#Mirror Week 2019

[redgoldsparks]

My very last comic for The Nib! End of an era! Transcription below the cut. instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

The first event I went to with GENDER QUEER was in NYC in 2019 at the Javits Center.

So many of the people who came to my signing were librarians, and so many of them said the same thing: "I know exactly who I want to give this to!" Maia: "Thank you for helping readers find my book!" While working on the book, I was genuinely unsure if anyone outside of my family and close friends would read it. But the early support of librarians and two American Library Association awards helped sell two print runs in first year.

Since then, GENDER QUEER been published in 8 languages, with more on the way: Spanish, Czech, Polish, French, Italian, Norwegian, Portugese and Dutch.

It has also been the most banned book in the United States for the past two years. The American Library Association has tracked an astronomical increase in book challenges over the past few years. Most of these challenges are to books with diverse characters and LGBTQ themes. These challenges are coming unevenly across the US, in a pattern that mirrors the legislative attacks on LGBTQ people. The Brooklyn Public Library offered free eCards to anyone in the US aged 13-21, in an effort to make banned books more available to young readers. A teacher in Norman, Oklahoma gave her students the QR code for the free eCard and lost her job. Summer Boismeir is now working for the Brooklyn Public Library. Hoopla and Libby/Overdrive, apps used to access digital library books, are now banned in Mississippi to anyone under 18. Some libraries won’t allow anyone under 18 to get any kind of library card without parental permission. When librarians in Jamestown, Michigan refused to remove GENDER QUEER and several other books, the citizens of the town voted down the library’s funding in the fall 2022 election. Without funding, the library is due to close in mid-2024. My first event since covid hit was the American Library Association conference in June 2022 in Washington, DC. Once again, the librarians in my signing line all had similar stories for me: “Your book was challenged in our district" "It was returned to the shelf!" "It was removed from the shelf..." "It was moved to the adult section."

Over and over I said: "Thank you. Thank you for working so hard to keep my book in your library. I’m sorry you had to defend it, but thank you for trying, even if it didn't work." We are at a crossroads of freedom of speech and censorship. The future of libraries, both publicly funded and in schools, are at stake. This is massively impacting the daily lives of librarians, teachers, students, booksellers, and authors around the country. In May 2023, I read an article from the Washington Post analyzing nearly 1000 of the book challenges from the 2021-2022 school year. I was literally on route to a festival to talk about book bans when I read a startling statistic. 60% of the 1000 book challenges were submitted by just 11 people. One man alone was responsible for 92 challenges. These 11 people seem to have made submitting copy-cat book challenges their full-time hobby and their opinions are having an outsized ripple effect across the nation. WE NEED TO MAKE THE VOICES SUPPORTING DIVERSE BOOKS AND OPPOSING BOOK BANS EVEN LOUDER. If you are able too, show up for your library and school board meetings when book challenges are debated. Send supportive comments and emails about the Pride book display and Drag Queen story hours. If you see a display you like– for Banned Book Week, AAPI Month, Black History Month, Disability Awareness Month, Jewish holidays, Trans Day of Remembrance– compliment a librarian! Make sure they feel the love stronger than the hate <3

Maia Kobabe, 2023

The Nib

#maia kobabe #banned books #library funding #comics #book challenges

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give.

> idol!jungkook x f!reader / angst, fluff, suggestive / wc: 8.3k

> warnings: mention of infidelity (no one did u can breathe ily), mention of a classmate slipping their number in oc’s pocket and oc feeling unsafe, mention of puking, mentions & allusion to s/x, alcohol consumption, making out, boob!e fondle, gr*nding kinda? jungkook is hard™️ they’re so in love it’s sickening

> in which masterlist!

playlist! and if/or when - ruel / hate everything - jungkook cover (gsoul) / hits different - taylor swift / statue - lil’ eddie / i wouldn’t ask you - clairo (i had to get in the zone & this is so oc-coded i need u to listen i’m so srs)

next: in which you don’t want to give up jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).

note: this was a journey. happened back in june 2019.!! i’m ripping off the bandaid <3 deep sigh writing this made me realize how my babies have come so far. hopefully will follow up with a fluffy fluff lowkey inspired by the underwear live soonest lols i’m excited for it 2 stay tuned 🫂 reblogs & feedback are much appreciated <3

—

you forgot the walls of the apartment building you’re living in are thin. a small portion of the white paint has been chipped off, it looks like a birth mark, you note — except it’s not, and you’re the one who caused the irregularity.

your favorite glass is scattered across the kitchen floor, reduced to shards and to sparkling pieces almost as miniscule as dust. you don’t know what came over you. you don’t know why you threw it at the wall instead of filling it with cold water to only drink three sips like you usually do.

just when you thought you’ve been faring well in holding yourself together today, a fresh wave of sorrow overwhelms you. your knees buckle as you begin weeping, the loudest you’ve been since this nightmare has started. it swallows the knocking sounds at your door, but it’s still not loud enough to quell jungkook’s quivering voice playing like a broken record on loop inside your head.

“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”

the rain is coming down fiercely and you’re freezing inside his car, parked outside your apartment. after all, his balenciaga windbreaker can only do so much against the blasted airconditioner. your throat is painfully dry, and your hands and face are numb from the piercing cold. but those are the least of your concerns because you feel like your head had just been dunked in ice water. the sting in your eyes are burning warmer as the seconds fly by and the muffled sounds of the torrential raindrops drum frantically in your ears. they’re clouding the car windows, mirroring jungkook’s tear-stained cheeks.

“i’m leaving again in three weeks. and i’m leaving again next year… and i’ll be gone again soon after that for a long time. i-i don’t know when i’m coming home, ___.” he pauses. the heel of palms press against his eyes, as if that could possibly barricade the saltwater leaking from them. “i never know where my life is taking me and you have your own… there’s too much-too much going on. i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”

“open the door! hello?! ___!”

“what do you want?!” you seeth in annoyance, swinging the door open to reveal your pesky neighbor.

he scratches the top of his head awkwardly at the sight of the mess that you greeted him with, having not bothered to pretend that you weren’t wailing your heart out.

”hey, i know you’re going through something…” his lips remain parted as he struggles to find the correct word, his right eye twitching voluntarily. “soul-crushing? right now. but i heard glass breaking and i was concerned that you, uhm, might’ve hurt yourself.”

the apparent nervousness and sincerity in his actions pull you out from the isolating disassociation you’ve imprisoned yourself in. you feel humiliated, presenting yourself in your most pitiful form infront of a kid two years younger than you. you envy him for having it together after storming out of his parents’ house while you-

“i’m not hurt. it was just an accident.”

you’re shamelessly lying infront of his face because the truth makes you feel too ashamed of yourself.

he only nods, smiling in relief. “i don’t know how to help make you feel better, so i just brought honey like i used to do before.”

you sigh, the familiar jar of honey and its red checkered lid waving at you like an old friend. has it been a year?

“bro, i told you i can’t accept this anymore.”

“you and your boyfriend already broke up. what’s the big deal?”

you have never wanted to smack someone more, the genuine confusion painted on his face feels like an infuriatingly harsh slap to yours.

“he wasn’t threatened by your honey, you dipshit. we just found out my blood sugar was getting a bit high!”

“oh- i’m so-”

you angrily slam the door shut. the silence you’re left with is suffocating, and you find yourself breaking down again.

he jumps in surprise when you open the door again, yelling- “and we’re not broken up!” before ripping away the jar of honey from his sweaty palms. he’s left completely flabbergasted, an inexplicable heaviness weighing on his chest when he hears your sniffling from the other side of the hard-wood.

“does that mean i can deliver again next week? i have too much in my kitchen…”

he doesn’t receive a snarky answer, surprisingly, so he continues talking.

“and f-y-i, your left cheek is bleeding! you might want to check on that!”

—

“you didn’t even give me any signs…”

you inhale a deep, shaky breath in a fragile attempt of keeping your composure. you want to scream, rip apart this thick tension with your bare hands, and force him to admit that this is just some kind of sick joke. you finally see him in person after months and all he has for you is a gift bag filled to the brim with heartbreak. this is too casually cruel, not something you would’ve expected from your jungkook.

“do you really mean that? or is there something else you’re not saying…? look at me.” you plead, weakly tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. the horrors of long-distance relationship stories claw their way out of your skin, adding fuel to the fire of your deepest fear. “you didn’t cheat on me, right? that can’t be it. we- we always-”

after you ended your last relationship, you cried at the parking lot of your university and continued living your life the next morning as if nothing happened at all. you did it all for yourself, anyway. he was gradually tearing down your confidence and your dignity; and you didn’t want to become a person the future you would despise for not being wiser, stronger.

and here you are at present day: spending the cozy sunday night solving chemistry problems on your desk. you have a blue bandaid plastered on your face and a cheek full of fruit and honey. and you would say you’re fine, but jungkook wasn’t here to sweetly dote on you while treating your wound. he isn’t here to taste the honey from your lips with that coquettish smirk of his. he isn’t laying on your bed, fighting to stay awake because he wants to fall asleep with you as his pillow.

no matter how hard you try to shut out this thought, it keeps knocking on the door. he’s going to be doing these sweet nothings for a different person when he finally reaches a more stable place in his life. you want to kneel on the ground, beg the heavens to meddle with destiny and never let you hear about it.

because that means he will never set foot in your apartment again, and the personal belongings you left in his room will be thrown out to erase the traces you left behind.

so this is how it begins.

the ugliest parts of you are swimming to the surface, tying themselves around your ankles because jungkook took away the ground from beneath your feet after unearthing your soul and… nothing makes sense to you anymore. if you wake up every morning to tend to your garden, and you look outside the window to learn that the sun has stopped burning, what do you have left?

your lips inevitably curve into a frown, but you inhale a sharp breath, patting your eyes dry before they can smudge the black ink on your notepad. and then you dip a strawberry in honey for the third time.

—

“no, baby, no- that’s not it.”

the dread and insecurity weaved into the cracks of your voice fill him with nausea and panic. he captures your frigid hand with haste, firmly holding it to his pounding chest.

“i would never do that to you. just the thought alone fucking disgusts me… you’re the only one. you’ve ruined me for everybody else.”

“then why are you giving up on me? am i becoming a burden?”

jungkook feels painfully numb, mind floating as the buildings outside the window get left behind him as a mere, passing blur.

“yah, jungkook-ah. are you crying?”

a torturous moment of silence passes as he struggles to find his voice. his tongue is tied, and his lost eyes are betraying the nights he spent practicing how to explain himself to you. back then, the reasoning he curated made sense. but faced with the consequences of his actions, the love of his life’s brain running a thousand miles per hour, recording a tale of woe and heartache on his passenger seat — he has never felt this much loathing for himself and his weaknesses.

you release a shaky breath, patting his rosy cheeks dry with your sleeves. you smile at him kindly, and he watches you in sheer disbelief. he can’t fathom the perpetual luck he’s been blessed with that he met, who he believes to be, the purest soul to grace this corrupted world. they’re damp with your tears, so it’s practically useless, but the sweet gesture is a stray beam of sunlight in the midst of the dull gray clouds.

the comforting rubs on his shoulder extracts him from his torturous thoughts, and only then does he feel the wetness on his face.

“you’ve been holding it back for the past week. just cry it out.”

he nods wordlessly, hiding himself in the fleece blanket from his lap. yoongi can feel a lump forming in his throat as he witnesses his youngest brother breaking down, jungkook’s pain also being his pain. as a group who’s been living together for the past decade, no one will be able to empathize with them as well each other. especially during times like this.

“___ hasn’t called?”

jungkook shakes his head wistfully, wiping away the tears that slid down his nose. he is dying to send you a text message, worried sick, and still used to hearing about your day the same way he is used to sleeping on his stomach.

“hyung,” the sound of the word borders on a sob. “it’s over. this is killing me… it’s all my fault.”

“but isn’t that what you wanted?”

“exactly. so why am i crying?” his hands ball into closed fists. “i’m an asshole.”

“enough of that!” yoongi loudly whines out his scolding. ”we all know you had your reason.”

“but, hyung, i fucked up!” he tenses up, blurting out the acknowledgement that’s been haunting him day and night. “she told me the most romantic thing and i felt so… fuck, i’m so angry at myself. i ruined everything. and i’m scared that i’d end up making things worse if i try fixing it.”

“stop beating yourself up. we can’t solve things this way.” yoongi grabs a bottle of water from the cupholder between them, twisting the cap open before handing it to jungkook. “drink first.”

once he starts drinking, he realizes that his throat has been awfully dry and sore. it’s most probably best for him to rest his voice. he can already foresee the concert rehearsal being absolute hell tomorrow. if he can’t sing, he doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to keep himself sane.

“talk to me. what did she say?”

“you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, do you know that?”

and with that revelation, he loses the warmth of your touch, and he comes crashing down like a wingless aircraft.

“i also need time to think about it. that’s only fair, right? that i get to decide, too…?” you swallow thickly, lips parting as if the words are resisting to come out of your mouth.

he looks at you with an emotion you can’t name, a push and pull between longing and trepidation.

if this was a movie, he would brave the rain and somehow perfectly deliver a poetically romantic speech that would sway your heart. if this was a movie, you would take a warm bath together, make out in the bathtub, and make love on your bed. if this was a movie, the day would end with the two of you tangled up, peacefully asleep and rhythmic breathing in sync. but he knows you. apparently not as well as he thought, but to some extent, he knows you. if he pulls you closer in the heat of the moment, you would feel suffocated and defensive and you would push him away; and he would lose you for good. that much he knows. so he lets you leave and he stays in the car— heartbroken, crestfallen, and regretful, because he might’ve just recklessly thrown away the best gift the universe has ever given him.

“i was thinking about how she never would’ve made this much sacrifices and efforts for anyone else and i feel like… i- it’s all going to waste because our future is uncertain. i can’t be committed to her as much as she is committed to me. and, and i felt like the guilt was eating away at me, you know? i wasn’t thinking straight.” jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a last ditch effort to prevent himself from sobbing. “it just… consumed me? like i was drowning… and all i could smell and taste was the saltwater.”

“i see,” yoongi sighs, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers infront of his stomach as he finds the right words to say. “that’s a normal response. our brain is a very complex friend… but you know, everything i’ve been through as myself and as a part of our team, hmmm, they taught me that there are times when a problem doesn’t necessarily need a solution per se. you just keep going until the fog clears up and then you move past it.”

fuck, jungkook needs a glass of whiskey. or two. or twelve. he listens intently despite seeming like he’s spacing out.

“this won’t last forever and time slips away from us without us even noticing. you should do what you want to do. if we’re going to deprive ourselves of good things, what will we have left after everything is over? money we can’t spend in one lifetime? there’s no happiness in that.”

yoongi frowns, wishing he could do more to alleviate the weight hanging on jungkook’s shoulders.

“you deserve love outside all the noise, too. focus on the present which you can still control and deal with the future when it arrives. if you do otherwise, you’ll just be tormenting yourself… and i know it’s easier said than done but! do you want to hear something i’ve had on my mind lately?”

with a flushed face and swollen eyes, he tilts his head to curiously spy on his hyung.

“what is it?”

“your motivation to work out after our shows is so you can stay awake and spend time with her. that’s why you fall asleep everywhere else. do you know how scary and endearing it is to watch that? is that what you call ‘not being committed enough’?”

yoongi fails to hide his gummy smile, body vibrating with silent laughter as pictures of jungkook falling asleep standing up flash before his eyes.

“seriously, you punk! you scare me! i just pass out and die straight after while you- really, you’re really unbelievable. i envy you. for being able to love with everything you have until they break your heart. i mean it!”

“but i’m the one who broke their heart this time.” jungkook somberly utters in defeat, bottom lip jutting out and chin quivering.

yoongi encouragingly pats his shoulder, shaking his body lightly. ”you can make it up to her. she’ll reach out before we leave. have some more patience.”

jungkook’s eyes turn into slits, suspiciously squinting at the man sitting beside him. “why do you sound so sure?”

“because she loves you. why else?”

—

you automatically pause from eating cup ramyeon when your phone lights up on top of the journals you’ve been reviewing for the past hour.

“ah, shit! shit!”

you abruptly cover your mouth with your hand, exhausted eyes watering because you accidentally bit your tongue after reading the name of the sender of your newest text notification. you take sips of cold water, peering at your phone as you do so. your hands itch to type out a response, but the screen dies and turns black, another of yoongi’s messages in the same pile of unanswered ones from your friends checking up on you tonight. you can’t talk to anyone right now; you need to get shit done.

after eating your dinner at the convenience store, you come home to a plastic of fried chicken hanging on the doorknob of your front door.

Eat lots and stay healthy! I’m feeding Jungkook well too. Don’t worry. — Yoongi

you peel off the blue handwritten note, sticking it on the cover of one of your books. you carefully carry the food using your free hand, and you can feel it radiating on your skin, the heat of a freshly-cooked meal. you were always worried of being a bother when you occasionally ask him how jungkook is doing on tour, but this made your heart significantly lighter. gaining a good friend after losing your lover, perhaps life can show a smidge of mercy when it wants to.

too bad you’ve always been one to be greedy.

—

“ah, seriously. why did you have to break up with ___?”

“we’ve been through this a million times!” jungkook exclaims in exasperation as he fiddles with the controller, bumping his knee with taehyung’s. “focus. you’re supposed to be helping me forget.”

“i don’t remember agreeing to that.” taehyung responds with a shrug, smirking when he picks up a booster and runs past his friend’s character. “you finally found someone who could put up with you and you let them go? i won’t let you forget.”

jungkook scoffs, eyes rolling upwards. “bro, i should be the least of your problems.”

“nuh-uh.” taehyung tuts with a grin, belly aching with laughter when jungkook’s car jumps over his to steal the lead. he didn’t even know that was possible. he plans on using the same trick against him later. “i’m making you my biggest problem so i don’t have to deal with mine.”

“they’re not married yet. you still have a chance, you know?”

“yah!” he gapes at jungkook in shock, entirely forgetting about the game. “take that back!”

“don’t act like you haven’t thought of it!”

“yeah, but i don’t say it out loud. it sounds too wrong! i still have my morals left!” he cries out, stomping his feet on the floor.

jungkook lightly punches his arm, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “i meant you have a chance if they break up. i have morals too! what do you think of me?!”

“oh…” taehyung blinks. “you know who else have probably thought of that too, though?”

“who?” jungkook boredly questions as he scrolls through the game collection, contemplating about which one to play next.

“all the other people waiting in line for ___.”

the realization renders him motionless, stirring up the possessiveness coursing through his veins. for the love of god, he doesn’t want to be petty but that struck a nerve. he wants to storm out of the house and look for you, beg on his knees for you to take him back.

