#god my cat is sitting next to me snoring he is so fucking SWEET

[k-marzolf]

Restart.

A Monsters in the Dark Drabble.

Warnings; angst, mentions of Billy’s bad childhood and reader’s, language, fear of attachments, kissing, possessive behavior, fem!reader.

I’ve rewritten this more times than I can count, so I’m posting it for better or for worse.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

x

And I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart.

You knew you shouldn’t have been, but you were snooping in his office. You wanted to know where he went every week. It wasn’t your business, but curiosity killed the cat.

You ended up finding a picture of a woman and what presumably was Billy as a child. He was cute, you thought unable to tear your gaze away from the photo. He had her eyes, but neither were smiling in the photo.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Billy stood at the door looking thunderous.

“I just—“ you began, head snapping up.

“Get. Out.” He snarled, cutting you off, snatching the photo out of your hand, his face contorted in fury.

“Wanted to know Billy.” You whispered, brushing past him, your throat burning with the effort to keep from crying.

“By invading my privacy?” He seethed from behind you. You sniffed, and god Billy almost pulled you into his arms, knowing what you’d been through with your father.

But he didn’t need or want your pity.

He was going to kick you out, you just knew it. You began making contingency plans. You wouldn’t be homeless again with nowhere to go, you swore.

x

“Billy’s mad at me,” you whispered into your tea, sitting with Curtis.

“He’ll cool off. He just doesn’t want your pity. Billy’s very independent that way.” Curtis said, having coffee himself.

“I don’t, though. My daddy didn’t want me, either. If anything I felt understood, but I’ve gone and blown it.” You said, keeping out that you’d been sleeping with Billy.

Your chest ached knowing you’d have to sleep on your own tonight. That the memories of your father would likely resurface, scaring you. You chewed your lips until they were bloody.

Curtis extended his leg, he looked like he was in pain. “Don't chew your lips,” he scolded, lightly dabbing at the blood there. You had a habit of worrying at your lips, something Curtis often scolded you for, “Want me to talk to him?” He asked, pulling the cloth away from your lips.

“No, it’ll make it worse.” You said, finishing your tea.

Curtis hummed, “It’ll be okay, Billy’s stubborn but I can tell he cares about you, even if he doesn’t say. He’s not good with emotions.” He explained sipping his coffee.

You hoped Curtis was right, because you’d grown to care for Billy, even knowing he wasn’t entirely good, and made his living out of violence.

You trusted him, and even as angry as he got, he hadn’t struck you. He’d been controlled.

You only wished his anger hadn’t hurt so much. A curse of feeling everything strongly, everything felt so deeply.

x

Billy couldn’t fucking sleep. The image of your eyes filled with tears stuck in his head, that he’d caused them. But more than that he missed your warm body next to his, the feeling of your even breaths, and soft snores, the way you played with the scar at his hip before you went to sleep every night. You always had a fixation with it.

You were the only woman he’d let into his bed. It was his one safe space, but he hadn’t been able to turn you away that night you’d begged to sleep with him.

And now he was attached to you. The very thing he hated, because it meant he could be vulnerable again. Sometimes he wanted to cut his heart out, it would make life so much easier.

The woman who was supposed to love him, had abandoned him. The most important relationship he’d ever have in his formative years. His fingers fisted his duvet seeing your sweet face in his mind again.

But god he liked you. He still had the lavender under his pillow that you got him.

“Fuck this,” he hissed, throwing his duvet off. He wanted you in any capacity you’d have him. There was nothing to think about.

x

You laid in bed that night in the guest room, trying not to see your father in the shadows as you usually did, his shadow still hanging over you, frightening you years after his attempt on your life.

You hid under the covers letting out a shaky breath. He’s not here, you told yourself. He can’t get you. You chanted over and over, but a tingle of fear trickled down your spine, making it hard to breathe.

You screamed when you heard someone knock on your doorframe. You peeked out from the covers, “Billy?” You asked, shaking.

“Who else?” He asked not unkindly, his hair mussed from laying on it. “Come to bed,” he said hoarsely, as though he hadn’t gotten much sleep, either.

You hesitated and he ached at your reluctance, “I’m not mad anymore, sweet pea.” He said seeing you shake, before you threw off your duvet, and followed him into his room. When you climbed in, he pulled you against him, stroking your spine, burying his face in your hair. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he rasped, surprising himself. He rarely apologized. But he realized he valued you.

You kissed his mouth, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been snooping around.” You mumbled against his lips.

Billy’s fingers dug into your hips, “I just wanna love Billy. Every part of him, even the parts he’d rather forget.” You continued, trying to make him understand.

Billy ached at that. His own mother hadn’t loved him, how could you? You kissed him again, soft and slow making him groan softly, tasting the toothpaste on your tongue.

And just like that the ache in Billy’s heart eased in the wake of your kisses, sweet and yielding.

“You’re mine.” He rasped, making your heart leap with hope.

“You promise?” You asked softly, minty breath blowing over his face.

“I promise.” He said, kissing your forehead, before tucking you under his chin.

And after hours of fighting for sleep, you both fell asleep at two in the morning.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

[imaginethatimaginethis]

What do you think hyungwon and reader talked abt that one time when reader went to his room during that thunder storm ? I think hyungwon has this soft spot towards reader, although i think every one of the member has a soft spot for her

hmmm… let’s find out..

pairing: Hyungwon x Reader

✨🧡✨

Tapping your way into Hyungwons room, which was right next to yours, you slowly opened his door without trying to wake anyone up and hearing you. A sly creaking sound escaped the door as you tried very hard to open the door in slow motion.

Another flash and thunder erupted in the sky which made you jump, but trying to keep your cool and not make it seem like you’re the biggest scary cat because of a thunder, you shook it off.

“come in and close the door already. The storm is not going to attack you” Hyungwons voice made you jump for a second time. He was standing right next to his bed, throwing some pillows on it, probably for you to lay on.

“can you not be so loud please. Why are you yelling” you hissed. Annoyed, you closed the door behind you, entering his room and hurriedly walking towards his bed and throwing yourself on it to get under his blanket.

“oh man, get up i’m not done with my bed” you looked up and formed your mouth to an o shape and immediately got up from his bed, helping him place the sheets on your side and placing another pillow in the middle. Another stormy sound in the distance as you looked shocked at Hyungwon who just grinned at you.

“do you want snacks? i have some here i-“ you nodded. “yes i want” He just smiled at you and gestured his hand towards you to make yourself comfortable in his bed again. He bend down to open his drawer and picked out some snacks while you slid under the blanket Hyungwon just placed on your side for you.

A chips bag was thrown on your face and another small bag of sweets after, while Hyungwon still rummaged through the drawer. “ok i think that’s all i have here” he came back up again and saw your furrowed eyebrows while attempting to open the chips bag. Another loud thunder and with it the loud sound of the chips bag getting squeezed harshly by your hands.

Hyungwon started to laugh and slowly climbed on the bed to slide under his blanket next to you. “Why are you scared?”

“I’m not scared it’s just fucking loud”

He just nodded. “Sure” you threw him another look when he laughed again.

“Mukbangs or a movie?” he suggested, his phone in his hands now, waiting for your answer. You stuffed a few chips into your mouth and chewed heavily on them. Again, flashes and thunder, now only seconds apart from each other as they now finally pass by as fast as it came.

“Hyungwon, i have a question.”

“oh no” he placed his phone back down on his lap.

“what? i just have a question” he stuck his hand into the chips bag grabbed some and put a few into his mouth.

“i hate your questions” Hyungwon said with his now full mouth.

“ok then-“

“no now you have to ask i can’t bear sitting here without knowing it now”

you pushed your lips together, put the chips bag away and slid down on his bed, your head now on a pillow instead of the headboard. Hyungwon watched you for a second and did the same. Placing his head on his pillow now both of you looked straight up at his ceiling.

It was quite.

“ask your question please or i’ll throw you out of my room”

“ok ok oh my god” you looked to the side to look at his profile and then back again at the ceiling.

“why are we saying hot dog? and not sandwich? the other day we ordered hot dogs and i couldn’t get this question out of my mind. why is it called hot dog?”

looking back at Hyungwon you saw his eyes were closed, after a few seconds he turned his back to you, pushed the sheets up over his shoulders and sighed.

“get out of my room”

“hyungwon i mean it”

“get out please i’m not wasting my precious sleeping time with a weirdo”

you started to laughed, slid closer to him and draped your leg around his legs, his hair now tickling your nose.

It was quite again.

“i’ll stay here, you can sleep. i feel more comfortable when im not alone” you whispered very quietly.

After a few seconds Hyungwon turned back around, you slid away from him to make some space for him to turn. “you’re so fucking weird but it’s kinda cute that you’re scared of storms.”

you stared at his face until you lifted one eyebrow. and started to wiggle both of them.

Hyungwons expression instantly changed as he sighed again.

“you will forget immediately that i said that ok? we’re just pretending that i never told you that”

“told me what? that i’m cute?” your eyebrows now wiggling faster.

“oh man” Hyungwon shook his head turned his body towards yours, lifted his arm and placed his whole palm on your face. Not too harsh so you can still breath but the action with your eyebrows immediately stopped.

“what ar-“

“shh now you have to sleep” you didn’t prostest and just held still as he stayed like that for a few minutes, now closing his eyes.

After a few minutes he felt your strong warm breathing on his fingers and as he lifted his hand he saw you already drifting off to dreamland.

That it was this quick for you to sleep was a mystery for him. The storm stopped a long while ago before you fell asleep.

Light snoring was heard from you as you turned around, your back facing him. He placed the blanket further up your body and pushed the pillow towards you so you can lay more comfortable on it.

Finishing. he placed his head back on his pillow and soon after tried to fall asleep too, the only thing heard now was the wonderful sound of rain outside his window and your fucking annoying snoring right next to his ear.

✨🧡✨

#monsta x #monsta x fluff #monsta x drabble #monsta x imagines #monsta x hyungwon #hyungwon drabble #hyungwon x reader #hyungwon #hyungwon imagines #hyungwon fluff #hyungwon smut #hyungwon scenarios #monsta x reader #changkyun #monsta x smut #hyungwon fake chats #monsta x crack series #monsta x crack #monsta x text messages

[viking-raider]

Quarantine: Ink

Summary: Henry wakes up with some ink that you put on him.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 1,737

Warning: M - Language, Fluff, Prank, Smut - Mention of Cock-warming, intercourse, cream-pie, simulation

Inspiration: There’s a company called Ink Box I’ve always wanted to try and I thought it be funny to prank someone with it, and thought I’d write a prank fic with Hen about it.

Author’s Note: This story is for and dedicated to @littlefreya​! You have my deepest love and support, lady.

You ripped open the brown packaging and smiled at the two pieces of film inside. You had ordered them two weeks prior and received them the day before, and had intended on waiting on the best moment to reveal them to Henry, to convince him to use them with you.

But, one thing had led to another and you and Henry had ended up ripping each other's clothing off and making love in the living room, before ordering take away and having a sweet night in together.

Speaking of your beloved boyfriend, he was still upstairs in bed, sprawled out on his stomach and snoring softly. With quarantine in place, Henry got to sleep in most mornings, which was nice, he worked so hard, between his work outs and his filming projects, getting up at four-thirty in the morning, he deserves to sleep in til ten or eleven.

That's when the idea hit you, with a giggle.

Taking the items upstairs to the master bedroom with you, you smiled at your peaceful and oblivious Puppy, still on his stomach, arms folded underneath his pillow and his head resting on top of them. Biting your lip, you carefully pulled down the blankets still covering his stark body, your fingers, light as feathers, touched the base of his neck and traced down the slope of his broad back, lingering in the hollow of his spine, before cupping one of the cheeks of his plentiful tush in your palm; chuckling softly.

“You are beautiful.” You cooed at his sleeping form, a bubble of loving pride in your chest, before you carefully got into bed and straddled his hips, making Henry moan and grunt, shifting and his face pinching as you disturbed him. “Ssshh.” You purred, leaning down, and kissing the space between his wide shoulders.

“Sleep, Puppy. Sleep.” You mumbled, nuzzling his shoulder blade and rubbing the back of his head, until he moaned again, relaxing and dropping back off to sleep.

Henry settled, you relaxed and sat back, sitting on his thighs, and stared at him for a long moment, before nodding to yourself and picking up a single use, primer wipe packet that came with the two items you ordered, and ripping it open. You gently rubbed the wipe in circles on the back of Henry's right shoulder, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you did, waiting and expecting him to wake up and catch you at any moment. But, he only made a couple of noises and shifted a few times, otherwise he was blissfully unaware and out cold.

Rubbing Henry's shoulder with the wipe for thirty seconds, you tossed it on the nightstand and let the spot dry, while you picked out which of the two items you wanted to apply to the spot, before finally settling. Gently peeling off the protective film from the back, you carefully pressed the sticky side down to the clean, dry and exfoliated section of Henry's shoulder, smoothing it out, so there were no wrinkles or creases, hoping Henry didn't move too much while it was there, for the next hour. With that one down, you moved on, starting to giggle again, but slapped a hand over your mouth, so you didn't wake Henry up with it. You opened the second primer wipe and used it on the exposed side of Henry's neck, being even gentler and careful, knowing just how sensitive the skin here was; but you couldn't resist putting this one here on his neck, where he would almost always see it and likely couldn't cover it up.

With both applied to his skin, you slipped off of him, laying down beside him, arm slung over the small his back and cheek pressed to his clear shoulder blade, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, drifting in and out of sleep yourself, until you heard Henry's alarm go off.

“Wait, wait, wait!” You protested, jumping up out of bed, pressing your hands down on his back. “Don't move yet.”

“Why?” Henry frowned at you, feeling the filmy patch on his neck and tried to reach out and touch it.

“You still have ten minutes.” You told him, catching his arm.

“What have you been doing, Nugget?” Henry sighed, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he laid back down and relaxed.

“You'll see in ten minutes.” You chuckled, peeking to making sure none of his moving wrinkled the film stuck to his skin, and was relieved when they weren't. “Did you sleep well?”

“You know, I always sleep well, when I'm buried cock deep in you.” He chuckled coyly, smirking, and his sleepy blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

You grinned, uncontrollably, and looked away from him, almost shy. “I do know that.” You chuckled back, licking your lips and clearing your throat. “But, you know what I mean, silly bear.”

“I did.” Henry sighed softly, reaching out to gently trace your side with the back of his fingers. “Did you?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, gently touching his neck. “Okay.” You smiled, gently peeling the applicator film off his neck and shoulder. “All right, you can look now.” You giggled, grinning, impishly at him.

Henry pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes at you, skeptical, but got out of bed and walked into the bathroom, seeing what was on his neck first. “You did not!” He barked, coming back into the bedroom, his eyes huge and mouth hanging open.

“How could you!?” He demanded, but the betrayed amusement was very clear in his voice.

“And it'll only get darker over the next two days.” You grinned, stepping up to him, to touch the faint, blue-ish, World of Warcraft, Horde symbol on the side of his neck, just below his left ear. “You're a traitor to your precious Alliance now, my precious Paladin.” You teased him, tickled with delight.

“Did you see the one on your shoulder?” You asked, lifting a brow at him, more than sure he had not.

“What?” Henry snapped, his voice breaking a teeny bit, and turned to go back into the bathroom.

You followed him into the bathroom, watching him turn his back to the full length mirror and crane his head over his shoulder, struggling to see his back to spot the other temporary tattoo on his shoulder that you had put on him, then looked back at you, shoulders dropping and eyes even wider at the Cat nose and whiskers.

“Seriously?” He huffed at you, shaking his head.

“I was originally going to put that one on the inside of my wrist.” You explained, trying to hold back a burst of laughter. “But, I got carried away.” You told him, finally losing control and busting out into a hoot of laughter, doubling over.

“How long do these last?”

“It'll fade in three weeks, promise.” You told him, wiping away tears, seeing the panicked worry in his face.

“I am so fucked, if I have to do any interviews or PR stuff.” Henry laughed, looking at the Horde logo on his neck; tracing it with his finger. “Why the Horde crest?”

“They didn't have the Alliance Lion.” You replied, hopping up to sit on the counter. “Plus, I thought it would be funny, since I know you're such a die hard Alliance player.” You chuckled, leaning in to kiss the crest, hands resting on Henry's bare sides.

“What sense of humour you have, my love.” Henry cooed, turning his head to capture your lips in his own and stepped between your legs. “You do know, I will get you back for this.” He whispered against your lips, kissing you deeper, his hands grabbing the back of your knees and yanked you closer to him.

“I expect nothing less.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

A hum rumbling in his chest, Henry grabbed the back of your head and deepened the kiss, tongue swiping by your lips to flick across your tongue, making both of you moan at the same time. You rocked your hips against his, feeling his cock awaken against your thighs and folds. Henry's teeth pulled at your bottom lip as he pulled his body away from yours enough for you to slip your hand between your humming bodies to grab his hard length, stroking the throbbing organ, your thumb caressing the weeping, uncut head, before guiding it to your entrance.

“Christ, you feel so fucking good.” You moaned into his neck, hugging your legs tighter around his hips as he pushed inside of you.

“You too, baby.” Henry groaned, placing open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulder, while thrusting into you. “You're so snug around me.” He panted into your ear, planting his hands on the counter, on either side of you, and used the leverage to increase the strength of his thrusts, making the items on the counter rattle and a couple knock over

“Uh, Henry!” You cried out, one hand grasping the top of his shoulder, as you leaned back on your other one. ”God, fuck!” You let go of his shoulder and started rubbing your clit.

Both your and Henry's breathing was as erratic as your movements, lost in the moment of heated passion and pleasure. Henry grabbed you by the waist, slapping your and his hips together as his thrusts became wild and involuntary, starting to reach his plateau. You could feel the increased throb of his cock inside of you, the hot swelling against your walls as his balls tightened with his building orgasm. Henry snapped his hips into you one more time before throwing his head back and going completely rigid, his stiff cock pumping ribbon after ribbon of hot cum into your core, helping you tip over into your own plateau, your hand falling away from your clit.

Henry sluggishly wrapped his arms around your torso and hugged you against him, kissing your lips and temple, before breathily whispering into your hair. “I'm picking out yours.”

You chuckled, pressing your cheek to his chest, feeling his pounding heart slowing down. “I'll show you the website during breakfast.” You promised, turning your head to press a chaste kiss to the Horde logo on his neck.

#Henry Cavill #HenryCavill #viking-raider fics #Quarantine: Ink #Quarantine: Ink *fic* #Quarantine Series #Ink #Ink Box #Henry Cavill/You #Henry Cavill x You #Henry Cavill/Reader #Henry Cavill x Reader #tattoos #littlefreya #smut #fluff #language

[muffindaddystyles]

Okay but vamp!harry x reader where the reader goes for a late night walk alone because she’s feeling anxious (Harry tries to insist on coming with but she says no) but soon he can sense somethings wrong and goes to look for her and finds her in a dangerous situation! I need protective vampire Harry 🥺

Disclaimer: Reader with ADHD, Vampire!H x fem!reader, cock warming.

Harry's been doing humanly things. Moreso trying for his little human whom he doesn't want to dissapoint when she's making ećlairs or pop tarts for him and all he knows is to eat them despite of being a helping hand. His fingers are magical —--- they relax her in the most livid way while he's feeding from her. Honestly, it's all she wants. Her making sweets for him and him pleasuring her in the most bizarre way.

But. Sometimes she get's emotionally exhausted that the physical activities looks like breaking a mountain for her and all she does is snuggle under the snoozy layers of her childhood blankets cuddling her cat to calm her down.

Now her tranquility is Harry.

It's one of those days. She's been feeling like a failure. An utter dimwit for not getting what's happening in her sociology class, why her neighbours are always grumpy with her and why she isn't able to study anything. It's depressing her.

Harry never left her side. She's like a honey gooed all over him not even letting him bring the pizzas he ordered for them, "Don't!" She squeaks in a weak voice catching his wrists and he sits back cupping the nape of her neck looking straight in her eyes to assure her with his whole existence, "'ey baby . . my sweet girl 'm not goin' anywhere. Delivery boy's been waiting outside -- just a mo', yeah?" He sponges a gentle kiss at her temple stroking her cheek to calm her down.

They've rented a VR receiver and alot of silver movies watching them while eating pizza. She giggles and Harry smiles goofily when he had to hit the receiver twice to make it work, "c'mon you should know how all of this work old man." He strides towards her pulling her up with armpits into his embrace and tickling hard.

"Old man huh!? Ol' ma —" He pretends to eat her whole and she squeals between her laughs, "'m sorry you're my man!" Huffs smugly giving her a breather and pecks her not twice but thrice. If he could kiss her all day. He would. She's his human. It surprises him sometimes when he's alone with his thoughts. He loves her to fucking bits and pieces.

When she's like this everyone and everything feels outta her reach. As if they're miles away from her and she's standing in barren cold. In the amidst of sappy movie she shrinks closer to him stuffing her face into his ribs wounding her leg around his abdomen and he makes her feel warm wrapping his arms around her to push her up on his thigh. Snapping his gaze down at her when the lil sniffs of her reached his ears, "What's wrong kitten . . . hurts to see ya like this baby. Love you so much." He never fails to promise that he loves her to core.

"'M jus . . . thinking tha –-- that when I'll die you'll be still here 'n . . . 'n y'would get so lonely." She hiccups without a break, "Dunno. Can't stop crying 'm sorry." She gives out an ugly sob into his chest. It's breaking his already feeble heart. God he could scream the affection to the moon he have for this girl. In such a tragic moment all she is thinking is about him.

He cups squishes both her cheeks with his calloused palms telling her to breath with slow gestures then when she's way better speaks in his softest voice, "My baby listen to me hmm? We're never thinking of future don't wan'ye to wreck ye'r beautiful brain for stupid deaths --- secondly too bad miss Y/N 'm gonna cling to ye like leech of your nightmares." He wipes her tears away ever so caringly and gives her eskimo kisses while she giggles snorting at the end when Harry brought his big goldfish orbs in the middle to make her laugh.

"'M glad to have you." She whispers smudging her wet lips softly against his's into a heart melting blood warming kiss and Harry shushes her when she whines clutching the hem of his sweater, "bite me? She asks politely rather than being batty as for she was being within past days rilling him upto extreme to get her neck and skin sprinkled with hickeys that turns into bites.

"Don't wanna hurt ye', lovie." He pushes her hair away peering down at her with pleading worried eyes, "you wouldn't. promise." He nods flushing her against his chest positioning her head into the crook of his neck. Making her hug him like a koala bear.

Rubs her back. Pats her hair. Sways her along him rather than the seductive warnings he used to give her. He's afraid. She's too fragile at the moment. He'd never forgive himself if something will happen to her, "'m gonna bite. Stop me if ye' don't want it o' hurts." He runs his palms at her sides making her all squirmy.

He pushes her fangs ever so gently to her sweet spot. If she's made of glass making her moan and tight her grip around him warming up his cock in his trousers. It's not always about you dumber. He scolds himself. Suckling lightly and pulling back in a pinch of moment. It's the first time he has almost pretended to drink from her. She's all sleepy in his hold. He carries her to bed and when tries to untangle himself so he could turn the telly off she whines not letting him.

Despite of these much blankets she's still feeling cold. From inside. It feels empty and she isn't liking it at all. Writhes and squirms causing Harry to ask, "ye okay there lovie'?" When she shakes her head with glassy eyes and a pout he understands.

"Cold." Is all she had to say and he's guessing the next, "in ye'r tummy?" When she bobs her head confirming he sighs softly pulling the elastic of his trousers down to free his dick getting rid of the item woving his calves with her, thighs between thighs and places a firm hand on her back moving his thumb into circles non-stop.

"Oh me lil dovlin' c'mere . . want me cock to warm ye up baby? 'S okay s' okay darlin'." He murmurs against her lips tugging at his foreskin hissing when the head of his thick cock gets pushed between their bellys due to approximty. Precome oozes from his strokes and he takes her panties off swiping his crown over her hole to lubricate her. Wounds his arm around the nape of her neck to lap at her mouth swallowing her whines and cries while sliding inside her compact walls twisting his stomach awfully, "shhh. shhh baby love. I got ya. Gonna take care of ye ---- try to sleep. I'll be waiting fo' ye in the morning." Once, situating himself deep and snug inside her. He keeps on embracing her like a little baby.

Next morning though she woke up happy. Harry made her brekkie. Special smiley pancakes with heart shaped eyes from the little strawberry toppings. He really took advantage of his time while she was snoring her ass off. A peach smoothie and cashewnuts. Fed Meowsie. Gave her his morning lovin'. They had the meal together.

He helped her learn some of her course. Then in afternoon made lunch together egg fried rice and stirred vegetables Y/N went to give some of it to their neighbours. Lady Nat asked her if she's okay cause she has stopped stomping in her flat and it made her feel good, weirdly.

//

Maybe it's seasonal sadness that she couldn't get out of it. Harry's in the kitchen cleaning up shelves when he hears the rustle of carpet. He peeks from the wall to find her pooling into a big hoodie and slipping into her shoes. He frowns throwing the rag away to walk towards her immediately, "where ye' goin' lovie? Ye' okay what happened?" He runs his hands over her shoulders to her hair making her meet his eyes.

She nods squeezing his wrists, "don't worry just wanna . . . take a walk — clear my head." Hearing this he quickly moves to wear his jacket.

"'M goin' with you." He declares and she knows if that'll happen she wouldn't be able to, "No. Alone." She fumbles with the strings of her hoodie. He sighs not fond of the idea brows knighting together thumbing at her jaw with concern screaming in his eyes.

"Can I mark you then?" He asks knowing what hides in the shadows of outside; creatures evil than his entire existence. He doesn't want to make her feel like she owes him explanations for her each and every movement but gosh does it scare him to his bones. She's the only person who could make him weak into knees and a mesh of puddle at the thought of even the thorn pricking her, "okie." She cranes her neck and it still amuses him she's exactly how she was when he first met her. That gentle rose under the moon meant for Harry to care and water with love.

After adorning her with a crimson mark and little peck he tugs her closer hooking his nose to her hair taking a good sniff of her cocoa scent, "keep your phone in ye' hand and don't walk through the cherry street." There's nothing there but stray dogs that she's afraid of. It's better he advises her.

"Ai. Ai captain!" She salutes him stomping her feet and he chuckles kissing her cheek wet-ly, "Go before I change me mind."

//

He wanted it not to creep it to his mind but it's not helping AT ALL. He's been restless and it's been fifteen minutes since she has left. He's sitting sunk into sofa with Meowsie snuggled under his chin while he shakes his knees, cracks his knuckles, combs his hair and groans into his palms. In short throwing tantrum like a toddler missing her already and constantly worrying about her. Something doesn't feel right at all. That gut wrenching horror of losing her biting him alive.

He mutters a fuck it going to look for her and bring her back home. He was right. He has always been. Good at instincts. For fuck's sake. He's a vampire!

Y/N was walking along the path which's the lead way to a park when a dark vibe gloomed over her head. The next she knows is she's being pinned to a wall with demonic eyes snatching at her soul: it takes her breath away outta horror.

"No wonder why Harry kisses the earth you walk on." He chuckles darkly accent an old Scottish and she gulps eyes stinging with tears, "I would to . . if I get to drink such sweet ripe blood." Her eyes widens when his fangs pokes out from his gums glistening under the lamp light.

She tries to kick him in balls to get rid of his painful grip when an angry growl echoes towards them loudly and the person who had her trapped wooshes from her sight in a bolt to ground making her shriek.

