She’ll come back.” Namjoon enveloped an arm around his friend. “She loves you.”
“I hope I find someone that loves me like Vixen loves you.” He confessed.
“She’s special.” Joon’s eyes watered a little.
“Indeed she is,” Yoongi confirmed.
“Just like Kitten to you, hyung.” Joon looked at Yoongi. He looked truly emotional.
“Kitten’s a masterpiece.” He sniffled and put his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, lightly leaning in.
“A few days and we’ll be back to the girls. And it will be okay again.” Namjoon encouraged them, his dimpled smile hopeful at the rise of dawn.
#bangtan sonyeondan#bts imagine#bts headcanons#bts scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenario#namjoon imagine#namjoon scenario#yoongi imagine#yoongi scenario#bts conversation
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