“aish, hyung, you’re driving me crazy! why would you tell me that? are we torturing each other?!”

“are you crying? yah, jungkook-ah.” taehyung watches his hunched figure with a guilty wince, hesitant hands rubbing the expanse of his back. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry… do you want a hug?”

jungkook stays quiet, head hanging low to hide his face crumpling with anguish. the loose but affectionate hug that he gets pulled into prompts him to fall apart, catharsis blossoming in his ribcage and turning his bones into jelly.

he hears obnoxiously loud sniffles, and he abandons taehyung’s shoulder to look at his face. “are you crying, too?”

“stop ruining the moment.” taehyung groans, forcefully pushing down his head again.

namjoon comes out from his bedroom in search for another extension cord, still sipping on the half-empty iced americano he took from the fridge only ten minutes ago. the heartfelt scene on the couch causes him to halt on his tracks. how did they go from playing games to crying together? he silently observes the two members for a moment before deciding to approach them.

“what am i going to do with the two of you?” he grunts, ruffling his hair in frustration. “shall we go out for drinks to disinfect your wounded hearts?”

the mention of alcohol makes them perk up, jungkook’s tearful doe eyes sparkling at the prospect of temporarily erasing the pain that has uncontrollably spread throughout his system. he wants to drink until he forgets that he has hands, until he forgets what it feels like to touch you.

“thanks, monie-hyung. i’ll have my appetizer.”

and the iced americano gets snatched away from namjoon’s unsuspecting hand within the blink of an eye.

—

“this is not a barbecue restaurant.” you stare blankly at the orange neon lights spelling out the name of the night club your friends secretly conspired to bring you to.

“___, loosen up! the fastest way to move on is to find someone else. this is the best place for that.” aera turns around from the passenger seat of the taxi, her red lips painting a thrilled smile. “just forget about jungkook. we all knew this shit was going to happen. i’m surprised you even lasted that long!”

“i don’t know what you’re trying to imply but i don’t appreciate your tone.” you warn her with a sharp, threatening look. “and the ‘someone else’ that i found at a bar before turned out to be biggest fucking jerk i’ve ever met. i’m not doing this again.”

“things might be different this ti-” mi-ran aids in persuading you, but it only adds fuel to the fire.

“oh my god! fuck off!” you yell in irritation, aggressively getting off the car and slamming the door shut on their faces.

you never look back, ignoring the shouts of your name and half-assed apologies. you don’t have the slightest idea about where you’re going — your feet have a mind of their own and they chose to go the opposite way of home. this isn’t how you envisioned your night. you just wanted to listen to the sound of the meat grill and complain about life giving you a taste of true love just to cut your tongue with it until you bled. was that too much to ask?

you’re about ninety percent certain that you just lost two of whom you treated to be your closest friends. you think of ah-young, and you briefly consider crashing at your best friend’s band practice, but you’re too exhausted to travel to the other end of the city.

with eleven seconds left in the timer, you cross the street with swift and long strides alongside a crowd consisting mostly of employees wearing the same navy blue uniform. at last, you’re among the bright and lively restaurants, the inviting smell of good food making your stomach sting with hunger.

it’s only taehyung who recognizes you when you unknowingly pass by, almost choking on his glass of somaek, the combination of soju and beer. with his career on the line, he is confident that he can recognize that balenciaga windbreaker anywhere and anytime. meanwhile, instead of talking about you, the youngest is drunkenly reminiscing about the alleged ghost encounters he had in their old dorms. their leader is tragically left to tend to the grill alone. he deeply regrets not dragging any of the older members with them.

“everyone, i think i just saw __-”

a grimace of cluelessness is plastered on taehyung’s face when jungkook claps once, enthusiastically pointing at him as if he just announced something inspiring and life-changing.

“you’re right, you’re right! that’s it! what i’m kind of trying to say here is…” he pauses, facial muscles relaxing into a gloomy expression. he sniffles and rubs his nose, making it a brighter shade of red. “when we move houses again, i won’t have stories like these to bring with me. the new ghosts will be my memories with ___.”

none of the other two dares to speak after that, the oddly satisfying sound of meat being grilled and the chattering from other tables occupy the uneasy and heavy silence. instead, they begin filling their own shot glasses with pure soju. namjoon is the first one to spill it down his throat, slamming it on the table before dishing out his phone from his pocket. by this time, all of them are already drunk, double vision blurry and speech a little slurred. they gave up on counting the green bottles and cans of beer a long while ago.

“shit, that was a good metaphor. i need to write that down.”

“namjoon-hyung, he’s crying again!”

jungkook’s head slumps on the table with a thud, hot tears escaping down to his temple as he laments. “i miss her so much. why did i have to break up with her the second we got home? why…? am i so impulsive? what do i do if… if she agrees that we- h-how am i supposed to live with myself after that…? i’m never going to love again.”

they shuffle apprehensively on their seats, but still, they tell jungkook what he needs to hear since he won’t remember tonight’s events, anyway.

that’s not going happen. she just needs some more time. i’m sure she’s missing you too. everything will be okay.

but it’s been almost two weeks of radio silence. their flight is in nine days, drawing nearer and nearer as if it’s purposely taunting jungkook. everyone is thinking the same thing, and everyone is afraid to say it out loud.

—

it’s 7am when his work alarm goes off. with a disgruntled noise, a hungover jungkook drowsily drags himself out of bed, eyes still closed as he swings the bedroom door open.

“oing?” he creates a noise of confusion when his arm bumps against an object. he blinks at the brown paper bag hanging on his doorknob, removing one of the handles to peek at its contents.

he buffers for a moment, staring blankly at his belongings safely tucked inside. there’s his black mini bluetooth speaker, tinted lipbalm, wired earphones, bucket hat, facial cleanser, moisturizer, and shampoo. these are everything he left on top of your study desk and in your bathroom. neatly folded on the side is his windbreaker, which he recalls as clear as daylight, how you reveled in its comfort the last time that you were together. the fabric softener you use has replaced his perfume, the cherry scent forming a rain cloud of nostalgia and longing above his head.

if this is a nightmare, he is begging for somebody, anybody, to break into the room and to bring him someplace where hope is not desolate.

his wounded heart, as his namjoon-hyung described, is experiencing an excruciating pain he never even imagined was possible. he now understands, why the broken heart syndrome is a real thing.

he can’t read you. is this your way of ‘reaching out’? have you kicked him out of your house, out of your life? for good?

the dread of losing you forever is gnawing at his insides. nausea almost succeeds in knocking him off his feet. his brain hisses with static. he panics at the disgustingly familiar sensation brewing in his digestive system, sprinting to the bathroom to spill out his guts.

they say that you don’t realize what you have until you lose it. that early morning, jungkook realizes that he’s only a human being after all.

—

“when did i put that there?”

you’re sorting out your dirty laundry after showering when you notice a tissue paper tucked in the front pocket of your denim jeans. you huff out a sigh, ripping it apart into tiny pieces over the trash bin with raging vexation. you will never understand how men thinks that these kind of stupid tricks are supposed to compel you into seeing them anywhere near attractive and desirable in your eyes. if anything, they make you feel unsafe and if your paths cross again, you will run the other way. great. another person in the lecture room to avoid. just fucking great.

at this point, you want to mockingly laugh at your own misery. just when you thought your day couldn’t possibly get worse, it fucking does.

you tuck yourself in bed by midnight, texting a friend about your joint presentation next week, and then rereading your conversation with namjoon from this morning for the nth time. you’ve been hoping it will shine light on the right path to take, because you’re still lost and hurt.

Namjoon:

he’s been devastated since

can’t this be sorted out?

stuff’s just been overwhelming and honestly i’m as anxious as him

i'm not trying to force you into getting back together with him ofc but please talk for closure atleast..

you’re also my friend. i think you need it too..

you scroll a bit further down afterwards, and your heart drops to your stomach when you see the three dots under the contact name ‘my jungkook’. you click on it as it beckons you to, only to allow time to flow like a river with no sea to kiss, idly watching the bubble appear and disappear, appear and disappear. almost everyday, you catch a glimpse of him at the very least, typing a message and never sending it.

the same goes for tonight, it seems.

his silence is torturing you. in the car, in your inbox, in your call history. a person knocks on the door and a part of you foolishly predicts that it’s jungkook not using his copy of the key out of respect.

you succumb to the yearning, heading to your shared media and files that you’ve been actively resisting for the past three weeks… for this exact reason.

you randomly click a video sent by jungkook three months ago.

“i know you’re in class but i’m too excited to show what i got you today!” he beams at the front camera, bunny teeth cutely showing. he picks up the first item from the hotel bed with his free hand. “you already own this book but this one got a different cover, see? it’s hardback? they say it’s a limited edition.”

he eyes it fleetingly, obvious that there is something else he is dying to mention.

“i won’t show it too close. you can look at it when i go home. there’s a little surprise inside.”

he scrunches his nose before teasingly sticking his tongue out.

“and then here we haaave-”

following that, he shows you an adorable fluffy white bunny with red eyes. it occupies more than half the screen, and without a doubt, it is soft and huggable.

“cooky’s new sibling! we found it at a gift shop and hobi-hyung said it looks like me.”

he presses his cheek to the bunny’s. “i accept. we do look alike, but my eyes are so much bigger.”

in the upcoming seconds, the video is muted except for his breathing. he plops down on the bed while ruffling his dark hair, staring at the camera wordlessly, evocative of when you catch him dreamily watching you study while you’re on a videocall.

“i miss you.” he smiles sadly, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way home.”

he drops on his back, the firm mattress breaking his fall.

“mmmwah!“ he kisses the camera, and your screen freezes on the final frame.

the silence in the aftermath is defeaning. you tear your glasses off your face, burying your face in the pillows. you arrive at your final decision then and there. you don’t care. you don’t care. you don’t care anymore. you cannot bear to spend more of your days like this. his things that used to live here might be gone, but you look for him everywhere. you look for his car in the parking lot. you look for his hair when you see flowers. you wait for his name to be called in the coffee shop. on your way home, you linger at the playground where you used to usually meet.

because if your relationship with jungkook is truly doomed to fail, you want to watch its foundation collapse on the ground, burnt down to gray and black ashes that disintegrate when you try to grasp them in your hands… with good grace, it’s the only way for you to believe that there’s no more home to come home to.

with a trembling hand, you press the call button and for the very first time, you beg someone to stay.

—

jungkook’s breathing ceases, heartbeat violently racing in his chest. the ‘chimes’ ringtone tickle his ears, his phone vibrating incessantly in his hands. the two features he specifically customized in your contact settings so he will immediately recognize that it’s you who’s calling.

it’s been four days since you dropped off his things. and here he was, laying on his bed and struggling to find the right words to say because he refuses to believe that this is how it ends. the paper bag is still hanging on the doorknob. he hasn’t touched it since the first time. he doesn’t have the courage to do so.

fuck giving you space. he wants drown himself in you and never come up for air. he’s more than willing to suffer your anger or your coldness. he’s prepared to prove himself worthy of a second chance every second of every day. he wants to occupy half of your desk and half of your closet again. he selfishly wishes to be the first and the last person you fall in love with.

but until the very end, you’re the braver one.

“love?” your voice is quiet, barely audible, but it’s there, and he hears the affectionate term of endearment distinctly. “i’m sorry. i tried, i really did, but i couldn’t do it…”

“baby,” he falters breathlessly, half of him in disbelief, convinced that he has officially lost his goddamn mind and delusion is bleeding into reality.

“i tried living without you like you wanted- but i can’t-” you hiccup in between small sobs on the other line. “i love you, jungkook. i can’t live carrying around all this love with me. it’s too heavy…”

exploding and breaking apart, jungkook’s heart is a meteor that has entered the planet’s atmosphere, and he doesn’t know where to begin digging for the fragments so he can piece himself together again.

“we are too young and we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing and i love you too much. you don’t have to protect me… i’ll take my fair share of the responsibility, so just-” he hangs on your every word, and then you pause, your following words eliciting a powerful punch to his gut. “just let me love you and let me learn my lesson the hard way… let’s do that, okay?”

the walls of him room ebbs and flows in like the sea. he rests his forearm over his eyes, his skin gradually dampening with tears. he once promised himself that he would never put you in this position. he should be the one begging for forgiveness, repenting and crawling on his knees. but rather than wasting his time with surfing through another tsunami of self-blame, he reminds himself: i want to be a better man.

“okay, baby. let’s do that, hmm? let’s do that. it’s what i want too.” he coos softly with a hoarse voice. “are you at your apartment?”

you hum in confirmation, sniffling. “come home.”

—

a half-naked jungkook abruptly opens the door to yoongi’s room, wearing gray sweatpants with his left arm awkwardly inserted in one of the black t-shirt’s armhole.

“hyung! can i borrow your car? mine’s getting a check-up.”

yoongi tears his eyes away from the computer, hanging the black headphones on the nape of his neck. he merely shrugs before throwing the car key, and jungkook catches it in one hand with ease.

he sighs in relief, politely bowing his upper body to express his gratitude. “thank you, hyung.”

“what are you doing?!” yoongi half-smiles with fondness, jokingly waving him off. “just go- go. leave!”

—

jungkook nervously stands before your front door, head woozy with anticipation and fear. what if things have changed? what if your relationship never goes back to the way it was?

“oh. you’re back together?”

he whips his head back to find your neighbor arriving home from his part-time job. huh, he just realized that he has never really learned what his name is. the only information he has on him is that his sister owns a bee farm.

“how did you even know?” he asks with knitted eyebrows. “you haven’t been giving out honey again, have you?”

“she only accepted it once.” the stranger puts his arms up in surrender with a roll of his eyes. “and don’t make her cry again, will you? she blasts sad songs late at night.”

and with an unpleasantly forceful shut of the door, jungkook is left alone in the hallway. his jaw clenches as he glares at the next apartment, but he rubs his face to release his frustration before he goes to meet you.

“we need to move in together.” he grumbles to himself as he enters your unit, relocking the door behind him. he removes his sneakers, neatly setting them down beside your pairs of shoes by the doormat.

he pads on the wooden floor with his white toe socks, looking around the dark and quiet living room. a faint orange light is seeping under the gap between the floor and the bedroom door, which he recognizes to be your favorite mode on your multi-colored nightstand lamp. he cautiously cracks the door open, and he is instantly greeted by your curled up figure, peacefully sleeping.

it’s muscle memory when he hangs his backpack on the backrest of your study chair before anything else. he also brought the paper bag you sent, putting it down on the floor.

he squats down infront of you, lightly prying away the phone you’re hugging to your chest and placing the device on the bedside table. the light is shining over your skin, and there are a thousand of photos and videos organized into the most treasured folder in his gallery, but not a single one of them will ever do you justice.

god, he missed you so much. it hasn’t been two years, but the life he had before he met you feels like an extremely distant memory.

he sighs, talking in hopes that he appears in your dreams. “how do you do this? you make it impossible not to love you.”

he unconsciously frowns at the sight of your puffy eyes. never again. never again. never again. he chants inside his head. he plants a kiss on each of your eyelids, taking his time to bask in the feeling of your weight under his lips.

he climbs on the opposite side of the bed, tucking you underneath the blanket before securely holding you from behind with his thigh hanging over yours. the warmth of your body and the scent of your shampoo cures the headache that’s been bothering him the whole day. he drifts off to sleep soon after.

—

the feather-light brushes through the silky locks of his hair pulls him out of his slumber half an hour later. he can make out your silhouette through his half-open eyes, the little-mermaid-like scene feels too vivid for a dream.

“why didn’t you wake me up?” you whine, sulking with a pout.

“i’m sorry.” he answers quietly, sitting up to engulf you in a tight embrace as endless apologies tumble from his tongue. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i gave up. i’m sorry that i hurt you. i’m so sorry… are you angry at me?”

“i’m upset.” you admit after a few beats, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it. “it hurts when i remember you saying that. and i understand you but… but i don’t like that you decided alone for us. if you do that again… then it will be over between us.”

he has an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand firmly holding the back of your head. it’s a little hard to breathe, but it’s so reassuring to feel that he doesn’t want to let you out of his embrace. because you hated it — hated how it felt like letting you go was so easy.

“i regret everything. i’m sorry.” he whispers, concealing his tears by nuzzling his face on your neck. “and you’re not a burden. that’s not true.”

he knows that you mean your every word, so he lifts up his head to gaze directly into your eyes, showing that he is as sincere and true to his.

“from now on, all i’ll think about is what i can do to make you happy and safe without compromising our relationship… i’ll do better. i’ll love you better. i promise that i’ll be stronger for us. i won’t make the same mistake twice.”

you wish jungkook could be kinder to himself, treat himself with the same gentleness that comes so naturally with you. why is it that humans find loving themselves so laborious? why does being have to come with such a curse?

taking glimpses at the past, you should’ve been reminding him of these affirmations everyday.

“you don’t have to be strong all the time. i’m not asking for that.” you shake your head, voicing out yourself in a tone so soothing and illuminating. “i don’t want to go anywhere far away from you so think of yourself, too. i told you before, it’s okay to hold on to me. i’m also strong.”

jungkook feels so safe at home. he doesn’t remember what he was so worried of anymore.

“and you know what? if you really see it that way, then i’m telling you now. i want to waste my time on you. you can’t stop me.” your threatening eyes widen in conviction, provoking a sheepish smile to tug at the corners of his lips. “i always get what i want.”

“and you want me?” he innocently points at himself.

“love you.”

“i love you.” he replies, nosing at your neck before leaving a chaste kiss on your skin. “so much.”

“then put yourself in my shoes.” you hum, combing his hair with your fingers, lightly tugging to initiate eye-contact. “i want to take care of you just like how you want to take care of me. i think we have something rare and beautiful…” you pause, self-conscious about coming across as too needy now that you’re face-to-face, but an epiphany shatters your apprehension with a bow and an arrow.

this is what he needed to hear from you that day.

“so stay with me.”

jungkook’s vision becomes unfocused. he’s speechless; the only sound in the room is the humming of the airconditioner, but it’s almost as if you can hear the gears of his brain working their hardest. the pain that glossed his enchanting doe eyes has been replaced with a devotion you’ve never seen expressed so passionately in them before.

“all the time i own is yours.” he declares, cupping your face, the pad of his thumb daintily stroking your cheek. “all of it. we can do anything you want to do. let me make it up to you.”