"She's not a fuckin' feeder stay the fuck away from her!!" Harry grits spitting venom. Choking the person under him, "tol' ya she's my girl and I'll shred everyone alive if they'll even breath in her direction." She has never seen him this furious. Tone harsh and snappy she never heard coming from him it makes her cry.

He had warned his fellows when the news of him spread that he has bonded to human. But well they've thick skulls.

The man under him just smirks pushing him away and coughing into his elbow standing up. "Whatever thought sharing is caring, Styles." Harry glares him resentfully. Fisting a punch at his side but stables himself when a dainty hand wraps around his fingers clutching tight.

He turns ducking down to her level cupping her cheeks and tries to examine her for any kind of injury, "ye' okay? Did he hurt you? Tell me and — " she rubs her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie shaking her head vigorously.

"No. 'M fine sorry should've listened to you." He puffs out a breath of guilt letting his forehead fall against her's, "don't be sorry -- it's none of ye'r fault baby."

"Glad you're safe." He whispers hugging her with the sway of bodies, "I love you." She tells him honestly tip-toeing to kiss him and it unfortunately reaches his silky jaw only.

"And all the things you do for me." He grins down at her. He lives on praises. The cheeky bastard.

"How about eatin' ice-cream while taking swings in the park?" He intertwines their hands warmly kissing her knuckles and she quips excitedly, "sounds great!"

.

AN: idk why read more button isn't working sorry for the bug.

#harry styles smut #anon request #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry angst #dom harry #harry styles vampire smut #vamp!h #vampire harry

[collecting-stories]

Cowboy Blues - pt. 01 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: You swipe right on Tinder with some interesting results. 

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

△ ▽ △ ▽

You weren’t traditional by any sense of the word. You’d given up all those crazy ideals that had been ingrained in your personality when you realized that you weren’t going to find a high school sweetheart to settled down with. Or a college one for that matter. You settled for nice dates with average guys and tried to remind yourself daily that you needed no one to complete your life. It was fine on its own.  

“I think the literal class of guy has gone down,” your best friend Nina mentioned as she scrolled through your phone. You loved Nina but she was tone-deaf to most of your single life complaints. She was already married, to the same guy she had been dating since middle school. After HSM came out she had been madly in love with Zac Efron and had managed to find the one guy in your school that looked almost just like him and they’d stayed together.  

“You’re on tinder right now, just to put that commentary into perspective for you.” You pointed out, annoyed mostly. Nina had invited herself to come have lunch with you while you worked on finalizing your classroom for the coming school year. While you tried to get actual work done, Nina just scrolled through the guys on your tinder and bitched about their profiles, as if she expected to find some great life partner for you.  

It was probably cynical of you to say but, if you never dated again, never settled down with anyone, it probably wouldn’t matter. Wedding fever sprung up whenever someone else was tying the knot or having a kid but when that passed you weren’t particularly eager to look for someone. People had been, for the majority, disappointing since you had turned 18 and, for the past eight years you hadn’t been proven right.  

Someone to cohabitate with might be nice. You certainly thought about it on nights when you were feeling particularly isolated from the rest of the world, but all that disappeared when you considered how used to being alone you actually were and what cohabitating would actually mean. Someone who would leave dirty dishes in the sink, leave water on the bathroom floor and track it through the house, who would chew too loud or hate the food you liked or snore too obscenely or drink too much. There were a million flaws with your imaginary future suitor and you listed them all anytime you got the bug to start dating again. But twenty-six was old, according to Nina, and you needed to get married.  

“What about him, he’s cute?” She held the phone out to you, the guy in the picture was smiling, sitting in front of a table with food. You looked up briefly from the lesson plan you were writing out, nearly losing your mouthful of coffee.  

You swallowed and took the phone, staring at the picture, maybe a little too long.  

“He’s cute babe, but he’s not like People Magazine’s hottest man alive.” Nina said in response to your out burst.  

“No, no, I know him.” You explained, eyes still on the picture. God, you couldn’t help thinking that he looked good. Did you look that good? He was the spitting image of what he’d been in the stairwell at Duke. Attractive, self-assured, a little cocky. “We went to the same college. I hooked up with him one time at a party before spring break…I uh, he told me to call him and I lost his number.”  

“On purpose?” She asked, plucking the phone out of your hands. She lingered on his picture, waiting for your either glowing recommendation or scathing review before she swiped. He was cute, she’d give you that. He was tan, tall, even in the picture it was obvious, and just nice to look at.  

“No,” You admitted. “I was gonna call him and then I got back together with Ian.” Your ex-boyfriend be damned, you left out the part where you thought about your random hook way more often than a sane person should. After spring break it hadn’t been hard to dodge him, Duke had a massive campus and you didn’t have any of the same classes but every time you and Ian had it out you couldn’t help wondering what it would’ve been like if you’d called him back. Even after you graduated and moved back home to Boston, you still couldn’t quite shake the memory of him.  

“Well Ian’s getting married and you’re not...so,” she swiped and then closed the app, sliding off your desk to take a slow appraisal of your classroom while she dug the knife in deeper, “are you going to Ian’s wedding?”  

Nina kept asking, as if you had much say in the matter, and you kept answering, deflating your ego every time you had to say yes. “I have to…it’s my grade partner. She even made me a bridesmaid.” Admittedly, you and Anya had been much closer before your boyfriend of three years dumped you and immediately started dating her. Now it felt hard to be around her for too long, like going home for the holidays and trying to keep quiet when your drunk uncle brought up the political climate in the country. Anya told you she had held off the wedding because she wanted to ‘wait until the dust settled’. As if it hurt less now. For different reasons, sure, but not less.  

In a month’s time you’d be sitting through a bridal shower that her sister kept texting you to help coordinate and plan. She’d tried to be nice, giving you a plus one to the wedding because you didn’t know any of her friends or family. The only other person you knew was Ian, ex-boyfriend and groom, not exactly who you wanted to be hanging out with. Of course, you knew his family and that just made the whole ordeal so much more awkward.

The plus-one was an empty gesture though. Just a reminder that there was no one for you to invite. But you kept hoping, maybe you’d meet someone. Maybe you could transport yourself into a Hallmark movie and rent a date or something. Fall madly in love in a week and move to their small town and never look back. Then, at least, you could miss the wedding altogether.  

“She’s a fucking back stabbing bitch.” Nina commented, as if this was some new piece of information that she was finding out about now.

“Anya is super sweet.” You defended, only because it was true. Anya might’ve been marrying your douche of an ex-boyfriend but she was categorically the nicest person that you had ever met. “It wasn’t like he cheated on me, we broke up.” You didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. Not two weeks before the beginning of school. Two weeks before you had to look at her face every day until the honeymoon.  

“They got together pretty quick.” Nina pointed out, not that she ever needed to. “Well, whatever, so what was this guy like, what was his name?”  

“Did you swipe right on him and not even look at his name?” You asked, reaching for your phone to check.  

“Yeah, so? She asked, “You said you knew him.”  

“I said I slept with him.” You corrected.  

“Same thing.” She shrugged, “name?”

“Rafe. Cameron.”  

She ‘ohhhh-ed’ appreciatively, “What was he like?” She asked. “He sounds rich.”  

“Hot,” you shrugged, “I don’t know he was probably a total fuck boy. He asked me to call him the next morning after breakfast and I said sure and then when I got back to my dorm Ian was there.” You provided the short story of events, omitting any major details about that night. You told Nina everything but you had never told her about Rafe, always a little wistful about the encounter. As if it was some personal memory that would lose its importance should anyone else know about it.  

“He made you breakfast?”  

“Yeah, so?”  

“That’s like jackpot. God you could be like, married right now, popping babies out for some Swedish Au pair to run around after.” Nina replied raising her eyebrows suggestively.  

“I’m glad you’ve created this weird ‘rich kid’ narrative but I have no idea. It’s not like I was checking the guy’s financials while I was sucking his dick.” You lowered your voice at the end of the sentence, just in case the pushing 80 secretary walked past and heard you.  

“Please, have you seen him? That is a baby-faced, rich boy living on his daddy’s money. And you could be too.”  

“Okay, look, I was 20, I wasn’t trying to settle down and get married. At least not to some random guy I only hooked up with because my boyfriend was a douche.” You replied. Not to mention that breakfast had essentially consisted of one bite of toast before he was eating you out on the counter of his off-campus apartment. Not exactly the romantic beginning to a relationship. “Wait, did you swipe right?” You asked, almost immediately horrified at the thought.  

“Maybe.”  

“No,” you groaned, “fuck, he’s gonna think I’m so weird!”

“He will not. Besides, if he’s as much of a fuck boy as you say then guarantee he doesn’t even remember you.” She replied. “Besides, if he answers, it’ll be kinda nice ya know? Go out, have a nice dinner, get fucked, all your problems melt away.”  

“He better not remember me.” You grumbled. You were not prepared for the absolute humiliation that would come from him seeing you on Tinder and remembering you.  

“Did you really sleep with so few guys in college that you remember him?”  

“You’ve slept with one person in the last decade…” you pointed out.  

“And?” She slipped her sweatshirt back on and grabbed her bag, “whatever, I’m heading out. I have work in 30.”  

With Nina gone, you slumped back in your chair and grabbed your phone. You had a tendency to never get rid of anything; it was the great downfall of your life. Someday you would accumulate so much stuff you would become a hoarder and then no one would love you but the cats that used your belongings as a litter box. It was a terrible habit but it lent to usefulness sometimes, especially in moments like this, as you scrolled through your phone, finding Rafe’s contact. You had told Nina that you’d lost Rafe’s number but in actuality you had kept it stored in your phone even though you’d never used it.  

Now, this wedding fever was doing nothing but confirm your fear that you were one step closer to an unfulfilling life alone. Even Lorelai Gilmore didn’t stay single forever.  

You stared at his name in your contact list, a little fire emoji next to it and you could remember laughing at him when he typed it in. It was more a playful jab at the way your Boston accent had pronounced the word fire than anything to do with him though you thought it was an accurate description.  

You wondered if he had the same number. If you’d called him that night, would it have been another failed relationship to catalog away for when you were feeling especially shitty. Or would he have left you for the bubbly grade partner that you wanted to hate so much but couldn’t. Nina had swiped right on him but you didn’t even know where he lived these days. You were living in Boston again. You’d moved home for your masters and stayed when the teaching internship turned into an actual job.

North Carolina had been fun for school, being 12 hours away from home had given you the most incredible sense of freedom but nowhere was New England and you’d been itching to go home again just as soon as you’d arrived down there. Though coming back to Boston, you had found it different than you’d left it. Even with Nina here, she was married, she had her own life away from you. As much as you tried to settle in and pretend that everything was fine, you couldn’t help but admit that Nina was right, you did need someone.

Single life felt a lot more routine than you imagined it would. A call from your mother, complaining that your sister was acting out and being generally awful, a call from your sister, accusing your mother of being overbearing, and hours of alone time filled mostly by reading, walking your dog, and binging TV shows.  “At least you got a dog and not a cat.” Nina had said when you brought Fivel home. He was pre-named and you were always partial to An American Tail.  

“Only so I would exercise.” You had replied, knowing you had to walk the dog, a black lab mix that was a puppy when you got him. “You hear that Five, I’m using you for my own gain.”  He had gotten big since then, fully grown now with a personality that included forgetting his size and spreading out on top of you when you laid on the couch.  

Your apartment was small, an old converted brownstone with three apartments, yours on the top floor above a middle-aged couple with a very spoiled seven-year-old. They were nice when they weren’t blaring Disney movies and you resented that even in your house you couldn’t escape children but you couldn’t be too upset. The place was nicer than you could’ve hoped, truthfully. Especially living alone.  

Even with a nice place to live though, it was always the same. Walking Fivel, making whatever dinner that came in the Sunbasket boxes at the beginning of the week, and watching Top Chef.  

You closed out of your contacts, going back to Tinder as if Rafe would’ve already messaged you. All Nina had written was ‘hey’, as if that was supposed to entice someone into replying. You doubted the stupid picture of you from last year at the beach really did anything special. You weren’t surprised to find that there was no reply yet. You read his profile over again, unsure what else to say. The night the two of you hooked up you had both been at a party though these days your partying had been replaced with drinking alone.  

Whoever said don’t waste your twenties would’ve recoiled in horror at the way you were living.  

-  

“Leaving so soon?”  

You turned away from the double doors leading out onto campus, the click of the bar as it released echoing in your ear for a second, drowned out mostly by the music that was coming from the various dorms that had their doors open. It was a floor party; one you’d come to with some friends in high hopes of forgetting your current ex-boyfriend Ian once and for all. Three months of condescending comments and gaslighting finally pushing you over the edge.  

“I was just...getting some fresh air.” You replied, shrugging. Trying to look calm, unaffected by this stranger’s sudden entrance into your life. He was cute, far more so than Ian. Taller too. You thought you recognized him from the lacrosse team your roommate was so obsessed with. “Lacrosse players are never unattractive.” She had argued once when she dragged you to a game.  

He definitely fit the bill for her ideal of the lacrosse playing frat boy. Hot, tall, tan, his cap was on backwards and he looked so relaxed but also so sure of himself. Like whatever was going to happen in this hallway was going to go exactly how he wanted.  

“Want some company?” He asked, taking a sip from the cup in his hand but not taking his eyes off you.  

You felt like your heart was hammering in your chest, head swimming and you’d not even had anything to drink that night. “I uh…” worse case scenarios increased by tenfold in your head given the context of the situation. You were alone in a hallway, potentially about to go outside, while everyone else was partying, where they couldn’t hear you, with some guy you didn’t know at all. A guy who gave off some pretty strong ‘get-whatever-I-want’ vibes and he’d said no more than two sentences to you. “I uh, kinda wanted to be alone.”  

“Cool, cool.” He shrugged, “no problem.”  

For whatever reason that possessed you to think it was a genuinely okay idea, so you walked out, the door clicking open as you stepped onto the pavement. You kicked the stopper so it wouldn’t shut all the way because you’d rather be able to get back in than somehow have both of you trapped out here if he did decide to follow you. No alcohol, your brain was just malfunctioning or maybe your roommate was right and your usual suspicion of everyone had turned a nice moment into an awful one.  

It was significantly colder outside than it had been in the dorms, even in the hallway, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You wanted to scream at Ian for not even letting you have a good time when you were out with friends because you kept thinking of him. He was off somewhere, already on spring break, no doubt hooking up with girls you’d never know about because you had told him it was over. And it was, you were just so completely unsure-  

You’re silent berating ended mid-sentence when you turned around to see your lacrosse playing stranger sitting on the steps just inside the door. He smiled at you and waved and you almost laughed at the oddity of the moment as you came back inside.  

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding the door open and letting some of the cold air deep in.  

“You said you wanted to be alone. Figured I’d wait.”  

“For?”  

He shrugged, standing up and leaning against the bottom of the railing, “you, to not want to be alone.”  

“Well,” you were momentarily caught off guard, a nervous laugh escaping. Truthfully, you had never had someone flirt with you like this before, so directly obvious about liking you. Not necessarily one with quick-witted comebacks, you were still fairly good at deflecting when you needed too but somehow, he had rendered you speechless.  

He nodded his head toward the steps, “we can just sit? Door’s right there,” he offered, referring to the dorm room less than six feet away. The door was open and you could hear a mix of chatter and music.  

“Okay.” You agreed, letting the door close on the stopper, the slightest wave of cool air seeping in while you walked over and took a seat beside him. You introduced yourself, unsure what else to do, and probably sounded like every middle-aged family member he had when you asked him what his major was.  

“Rafe Cameron,” he replied, “economics.”  

“Oh god,” you said before you could stop yourself. He was the full package clearly, though of what you weren’t sure. He sounded rich, by the name alone, econ major, lacrosse player, potentially, and absolutely fuckable. There was no other coherent way to describe it. “I took an econ course as an elective freshman year, it really fucked me up.”  

“Not a math person?” He asked, another sip of his drink and you really wished you had one. Anything to occupy a little corner of your brain so everything wasn’t so solely focused on him.  

“No, no, not at all.” You shook your head. “So…do you live in this dorm?”  

“Nah, my roommate’s dating some girl in one of these,” he replied, the same head nodded toward the rooms as before, “I’m just here for the booze, and the company.”  

That wasn’t even that smooth of a line and you were melting at it. You weren’t sure if you were just dying for some positive attention or going through the motions of a breakup but either way you were seriously considering your roommate’s earlier encouragement of ‘letting yourself go’. Have fun, she had said, be bold.  

“You play lacrosse, right?” You asked, because you were 95% sure you’d seen him and it was eating at you a little bit.  You felt like you were grasping at straws trying to think of what to say. You were fairly positive that he was only talking to you because he wanted to have sex with you but honestly, you really wanted to have sex with him too.  

“I do,” he grinned and you knew you’d basically given him the upper hand. “You’ve been to a game?”  

“I’ve been to all of them.” You said before you could stop yourself. “I mean, my roommate’s a big fan of lacrosse or lacrosse players, not sure, so we always go.”  

“Not a fan yourself?”  

“No, I mean, I like it, you guys have a good team.” You shrugged. This was going terribly, or you would think it was if he wasn’t looking at you like that.  

“Yeah?” He grinned, sliding a little closer to you on the stairs.  

“I should close that door, it’s getting cold in here.” You mentioned, standing up suddenly.  

Rafe couldn’t help his smile as you walked down the steps to the door. He had come out into the hallway because the party was boring, the music was subpar, and Topper was starting to annoy him. He had considered going back to the apartment altogether but he’d just sat on the stairs instead, as if he was waiting for something. And then you’d come along. “We could head back to my place? It’s warm.” He offered. A stupid line, sure, but the last one had played well for him so he tried this one.  

You almost laughed at the cheesiness of his comment. The way he said it, even with how you’d felt when you first realized he was there, was easy, letting you know that the decision was yours entirely. Maybe it was a decision you shouldn’t have been making right this moment but he was gorgeous and anything that had you not thinking about your ex was good enough for you. “Yeah, but I’ll be cold on the way there.”  

His lower lip jutted out, pouting at you playfully, “We’ll drive, you can stay warm in the car, promise.”

-  

Sans Nina stopping by, the next day played out the same as the day before. You managed to hold off checking your Tinder until halfway through lunch. It wasn’t like you’d stopped thinking about it or forgot the whole exchange with Nina the day before. You’d locked the whole thing away to reminisce about at some later date when you were no doubt alone once again. Alone and-  

And he had sent you a message. It just said hey back, and a subtle compliment about your profile picture, telling you that he would kill for beach weather right now and that ‘blue is his favorite color’, you clicking back a second later and realizing that the bathing suit you had on in your profile picture was, in fact, blue. You half wondered if he remembered you and that’s why it was so casual. But he was arguably that casual the night you met too. If you’d been in a less hyper aware state of mind you would’ve never realized he was flirting with you.  

You stared at the message for half of your lunch hour wondering what to say in return. Something witty maybe, though you were feeling as tongue tied as you had that night six years ago. Not at all the confident person you always envisioned yourself being at this point in your life but the nervous one who said dumb stuff that you didn’t mean to.  

-I went last weekend with a friend and it was literally too cold to take my sweatshirt off...fall’s a bitch-  

You replied, attaching a frowning emoji to the end of your sentence. You hated your inability to be cool online. What else could you say though? You couldn’t ask if he remembered you. Say that if he did remember you than you were sorry for never calling and you know how much of an ass matching with him on Tinder probably seems. Or that pathetically enough for you that night and following morning are arguably the best sex you’ve ever had. Or even that his profile picture made him look better than you remembered, god why did you get back together with Ian.  

-  

Rafe had seen the match almost immediately. Working from home that afternoon, he’d only been half paying attention to the zoom meeting that he was on, scrolling through his phone when the notification popped up. He had clicked into Tinder, staring at your name and profile picture off and on for a good hour while he tried to think of something to say to you.  

Something clever.  

He wasn’t exactly the most sentimental person anyone had ever met and he’d slept with plenty of people in college but he knew you the minute he saw your picture. You looked exactly the same as you had that night, though the picture you used for your profile didn’t quite do justice to the way your eyes lit up when you smiled or how ridiculously easy it had been for him to be completely infatuated with you that night.  

You had never called him and he couldn’t fault you for that, it wasn’t exactly like he was screaming boyfriend material back then. He barely was now. Whenever he thought about you, and he was sure it was more frequently than it should be for a one night stand from college, he assumed you’d probably met someone, settled down...all that ridiculous stuff his sister was into.  

He said he liked the blue of your bathing suit in the picture of you and that he wished it was beach weather because seeing you honestly had him missing the Outer Banks more than he expected to. He sent the text and spent the rest of the night feeling like a dumbass. There he was, blowing his chances all over again. But then, halfway through the next day, you texted back.  

-You Bostonians need to work on your weather. -

He responded, as soon as he got the message, and then,  

-I’ll get right on it...any specific requests?-  

Your reply came back a few minutes later, after he checked his phone three more times.

-Warm enough to take you to the beach.-  

Rafe responded a little faster than he probably should have. Maybe a little more desperate than he should have too but he couldn’t be bothered about that.  

-Sans the sweatshirt? -  

-Exactly.-  

He followed the text up immediately with a,  

-but since I can’t take you to the beach, are you free for dinner this Friday?-

-I am, yeah. Where did you have in mind?-  

-Have you been to Menton? -  

-

It was warm in the apartment, even for mid-March with the windows opened. The kind of weather that made you want to stretch out in bed and do nothing all day. Except this wasn’t your bed or your room and the noise coming from the kitchen was definitely not going to help lull you back to sleep. Opening your eyes to the sun streaming through the window, you climbed out of bed, grabbing the t-shirt from the carpeted floor and pulling it over your head.  

You hadn’t intended to stay the night at Rafe’s but really, once you were there you hadn’t wanted to leave. Even now, all you really wanted was to find him and take him back to bed. Maybe not to sleep but definitely to sleep with.  

“Oh my god, you’re so loud,” you teased, walking into the small kitchen to find Rafe standing over the stove, back to you. He turned at the sound of your voice and you had to appreciate the lack of clothing he had decided to wear to attempt breakfast, just a pair of navy-blue briefs.  

“Watch it, you won’t get any of these world class scrambled eggs.” He replied, pointing his spatula back to the frying pan on the stove.  

You walked closer to him, letting him wrap his arm around you and pull you into his side. “Those do look like some quality eggs,” you observed, putting your arm around his waist.  

This felt so easy you were dreading going back to your dorm eventually. Ian hadn’t even made a guest appearance in your brain and he’d been pretty much the star since the two of you broke up. But right now, all you wanted to focus on was Rafe and getting to spend as much time with him as possible.  

Rafe moved the skillet off the stove and laid the spatula down, using his free hand to grab your waist as he maneuvered you around in front of him. You yelped in surprise when his hands fell to your thighs and he hoisted you up onto the counter.  

“Careful! You almost burned me!” You laughed, swatting his hands away.  

“You’re not even near the burner.” he laughed, pushing your legs apart so he could stand in between them.  

“I thought we were having breakfast?”

“We are.” He reasoned, the innuendo evident as he leaned down and kissed just above your bare knees. “When do you have to be back?”

“Whenever.” You shrugged, more than happy to have this moment play out, uninterrupted.  

-

Menton was the kind of place that other people went to. Not first grade teachers on first grade teacher salaries. Even when you were younger, growing up in the more affluent part of western Massachusetts, you had never really been part of a ‘fancy restaurants’ family. Menton was just some place Nina mentioned when she talked about restaurants too expensive for normal people.  

“What if he remembers me?” You had asked, a few hours earlier, when Nina showed up at your apartment with shoes for your outfit.  

“Did he say he did?” Honestly curious about this guy you had never mentioned to her before.  

“No. But what if he does?” You couldn’t help being paranoid about the whole date. You could still remember the feeling of being around him, of being with him. Rafe hadn’t mentioned to you that he remembered you, and thank god too because how awkward would that conversation had been? Just a ‘hey, aren’t you that girl I hooked up with six years ago in college?’. Why did Nina have to swipe right. Why couldn’t she have minded her own business and believed you when you said that you were over Ian and not at all concerned about the wedding.  

You were freaking yourself out for nothing. Or because you were dressed nicer than you had been in two years and standing outside Menton.  

“Hey.”  

You turned toward the sound of someone calling your name, seeing Rafe walking across the street. You felt very much like you were twenty again, finding him watching you from the stairwell, butterflies in your stomach.  You teetered for a moment on the sidewalk, unsure if you should wait for him to make it all the way to you or just walk up and hug him. That seemed a little extreme, honestly,  

You could still remember the feeling of his arms around you but if he didn’t remember you, and you were banking on him not remembering, it would be odd to just grab him in the street. He eased the tension for you though, reaching an arm out for a side hug once he was close enough. Casual but still not too personal.  

“Hey,” he repeated, stepping away from you for a brief appraisal. “You look beautiful.”  

“Ah, thank you...this place looked so fancy online, I wasn’t sure what to wear.” You admitted.  

“You googled it?” He sounded amused, even as he stepped in front of you to hold the door open and you could just imagine the smirk on his face. The same one he’d worn when you told him that you had seen all of his lacrosse games. (You had seen all the ones after that night too but you always made sure to sit high up in the bleachers and you never stuck around after a game.)

“Well, yeah...I wanted to read the menu.” You replied, pausing briefly as Rafe gave his name to the hostess and she grabbed two menus, walking you through the restaurant to a nice table in the back. Quiet but not too quiet.  

“Hopefully it’s lived up to its reputation so far?” He asked, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying that he remembered how bizarrely neurotic you could be, even in the few hours that he had spent with you.  

“I mean I haven’t eaten the food.” You stressed, looking at him over your shoulder as he pulled your chair out for you. “Thank you.”

He grimaced, as if the possibility of you rating this place, or the date, badly, was still an option then. “The oysters are really good...or the cappotelli.” He suggested, moving around to his side of the table, “do you have a wine preference?”

“Red, otherwise...not really.” You replied, letting him order a bottle for the table. This was somehow exactly the person you’d hooked-up with in college and not that person at all. As if you could see little cracks in the facade of his put-together appearance. “So, are you from Boston?”

“No,” he shook his head. He looked up at you for a moment, breaking his concentration with the menu before he laid the paper off to the side, “I’m from North Carolina, the Outer Banks, I actually ended up moving up here for work.”

“I know this sounds crazy-”

He hummed and you scrunched your nose at him.

“-I’m always like, surprised when people are like, from the beach.” You explained, “like I only think of the beach as vacation place not like a, live there all the time place.”

“That’s cause it gets ridiculously cold up here.” He replied, “No one wants to live on a beach where it snows.”

“The beach is nice off season!” You insisted. “It’s not crowded and you can just like, walk around-”

“If I have to wear a coat to go to the beach, it is not nice.”

“Okay,” you sassed, sticking your tongue out and making him laugh. “So what do you do then? Why’d you move to Boston?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Rafe noted, “I work for an economics firm here. Mostly I moved for the job opportunity but the distance from my family was an added benefit.”

“Well, I say this from a place of extreme bias, Boston is the best city.”  

“It has it’s perks.” He could’ve been talking about a good parking deal but the way he smiled at you when he said it made you feel like he was talking specifically about you.  

-

The date ended with Rafe walking you to the train, his coat over your shoulders because the light jacket that you’d worn had proven not warm enough for the early autumn chill that settled in. You talked about your first-grade class and being nervous for the impending year and he listened, saying that sometimes he felt like he was working with six year olds.  

“At least I can curse in front of my co-workers though.” He lamented.  

You laughed, “I’ve definitely let my fair share of curse words go...and heard quite a few from kids in my classes.”  

“Oh man, I’d fucking lose it if some kid started cursing at me.” Rafe replied.  

