#( UPON FURTHER EXAMINATION IT'S STUPID AS FUCK )

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Famous Last Words

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

Summary: She'll never let him believe he isn't loved, even when he doesn't deserve it.

TW: None.

“Be careful. I love you”

She hears the snort of derision he lets out and resists the urge to roll her eyes at him lest she makes things worse. He’s like a cornered animal when he’s upset, all consuming anger to cover the vulnerability he doesn’t want to acknowledge exists. She’s worried the wrong move will make him tell her to ‘fuck off an’ then fuck off som’ more’ like he had the night before.

“Though’ ya were mad at me” He grunts, scuffing the toe of his boot in the pebble-dashed dirt, other leg poised to keep moving further away from her and closer to the run he’s supposed to be going on.

“I am mad at you, you’re mad at me too” She raises an eyebrow before scanning her eyes down, taking note of the way he’s picking at the skin of his thumb; a nervous habit he’s had the whole time she’s known him. He’s nervous, as if one fight will make her leave him, as if she’s going to suddenly realise he isn’t worth the effort. She huffs a small, understanding smile at him “I still love you, and I’m never going to risk that not being the last thing you hear me say”

He pauses at the gate, tilts his head to the side and looks at her properly, sees the way she’s looking at him wide eyed and concerned, the way her shoulders are tense. Whenever they fight he convinces himself he’s being left, talks himself into thinking she doesn’t care and here she is, mad at him, fighting with him and still refusing to let him believe she doesn’t whilst being scared he won’t come back for different reasons.

He strides forward suddenly, twisting his body to close the gap between them and slings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her in to press his lips to the top of her head. He lingers, lips against the hair he loves so much.

“I love ya”

“Be careful. I love you” She repeats, knowing the words have sunk in when he raises one side of a lip fleetingly before opening the clanking metal chain.

-

It was a stupid fight, in hindsight, the kind they probably wouldn’t have if anyone had eaten a full meal for dinner rather than whatever percentage of rabbit there was split between twelve people. Or maybe they would, because they could have twelve rabbits and Daryl would still give his up for someone else, and it would infuriate her just the same that he sacrifices his own wellbeing for them at every opportunity. She suspects it’s only half about taking care of others, and maybe a solid thirty percent just not thinking he deserves care; the other twenty percent she is entirely unwilling to examine.

It was a fight though, one that ought to have been kinder than it was. One that she wishes she could have kept her cool in, but she’ll be fucked if Daryl is the only one who gets to be angry. She stews on it, sitting perched on the solid prison cot, playing it over and over in her mind until she hears heavy footsteps outside the makeshift door. She’d recognise them anywhere, his distinctive gait and well-worn shoes that always scrape on the second step when he’s not trying to sneak. The consideration, even in his unconscious actions, is part of the reason she loves him as fiercely as she does.

She doesn’t get up, doesn’t allow herself to follow the overwhelming urge to rush towards him when he opens the bars and lifts aside the curtain. He bites the inside of his lip.

“’M sorry”

“Me too”

She moves then, coming to a stop in front of him to run her hands over the solid muscles under his shirt, checking him for cuts and scrapes, feels him exhale underneath her palms. He’s always taken by the act, no matter how long they’ve been together or how often he goes out. He remains captured by the tenderness and care she bestows upon him. He is, still, so unused to the kindness, so out of depth when the only gentleness he’s known has been a cover for malice, false sense of security so quickly followed by pain.

“Ain’t sure what I did t’ deserve ya love” He mumbles into the same spot on the crown of her head. The spot he kisses when he fucks her, the place his chin rests when he hugs her after a long day, the spot he’d patted condescendingly when he was too embarrassed to admit he liked her but needed an excuse to make contact.

Finally, after almost twenty four hours of not making contact, at least twenty three too long, she kisses him, presses her lips firmly to his, relishing the way he instantly responds. When she pulls away it’s with a smile, an always fucking present smile he’ll never get enough of, the smile that’s his.

“You don’t have to deserve it, you don’t have to earn it, its just there”

He eats more that night, sitting by the fire running a thumb soothingly on her knee as he takes a well earned swig from a bottle of water. He wants her to see it, wants her to know he's trying; and if he has to trick himself into it by thinking it's for her, caring for himself because she needs him to, then it'll have to do for now.

[melodygatesauthor]

The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 8: A Bird in a Cage

Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader

Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3

Chapter Summary

Khonshu can sense that something is different with you and he's not very pleased.

Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)

Major Tags/Warnings Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence Minor Tags/Warnings NSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!

Word Count: 2.6k

Panic struck moments after you and Marc had returned to your senses. You felt the satisfaction that had washed over you and brought you such peace replaced with fear as you felt the remnants of his cum trickling from your cunt. Quickly, you tucked your hand under yourself and stood, shuffling over to your bathroom to clean yourself.

Nothing could make you regret what you and Marc had done, but you felt stupid for doing it nonetheless. You weren’t ignorant, and it was obvious that there was something special about your blood that made younger vampires, including Marc, a little hungrier than usual, and something that made Khonshu care for you deeper than his other cattle. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to find some way to punish you if he ever found out.

And what about Marc?

If he ever found out that Marc was behind this…

“Here,” Marc handed you his shirt, “to clean yourself. It won’t look weird if my own cum is on my shirt,” he explained with a half-hearted chuckle.