“anything?” your face lights up with joy and mischief, and the butterflies in jungkook’s stomach come alive. he wants to make it his life’s mission to make you smile everyday; and that, he will do. “then i want you to kiss me.”

the sultriness of your enticing voice makes him go haywire. it’s been too damn long. he has forgotten what it feels like to kiss you. he slowly inches closer, his lips brushing against your lips before he pulls you in deeper, a fervent display of his yearning and apologies. he swallows the needy moan that escapes you as he slowly lays you down on the mattress, stripping off his shirt and mindlessly tossing it somewhere when you impatiently tug at it with another whimper. you cage his face in your hands, bringing back his lips on yours as if he’s the air that you breathe.

he wants to grieve for all the wasted time because everyday, he craved for this. to be honest, he forgets his name when he’s kissing you. outside, the crowds scream his name for being the best at what he does best, and he happily lives for the euphoria of it all. but in this room, there is only you and him. you communicate using the unspoken language of love with your lips. you bare the soft animal in yourselves with your teeth sinking in the other’s skin. you allow your rawest desires and truths to unravel with a slip of the tongue. he exists beyond his name, becomes an indecipherable enigma even to himself. what is the use of an explanation if there is no meaning anyway? all he knows is that he loves you despite all the reasons, against all the reasons.

he sneaks under your shirt, fingertips teasingly exploring your skin as if he’s drawing a map. he feels you quiver when he finally reaches your chest, gently kneading the soft flesh in his palm. this makes you mewl in pleasure, arching your back as your hand unconsciously curls around his wrist, the cotton fabric separating the two of you. the action electrifies jungkook, makes him lose himself a little more, which he didn’t think was still possible.

“touch me, please- jungkook. need you-” you choke out a desperate whimper, nearly sobbing as you guide his hand between your thighs. you can’t bear to spend another second untouched; the last time you made love feels like an eternity ago. he slips past the waistband of your underwear, the only article of clothing you’re wearing below. but to your disappointment, he gently caresses your hip bone instead of dipping his long fingers into your wetness.

“shh, hold on, baby-” he forces himself to break away from the kiss, swollen and red lips glistening with spit. “baby, look at me. you didn’t drink, right? i don’t want to take advantage.”

you gape at him with your chest heaving up and down, dumbfounded. “how could you even think of that right now?”

his eyes widen in panic, worried that he might’ve offended you. “no, no, no-” his palms skim your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his slim waist. you gasp when he presses up on you and his hard length rubs on your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. a gush of arousal dampens the thin material covering your center.

“i want you so fucking bad that it hurts.” he gingerly wipes away the tears that you didn’t even notice streamed down to your temples. you can’t remember the last time you cried before today, they must’ve gotten tired of asking for your permission. “but you were crying when you called, baby. i had to make sure.”

“oh, my boyfriend is such a gentleman.” you muse dreamily. pepper his face with delicate kisses, lips curving upward with an adoring smile. “look at him enjoying my kisses.”

you playfully squeeze his cheeks together, making his pillowy lips pucker.

“you really wanted to break up with me in this case, huh? you wanted to live without me and my kisses? no way.”

his eyelids flutter open, and he shakes his head as he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…” his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh. “going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

“good. you better.” your high-pitched giggles bounce off the walls as his lips trail down to your neck, licking a bold stripe over your ticklish spots. “i don’t have the patience for it, but i’ll be your trusty assistant.”

it’s ridiculous, how even the sound of your laughter turns him on even more.

—

jungkook learned that you finished your exams yesterday, having spent majority of the past two weeks pulling all-nighters to prepare for them. you seem to be confident about the results, the way you talked about it without concern. he never once doubted that you’re resolute and persevering, but acing your exams in the middle of a breakup is beyond what he can digest. it must’ve been a grueling experience, he can only imagine.

he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then your lips, before dragging the blanket higher over your naked figure, a thicker one he brought out from the cabinet. poor thing, you fell asleep on his lap while he was drying your hair, incoherently murmuring about how tired you are.

he walks to your study space, fixing the loosening towel wrapped around his waist. one by one, he pulls out the items from the paper bag, returning them to their old places on your desk. he toothily grins at the windbreaker, ecstatic due to his plan on wearing it at work today. he wants to give it back to you smelling like him again.

an index card lands on the ground when he unfolds it, making him peer down in curiosity.

“what’s this?” he mumbles, bending down to pick it up.

jumbled thoughts. a letter shoved at the back of the mailbox. a hesitant confession. a bittersweet reminder that says: a wound does not magically disappear overnight. it requires the proper treatment to heal correctly, and even then, it might still leave a scar.

These are only a few of many. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? I’m usually the more logical one. Was it really so bad that we weren’t going anywhere?

and messily crossed out at the end,

I miss you.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Harry and yn and there two kids on holiday and fans come up to them and harry asks them to respect there privacy and all that?

Caribbean Privacy.

my masterlist || ask my anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - first blurb of 2024 people and it’s based on the brand new photos we got, so enjoy my loves.

word count - 1.7k

in which, you and harry decided to go for a little family holiday to start the new year off on the right foot, and went to a caribbean island, where your just trying to enjoy yourselves, and spend some quality time with your two children, when a couple of fans spot your husband.

As the first light of the new year streamed through the curtains, you woke up to the sweet realization that your partner had planned a surprise holiday to the Caribbean.

The joy in your heart was mirrored in the excited expressions of Kai, your energetic five-year-old, and little Lexi, who had just turned six months old. The promise of sun-soaked beaches and turquoise waters made the early morning hustle of packing bags and herding the family to the airport an adventure in itself.

Arriving at your tropical destination, the sound of gentle waves and the warmth of the sun embraced you. The resort's palm-fringed surroundings set the stage for a family retreat filled with laughter and cherished moments.

The holiday would be lasting a total of two weeks and so far the four of you had been there for four out of a possible fourteen.

The first day was spent chilling and getting the kids into a routine, the second day was filled with sunbathing and the third day you took the kids to do some activities so that they wouldn’t get too bored.

It was the afternoon of the fourth day at the resort, for a majority of the morning you had all gone for a walk, trying to get your bearings of where you were going to be staying.

It was nearing one pm now, and the four of you were making your way to the hotel outdoor restaurant, where other families, friends and couples were currently sat, all decked out in summer clothes just like you and your family were.

The rhythmic roll of the stroller, carrying the enchanting Lexi, created a soothing background to the lively atmosphere. Harry, with Kai perched on his shoulders, exuded paternal pride as his son's tiny fingers playfully explored the newly sprouting hair after a recent buzz cut.

The infectious giggles from Kai echoed through the space, forming a symphony of joy that seemed to harmonize with the clinking of cutlery and murmurs of other guests.

Just moments later, a courteous waiter approached, exuding the charm of the Caribbean hospitality.

"Good afternoon! Can I start you off with some drinks?" he inquired with a warm smile.

Harry, with a chuckle, ordered a beer for himself, emphasising that it was a well-deserved vacation treat.

Kai, his eyes sparkling, announced proudly, "Chocolate milkshake, please!"

You joined in, opting for a refreshing mojito to complement the tropical ambiance. The waiter, noting down the orders, promised to return shortly with the concoctions that would add an extra layer of delight to your family gathering.

The backdrop of the restaurant's tropical charm provided the perfect setting for a moment of connection.

"This surprise vacation was a brilliant idea," you remarked, a smile playing on your lips.

Harry, his eyes filled with satisfaction, responded, "M’figured we all needed a break, and what better way t’start the year?"

Kai, still perched atop his father's shoulders, chimed in, "I like the beach, Mommy! Can we build a sandcastle tomorrow?"

His enthusiasm was infectious, prompting laughter from both you and Harry.

"Absolutely, buddy! We'll build the biggest sandcastle the beach ‘as ever seen," Harry promised, ruffling Kai's hair.

November 2019, you gave birth to Kai Robin Styles, at a home birth in yours and Harry’s London home.

As the conversation continued, you found yourselves reflecting on the year that had passed and the excitement of what lay ahead.

“ ‘Member when Lex was just a tiny bump?" Harry mused, glancing affectionately at your baby girl. "Now look at her, enjoying her first vacation. Time really does fly,"

You had gone into Labour with Lexi Anne Styles after Harry’s Show in Warsaw, the birth wasn’t very traumatic but the fact that you have birth in the backstage area of a stadium add a million different stress levels.

The waiter returned with a tray of drinks, delivering a frothy beer for Harry, a velvety chocolate milkshake for Kai, and a refreshing mojito for yourself.

The clinking of glasses marked the beginning of a shared toast.

"To family adventures and new beginnings," Harry proposed, raising his beer.

It wasn’t long before you had placed your food orders, and then it was back to chit chatting.

Lexi began to express her hunger with soft whimpers from the comfort of her stroller. Harry, always attuned to his children's needs, suggested, "Looks like someone's ready f’a meal. How about I feed her?"

Agreeing with a smile, you watched affectionately as Harry gently lifted Lexi from the stroller. With practised ease, he retrieved the pre-made bottle from the baby bag. Cradling Lexi in his arms, he began a tender dialogue, showering her with words of endearment.

"Y’know, Love bug, y’the most perfect baby in the world. Mom and I are so lucky t’have you," he whispered, his words infused with a genuine warmth that mirrored the love you both felt for your little one.

As Harry spoke to Lexi, your gaze shifted to Kai, who was deeply immersed in coloring his book. His tiny fingers danced across the paper, creating vibrant strokes that mirrored the lively atmosphere of the Caribbean surroundings. The restaurant transformed into a canvas of family moments — the quiet focus of an older brother, the nurturing presence of a father, and the unspoken connection between mother and daughter.

Amidst the lively ambiance of the restaurant, you couldn't help but notice a group of girls at a nearby table who seemed to have recognized your husband. Whispers and excited glances were exchanged among them, and you could see them mustering the courage to approach him for a photo.

Sensing their intentions, you leaned in to Harry and discreetly warned him about the approaching fangirls.

Harry, with a resigned sigh, glanced over his shoulder and nodded.

"Just ignore ‘em, love. It happens," he reassured you, his eyes reflecting the weariness of a man accustomed to such encounters.

The prospect of being in the spotlight, even during a family dinner, was not a new experience for him. Grateful that your kids were facing away, oblivious to the attention, you both focused on enjoying the moment together as a family.

As the girls behind you worked up the courage to approach, you and Harry engaged in casual conversation, attempting to divert attention from the brewing fan encounter.

"Remember that time in Paris?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Harry chuckled, because he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Good times," he agreed, sharing a smile with you, appreciating the effort to shield your family from the attention that occasionally came with his public persona.

“H, there definitely coming.”

Harry, glancing over his shoulder, nodded in acknowledgment.

"Yeah, I see them. Just give them a friendly smile if they approach, and I'll handle it. S’not let it bother us," he suggested, his voice carrying a hint of resignation.

He was no stranger to such encounters, having navigated the challenges of fame before. The weariness in his eyes reflected a desire for a quiet family dinner undisturbed by fan interactions.

The restaurant buzzed with activity as the group of excited fans approached your table.

"Harry, we're such huge fans! Can we get a quick photo and an autograph?" one of them eagerly requested, holding out a notepad and a pen.

With a gracious smile, Harry acknowledged their enthusiasm.

"M’grateful f’your support, but at the moment, we're trying to have a quiet family dinner, so I won't be able to do autographs right now," he gently explained, a polite refusal delivered with a sense of understanding.

Despite his explanation, the fans persisted, urging for both a photo and an autograph. The atmosphere at the table shifted as Lexi, nestled in Harry's lap, started to express her unease with a few whimpers.

Sensing his sister's discomfort, Kai moved closer to your side, seeking comfort in the familiar presence of family. Harry, noticing the subtle disruption, addressed the fans with empathy.

The fans, eager to capture a moment with their idol, continued to press for both a photo and an autograph. Harry, maintaining his composure, gently reiterated, "I really appreciate y’support, but right now, We're just trying t’enjoy a family dinner without any interruptions."

The fans, realizing the impact on the children, paused for a moment. Harry, sensing the need to reinforce the boundary, continued,

"Thanks for understanding." His words were delivered with a blend of gratitude and a protective instinct for his family.

As the fans reluctantly stepped back, a mix of disappointment and understanding painted their expressions. Your family returned to the rhythm of your evening, attempting to reclaim the sense of tranquillity that had been momentarily disrupted. Lexi, still cradled in Harry's arms, gradually settled, comforted by the familiar presence of her parents and brother.

Harry, with a reassuring smile, turned his attention back to the dinner table.

"Sorry about that, m’love," he whispered to you, the gentle apology carrying the weight of the delicate balancing act that came with his fame.

"It's alright," you responded, understanding the complexities of navigating public and private moments.

Kai, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, looked up from his colouring book with a curious expression.

"Why did those people want pictures, Mommy?" he asked, his innocent curiosity breaking the momentary tension.

You looked down to his eye level, offering a simple yet honest explanation, "Sometimes, people recognize Daddy from his work, and they want to say hello or take a picture because they really like what he does."

Harry, appreciating your delicate handling of the situation, chimed in,

"That's right, buddy. Daddy's work makes people happy, and sometimes they just want to share that happiness with us."

Sensing his sons discomfort, Harry gently ushered him over, placing him on the other side of his lap.

"Hey, Kai, come here, sweet boy," Harry said softly, creating a protective space for him. As Kai nestled in closer,

Harry continued, "I want you t’know that no matter what happens, Daddy will always keep you safe. Those moments might be a bit strange, but we're a team, okay?"

Kai, his big brown eyes searching for reassurance, nodded in understanding. "

Team," he echoed, a small smile breaking through the remnants of unease.

Harry wrapped his arm around Kai, holding him close to his chest.

"Exactly, little man. We're a team, and nothing will ever change that," Harry affirmed, his voice a soothing melody of love and comfort.

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry’s house #harrystylesxyn #dad!harry #anon <3 #dadrry

[derangedangel]

Killer Duo - Isaac Lahey

Summary: Lydia’s throwing a Halloween party and your costume coordinates with Isaac’s

Isaac Lahey x Reader

Word Count: 1,591

Author’s Note: Apparently this was in my drafts in 2019 and I finished it in 2020. Why it never got posted, I’m not sure. The timing of this is funny cause I’m currently at work dressed as the character Isaac is dressed as. Anyway, reblogs and comments are appreciated. Happy Halloween!

“Lydia, I haven’t dressed up for Halloween since I was 12,” you said walking around looking at all the creepy Halloween decorations.

“And this is a costume party. You have to dress up or you can’t go,” Lydia replied walking in front of you heading straight for the costumes. 

“I have no idea what I should be. And most Halloween costumes for women are sexy now, which really means they’re short and inappropriate, and I am not doing that.”

The strawberry blonde rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even looked at any costumes yet and your already jumping to conclusions.”

“I’m just pointing out facts. Halloween used to be fun, then I grew up.”

“And now you’re at the age where you can dress up again,” Lydia smiled at you. “There’s just no candy this time.”

“So what’s the point,” you joked.

“Just come on,” Lydia said grabbing your arm pulling you towards the superhero costumes first. 

The two of you began to look through the racks of clothes. You ran a mental checklist of everything that wouldn��t work for you. 

Batgirl? No.

Iron Man? No.

Elastigirl? Hell no.

“Oh, what about Wonder Woman,” Lydia asked holding up the iconic armor for you to see. 

“Ehh,” you said fidgeting on your feet, “I don’t feel comfortable having my ass out.”

“Okay,” Lydia said sighing at how difficult you were making this. She stood next to you scanning the the other costumes in the superhero section and decided you were going to like any of them.

“What about a witch,” she asked.

“I guess I could be that,” you replied halfheartedly.

“No, I don’t want you buying something you don’t love. That’s the number one rule in fashion.”

“Lydia, why don’t you just look for your costume and I’ll find mines. I don’t want you to keep pulling outfits and I hate them all.”

Lydia turned and faced you. “Honey, I bought my costume weeks ago. No one is going to be wearing the same thing as me at my own party.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Duh, I should have known you already had your costume ready to go.”

“Yes, so this trip is all about you, my dear,” Lydia said tapping you on the nose making you smile. 

“Fine,” you replied. “Well, let’s go look at something a little more spookier then.”

_____________

“Barbie, eat your heart out.”

Lydia walked up behind you in the mirror and nodded. “You look good.”

“I look killer,” you laughed and Lydia smiled shaking her head. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror admiring your white dress, leather jacket, and combat boots. You grabbed your eyeliner pencil and added the final touch. Tiffany’s mole. 

Perfect.

As soon as you saw the Bride of Chucky costume, you knew you needed it. Lydia was just happy you didn’t go with Chucky so you didn’t mess up her bathroom adding all the wounds and fake blood on your face. 

About an hour later, the party was well under way and you already made your first rounds with Lydia. Now she off doing other hostess duties and you were people watching against the wall.

You saw Isaac across the room and smiled to yourself. You excused yourself through the crowd as you made your way across the room.

“Hey, Isaac. Nice costume,” you greeted, looking up at the tall burette in front of you. Well, he wasn’t brunette right now. He was wearing a red wig and a pair of Good Guys overalls. You snickered to yourself. Of course the guy you had a crush on would be dressed up as Chucky. He was basically the salt to your pepper.

“Thanks,” Isaac said, a grin lining his face. “And you are a... biker bride?”

You looked at Isaac confused and shocked. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“What,” Isaac smiled confused at your response. “Should I know who you are?”

“Yes,” you said laughing. You gawked at him as you held up your plastic bloody knife and pointed to your “Tiff” necklace. His eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

“I’m Tiffany...”

Isaac shook his head still lost.

“The Bride of Chucky...”

“Sorry. Still don’t know who that is.”

“Oh my God. Isaac, how are you dressed up as Chucky but don’t know who Tiffany is?”

Isaac shrugged. “Honestly, I wasn’t planning on wearing a costume, but Lydia said I had to, then showed up to Scott’s house with this.”

You shook your head, laughing to yourself. “Of course she did.”

“Am I missing something,” Isaac asked wanting in on the joke.

“Lydia knew I was dressing up as Tiffany and she made you be Chucky... we’re basically a couple’s costume.”

“We are,” Isaac asked, his eyebrow raised and smirk slowly growing on his face.

“Uhh, I- I mean sorta,” you replied fidgeting where you stood. “Especially, now when we’re standing next to each other.”

Isaac took a step closer to you. “So I guess I better keep you close then.”

You’re eyes grew big but before you could response you were interrupted. 

“There you two are,” Lydia said walking up to you and Isaac. Her blonde ponytail wig bouncing with each step she took. She definitely was the only I Dream of Jeannie here. You doubted if most of the party even knew who she was, but they all knew she looked good. “Well don’t you look cozy together.”

“Lydia,” you said a little too sweetly for anyone’s liking. “I hear we have you to thank for Isaac’s costume.”