At the train station you argued for a few minutes over his coat, him insisting that you just hold on to it (“trust me, if I go 24 hours without seeing you again, I’ll be shocked.”), but you told him you had a severe inability to remember to give anything back and likely he’d never see it again, something he doubted, the implication that this would progress far enough that he would be in your apartment eventually there beneath the surface of his words.  

When the train pulled in, the coat left in your possession, Rafe pulling it tighter around your shoulders and promising that he would get it back eventually. “I’ll text you.” He said, as the doors closed. And, by the time you got home, there was a text from Rafe waiting for you.  

-

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#rafe fanfic #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe au #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks au #outer banks fanfic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx au #obx imagine #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #collecting stories #one right thing series

[yandere-for-you]

I do not approve of this kind of thing in real life and if you think I do just because I write about it then that’s YOUR problem. For the rest. Enjoy and tell me what you think!

Also this is based on my other fanfiction Miraculous Life

Also everyone is aged up by 2 years in this.

Adrien would be very, very hard pressed to admit that he may be more like his Father then he or most people thought, trouble with emotions, a little unhinged, and somewhat possessive, as they say. But while Gabriel just doesn't bother with trying to show much emotion, Adrien learned, from a young age, how tried to show or to at least fake his, mainly from his mother. Who told him, though she understood him, most people wouldn't, she was good at that, understanding his father and him. Then she disappeared and everything just...he didn't really know how to explain it, but he felt grief, something he never really experience before now.

It took half of a year before he was finally done with being caged up in his house, so he started planning. It took some time but he did it, getting things sighed for school by sneaking them into his father's paper work and sneaking out to buy a few things for the new year. It was so easy to sneak out of the house, the three adults wouldn't suspect him of doing it. He was to good at acting like the quiet and 'never goes against his father' son. He was so close to getting to the school and then he met...

Her

Someone had slammed into him, knocking him over onto his front. Groaning, he sat up on his knees and turned to see who it was, only to freeze and his heart might have skipped a beat or two when he saw a gorgeous girl around his age, with dark midnight blue hair, but he couldn't see her eyes yet. She had fallen on her butt and was holding what looked like a cookie box from some bakery.

Getting up, he held out his hand to her, "Oh god, I'm so sorry!", when she opened her eyes, his breath hitched as he saw the most beautiful green/hazel eyes with flex of gold he ever saw.

Talking with her hand made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time, he couldn't really place it. It felt like he was connected to her in some way and he didn't ever want to let her go. After talking to her and berating himself for not getting her name, he found her hair clip, which he kept, promising to himself he would see her again and never let her go.

He got caught by his father's assistant, got into a yelling match with his father, and stormed up to his room. Stoneheart happened and he met Plagg, became Chat Noir, and became partners with Ladybug, who already seem familiar. Being Chat Noir helped him sneak out the next day for school then he got to meet her again and got the learn her name!

Her name was (Name) Dupain-Cheng and she became his, what he considers, closest friend. Yeah, Nino and Alya were cool, great people in fact, he like hanging out with them but (Name) was well (Name). She was sweet, nice, easy to fluster sometimes, funny, super down to earth, and wasn't afraid to stick up to Chloé or anyone. He also felt like she understood him, something he hadn't felt like a lot of people had in a long time, he didn't have to fake things around her.

Adrien always wondered if Father felt the same way about Mom, maybe. In a long ago memory, he vaguely remembers his father always clinging to her after she was at home, and especially if she had just come home, even if it was just to the store. Something she had refused to let anyone else do, his mom enjoyed shopping herself, always taking Adrien with her. He become a...well..shut in after his mom disappeared and he even shut himself away from his own son.

Being Chat Noir and partners with Ladybug was great, he was happy after so long of being locked away but then something happened that made him feel something that he thought he'd never had..

protectiveness

Ladybug took a hit from CopyCat meant for him and he sort of lost it, his partner had been okay but she had deep cuts from the villain's claws then he got a another shock when the next day (Name) had been injured in the same area that the heroine had been. When she hadn't said what injured her, it just made him become more over protective, he barely let her do anything, like carry her own books or bag, doing it for her which made her huff but she relented when he used The Eyes on her.

At night was when he really let his more animal side out, Plagg had explain to him the more he used his ring the more he would take on traits of a cat. Such as being territorial and possessive over things, which he had to control not jumping poor (Name) when ever he was around her but on nights where he was just him paroling, he wouldn't show mercy to anyone. Yeah, sure Ladybug could be the same way, throwing a punch and being violent but she would never permanently scar anyone like he does.

Like now, where he had taken care of a few bad people, they laid around the alleyway with probably broken bones and scars..one might have lost an eye. His claws dripped with their blood as he left them there and made his way, not home but to (Name)'s house. The hero carefully slipped through the hatch of her roof, he swore he saw something red flash away and hid somewhere but that could have been his eyes playing tricks on him because of the fairy lights that hung around her bed, the only light in the room. Chat kneeled at the foot of her bed, watching her as the lights reflected off her face, which was surrounded by her messy bed head, as she was sprawled out and lightly snoring away, with light drool dripping down her chin and even all that he thought she was prefect.

The tomcat was thanking everything that she was a heavy sleeper, and that the blood on his face and claws had dried, as he crawled over her. Chat leaned over and slowly pressed a kiss to her forehead then pressed one to the corner of her lips, but not wanted to push further than that. Quickly, he left back through the hatch and back to his house.

The day she said yes to being his girlfriend was one of the best day of his life but it didn't stop him from checking up on her at night. Ladybug got hurt, again, which made him lose it but he was able to get the bracelet were the akuma was. Only to be smacked with the realization that she was (Name) was Ladybug, when she came running back to the Zoo with the same injury from minutes before. He had to hold all of it back not to just grab her and hide her away from the world, she wouldn't like it and would fight him and he really didn't want that. So, he had his Princess promise that she'd be more careful, which she did, but it still didn't stop him from worrying.

Let it be clear, that when Adrien first met Lila Rossi, he didn't like her, he didn't hate her...at first. She was just annoying and her lies were garbage, the model grew up around better liars that were younger then her, and also, she couldn't stay out of his fucking space. Adrien was saved by his lovely princess, who was nearly choking on her drink, which gave him the opening to get away from the leech trying to attach itself to him and he quickly made sure she was okay then stuck to her side the whole time. He didn't miss the way Lila glared at (Name) with malice, which definitely switch him not liking her to hating her, very quickly. Then Volpina happened and that was....something but they didn't see that snake afterwards...what a shame..really.

How he found out his Father was Hawkmoth wasn't an accident, really. he knew something felt wrong after he was akumatized. So, after talking with him and leaving his office, he used his phone to connect to the cameras inside the man's office, and saw and heard everything, watching at he pressed buttons on the painting of his mother, causing a hole to open up in the floor under his father and lower him down. Then and there, Adrien decided he needed to know what this was about too, a feeling like he needed to know, so, he waited until the middle of the night and snuck down the stairs then had Plagg cut the cameras again as he snuck into the designer's officer.

He made his way over to the painting and quickly pressed the buttons he remembered, holding very still as the hole opened up beneath him, lowering him down then up, too somewhere full of white butterflies. Holding back a gasp, he realized very quickly that these weren't normal butterflies...

They were akumas.

Why would his father have akumas? Unless...his father was Hawkmoth?

Taking a deep breath, he left quickly back to his room so he could think somewhere, without getting caught. Adrien sat on his bed, with Plagg sitting on his shoulder, "Those were akumas, weren't they, Plagg?"

"Sorry to say, kid but yeah they are.

He leaned over, lacing his fingers together, thinking, "That would mean my father...."

The kwami pressed himself closer to his holder, "Yeah, looks like our hunch was right. So, are you gonna tell Ladybug?", that got the hero thinking, and it wasn't good thinking, he thought about him telling (Name), them confronting his fa-Hawkmoth, and his princess getting hurt, so hurt, she might not bounce back from it.

No,no,no,no, he won't let that happen.

"Kid? You okay there? You look like you're about to have a panic attack.", he snapped out of his spiraling thoughts to look at his kwami.

Adrien took another deep breath, trying to calm himself, "Yeah, Plagg, I'm fine but no, I'm not gonna tell her anything..yet. I'm gonna take care of it myself."

Plagg stared at him, then sighed, "Alright kid, but ask me if you need anything."

Who knew Plagg had a deep knowledge of colorless, odorless, and tasteless poisons that would make it seem his father had a heart attack. Of course, he had ask his kwami how he knew so much and he simply replied with, “My last holder was a scientist of some kind, so I picked up a few things.", he shrugged, like it was no big deal, Adrien didn't ask anything more.

It was so easy to sneak it into his father's morning coffee, it was slow attaching and since his father had been having a stressful week, it would simply look like a heart attack. After that was said and done, Adrien now stood on the stairs watching as the paramedics from the ambulance, that Nathalie had called, take Gabriel away on a stretcher with her going with him. His bodyguard placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked at him, making sure to seem as worried as possible, he patted his hand then removed as he walked up to his room, he'll get the Butterfly Miraculous later, after calling up his friends and his princess.

Later, his friends had left, after making sure the model was okay, but he had quietly begged (Name) to stay the night and after going back to get an over night bag and talking with her parents, who had been inform of what had happened, who were a little uncertain about it but gave in because they were worried about Adrien staying by himself. As he lays there, in their pjs, sitting on his couch as they watched a movie, with his head laying on her shoulder, he thought maybe he was more like his father then originally thought because if someone tried to take away the one he loves, he'll deal with them but unlike his father, he'll deal with them personally.

#yandere #ML #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #yandere chat noir #chat noir #reader insert #adrien agreste #Yandere Adrien

[labelleofbelfastcity]

fig and gorgug’s excellent adventure

word count: 1.7k

read on ao3 here!

“Bill, my most esteemed colleague…”

Fig looks over at a quietly snoring Gorgug, his face softly lit by the shadows of Bill and Ted on her crystal. Even after a year of knowing each other, a few months of which were spent in a cramped cell together, she hadn’t known he snores. It had never been quiet enough, she had never been quiet enough, to notice that about him.

If Fig focuses, she can feel the rumble of the tour bus against her back, and, if she leans her head against the metal wall by her shoulder, the vibrations of tires over asphalt rattle around in her skull. They’ve only been on the road for a week, with just two concerts under their belts, and Fig is already kind of exhausted.

It’s a lot. The managers and the calls home and the makeup assignments for missed schoolwork. She probably wouldn’t even be doing the latter, but Gorgug spends his allotted midmorning time sitting at their extremely tiny table, with papers of Barbarian Theory and Engineering 1 scattered around him, and she’d feel like an asshole to just watch.

Fig hasn’t been sleeping well, either. The little bunk seems to press in around her, shoving her into an even smaller version of herself. Which feels stupid to complain about, because Gorgug is over a foot taller than her, since his growth spurt over the summer, and he’s sleeping just fine.

As if to prove her point, Gorgug shifts in his sleep, curling closer into Fig’s side. It’s just past one in the morning, and they have a gig tomorrow so Fig should really be sleeping too, but she’d felt like crying, for some reason, alone in her bunk. She’d crawled into Gorgug’s, instead, and pulled up Bill and Ted while he blinked blearily at her. It didn’t take him much longer to fall back asleep—now with his arm tucked around Fig’s shoulders—and Fig continues to hide from her emotions by watching Ted philosophize.

“Hey, Gorgug,” Fig hisses, burrowing her head into his chest in a way she knows will stick him with her horns. “Gorgug.”

“Hrmgh,” he grumbles, shifting more so that Fig can’t really poke him anymore. “Go to sleep.”

“No. Gorgug, hey. Come on, dude, I have an idea.” She doesn’t, really, more the idea of an idea, just like how Bill and Ted only operate on negative brian power and a pretty homoerotic bromance.

Homoerotic. She must’ve texted Kristen too much yesterday.

“Sleep is my idea,” Gorgug says, but it’s more of a sigh and a yawn wrapped up together and stretched like a yawning cat.

Fig’s brain unhelpfully supplies an image of sleepy Riz—ears cocked all funny and pupils absolutely giant. She shoves it back into the little chest lovingly marked “Bad Kids” that she’d constructed the second they drove away from Elmville because Fig is great at compartmentalizing and hiding her feelings. Totally.

“I’m bored, I want to do my idea.”

“You’re watching Bill and Ted.”

“No, I’m not. I’m talking to you.”

“Then stop talking to me and go to sleep.”

Fig huffs, about to say something just into the realm of mean, but then she feels Gorgug smile against the top of her head, and she relaxes a little.

“What’s your idea?” He asks, still sleepy, but also endearing in that goofy and sweet Gorgug way.

There’s a pause, while Fig tries to come up with her idea. The bus trundles along and Bill and Ted continue to kidnap historical figures. Finally, she says, much quieter than is warranted, like it’s some big secret she’s been holding close to her heart, “I’m gonna find a chronomancer so we can go back in time.”

“Like Augefort?” Gorgug yawns again.

“Absolutely not, Augefort doesn’t have Rufus energy.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Maybe not a chronomancer, then, but like, someone who’s fucked with time, ya know. It would be cool to hang out with someone who’s fucked with time.”

“Like Augefort?” Gorgug says, before amending, “No. Wait. Rufus.”

“Yeah, Rufus,” Fig agrees. “Except if Rufus were hot, I think it would be more fun if our Rufus was hot.”

“Rufus is already hot. He’s got… sunglasses.”

Fig giggles and Gorgug snorts too. “You need your eyes checked, dude.”

“We watched the,” he yawns, “the Matrix last month. That’s what you said about Neo.”

“Uh. Neo is Keanu Reeves so just, automatically hot. Which. Speaking of. Bill and Ted are right there, dude.”

Gorgug laughs, quietly, voice still gummy with sleep, as he pokes her gently in the side, “I thought you liked older men.”

Fig makes a face that is very scandalized and very affronted. “That doesn’t mean I like Rufus.”

Gorgug shrugs, as best he can while in cuddle-mode. “I don’t know…”

Fig huffs and whacks him on the arm. “Maybe we should go to sleep.”

“Works for me,” he says, and settles back down.

“Hey. Hey! Don’t go back to bed, Gorgug. I’m still talking.”

He grumbles and turns his head even further into hers, trying to shield his eyes from the crystal’s light. “Watch your movie.”

“This is our movie, Gorgug. It’s ours.”

“It’s too late for it to be ‘our’ anything.”

“You’re no fun, you know that? No fun.”

“I’m sorry,” Gorgug says, way too sincerely for her to continue down that line of teasing.

“Hey, no, it’s fine. You’re tired, I should let you rest.”

Gorgug’s hand moves where it’s on her shoulder, rubbing over her sleep shirt, and then pausing, “Hey, is this mine?”

“Um,” Fig says, because it is, in fact, his. He’d left one of his Owlbears t-shirts on a chair, right after they unpacked all their stuff onto the tour bus, and she’d thought about it for approximately three seconds before snatching it and chucking it at her pile of clothes.

That first night, neither her nor Gorgug had gotten any sleep, sitting on the floor of the bus between their bunks, anxiously going over lyric and style choices for the next night’s show. So the shirt had waited until after their first concert, when both of them had been too tired to do much more than change out of sweaty, smoke-filled clothes and fall into their respective beds. It had smelled comfortingly of the Thistlesprings’ homemade fabric softener, but Fig’s varying states of cleanliness have not helped the smell stick around.

Now, though, cuddled up against Gorgug’s chest, she doesn’t miss the shirt’s smell. It’s nothing compared to the real thing.

“It’s okay if you took it,” Gorgug says, cracking a small smile. “It looks better on you anyway.”

“Since when do you have an eye for fashion, Mr. Hoodies-In-Summer?”

He reaches around and pokes her on the cheek, “Hey, my hoodies are a catch for women ages thirteen to twenty-eight.”

“We did sell, like, a literal ton last night,” Fig says, snorting.

There’s a lull in the conversation. Bill and Ted shred some sick air guitar.

“...It’s a little weird,” Gorgug says, eventually, in that introspective tone of his that promises paternal questioning.

“What is?”

“That we’re sophomores in high school and have so many people, like, caring about us. Or, I mean, watching us. Like, I guess we’re famous, or something? That’s weird.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I guess I never thought about it like that.” Fig’s been too caught up in the whole being famous thing to think about what it means for her, a fifteen year old, to be famous. She isn’t a fan of thinking about it, actually, and decides to put it off even further. This is why Gorgug’s the thoughtful, considerate one.

“That’s probably why you’re better at songwriting than I am,” Gorgug muses. “You just do what feels right.”

Fig shifts a little, so she can look at him better, his features cast in the shifting colors of the crystal. “Dude, that’s like all drumming is. Like, just playing your emotions and not overthinking it. And you’re literally the world’s best drummer.”

“Oh,” Gorgug laughs, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“You are. What other teenager gets to go on a tour while they’re still in high school?”

“Um. The Jonas Brothers?”

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if you compare our music to the Jonas Brothers again I will stab you with my horns.”

“I really don't think they’re poky enough to do that—”

“Stab, Gorgug. With force. You wouldn’t like it.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll take your word for it.”

“Wo-ah,” Ted says, on the crystal.

“Wicked,” Bill chimes in.

“What if we talked like them at our next concert?” Fig asks, “Just come out with full Bill and Ted voices and keep them up the whole show.”

“That sounds… hard.”

“No, it would be fun! Like, um,” Fig switches into the voice, drawing out her vowels and smiling dumbly, “we’ll totally get babes like this, dude.”

“You can get princess babes,” Gorgug says. “I’ve got Zelda. That’s basically the same thing.”

“Oh my god, you’re too cute,” Fig burrows closer to him, back in her usual voice.

She can tell Gorgug’s blushing by the bashful tone of his silence. “Um, thanks. I should probably call her tomorrow.”

“Do you mind if I join too? I really like her, she’s nice. And sick as hell.”

“Yeah, that would be fun! We can show her our set, maybe.”

“Totally! If school wasn’t on right now we could’ve brought her along.”

“I don’t know, wouldn’t that, like, Beatles us?”

“Did you seriously just mention another boy band? Also, beyond that, did you use the Beatles as a verb?”

“Er.”

“Sometimes, I wonder how you ever made it into the punk-rock scene. And then I remember that I invited you.”

“Thanks for doing that,” Gorgug says, wrapping his other arm around Fig’s shoulders. “I never really said it before, but, thank you. This has, um, it’s meant a lot to me.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, dude.”

“It’s, like, kind of everything right now, Fig.”

“Oh.”

“So, I guess, um, thank you. For inviting me to join a band with you and taking me on tour.”

“I, uh… Of course. Thanks for being my drummer, Gorgug. I’ll always take you on my adventures.”

“And I’ll always go with you.”

Bill says, “Excellent,” on the crystal screen, smiling at Ted with big eyes.

Yeah, Fig thinks, as Gorgug sighs and smiles into the top of her head. Excellent.

#bellewrites #this one was short so i figured id post it like this #fantasy high #dimension 20 #fig faeth #gorgug thistlespring #i want more content about them so i decided to make it #fic #fanfic #hopefully the formatting works if it doesnt i sincerely apologize

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Wake-Up Calls and Watermelon (SPN/CM)

Criminal Minds / Supernatural crossover! 

Word Count: ~2140

Warnings: Irresponsible use of pink feathery handcuffs, but don’t worry, Sam is there to give a safety lecture. Kiddie pools, kittens, an emotional support cyberterrorist, and so much fluff. Ridiculous escapism at its finest. Everybody needs a smile these days, right? 

A/N: Four mornings on the Wayward Sons World Tour. This is part of the Rockstar AU, but it can be read on its own, as can most of that series. There’s no real plot, just shenanigans and silliness. 

Thanks to @stunudo​ and @fookinghelljensensthighs​ for pre-reading and inspirational photographs, respectively! 

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 4: somewhere between Miami and Orlando, FL

Something is meowing. 

Rossi frowns to himself and opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bunk. 

Something is meowing on his bus. 

His first thought would ordinarily be Penelope and one of her assorted stuffed animals or weird talking figurines. Spencer could also potentially be the culprit, depending on what sort of chemicals were in his system. Last time Rossi checked, though, both of them were on the other bus, where the shenanigans are supposed to happen. This is the quiet bus, where the grownups sleep. 

The mysterious something meows again. 

Bad enough that he’s slumming it sleeping on a goddamn tour bus. Now there’s a goddamn petting zoo on board. Rossi sighs and gets out of his bunk to investigate. 

“Who’s the cutest kitten in the entire world?” Morgan is sitting on the ground in the front, smiling adoringly at a tiny ball of black fuzz he’s cradling in his palms. “Who’s the sweetest little furball I’ve ever seen, hmm?” 

“How on God’s green earth did you find a kitten at —” Rossi glances at the clock on the microwave. “—nine in the morning in the middle of Florida?” 

Morgan looks a little guilty, but Rossi can’t tell if it’s because he has a kitten or because he got caught using that ridiculous high-pitched voice. 

“We’re at a rest stop so the drivers can get a couple hours’ sleep, and Hotch and I were stretching our legs, and they were in a box close to the highway,” Morgan explains. “He was the only one who was still alive. I couldn’t just leave him there.” 

The door opens, and Hotch comes in, carefully carrying a small dish of water. He’s followed by Sam Winchester, who has an upside-down drum that’s padded with a towel. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Rossi mutters, watching the three grown men surround the kitten and coo at it. Morgan tucks it into the drum and it curls up happily, meowing its appreciation. 

Sam’s phone rings, and he digs it out of his pocket and answers: “Yeah? No, we got water, we just — no, Dean, Jesus. Just the hoodie. Did you find it?” He pauses and scowls, stepping away from the others and lowering his voice. “No, that’d be way too big for it, are you kidding me? That collar was specially made… no! Leave the fucking leash, Dean, it’s not like we’re taking the kitten for walks.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, bring the feathery thing, just — oh for fuck’s sake, leave that bag alone before you find something you really don’t — Dean. Yeah. Cool.” He grimaces and hangs up. 

“Do I want to know?” Rossi asks, with a new sense of respect. 

“No,” Sam says firmly. He turns back to Hotch and Morgan and announces, “Dean’s bringing some stuff we can use as cat toys, and a big hoodie with a pocket so you can carry it around.” 

“Sweet. Thanks, man,” Morgan says, flashing a bright grin. He’s all googly-eyed. 

“What should we name it?” Sam asks, crouching down and rubbing under the kitten’s chin with one careful finger. 

They all take a moment to consider. The little ball of fluff is purring, and even Rossi has to admit that it’s goddamn adorable. 

“What kind of drum is that?” Hotch asks Sam, who grins. 

“Pearl.” 

“Pearl!” Morgan echoes delightedly. “Who’s the prettiest little black pearl, hmm?” 

“I guess we need to find a pet store,” Rossi sighs, and settles in to get to know his grand-kitten.

***

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 7: Atlanta, GA

“Wheels up in fifteen,” Hotch is shouting, banging on the hotel room door. JJ groans without opening her eyes and tries to pull Emily closer, rubbing her cheek against the soft worn cotton of Emily’s shirt. 

“What the fuck,” Emily mumbles. 

“Oh, seriously, what the fuck,” comes Penelope’s voice. The fact that it’s coming from somewhere above JJ is what makes her frown and open her eyes. 

She and Emily are on the floor, lying in a sort of nest, which upon closer inspection seems to be made up of an inflatable kiddie pool filled with blankets. 

Penelope is peering over the edge of her bed at them, squinting blearily, last night’s hot pink lipstick smeared down her chin. She appears to be wearing a plastic coconut bra over her shirt. 

“Huh,” JJ says. She pulls a lei off her neck. “Did we throw a tiki party last night?” 

“That would seem to be the case,” Emily says slowly. She rolls over and wraps her arms around JJ. “Five more minutes.” 

“Solid plan,” JJ answers, snuggling in. The kiddie pool is surprisingly comfortable. 

“Not if we have to pack up and get our sorry asses on the bus in fifteen minutes,” Penelope reminds them. 

“Fuck.” 

“I smell like… like daiquiris and regret,” Penelope sighs. She wrestles the coconut bra off and flings it across the room. 

“You can have first shower,” Emily says generously. 

JJ hears Penelope pad across the floor, and then there’s a surprised yelp from the bathroom. 

“Is Spencer in the tub again?” JJ mutters. 

“Yes, but oh my god, you guys, you need to come see this,” Penelope says, giggling. JJ groans, head spinning, but manages to get up. She hauls Emily to her feet. 

JJ pokes her head through the bathroom door and snorts. Spencer’s wearing one of those cheap fake grass skirts over his jeans and there’s a top hat perched on his head. He’s got his arms wrapped around a tacky pink flamingo lawn ornament. 

“Em, get your—”

“On it,” Emily says, already reappearing with her phone to snap a picture. 

Spencer stirs with a pathetic sort of whining noise. 

“Next time I suggest coconut rum,” he slurs, without opening his eyes, “...remind me I’m a moron, ‘kay?” 

*** 

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 10: near Dallas, TX

“Get your hooves out of the toaster!” Cas says urgently. Dean starts awake and almost falls out of the bunk. He really needs to give up trying to sleep with Cas on the bus; these things were not meant for two people. 

Cas mumbles something about Mufasa and opens his eyes groggily. 

“Fun dreams?” Dean asks, voice raspy with sleep. He cuddles close and presses a kiss to Cas’s pulse. 

“There were wildebeests in the kitchen,” Cas croaks. 

“Sounds like a good time. Coffee?” 

“Mmm.” 

Dean rolls out of the bunk and stretches. The door to the back lounge is open, and he can hear music; he looks inside curiously. 

He remembers Sam saying something about a Doctor Who marathon. Geek.

The DVD menu is up on the little flat-screen, playing the theme music in a loop. Sam’s sprawled out on one of the couches with popcorn in his hair, and Penelope and Charlie are leaning against each other on the other couch. 

Someone snores loudly, but it doesn’t seem to be any of those three. Dean looks around, momentarily confused, until he spots Spencer, who has wedged himself under the tiny table. He’s curled up with what looks like Charlie’s favorite purple hoodie as a pillow, and Pearl is kneading happily at one of his arms. 

“Time’s it?” Sam asks quietly. He sits up, and something pops audibly as he stretches his shoulders. 

“Coffee time,” Dean whispers back. 

He wants to make a snarky quip about how they’ve clearly been partying hard, but Sammy’s looking around the room with such a fond little smile on his face that Dean can’t bring himself to say anything. Instead, he just leads the way through the bunk area, out to the front, where Cas is watching the coffee drip slowly into the pot. 

Dean wraps his arms around Cas and nuzzles into his neck. It’s a good morning. 

***

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 14: Chula Vista, CA

Penelope is just about to get up for a gloriously self-indulgent shower (and if she uses all the hot water while the others are hitting snooze, that’s fully their problem) when there’s a knock on the door.

She peers through the peephole. It’s Dean, aka not at all who she expected. 

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” he says gruffly, when she opens the door. “Um… Spencer said he knows how to pick locks?”

Ooh, this is gonna be fun.  

“He sure does. What’s up?” 

“Um… we need to pick a lock,” Dean tries, and Penelope laughs. 

“Nice try. Gimme the dirty deets.” 

Dean sighs. “Jack is maybe handcuffed to the bed.” 

“No way,” Penelope says gleefully. “Okay, I will wake the boy wonder, hang on.” 

She ushers Dean into their room, shushing him and pointing to JJ and Emily, who are still asleep, before poking Spencer. 

“Are you sleeping in a kiddie pool?” Dean asks. 

“Mmph,” Spencer assents, rubbing his eyes. “M’comfy.” 

Penelope shrugs at Dean as if to say, what can you do? 

“So there is a bit of a situation I was hoping you could help with,” Dean says. “A lock picking situation? It’s, um, a pair of handcuffs.” 

Spencer doesn’t bat an eye, bless his heart. He just shrugs and unfolds himself from the kiddie pool, picking up his wallet from the desk. 

Penelope grabs a robe and her glasses, because while she wouldn’t ordinarily show her face while she’s still in pajamas, there’s no way in hell she’s missing this. Dean looks like he’s about to protest. 

“She’s my emotional support cyberterrorist,” Spencer tells him. “She’s coming.” 

“Excuse you, former cyberterrorist,” Penelope says, as dignified as she can manage while wearing a fuzzy zebra-patterned robe. “I prefer to think of myself as your fairy godmother.” 

“No teasing him,” Dean says sternly, but leads the way out the door. 

“You really trying to tell me you found the kid handcuffed to a bed and nobody is going to tease him about it?” 

“Well,” Dean amends, with a smug grin. “Nobody but his family is allowed to tease him. Don’t worry, though, we took pictures.” 

“Yeah, okay. That seems fair.” 

Dean leads the way into the Ceiling Fires’ suite and points them to one of the bedrooms. 

Penelope can hear Sam’s voice when they get to the open door: “I told you, they’re single-latch. You pull on those the wrong way, they’ll cut off your circulation and — oh, hey, guys.” 

Not only are they handcuffs, they’re handcuffs adorned with pink fluff. They’ve pulled a blanket up to Jack’s chest, but he’s clearly naked under it, and he’s blushing so hard he basically matches the handcuffs. 

“Good morning,” he says politely. 

Penelope gives him a cheerful wave. “Don’t mind me. Spencer’s here to rescue you.” 

Spencer is unfazed. He pulls a tiny flat case from inside his wallet and pulls out a couple picks. Sam and Dean are both watching him like hawks. Mother hens. Overprotective mother hawks? Something like that. 

It barely takes a second before the lock clicks open. 

Jack breathes a sigh of relief and rubs his wrists. “Thank you. Seriously.” 

“You gotta teach me that,” Sam says to Spencer. He grabs the handcuffs and lifts them between two fingers like they’ve personally offended him. 

“It’s easy once you understand the principle of it,” Spencer tells him, showing him the picks. “See, this pushes the tumbler—” 

“Where’d you go?” comes a low British voice from the main room, and then Harry motherfucking Styles is wandering through the door, wearing a turquoise silk kimono and holding a half-eaten slice of watermelon. “What on Earth are you doing with those? I have my leather — oh.” He looks from Penelope to Spencer, blinking. “I… don’t know you, do I?” 

“Shit,” Dean mutters. “When did you get here?” 

“Wee hours.” He takes a bite of watermelon, tongue-first, and chews slowly. 

Penelope is staring. She should really stop staring and say something cool. 

“You look sorta familiar,” Spencer offers, with a little wave. “Did you sell me E at a warehouse party in Boston a couple years ago? Cause I gotta say, that was a weird night.” 

“Pretty sure that wasn’t me,” he says pensively. “But stranger things have happened.” 

Harry goddamn Styles is licking juice off his fingers and dimpling in her general direction and this cannot be real life. 

“The watermelon is a little on the nose, don’t you think?” Penelope blurts out. Sam snorts from somewhere behind her. 

“They were all out of kiwis, I’m afraid,” Harry drawls. “You want some? More in the kitchen. Bananas, too, and—”  

“Hey, guys?” Jack interrupts, from where he’s got the covers pulled up to his chin. “Um… would you mind taking this outside so I can put some clothes on?” 

There’s a chorus of apologies. Spencer asks about coffee as they all start to filter out the door, and Penelope heads to the kitchen to eat watermelon with Harry Styles, because apparently this is her life now. 

.

.

.

#supernatural #criminal minds #spn x cm #crossover #cm fic #supernatural fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

[driversmutbucket]

Kitten Part IX

Kylo Ren AU x Reader

lol @ me for thinking I could wrap this up in one part. Yeah, absolutely not, this is the first of 3 parts/time jumps, so this part is on the shorter side. 

Warnings: tooth rotting domestic fluff, NSFW, sub/dom, dirty talk, oral sex, ass eating, butt plug

Recap: if you had to skip the previous part due to the content, Kylo relapsed into a past drug addiction he had been keeping a secret from y/n. Y/n finds Kylo in a bit of state and learns of Kylo’s secret. The character of Luke is introduced. He is an older gentleman and friend of Kylo’s from Narcotics Anonymous. He guides and supports y/n and Kylo in the following weeks as Kylo recovers from his bender. Declarations of love are made.

6 months later

You heard a key in the front door, just as you put the kettle on. You were fresh from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy robe.

It was late, just after 8pm, you hadn’t seen your man yet today, he had been gone when you woke.

Kylo walked into the kitchen, dapper as ever in a black heavy woolen pea coat, hair slightly windswept from the winter weather outside.

“How’s my Kitten?” He asked with a smile, his large hand cupping your jaw.

“I’m good, glad you’re home.” You said, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket and tugging him down to your level, seeking his soft lips.

He hummed into your kiss.

“Speaking of, where is my girl?”

On cue your recently adopted black cat, Ebony, trotted into the kitchen. She slunk over and rubbed against Kylo’s legs.

He stroked her, cooing, “oh who is a little Daddy's girl, huh Bonny?” She purred and arched against his large hand.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Kylo had been against any animals, you had sweet talked him into adopting Ebony from a local shelter. Now she was the apple of his eye, Kylo would carry her around and get sulky when she didn’t sit on his lap on the sofa.

“How was the meeting, how’s Luke?” You asked, turning and pulling a mug from the cupboard, “Tea?”

“No thanks.” He pressed himself against your back, running his hands over your shoulders and kissing the top of your damp head.

“It was the usual and Luke is good, he asked after you.” He murmured before inhaling deeply, “Mmmmm you smell so good.”

“Awh Luke is so sweet.” You smiled, “your dinner is in the oven.” You added.

“What would I do without you?” Kylo turned your head with his hand and planted another kiss on your lips.

“Well, for one thing you would, starve.” You grinned.

He scoffed, opening the oven to retrieve his plate.

—

Kylo never moved back to his apartment after his two week stint of recovery at your house. It was unspoken, but there was too much pain and reminders of failure held in those walls, so he only returned to pack up his possessions. A lot of which he sold or passed on. He loved to exist in your space, surrounded by you.

He did overhaul your wardrobe though, organising it within an inch of its life. Actually most of the house was now organized meticulously. 

You weren’t complaining, it was like having a male Marie Kondo. You accepted that it was a way he felt in control and safe. You liked to brag that you had found a man who liked to do laundry. Whenever you tried to he would look into the wardrobe in horror, uttering an exasperated sigh.

You had finally cleared out the spare bedroom, it had mainly been used as a dumping ground. Kylo transformed it into a home office that you shared. It meant that occasionally you could both indulge in work-from-home days together, where you would drink far too much coffee and distract each other.

—

You were pulled from sleep with a gasp.

“Oh god!” You croaked, coming steadily aware of Kylos hot mouth on your pussy.

He paused and looked up at you.

You would never get sick of seeing his sleep-tousled hair between your legs, especially when he made sounds like he was eating the most delicious meal on earth.

“Oh fuck! Kyyyyyyyyy-!”

“That’s Sir to you this morning, Kitten.”

Oh. Oh.

It still made your stomach flip when you had sex like this. Like when you first met each other.

“Yes Sir”, you breathed.

It was still dark in your room, not even day-break yet.

“Hands and knees.” His voice was husky, lustful.

You scrambled up into position and arched, pushing your bottom into the air.

“Fuck, babygirl, I don’t tell you enough how perfect this ass is.” He pushed your silk nightgown up so your bare ass was exposed and rubbed your plump cheeks with his hands.

He slapped your ass, you yelped in surprise, the sting quickly giving way to pleasure. You know he would be watching how your ass jiggled and rippled.

“You like that Kitten?” He ran his hand between your legs and over your pussy, “your soaking wet little cunt, tells me you did.”

“Yes sir, I like it.” You breathed.

He brought his hand down again, harder this time. You moaned, his mouth soothing the tender skin with licks and kisses.

He pulled apart your cheeks, you squirmed as he kissed your tailbone and licked his way down to your back entrance.

Your moans became louder, pushing back against his mouth as he rimmed you.

“Filthy girl, you love me eating your ass?” He growled, before going back to his ministries.

“Yesyesyes, I love it Sir.” You rasped. He moaned into your skin.

You whined as he suddenly stopped and got off the bed.

You heard him chuckle “Stay as you are Kitten, no looking.”

You could hear him rifling in a drawer. Probably the drawer.

You stayed as still as you could with bated breath.

Your breath hitched as the bed dipped under Kylo’s weight.

“Good girl Kitten, such a good girl for me.” He praised, you flinched as he spread cold lube on your ass.

Cold silicone pressed against your asshole, you tried to relax as Kylo slowly pushed a plug in.

You whimpered as your tight passage sucked it in completely, the round top nestling between your cheeks. Kylo tapped it a few times, you hissed in pleasure.

It started to vibrate, you gasped- this was new.

“Oh! holy fuck!” you groaned.

He slapped your ass again.

You cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation of the vibrating plug being pushed in hard momentarily, dragging against your inner walls.

“How does that feel Kitten?” Kylo asked, you could hear the smirk and lust in his voice.

“AmazingitissogoodSir.” You babbled.

After 5 move spanks you were a quivering mess. He hadn’t touched your throbbing mess of a pussy, and you needed something, soon.

“Pleeeeeeese, Sir, baby! Fuck!” You pleaded. Beyond frustrated.

“Use your words baby girl, I want to hear you say it.” Kylo breathed, he was panting, you could imagine how rock hard and angry his cock would be.

“Fuck me- put your cock in me- please Sir! I need it!” You almost sobbed, legs shaking.

You wished you could see the expression on his face. The sound he made was guttural and feral- a rumbling deep within his chest.

He dragged the head of his cock through your lips, you bucked your hips desperately.

He didn’t have the patience to tease you more than that, pushing into your sopping entrance in a quick, hard motion.

Sounds of relief and pleasure erupted from the both of you.

“Fuck- I can feel the plug- fuck!” He gritted out as he began to rock into you.

You were beyond forming sentences. The vibrations in your ass and the drag of his thick cock had you in another realm.

Kylo reaches around and began rubbing your clit in strong circular motions.

You were on the cusp already, it took mere seconds for pleasure to explode through your body. The strength of your orgasm made you almost scream, your body giving out, Kylo held you up long enough to thrust into you a few more times, until he came inside you with a growling groan.

You were a boneless pile on the bed, the plug still buzzing inside you.

“You’ve killed me.” You mumbled into the mattress, as Kylo peppered soft kisses on the make of your neck and down your back before switching the plug off.

“Good way to go?” He chuckled.

“Undoubtedly.” You smiled, as you sat yourself up.

—

You woke the next morning, curled up against Kylo’s chest, sun streaming into the room through the cracks in the curtain.

You got out of bed quietly, as Kylo continued to snore softly, Ebony was curled up in his bent legs, behind his knees.

You smiled at the sweet scene before padding out into the kitchen to switch on the coffee machine.

You loved the slow, gentle nature of Sunday’s.

As the coffee brewed you connected your phone to the speaker system and put on some David Bowie softly.

You were swaying your hips and singing along to Absolute Beginners as you poured coffee into your mug when two large hands skimmed your waist and Kylo’s warm body pressed against you.

“Please don’t stop on my account.” He purred as you paused, “you look so sexy shaking your ass in this little nighty.”

You chuckled, reaching for a second mug, as he stayed pressed against you, and kissed your neck.

“Did I have a fever dream, or did you wake me up at 3am, push a vibrating plug in my ass and fuck me, Mr Ren?” You asked innocently as you poured him a cup.

You turned and handed it to him, his eyes were still bleary from sleep and he was only wearing boxers slung low on his hips.

“Dunno what you are talking about, you little nympho.” He grinned, eyes twinkling.

——

Tag list: @reyloaddict55​ @candycanes19​ @jediminddicks1000​ @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @maybe-your-left​ @thegreenmatt​ @morby​ @sydneyssmut​ @contesa-lui-alucard​ @millenialcatlady​

#fan fiction #filth and smut #kylo ren au #reader x kylo #kitten #smutbucket

[writingmorsels]

Prompt: Surprise...?

One year after the happenings with The Company, you and Alex have finally found kind of an equilibrium. You two have bought a house together in some white-picked-fence neighborhood and you were even thinking about adopting a pet, to fill out the house. Well, you're gonna fill the house alright, but not with an animal.

You've been under the wind for a while now and it was frustrating.

You were temporarily the only breadwinner in the house, while Alex tried to have his old job back, and responding to a dispatch call while retching on your toilet wasn't the greatest feeling to start the day with.

You stopped a fight between two very angry, very 'I want to see your manager' looking women. You had to do a welfare check for an old man that almost shot you in the head with a sawed off shotgun. You had to respond to a domestic violence report only to discover it was for a couple really into roleplay.

You were tired.

Legs like jelly, you barely managed to reach for the bathroom before you could empty the contents of your stomach against the porcelain for the upteenth time that week.

Alex didn't know any of that and for a good reason: he already crucifixed himself for not being able to regain his job or any job really, because of his past. He didn't have to worry about your health, either. He was already a sweetheart with you as is.

It was just a stomach bug, you had worse.

Besides, Alex was busying himself at home while you were back on the field: he kept the house clean, did the laundry and, especially, he finally learned to cook something other than 'reheat bought stuff into the microwave'.

The first dishes were… okay. Edible.

But lately he managed to make something actually delicious… and it all ended up in the gutter, after you had another episode.

You came out of the precinct bathroom and flopped onto the nearest chair, at dispatch's station. "Ugh, someone got smashed yesterday or what?" You heard one of your coworkers joke and you groaned back to him, massaging your aching stomach. "Shuddup Mitchell... it's a stomach bug I can't shake off," you whined a little, making the man smirk. "Oh, so you don't wanna meet the recent reject from K-9? He was so eager…!" and a yapping sound made you perk up again. At your feet was a German Shepherd puppy, the fluffiest and cutest you ever seen.

Your eyes lit up as you bent down, meeting with the jumpy, shaky, ecstatic pup. “Oh my God you so cute! Awww yiss you aaare!” your voice came out as a high-pitched mess, almost mimicking the puppy’s yapps.

Your hands went to grab him underneath his front paws and hoisted him up, laughing as the little doggie started to lick your face.

Needless to say, not even ten minutes later you were sitting on the chair with the now sleepy pup melting into the crook of your elbow.

He had his front paws folded on themselves and he was nuzzling against your chest with small little snores coming from his nose. "He sure warmed up to you quickly!” Mitchell laughed, seeing the dog relaxed “Ready to bring him home already?"

Mitch knew of the cat-dog debacle in your home, so it came natural for you to ask him to keep him in the K-9 kennels for a little while. “I still have to speak with Alex about it… but I’m sure he would love him. Look at him…! Aww sho tired, good boy!” your attention went back to the puppy again, feeling him turn a little into your baby-hold.

You were having the time of your life, for once not even remembering your terrible mornings. “Aww, you’re practicing?” a voice joked and you moved your head to see one of your friends from dispatch, Lauren, approaching her desk.

You smiled, confused. “Practicing?” “Yeah! For the baby!” she replied to your question, pointing a finger towards the sleepy puppy in the crook of your elbow.

Baby?

“What are you talking about?” your voice came out with a slight hint of fear in its tone and Lauren giggled, putting her coffee down just so she could grab her headset. “Morning sickness, it never changes! In my second pregnancy it was even worse! If you want, I can give you a recipe for a miraculous smoothie."

You froze on the spot, her words hitting you so hard they almost knocked you over; all slowly came together with the nausea first thing in the morning, the strange tiredness, the moodiness that seemed to anticipate a shark week that never came.

Lauren noticed your uncomfortableness and furrowed her brows. “What’s wrong?” “N-no!...no I’m...it’s- I've changed pills recently, I’m not...” you lied through your teeth, eyes large as eggs and skin going a little pale.

You felt nauseous again, for different reasons.

You didn't even think about the possibility of…

Yeah your shark week still wasn't nowhere to be found, but you were only just a little late, it happened all the time. You were just...stressed.

That wasn’t the time nor the place to be pregnant. If you got stuck in maternity, how would you two pay for bills and food?

And Alex...oh your poor darling, after a year he still wasn't over Cameron's death and you wouldn't blame him.

You couldn't give him another heartache like that, giving him another child like some kind of substitute.

He would start spiraling down again like after everything ended with the Company, when he finally stopped worrying and let himself grieve.

You couldn’t do that to him, no no no...

With panic starting to fizzle in the back of your brain you watched Lauren, who looked amused. "Oh I get it! Yeah, changing those is always a pain…!" she shrugged before taking a sip of her coffee, booting up her computer.

Even Mitchell felt the awkwardness of the moment, because he broke it by leaning forward and grabbing the pup from your arm. “I’ll keep him for a little more, alright! No problem…!” the man smiled forcefully at you, silently asking if you were fine.

You were not fine.

The doubt had been planted.

On your way home you stopped by the nearest pharmacy and after grabbing an antiemetic from over the counter, you stopped in front of the rows and rows of pregnancy tests, uneasy and confused.

Old style? Electronic? Did the type change something? Did it matter?

"Fuck this…" you muttered as you bought a random one.

During the rest of the drive home you felt that little plastic thing weigh on your passenger seat like a block of cement, the pastel-colored box peaking through the paper bag, laughing at you with it’s ‘oh the joy of motherhood!’ packaging design.

Of course if things would’ve been different, you would’ve been thrilled. Having a family with the love of your life was something you always desired.

You would’ve been so happy to give Alex another baby, give Cameron a little brother or sister. Unite their fractured family once again.

Instead, you now had to suffer all that psychological turmoil, because of the Company.

Even after their defeat, they managed to give anguish to you all.

When you finally arrived home you parked in the driveway and waited for a second, for two. Waiting for someone to pop out from outside the frame and yell "That was a joke, there's the camera!".

Nothing moved but you, as you got off the car and trudged inside.

You passed the front door and approached the small table near the entrance, slowly removing part of your gear, one piece at the time.

The radio, the gun, the handcuffs with their keys, your hat and your boots. Everything found its place while your mind was still in utter chaos.

The only thing still glued to your fingers was the small brown paper bag from the pharmacy. "Welcome back honey!" You heard Alex’s voice come out of nowhere, right next to your ear, and you gave out a shrill yelp, grasping at your chest like trying to stop your heart from pounding out of it. "Alex!" You heaved as you turned, seeing him grinning down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "For fuck's sake you gave me a heart attack! Stop being sneaky when I come home!" You added, watching him now starting to laugh uncontrollably, a half apron around his hips and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He was cooking you dinner, as always… sweet bastard. "One of these days I'm gonna shoot you by accident–" "That's why I wait until you're unarmed…!" Alex chuckled back, leaning down to kiss you hello.

You replied in kind, sighing just a little against his lips when they met. "What's that?" you felt him reach for your hand, grabbing the paper bag from your grasp. You came back to reality and his hand on your hip suddenly felt uncomfortable.

You immediately reached back and yanked the bag from him before he could even look inside, taking your forbidden loot to your chest. "Ladies have their secrets…!" You tried to joke, to sell him the lie as best as you could.

You couldn't, but he didn't inquire for the moment. Alex only rose an eyebrow and watched you with his interrogation gaze, making you squirm a little. "Don’t look at me that way, mister! You don’t have to know all that happens to my little lady down there!" you tried to double down on being light and jokey, maybe letting a little frustration come through.

It was a half-truth, was it not? "Well I would love to be let in the loop… Maybe I could help you out with that," he spoke softly, his voice in a good spot between affectionate and erotic.

Out of instinct you took one step backwards, away from him. "No no! No one but my eyes have permission to gaze upon the horrors of some yeast infection...or shit like that" while holding the bag closer, you put a hand on his chest to push him away. “I’ll handle it...just…” your eyes wandered for an instant, thinking. “Just think of this a ‘biohazard zone’ for a couple of days, ok?” your free hand now waved in front of your crotch, making him chuckle. “As long as I can kiss you, I don’t have a problem with that,” he replied, stealing another quick peck from your lips. “Dinner’s almost ready hun, go get changed.” Alex then moved away, towards the kitchenette of your lovely home.

You didn’t wait more than a second before bolting up the stairs to the bathroom, clutching the box through the brown paper. For a moment you remained impressed by your bullshitting ability.

You bullshitted your way out of that situation like Michael Scofield strolled in and out of his jail cell at Fox River (Sucre told you several times about that at every chance he got, when you invited the whole gang over for the holidays).

Closing the door behind you, you aimed for the sink counter and dumped the content of the bag on top of, grabbing the furiatingly pale box and almost tearing it open. Your fingers trembled when you finally grabbed the white-and-pink stick.

It felt like a murder weapon, in your hands. “Ok...how do I…” you mumbled, scared.

You never even think about researching it, it was your very first encounter with something like that. Did you have to...stick it in?

You grabbed the flimsy instruction papers from deep inside the box and opened it, trying to find the right language to read it.

Oh…

You peed on one side and see the result on the other.

Simple, right?

Sure, technically it was as basic as it could come, but no one prepared you for the longest. Three minutes. Of your life.

You sat on the toilet after you did the do, holding the test flat as it was written and watching intently at the little white window.

You saw the first line starting to appear, coloring in a light blue, and your stomach started to churn again. “Please stop there, stop there, c’mon it's just a stomach bug, c’mon c’mon…!” you begged the little demonic stick, your knuckles turning pale for the sheer force you used to hold it.

Your blood thickened in your veins, when the second little line started to appear, the color deepening by the second.

"Oh no."

Oh no indeed. You had to call someone...and your mind immediately picked the best number to call.

"Thank you for coming... I didn't– I don't know what to do."

Sara Tancredi had sat herself in front of you, in the small diner you chose for your encounter.

Little one-year-old Michael had been sleeping in his stroller from the moment he and his mother came in. "No problem, I was around!" The woman smiled at you, her eyes already scanning you.

She saw the paleness of anxiety, cold sweat and dark circles. And the way you grasped at a small brown box like it contained a rabid beast. "What's the problem that Alex isn't allowed to know about?" Sara immediately asked and you shrank in your seat, looking guilty. "Why you thought–" "We're in a public place outside his usual zone, away from your place of work where he sometimes surprises you and you didn't explained over the phone while he was at home," she never dropped the smile, watching you with her seemingly sweet eyes...but you knew there was a tigress behind the gentle façade. "I…" "I've been a drug addict for a good portion of my life...and on the run the rest of it. I can recognize the signs, Y/n. Just tell me, I'm the last person who would judge you."

Slowly your fingers let go of the brown paper and pushed it towards her, across the table. Sara grabbed it, confused, and gasped a little when she saw the pregnancy test box. "You mean…?" She whispered, opening the box and immediately looking at the result window. "I had this stomach bug and–" "how many days are you late?" Sara immediately asked and you blinked, counting mentally. "Five-no, six days. It happens all the time, I didn't think I could be…" your voice trailed off as your favorite Doc smiled even brighter, letting the text down to hold your hands. "Is wonderful! Aw I'm so happy for–" "Sara, is not wonderful…!" You heaved, clawing at her hands. "I'm the only one with a job, a dangerous job. And-and Alex is still mourning his son, how can I...just waltz in and tell him 'here take a replacement'! I... don't know how he would react…"

Silence fell between you two for a long instant, where you felt ready to vomit.

You weren't ready for any answer, really. You didn't want Alex to know and you felt repulsion at the thought of aborting Alex's child, making him lose another.

Then, Sara sighed, patting your hands. "Listen... keeping this a secret is horrendous, for both you and Alex. You have to tell him." The woman tried to find your eyes, pulling at your hands to grab your attention. "Everything could happen, Y/n, especially in your line of work. What if you got wounded while hiding your pregnancy and the first doctor Alex will speak to will make his condolences because your child died? It could lead to a lot more drama…" Sara's usually bright eyes turned dark a little, her expression souring. "If… I never told Michael about his son, he would've died without knowing it... and I plan on telling my son who his father was. Please tell him, Y/n. He's a smart man, you will work this through as a couple…" The good doctor then smiled again, shaking the melancholy off her shoulders. "Think about it, if you decide to keep it, Mike will have a friend to play with!"

You had to wait at least three more weeks for your plan to work out.

The first week and a half were spent building up the courage to make the announcement.

In the remaining time, you studied on the internet how to do it in the best way.

Eating anti-emetic pills as if it was candy, you lied through your teeth when Alex asked if your little lady felt better, telling him that yes, you felt better.

You tried to act natural, but the more time passed, the more you felt sick and the more time you spent evading Alex, knowing he would grill an answer out of you if he ever suspected something.

After work, you spent as much time as possible driving around searching for the items you needed.

Sara agreed to accompany you to your gynecologist, making it look like a girls' day out. You and your baby were healthy, the doctor assured you, and the pregnancy was going well. "How come hubby's not here?" The doctor asked and you choked on your saliva. "W-well I'm... I'm planning a surprise for him and-" "aww dear that's so nice! What about taking the baby's first photo to add to the surprise?" The man cheered, prepping the machine.

Your hands shook around the freshly printed black and white photo, Sara laughing at your side and telling you to breathe.

You practically sat in front of the entrance door when you bought online one of the items you needed, grabbing the Amazon box like Gollum would do with his precious, running upstairs where you hid all away in your closet.

Then, THE Sunday morning came.

You two had a really intense, really intimate encounter the night before and Alex was still asleep on his side of the bed. His naked body was always a pleasure to see first thing in the morning, you thought as you rolled over to give him a soft kiss on his cheek. "Breakfast in bed…?" You asked in a whisper, obtaining a low 'yah' muffled in the pillow.

With a little chuckle you kissed him again, this time searching for his lips. “Stay here, I’ll do it.” and then you got off the bed, walking downstairs towards the kitchenette.

Everything had been hidden the night before in strategic places, knowing you'd be the first to come and open the cupboards: there sat a new mug you bought for the occasion, with a cheerful 'good morning handsome' written on the side.

As you grabbed it, you smiled a little when you read the other phrase etched and colored on the inside of the mug.

You're going to be a dad.

Heart, heart, heart.

Then, behind it, you grabbed a pair of boxes. One contained a shirt that you immediately donned, bold text reciting 'sending backup' on your chest.

The second remained closed and found its place on the tray you prepared on the island.

Coffee was made, mugs were filled and a plate of cookies was strategically placed on top of the thin box. Then up you went towards upstairs, where Alex was still enveloped in the blankets like a tired mummy.

You smiled against your anxiety, feeling your hands tremble while holding the tray and the teaspoons inside the mugs clinked as you approached.

You tried to remember Sara’s words, he loved you and you would work that through, as you put down the tray near the end of the bed, but when you bent down you felt your stomach churn again, reminding you that yes, you forgot to buy new antiemetics.

Grin and bear, grin and bear… “Good morning…!” you called in a little singsong voice, feeling your heart stop pounding in your ears when he opened his wonderful, glassy-looking blue eyes, still sleepy but oh so shiny. Gemstones filled with entire oceans. “G’morning honey…” he replied, voice husky and a little gruff, stretching his neck to reach for your lips.

The kiss had been gentle, sweet and warm, his lips still soft from a whole night of good sleep. “Coffee’s ready, c’mon...I brought up your favorite cookies, too.” you moved aside, letting him sit up on the mattress, but instead reached for your hand and pulled you closer for another barrage of soft little pecks. “Mmmh ‘m up,” he mumbled between kisses, eyes closed and body one step closer to fall asleep again.