“What,” Lydia asked like she didn’t basically have you and Isaac in a couple’s costume. “I couldn’t have him come to my Halloween party not dressed up.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed crossing your arms over your chest.

“Anyway, everyone’s outside so we can take a group pic before anyone is too intoxicated to do it later.” 

“Lydia,” Stiles yelped running up. “Oh, hey guys,” he said waving to you and Isaac. You smiled and waved back before he began talking to Lydia. He was dressed up as Captain Tony Nelson, the perfect couple’s costume to Lydia’s Jeannie. “Um, so, I may or may not have gotten my Captain’s hat stuck on the roof... okay I definitely did. But it was Scott’s fault!”

“Seriously, Stiles,” Lydia fumed. “God,” she whispered under her breath shaking her head before turning to you. “Give it about ten minutes before the picture so I can get his hat down.” 

You laughed nodding your head. “Okay.”

The couple walked away, leaving you alone with Isaac. “Um, I’m going to go get something to drink. See you outside in ten?”

“Yeah,” Isaac said, giving you a slow and sexy smile. 

You turned and headed for the kitchen, letting out a long breath as you did. Isaac’s whole existence was driving you crazy. Although you did like the blue eyed boy, and you’ve been wanting something to happen for a while, he was making you incredibly nervous. You’d rather avoid him instead of potential embarrassing yourself. 

After you filled your red solo cup with the fruity punch being served, one of your classmates came up to you.

“Hey Y/N, cute costume.”

“Thanks!”

“I didn’t know you and Isaac were a thing.”

“Huh,” you asked confused.

“The couple’s costume,” they said hesitantly. “Chucky and Tiffany.”

“Ohh, duh” you said to yourself when you realized. “We’re not dating. We just happened to wear costumes that went together.”

“Oh... well, the two of you look good together,” they said shrugging then walked away.

All your friends were already outside ready to take the picture. Lydia handed her phone to the designated photographer, then went to stand next to Stiles. Scott was in the middle, with Kira next to him. Malia was next to Kira, while Stiles and Lydia were on the other side of Scott. You stood next to Malia, throwing your arm over your friend’s shoulder. Isaac stood near Stiles. 

After two pics were snapped, Lydia went to check the photos. She grabbed her phone, then looked up at the group. “Somethings not right...,” she said out loud, thinking to herself. “I know!” She grabbed Isaac by his arm and pulled him over to where you were standing. “That’s better. You’re costumes go together, so it makes sense,” she said smiling. She mumbled a quick you’re welcome to you before she handed the camera back over and went back to her place next to Stiles.

The person taking the pictures counted down “3, 2, 1,” then snapped a pic. But before you got to one, Isaac grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. You shrieked in response then started laughing. 

“Okay, now a funny one,” Scott yelled so everyone could hear. 

Isaac didn’t hesitate, quickly picking you up bridal style. You yelped, then immediately stuck your tongue out at him. Lydia’s phone flashed as the picture was taken, then everyone stopped doing their poses, but Isaac didn’t put you down.

You giggled before you spoke. “You can put me down now, Isaac. The picture’s over.”

“I said I should keep you close. So that’s what I’m doing,” he said smiling down at you in his arms. “And besides, if we’re next to each other people will think we’re a couple, so no guy will ask you to dance.”

You titled your head to the side, your eyes squinted slightly. “But we’re not a couple.”

“Give it a few weeks.”

Your mouth dropped in a silent gasp, slowly turning into a huge grin. You heard Kira giggling behind you and Stiles’s “yuck.”

#Teen Wolf #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #isaac lahey fanfic

[ichorai]

ties that bind ; nanami kento ; june 13th.

pairing ; nanami kento x reader

drabble synopsis ; packed lunches for four!

themes ; fluff, slice of life, established relationship (married), parents au

warnings / includes ; first introduction to baby yuriko :) this is so domestic it makes me sick, again this series is completely disregarding the shibuya incident and will be a lot of slice of life fluffy filler kind of vibes

series masterlist.

13th june, 2019

“I made lunch,” you told Nanami, handing him the sealed bento box with a warm smile. Your husband mirrored your expression, one of his hands cradling the back of your head to pull you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Thank you,” he said. Then, his keen eyes darted down to the counter, where there were three other bento boxes stacked on top of one another. “And these are for…?”

Your features turned sheepish. “I was going to bring Yuriko to come visit the school—so I made lunches for the second-year kids, as well. No doubt they haven’t had anything home-cooked in a long time.”

Something in Kento’s eyes softened. You were so painfully good and kind it made his chest ache. 

“You spoil them,” he whispered, nose nudging over the crown of your head. 

You made a noise of amusement at that. “They deserve to be spoiled.” Then, you glanced over at the round clock hanging in the kitchen. “I’ll see you in a couple hours? I think I’ll drop by around 11 or so.”

“Mhm. Try to avoid running into Gojo this time. Yuriko hates him.”

Your daughter, nearing six months old now, still burst into a fit of panicked tears every time Gojo tried to hold her, much to the excited man’s chagrin. Nanami would often proudly remark that she was his daughter. 

“I can’t promise anything. It feels like Satoru has eyes and ears everywhere,” you replied with a laugh in your voice.

Nanami frowned at the thought, but it was quick to dissipate when you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I love you,” he said in farewell, eliciting a fond I love you, too, right back. 

With that, he whisked out of the kitchen and made his way to the door. It saddened him to leave for work before Yuriko could wake up, but he felt better knowing she was coming to visit the school with you. 

“What’s inside?” Nobara queried when you handed the three students their respective packed lunches.

“White rice with some steamed fish and veggies. There’s also watermelon chunks in the other container. You guys need to have a balanced diet, you know.” You reached out to fondly ruffle Yuji’s disheveled pink hair, knowing the boy had terrible eating habits. “You still have a lot of growing to do.”

Megumi, polite as ever, bowed his head and thanked you with a quiet tone. Nobara’s eyes had lit up at the mention of watermelon, eagerly chiming in her appreciation, as well. You grinned, and gestured for them to start eating. 

“Won’t you be eating with us?” Yuji asked, more as a request than an actual question. He was poking fingers at baby Yuriko in her stroller, pulling funny faces so that she would coo with laughter. Yuji had always been her favorite out of the three.

“I would, but I’m dropping off Nanami’s lunch, as well,” you told them, earning a pout of disappointment from Yuji and Nobara. 

The three of them began opening up their lunches. 

“Make sure to eat all of it, okay?” you told them in a mothering tone, laughing slightly when Nobara went straight for the watermelon rather than the rice. “I’ll see all of you this weekend—I was thinking we could all go to the beach. The weather calls for it, you know?”

It’d been nothing but sunshine and wispy clouds for the past week. 

Yuji tickled Yuriko’s wriggling feet within her stroller, excitedly nodding in agreement. “Sounds good with me! We could play volleyball!”

“Okay, I really should get going,” you said, waving goodbye. Before you could step away, Yuji pulled away from the baby stroller to envelop you in a warm hug, his arms wrapped tightly over your upper body. It surprised you at first, but you were quick to affectionately return the embrace. 

“Thank you for the food, and for being so considerate of us!” he said once he pulled away, saluting you with a nod. You laughed at how serious he sounded.

Swallowing her last bite of watermelon (she was definitely going to nick some from the other two), Nobara barked out, “Hey! Stop trying to be Y/N’s favorite, you suck-up!”

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento ff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami fanfiction #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento drabbles #nanami kento imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

[amirasainz]

can i please request lando making his moves to baby!sainz and finally becoming her boyfriend

Hi loves. I hope you'll like this little piece. My requests are OPEN. Feedback is always welcome. -XoXo

The move

“Flowers, Cake, Necklace… What did I forget?” Nervously, Lando stared at himself in the mirror. He was dressed quite nicely: a black button-up shirt with the first three buttons undone, perfectly styled curls and rings on his fingers. Even though he looked put together, his heart was beating quicker than his McLaren.

Today was finally the day when Lando Norris would ask Amira to become his girlfriend. Since he met her in 2019, he fell in love with her. Max (Fewtrell) always teased him about his crush, making jabs at him whether it was on stream, a Quadrant video, or in private.

What finally made Lando decide to make a move was her return to Monaco. When Carlos decided to move there, he packed his seven things and moved into a nice apartment. Obviously, Amira now lived in the same apartment as Carlos. Lando was more than delighted when he helped the Sainz siblings move in.

Over the past few weeks, he spent all of his free time at her place. Initially, it was to help her, but over time the two of them grew even closer. That’s why Lando is staring at himself now, gathering up his courage to finally ask her to be his girlfriend.

He quickly went to his car and drove to her place. One of the main reasons why he wanted to ask her today was because Carlos was currently in Maranello.

Lost in his thoughts, Lando didn’t realize that he already stood in front of her door. Before he lost all of his bravery, he knocked on her door. When she opened the door, he lost all of his breath. There she stood, sleek ponytail and light flower dress on.

“Lando, what can I—” "Amira Isabella Camila Sainz Vázquez de Castro. When I first met you, you didn’t only steal my breath but also my heart. It was like time stopped. The only thing I could focus on was your lovely smile that you gave me. Over the years, I fell more and more for you. I would do anything for you. I know I’m not the smartest person in the world. Not even the kindest. But I would study every book in the Oxford library for you. I would move the ocean and the moon if it means spending a minute with you. My heart broke the day you were crying because of a stupid boy. A beauty like you should only smile every day. I want to be the one to make you smile. So now, Amira… My love, I’m offering you my heart today. I hope you will accept it. And I hope that I can call you mine."

Time stopped. The birds stopped chirping. No car was heard. It was as if, for one second, the entire world stopped breathing. And for Lando, it was the longest second of his life.

“Oh, Lando,” Amira quickly threw herself at him. After a while, the hug broke. They leaned their foreheads against each other. Her hands cupped his cheeks. His arms were tightly wrapped around her waist.

“You have my heart as well.”

#formula 1 #lando norris x reader #baby!sainz!sister #formula 1 x reader

[xxblairexxss]

I’m sorry

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x asian!reader

Theme : Angst

Just a timeline of Charles’s girlfriend throughout the years, how she went from a girl who migrated to France when she was 6 years old to becoming a girlfriend of the Formula 1 driver, Charles Leclerc.

I’m not entirely sure about this one but I just wanted to clear my draft. I’m only tagging those who told me they wanted to be included in my general tag list! Please don’t be offended if I didn’t tag you because it’s not Jealousy part 3 😭 so I thought you don’t want to be tagged but please let me know if you wish to in all of my stories!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

2018

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2019

yninstagram

Liked by charles_leclerc and 98,765 others

ynusername dropping a selfie bcs it’s been a while

charles_leclerc Mon amour 🧸🤎

ynusername 🤎

user1 SO PRETTYY

user2 LOVING THE HAIR COLOUR!!

user3 she’s asian? can she speaks french?

user4 she has lived in france since she was 6 so yes she can

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 78,072 others

ynusername a quick stop for mirror selfie before rushing to class

charles_leclerc my pretty girl 🤎

user1 oh to be called my pretty girl by charles too 😭

user2 does she always dress like that?

user3 other wags just scream old money with class. this one..i’m not sure myself 😣

user4 lol she can wear whatever she wants

user2 i just wish she wear something more relevant since it’s affecting charles’s image too

user4 that doesn’t make any sense

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2020

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 103,665 others

ynusername rainy season 🌧️

charles_leclerc I miss you

ynusername I miss you too 🥺🥺

user1 I love how she still look stunning without all those expensive brands

user2 PRETTIESTTT ❤️

user3 is it just me or she looks so out of place compare to other wags?

user4 how i wish she paid more attention to her style

user5 too simple 😕

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2021

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 277,231 others

ynusername loving this dress! 💛

charles_leclerc beautiful princess

ynusername love youu! 🥺

user1 meeeh tried too hard

user2 lol all those stuffs but still don’t look on par with other wags

user3 omg you look so pretty in a dress!!! AAAAA

user4 charles’s princess ❤️

user5 girl you ate and left all crumbs

“I can’t.”

Charles furrowed his brows to your answer. “What do you mean you can’t? Y/N, we have been together for more than 6 years. Don’t you think it’s time for us to start living together?”

“I got a job offer in London. I’ll be moving away in a week.”

“What? What about us? Don’t you think you should have told me first before you accepted the offer?” He blinked in disbelief, part of him was hoping that you were just pulling a prank on him.

“It was a job that my mom had always been dreaming of, Charles. She sacrificed a lot for me.”You tilted your chin to avoid the tears on your waterline to spill. “She sacrificed her life before she could play with dolls for me. I spent my childhood waiting for the sound of her keys jingling as she came back from her night shift, waking up with just a small note sticked on the side of my breakfast plate because she couldn’t wished me a good morning for having to rush to work. She gave up on her dream, crying from missing her parents in South Korea every night just to make sure I got a chance to draw my life with colours so I wouldn’t have to suffer like she did. I need to accept this job for her. Everything I have been doing and ever will do is for her and you know this.”

Charles remained silence. He had always known your mom’s struggle, raiding you alone as a signle mother and part of him had always known that if you were put in a situation where you had to prioritise your life or your mom’s life, you would always choose hers. He knew it but he was never prepared for the day to come. He couldn’t find himself to say anything else and pulled you into his embrace instead.

“And I’m tired. I’m so, so tired of the constant pressure from everyone. I can’t even wear anything that I want without getting comments about how incompatible I look, how messy I look. I– I don’t know what they– what everyone wants from me. It’s either I looked out of place, an outsider or I looked like I’m trying too hard. I don’t know what everyone expect from me. I’m happy, I’m so goddamn happy that you got to be where you are right now but the more you are building yourself, the more I’m falling apart. I’m losing myself, Charles. I feel like I have been helping you to build your garden while mine is just getting abandoned and forsaken and just full of wilt flowers.”

“I’m sorry.”

That was the last word you remembered him saying as he kept you in your arms, holding you so you wouldn’t fall on your knee from the way your body shook within every sob.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

2022

ynusername

London, United Kingdom

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 277,663 others

ynusername took a day off to play tourist!

comments have been disabled

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2023

lancomeofficial and ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 377,620 others

lancomeofficial Lancôme newest global ambassador, ynusername lookingall glammed up by jaime.creates.

user1 OMG OMG OMG

user2 THAT’S MY GIRRLL

user3 been here since day 1

user4 She looks unreal

user5 it’s been a while since the last time i saw her in my feed 🥹

user6 still using her ex bf fame to build her name lol she’s worse than other ex wag

user7 are you high???

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[ladylooch]

Strictly Pleasure - [Timo Meier]

A/N: So color me stunned when I went to the roster of Team Switzerland in 2019 and did not in fact see Timo on it……. Because the Sharks were in the playoffs…. LMAO But you know my entire AU timeline is built on 2019 so we go with it. As promised, the full fic for our unanimous poll winners 🥹

As a warning, I literally was clawing my fingernails into the bench seat editing this morning. Holy fuck. Apparently I was feeling extra smutty this weekend.....

Word Count: 4.3k

The coolness of my white wine glass chills my palm while I bring the liquid to my lips. I take a sip, lips curling up in appreciation of both the wine and the stunning sunset before my eyes. I sit on the patio of a cafe in Bratislava, Slovakia awaiting the arrival of my little brother. I am the only member of my family who has been able to make it over to Slovakia in time to see him compete for our country at the IIHF World Championships. His previous international experience has been at the U18 level, but this year he is competing in the big leagues. We are so proud of him and I feel honored to have the flexibility to see him live his dream this week.

Crowds from various countries line the streets of the capital city, surrounding Ondrej Nepela Arena. Various teams are represented- the three crowns of Sweden, the lion of Finland and one man with the red and white of my home country. I smile at the familiar crest on his chest. He wanders down the sidewalk with sunglasses on, hair perfectly styled in a swoop to the left. Mirrored aviators hide his upward gaze to the awning that spells out the restaurant. He flips his sunglasses up, looking down at his phone, then at the name of the restaurant again. Once confirming, he puts his phone back in his pocket, then stalls his footsteps at the podium explaining the menu options for tonight.

“Go Swiss!” I cheer in my native language at him. He looks up from where he had been studying the menu, nodding in my direction. 

“You from?”

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

“I assumed so. You have the accent.” 

“You… kind of do?” He chuckles, questioning. His head tilts to the side slightly, thick eyebrows pulling lower over his eyes. “Where are you from?”

“Close to Bern.”

“Ah… that southern dialect can be troublesome.”

“Maybe you just haven’t heard it enough. Should get out of the big city.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Zurich. Clearly.”

“St. Gallen.”

“Same difference.” 

“Okay.” He chuckles, shifting as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “This place any good?”

“Wine is good.” I cheers my glass in the air at him. “But other than that, I don’t know. My brother picked the place.”

“Yeah, I am meeting someone here too.” 

“Would you like to wait with me? I can buy you a drink.” For some reason, he laughs. 

“Buy me a drink?” He nods. “Sure, if your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“No boyfriend. I’m sure your girlfriend will not be much longer though?”

“No girlfriend. If I did, sitting next to a beautiful Swiss woman would likely get me into big trouble.” He murmurs, reaching for the back of the empty chair across from me. As he pulls it out, my brother comes hustling up next to us.

“Oh great! You did get my text about Timo joining us. I’m glad you found each other.” We both pause, connecting the pieces of who we are to each other. I would not have pegged him as a hockey player. He presents so different from the others I have interacted with over my brother’s playing career. “Timo, this is my older sister Emma.”

“Nice to meet you.” He murmurs as he shakes my hand. Our hands fit perfectly together in a polite shake. His fingers drag along every inch of my palm as he pulls his hand back, creating an electric jolt up my arm.

“Yeah…” I trail off, answering my brother. I gulp down a sip of wine. “He was easy to spot.” Nico grins as I stand, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Hi.” I haven’t seen Nico for a few weeks. He came home to Switzerland after his season ended, but was running off with all his friends with his new found freedom.

“I am glad you could make it. Mama and Papa are coming tomorrow?”

“Yes, it was the earliest they could get here. I was able to get on a flight from my conference in Berlin.” 

“Good. More time together.” I laugh, glancing at Timo who studies the menu across from me.

“Seemed you liked the way the last few weeks were.” I murmur. “Your big sister always coming in last.”

“I’m sorry.” Nico sighs regretfully.

“It’s okay. As per usual, your time is pulled in every single direction.” 

“Yes, but you’re important to me. I’ll do better.”

“Good! You can start by buying me dinner. You make the big bucks now!” 

“Yeah, you can buy mine too. You make 1st overall money. I’m slumming it down at 9.” Timo and I share a look, chuckling together at Nico’s red, embarrassed cheeks.