Oh no you didn’t go through all that trouble for him to just sleep on it..! “You’re not up…! C’mon sleepyhead, before it gets cold!” you chuckled, sincerely amused by his weak try in seducing you back to sleep.

Alex huffed and almost dragged himself to sit up, scratching at his collarbone for an instant before his eyes would finally take in the content on the tray. “What’s the occasion?” he smiled confusedly, brows furrowed as he grabbed the new mug, chuckling as he read the outside.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him. “Well, we’ve been in kinda of a rough patch, lately...with too much job or no job at all,” you started to explain, putting a couple of fingers on the thin box so he couldn’t take it immediately. “This is...a gift...for you,” your voice cracked for a second, nervousness starting to show.

He saw that and for a moment Alex paused, mug mid-air.

“...it’s not a ‘sorry I cheated on you’, is it?”

The question came out maybe a little too harsh, Alex noticed only after the last word left his mouth, but he had that strange feeling that you were hiding something, for so long now.

You only snorted for the absurdity of the thought, shaking your head. “You wish! So you could dump my sorry ass and find yourself a rich cougar, uh?” you smiled, trying to ease his deep furrowed brow. “I’m not cheating, you should know-” “Then why have you dodged me for the last three weeks? I saw you talk to Mitch from K-9 a lot, last month” his husky voice came out with a tense curiosity in it.

“Eugh…!” you rolled your eyes. “Why do I stop talking to you about Christmas gifts two weeks before the twenty fifth? Because you spoil yourself with that smart brain of yours!” you grabbed a cookie from the platter and gently threw it at him, making him giggle just a smidge. Alex seemed appeased by your reply, taking another long sip of his coffee. “I would understand, if you cheated. I know I have a terrible personality, even if I try to-” his voice stopped all of a sudden, when his eyes focused on the bottom of the now nearly-empty mug.

His eyes shot back to you almost immediately, finally realizing what was written on your chest. “...that’s why!” he breathed. “That’s why you were all buddy-buddy with Mitch…! Oh no, Y/n, we already talked about it!” he almost whined, putting down the mug. “Don’t tell me you adopted one of the rejects from K-9...please tell me that’s not it…!” he added, a little desperate. “I love dogs, I do, but we’re rarely home one way or another and it would feel alone all day and it would destroy stuff and-” you stopped his rambling by handing him the thin box. “Open it,” you whispered, now nervous for his initial reaction.

If he seemed so negative about life with a dog, what would he say about a child…?

“Please don’t be a collar…” he muttered as his bony fingers removed the lid of the box.

His face became even more confused, as he saw a little square of fabric with some words written on them.

"What…" Slowly he brushed aside the crinkly paper and raised up what he thought was a shirt, but as the piece of clothing unraveled, his entire body froze, trying to compute what he was looking at.

A tiny, black onesie, soft as can be, with tiny little handcuffs on the front.

"Daddy's best backup" was impressed underneath the handcuffs, in bright pastel colors.

Alex didn't react for a good handful of seconds and now you knew how criminals felt while lining up for witness' identification. You never unglued your gaze from your lover, seeing him trying to understand, behind his clear, crystal eyes. You saw his hands tremble as he lowered the baby clothing, his attention passing from the fabric to yourself, then towards the box again.

A couple of fingers moved towards the ultrasound picture that you left on the bottom of the box, barely touching it before letting them sink again in the little onesie's softness. "Y/n…" he croaked your name and your chest went taut out of pure fear. "Is... you're telling me that...that you…" "y-yes" you immediately reply, as to cut short the torturous wait. "I -uhm… I took a couple of tests...and...a-all positive…" you managed to add, watching him sitting on the bed completely lost, as if the news didn't fully hit him.

He looked at the mug, then at the photo without stopping cuddling the tiny onesie with his fingers. "I... we're still in time if you...i-if you don't want–" "What?" He rounded his head towards you, as if snapping to reality.

You gulped, worried. "You...if you're not ready yet...we can wait...I could find a doctor, Sara will help me after the...t-the…" you stopped yourself from crying, the thought of losing the baby feeling like a wound opening in your very soul.

"What do you mean...not ready?" He then asked with a tender whisper. "I…" Alex gave out a shocked chuckle, but the corners of his mouth curled up in a smile. "I'm not the one pregnant with our baby, am I?" The word finally came out of his lips and the way he said it just melted your heart away, its panicked pounding now filling with warmth at every beat.

You watched Alex slowly fold the onesie again, this amazed and completely baffled expression on his face. "Because of Cameron…" you uttered, gripping at the hem of your t-shirt.

Every doubt you had, every fear, it poured out after that. Alex had always been your confident, your wise guide to ask for help and not being able to tell him your grudges for so long did a number on you, especially for something so important like a pregnancy. "I feared you would take this...as a replacement. Make you remember all over again…! I don't want you to….to fall back down in that dark place, Alex. I could never–" your voice gave out in a sob and immediately he seemed to turn back to his usual, protective self.

His hands grabbed the tray and moved it quickly on the other side of the bed, before taking both your hands and pulling you toward him. "Come here honey..." he called under his breath, enveloping you in his strong arms as you found place on his lap. One of his hands came up and started to gently stroke your nape, as the other wrapped around you.

For a moment, you didn't think of anything but his presence. His beating heart underneath his skin, finding your palm. His breath whispering in his lungs and falling onto the top of your head. "Listen... I'll never...never get over Cam. The death of a child is… devastating." He leaned slightly forward, completely hugging you with his frame. "And yes I was in a dark place… I got blinded by my pain and didn't see what I was causing you…and maybe I got addicted to my misery..." his hands shook against you, but he only pushed them a little harder to grip your clothes. "But don't you ever...ever think that I'll make you do something as horrible as abortion. I can't have you experience that kind of pain."

His lips came and kissed your hair, his whole body starting to tremble as well as his fingers. "And this...oh my God Y/n, I'm not accustomed to this kind of happiness anymore…!" Alex laughed now, his voice that stumbled for a moment in his throat. "And now I can't even... I can't find the words to describe how happy I am  right now..."

All of your anxiety melted away as he hugged you now even more. "So...we keep it?" "It's our baby! Of course we keep it!" He chortled at your question, now letting you go only to grab the onesie again, looking at it with tearful eyes, a bright smile on his face.

Alex brought the piece of clothing to his face and closed his eyes, to feel the softness of the fabric. "You always bring me the biggest joys in my life...even in my worst moments, you were there..." his glassy eyes opened again and found yours, the lights in them shining like a dawn after a long storm. "And now you gift me this miracle…our little miracle…"

Silence fell after his words, the speech hanging in the air like mistletoe at Christmas. Heartwarming, hopeful.

He always had his way with words, didn't he?

"This is way better than a dog..."

Sometimes his way with words was the dumbass way.

#Alexander Mahone #Prison Break #Alexander Mahone x Reader #post series #kinda fluff? #oneshot #fanfic

[unknown-cryptid666]

Michael Myers x Reader

May contain gore, sexual content, and kidnapping. Read at your own risk.

Chapter 17

"So, I need to find another job." I looked at Kate while I was eating. "Can I actually trust you guys to be alone?" "Yeah, I won't be home much soon anyways. I'll mainly be home during the night." "Why?" "I got promoted, so I have to work more." She said as she finished her breakfast. "I got the next few days off thanks to Michael. Maybe I can help you look for a job. I can see if my boss needs more workers." I smiled at her. "After you go back to work, I-" "Don't let what happened get to you. We'll be fine, besides it's best to look for a job now. You never know, by the time you go to look for one, there might not be any open." I looked at her. "Regardless, I don't trust you two alone." Kate sighed. "I know, but still." I shook my head. "Ok, fine. When I go back to work, I'll ask my boss if he needs more workers." She walked to the living room and I looked to my side to see Michael was gone. I went to join Kate and we watched some movies. "Oh yeah, my friend Taylor is throwing a Halloween party this weekend. I'm allowed to bring guests so would y-" "I'm sorry, but no." "Come on (y/n)! You can't let the past get to you." I side glanced her. "You plan to go knowing that Michael is going to be out killing?" "Yes, I'm not letting my friends get hurt if anything happens, plus I want to have a good night." I sighed.

"I'll come too. I have to make sure he doesn't kill you." Kate smiled at me and I felt Michael sit down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me onto his lap. "You two are disgusting." I laughed. "You love us...Well me." I looked at her and smiled. "Oh, what time do I have to be ready." "About 10 'o clock Saturday night." I nodded. "For?" I looked up at Michael. I'm going with her to her friends Halloween party." Michael grunted and rested his chin on my head. "So? No killing anyone at the party?" He grunted again. "Michael?" "Fine..." He sighed. "See, now you can have fun." Kate smiled and we went back to watching the movie. I heard a light snore. "Seems the movie bored Michael to sleep." "I like him better when he sleeps." We laughed. "Agreed, he's not so annoying." "Shut up." I looked up to see Michael awake and he kissed my forehead. "Disgusting." Kate said and made gagging sounds. We laughed and went back to watching the movie.

Lunch came and we decided to head out. "Are you going to be fine without me here?" I asked Michael jokingly. "Mhm." I flicked his forehead and he looked at me questioningly. I smiled like an idiot and left. "First things first. Lets go to the mall and shop!" Kate said with a smile. "We haven't gotten out of the house much due to work. "Yeah, then we can eat." We went to Spencer's, Hot Topic, and a few other stores. "You should get those heels!" Kate pointed out high heels that must have had a 10 inch heel. "Um, no. Last time I wore a heel that was almost that high off the ground, I twisted my ankle." "Oh, come on!" "No." "Fine! We need to go costume shopping though." I looked at her childish smile. Just like her, I loved Halloween. I loved the holiday all my life, but when that incident happened, I stopped celebrating it for a few years. Then I met Kate and started celebrating Halloween again, a little bit. "So, what do you plan to dress as?" She looked at me. "Hmmm, I don't know really." "Oh come on! You have to." I smiled at her. "I have you to help me." "True." After we ate, we went to a costume store.

Kate wandered off while I looked at the costumes. "Why don't you be something sexy!" I looked at her. "And risk Micha-" "Never mind!" I laughed and continued looking at the costumes. "Kate, I can go as Michael." "They made Mic- Oh my god they did." "I wonder what Michael would do." We laughed. "Yeah, I'm getting this." I looked at Kate. "Really?" "Mhm. What about you?" "Sexy cat." We paid for our costumes and went home. Michael was asleep and I smiled. Kate looked at me. "What's with the smile?" "I'm going to change." I walked to my room to change. "I can't believe you." Kate said looking at me. I smiled and put the mask on. "Michael!" I went down the stairs. "Hmm?" He looked up from laying down. "So?" He just looked at me. "Don't like?" I could tell the gears were turning in his head. I looked at Kate and she shrugged. I took the mask of and walked over to Michael. "Are you ok Michael?" He pulled me into his lap and didn't say anything. I looked up at him and saw his face was slightly red. I smiled and looked at Kate. "Should be about dinner time." "Yeah, I'll get started." She walked into the kitchen and I looked back at Michael. "You'd be a sexy killer...." He mumbled and I felt my face become red. "Funny."

He hugged me even tighter and kissed the back of my neck. "Mmm, I think I gave you unwanted fantasies." I tried to move away from him and couldn't. "Michael let go." "No." I sighed and laid back into him. He started to move his hands all over my body. "Stop getting horny, Kate's in the kitchen." He grunted. "The food is don't you nasty people." We got up and went to eat. "Blame him." Kate finished eating and went to her room. "Night guys." "Night." Michael and I said in unison. We finished eating and went to our room. Michael grabbed me and kissed me. "Mmm, you've got some wild fantasies going through your head right now, don't you?" He smirked and kissed me again. "We are n-" He kept kissing me and backed me up towards the bed. "Michael we are not fucking." He started sucking on my neck and found my sweet spot. "Ahh." He pushed me down onto the bed and kept sucking on my sweet spot. "Calm your horny asses down! Let me sleep!" I heard Kate yell and Michael got off of me, grunting. I laughed and got changed. I laid back down and Michael brought me towards him.

"Might have been a bad idea to get that costume." He smirked and looked at my neck. "Go to bed Michael." He kissed me. "I love you..." I love you too." I smiled at him and hid my face in his chest, falling asleep. I soon woke up to the sounds of birds and light snoring. I smiled and rested my head back on his chest. 'I could stay like this all day.' I thought and smiled to myself.

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Feel free to buy me an energy drink if you enjoy my content

#romance #horror #gore #x reader #michael myers

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 7

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: When you’re done with this chapter, here is information about Elijah McClain, whose murderers are back on the job. I hope you are all well, and that you’re not losing momentum. I know it’s exhausting learning about the endless violence, but imagine the exhaustion black people feel. Change is happening. Stay healthy, stay safe. Xx

Harry was snoring when Melody woke up. Not heavily, just a whisper in the back of his throat. His shoulder was beneath her cheek, his fingers resting atop her thigh, just above where her knee met his hip. And his face was turned toward her, his lips parted, his hair spilling across his forehead.

Melody felt like she was dreaming at first. It wouldn’t have been unusual. She had dreamed about waking up to Harry countless times since the last time she actually had, before he’d even been shot. But he never snored in her dreams.

She felt like everything after the bath with Harry the afternoon before was just a hazy blur, like she had stumbled drunkenly through the rest of the day. She’d washed Harry’s hair for him, scrubbing at his scalp with her fingertips until his head smelled the way she remembered his pillowcases. She’d avoided the round scars, one just above his temple, the other behind his ear. Then she’d rinsed and conditioned, and stole a kiss or two while she let his hair soak in the moisture it was probably craving.

They’d watched some films on the couch while sharing a sub and some fries. At least, they’d tried to watch the films. Melody had fallen asleep during the opening sequence of the second one. She wasn’t sure how long Harry had lasted, but he was asleep when she woke up and she’d had to stir him before she helped him to the bedroom, where neither of them had had the energy to strip out of their clothes.

Now, she pushed back the hair from his face and slipped her hand down to the side of his neck, where she could feel his slow, strong pulse. Her lips found his collar bone, and then she lifted herself forward and they found his chin, his cheekbone, the tip of his nose, his eyelid.

Harry grumbled beneath her as he woke. His eyes split open just enough to see her lower her cheek back onto his shoulder.

“What’re yeh doin’?” he murmured.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He took a deep breath as he turned toward the ceiling. Sunlight fell across his face, into his eyes, bright even when he closed them. He really hated that.

“What time is it?”

Melody rolled away from him to check the clock by her bedside. “Almost ten.”

Harry grunted. “Feel like I’ve been hit by a movin’ vehicle,” he muttered.

“Really?”

The bed creaked beneath him, jostling his sore limbs and pulsing through his aching head. He groaned.

“What hurts?” Melody asked. He felt her hands on his shoulders, running down the length of his torso, sliding back up to cup his chin. “Harry?”

“I dunno. All of it. ‘M just sore, Mel. ’S not a big deal. Did a lot of movin’ yesterday.”

“Okay,” she conceded, but her voice didn’t sound nearly as calm as the word. “Do you want some meds?”

“What? No, my head is fine.”

“I was just making sure.” She laid back down beside him and pulled the sheets up to her chin. Her nose was pressed up against the edge of Harry’s pillow, and it smelled like the bedding at his apartment. She let her eyes drift back shut.

Harry didn’t feel nearly as comfortable as she did. Not just because her bed was a bit smaller than his was—though that was part of it—but because he’d only slept here a handful of times, and this was usually about the time that he would be leaving, when Melody would be off to her classes.

He frowned. “Yeh have classes today?”

Melody shifted closer to him and hummed. “No, I’m not taking any this semester.”

“Why?”

“I needed some time off.”

Harry shook his head almost imperceptibly and then pushed himself up.

“Why are you sitting up?” Melody grumbled into his empty pillow. “Lay down.”

“’S morning,” he told her. “Tha’s typically when people get out of bed, yeah? Unless I missed somethin’.”

“You don’t have to get out of bed unless you have something to do,” she countered.

“Great. I wanna go through my stuff.”

Melody groaned. They never did start opening up the boxes of his things that she’d stacked up in the corner of her room, right next to her sunlit shelf of succulents. A few of the boxes she’d sifted through occasionally over the past few months, but some she hadn’t opened since she’d moved them out of Harry’s apartment.

“Right now?” she asked.

“Well, not at this exact second. We could eat first, yeh know. And maybe I could brush my teeth.”

“Maybe?”

“Unless yeh wanna kiss me right now.”

“No, thank you.” Melody grinned against Harry’s still-warm pillow and then finally sat up, combing her fingers through the knots in her hair.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry shouted as something white skittered into the room and across the floor before disappearing beneath the bed.

Melody laughed. “That’s Bea’s cat, Queenie.”

“Cat?”

“Yes. Four legs, whiskers, meows.”

“I know what a fuckin’ cat is.” He tilted forward to peek over the edge of the bed, but there was no sign of the kitten.

“What do you want to eat?” Melody asked.

Harry sighed, still staring down at the floor. “Fruit, a bagel, cereal. ‘M not picky.”

“I need to go grocery shopping.”

Harry heard footsteps out in the living room before he could respond. The door to Melody’s room wasn’t closed. Bea appeared there moments later, snuggled into a robe and her hair wrapped meticulously. Her eyes were squinted when she first peeked around the corner, as if she was preparing to clamp them shut, and she seemed relieved that both Melody and Harry were fully-clothed.

“Mel, your smoothie’s all ready,” she said.

“Thank you.” Melody grinned at Bea and then slid her feet down to meet the rug beneath her bed.

“I have a screening in an hour but then I thought maybe I could cut your hair?”

It took Harry a few moments to realize that Bea was speaking to him. He blinked, dazed, and then frowned. “What?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” Melody interjected. She reached up pointedly to run her fingers over the shorter side of Harry’s hair. “You know, even it out.”

“Yeh won’ mess it up?” he asked, and he was more than apprehensive. Harry didn’t like his hair cut. Hated getting trims, even when it was at its longest, and now there was so much room for error.

Bea grinned, and for a moment he thought her teeth looked sharper than the average person’s, like she could tear into skin with very little pressure. “We’ll see,” she said as she turned and left the doorway.

Harry pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. He looked at Melody out of the corner of his eye. “Screening?”

“She’s a film major,” she answered. “Also women and gender studies, but mainly film. They watch one as a class every Friday.”

He added this to his very short list of facts about Bea. Really, he had no interest in growing that list, but it was inevitable when he would be living with the girl. At least Melody would be there to watch when she came at him with a pair of scissors.

“So, breakfast.”

Melody helped Harry to the bathroom, which he found uncomfortable, although it wasn’t the first time she helped him and it wouldn’t be the last. Then she led him to the dining table, where he ate toast and bananas and she drank a large green smoothie that she blended up. And he hated it. He felt like an ornament while she toasted bread for him and poured him coffee and talked to him about a paper Bea had written that analyzed Blue Velvet. He couldn’t have been more relieved when they finished eating and Bea left. They moved back into Melody’s bedroom to open up his things.

“This top one is just clothes,” she said, laying her hand atop the ripped tape. There were a few nights over the past few months when she’d slipped a t-shirt out to curl up in. All of his clothes still smelled like him, though he hadn’t touched any of the fabric in nearly half a year. But she’d left most of the clothes in their boxes in case he woke up and still wanted nothing to do with her. She was incredibly thankful that he hadn’t said anything of the sort. “Do you want me to put them away while you open the next box?”

“Sure.” Harry watched her from where he sat on the floor as she slid the cardboard onto the ground by the closet doors. He peeled back the tape from the box that had been beneath it. This was a collection of random items—coffee mugs and bottles of pills and the painting Melody had gifted him. And a hand-carved rectangular box, rich chestnut, with a large A etched into the lid. Harry knew what it contained, and he hated the thought of Melody touching it when he wasn’t around, let alone looking inside. He wanted to ask her if she’d opened it, but it wasn’t fair for him to be angry.

Actually, he was relieved that it wasn’t still hiding in his flat, where he’d tucked it away beneath his bed. So, he thanked her instead.

“For what?”

“For findin’ this.” He held the box up, smoothing dust from the lid with his thumbs. And, God, he really wanted to know if she looked inside, but he didn’t want to ask.

“Oh.” She seemed surprised. “You’re welcome.” She was distracted, her hands busy folding up jeans and tucking them into a drawer.

“Did yeh open it?” It slipped out. He blinked in surprise at himself.

Melody glanced at him again, and when she saw how intensely he was watching her, she pressed the pair of jeans she was holding to her chest. When she’d found the box tucked far into the recesses of his closet, her first thought was that it would be another gun—there had been many guns in his apartment. But it wasn’t. There were bracelets and rings, a pair of cross earrings that looked to match the necklace that he always wore—the one that hung at his chest even now—and underneath them she’d glimpsed a battered greeting card. The box was deep and there were surely more things packed inside, but it had all felt too personal for her to pick through without his permission.

“I mean, I took the lid off,” she said, “but I didn’t go through it. What’s the 'A' for?”

Harry set the box aside and pulled at his lower lip with his fingers. He didn’t know where he would keep something so precious in this apartment, in a place that he shared, that wasn’t his. Here, nothing was private.

“My mum, Anne.”

“Oh.” She left it at that. If he wanted to add anything else, he would, and she wouldn’t press him, not when he already seemed on edge. But he didn’t say anything more, only stared at the closed box for another few moments and then continued pulling out more of his things.

“Sean told me Goodman’s been payin’ her bills. That true?”

Melody’s lips twitched. “Yes, actually.”

Harry didn’t like this. He didn’t like to owe anyone, and if he made a list of people he could tolerate being indebted to, Goodman would be very, very close to the bottom. But there wasn’t much he could do about it, now.

“Yeh have room for these?” Harry asked as he unpacked the last of the mugs.

“Yeah,” Melody assured him, “we have an entire empty cupboard.”

He nodded. Melody closed her drawer and began hanging up some of his sweatshirts. She watched him from her periphery as he opened up the next box and pulled out the photograph that he’d received on his birthday earlier that year—the one of him and Melody, where she had her hand clamped around his chin and was pressing a hard kiss to his cheek, when he’d been trying desperately to claw his way out of her hold but still he’d been grinning between her fingers. But the glass pane that protected the photo was shattered. Cracks spidered out from a large fissure right down the middle, and shards of glass were missing.

“I didn’ do this, did I?” He still couldn’t remember anything that had occurred between the Tuesday when Melody had come to talk to him at training and the day that Colton had found him home alone. He would probably believe anything, if someone were to tell him what he’d done during that missing week. The anger and—admittedly—sharp pain that he’d felt when he broke up with Melody was still poignant in his memory, although somehow distant. A bandaged wound that still smarted. It was strange, the way that they’d ended up.

“No,” Melody answered finally, shaking her head. She hung up the last of Harry’s sweatshirts and then folded her arms across her chest, lounging up against the corner of her dresser. “I think it broke when you and Colton were…”

“Oh.” He pressed his thumb to the corner of the photo, where the glass was still intact. “It needs a new frame.”

Melody hadn’t known it before, but she was waiting to see how Harry would react to that object in particular. Perhaps he’d been planning to tear the picture into shreds the day that Colton had shown up and spoiled all of his plans. Now, she’d never know, and he might never know, but this was better. Her chest constricted painfully in relief.

“I can look for one when I go to get groceries.” She smiled at the way his fingers gripped the edges so gently. And then she pressed her lips together, nervous. “Also, when I’m done,” she began, “I have a match tonight, so I have to meet Sean. Will you come?”

Harry lifted his head to stare at her, at the defensive cage that she’d made of her arms, at the way she held his eye contact, but twitched as if she’d like to break it. She knew that he wouldn’t say yes, and still she’d asked. And he felt himself coil up.

“No, Melody,” he said firmly. “‘M not goin’ to your match.”

“I wish you would just—“

“I am not going.”

Bea chose that moment to burst into the apartment, rambling about how much she’d hated the film they’d been forced to watch today. She reached the edge of the couch, where she could see into Melody’s room, and then stopped abruptly. Harry and Melody were staring daggers at each other, stock-still, their bodies tense.

“Everything okay?”

Melody broke that uncomfortable eye contact, finally, and looked up at Bea.

“Yeah, I was just about to go grab some groceries. Do you want anything?” She was already slipping her head into a hoodie, stepping around Harry, pointedly not asking him for any food requests.

“Uh, I need flour and raspberries for this muffin recipe I wanted to try.”

“Great, see you in a bit,” Melody said. "Oh, why don’t you cut his hair while I’m gone? In fact, shave his whole head while you’re at it.” She shot Bea a sarcastic grin as she pulled open the apartment door, and then she slammed it shut behind her, leaving Harry and Bea alone again.

Chapter 8

#harry styles #harry styles ferocity #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #boxer!harry #boxer!au

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 001

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together. 

A/N: Hey!!! I'm definitely not giving up on LFTM, I've had this story whirling around my brain and it's been pulling at me for a while. Hoping I can slow down, care for myself, and juggle both fics at my own pace. Thank you guys for reading and for being so supportive. I hope everyone who enjoyed WTL also enjoys this fic, it's a totally different direction. I'm excited to share it! I'll tag warning in each chp like I always too. TW: Light bullying, hints at an inappropriate relationship between a teacher/student, and teenage jerks.

Chapter 1: Fast Times

   A blaring bell trilled. Lunch time. So close and yet so far. Scrambling high schoolers like zoo animals clamored into the cafeteria. Knocking shoulders and bouncing around. No one really cared about knowledge today, the last day of school before winter break began. 

   1984. Coming to a close.

   “Evie!” A hand rose to wave. One pink scrunchie around the elegant wrist. Heather Holloway. Cute as a button smiling there. Hands pulled headphones down to acknowledge her. Evangeline Fenny. Best friends since the sandbox and now seniors. “This stupid day is dragging.”

   “It’s killing me.” Evie whined to herself, settling her beat up lunchbox on the table. Red and blue pattern, scribbled all over with song lyrics in black marker. “Mrs. Stockard fell asleep at her desk, I wanted to die.”

   “She snores so loudly.” Heather sparkled when she laughed, sweeping her hair back into a high ponytail with her scrunchie. Evie held a mirror up for her to see out of habit. “Thanks.” It was particularly louder than usual. Teens pregaming the parties to come over the two week vacation.

   “Going skiing with the folks this year?”

   “No, they’re going up to the cabin and I’m staying home after Christmas.” Heather unpacked her lunch, carefully organizing it. Evie pulled a regular PB and J out, amused.

   “Sushi?”

   “My mom’s going through a phase.” Heather poured herself a bit of soy sauce and plucked up chopsticks.

   “Your rich is showing, Heath.” Evie giggled when a foot kicked at her under the table.

   “Trade you a piece for half the pear.”

   “Deal.” They switched. Evie tucked some unruly dark curls aside, sitting back.

   “So...there is a party tonight. Loch Nora. Bunch of schools.”

   “Which ones?” Evie’s brow rose.

   “Ridgemont will probably crash, but who cares. It’s winter break, we’ll go and have some fun then crash at my place. Eat chips, make fun of them, and pass out like we always do.” Heather bounced a little. “C’mon, Evie. I’ll pick you up and we can walk from my house.”

   “I’ll think about it.” That meant yes to Heather. She grinned, reaching across to pat her friend’s arm playfully.

   “It’ll be fun.”

   Evie just whined and crunched on her pear, brows scrunching. Parties weren’t the same since the incident. But, she picked the popular, social butterfly for her closest friend. 

   The two couldn’t have been any more different.

   Heather Holloway. Rich girl from Loch Nora befriending Evangeline Fenny, a Cherry Lane girl, in preschool. They switched beaded hair ties and the rest was history. Bonded over music and fashion. Heather was classically stunning as if she jumped off a magazine. 

   Students used to make snide comments. That Heather kept Evie around because she made her look prettier. Sweet Heather shut that down. Loudly. Whenever the subject came up. Evie Fenny was a bigger girl. Plush. Fat. It wasn’t a dirty word. She was a strange and pretty teen who carried herself too high to be bothered with comments.

   Water off a duck’s back was the saying.

   Used to be she hid herself under big sweaters, tunics, and flared jeans. But, that was before the incident. Afterward, she came to school with a new haircut. Louder makeup. Even louder, fitted clothing. Flaunted the hourglass and caught eyes on her hips swaying. Sat next to Heather at lunch as if nothing had changed. Red glossed lips only smiled and the student body took to her. Those who stayed angry burned alone.

   Thick skin, no pun intended.

   ��If that asshole Tannen shows up, I’m dipping.” Evie decided with one breath. 

   “I’d say that I’ll protect you, but you made your point last year.” 

   Ah, the incident.

   “I’m never going to live that down.”

   “It was legendary.” Heather beamed, crushing her fist into her opposite palm. “Bam. Prick went down. My friend is Wonder Woman. Super Bitch.”

   Evie broke to laugh, eyes rolling.

   “Truthfully, I don’t recall it all.”

   That was a lie, she remembered every second of it. Sometimes her knuckles warmed at the thought.

   “I just...didn’t think you had moves like that. Your mom is basically Dolly Parton. You don’t even like violence. You squirm during horror flicks. You love your cat, your guitar, and all plant life...and you beat the hell out of Ridgemont’s golden boy asshole quarterback.”

   It did earn Evie some Hawkins’ fame. Ridgemont was their main rival. The Bulldogs. Football players found a soft spot for the teen.

   “Don’t tell my mom she’s Dolly Parton, that’ll go straight to her head.” Evie joked, popping her water bottle open to drink. Heather’s big eyes lifted behind her.

   A flood of cologne wafted before two fingers tugged a curl. Little harder than they should have. Water choked to spill onto Evie’s chest.

   “Whoops, you got all wet, Fenny.” A tongue clicked. Billy Hargrove slid around the table. All his glory. Heather plucked up a napkin to offer it.

   “Watch it, Hargrove.” She huffed down at herself. The yellow tee tucked into her jeans was soaked through.

   “Girls can’t help it around me, I guess.” He had one hand in his pockets and another cradling his silver lighter. Flicking it open and closed. Eyes narrowed. “Polka dots, huh. I had you figured for florals.”

   “You’re an asshole.” She covered her damp shirt and bra with her striped cardigan. Thick fall colors warmed her skin. Noted the fact that he'd thought about it.

   “Whatever you say, Ivy.” 

   Billy knew her name. They were neighbors. Unfortunately. Right down to sharing the same space between their bedroom windows. She’d had dinner at their house. Susan Hargrove was new and eager to make some friends and Ms. Fenny was eager to be friends with everyone. Perfect match.

   Evie glared up at him. Fucking Adonis.

   “Heather, you going tonight?” He ignored his neighbor and leaned over with one palm on the table, back to Evie as he sat down to flash that darling smile.

   “Maybe.” Heather gestured with her chopsticks.

   “I can work with maybe.” He acted like the girl behind him wasn’t there. Frankly, Evie was used to being invisible. It was better than being bullied. Most days. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

   “Maybe you apologize to my friend and say her name right.” Heather winked at him.

   “Who?” Billy stood and turned, mocked some surprise. “Oh. Evangeline. So quiet, I forgot you, chica.”

   She wasn’t sure if that was a jab at her mixed heritage or him just being a smartass. Billy rolled her name off his tongue like it was a joke. Like it wasn’t a real word. Blue eyes alight at her stony expression. Sly and alert. 

   The California transfer vibrated after leaving the basketball team before the season ended. Word was that he was persuaded to leave after some fight with Steve Harrington. Billy was a strange one too.

   Often, he seemed lax when he was alone like the world didn’t matter. Other days, he was rocking and quick on his feet. Hungry and itching for something. Anything. It was a scary look on such a pretty boy. You could never gauge where his mind was. Where it would go next.

   “Evangeline.” He sounded out again even slower. “Your mom lose a bet?”

   “It’s a poem.” She replied flatly, sitting back to cock her head at him. Billy snapped his fingers to point.

   “Sounds like the name of some chick whose man died in her arms.”

   She huffed at him, leaning in.

   “...That would be what the poem is about.”

   “Fucking depressing.” Billy tapped his chin. “I got it. I’m going to call you, Angel. I won’t forget that.”

   “You are not calling me-”

   “Trying to compromise with you, Fenny. You cast the first stone.” Billy flicked his eyes to Heather. “Bring your friend with you to the party, Heather. Some guys like angel cake.” He winked and slunk off to his band of merry assholes. This school worshiped him. Kissed the ground he walked on since he started in fall.

   “What a fucking slimeball.” Evie grumbled to herself, stuffing trash aside to ball it up. Thought about tossing it at Billy's big head. Heather gave this conflicted look as if to say, but he’s cute, right?

   “Ignore him.”

   “Bad enough his family moved in next to me.” They packed up their lunches. “God, I want a smoke so bad.”

   She didn’t keep the habit up just to save her singing voice. Her mom picked up cigarettes only after the divorce last year. Smoked out her window and hid it, but Evie knew. No judgment there. Better than other habits moms pick up after divorces.

   “I’ll pick you up at seven tonight?” Heather walked out with her after the bell rang.

   “Yeah, I’ll see you in fifth.” Evie turned to go to her locker and stuffed the lunchbox away. Grabbed a book to hurry to class. History. Three more periods left. Students fidgeted around her.

   “Hey, Evie.” Steve Harrington batted his eyes at her. Friendly enough these days after he left the popular cliche and broke up with Nancy Wheeler. Sometimes having your heart stopped on made you nicer. Not always. “You, ah, do the paper?”

   “All six pages.” Evie set it on her desk. “You?”

   “I made an attempt.” It was strange because Steve never gave her the time of day before this year. Maybe the guy was lonely. He tapped his pencil and the chatter quieted when their teacher walked in. Late as always.

   “Class, pass your papers to the front.”

   “Hopefully they don’t come back with red wine stains.” Robin mumbled behind her, one leg crossed up so she could draw on the rubber side of her sneakers. Evie caught a snort, taking the papers to pass them along. “I like the jacket.”

   “Thanks. New haircut?”

   “My own dad didn’t notice.” Robin beamed.

   “Psst, Evie.” A note flicked on her desk. Tammy Thompson. Pretty girl, kind of shy. “To Steve.”

   Evie considered herself a professional middle man for lovesick note passing. Discreetly, she gave it to Steve, head cocking. He furrowed his brow upon seeing it, but wrote back.

   Whatever the reply, it made Tammy’s shoulders fall.

   AP Biology was next. Teacher treated it like his kingdom and didn’t pose much of a challenge because he was disorganized as hell. Evie was relieved to share the class with Heather. 

   Billy, Tommy, and Carol also had it too. Hargrove bitched for a week about how the other science classes had no openings. Strange because he wasn’t an idiot. Still got his work in and maintained a B average. Probably due to his dad. Neil Hargrove seemed like a real hardass. And all of Cherry Lane had heard him and Billy arguing at some point.

   Evie might have also witnessed some more physical spats through the windows.

   She figured it was why Billy hated her. She knew something about him. Something he hid because it made him feel smaller. He caught her eyes once and barked nastily before taking off in his Camaro. A gust of smoke.

   She never brought it up. 

   Dads could be real assholes.

   “Watch the movie. Fill out the worksheet.” Their teacher was as ready for this day to be over as the students were. Lights went down. Yawns followed. Evie propped her elbow up on the high lab table she shared with Heather, doodling new lyrics between answering questions.

   A crumpled paper hit her hair. Stuck into brown curls. Heather turned back to glare at Tommy shrugging with a sleazy grin.

   He was no artist. Evie smoothed it for a wide, big lipped and breasted caricature of herself. She drew on it and scribbled a note back. Smiling sweeter when she flicked it at his chest. Carol and Billy leaned in on either side to see Tommy’s expression sour because Evie gave him nothing.

   “You got my hair all wrong.” She’d written. Fixing it for him.

   Billy snorted and turned back to defacing his textbook.

   “Bitch.” Tommy muttered to himself, tossing it away. Evie finished her sheet, dug for her compact to reapply a lip color. Caught Billy behind her. Intent on whatever vulgar drawing his mind was concocting. Blue eyes flicked like he’d been aware of her this entire time.

   The mirror snapped shut.

** ** **

   Study hall. Last period of the day. Most kids who had it were skipping out early during the hour. Slipping away one by one through the library. Evie was one of those kids. 

   “Leaving so soon, Miss Fenny?” The smooth as silk voice lowered, startled her enough to drop her notebooks and folders. 

   “Fr...Mr. Bowers.” Evie dropped before her English teacher standing so close to her. Second period. Been in Hawkins three years teaching the junior and senior classes. Fredrick Bowers. Dream of a man to all the teen girls. “Sorry.” She bit her bottom lip, eyes lifting to see him and his shadow blocking the light from touching her. 

   “No, I’m sorry, Evie. I figured you’d heard me coming.” Sky blue eyes centered on Evie there before he came to one knee. Helped her gather lose papers strewn about.    

   Mr. Bowers had a name and face all the teen girls drew little hearts around in pink gel pen.

   Evie thought she saw those same cartoon hearts bubbling up behind his back. Popping like gum. Styled toffee blond locks, trimmed mustache, and groomed side burns. A simple patterned shirt tucked into fitted slacks with the sleeves rolled up. Never a tie. Something groovy about him that stuck from the seventies. Mid thirties and hell of a smile.

   Evie tucked hair aside, displayed her blush in full view obscenely when he flashed those sparkly whites at her. Eyes crinkling.

   “I’ll warn you next time.” 

   Her heart plucked like a song when their fingers brushed. Dashing and broad. A Jane Austen character come to life. Enough to make any young girl melt. And how quickly she did.

   “Next time.” Evie gave this scoff. Pulling her notes close as they both came to their feet with hard intent eyes.

   "I wanted to give you something. A book to read over the break." He pulled it from his leather messenger bag and peered around.

   "An assignment?" Evie sparkled at him so he was lighter.

   "No, it's just because I believe you're so clever and mature. I think you'll read it with an open mind and we can talk about it like we talked about all the others. It's complicated material. I, ah, really shouldn't be giving you this book." He offered it. "But, there were quite a few I wasn't allowed to give you. After that chat we had over The Crucible. I'm just so fascinated by what you think."

   "Lolita. I know what happens in this one." Evie peered at the battered title. Rough paper between her fingers, it was clearly an old copy. She peered at his chest instead of his eyes. "We-"

   "Don't you miss talking? You know. Last year. Someone who knows what you're going through. I want all my students to be comfortable around me."

   "I am comfortable, we..." Evie glanced as someone passed far down the hallway.

   Bowers helped her after her dad left. A shoulder. A confidant. A crush that... She felt her heart close in on itself.

   "I thought you said we couldn't anymore."

   "I miss you." He whispered that. Lush and blunt. She barely heard it. Eyes snapped up.

   Someone missed her. Someone wanted to listen. Someone who saw her depth.

   His wife left him before he came to Hawkins. Evie learned a great deal about her too.

   "I won't tell, I never do." She hid it away into her bag, matched his tone. "We can...talk. Not here."

   "Good." He swallowed. "I just think you blossom under guidance and support. I always knew you were one of those girls."

   Evie blushed again. Eyes on her shoes. 

   “I wanted to say I was impressed with your paper as well. As always.” Fredrick gave her arm a pat and left his hand there. Fingers pressed into the knit fabric of her cardigan. His lip twitched. 

   “Good. That’s…I’m glad.” Evie’s eyes flickered over stormy blue ones, swaying. Lashes gave a dreamy bat. “I was thinking, ah, about you when I wrote it.”

   “Really, you should speak up in class more.” Fredrick gave her one subtle squeeze and dropped his hand. “All those funny poems you shared last year.”

   “My songs.” Evie corrected softer and he only smiled to nod.

   “Right.” An idle step backwards before he leaned over her. A great deal taller. The shadow crept over her eyes this time. “You have a Merry Christmas, dear. And speak up again in class, Evie. You know I love to hear from you.”

   A sensation like a fizzling sparkler glowed in her belly. Out her spine. Spread over skin.

   “I know.” She giggled at him, peering around. “Merry Christmas, Mr. B. We'll talk.”

   “Small town, I’m sure I’ll see you out and about.” A wink and he was gliding off. Shoulders back and chest perched high.

   “You might.” Evie swooned against her locker. Watched him go. Gasped a breath into her lungs. Swept all the clouds aside to fill her backpack with work. He made her feel so special, like no one ever could. 

   “Anyone...” She sang to herself, “who knows what love is...” Fingers plucked up a final book. Evie hummed and thought of small cartoon blue birds spinning around her head as she went into the restroom. Washed her hands and lingered to see her reflection.

   Evie was in a strange place. In and out of her skin. Torn between love and hate for her body.

   Usually, it just took a brave face. Her dad always used to tilt her chin and tell her to put on her bravest face before leaving home.

   She hoped the one she chose was convincing. 

   Her mom would always spin her favorite Bible or Dolly Parton quotes. Which helped on occasion even if she wasn’t sure which source the words came from half the time.

   A sigh. This was her flesh. She’d live in it as best she could. Dreamed herself into something better.

   Footsteps hurried down the hallway until the door shoved open. Humming cut.

   “Hargrove!” She gasped, dropping her messenger bag. “Billy, you can’t be in here!”

   “God damn it, Fenny. You again?” Billy skidded to hush her. Pressed them back into the wall. The heat of his body engulfed her frame, standing a good few inches taller. “Do me a fucking solid. Hide this for me.”

   Billy had no sense of boundaries because he was stuffing a baggie into her front jean pocket. 

   “What are you doing?” She seethed at him, smacking his arms off her to put some distance. “Get off me!”

   “Don’t say a word. Got it?” Billy lifted a finger with an intent look. Smelled of leather and his heavy cologne. Hairspray too. It all overshadowed the cigarette scent. He smoothed his tee out and turned to see the door. Scrambling like a spider, Billy jumped up on the toilet, threw his messenger bag outside, and pulled himself up. Wiggled his way out.

   Evie heard a thud and groan.

   “What the fuck?” She whispered, more so to herself as he disappeared. Hands pulled what was clearly concealed weed bundled up several times and bagged from her pocket. “Shit.” More footsteps before the door burst as she shoved it away.

   “You see that Hard-grove kid?” A thick accent asked. Security guy. Useless.

   “Uh!” Evie pulled her bag up. “Who?...This is the ladies room! Can’t a girl have a moment here?” 

   “Sorry!” He cringed away before she jumped into mushy period talk. It always worked. 

   Evie rolled her eyes and marched out to find Billy. Casual as can be, he tossed his bag into the trunk of his car and stilled to light a cigarette. Grumbling, steps hurried up the hill.

   “Asshole!” She tossed the weed at his chest, made him catch it awkwardly and stuff it into the trunk with a hiss.

   “Keep a lid on it, will you?” He slammed it shut. No one was around to see them.

   “Don’t do that shit again.” She pushed into him to go, Billy’s big hand wrapped around her wrist. Tugged her square into his chest. An unkind grin swept.

   “I had you figured, didn’t I? You didn’t say anything.” Billy blew smoke into the air, plucked the cigarette out to flick it with his free hand.

   “Let go.” Evie huffed. “I would have been in deep shit too for that.” She wiggled and pushed at his chest. 

   Billy flicked his bright eyes over hers. So brown they looked black in winter. He never noticed that she had a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks like he did. Pale for a girl with darker features. Indiana falls and winters must have taken the color right out of her. Looked like a lot of the mixed gals he knew back home. 

   Big curls. Soft and curvy. 

   Angry at him over something he did.

   There's no place like home, he figured.

   “You’re so weak.” Billy laughed at her. Took another drag. “They told me you freaked out on a guy last year.”

   “You want to be next?” She twisted away from him and turned. It wasn’t a real threat. He’s seen her tend to plants like they were humans. Feed neighborhood cats and nurse her own. Old black cat with not long left. Little fucker was always creeping him out from her bedroom window. Constantly staring with huge green eyes like it knew something Billy didn’t.

   “Babysit your own weed.”

   “You walking home?” Billy was relentless, voice lifting.

   Evie huffed and turned.

   “What, are you going to say I probably need the exercise? My bike chain broke.”

   “Christ, I was gonna offer a ride. Figured I owed you for saving my damn weed and my break. Not like it's out of the way.” Billy turned to open the passenger door. “Quit being a drag and get in. I don’t bite hard...unless asked.”

   “You’re such a creep.” She eyed him there. Wondered how he stayed warm in a tee, jeans, and leather jacket. “Not waiting for Max?” He gave this annoyed look.

   “She’s going out with her stupid friends, not my problem today.” Billy got in, gesturing. “At least close the door if you’re not coming. I went through the effort to open it for you.”

   “What a gentleman.” Sarcasm.

   Evie came back toward his car and debated it. Smelled like it might rain with the sky turning grey. And she really didn’t want to walk in these shoes. Rationalizing it, she slipped inside and shut the door. Settled her bag in her lap. Even buckled up. Billy revved the engine and skidded to speed out without a second glance.

   “You going to the party with Heather?”

   Evie peered at him watching the road with this hard look on his face. Ghosted a smile. Bingo.

   “You’re being nice to me to get to Heather, huh. You know you’re not the first guy to pull this. Could have just asked me about her.”

   Crystalline eyes flared up at her face.

   “What? Dorky chicks like you turn me on, too.” He replied rougher, not bothering to watch the road.

   “Wow. Spread it on thick, Hargrove.” She turned from him.

   “I always do.” He hit a hard corner. Christ, he drives fast. “I got a shot?”

   “She thinks you’re cute.” Evie shrugged. Far too used to this. Eyes slid to his profile. Wild curls still golden on grey days. The boy glowed. It was absolutely insufferable. Leaves whirled by, brown and dead. A smile crossed her face. “Listen. Since you’re saving me a walk. I’ll help you.”

   “Help me? I don’t need your help, I just wondered if she was gonna show.” He scoffed, turning on Cherry Lane.

   “You want to know what Heather likes. It’ll help you.” She crossed her arms, nearly flying forward when he screeched to a stop in front of his house. Billy shot her a look, filled with pride. “You got a pen and paper, bud?”

   He snatched her bag, tore a page from her notebook and dug into his glove box for a pen.

   Ass. She hugged it back to her chest.

   "Talk."

   “Okay.” A breath. “The thing about Heather is she’s a romantic. Jane Austin girl. Pride and Prejudice. If you can quote that just once like Mr. Darcy, she’s yours... Well? Are you writing?”

   Billy did a double take and huffed, grumbling. He actually marked it down.

   “Mr. Who?”

   “Your life amazes me.” She chuckled. “Darcy.”

   “Got it. Darcy. I’ll ask Susan about that shit, she’s a reader.” He muttered, tongue sweeping out before he scribbled. 

   “And she loves museums. First date ideas. Milkshakes. Cheese fries with jalapenos. Cheeseburger gal. Chinese from that corner joint. Always spicy. Easy picks.”

   “A girl after my own burning heart.” Billy felt her peer at him again. Lips lifting with this expression he couldn’t read. Blinked her big eyes and went on.

   “Definitely loves to snuggle in with something scary even though they freak her out. Must be a curiosity thing.”

   “Any excuse to get close to someone, I like it. This is gold, Angel, go on.”

   “You know, I think that’s all I got for you.” Evie turned to get out, sighing. That was just a little evil. “Billy.”

   “What?” He shut his door and turned from her.

   “Thanks for the ride.” She moved to go toward her house. “Knock ‘em dead.”

   Billy didn’t reply. Just watched her go into her house before he dug for another smoke.

   “Mom?” Evie called. “I’m home.”

   “I’m in my room, sweetheart!”

   Ramona Fenny was a spirited woman, went by Mona to the neighborhood. A girl of the 60s. Built like Dolly Parton with a pumped hairstyle to match in sleek dark brown, almost black. She worshiped the woman. Looked like she could have modeled atop a cake. 

   A church going girl who used prayer to get her through the divorce. Never pushed it on others, not even Evie. Too busy pushing other things. Like the free days she lost having her daughter young. She liked what worked in life and this worked for her. Liked the pretty side to things. 

   Mona was a sunny side up sort of mother.

   Best friends with Claudia Henderson as they both went through divorces which was not in God’s plan. Evie liked Dustin, she babysat him on occasion and he was a good kid. Bullied like her. 

   Mona owned the favored hair salon in town. Worked long hours with a team of women and ran a tight ship. Did hair for all the social elites so she knew everyone and all the hot gossip. And did she love that detail the most. Evie helped out with reception during vacation time. Liked the extra cash.

   “I was going to go to Heather’s later, there’s a party.”

   “Oh, have fun, baby.” She pushed her kid to go out. To live. To be smart. Never asked her to call. Not out of trust for Evie, she couldn’t be bothered. Never imagined her daughter would be up to mischief.

   If only she knew.

   Sometimes, Mona keyed in when it suited her. Understood when Evie’s likes and dislikes changed. When she asked to not go to church anymore because it didn’t help her after her dad walked out. Ramona was understanding as long as you didn’t bring up things like depression and anger. There always had to be a way out. Turn the other cheek.

   Evie knew her mother always thought the best.

   “Great.” Evie crossed to steal the hair brush, helped her mother out with the teasing. Dyed rich and dark locks that used to be a mousy brown. Dark eyes like her daughter. Evie didn’t look like her father with his brighter features. Her lush hair and russet eyes. Thick brows. “You going out? All dressed up...”

   “Just into town, couple of errands.”

   That was something that changed a week after her dad moved out. Mona’s style revamp. She was a woman of the sixties and seventies and that came back full force. Styled and pumped up like she was walking out of a Nancy Sinatra music video. Men around town noticed it and the woman certainly speculated. 

   But, her daughter had a style change too after the incident so it must have run in the family.

   “Better?” Evie eyed the glittery rings sitting in a ceramic dish. They looked like gumballs there.

   “Touch of hairspray and I’ll be right as rain.” Pink manicured nails came up with the can. “Take cover, baby.”

   “Got it.” Evie disappeared in a waft of spray. Stole an ice cube from the freezer to crunch it out of this habit she picked up when dad was gone. Cool and melty between her fingers before she swallowed it down. Felt the bulge tense all down her throat. Another followed. Teeth straining to crack it like glass. The chunks went down a little less smooth as she looked for real food and shut the fridge instead.

   Evie went into the bedroom to see her old cat on the pillow. His head lifted. Skinny and balding. Blind in one eye.

   “How’re we doing, my handsome boy?” Evie dropped her bag and crossed to pet him. Purrs erupted, whiskers twitching. “Bourbon, my darling.”

   A scratch of a meow rasped.

   “Yes, I love you too. I’d kiss you if my lips weren’t done up.” She smacked her lips and stood. “Outfit.” Clothing pushed around. Her room was a small, intimate space. Few pictures and purple curtains. Desks covered in song lyrics, trinkets, and needle felting projects.

   Evie held up garments to the cat, but he was no help. Just purred there like a motor boat. Settled on a black top with some sparkle and a magenta wash denim jacket. Jewelry was a must, she preferred earrings that were huge acrylic hearts. Bourbon had gotten into the window to watch the window across the way. 

   Billy wandering shirtless and damp. Muscles red and bulging like he’d done a quick work out

   “Yeah, not today, my sweet.” Evie plucked the cat from the window and reached to close the blinds. Billy caught her. Winked and licked his lips slower. She made a face at him. Utterly loathing and not impressed at his peacock way of navigation. “Ew." 

   The blinds snapped down, leaving Billy to laugh there. Evie carried her purring cat out, chiding. 