“With a flick of a pen, you instantly made more money than your sister has her entire career. You can buy my dinner.” I pile on.

“Stop.” Nico shakes his head with a shy smile. “I will buy you dinner because I love you and that’s it.” I shake my head, looking over at Timo.

“Nico always has to be so sweet to make me feel bad for teasing him.”

“You need to get meaner Nico.” Timo laughs. “Your sister is more intimidating than you.” I scoff at him, then smirk.

“Certified man eater.” I confirm. “You better be careful.” He sucks his cheeks in for a moment, scanning his eyes along my body. Then he shakes his head.

“I like a challenge.” He winks. I pause, recognizing his interest, sliding my gaze over to my little brother who seems to be contemplating between two entrees. I lick a drop of wine off my lips after taking a sip. Timo’s blue eyes stay there, then fall back down to the menu in front of me.

The rest of dinner, these small, wordless interactions happen. He brushes my hand while handing me back my filled water glass. We steal looks at each other whenever Nico isn’t looking. Most of the conversation is driven by us towards each other. Nico seems content to listen, happy to see us getting along so well after inviting a stranger to sibling bonding. I am thankful he did. Timo and I are vibing, conversing and joking like we have known each other for years, not less than two hours. 

Nico pays the bill, making a huge show of treating us with his black Amex. 

“Flaunting your wealth is tacky Nico.” I scold. He scoffs at me, waving me up out of my seat. I toss my arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a forced hug. “I love you. Thank you.”

“I love you, buddy! Thank you!” Timo says too, coming in to the other side so Nico is sandwiched between us. I giggle hard, tilting my head back towards the dark sky while doing so. Timo’s hands grip my sides as we squeeze Nico harder. I fold my fingers over his arms too, feeling the soft material of his sweatshirt. When I open my eyes all I can see is Timo. His beautiful blue eyes sparkling with joy. His big smile and scrunched nose indicating how much fun he is having with us.

“I could use another drink.” I hear myself say to him directly. He nods immediately, releasing from our packed hug.

“We have a bar in our hotel. Are you staying there too?” Timo asks casually.

“Oh! Yes! Let’s go.” I exclaim. “Neeks?”

“Maybe. I’m tired, but I’ll see how I feel when we get there.” 

“Okay.” I shrug. No offense to Nico, but I wouldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t come.

“How are we feeling about the game tomorrow?” I ask the boys as we walk the cobblestone walk way. 

“Good. We’ll get it done.” Timo says confidently. Nico echos that though a yawn.

His yawning continues through our first round of drinks until he is almost falling asleep sitting up in his chair where we sit at a space in the bar, backing up to the lobby.

“Nico, just go to bed.” I chuckle.

“Yeah I am going to head there.” Nico sighs after a yawn. He looks over at me. “You too?” I bite my lip, shaking my head. 

“I’m not tired. I stay up late for a living.” Nico shrugs his shoulders. “Goodnight.” He stands up.

“Goodnight baby brother.” I tease him as he heads across the lobby to the elevators. “Sleepy good!” I take a sip of my wine, then settle my brown eyes on Timo who still watches with those interested eyes. “Are you tired?” I wonder.

“No.” He says then takes a sip of his drink. “A lot more interesting things are happening down here than in mine and Fiala’s room.” A shiver runs from the base of my neck down my spine pulling my chest tight with flattery. 

“You like to stay up late?”

“Mhm.” He answers around another sip of his drink. He licks at his top teeth afterwards, bringing my eyes back to his lips. “Kinda have to in this job. What do you do?”

“I own an event planning business.” 

“Oh fancy, Ms. Entrepreneur.” 

“I went to college and everything.”

“Impressive. Maybe I should hire you to run my charity golf tournament.”

“I could do that. But it depends.”

“On?”

“What happens between us tonight.” A slow and sexual grin rolls across his lips. He likes my boldness. My heart fluters excitedly in my chest. I love this part, getting gorgeous and powerful men to give into what has been brewing between us. “I have a strict line between business and pleasure. I’m sure you can understand that in your line of work.” Timo nods, looking lost in a previous mistake. 

“That is fair.” He tilts his head. A few teammates walk through the lobby, shouting a hello at Timo. He gives a brief wave, then focuses back on me.

“Any chance I could convince you to go somewhere private to discuss further your personal and professional qualifications?” There is nothing professional about his request.

“Where would you suggest?”

“Maybe your room?” I pretend to contemplate, leaning back in my chair while studying him with scrutiny. 

“What would we do there?” I ask him, dragging out the vowels in my words. I slowly run my tongue along my lips, gathering his attention there.

“You can tease me some more with that mouth.” 

Forward. Bold. Going in for the kill, just like I hoped. 

“Our drinks?” He pulls his wallet out, tossing cash onto the table. He stuffs his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and stands. He holds his hand out for me. I stare at the warm, welcoming skin of his palm. I know what taking that hand means. I know this is dangerous territory, but Timo is a temporary teammate of my brother. It’s not like he is in New Jersey with him full time.

I slide my fingers gently into his hand, then clasp it as he lifts me into a standing position. He weaves our fingers together, palms cupping each other as we walk silently to the elevator. He pulls me in behind him, then turns expectantly at me.

“Four.” I tell him. He presses the button and the doors close. 

“You do this often?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Plenty.” His eyes drag ravenously from my face down my body. He nods in surprised appreciation. “I won’t tell you I love you after, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He chuckles. 

“You look harder to get than that. What are the rules?” He asks as he turns towards me. His hand drops mine, so he can pull my hips flush with his. My eyes flutter at what I feel. Big. Hard. Ready. 

“Wrap it up. Don’t you dare finish before me. No butt stuff. And…” I insist, stepping closer. “Nico never knows.” My foot goes between his, rubbing my thigh against his zipper. He exhales a little heavier, hinting at the desire building in his body. The elevator doors open and we step out. I lead the way, sliding the key through and pushing the door open. I walk in first again. He shuts the door behind us then crosses the slim space between us. He whips me around by my wrist, crowding my space immediately. My heartbeat skyrockets in dangerous and needy passion.

“Anything else?” He asks, sliding a hand to the side of my neck. He holds it tight, thumb stroking my cheek. His blue eyes are fierce, ready for whatever waits for us on the other side of my answer. 

“What are yours?”

“I don’t want anything serious. You understand that?” He strokes my cheek as he says it as if to soften the blow. He’s clearly had this conversation before with other women. He’ll figure out I’m not like them soon enough.

“Completely.”

“Are you on the pill?” 

“Yes.” I laugh. “Are we going to fuck now or keep playing 20 questions?” I slide my hand down to the button on his pants. He laughs too, pausing as he bites his bottom lip. 

“What are your thoughts on cuddling?”

“Hell no.”

“My kinda girl.” He whispers then closes the gap between our faces.

His lips on mine create an explosion that rocks me to my core. I exhale into his mouth in a moan. He runs his hand through my hair then down my body. It wraps around my waist and he lifts, practically tossing me up onto the hotel desk. The lamp shade rattles against the wall. His hands come to my shirt, lifting. Our lips part for a moment, then reconnect with tongues. Wetness pools in my panties, almost soaking them through. 

One of his hands comes up to my breast, squeezing it, then finding my nipple and thumbing it over my bra. I sigh happily into his mouth, then fist his shirt in my hand. His shirt joins mine on the floor, then I reach for the button on his pants. It snaps apart easily. I jerk his zipper down until it’s completely open. His cock is hot and seeping in his underwear. I pull back from his mouth, looking down as he unclasps my bra. The straps slack along my arms. He pulls them the rest of the way off, then takes me in. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbles, tugging my hips so I slide closer to him on the desk top. “So, so beautiful.” He repeats against the warm skin of my chest. His lips kiss down vertically, until he gets to a tight nipple. He makes eye contact with me as he sucks it into his mouth. His tongue strokes upwards too, making my jaw unhinge for a moment. “You had so much to say earlier, now you’re quiet? Gonna have to change that.” He whispers, then sucks my nipple deep into his mouth, working it over, sending darts of pleasure to my clit. It aches to be touched, missing out on his skilled mouth and fingers. 

“Oh.” I pant. He smirks into my breast.

My fingers find the waistband of his underwear, tugging it back from his skin so his cock rises to rest on his belly. His red tip is oozing down the edge of his head. I bite my lip, then my head knocks back into the lamp as his tongue strokes my other nipple into submission.

Fuck, this is incredible. He knows exactly what he is doing. When to push, when to pull away, how to tease and reward. He will be worth any future punishment. My hands shove at the waistbands of his bottom layers until they work down his strong hips. He steps out of them, grabbing a condom in his jean pocket, then kicks them off to the side. I lean back on one palm grinning. He lets me take him in, every delicious curve and edge of his muscular body made perfect from hockey and hard work. His big hands cup my breasts, rolling his thumbs over the stiff peaks in unison. 

“Oh that feels sooo good.” I moan appreciatively. I run my free hand through my hair. He watches my face, playing with me more until I am embarrassingly close to coming without him even being inside of me. “I need you to fill me up.”I demand breathlessly. He bites his lip.

“You’re so fucking sexy. You can tell me what to do all night, Emma.” 

“Just call me Em.” I laugh. “Emma is so formal.” 

“Whatever you want, babe.” 

He unbuttons my jeans, then pulls them off my legs. He admires my black, lace panties, seeing the creamy wetness pooling there just for him, then he works them off my body so we are both naked. He picks me up, setting me to the very edge of the desk, then he hands me the condom. I rip the package open with my teeth, gripping the tip, before easing it down his shaft. His eyes close and he sways slightly forward at my hands on him.

He crowds my space, our breath combining together, still smelling like the minimal alcohol we had tonight. One hand goes to my left hip, then the other goes to grip his shaft. He rolls his head through my folds, collecting my soaking juices before he nestles his head at my entrance. Together, we watch him disappear between my swollen lips. He lets out a shaky exhale. He grabs my wrists, putting them on his shoulders, then he lifts me slightly up off the desk, beginning to pump into my pussy. 

Tingling explosions burst out down my body. Gooseflesh covers my arms and legs as I take each hard thrust with enthusiastic greed. I kiss along his jaw, grinning at the way I jerk in his arms with each pump. He isn’t handling me like a fragile doll, he is fucking me just like I knew he would. Hard, fast, deep, showing he was built with power and strength for a reason.

“Fuck, Em, your pussy is so good.” He growls into my neck. The sound of skin slapping together increases, becoming disgustingly obvious in the room as he rocks hard into me. “So wet and tight.” He hisses through gritted teeth. My nose bumps into his jaw as I moan on his throat. He turns his face, capturing my lips then fucking up harder and faster into me. My whole body goes tight and rigid, then I fall into my orgasm. Timo fucks me through it, not wavering in his thrusts at all until I collapse onto his chest in surrender. He slows then, kissing my neck as he takes me to the bed. He lays me down, then work himself out of me. I look down at the condom, wondering if we are done.

“Your turn. Show me what you got, Hischier.” I laugh loudly. He sits down on the bed, then falls backwards. He takes my hand in one of his, fingers folding together, helping me maneuver to straddle his lap. I work my hair to one side, then reach behind me to grab his cock in my hand. He hums, then sighs happily as I swallow him whole in one press of my hips. Timo’s eyes literally roll back into his head as I start to move. His hands come behind his head fingers lacing together on the pillow below.

“That’s right. Just lay there princess.” I smirk, throwing my hips back on his cock. 

“Funny… gorgeous… talented… where has Nico been hiding you?”

“Practically under your nose.”

“Ah, that’s why I didn’t see it. It’s a little big.” I giggle, then set my hands on his shoulders, rolling my hips.

“Ooo. You know how to fuck.” He praises me. “So good….” He bites his lip, exhaling heavily. “Little more, gorgeous.” He encourages. I comply and he groans. “Mmmm.” His hands snap away from the back of his head. He grips my hips, feeling the roll of them on him. Then two fingers find my clit. I shutter. His other hand comes to my breast, pinching my nipple. “Fuck me until you cum.”  He whispers. I moan shakily, then keep bucking my hips down into him. When he senses I am about to release, he works his hips up in little thrusts to help me over the edge.

“Oh!” I cry out, pinching my other nipple.

He gently eases me down, pulling his feet up closer to his butt so his thighs create support for my back. I slump into them. I pant, looking at him on the pillow as he smirks. 

“Shit.” I hiss as he forces his cock up deep into me, lifting my weight with his hips like it’s nothing. 

“Doggy?” He asks, wiggling his large eyebrows. I nod eagerly.

I’ve never come so hard or had so much fun with a one night stand before. Usually, it’s awkward, bumping into each other and trying to find the right tempo. Not with Timo. It truly feels like we were made for each other. Gone is the insecure way I try to move my body so my partner can see the best angles. Usually, I stay away from doggy. But I am desperate to feel the hard slapping of his balls against my clit. 

We both stand. Timo kisses me, tongues flirting within my mouth. Our lips are puffy and red by the time we pull apart. He twists my hips, working his cock between my legs as I bend over in front of him. He lines his latex covered head with my entrance, then pulls me back on his dick. We both groan loudly this time, appreciating the stretch and arousal of each other. 

“Gonna be dreaming about this pussy tonight.” He groans, starting to buck his hips again. The delicious slapping has me deliriously groping the bed sheets. His thick cock crams into me thrust after thrust, feeling like he is rearranging my internal organs. A big hand comes to the back of my neck, forcing me down. I groan loudly, shrieking an inhale at how good this angle feels. 

“Please.” I hear myself beg.

“Please what, baby?”

“Please make me cum. Please. More. Um! That! Yeah!” I yelp out as his hips snap harder into me. My ass shakes with his powerful thrusts. I turn my face into the comforter, then scream hard into it as a powerful orgasm grips my core and turns me inside out. 

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum. Feels so fucking good when you cum.” I shake against his thighs as he finishes in the condom. His hand releases from the back of my neck. He grips the edge of the condom then works his way out of me. Wordlessly, he heads to the bathroom, striping himself and cleaning off. I collapse forward into the bed sheets, curling into the fetal position while my heavy breathing continues. Timo brings a towel back with him, tossing it to me. Afterwards, I throw it onto the floor while he lays back next to me in bed. 

“Good job.” I murmur, holding my hand up. He slaps it firmly, then sighs happily.

“That was amazing.” He turns to look at me when he says it. I nod, meeting his gaze. “Any chance you’re available for more of that this summer?”

“No strings?”

“No strings.” He agrees. 

“Then yeah. I’m available.” He chuckles. 

“We make a good team, tho. Damn.” He rubs a hand over his head. He turns his wrist, looking at the time on his expensive, silver watch. “I gotta go. It’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah, I want to go to sleep.” I admit, stretching out, pushing at his thigh under the covers to move him off the bed. He dramatically rolls off like I kicked him full on. I giggle as he rests his chin on the bed from the floor. His blue eyes soak me up. His hand comes up, poking at my left cheek.

“Your dimples are cute.”

“Thank you.” I murmur. 

“How long are you here?”

“Wanna see me again already?” He laughs.

“Yeah. Sex that great is rare. I want you again tomorrow.” Butterflies erupt in my stomach. I roll my bottom lip in my mouth, watching him pull his clothes back on. His last article is the Team Switzerland sweatshirt he zips up to the middle of his chest.

“Okay.” I agree. He smiles gently, then walks towards me. 

He kneels one knee on the bed, hovering over the body he wrecked tonight. He kisses me quick, then pulls away. He smells seductive and sultry, like his expensive cologne and me. 

“Sweet dreams.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.” I respond. He walks out of the room, closing the door softly during his exit.

I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling above me. The butterflies in my stomach expand up into my chest until it feels crammed full. I put my hand over my face, watching back the reel of the night against my black eyelids, ending with the mutual agreement of more. 

More this weekend. More even this off-season too. More, more, more because it will be months before I will have had my fill of him.

I’m not sure how we will make it all work. Sneaking around once is one thing, but doing it continuously is another.

I guess this planner is going to have to figure it out. 

Because It’s going to be a long, hot summer with Timo Meier.

More Timo and Emma can be found here.

#tm: loving & leaving #Timo Meier x oc #timo meier smut #Timo Meier imagine #hockey fan fiction #nhl fan fiction

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Since Andrew is taking some well deserved time away from the public at the moment, let's revisit (or visit for the first time, if you're new here) this stunning photoshoot from Mr. Porter, October 2019, when he was doing press for Modern Love and his Ripley casting had just been announced (yes, it's taken that long for it to come out).

Mr Andrew Scott’s big brown eyes are open wide in amused disbelief. “That was not an Irish accent,” he says in his musical Irish brogue. “That was a West Country accent.” How embarrassing for an interviewer who thought to connect with her subject by lightly mocking Mr Ed Sheeran’s ­– again – not-Irish accent in his cameo in Mr Scott’s episode of Amazon’s upcoming anthology series, Modern Love. Panic sets in. “It’s all right,” he says, soothingly. “It’s all right. Accents are such funny things.”

You know what else is a funny thing? Sitting with Fleabag’s “hot priest” – 2019’s most unexpected sex symbol – in a wine bar in Bermondsey, southeast London, talking about vulnerability, romcoms and love stories. Or, to take another angle: sitting across the table from the deranged Jim Moriarty and letting him pick out a rosé. That tickles, too. Having Hamlet express the need for a mini-break in, he doesn’t know, Copenhagen? Amsterdam, maybe? Surreal.

But actually, Mr Scott, who is wearing what can only be described as a modified sweatsuit (shorts and a zip-up sweatshirt, no shirt beneath) after our photoshoot isn’t funny funny. No, Mr Scott is serious: reserved and contemplative, but with the energy of a theatre nerd who, every once in a while, rests his head in his hands, cupping his fingers around his eyes to form blinkers while he thinks about a question you’ve just asked. In this quiet wine bar. He’s not an evil murderer, an agent of a shadowy organisation, or an overly excited (wink) cleric. He’s just a nice guy who sympathises about the difficulty of parsing the subtleties of the many accents in the British Commonwealth (and beyond).

Mr Scott is still hot off his run in Fleabag, even though the show ran from March to April of this year. A few weeks ago, he received a GQ Men of the Year Award, and just a few weeks after that, was in Los Angeles at the Emmy Awards where Fleabag cleaned up, winning three awards.

Of course, this is not Mr Scott’s big break. He’s been in the business since moving from Dublin to London 20 years ago to pursue acting. His dad worked in employment, helping young people find the right careers and his mother was an art teacher. “They were definitely into following your passion and doing that for the rest of your life,” he says. “Rather than, ‘You should be a lawyer,’ or whatever the fuck.”