   "Don’t make his head any bigger than it already is.”

~~~~

TAGLIST OPEN! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks!

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #Billy hargrove fanfic #Billy Hargrove imagine #SOMY #Angel Fenny #writing #mine #Billy x oc #billy x angel

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty One, “Timing”

Find all chapters to this story here! 

Check out the character survey from Becky’s POV I did recently! :-)

Warnings: Very brief mention of IVs (needles)

Song Inspo: My My Love by Joshua Radin (Click to listen)

                                    Sneaky Peeeeeeeeeky!

“A spark ignites on my cheek, almost like a tickle. And when I look over, his eyes are glued to me. The tip of his calloused finger brushes a ghost of a touch under my eye. “I neva knew ya hadda scar there,” he murmurs, running the tip of his finger over the oblong light brown shape.

“I-It’s not a scar,” I say quickly, but at the same time, at a loss for words. He’s so close his breath smelling of chamomile tea passes by me within a second. And God, those pouty strawberry lips are so decadent, and tempting. “It’s a birthmark. I usually cover it up with makeup, that’s probably why you’ve never seen it.” Finished, I turn my head back to the telly, his finger dropping from the barely one inch mark.

“Wha’? Why d’ya do that? ‘s lovely.” As much as I try to drown my thoughts in the scene unraveling before my eyes, I can’t. Because his words, and the tingling under my eye consume my thoughts. The devil and angel inside my head bounce up and down in their seats.”

“No. W-what are you doing here?” I stutter, unable to control my words. Or my thoughts. Or my emotions.

At the drop of my words, Harry’s face falls. His eyebrows. The budding smile on his lips. And the brightness in his eyes. But he masks it quickly. And it escapes my mind when he crosses the distance between us. His black slacks, teal geometric-patterned button down, and curls are a blur in the seconds that follow. Suddenly, his arms are around me and pulling me into him. With sleep still clinging to my mind, and unsure of what to do, I freeze. 

“Please don’t tell me you left work to drive 3 hours to come to Madley,” I confess quietly into the damp shoulder of his black peacoat. Shivering, his fingers run trails up and down my back. 

“Shuddup, I ‘ave a case t’morrow nearby in Wolverhampton . . . Jus’ lemme do sumthin’ nice fer ya,” he says, his soft words drifting over the top of my head. 

“I-I’m sorry. I just woke up and you caught me off guard,” I apologize meekly, feeling myself relax. My arms wind around his waist and lace themselves together over his coat. 

“‘s okay,” he hums. His hands pause and I feel them brush my hair away. “I know ya hadda rough night- well couple o’ days,” Harry murmurs, his lips brushing against my hair. My lungs still and I wait, wondering if he’ll kiss my head. But it doesn’t come, and I try to will away the disappointment beginning inside of me. I’ve become so accustomed to it that it doesn’t want to leave this time. Then it’s joined by the happy disbelief appearing wet in my eyes. 

“Couldn’ stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, an’ figured I had t’ come up ‘ere t’morow mornin’ anyways. Wha’s an extra night hurt?” The first few words do it for me, and there I am spewing tears all over his shoulder. They’re not a waterfall, but the emotions growing inside of me feel that way. And they’re here, because he is. 

He holds me tighter against him, and I feel his cheek rest on my head. Holding on tight to his coat, I let myself and everything I’m feeling melt against him. “You don’t know what it means to me that you’re here,” I confess in a trembling voice interrupted by sniffling. 

“I think I do do, ‘coz you were there fer me tha day o’ tha funeral when I needed a friend. An’ at tha hospital. Ya showed up fer me, Becks, an’ I wanted t’ do tha same fer ya,” Harry reveals softly from above me. My lips bend into a happy smile amongst the tears that come harder at his words. “I brought dinna, ‘cuz I knew ya prolly hadn’t eaten. ‘s luck that I found ya atta vendin’ machine.”

His precious laugh greets my ears as his fingers tickle up my back. The bunches of fabric leave my hands, and I step away to search for those green eyes. After a few seconds, I find them staring down at me. They’re blurry behind the tears, but soon his smiling face sharpens. 

“No mo’ tears, ‘kay? Le’s go eat some dinna an’ find  sumthin’ good on tha telly,” Harry whispers, running the pad of his thumb along my cheeks. Nodding, his hand envelopes mine and we go to find a sitting area.

The halls are deserted besides a few nurses checking in on patients. Familiar medical-sounding beeps sound throughout the hallway. After guiding the way for Harry as I wipe my cheeks, we soon find our dining table. Or rather a sofa with a little table. 

“I hope fish an’ chips ‘s alright,” he says, doubt filling his words. 

“Of course they are. Did you get them from Maggie’s over on Fifth?”

“Yeah, I think so. Li’l shop with photos coverin’ tha walls?” he questions as he unpacks the brown paper bag. 

“Yep, that’s the one. They make the best fish and chips I’ve had. And I would know, because I grew up eating these ones my entire life.”

“Well I guess ya would know then,” Harry relents, shrugging his shoulders with a toothy smile. 

Whispered ‘thank yous’ float between us as we pass each other food and napkins. With two cups of water from the cooler a few steps away, we dig in. 

“No kiddin’, these are good. ‘s always tha family owned shops that make tha best ones, innit?” Harry mumbles with a mouth full of food. I reply with an ‘mmmhmm’, trying not to laugh at the crumbs speckling his chin. 

The crispy, buttery cod melts on my tongue. With my free hand, I grab hold of the gray remote sitting on the table beside me. 

“Hey, ‘s my turn t’ pick what we watch,” Harry whines, stealing the remote from me. 

“Rude!” I retort, but any words I had left to say collapse into laughter. Licking his thumb, he peeks over at me. A sly grin stuck to his lips. 

Shaking my head, I look away and pick up a chip from the paper tray in my hand. When my eyes return to him, a ketchup-covered chip sits in his hand. Meanwhile, his face is screwed up in concentration at the telly. I smile, and then notice his reflection in the dark window on the other side of him. Kicking his foot with my right, he turns to the left to look at me in confusion. 

“Just pick something!” I tell him, my palm turning up to help me talk. His dark curls dance atop his head as it goes from side to side. 

“Oh hush, you. Cantcha letta man think?” he quips before feeding the chip past his cherry lips. 

“No, not when it takes you an hour to pick what to watch,” I reply, yanking it from his hands. 

“Heeeey! I was jus’ gonna pick that episode o’ Friends!” 

“Wait, you like Friends?!” I nearly yell, my head snapping to look at him. 

“O’course! Who doesn’t? I grew up watchin’ that show with me mum an’ sista,” he answers. With those words, my heart does a somersault in my chest. Oh my fuck, I’m falling again. “Wha’? Do ya not like it?”

“No, I-I love it. I grew up watching it, too. It’s like my comfort show - I watch it when I’m happy, sad, mad, excited- you name it,” I reply slowly, engrossed in gathering ketchup onto my chip. When I hear his murmured ‘me too’ from a mouth full of food, the devil and angel inside of me go crazy. For once, they seem to root for the same team. 

“Favourite characta?” his words greet the air effortlessly. He licks the salt and grease from his thumb, and I suddenly regret looking up. The things you do to me, Styles. 

“On the count of 3?” I ask, and his chestnut ringlets bounce with a nod. 

“1 . . . 2 . . . 3.”

“Phoebe!” we both say in unison, sending us into fits of giggles. 

“There’s nuthin’ betta than her on dat show. She’s hilarious, plays guitar, ‘s a surrogate fer her bloody brotha, an’ ‘s gorgeous,” Harry explains, and I’m following with every word. And with each one, I feel the butterflies in my tummy flutter again. For possibly the tenth time already tonight. 

“All of the great jokes and catchphrases from the show are from her: Regina Phalange, Smelly Cat, Princess Consuela Banana Hammock, ‘I don’t even have a pla’, Gladys the framed doll, and that stupid taxi. She’s blunt and so funny, but she’s so sweet and would do anything for her friends,” I continue, watching him nod emphatically as he picks up another chip. 

“Couldn’ ‘ave said it betta meself. Oh I love dis episode where they’re stuck at tha beach house. Poor Phoebs findin’ out tha truth ‘bout her mum dat way, tho’,” Harry comments, his mouth falling into a delighted and then sad O. My eyes follow his to the screen of the telly where our attention is held for the next twenty minutes. 

My shoes only stop squeaking when I stop in front of the garbage bin. After tossing the greasy paper bag, I rub a pump of hand sanitizer into my hands. I wince at the awful sounds my shoes make as I try to walk quietly down the tiled hallway. The snoring greets my ears before I see him, but when I do, I smile. With careful steps, I pluck my backpack from the couch before leaving the room. 

“He still sleepin’?” Harry asks, looking up from the Friends marathon from the telly. We scored! 

“Yep,” I answer, plopping down onto the sofa beside him. 

“Good,” he answers, slumping down further into the gray cushions. My backpack drops with a thud to the floor after I got what I needed. “What’re ya doin’? ‘s eleven-thirty, love. Tha’s no time t’ be doin’ homework.”

“I know, but I need to submit an assignment before I forget. It’s due at midnight,” I answer, seeing his nod out of the corner of my eye. 

My laptop wakes with its usual jingle, and I watch my browser load. The audience laughter fills my ears at a humorous line from Chandler. Surprise, surprise. The maroon and navy blue colors of my uni’s website appear in front of me. Within a few moments, I’m on the web page for my course. 

“Wha’s tha assignment?” Harry inquires, his eyes never leaving the telly. A laugh creases his cheeks, making me smile. But I’m not very sad I missed what’s so funny, because he makes up for it. 

“Um, it’s an essay about Thomas Cromwell and his theories and stuff,” I reply, opening the page for assignments. 

“Ah, I see they ‘aven’t changed coursework much from my day. Cromwell ‘s bloody obvious when ya start talkin’ ‘bout British law.”

“I know, it’s like the professor didn’t even try when drafting this assignment,” I comment with a small titter. Relief washes over me when I get a message saying my submission was successful. And something else too from being able to talk to him about law so easily. Something akin to how a hot chocolate makes you feel on a winter’s day.

I glance up and find Harry losing it with laughter. There’s a fleeting temptation to ask him to clue me in. But a laugh tingles on my lips when I find what he’s laughing at. Monica’s crying as she holds onto Chandler’s arm, an ocean scene in the background. 

“Can’ believe Joey actually peed on Monica.” The words leave Harry’s mouth in between chuckles rather sloppily. 

“He was just trying to help!” I comment, unable to stop laughing either. 

“But it doesn’t even help! They say it makes it worse even,” he laughs, rubbing his forehead.  

Shaking my head, my eyes fall to my laptop screen. After a few clicks, lines of text cloud my eyes. My eyes roll into the back of my head at their appearance. I find it nearly impossible to hold back a groan. 

“What’re you gripin’ ‘bout ova here?” Harry questions with teasing in his tone.

“I have to read the entire case of Haughton v. Smith for a test, and it’s so confusing. I mean, working with you brushed me up on a lot of legal mumbo jumbo. But still, a lot of it doesn’t make sense to me,” I huff, my chin falling into the palm of my hand.  

“Alright, lemme see what part yer at,” he says in a quiet voice. I try to ignore the regret budding inside of me at what I said about working at his firm. And how it makes me feel, and probably him, too. I don’t know why I ever bring it up, because sometimes it feels like when somebody else brings up the ex-boyfriend, or something. The sofa cushion dips as he closes the space between us. The angel and demon inside of me erupt into synonymous cheers when his arm goes around me. 

“God, did you forget your glasses or something, Grandpa?” my question sputters from my lips in a cackle, watching him squint at the screen.

“Oh shuddup, an’ I mean it,” Harry quips, looking away for a moment. When I see the reason why, instead of a laugh consuming my thoughts, something else does. For some fucking reason, my heart warms at the sight of him unfolding a pair of mottled brown Pantos glasses. He tucks the brown case into the inside of his blazer, his peacoat on a chair. “Ya ya, laugh all ya want at me an’ me readin’ glasses.” 

But when he looks down at me with them settled on his nose, I don’t laugh. “Why aren’t ya laughin’ anymo’, hmm?” he questions. 

“I think they look really nice on you. They make you look handsome and sophisticated,” I tell him slowly, and it’s undeniable the pink that pinches his cheeks. 

“Well ‘s ‘bout time fer dat t’ happen, only took me twenty-nine years,” he jokes, bringing a smile to my lips. My head goes from side to side as I close my eyes, my cheeks bunching from happiness painting my lips. Yeah, it’s about time for a lot of things right about now. “Alrigh’, lemme look what part yer at fer real now.”

I nod, trying to get comfortable on the sofa. Pitching my head back, I feel it bump into his arm. Nevermind my fucked neck, I return my eyes to the screen to try and forget that his arm is around me. But they immediately refuse and slowly trail to Harry, his face mere inches away from mine. 

Okay, no, stop thinking about his lips and what they could do, I tell the demon inside of my head. 

Becky, you could. You so know you could do it. 

Shut up! He’s just helping me with my homework, that’s all this is. 

Oh yeah? And when are you going to let yourself think about the real reason he’s here, huh?

I can’t do that right now. 

Yes, you can! Maybe if you think about it, you’ll realize how good of an idea it would be to let yourself kiss him. I’m sure he’s thinking about it too.

Just stop!

His thumb and forefinger knead his bottom lip. It bunches together in little waves as his eyes flit across the screen. Whiskers the shade of his curls are scattered across his face. They’re dense atop his upper lip and around his chin. And God, I can’t stop thinking about them. Wanting to touch them. Feel them on my face- okay stop it, Becky. 

“Well yer mostly at tha end, so wha’ doesn’t make sense t’ ya?” Harry finally says, turning his head ever so slightly to look at me. 

“I know, but I feel like I don’t know what I just read. And the verdict is contradicting to me,” I answer with a shrug of my shoulders. 

“Well maybe it’d make more sense t’ ya if ya weren’t lookin’ at it at almos’ midnigh’, love.”

“Yeah, well it’s kind of the only time I have lately with everything. I’m afraid to email my prof again saying I need an extension when it’s due tomorrow. I’ve needed a lot of them lately. I just wanna get it done,” I respond quietly, looking to the telly awkwardly. It’s always hard when the truth comes out, and the emotions that hang on to it. 

A spark ignites on my cheek, almost like a tickle. And when I look over, his eyes are glued to me. The tip of his calloused finger brushes a ghost of a touch under my left eye. “I neva knew ya hadda scar there,” he murmurs, running the tip of his finger over the oblong light brown shape. 

“I-It’s not a scar,” I say quickly, but at the same time, at a loss for words. He’s so close his breath smelling of chamomile tea passes by me within a second. And God, those pouty strawberry lips are so decadent, and tempting. “It’s a birthmark. I usually cover it up with makeup, that’s probably why you’ve never seen it.” Finished, I turn my head back to the telly, his finger dropping from the barely one-inch mark. 

“Wha’? Why d’ya do that? ‘s lovely.” As much as I try to drown my thoughts in the scene unraveling before my eyes, I can’t. Because his words, and the tingling under my eye consume my thoughts. The devil and angel inside my head bounce up and down in their seats. 

“Kids used to make fun of it when I was little. They’d call it a worm under my eye, because of its shape. It used to be more pronounced and bigger when I was little, but it’s still pretty noticeable,” I answer, adding in an eye roll that he laughs at. 

“Aww, poor Becks. But if it counts, I don’ think it looks like a worm. ‘s cute on you,” he adds seriously, pinching my cheek. That makes me look over at him, and I already know that I’m blushing. 

A small ‘thanks’ leaves my lips before my eyes dip to my laptop. Close to a minute of silence grows between us before he breaks it. “‘Kay, so Haughton vs. Smith found that ya can’t commit tha crime o’ handlin’ stolen goods, if tha goods they’re talkin’ ‘bout weren’t actually stolen. ‘s an important case t’ know, cuz it was ‘ventually ovaturned by tha Criminal Attempts Act o’ ‘81. Ya’ll neva be able t’ forget tha connection between tha two, issa given. Ya don’ need t’ worry ‘bout that law now tho’, they basically mean tha same thing.” 

“Thanks for explaining it, I hope it’s enough to help me pass the test on it,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest stubbornly. 

“Open tha test, an’ ‘ll help ya with it.”

The second my eyes land on Joey’s body covered in sand on the telly, they whip back to Harry. “Really, you’d help me?”

“‘Course I would. Tha’s what ‘m here fer. An’ it wouldn’t hurt t’ see if I still got it.”

“You’ve been a lawyer for years, and this is pre-law, so of course you do. And not to mention, ranked as one of the best in London,” I reply smiling, clicking open a new tab. I suspect how my words will make him feel, because they fill me with the same emotions. Pride. Happiness. Astonishment. And more pride. 

“Well, I do me best,” Harry titters proudly. A cocky hum leaves his lips as he brushes off his chest. A laugh sputters from my lips that I can’t contain. “Heeeey, don’ be laughin’ at me.”

“Sorry, I just can’t control myself when you start dropping dad jokes,” I respond nonchalantly, clicking on the tab labeled ‘Assessments.’

“Just pull tha bloody test up an’ le’s get it ova with,” he huffs, amusement still lacing through his words. 

“Awww, is it past your bedtime already?” I pout, turning my eyes to him. His lips smush together and I hear the smallest of squeaks get past them. “You know you like my grandpa jokes, don’t lie.”

“Shuddup, li’l one, an’ open tha goddamn test already,” he huffs. If anybody else heard him, they’d think he was mad at me. But even as my eyes cast over the column of tests from this course, I know different. I can hear it in his voice - the joking, the molasses, the affectionate teasing, and the friendship. 

Wow, nice choice of words there, Ms. Denial. 

Shut up, devil. 

“I am not little!” I retort in a high voice, making my two tabs appear as two windows on my screen. Side by side. Cheating time!

“Becks, yer like 5’5, if that.”

“No, I’m not! I’m 5’6, you liar!”

“Ya, cuz that one lousy inch really does a whole lot, doesn’t it?” Harry counters, his voice melting into a goofy one. I respond to it with a hearty laugh that is soon accompanied by his. “Yer still a li’l one t’ me, love.” 

“Fine, Grandpa Harry.”

+

The annoying sound of a laugh track pricks at my ears. Blinking hard, the room around me is blurry. But after a groggy minute of blinking, it begins to sharpen. I don’t remember the lights getting turned off, but the telly screen burns my eyes. Rubbing them, I moan from tiredness. Dropping my arm, I feel it hit something. Looking down, I’m confused. When I lift my head from whatever it was resting on, I find what I was laying on. And well, what was also laying on me. Still is. Her face scrunches adorably before relaxing, nuzzling her head against my shoulder once more. 

Becks. 

After combing my hair off of my forehead, the lock screen of my phone wakes me up a little more. Especially when I see that it reads 1:18 am. Fuck, I need to get to my hotel and go to bed. I have my case tomorrow. But when I hear a noise and find the culprit, all of those thoughts wash away. An incoherent sound runs off of her lips, ones that are so close to me. Fuck, again. But when my eyes scan the rest of my body, I realize that she’s all over me. Well, almost. Her right hand rests on my chest as she leans against the back of the sofa. But her pretty little head of dark hair is laying on my shoulder. My arm is around her, holding her close to me. I can feel her other arm tickling my side. 

Memories float to the surface, and suddenly I’m back at the hospital in London. In December. A phone call woke me from my slumber beside her on the sofa. The both of us curled up on opposite sides. Sleep clinging to my eyes and begging to me to return to it. Her shoulders rising with every soft snore, but it was the most daintiest one I’d ever heard. It felt like my heart was being squeezed tighter with every move I made to leave her. When I draped the second blanket over her. And how much it hurt to move the hair off of her face. To press a kiss to her unknowing head. But nothing compared to the anguish I felt grow with every step I put between us. 

Blinking hard, the dark room materializes around me again. Her precious snores welcome my return to the moment. A smile brings my lips upwards as I watch a crease grow between her eyebrows. She’s too goddamn adorable. And that’s why I came, isn’t it? Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t resist her. I can’t say no to Becky. When she called me crying and a mess worrying about her dad, I didn’t know what I was doing until I was putting the town of Madley into my GPS. I guess The Beatles were right with that one song, and plenty of others. She’s really got a hold on me. And before I could begin to stop myself, her skin is like velvet under my thumb. I rub the crease away with the pad of it, and suddenly my head dips. My lips barely brush her hair when she groans below me. 

“Harry?” she murmurs, lifting her head from my shoulder. 

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

She yawns, moving away to look around sleepily. But soon she returns back to my arms, cozying up to me once more. And I couldn’t be more thankful, or conflicted. The latter word drills into my mind as I rub a hand down her back, sleep trying to coax me back in, too. 

“We fell asleep,” she mumbles, her honey voice coated in that very word. Fuck, does it make me feel things. Things that I’d much rather not. 

“Yeah, ‘s one in tha mornin’.”

“Shitttt,” she sighs, sitting up fast. Her growing locks pour over her shoulders covered by a crewneck jumper. Faded pictures of balls from different sports are scattered across the heather gray fabric. Like something my dad wore when I was a tot. “You have your case tomorrow.”

“‘m fine, I already dropped me stuff off at tha hotel an’ got me key,” I tell her, missing the warmth of her against me. And I miss the fact in those words alone of what I’m missing. Her in my arms. “But ya should prolly get sum sleep, too. Seems like ya’ve been missin’ it lately.”

“I’m okay, just lots of homework,” Becky says, running her long fingers through her wavy hair. 

“‘d offa me hotel room, but ‘s half an hour ‘way in Wolverhampton. An’ there’s only tha one bed,” I tell her, unsure of why. I blame it on the sleepy brain. 

“Thanks, but I’m okay. I’ll just sleep on the couch in his room. It’s not too bad once you get used to it,” she assures me. Her arms crack as she stretches them toward the ceiling. I can’t help myself when the baggy jumper rides up, exposing the slightest of her milky white tummy. Fuck. But just like that, it’s gone in a flash. If only my feelings worked that way. 

It’s like she has some sixth sense that I’m thinking about her, because her eyes cast over to me. It’s hard to make out their ocean blue in this dark, but I know they’re there. I can picture them if I need to, because I do it all the time - trying to make myself remember what they look like. The exact shade. The speckles of darker blue amongst the color. 

“Yer welcome,” I return. The tired smile I get in return melts my insides like butter. But that’s how I feel when I’m around her, and that’s how much of a hold she’s got on me. 

Shocks of electricity dance across the back of my hand. I don’t need to look down to know her hand is on top of mine. And how it’s making me go crazy. She’s only a few inches away. I could do it. Before I stop myself, I begin to lean in, and she watches me do it. But with only a few seconds left, we jump apart at the sound of a ringtone. 

Embarrassment covers me like a dark cloud, among other nasty emotions. My head falls, hiding the heat rising to my cheeks. Pulling out my phone to distract myself, it doesn’t do that great of a job as I hear her talk to somebody on the phone. Dammit, I was so close. With a hand in my hair, I scroll through emails. Deleting some and saving others. 

“Sorry, that was Robbie. Just checking in, since I forgot to update him, I guess,” Becky tells me, lifting my head with her voice. 

My head only goes up and down, avoiding eye contact. Because I can’t muster it after what just happened, or what didn’t. 

“‘s late, ya should get sum rest,” I announce, getting to my feet. Picking up my coat, I slip it on before I dare to look at her.

She smiles shyly at me, sleep hanging around her eyes. Even rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her jumper is precious. And her legs jittering in her faded blue jeans. Vans the shade of her favorite color donning her feet. 

“Yeah, you too,” is all she has to say.

Suddenly, I don’t know what to do. For a mere second, I entertain the thought of trying again. But fuck it, she’s so far away right now, figuratively and literally. I can catch a hint of her scent sticking to me, and it makes me sad to realize. 

“Go get sum sleep, ‘kay?” Are the only words I can think of as I walk up to her and pat her arm. 

“Yeah, you too, Harry. Careful driving.”

“Thanks, Becks, I will. Sweet dreams, love,” I mutter, looking at her over my shoulder. 

And I keep walking, and leave her behind. Regrets coursing through my ears, and emotions tugging at my seams. The tiredness coating my every thought and action, only make it all the worse. I’m not sure if I want to wake up more for the car drive to the hotel, because then it will all feel even more real. And discouraging. 

“Harry?” stopping in my tracks, I hear her call my name. Spinning around, I feel her before I see her. Her arms surround around my waist and her head comes to lay against my chest. All within seconds. “Thank you . . . for coming.”

A pain sounds in my chest when I hear the emotion in her voice. And it takes all of me to not echo it, because I know I could. And that I would. Instead I say, “Yer welcome, Becks,” and I do at least one thing I wanted to do tonight. Dipping my head, I smooth down her hair and press my lips to her hair for more than a few seconds. 

The sweet smell of orange blossom greets me, and my smile is havoced by pain. Her warm breaths tickle the skin at my neck as my hands lace together at the small of her back. Her arms squeeze me around the middle before releasing, and she lets go of me. I think about trying again, but the thought is fleeting when she begins to walk away from me. 

And I let her do it. Once again. 

+

The burbling of the running water fills my ears. Well, besides the sound of the football match. Surprise, surprise. And the next sound. His cheering. It makes me smile as I wipe my hands with a paper towel. 

“What’s the score now?” I ask, walking back into the room. His eyes don’t go to me at the question, instead they remain on the screen. 

“Six-two. It doesn’t look too good for ‘em,” my dad replies snarkily, a devilish glint in his eyes. But it’s there, and that’s all that matters. It’s what makes the smile stick to my face. 

“Don’t let your food get cold,” I say, bending over to dig into my backpack. 

“I’m done eating. You can have the rest, Ree,” he replies just as I feel the smooth handle I’m searching for.

“I’m okay, thanks. I was probably going to check out the special in the cafe.”

“Oh so only I have to eat the hospital food?” my dad whines, pouting at me when I look at him. 

With a laugh, I remark, “I’m eating their food in the cafe too, you dork.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry, chemo brain,” he replies, tapping a finger against his head. A striped green hat keeping it warm. His arm returns to the white blanket pulled up to his waist. Light shines in his eyes and his arms lift into the air when they make yet another goal. 

Whoops and hollers leave his chapped lips. But this morning, they’re pinker. And so is his skin. If only in the slightest, I notice them. Running the brush through my knotted hair, I yawn as I watch him. A patterned hospital gown covers his upper half, with the sleeves just coming to above the IVs in his left arm. Fluids and meds. The antibiotics. Yippee. 

But the thoughts are mulled over when I look to his plate sitting on the moveable tray beside him. It was scrambled eggs, toast, applesauce, and milk this morning. And he ate nearly half of it, even if it took about half an hour. But I want to blame part of that on the football match his eyes are stuck to. 

“I’m going to see if I can find your doctor. I had a question,” I tell him, dropping my hairbrush back into my backpack. 

“Ree, don’t worry about it. He’ll come by later,” my dad insists, but I stand from my chair regardless of his answer. 

“It’s fine. I need to stretch my legs anyways.” 

He hums a reply I can’t decode, but I hear his teasing about blocking the telly when I walk by. Over my shoulder, he flashes me a small smile before returning to yelling lazily at the referees. Nurses and doctors pass me, going to and from rooms to the nearby nurse’s station. Tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear, I search for the shock of white hair of my dad’s doctor. 

But no such luck. 

As I approach the nurse’s station, sounds of beeping, call lights, and murmuring voices fill the air. But another sound stands out from the rest. And I hear my name, or well my last name. It takes me a second to locate where it’s coming from, but when I do there’s a flutter in my chest. And I know I’m in trouble, or maybe that I’m just realizing it now after all of this time. 

But I don’t save him right away, and instead I observe. Confusion sews his eyebrows together over those misty green eyes. One lone curl tickles his forehead, breaking free from his damp hair. His black peacoat is draped over his arm clad in a warm violet blazer. A dusty rose button down peeks out from its collar, and I smile. I don’t even know why. But as the seconds tick by watching him talk to the nurse, I think I know why. 

“Looking for me, Styles?” I pipe up, stepping forward with my hands hidden away in my hoodie.

Harry’s eyes fall from the nurse and pan over to me. A lazy smile works its way onto his face quickly, only interrupted to thank the nurse. 

“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, turning to walk towards me. 

“What are you doing here? You have your case today, you said,” I respond, playing with the sleeve of my black hoodie. The cracked decal of Robbie’s old band covers the front. 

“Came t’ bring ya out t’ brekky. Me case doesn’t start ‘til tha aftanoon, bug,” he responds with half of a smile, pinching my arm affectionately. And there’s that nickname, again, I think as my insides turn to mush. “Well jus’ down t’ tha cafe if tha’s alright. I saw sumthin’ ‘bout biscuits ‘n gravy, an’ sumthin’ smelled mighty delicious when I came in.”

“That sounds great,” I say, a smile inching its way up my lips. The wet ends of my hair knock against each other, and my chin. “I’ll just let my dad know,” I tell him, turning around to walk away. 

But after only a few steps, a sudden thought brings me to halt. It wills my feet to turn around and look at Harry. “Would you like to meet him?” I ask tentatively in a meek voice. “He’s doing a little better this morning, but I think that’s thanks to the Arsenal match on the telly.”

With what appears to be a shaky smile, he replies, “‘d love t’. Hope ‘s not me Manchester United boys playin’ ‘gainst ‘em.”

Waving a hand towards me, he closes the distance between us. His leather boots squeak from the last bits of melting April snow. It’s only a few moments before I peek my head into his room, and low and behold, he’s still transfixed by the match. 

Rapping my knuckle against the door, I get his attention before saying, “Hey, can I steal you away from your precious game for a few? There’s a friend of mine I’d like you to meet.”

“Yeah, sure,” he responds, adjusting his blankets before the telly’s volume falls. Over my shoulder, I shoot Harry an encouraging smile. He returns it, but I can see the nerves showing through. 

Pushing open the door fully, I walk in and he follows from behind. 

“Dad, this is Harry Styles. My uh, former boss I’ve told you about,” I fumble for words, giving a magician-like wave to him. Well, the right words. “He stopped by last night and brought me dinner. He has a case today in Wolverhampton, and we’re going to get breakfast downstairs before.”

A weary smile curls at the corners of my dad’s lips. Nodding, his dusty pink lips part, “Ah, so this is the fella you were with until all hours last night,” he jests, pulling nervous laughter into the air. “Yes, it’s about time we met. I’ve heard a lot about you, son. Thanks for everything you’ve done for Becky, and for your well wishes. It’s meant a whole damn lot to me, and I know for her too.” 

Okay, dad, let’s not board the emotional bus yet. Or maybe, ever.  