And this has been a year for Mr Scott’s passions. Aside from Fleabag, and an episode of Black Mirror that landed on Netflix this June, he’s making a poignant appearance in the aforementioned _Modern Love,_­ which will drop all at once on 18 October. A series of discreet episodes, each one features its own starry cast (Mr Dev Patel, Mr John Slattery, Ms Tina Fey, Ms Anne Hathaway and, of course, Mr Ed Sheeran, among others), based on the much-loved New York Times column from which it takes its name. Mr Scott’s episode, which co-stars Ms Olivia Cooke and Mr Brandon Kyle Goodman, is loosely based on an early column written by the sex-and-relationships writer Mr Dan Savage about the unusual experience he and his partner had with adoption. “It’s just a really sweet little story. It’s not about a romantic relationship,” he says, (many Modern Love entries are not). “It’s simply about the relationships between people.”

He’s also currently filming in Cardiff for the BBC TV series of His Dark Materials. And maybe there’s a Marvel movie in his future? “Oh, fuck. Completely false,” he says. “Someone said, ‘Are you going to be in a thing?’ I said, ‘No,’ and I said, ‘There have been discussions.’ And it’s like ‘Andrew Scott has been in discussions.’”

That’s what happens when suddenly everyone wants you – to use Twitter parlance – to run them over with your car. The Priest, unlike his other characters, was a sex symbol, one that wears the hell (forgive me, Father) out of a cassock. But who could be surprised that Mr Scott turned a priest into the “Hot Priest” simply by saying “kneel”? (If you don’t know what that means, stop reading now, watch the show, come back.) In fact, he has been making words positively drip with meaning for nearly a decade.

Consider Moriarty, the insane criminal puppet master Mr Scott played for six years across four seasons of the BBC’s Sherlock, opposite Mr Benedict Cumberbatch in the titular role. This particular Moriarty – Holmes’ famous nemesis, who has also been played by Messrs Orson Welles, John Huston and Sir Laurence Olivier – is indelible and utterly idiosyncratic. “If you’re going to do it, I don’t see there’s any point in doing it without putting your own stamp on it. I never look at any previous incarnations,” says Mr Scott. The result of this thinking – in Sherlock, at least – was a Moriarty who is all sing-song eeriness, molten physicality, and questionable cutaway collars. “He was quite theatrical; he was grotesque, sort of the archetypal villain,” he says. Archetypal, indeed: the role propelled him into the world of maniacal superfandom. He might not have received a dedicated stan nomenclature like his co-star (ahem, “Cumberbitches”), but the role made Mr Scott a household name.

Of course, establishing yourself as adept at playing evil incarnate probably leads to people wanting to cast you in more Moriarty-like roles. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yep, yeah,” he says, six times. “Yeah, exactly right,” (one more). “I turned down a lot. The shadow of that character took over for a little while.”  The craze got to be so tiresome that he asked the interviewer for a recent profile in The Guardian not to ask him about Moriarty at all (two years after he last appeared in the series). But now he sees a bigger picture, understands how being the object of abject obsession can be a good thing. “I think to answer your questions,” he says, tapping his fingers on the table, “it’s been really good fun.”

Mr Scott demurs when asked what it’s like to be the quencher of many thirsts on the internet. “People don’t say that to me. People don’t say, ‘Oh my God...” He shakes his head and trails off, perhaps in horror of what fans could be saying to him. It’s a little hard to believe that he wouldn’t be mobbed as he walks down the street. After all, one major British publication declared that Fleabag and the Priest were the only couple worth talking or tweeting about this year. (We guess Meghan and Harry, and Kim and Kanye can relax.)

“If I’m honest, it’s only really just starting to dawn on me, the global effect the show has had. People like a bit of transgression, they just do.” Any follower of his career, though, understands that it’s more than just good writing that makes him so very watchable (though good writing, is, politely, what he puts it down to). His chemistry is electric with Ms Phoebe Waller-Bridge, as it was electric with Mr Cumberbatch, and palpable even if you weren’t lucky enough to catch his rendition of Hamlet and – like this interviewer – had to watch a clip on YouTube.

Mr Scott’s character, Tobin, in Modern Love is the most subdued we might ever see him. There’s very little shouting, and none of the wide-eyed glaring that has defined his roles to date. Instead, he plays sweetly, quietly off a tiny baby, and tells goodnight stories to an adorable little girl. Perhaps this is a harbinger of softer roles to come. “I’d love to be in a romcom,” he says. “I love watching people fall in love, and how mad it is.” And yet: it was just announced that he will be playing Tom Ripley in a new adaptation of The Talented Mr Ripley. So much for avoiding the nutters.

“What always amazes me is how innocent we are as human beings,” he says, sidestepping yet another probing question about being so irresistible right now. “We are very easily manipulated by stories. If someone puts scary music behind someone and they’re told this person’s eyes are absolutely terrifying, you go: ‘Oh my God, that person is scary, and his eyes totally freak me out.’”

“But then,” he continues, “[you’re told] ‘the priest is hot, wait till you see him’. And then you look at his eyes in a very different way and it’s the manipulation of the storytelling. It literally changes your character.” Hmmm.

“The success is the writing,” he tries, again, to argue. But it’s hard to be convinced that an actor who’s hopped from one iconic character to another is simply lucky with writing. He sees he’s not getting anywhere and changes tack. “Acting is just a way of experimenting with different parts of myself. Vulnerability is something I’m really, really interested in. I think vulnerability is at the centre of every character I’ve ever played even if they don’t appear or present as vulnerable.”

Throughout this conversation, his eyes have flicked around the bar, and he pauses from time to time to comment on the other patrons. At one point, a woman is coughing so vehemently, he stops mid-sentence to remark, humorously, on whether she might be dying. Now, he spots something on the bar. “Oh my God, she’s reading Brené Brown.” We both turn to stare at the book.

“She writes a lot about vulnerability,” he explains, excited. “[Being vulnerable] is how you get ahead. I really, really strongly believe that. [Vulnerability is] strong, it’s really strong.”

Perhaps this is the secret we’ve been trying to distil about his appeal: Mr Scott uses vulnerability to bring us all into a space of fear or sadness or lust or anger with him so that every character he plays – whether it’s the hottest priest in London, a gay man in Brooklyn trying to become a father, or a murderous villain – thrums with the heartbreak that comes with being human.

“The more I work,” he continues, “the more I just think every story is in some way concerned with love – or the lack of it.” He smiles an earnest little smile and we both know this is the place to stop. “That’s the way life is,” he says. “It’s so fast and furious.”

https://www.mrporter.com/en-hk/journal/fashion/the-softer-side-of-mr-andrew-scott-1052122

#andrew scott #fleabag #modern love #ripley #netflix ripley #mr porter #blast from the past

[gaystan]

nobody knows the context for any of this but craig gets a intense short lived infatuation with stan during the month he and tweek are trying being open and it makes him want to die so badly it starts with him cyberstalking stan and not understanding why he’s doing it until he catches himself grinning too hard at a mirror selfie and he’s like oh no. from there he’s constantly sending anons to smarshrares.tumblr.com begging for gym selfies they haven’t posted he’s stalking kylebroflovski on instagram and staring at 2019 posts of stan playing on his nintendo switch shirtless backstage he’s submitting “stan marsh needs to kill himself” to crimsondawnconfessions and not understanding why he gets instablocked bc he meant it in a horny way it’s an all around TERRIBLE situation for him he’s so disgusted with himself. but he can’t stop.

he’s fucking terrified that kyle is going to find out and bring it up on fireside (catg has significantly more dirt on fireside than fireside has on catg and craig KNOWS they’re itching for something to say) and one day craig wakes up to a message from kyle that says “do you find my boyfriend attractive, craig?” and realizes in horror that he’s liked a picture of stan that kyle posted on instagram THREE years ago and didn’t realize it. oh it’s SO OVER. he blocks kyle but the deed is DONE and the next episode of fireside comes out THIS WEDNESDAY. craig listens to the entire next fireside episode and he’s biting his nails waiting for the moment kyle decides to bring up craig liking his old instagram post. but he never does. and craig breathes a sigh of relief thinking maybe he’s going to let it go. and then two weeks later Episode 158: The Talented Mr. Tucker drops and it’s ALL about craig having a crush on stan and craig is looking up Where to buy a gun los angeles legal AGAIN

#microceleb au #south park

[mycatishandsome]

AMA: My Experience as an Experienced “Shifter” and Where I am Today with it

So, I don’t ever talk about sifting anymore really, even to the friends I made through the sifting community, but I’ve weirdly been seeing a lot of sifting posts on my main and thought that it couldn’t be a coincidence- especially since I hadn’t been looking for the content. Tumblr is very specific about their algorithm I’ve found. That was weeks ago though, but for the first time today, I actually thought about shifting.

For a bit of context- I used to be a very popular shifttoker on TikTok years ago. Obviously im not anymore. I did it for about a year- met some great people, and some others not so much. It was exciting while it lasted, but i moved on after i started to notice all the drama, and genuinely got so annoyed so i left. Before shiftok, I was already very spiritual and using my time to consistently look into techniques especially regarding meditation, lucid dreaming, and astral projection. I never did figure out astral projection, but became what you could call a “master” of lucid dreaming. I was doing it every night, several times a night without waking up or causing problems! Then deeper into my research i found out about shifting.

It was much like lucid dreaming, or at least it followed my theories about dreams- that when we dream, we’re technically in another “state of existence” much like astral projection, where our consciousness is leaving the body. I couldn’t find much info on it honestly, and what info i did find either led back to TikTok, or to ancient spiritualities and religions, and I genuinely couldn’t decipher half the stuff i was reading from them. My mistake, was i went to TikTok instead of trying to understand anything else. TikTok, I genuinely believe, has done irreversible damage to what actual shifting is, and if you were anywhere near shiftok in 2019-2022ish, you know exactly what im talking about.

BUT that’s not what this post is about, I wanted to talk more about my experiences (just wanted to add my history :))

My first shift was actually not too long after i found out what shifting was, I can’t entirely recall the method i used- no its not one of the fancyshmancy ones we see all over YouTube. It was something more simple, like a genuinely simple meditation, and at this point i had gotten very good at meditating- shutting my mind off and feeling everything but nothing (if that makess sense). It was unlike anything i had experienced, ESPECIALLY lucid dreaming. It was really just a mirror image of this world, with some differences, so nothing crazy. It was after i had found shiftok that i decided to join in as a creator and share my experiences, as I was actively shifting.

This was another mistake, as i found it more difficult to shift after this, but again- this post isn’t about that.

I was actively shifting for about 2-3 years before I eventually stopped. Why did I stop? I started to see really negative results in my real life (cr as some call it). I had some real elaborate realities I would go to, some were planned to the most minuscule detail, others not as much. But i had a blast regardless, and genuinely learned so many new things. I stopped when I started to really look at my life here, which when i was a creator, i always would tell my followers to ground yourself here, to never look past what’s happening here. It’s easy to get lost in your many lives, but it’s not worth losing this one. I really should’ve followed my own advice though. In my life here, I was still in college, had just broken up with my boyfriend of a year, had some shit friends, and a job at a library (which was honestly the only good thing). My life was boring, and I was living out what i wanted, through shifting. Which isn’t entirely a bad thing, just not the best thing.

Once shiftok when to shit and i had left, I had kind of “healed” myself in a way and created a new relationship with shifting, i was shifting regularly again. It was also at this point that I started to come up with more theories about shifting other then the whole, “we’re tuning in to another consciousness”. I’m by all means not saying that isn’t what it is, but we don’t know for sure if it is, so i was just having fun, as a regular shifter and lucid dreamer, trying to figure out other explanations.

I havn’t shfited in god knows how long. I haven’t meditated either. And I sure as hell haven’t lucid dreamed. It sucks to kind of lose something that was such a huge part of your life, but for reasons that has made my life better. I now have a partner of 2 years, im back in school for my masters, and im generally happy with my life :). The first time i have thought about shifting, was this morning when i woke up. Something happened earlier this week that has caused me great stress (family related) and one of my thoughts were “man shifting somewhere else would be lovely” just this idea of not having to deal with anything really. This thought process isn’t healthy, and by no means should you shift to escape anything. If you choose to do this (let’s face it, lots of us have or will), just understand the consequences.

If anyone would like to hear any shifting stories, methods, or theories or just any questions, please ask! I may not shift anymore but i love talking about it :)

Thank you for reading :)

#shift #shifting #reality shifting #desired reality #desired self #current reality #alternate universe #alternate reality #shifting community #shifting blog #shifting motivation #shifting consciousness #shifting methods #shifting diary #shiftinconsciousness #shifttok #shifters #ask me anything #ask me stuff #ask me questions #auggietalks

[theaawalker]

Fandoms I'll Write For

Marvel (not Iron Man, Starlord, Loki, Thor, Doctor Strange, or Hawkeye, Drax, Victor Creed, Antman, Adam Warlocke, AG's Spiderman, or Cyclops)

DCEU (not Peacemaker, Killer Croc, JL's Joker, RP's Batman, or anyone from Gotham except Jerome/Jeremiah Valeska)

Scream Queens (not Chad Radwell or Pete Martinez)

American Horror Story (only Murder House, 1984, Freakshow, and Cult)

Hunger Games (not Gale, Maymitch, President Snow, or Cato)

The Maze Runner (not Ava Paige, Jorge, or Janson)

My Little Pony

Once Upon A Time (not Hook, David, Rumple, Neal, Peter Pan, or Zelena)

Pacific Rim (not the sequel)

Twilight (not Seth, Edward, Carlyle, or Jasper)

Stranger Things (not Will Byers, Billy Hargrove, or Jim Hopper)

IT (2017, 2019, and tv series) (not Henry Bowers or Pennywise)

Jurassic Park/World (not Owen Grady or Ian Malcolm)

Jumanji (1997 & 2017)

Zathura (not the dad or robot)

Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill)

Girl, Interrupted (not Jared Leto's character)

The Black Phone (not the Grabber or Mr. Blake)

Teen Wolf (the film & series)

Equestria Girls

Teen Wolf (not Peter, Jackson, Theo, or Derek)

The Office (not Jim, Ryan, or Dwight)

Now You See Me (not Dylan Rhodes or Merritt McKinney)

Descendants (not Chad, Harry, Ben, Jay, or Carlos)

Sky High (not Zach or Speed)

Percy Jackson films (not Luke Castellan)

The Umbrella Academy (not Five)

TMNT (live action ver. only)

Dance Moms (not the final season)

Ender's Game

Wednesday (not Xavier, Tyler, or the Dean)

Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse (not Mentor Peter Parker)

Unbreakable (not Hedwig or Dennis)

Big Hero 6

The Black Mirror

Dynasty (not Culhane, Adam, or Blake)

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

Spy Kids

Sharkboy & Lavagirl

Clue, Knives Out, & Glass Onion

Back to the Future (not Biff), Breakfast Club (not Bender), Sandlot, Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill), Mighty Ducks, The Outsiders (not Dally, Two-Bit, Randy, Bob, Steve, or Darry)

I’m willing to write imagines for underage characters so long as there's no romance (examples: hang out with the Losers Club at the barrens; go shopping with Eleven and Max; play baseball with Finney and Bruce). I’m allowed to deny any request and the longest I should take ever to write one is about 2 weeks. I’ll write smut, fluff, angst, poly relationships, LGBTQ+, etc. Generally most of my x readers are female unless stated otherwise.

What I won’t write-

I won’t write anything to do with rape, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, romance with anyone younger than 18, gun play, anything about poo(sexually), anything about urine(squirting is fine considering it’s not technically urine), age gaps. See guidelines for more details.

Thanks for reading❤️

A.A. Walker

#writer #academia #artists on tumblr #booklr #writers on tumblr #aspiring author #college #creative writing #nostalgia #on writing #fandoms #fandom list #request #requests open #taking requests #reqs open #requests are open #multifandom #fandom #my fandoms

[stray-kaz]

Masterlist

Fandom works! So much here...

All reader inserts are female.

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

T.L.C.

Girl Dad

Reds and Whites

Not Even a Candle

Reparations - 18+

Prologue   One   Two   Three   Four

Snow & Ice - 18+

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven   Eight   Nine   Ten   Eleven   Twelve   Thirteen

Frank Castle

Kiss Cam

A Touch of Crazy

Brothers In Arms

Frank Castle x Family headcanons

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

Time and Time and Time Again - 18+

A Baby Shower for Frankie

Two Pink Lines

Two to Tango - 18+

Baby Talk

Paper Ring

Blooded

The Opposite of Soft - 18+

Gone Off Half Cocked - 18+

Butterflies On Fire

A Stitch in Time

Look Where You’re Going

I Do

Matt Murdock

On Blind Faith - 18+

ONE   TWO   THREE   FOUR   FIVE   SIX   SEVEN   EIGHT   NINE   TEN

Headcanons

Steve Rogers

I Love You, But... - 18+

Shadow and Bone

Jesper Fahey

A Better Distraction - 18+ - Completed

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven   Eight   Nine   Ten   Eleven Twelve

Kiss & Tell

A Good Shot

Ruse

Little Lantsov

An Unexpected Prince - sequel to Little Lantsov

Tender

Trigger

Swap With Me - 18+

He’s A Criminal and He’s Mine

Safe Inside, Out of the Rain

Laundry Day

The Law of Loss

You’re The Reason I Hate Champagne

There Goes My Life - An Assortment

One Two Three Four Five Six

Mal Oretsev

Twice Wounded - sorta 18+

Nikolai Lantsov

Patched - 18+

All Patched Up - 18+ - sequel to Patched

Monkey in the Air

Daddy and The Fox

To Be His Queen - 18+

Kaz Brekker

Stray - request prompt

A Murder of Crows - Miniseries

Part One Part Two

Memento Mori - request prompt

Green - request prompt

Love is a Battlefield

Set, Charge, Boom

The Magpie Verses - Completed

Take Off The Mask , Caught , The Crow and The Magpie , Unmasked

Aleksander Morozova

Trouble Just Walked In - sorta 18+

Matthias Helvar

Scrubbed Clean

Tolya Yul-Bataar

Awoken

Top Gun: Maverick

Bob Floyd

A Soft Landing - 18+

Red Flag Week

Baby. On. Board.

Jake Seresin

Out of Bounds I, II, III, IV, V, VI - 18+

Bradley Bradshaw

Jukebox Jive

Lockwood and Co.

George Karim

Death and Doughnuts

A Personal Experiment - 18+

Stuck in the Middle With You - 18+ - requested

Oh Dear Baby - fic idea from @the-biscuit-agreement​

Oh How Time Flies - sequel to Oh Dear Baby​

Ghosts I Get, People Are Crazy

Anthony Lockwood

Between a Tree and a Lockwood - sorta 18+

Honey, I’m Home - 18+

Delirium

His Mistake

The Invitation

Walt de Ville

The Flower and The Serpent - 18+

one    two   three   four   five   six   seven   eight   nine   ten

Little Women (2019)

Laurie

Sugar & Spice - 18+

one

two

Zombies (Disney)

Zed Necrodopolis

Awkward Question

Betwixt

Midnight Resolution - 18+

Leo Grande

Three Day Hire - 18+

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven

A Very Grande Christmas

Austin!Elvis

Sky High

The School for Good and Evil

Rafal Mistral

The Sky Is Falling

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

Under The Blood Moon - 18+

The Heirloom and The Heir

Evil, Be Mine

You Shall Be Loved

Rhian Mistral

The Storian’s Favour

Back from the Brink

Bubbles

To Sleep and Not To Wake

Ben Hardy Characters

Billy / Four

Hold Me Close, Don’t Let Go - 18+

The Witcher

Istredd

Chasing Fire - 18+

One Piece Live Action

Roronoa Zoro

Buoyant

A Book and A Nap

Starless - 18+

First Kiss, Last Kiss

Keeping Watch - 18+

Double The Bounty - 18+ - Part One  Part Two

Sanji

Tall Blond Pacifier

Sand and Stars

Wind and Rain - 18+

Monkey D. Luffy

First Blushes

Usopp

In The Moment

OPLA Men

Dance With Me

Christmas Drabbles 2023

Scent of Pine - Shanks

Neatly Tied With A Bow - Mihawk

Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice - Sanji

The Perfect Excuse - Zoro

Fullmetal Alchemist

Edward Elric

Happy Birthday To You

Rest and Recuperation - 18+

Tale of the Nine Tailed

Lee Yeon

Need - 18+

Sweet Home

Cha Hyun-su

Sunshine Part One - 17+

Let Me Do It

A Shop For Killers

Jeong Jin-man

Breathing

Time - 18+

Misc.

Ready or Not - 18+

#liss masterlist #liss writes #masterlist

[gynarchyboi]

MsReneeLane isn't available at this time day 15

I have experimented many times with different ways to whip my sub, Butler. I like experimenting. Over the last few years I have come up with a couple of favorites. Occasionally, I cuff his hands together in front of him and use my electric hoist to stretch him in the air. In the upright position he straddles a 4 X 4 beam set so a corner points upward. If he stands on his tiptoes the beam won't rub his perineum but once he tires it starts rubbing him painfully. I stand behind him with a rattan cane I bought before I had a slave to train. Now my dreams have come true. I can see his face through the mirror in front of him. He can also see me. I want him to watch.

I have dedicated two nights a week to his discipline. Wednesday he gets a fairly high number with the riding crop. On Saturday I use the cane but a much lower number. I try very hard to keep to this schedule. I don't always dress up for it. He doesn't always need to do something wrong. I crop him because it's Wednesday. And, that's what we do.

When I decided that I wanted a surrendered male, I accepted that I would have to put in the time. The intensity of his discipline depends on his service and my mood. I admit to sometimes being capricious. However, the regularity of these sessions has proved one of the most important aspects of our lives. Now, I think we'd both be lost without these two special moments each week. If I could give a new dom advice I would recommend for her to be loving, communicative, and consistent with her discipline. Then, let time do its magic.

Date Jul 11, 2019.

#gynarchy #150 years of gynarchy #msreneelane #era: queendom #Vimeo

[watermelonsugacry]

You said YN and Harry's relationship was EXPOSED? Please say more.

Grapejuice

A/N: Double update!! Yeah so I was able to find the original post I saw a while back and thought that this was for sure how it happened.

SUMMARY: With the world knowing of their once secret relationship, Harry and YN navigate life together as an official couple and everything that comes with it. (4.6k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!reader, famous!yn

Previous Song Here! 🍣// Building Harry's House masterlist // SINCE 2010 masterlist

—2019—

One week. 

It's been 7 days since Harry and YN have officially confirmed their relationship, cutting out all the back and forth, walking on eggshells of confused feelings and paranoia. The two have finally locked hands and officially crossed the fine line of friendship, unofficial lovers and everything in between. 

It's also been 7 days since Harry has persuaded his girlfriend to go to Jonny's, one of his close childhood friends, house for a New Years Eve party with the security and reassurance that the guests attending are only going to be a couple of close friends. In simple terms, there's going to be people who aren't going to plaster the couple on social media or spread rumors about them after the night is over.

They’ve been at the party for about two hours now and it's apparent that Jonny has a different definition of “a couple of close friends.” There has to be at least a hundred people at his property. His penthouse has people flowing about it with the music blasting. Every room seemed to be filled with gold decorations: streamers, balloons, confetti, there were even some of those cheesy 2020 party sunglasses going around.

The moon has officially appeared its way into the night sky and this is YN’s only indication of the time. Her and Harry agreed to keep off of their phones for the night with the exception of calling their families once it was the new year. They wanted the night to just be focused on them two without a worry from the outside world.

YN dries her hands on the bathroom towel and fixes her hair a bit in the mirror. She runs her hands down her corset-like top to make sure it was not too tight but enough to feature her curves. She turned to the side to fix the waistband of her black trousers one last time before her white heels ring through the lavish bathroom as she starts heading out.

When she exits the bathroom, she politely smiles at a couple waiting outside. They return the gesture and both go inside the large bathroom giggling. 

Oh the joys of new year’s eve parties: sex, alcohol, and more sex.

She walks through the kitchen to the huge living room. Some people are dancing to the DJ's music, other couples are suction cupped together by the mouth and some people are simply chatting with others. 

YN goes to the kitchen where Jonny is currently mixing drinks for the people around him.

She wasn’t planning to drink the night away, but Harry's words keep flooding back into her mind, “I think we deserve to enjoy more of our holiday before it’s over, don’t y’think?” 

“Hey YN! What can I get yeh, love?” Jonny asks with a friendly smile, throwing the dish towel to lay over his shoulder after handing off the freshly made drinks.

Harry has been the one making her drinks for the night (for as long as she can remember really) mixing drinks for her when they’ve tasted too strong or way too bitter. So she goes with her one selected drink choice that she knows she’ll like.

YN blows out a raspberry before saying, “Got something old and red?”

"V'got just the thing." She smiles as he excitedly taps the marble counter before scurrying off to the cabinet just for storing wine. She’s only met Jonny a hand-full of times whenever they visit her boyfriend’s hometown. From what she’s gathered, he's a fun, out-going kind of guy who’s always throwing a party for some sort of occasion. He’s really genuine, down-to-earth, and (from what Harry told her) he cares about everyone no matter if they’ve known each other for 10 years or 10 minutes.

When she leans her elbows on the marble island to wait for her drink to be ready, she feels two large hands make their way around her waist and press their body to her backside.

“Excuse me, m’am,” she hears Harry say in her ear, a smirk creeping onto her face. “But I saw you from across the room and couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous you look tonight. Can I get yeh a drink?” 

“Sorry sir,” YN says, turning her head lightly to where his is resting on her shoulder. “But I don't think my boyfriend will like another bloke getting me a drink.” 

Just as the words finish leaving her lips a wine glass is placed in front of her.

“1982 Chateau Lafleur, from Pomerol, France for the lady.” Jonny says, giving the couple a friendly nod before being whisked away by his other guests. She grabs her drink and turns around in Harry's arms, careful not to spill the red liquid on her top. 

“Well, whoever this fella is, he’s a lucky guy to have yeh.” Harry says, towering over her. She feels his arms tighten around her back and she giggles, her neck craning as she looks up at him.

“Yeah well, between you and me,” she makes a motion with her finger to bring his head down to hers, the smirk never leaving Harry's face. “I think he’s gay.” She says into his ear and walks away from his embrace taking a sip from her drink. She laughs as he hears him groan, quick on her heels.

“Oi c’mon. Why y’gotta ruin the game, lovie?” He goes in front of her and walks backwards, taking her hand in his. 

YN hasn’t been able to wipe the smile off her face that her cheeks might be sore tomorrow. All evening, they haven’t been able to keep their hands off of each other. Whether it’s a hand on her back while catching up with some old friends, an arm over her shoulder when having a drink, or like now when they’re hands are in each others. Any chance he gets, Harry tells everyone they meet that she’s been nominated for five grammys and how proud he is of her. 

While still holding her hand, Harry sits down on an open corner of one of the couches. He opens his legs a bit so she can stand in between them. It’s times like these where she’s taller than Harry and has him looking up at her that makes her think back to other times he’s been beneath her. She giggles as she thinks of what it would be like to actually be taller than him. 

Maybe she should quit drinking now before the alcohol really kicks in.

“What’s got you all giggly, huh?” Harry asks her while tugging her to him, unable to hold back a smile when he hears her laugh.

“Harry, my grapejuice!” she laughs as her wine almost spills on the both of them from his pulling. She straddles his lap and leans forward to place her drink on the side table behind him. She feels his hand slide up and press down on her lower back to keep her there as he leans back into the velvet couch cushions. She places a hand next to his head on the back of the couch as she looks down at him. 

It feels oddly satisfying to be out in a semi public place and to be able to touch each other. Nothing too crazy like the other people around them but enough to just openly show some affection. Especially when he looks up at YN like the way he is now, with his eyes slightly pink from the drinks he’s had throughout the night and the way his two front teeth begin to nip at his lower lip while glancing down at hers. 

As comfortable as she is, she can’t help but sit up and look around to make sure no one is taking any pictures of them out of habit.  

“Hey,” Harry sits up as he looks up at her in a serious manner. “No one is watching us. They’re too busy getting drunk off their asses to even glance our direction. If anything, we’re the most tame couple here.” 

He puts a hand to her cheek to make her wandering eyes go back to him. He hates that she’s so paranoid like this. He loves his job and he knows that she loves her’s, but it’s times like these where he wishes they were someone else. Someone who isn’t in the public eye or can end up in tabloids for just walking down the street to go out to eat. 

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right. M’sorry.” YN says, putting her head down and starts to fidget with the rings on her fingers. “Just a habit y’know?”

“Yeah, I know baby.” Her eyes meet his and she gives him a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. 

“M’sorry it bothers me so much. I wish it didn’t.” 

She’s the most stubborn, head-stronged person he knows so it makes his heart sink at the fact that she’s acting this way. He’ll admit, it does boost his ego up a bit that she’s so confident about everything else but  he can make her nervous when it comes to the two of them. 

“Nothing to be sorry for love.” Harry softly taps his knuckle under her chin. “The only thing you should be sorry for is not letting me see this top before at home.” 

YN throws her head back in laughter at the unexpected statement. She knew he would like her top. His fingers haven’t stopped running over the lace texture on her back ever since she put it on.

“You really like it?” she says, already knowing the answer. The hand on her cheek now moves down to her neck, his palm resting at the base of her throat. Harry’s fingers squeeze slightly as an indication for her to move her ear to be at the same level as his lips. Her fingers peak into the top part of his black shirt and she runs them lightly over the curve of his collarbones.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” Harry says seductively. “Or do you need me to show you in another way?” A shiver goes down YN’s spine and when she pulls her head back slightly, his eyes bore into hers. 

The hand running up and down her back moves lower to rest on the top part of her bum. They both lean into each other’s touches and their lips touch for the first time tonight. 

At the start of the night, YN was very paranoid to show PDA; her hands were always cold and clammy, her fingers a fidgety mess and her overall anxiety was through the roof. She’s been trained for the majority of her career to be nothing but discreet, her management painting her with this forced “good girl” image that was hard to break out of. 

It was comforting to know that Harry cares about their relationship and has put in the same amount of effort into keeping their love a secret. So it was kind of shocking for her to hear that Harry wanted to let loose tonight and act as if their relationship wasn’t a secret. But at the same time...it also was exciting and freeing to be able to act like a couple in love in their twenties, to act like any other couple here tonight. A significant amount of weight has been lifted off of their shoulders and the night could not get any better than this.

They both have had their fair share of relationships not only being ruined by the media, but by their management. But tonight, they both feel an overwhelming amount of happiness by their actions. Nothing else matters, nobody else exists, it’s just the two of them.

The two stay like this for a while. YN stays on Harry's lap as they share kisses mixed with giggles. It’s not long before she shifts around so she sits sideways across his thighs. Harry steals some of her drink every now and then and they talk with some other guests as they pass by. They take shots with Jonny and some of his friends before she drags Harry to the dancefloor once they’ve had enough drinks in their systems.  

Before they know it, everyone begins to pile into the living room. Jonny stands on top of the coffee table, holding his drink up in the air as he begins to count down from 10.

Harry pulls YN close to his chest from amongst the crowd, arms over her shoulders as they look at where Jonny stands in the middle of the room as everyone joins in.

3...

“I love you, YN.” Harry nudges against the shell of her ear.

2...

“I love you, Harry.” She leans her head back to meet his eyes.

1...Happy new year!

YN throws her arms in the air and she yells her first words of 2020. Harry has his arms spread out beside him and he cheers with an open mouthed smile. He bends forward and wraps his arms around YN's low back. Her arms encircle his neck and they both lean in to kiss with bright, tipsy smiles on their faces. As they kiss, Harry leans forward and makes YN arch her back. Her hands go to the nape of his neck and slightly tug at hair there.

"Happy new year, baby." Harry says against her lips.

"Happy new year." 

"Let's call our mums and then let's go sneak off somewhere private, yeah? Go christen in the new year?" Harry suggests, a sly smirk tugs on the corner of his lips when she nods excitedly. 

He gives her a final peck before he reaches around to take out his phone out of his back pocket. He blinks quite a bit when he sees his manager's name lighting up his screen.

"Happy new years, Jeffy!" He yells from over the cheers and music around him.

YN's eyes go wide with drunken excitement, grabbing Harry's forearm to bring the phone close to her mouth.

"It's a new year, Jeffery! Sending love from yeh favorite Love Birds.” She laughs.

As random guests come up to YN and hug her, but in the midst of the celebration she sees the way Harry’s smile slowly tugs itself down. His eyebrows furrow and his serious gaze meets hers. Dismissing herself with a smile to a random girl, she makes her way over to her love.

"H? Baby, what's wrong?"

Harry doesn't say anything, he just looks around the crowded living room for a second before interlocking their hands. Unable to go outside on the patio due to it snowing, he leads her to the empty kitchen with the phone still pressed to his cheek.

"What's wrong?" She repeats when he hangs up the phone. He hasn’t said another word since he answered the phone. "Harry, you're scaring me."

“Jonny just exposed our relationship.” He finally says, avoiding her wide eyes. He curses under his breath and runs a frustrated hand through his hair before quickly typing away on his phone.

His words don’t fully seem real, like they weren’t even meant for her and they almost go in one ear and out the other. The alcohol running through her veins certainly doesn't help the situation; she has to blink a few times to ground herself. But once it finally registers in her brain, her heart drops right down to her feet. She quickly steps over to him and pulls her phone out from his trouser pocket. Before she could even unlock it, her manager’s name lights up the screen.

“YN?” Jenny’s panicked voice comes through the speaker. “What the hell happened? Are you guys ok? Don’t worry, hun, we’re gonna figure this out...”

Her manager’s voice drowns out as Harry stands next to his love so they can see his phone screen together. Their names are trending all over Twitter and he doesn’t have to scroll at all before clicking on a video with their names in the caption. 

They both look at a screen recorded Instagram story video of Jonny taking shots with his friends earlier tonight in selfie mode. It seems like a perfectly normal video, nothing out of the ordinary as a group of friends drink for the upcoming new year. That is until the couple could be seen in the background, YN on Harry's lap as she throws her head back in laughter. Both of their eyes widen at the sight. 

As the video goes on, Jonny’s head blocks their figures but once they are in view again, Harry's hand can be clearly seen on her bum and their heads are way too close together to pass off as friendly. Now what has them both sucking in a sharp breath through their lips is right before the video ends, there is no possible way to miss that fact that the video captures their once freeing kiss.

One week. 

It's been 7 days since they've made their relationship official and for it to be exposed.

—2020—

“We used to book a studio and be like, ‘Okay, we’ve got it for two months, grind it out.’ But some days you just don’t want to be there, and eventually you’ve been in the studio so long, the only thing you can write about is nothing because you haven’t done anything." Harry moves his hand around as he talks, his chunky rings clink together every now and then. "So with this album, we’d work for a couple of weeks and then everyone would go off and live their lives.” 

The couple was trying to stay under the radar for as long as they possibly can for the time being. The two have been keeping off of social media and focusing on solely each other during this vulnerable time, but what they didn’t know was that the Internet was going absolutely crazy over the leaked video.  Harry remembers when he went out for the first time since the new year began to go down to a hidden flower shop down in Homes Chapel.

In the small shop, there’s was a small TV hung up in the corner mostly playing as background noise to fill the plant covered space. So as Harry brings out his wallet to pay for a small bouquet for his love, the social media news reporter makes his ears perk up.

"Former One Direction stars, Harry Styles and YN YL, were seen getting up close and personal this New Years Eve. A video was released from one of the couple’s close friend’s Instagram Story with the former band members in the background. Since 1D went on hiatus, the two have been seen spending more and more time together, always claiming how much they're simply close friends and nothing more. Could this have been a spur of the moment incident or were they merely caught doing something that they've been doing for years? The pop stars’ fan base is buzzing with their opinions. Some are against them being together while others have claimed they knew this information since their One Direction days. But for the most part, the fandom is purely overjoyed by the news. Now the new question on everyone's mind is where are the couple now? And when is their anniversary?

Harry remembers politely thanking the old woman behind the counter and quickly leaving the shop. He remembers setting down her bouquet of assorted flowers with his shoes by the door at the sight of his love still sleeping in his bed. Her back bare with a thin white sheets covering her lower half, her face squished against the pillow. He remembers stripping down to his briefs and sliding under the covers with her. How can he forget the warmth in his chest as she sleepily shuffles her way close to his side, snuggling her face deep into the crook of his neck, and feeling the need for nothing else?

It was right there and then that he decided to take his girlfriend to a little villa he owns in Italy to lay low. The couple went MIA for nearly two months and after loaded discussions between themselves and then their management teams, they decided to make their official public debut as a couple at the Brits Awards. As terrifying as it seemed at the start, they both an unexpected sense of ease when being in the red carpet together, hands intertwined the entire night, and being snuggled up in one another during the interviews the host was making at each table.

Their time in Italy did them more good than they ever thought to imagine. So as the world slowly started to open their doors back up, one of the first places they went back to was the peaceful scenery of Italy.