Happy laughs float around the room as Harry steps forward, rubbing hand sanitizer into his hands. “‘s a pleasure t’ meet ya as well, sir,” he rasps, reaching out to shake my dad’s hand firmly. 

“Call me Chuck, Harry. I’m not that old yet, although sometimes it feels that way,” my dad jokes, widening the smiles on all of our faces.

“Yes, ‘course, Chuck. I’ve also heard loads ‘bout ya, all good things, so no worries. Ya’ve been in me prayers an’ thoughts ova tha last 7 months. Sure raised a great daughter, ya should know.” 

A permanent smile warms my cheeks as I shyly look over to Harry. He meets my eyes and smiles back at me. Winking, he shove his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Thank you, son. That’s mighty good to hear, although I’m not too sure about that son of mine sometimes,” he laughs, soon getting a scoff from me. 

“Oh I mean Robbie, too. I’ve only met tha bloke once or twice, but I was impressed. Certainly since I was surprised t’ find out Becky hadda twin,” Harry comments, his eyes burning a hole into my cheek. 

“Yes, I think I’ve heard that story. Their mother and I were pretty surprised to find there was two, also,” he chuckles. “But Ree likes to do that sometimes.”

Shaking my head, I look away and to the Spring sunshine. It seeps in through the cracks in between the window shades. Their soft laughs fill my ears before Harry’s voice does again. 

“Yeah she’s a spitfire, alright,” he comments, and finally I meet his smirking eyes before they return to my dad. “But ‘m glad t’ hear yer doin’ a bit betta. Hopefully they can get a good handle on dis soon, an’ you lot can go home.”

“Thank you. We hope so too,” my dad nods, running his thumb along the buttons of the tv remote. “I truly appreciate you taking the time to be here with Becky . . I know it means more than words to her.” 

Looking away to the floor, his words find the chink in my armor. I feel the lump rise in my throat along with memories of last night. Luckily, the tears stay away and I get away with it. 

“‘Course, ‘m glad I was able t’ come an’ be with her. Dunno if she told ya, but she was there fer me when my grandad was in tha hospital befo’ he passed. An’ well, I know how much it means t’ ‘ave sumbody there,” Harry murmurs, almost giving a reason for the tears to make an appearance. But they don’t, and I’m repeating ‘thank yous’ inside of my head. 

“I’m pretty proud of my little Rebecca Ann, and it only grows more every day,” my dad comments, flitting his eyes over to me. His words make my cheeks tingle with a new blush and because I know another pair are on me, too. 

“Yeah, she makes it ratha easy,” Harry agrees softly, pulling my attention to him. The gentlest smile sits atop his lips, and a sad sweetness twinkles in his eyes. 

“Well, we’ll let you get back to your match. We’re going to grab breakfast before everybody else gets the same idea,” I pipe in, unsure of when and how to sever the moment. But the look in Harry’s eyes does something to me, and I don’t know what to do with it. 

We exchange short goodbyes before I’m following Harry out of the room. The rising volume of the football announcers voices send us on our way. 

“Rebecca Ann, huh?” Harry smiles beside me, the nurse’s station in our rearview mirrors. 

“Go ahead and make jokes about it. It doesn’t even sound like my name, I don’t know. I’ve only ever went by that for forms, when I got in trouble, or like on the first day of school and graduation. And the Ann is just my middle name, I don’t have a two parter,” I explain hurriedly, surprising myself when I don’t hear one of his delightful giggles. Tearing my eyes away from the poster at the end of the hallway, I look to him. And he isn’t laughing, which confuses me. 

“There’s no jokes t’ be had. I think ‘s pretty, yer name. Figured ya were a Rebecca, but wasn’t sure. Nor did I know yer middle was Ann. Tha’s my mum’s name, ‘ve always loved it,” he tells me, coming to a stop in front of the gunmetal colored doors of the lift. The sickeningly sweet look on his face sends the butterflies in my tummy to flight. Again.

“Oh thanks,” I almost blurt, pressing the button to go down. But then as we step into the welcoming lift, more come to me. “It was my grandmother’s name. It always made me feel closer to her, like I always had a piece of her with me.”

“Tha’s nice. ‘ve always liked it when parents carry on family names like dat. It makes me think ‘d like t’ do tha same with me own kids one day,” Harry continues as I watch the doors shut, cutting us off from the rest of the world. If only for a few minutes. But still. 

“Me too.”

“So nobody ever calls ya Becca?” Harry inquires, catching my attention. 

“Eh, not really. Maybe Skye sometimes, and my grandma Ann did, but not much anymore.”

“Hmm maybe ‘ll hafta use it then,” he quips, but then he wears a confused smile he pulled out of thin air. “Eh I dunno, actually. Ya’ll always be me Becks,” he finishes, making my heart do a dance. And fueling the angel and demon having a party inside of my head. 

“Yeah, I agree. Anything else would sound weird.”

“Ya look like ‘im, ya know. Tha eyes, tha hair, and tha shape o’ yer face - bloody spitting image ya are. ‘Specially Robbie,” Harry acknowledges.

“We get that a lot, but thanks, I like to hear it. Sometimes I can’t see it, though,” I recall. “Which parent do you look like?”

“Um, dunno. I get comments ‘bout lookin’ like both o’ me parents. I guess I mostly ‘ave people say I look like me dad with sum o’ my mum’s features. Which sounds wild.”

“Yeah, I can relate with people saying I look like my dad. It’s like, oh thanks for saying I look like a boy,” I laugh. Turning to look at him on my left, a small one sputters from his smiling cherry lips. 

“I know, ‘s weird.”

“I can see it, though. How people think you look like him,” I tell him. When I watch his lips settle into a silent, straight line, I feel instant regret. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, ‘s okay. Jus’ hard hearin’ people say ya look like sumbody ya don’ like.”

A small ‘oh’ passes over my lips before I can stop it. My eyes leave him and go to the changing red number above my head. Words bubble up inside of me, and I tell them to stop. But then I can’t. 

“I think I know how you feel,” I murmur, daring to look over at him, her face flashing in my mind. His far away eyes lift from the floor and pan over to me. 

I try not to lose myself in their infinity of green, but it’s worthless. And soon I am, and thoughts of last night leak from my memories. 

I know it’s at the back of his mind too. That almost kiss. The one he tried to initiate, and the one I want so bad. Five months ago, I don’t know if I would’ve. But now in this moment and in this elevator, all alone with him, I couldn’t want something more. 

Or somebody. 

#the assistant #pa harry #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #chaptered fic #boss harry #ceo harry #lawyer harry #harry styles au #harry au #lawyer au #personal assistant #assistant au #wattpad #fan fic #writing #my writing #keep

[belovedkingx]

BTS Reaction | walking in on them masturbating

Namjoon -

Seokjin had asked you to tell Namjoon that dinner was ready, you were starving. You rushed towards his room, ready to eat. You remembered the last time you told namjoon the food was done, he made everyone wait on him for 30 minutes and that was not happening again, not on your watch. Without thinking, you opened the door and gasped, Namjoon whipped his head in your direction while covering himself with a pillow. "Oh my god, Namjoon I-I'm sorry, I should've... umm knocked," Namjoon smirked at that fact that you were stuttering and the fact that you were staring at the pillow that was covering his throbbing member. "Like what you see?" he said once he removed the pillow. You stood there with your mouth agape, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. You nodded in response to his question.

"Then come and sit on daddy's cock, babygirl."

Seokjin -

You woke up with the sun shining in the room. With sleepy eyes, you looked to the left and noticed that Seokjin was gone. "Maybe he's making breakfast," you thought. As you got up you heard a low noise but dismissed it due to your tired state. You made your way to the bathroom but before opening the door you heard a moan and knew exactly what was happening. You smirked, not feeling sleepy like you were 2 seconds ago. You open the door to see your boyfriend sitting there on the edge of the tub, his hand pumping himself while his eyes were shut tight, not seeing nor hearing you come in. His eyes shoot open, feeling startled when he felt your hands on his thighs. "Want some help?" He nods as a response while you got on your knees. When you replaced his hand with yours, pumping him faster he moaned out at the contact.

"Ooh fuck, yes right there, baby."​

Yoongi -

You had been gone for 2 weeks and Yoongi has been sending you sweet texts messages every morning, saying how much he misses you and how he couldn't wait for you to come home. You had told him that you would be back in two days even though you were already back, you only told him that cause you wanted to surprise him. You opened the front door quietly, leaving your suitcase and the door and kicking off your shoes. He told you he would be at home working all day so you headed in the direction of his office. As soon as you cracked the door you see him sitting in his chair with his head laid back. when you got closer you heard him moan your name as he pumped himself, which turned you on beyond belief. "Miss me?" You walked over to him then kneeled in front of him, moving his hands aside to grip his member, flicking your tongue over the slit.

“Y/N, fuck, please don’t tease me."​

Jimin -

You came home late so you thought that Jimin would be asleep by now. You opened the front door, trying to be careful not to wake him up. You were hanging up your coat when suddenly you hear your name being called out loud. You thought Jimin must have heard you come home and called you, you made your way down the hall towards your shared room and opened the door to see Jimin's head thrown back in pleasure as he hissed lightly, hand gripping his hard cock. He moans out your name once again, having no clue that you were actually standing in the doorway watching him. "Yes," you said smirking, making yourself known. His head shoots up in surprise, he then sits up, still holding his cock in one hand as he uses his index finger on his other hand to tell you to come to him.

"Can you help me out babygirl?"

Hoseok -

The alarm jolts you out of your peaceful sleep as it reads 6:30 AM. You groan turning it off, unhappy to have to be up so early to wake up your roommate Hoseok. He had been late for work a few times due to his alarm not waking him up so naturally, he asked you to be his extra alarm for the next couple of days. You hopped out of bed, rushing out of your room towards Hoseok's, knocking to make sure he wasn't already up and getting dressed, you didn't get a response so you opened the door, fully expecting him to be knocked out and snoring. Instead, he was completely naked with one hand stroking his member and the other holding his phone. As you hear moans coming from his earphones you realize that he didn't hear you enter because he didn’t stop what he was doing. You stood there for a moment shocked before deciding to just leave until you heard him moan your name, you looked back at him as he continued his action, still not noticing you. You walked over, crawling on top of him, he got startled and immediately pulled out the earphones then noticed that you eyeing his swollen cock.

"I think your mouth would be way better than my hand," he said with a smirk as he brushes his fingers through your hair.

Jungkook -

After returning home from a long run you decided to take a quick shower, change and get breakfast started for you and Jungkook, seeing as it was 8:47 AM. You went to the laundry room to get a towel and some clean clothes before heading down the hall into your room. As soon as you got into the room you immediately noticed that the bed was empty, then you heard the shower running, realizing he beat you to it. You thought you should just go ahead and cook while he showers so you decided to go in and ask him what he wanted for breakfast. As you walked in you heard a groan followed by a ‘Fuck’, thinking he hurt himself. "Babe, are you okay?" Jungkook sounded startled as he said your name. "Oh Y\n, I'm- I," He pauses for a moment before pulling back the green Jungle Print Shower Curtains, revealing his glistening body and harden member in hand. 

" Y\n Please, I need you to help me.”

Taehyung -

You were on a week trip with your family and your friend taehyung had offered to babysit your cat while you were gone. You ended up coming home a day early and texted Him that you would be home today but he never texted you back. When you had finally made it home, you opened the front door to see taehyung on the couch with his eyes closed, pumping his cock. as he’d gently moaned your name. "So this is why you didn't text me back," you said with a smirk causing him to jump and cover himself with a pillow. Taehyung watches as you make your way towards him, taking a seat on the couch next to him as you moved the pillow. You gripped his cock and pumped him a few times while he put his hand on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss. 

"Fuck, I just want to fuck you so deep and hard until you are screaming out my name."​

Thank you for reading!! 🙌❤✨ (Gifs are not mine)

#bts #bts ff #btsff #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan scenarios #bangtan reactions #Bangtan #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #park jimin #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #park jimin imagine #kim taehyung imagine #kim namjoon imagines #min yoongi imagines #jung hoseok imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #kim seokjin imagines

[ddaengyoonmin]

Chapter 8

Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Taehyung x reader, Jimin x reader, Namjoon x Reader, Jin x Reader  eventual Ot7 x reader in later chapters

Genre: fluff, angst, smut!!!

Theme: Based kinda on sword art online a lot of similar ideas and themes kinda combining the idea of them trapped in the game, but the world is closer to ALFheim online

Warnings: Swearing, Death (non main character) Fingering and female orgasm

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter 9

——————————————————————

   You yelled at you hit the stones below. “Please don't kill me.  I’ll give you all my items” you choked out.

“We don’t need your items” The fire fairy hissed out.  The fox hybrid fairy was silent and glaring Jimin’s way.  

“Wait. But then why…” you stuttered out, looking up at the three of them. They were still standing while you knelt on the ground.

The fire fairy who seemed to be in charge of this party took a step closer to you. With him standing close the light of his screen now allowed you to make out his features better.  His hair was a light blonde, almost white, his eyes were a dark brown and stern.  His clothes seemed to be dark burgundy with a black leather jacket placed over top.  

He crouched down to your eye level and you glanced at his screen ‘RM’ his gamer name read.  

“We need you to join our party.” he said calmly “I don’t know if you know this, but the amount of people that picked Water Fairy as their race is actually extremely low compared to all the others. Like one percent, so you’re rare.  And you’re the only race with healing powers.  I bet if people knew what this game would turn into things would’ve been different, but how could we have known” he sighed then continued

“So when the game maker left the sky and the crowd was in chaos, me and my brothers here” he motioned to Jimin and the Fox hybrid “We knew we’d fucked up by not having a healer in our party and made it our main mission to find one.  We saw that Shadow fairy leading you through the crowd and join up with that Sylph and we decided to follow.  We were close behind you the whole time.  Trailing you secretly only a few steps behind and out of sight.  Once we realized you wouldn’t just leave that party and join ours we came up with a plan to send our charming youngest brother here to get on your good graces and convince you to leave your party.”

You gasped. So they weren’t planning on stealing your items, they just wanted to steal you.

Jimin looked remorseful and stepped forward “I was supposed to get you to leave them, but I started feeling guilty for that.”

He was interrupted by RM “And that's where things kind of went to shit.  He tried begging us to reconsider, I think my brother has developed somewhat of a crush on you and didn’t like the idea of us using you.” He glared over at Jimin “But, I’m not really in the mood to indulge in childish crushes and concerns right now or any time in the near future. I hope you understand.  But, my only concern here is me and my brothers making it out of this hell alive”

The way RM spoke reminded you of Jungkook, he had the same type of attitude and determination about keeping the ones close to him alive that Jungkook had about you and Taehyung.  You understood but it didn’t quite make you feel much better about the position you were currently in.

Jimin spoke up again “I was actually out there talking to them again, trying to just get them to leave you alone, I was begging them to just find someone else, but then you walked out here after me.  I wish you hadn’t y/n” he frowned.

Finally the fox hybrid spoke up.  Crouched down close to you now you could better see his large orange and white ears poking through his dark hair.  The name on his screen reading ‘Jin’  “You ending up out here alone is an all too sweet opportunity we aren’t going to let slip through our fingers. We don’t want to hurt you.  But as my brother here has said, our motives are out of self preservation, we won't hesitate to use force. You will leave that party and join ours.  We aren’t giving you a choice” He sternly spoke.

You felt yourself start to tear up.  Your hands were shaking as you reached to your screen and went to the menu, clicking the buttons to leave Jungkook and Taehyung's party.  You wished you’d never gone to investigate, maybe you could have avoided all this. Maybe Jimin would have eventually convinced his brothers to leave you alone, but it was too late now.

“Good girl” RM nodded at you.  “I’ve sent you an invite.”  He stood up and you accepted the invite.  

Jimin was staring at his feet solemnly.  You were angry at him for not being honest with you, if he really wanted to look out for you he could’ve just told you what was going on.  

Jin pulled you up by your arm “We need to leave now, I don’t want to be bothered by your old party.”

RM nodded in agreement “We had a plan to go to the mountains once we found you.  I heard there's a dragon’s cave up there with some amazing loot.  Items that will surely make us the top players in the game with the highest chance of survival.”

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‘Jungkook’s point of view’

He had the most incredible dream.  He dreamt of your body against his in this very bed.  Pressed completely against his as you trailed your lips along his neck, his hands were touching your naked body, feeling every inch of you, it felt so real.  You were then kissing his chest, his stomach, light kisses reaching his hip bones and just as your lips were about to reach exactly where he wanted them he woke up.  His hand went to his crotch it was now just as hard awake as it had been in his dream.  He groaned wishing that it hadn’t just been a fantasy.

He turned over to look at you while you slept, just as he usually did many times in the night.  Except when he turned over you weren't there.

He shot up and looked around.  Taehyung was still asleep snoring loudly.  Jungkook got out of bed and walked over to the other side.  Jimin was gone too.  

A feeling a fear was sitting heavy in his stomach as he checked the lobby of the inn only to see you weren’t there either. He took a few deep breaths and checked his screen.  When someone is in a party with other players you can observe their health from the party screen.  He silently prayed that he wouldn’t see your health low or worse…

But instead, your name wasn't even there. And neither was Jimins.  “Shit!” He cursed loudly.  He rushed back up to Taehyung shaking him awake. “Tae she's gone! They’re gone! Get up now”

Taehyung fluttered his eyes open, confused, sleep still making him cloudy.  “What are you talking about?”

“She's not in our party! She's gone.  We have to go now” Jungkook felt anger burning inside of him.  How could he be so stupid, how long had you been gone? Where could Jimin have taken you? He wanted to kill that sly cat man for taking you.  

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You had been flying all night with Jimin and his two brothers.  Jimin had tried to apologize many times but you couldn’t even bear to look at him.  Your body felt numb and cold.  Partially because the area you were flying to was at the far north of the floor one map.  A place called Niflheim, a snowy area with many mountains.  The place where RM had said the dragon’s lair was.  He’d gotten a tip that the dragon always was away during the day, and if the four of you went to his lair during that time the loot would be unattended and free for the taking to whoever got there first.  

The air was getting colder and you noticed it had started to snow.  You all had taken many short breaks to recharge your flying stamina.  At each stop the snow seemed to grow thicker.  It was light now but you couldn't see a thing as you flew, the snow was blinding and surrounded the four of you fully.  You could barely make out Jimin through the snowstorm even though he was flying right next to you.  

Suddenly a flash of blue light lit up the sky you were in.  You saw another party that seemed to be flying side by side with your own, there were five players who all looked like they were Sylph’s, their green wings giving that away. For the split second that the strange blue light had lit up the air you saw looks of terror on each of their faces.  The light faded as quickly as it was there.  “What the fuck was that!” you heard screams from somewhere, you couldn’t tell if it was from one of the boy’s from your party or the one next to yours.  

The light lit up the sky a second time, this time brighter, and something else was visible through the thick white weather, it was a horror you hadn’t expected to encounter.  You could see the head of a large blue creature, it’s eyes menacing and large sharp teeth lining its jaws opened in an almost smile.  It was the dragon.  You couldn’t make out the rest of it’s body. Then the light again faded and you could hear RM shout out. “Shit shit shit shit.  We need to land! NOW!” the four of you tried to do your best to descend through the blinding weather.  

You heard screams piercing the air from above you as you tried to fly downward against the strong winds that seemed to want to blow you right back up.  

The blue light flashing again, you could see the full shape of the enormous wings and body of the dragon, the light you now realized was coming from its mouth.  In one swift breath, it let out a strong attack of blue fire.  

To your horror and shock, the fire was directed to the party that had been flying next to you.  You’d never be able to get what you just witnessed out of your mind for the rest of your life.  One second they were all there, the next second those five players were burned alive before your eyes, and they were gone.  Evaporated in a series of digital pixels.  You knew what that meant.  Game over.  

You didn’t even realize you were almost to the ground, you landed hard and rolled a few feet.  Your HP taking a significant hit as you skidded to a stop on a snowy ledge.  

The four of you had landed on a small clearing on the edge of one of the mountains you’d been flying over. Your breathing was quick and panicked.

 “Oh my god, oh my god” you shook, lying in a fetal position on the ground.  The other three players didn’t seem to be faring much better.  Jimin was laying flat on his back, glassy eyes staring straight up to the nothingness above you all.  Jin and RM were holding each other in a less that brave stance.  The fox fairy wide eyed and gasping through tears.  “We almost died Namjoon, we almost fucking died”

RM or Namjoon rather, glanced your way “Water fairy, fucking get over there and heal Jimin”

You slightly snapped out of your trance you’d been stuck in, realizing Jimin who was a few feet away from you was still unmoving.  You crawled toward him and saw on his screen his health bar was dangerously in the red.  You rapidly selected your strongest healing spell and put your hands on his chest.  His health bar slowly started to rise.  

Though you were furious at Namjoon for dragging you into all this, you couldn’t bear to watch anyone else die right before your eyes.  “Are either of you hurt?” You yelled out to them

“No, we are fine, Jimin fell hard is he okay?”

You nodded, “He’ll be okay” You said quietly.

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Namjoon directed you all into a small opening in the wall of the mountain.  It led to a large cave, with many tunnels and rooms it seemed. Namjoon lit a tall fire in the largest part of the cave and him and Jin sat down silently next to it.  Jimin shook his head and left into a short tunnel leading to a small room just off the main part of the cave.  Now safe from the cold and the dragon, you allowed yourself to finally feel the full impact of what had just happened to you.  

You were crying so hard you thought you’d never be able to catch a full breath again.  How could this be happening to you.  One moment you were safe in a warm room, next to Jungkook and now you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again.  Would you ever be able to feel the warmth of his body against yours once more before you died? Would you die horribly like that party you’d watch burned in the sky?

“Would you shut up?” Namjoon snapped at you

“ You’re freaking me out okay, we all saw what happened, pull yourself together”

You shot dagger eyes his way. “This is all your fault.” You ran at him and started beating your fists against his chest “I’d be safe if it wasn’t for you.”  He grabbed your wrists and held them tightly one in each of his hands.

“Stop it.” He stood up, now glaring down at you.  “I’m sorry okay” His face suddenly softening. “My brother almost died today.  You saved him, see this is why we need you”

“He wouldn’t have almost died if you weren’t greedy and leading us all towards a dragon!” You snapped harshly.

His face hardened again “I don’t think you understand how this game works.  You need to be strong to survive, you need to be smart to survive.  You need money, and points, and items that put you above the rest of the players.  We have ninety nine more floors to go if we want to make it out of this alive and I’m not going to just sit here and do nothing.  I want my brothers to make it out of this, I want to make it out of this.”

“I understand that. The man that I…” You stopped almost saying ‘The man that I like’ “the man that I was with has already explained that all to me.  But he would’ve never put our team in such a bad situation.  If you really cared about your brothers we wouldn’t be here” you spat angrily.  

“Fuck off” he scoffed, letting go of your wrists and pushing you away from him. “I know what I’m doing”

You huffed in frustration, not knowing what else to do, you ran to the room that Jimin was in.  As mad at him as you were, he was the only thing here that was somewhat familiar to you.  And as much as you hated him, the similarities that he had to your Velvet might be the only thing that could calm you down.  

When you arrived in the small cave room, you saw Jimin sitting crossed legged against the cave wall.  You slowly approached him, sliding your back down to sit next to him.

He turned you you, tears in his eyes.

 “I’m so sorry y/n.  I…” He buried his head in your shoulder. “You shouldn’t have saved me.  I’m not going to make it out of this alive anyways. None of us are.  This fucked up game…” He stopped, not being able to get out another word through his sobs.

You placed your hand on his head, petting him like you did the first day you met. “Don’t say that Jimin.” Though you couldn’t bring yourself to argue him.  You weren’t sure if you believed you would make it out of this alive either.  

“Y/n, I know you love Jungkook” he softly spoke, his voice still shaky.  

“W-wait, love? I’m not sure if it's quite…” you stuttered.

“I’m sorry we took you away from him.  But part of me isn’t. Because I love you” He lifted his head, tear flooded eyes meeting yours.  His lips quivering as he spoke.  

You didn’t know what to say.  Love was a strong word and you barely knew him.  

“I know you don’t love me back. But please” his hand gently reached and touched your cheek “Please give me just tonight to feel what it’s like to be loved by someone as beautiful as you.  I could die tomorrow never knowing what your lips feel like” he whispered and without warning he was hovering over you and pressing his lips against yours.  It was fast and desperate.  You could taste the lingering salt of tears that had fallen down onto his lips.  At first you were still, not sure if you should return his affections.  ‘Fuck it’ you thought ‘he's right, we could die tomorrow’

You pushed back into him, grabbing the back of his head bringing him further into a deep kiss.  He purred and put a hand behind your back, moving you so you were laying down on the cold cave floor, his lips still melded with yours.

 His kisses were different than Jungkook’s, more eager and quicker.  You felt him position himself with one leg between both of yours as he continued his hungry kisses.  His lips leaving yours and meeting your neck, then your shoulder, sucking and leaving marks. A soft  “Mmm” left his mouth, his breath warm on your shoulder.  You decided to let yourself fully get carried away in the moment.  

You grabbed his hips tightly and pulled them into yours so that you could feel his growing excitement pressed against you.  With a groan he started to excitedly grind against you. He pulled one of your legs up and with the other hand lifted the fabric of your dress up past your hips giving him better access to you.  

 You could feel his clothed length rubbing against you.  He moaned loudly, the feeling obviously was just as good for him and it was becoming for you.  He nuzzled his head into your neck and whispered “Can I take these off?” His fingers playing with the hem of the white panties that covered your now dripping core.  Without even thinking you nodded.  He purred again excitedly and moved so that he could remove the fabric covering the part of you that was aching for him.  Another soft “mmm” and he was back between your legs, sucking on your neck, grinding even harder against you.

You realize this is only the second time you’ve been this intimate with a man.  You’d had sex once at a college party that you had been dragged to, but it was less than enjoyable.  This with Jimin was amazing.  You felt like you could cum just like this, feeling him rub against you.  You wanted him to take off his pants and fully feel him.  You didn’t even know where these thoughts were coming from, you’d never thought of him this way before.  Maybe it was the adrenaline from what had just happened that was causing you to have these feelings but you weren’t going to question it too much, you were just going to be here in the moment.  

You wanted to let these thoughts and feelings drown out everything else that had been racing in your head.  The tingling that spread through your whole body as Jimin’s hips rolled into yours seemed to erase every bad thought that tried to push its way into your mind.  You never wanted it to stop.

You felt a soft moan leave your lips as one of his hands had snuck its way to your center.  “Wow” Jimin gasped “You’re so wet for me y/n, you’re really enjoying yourself huh?” he chuckled.  

Two fingers had found their way between your folds and started to slowly circle your clit.  Your hips bucked up into his, arching your back at the touch, pressing his hand closer in to your pussy as you did.  He moaned at your actions and increased his speed.  You felt your breath getting faster and more ragged as his magical fingers continued their quick pace.  

“J-Jimin” you gasped

“That's it baby” He breathed out quietly. “See how good I can make you feel?”

He planted a light kiss on your lips.  

Your body tightened and you could feel yourself approaching your high.  

“Jimin I-I’m gonna” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before waves of pure ecstasy were flowing through your body as you came.   

“Fuck yes baby” Jimin moaned, his fingers carrying you through your orgasm “Oh my god you are so beautiful like this, cumming so good for me baby” He peppered kisses all over your face.

Your quickened breathing finally slowed down and you realized what you’d just done.  You thought of Jungkook, the man you actually wanted, the man who should’ve been the one making you feel this way.  Guilt surged over you.  You and Jungkook had never said you were exclusive or anything, but you felt so dirty and wrong, like you’d betrayed him.  

“Oh my god, no Jimin, I shouldn’t have…” You started.

“Oh…” A familiar voice sounded out from the archway of the room.

 Your heart dropped into your stomach, why, why did you do this and why was he here...now, witnessing you in this position with Jimin.  You were full of shame and tears began to roll down your face as Jimin quickly pulled himself off of you.

Jungkook stood in the doorway of the small cave room.  “Found you…” He muttered.

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