“Are you writing a love song about me?"

Harry peaks over his writing journal to find YN leaning against the doorframe of the recording studio with a playful smirk on her face. He'a laying down on one of the leather couches in the small space and decided to write down his song inspiration before it escaped him.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. And I can tell you that it won’t be the last.”

“Well.” YN sighs as she takes a seat at the end of the couch by his feet.

“Well.” Harry mocks back, imitating her shaking her head and wide eyes.

“Lemme read it.” She says with a matter of fact, like he should have already handed her the journal.

“Um...no?”

“Why not?”

“S’private.”

“Come on, m’gonna hear it anyways when yeh put it on the album.”

Harry lets out a playful scoff. “Well that’s very narcissistic of yeh to think that yet another song about you s’going on the album.” He teases, knowing full well that it’s going to be.

His smile only grows further when she pushes her shoulder to her ear in a shrug. “Yeh rubbing off on me. Now lemme see it.”

Harry smirks when she reaches for his journal but he moves it out of her grasp just in time for her to miss. 

She keeps reaching for it until she’s practically crawling on top of him. He drops the journal on the floor behind him before wrapping his arms around her torso, trapping her between the couch and himself. He presses his smiling lips to hers and she lazily wraps her arms around his shoulders, blindly taking off the blue baseball cap off his head to card her fingers through his hair.

“Alright Love Birds, get a room.” Jeff comes into the room with the rest of the production team following behind him. For the sake of semi-professionalism, YN reluctantly crawls her way out of her sandwiched position and leaves her love laying spread on the couch.

"Wait, are yeh telling me we aren't in a room?" YN sarcastically knocks on the wall by Harry's head. "Damn it, H. Looks like we've been outside this whole fookin' time."

"Alright, alright. No need for the sass." Harry's manager puts his hands up as the room chuckles at their banter. "Let's get to work."

With a playful roll of her eyes, YN snatches Harry's journal and baseball cap from the floor.

"Think yeh dropped this." She places the leather bound book on his chest, giving her boyfriend a wink before sliding the cap onto her head and situating herself in front of the studio console.

"A line that I helped write and I feel has a subtle double meanin' is I pay for it more than I did back then. Not only am I paying more for an actual bottle of wine, but for what has happened when my relationship was publicly outed." Although her hands are out of view from the interview camera, Harry still notices from the sidelines how she twists at the ring on her index finger out of nerves. Talking about their newly public relationship was still a sensitive topic for the both of them and it screams volumes at the sight of his girl visibly (though subtle) getting anxious.

"I think we did a fair job at keeping things under-wraps for as long as we did but eh, now it's just something we gotta move forward from I guess." YN chuckles.

There's just no gettin' through

Without you

A bottle of rouge

Just me and you

With the song halfway finished, the production team has moved out to the patio area of the house the couple rented for the week. The table was buzzing with chatter, laughter and lots and lots of wine. Everyone sits around in the comfortable lounging seating that's surrounded by various vines and greenery and Harry can't help but feel a bit of nostalgia.

When the group was making his last album, they sat in similar position, the only difference this time around is that instead of Harry longing to be in Mitch's seat next to YN, Harry was now actually snuggled up against his love. With a few drinks in, he can't help but fondly look towards his girlfriend as she listens in and chats with the rest of the team.

Through his tipsy thoughts, he's suddenly overcome with the realization that he's actually in Italy with YN not merely as his best friend, not with the woman he's secretly in love with, not even as her secret on and off lover, but as his official girlfriend. During their time in the band to their solo careers, for almost a decade they've traveled to so many parts of the world that it's been impossible to keep count. But now, Italy has become the first place they've traveled together as a couple.

“YN! Y’phone’s ringin’!” Kid calls over from the doorway of the brick home. YN hums in acknowledgement as she takes her last sip of wine before untangling herself from Harry's arm over her shoulders. Before she can stand up from her seat, Harry can’t help but pull her back and cup her cheeks for a quick kiss.

“Hurry back,” He mumbles shyly.

“Ugh, I think I miss when you guys weren’t together so I don’t have to look at that all the time.”

“Aw don’t worry, Jeffery.” YN says with a sweet smile as Kid hands her her phone. “One day you’ll grow up and find love, too.” She giggles when the group makes a playful “ooo” sound to Harry’s manager before swiping her thumb across the screen without looking at the caller ID. “‘Ello?”

The team goes back to their conversation, laughing and passing around various bottles of wine. But of course, Harry can’t keep his eyes away from his love for too long. He can’t help but admire her sun-kissed sun—one of his favorite things about coming to sunny locations like this—or the way her eyes seem to sparkle under the backyard fairy lights.

But a weary feeling comes over him when he sees her golden smile dim down to a frown, her eyebrows pulling in together, and her once relaxed shoulders become tense. He doesn’t think twice about getting up from his spot as he sees her quickly hang up the phone and look down at it as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Baby?” He gently puts a hand on her shoulder and he’s taken back by the way she flinches back, startled from his touch. “YN, what’s wrong? Who was that on the phone, honey?”

His heart nearly breaks in two at the glossy eyes that blink up at him. She takes in a shaky breath and his body go cold by what she says next.

“I—I think that was my father.”

There's just no gettin' through

Taglist:

The grape juice blues

Next Song Here! 🚲

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[moirtre]

‎ ‎ ⋆⠀⠀&.⠀⠀٬⠀⠀❝ 2 : 33 AM :   EVERGREEN. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉       

one day, i will stop falling in love with you. some day, someone will like me like i like you. until then, i'll drink my coffee, eat my pie, pretend that we are more than friends. then, of course i'll let you break my heart again.⠀–— from, “Let You Break My Heart Again - Laufey & Philharmonia Orchestra”

&.⠀⠀CHARACTERS⠀⠀┉⠀⠀*⠀NAIRA CHRISTIANSEN, CARTER KIM. &.⠀⠀WORD COUNT⠀⠀┉⠀⠀*⠀2.7K &.⠀⠀WARNINGS⠀⠀┉⠀⠀*⠀suggestive content, manipulation. &.⠀⠀NOTES⠀⠀┉⠀⠀*⠀apologizing in advance. it's not heavy but it approaches being heavy. carter (derogatory) can be found at @genav0s. naira's (unfortunately) a little dumb in this one but i really can't blame her! not proofread bc i never proofread anything <3 takes place in 2019 when both of them had way too much time on their hands.

Naira feels the buzz of her phone before she can process its awakening by her side. 

Her hands, covered in the gray mush that rests on her wheel, scramble to grab onto the towel that lies discarded beneath the carefully sectioned block wrapped up in plastic. The mush splatters onto her cotton overalls as the wheel comes to a halt. The music playing in her ears mimics the wheel, ceasing to play as her ringtone fills her ears through the white headphones attached to the jack of her phone. 

She huffs in frustration as the towel sticks to her hands. Pressing against the material, she silently prays she can free up a few fingers before the call disappears. 

It’s 2am in Seoul, midnight in Bangkok. 

“Must be important,” is what she tries to rationalize in her mind as she continues the scramble.

The ringing ends before she can put the towel down. With a low curse under her breath, she relents to cleaning her other hand. Before she can pick up the phone, it buzzes with a notification.

thought i was special :(

A scoff leaves her lips, her hands clamoring to answer the melodramatic man on the other end of the text. 

it’s 2am carter

She responds, fighting off a smile that pulls at her cheeks and warms her skin. 

The late-night texts from the Canadian were nothing new between the pair. In the month or so since the two had begun whatever this was, Naira had found herself in conversation—or in his sheets—more times than she would readily admit to the other members of their respective groups. A part of her found it a bit embarrassing; how easily he could draw her in with his empty words and blistering kisses. But they were good together. So good she’d forget her name and giggle a bit too loud at his half-assed flirtations. 

It takes a simple, come over, for Naira to pull herself away from her wheel. She smiles a bit too widely and moves a bit too quickly. With a glance towards her reflection in the mirror adorning the left side of her entryway, she grabs her keys with one hand while fluffing her hair with the other. 

He doesn’t try to text her again as she makes the drive from her apartment to his penthouse on the west side of the city. Naira’s not sure she would even notice a text coming from him with the way her imagination runs wild. The embarrassment of the situation is lost on her. She can’t bring herself to worry about the chances of getting caught when she can practically feel the warmth of his body and the drawl in his voice pulling her in gently. 

Her hands shake in anticipation as she twists the key—one he’d taken her to get a copy of last week. His foyer is dark, devoid of both light and life. He had just moved in the day before she had gotten her copy of his key. She remembers the box tossed to the side of his couch; the same box she had tripped over as she lied to Sanghyuk and Romeo about her presence in the kitchen that early morning. 

The fading smell of cigarettes draws her to his room where he stands over his record player. His favorite ashtray sits on the small nightstand next to the wall of vinyl she had organized for him—by genre and artist—the last night she was here.

“What am I doing here?” 

Naira rubs at her face. The cold from the blistering wind battered at her nose, chapping her lips during her walk from the parking garage to his door. 

Her accent blends familiarly into the consonants. The English leaves her lips with the subtlest twang of uncertainty; though she’s fairly sure he senses it from the way he smiles graciously. 

They always spoke in English. Carter never cared enough to pretend to learn Thai for her. She had asked him about it once during one of their early encounters on a company trip to Tokyo back in September. He had looked away from her naked face as he told her that he felt safe around her—vulnerable might have been the word he used back then. 

Naira wasn’t quite sure she bought it then. But she couldn’t think much about it after the words left his mouth. And how could she? Not when his chest was so warm underneath her blossoming cheek. Not when his hands wandered slowly beneath the covers shielding her bare chest. Her mind let go of the thought just as quickly as she perceived it. 

She never asked him again.

Carter barely spares her a glance before motioning her over to his side. Sensing her wariness of the lit cigarette resting in the ashtray, Carter chuckles, taking a slow drag before stubbing out the flame in the tray it once lay in. With a release of her shoulders, Naira carefully crawls into the mess of his sheets, perching herself against the headboard to watch as his tanned hands skim over his collection of records.

“What are you doing here?”

He laughs at her question.

It was one of the things that annoyed her about him. Everything seemed to be a joke to Carter Kim. That distinct, perfect laugh he always managed to release made her feel smaller than she already was by his side. He’d throw his head back. His perfectly browned, floppy hair mirrored his movements; falling back, perfectly, over his face once he was done. She’d get caught up in the shine of his perfect teeth—another thing that annoyed her about him. 

Carter Kim was always perfect.

“I can’t answer that for you, hon.”

Hon. It was embarrassing the way she sucked in a breath at the release of the pet name he had chosen for her. If Carter noticed, he never said a word, continuing on in that perfect Canadian drawl he added to the ends of his sentences. 

“I called, you didn’t pick up. I asked you to come over, and you did. Don’t know why.”

She rolls her eyes playfully at that, leaning up to shove at his shoulder. 

“You know why.” She mutters slowly. 

Her hand caught in Carter’s as he continued to skim his collection. With a tug, she’s pushing herself off his bed and onto her feet. He guides her hands to the player. Having finally picked an album to play, her fingers nudge the play button at his will. French Exit’s opening track soothes out of the player so low Naira strains to recognize it. 

With a turn, Carter finally faces her. A shared glance is all it takes before her hands are on her waist—hers crawling from his shoulders to the nape of his neck—and his lips are on hers. In what feels like forever, Naira lets go of any clever quips loaded to bite back at the Libra. 

“I knew it,”—he’s deliciously breathless between kisses—“you’re obsessed with me.” 

Naira groans into his mouth, pulling away to shake her head. He’s pulling her wrist to his lips before she can think of any words to say. 

That was simply all it took for her to lose herself in him. That was what it always took. A tug of her waist, a caress of her neck, the sweeping off of her feet. 

Naira was aware of the absence of rationality every time she let him draw her in like this. She was aware of the way he tugged at her boundaries, pushing them a bit farther every time he summoned her with a text. She was aware that she knew next to nothing about him—instead, he would distract her from any personal details the same way he lured her to his bed in the first place. She had known all these things, but all of a sudden she was aware.

He bites at her neck—something he never did—and it rouses her out of her Carter-induced haze. With a jump, she pulls away from him, suddenly too aware of all the things she knew before. All the things she chose to ignore. His eyebrows furrow as the record changes to the next song. The silence between the two of them cut away at any notes lifting from the player. Their eyes catch in a deadlock, Carter’s firm hands unmoving from their place underneath her shirt, her own pulling into a fist from their place on his chest. 

“I’m obsessed with you.” She whispers. The edge of her lip twinges in realization, and his eyes remain fixed on hers. Unrelenting and emotionless. 

“Hon,” he sighs, finally breaking eye contact. His arms bring her in closer as he tries to distract her once more, “Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” 

He laughs again. Naira grits her teeth, turning her head away from him. 

“Yes, Carter.” She snaps. If he was taken by surprise at her outburst, he doesn’t let on to it. 

“I’m obsessed with you and that’s a fucking problem.” 

His eyebrows raise as his hands loosen their hold on her body. Naira frees herself from his grip, suddenly feeling uneasy in his presence. Her anxious pacing does nothing to tick Carter off. Instead, his eyes slowly track her movement away from his side to the other side of his room. 

“Why are you doing this?” Carter groans, his hands resting on his hips. Eyes continuing to track Naira’s pacing figure. 

“Because you…” Her words fail her with a groan. She can feel the words on the tip of her tongue but they don’t connect to her brain. And it frustrates her. 

“Because I what, Naira?” His voice rings out once again, this time much harsher. She makes contact with his eyes through the mirror laid out in front of her. She can just make out the furrowing of his eyebrows and the irritation set in his hardened jaw. 

“Because you’re not obsessed with me.” 

The words connect with her brain in Korean. 

The switch visibly knocks Carter off of his chilly pedestal, the shock marked in his face striking Naira. She—admittedly—had never conceived Carter could process any other emotions beyond being smug and just okay. The shock held a bit of fear she could not begin to recognize amongst his features. It was odd how quickly it all happened. How quickly he became an entirely different person altogether. How quickly she could knock him off balance and a version of himself she was sure not many people could get to.

“I don’t understand,” He resorts to English once more. Though Naira understands what he truly means, she refuses to meet him there. With a shake of her head she mutters, “Of course not.”

His arms cross over his chest, guarding himself from Naira’s words. The pensive anxiety in his eyes brings Naira to turn to face him. He refuses to meet her eyes. 

“You know, there’s only a few things the girls can all agree about recently.” She trails off, drawing herself closer to his guarded figure. “And I should’ve listened closer when they said you were a problem.”

Stoic as ever, Carter takes one step closer to Naira, towering over her as he does so. His eyes held a darkness she had never seen in him before, different from the general emptiness they usually held whenever they met up on their late nights.

“How am I the problem, hon?” He hums, his hands reaching out to brush the hair away from her face. Pulling her hair into a makeshift ponytail held in the fist of his hand, he tugs her closer to him; her legs following the yanking of her body. 

With a whine, Naira shuts her eyes.

“Can you tell me? Why am I the problem?” His voice is impossibly deep, oozing with both venom and lust in a way that shakes Naira out of her anger and back into that trance. “What happened, hon? You were so worked up a minute ago. Telling me that I’m the problem.” 

Naira sucks in a deep breath, attempting to hold on to the last amount of autonomy she can muster. It’s all too much. His voice and the way it surrounds her. It swirls in her mind, envelops all of her thoughts, and chases them off leaving nothing but him. She can smell the mint and nicotine on his breath. A smell she had come to associate with the late nights in his sheets, covered only by the thin silk and his warm hands. 

Then his lips are everywhere. Attaching themselves to her clavicle, his body bending down to meet her height. His hair tickling at her skin, his familiar clean shampoo flooding her senses. Trailing up her neck with his hands holding her to him in their impossibly tight grip. Undoubtedly, leaving a slow trail marking where he’d been along her side. Then they press against her jaw, drawing what little will she has left. 

“How could I be the problem, hon?” He hums against her skin. “I’m spoiled by you. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.” Her breath escapes her as he speaks against her lips. Low and controlled, steady in a way she could never begin to pull herself away from.

“All I can do is live and breathe you. Only you.” 

His hands move again. Falling away from her hair as if offering her release. When she doesn’t take the opportunity, they pull her body closer to his. Those wandering hands traveling down her arms and bringing them under his control. They pull hers to their familiar place on his chest. He’s a furnace, burning at her hands but so inviting she falls into line with him.

“I couldn’t let you go if I tried, hon. I’m yours.” His face cradles itself into her neck, his whispers slowly crawling into her ears. 

“I’m yours.” 

Carefully controlled desperation leaks into his tone, furrowing Naira’s eyebrows as she fights against her better interests. Sure that he’s sensed this, her hands ball into fists once more, pressing against his chest as if begging for her release from the hold he’s captivated her into. 

“Relax for me, hon.” He soothes, all too familiar to her ears. “Open those eyes for me, pretty girl.” His words pull at her will, ripping her away from her judgment and leaving her waiting for his next words. 

As if in control of her reflexes, her eyes pry themselves open, receiving the sight of his own gazing intently into hers. It’s all too much for her; his voice, his commands, his heat, his presence. It consumes her control over her own body and it relinquishes its autonomy to him without much of a fight. Her hands relax from their bounding tightness, her voice loses its edge, and tears begin to flow from her eyes. It’s all too much for her.

“There’s my girl,” Carter hums. His forehead presses to hers, a hand lifting her chin to keep her eyes on his.

“I can’t be the problem. Not when I make you feel this good.” 

All sirenic, his voice seeps into her psyche, pulling her out of her own body and leaving her defenseless. Then his lips are on hers and everything melts away. All her anger, all her control, all her confusion. Left in its place is a yearning for his touch, a desperation for his kiss.

Effortlessly, he carries her to his bed. Laying her down as he hovers over her.

She can barely breathe as he pulls at her shirt. Her mind carried away in a sea of loss. All she can think and feel and do is him. It leaves her in a daze that disconnects her mind from her words. And despite it all, she can’t push him away. 

She can’t bring herself to let him go.

#‎ ⋆⠀⠀ʬ.ʬ.⠀⠀٬⠀⠀(⠀⠀&.⠀⠀)⠀...⠀TRANSCRIPT. #ficnetfairy #fictional kpop soloist #fictional idol community #fictional kpop idol #fictional kpop community #fictional idol group #fictional idol oc #fictional kpop oc #fictional idol addition #fictional idol company #fictional kpop company #fictional kpop group #idol au #idol kpop #idol oc #idol #kpop gg #kpopidol #kpop #fake kpop idol #fake oc #fake kpop oc #fake kpop group #fake kpop gg