You used the shirt to clean yourself, “you make it sound like that’s a common occurrence.”

Seeing Marc’s cheeks flush was a favorite game of yours, but it admittedly wasn’t hard for you to do anymore.

“Will it be hard to explain the sheets?” He asked, referring to the mess he got on your previously clean bedding.

You handed him back the shirt as you made your way back to the bedroom. Upon further inspection, the part of the bedding that was dirtied was small. You got some warm water on the end of a washcloth and dabbed the stick mess away, hoping it wouldn’t make a stiff spot of fabric in the morning when the maids came to clean it.

“That’s as good as I can get it,” you said with a sigh. You looked back over at Marc whose expression had turned sour as he stood by the window. “What’s wrong?” You asked, walking over to cup his cheek.

“I’m not sure when we can see each other again, like this,” he whispered, taking your hand in his and bringing it down from his cheek to hold by his hip. “Fuck.” He cursed through gritted teeth.

You followed his gaze to your arms where he could see bruising, and you could feel it too now that he pointed it out. Marc had really done a number on you, just like he thought it would.

“Don’t worry, I can make something up, I’ve always been a quick healer anyway” you nodded, “Marc, please don’t worry.”

You could sense the concern in his whole body, in every worried wrinkle on his face, and in his shaking hand that still held onto yours gently. He nodded, a seemingly reluctant nod, but a nod nonetheless, before he kissed your knuckles. With a heavy sigh he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in one more passion-filled embrace before he was gone through the window, as if he’d never been there at all.

~~~~

In the morning you examined your arms to see, and feel, that your skin had returned to normal as though you’d never been touched. A sense of relief washed over you as the housemaids came and started getting you dressed and taking care of the bedding. It looked like your quick job cleaning up the mess had worked, and unless they carried blacklights around with them, no one would suspect a thing.

You took advantage of the fact that Khonshu let you walk around Ammit’s guest house unattended. He’d told you that even if you tried to escape, which he was certain you wouldn’t, it was far too cold in the mountains for you to get very far anyway. Whether that was true or not didn't matter. As long as Marc remained under Khonshu’s control, so would you. 

When Khonshu’s hunger demanded your attention, he would find you in the library, sitting in a comfortable recliner with a romance novel you’d never heard of before in your hands. His face was pleasant when you looked up from the pages to meet his gaze. For a moment you thought he might be upset, you’d almost forgotten that you weren’t supposed to look at him, but when he didn’t reprimand you, you decided to keep eye contact, not wanting to draw attention to it.

“My little dove, are you enjoying your freedom?”

You gulped, nodding obediently, though you weren’t sure you would consider this freedom. Khonshu seemed pleased with himself, nodding with a lighthearted smirk to match. He held out a hand to you and helped you stand.

“Hm,” he hummed, lips turning downward slightly in what appeared to be disappointment.

He leaned in, nose brushing against your neck and forcing a chill to run through your veins. Your breath hitched, catching in your lungs. You dropped your book on the floor as he pulled you tighter against him. A low growl rumbled up through his body, his breath was hot against your skin.

“S-sir–”

“Have I neglected you for too long, little dove?” He asked, words muffled against your neck. “Is that why you betrayed me?” You whimpered when he pulled you closer, his grip squeezing around you so tight you worried he might crush your bones.

He knew.

He knew.

Your entire body was shaking against his in terror. Was this it? Was this the end for you? You wondered for a moment how quick your death would be. Was Khonshu going to drain you to death? Or would he go with a quicker approach and just behead you, keeping it simple and easy. If you were being honest, you hoped for the latter.

“B-betrayed you, s-sir?” You couldn’t seem to get a grip on your shaking body and your quivering bottom lip.

He leaned back and looked you in the eye, “you have a very distinct smell, don’t you sweet one? Surely you know that, enough of us have mentioned it.” He was smiling at you, but there was a clear hint of anger behind the facade. “You’re a very special girl.”

You nodded, knowing that what he’d said was true. You may have been a bit naive, you’d admit as much, but you knew that something was very obviously different about you in comparison to the other livestock that both Khonshu and Ammit had in their service.

“Sir please,” you grunted, trying to pull away, but his arms kept you in place.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” he cooed, walking you back until your rear was against a window sill. “I could pick you out of a crowd of a million people while blindfolded based on your scent alone, which is why I know that something is different.”

You didn’t think that the simple act of sex would change something inside of you so profoundly that the smell of your blood would be different. You could’ve cleaned up every bit of mess, and hidden every blemish, and Khonshu would’ve still been able to tell something was wrong. How could you have been so foolish to think this would get past him?

You thought quickly, “w-well, sir, we’re in a different house.” Your eyes scanned his to determine how much of your bullshit he was buying. “I’ve been bathed in different perfumes and–”

He wasn’t buying any of it.

He harshly tossed the fabric in front of your cunt aside, bringing his hips against your own so you could feel his bulge beneath his clothes. You shuttered, once again feeling grateful that Khonshu hadn’t forced himself on you, but it would seem your luck had run out.

He was fast to tug his pants around his thighs, allowing his thick cock to spring free and rest against your pussy lips. It felt warm, the head leaking a slow, sticky stream onto your abdomen. He stared at you, eyes appearing to darken like a hungry predator. If you were a dove, then Khonshu was a falcon.

“I’ve been so kind to you, haven’t I?” He asked, rolling his hips back so the tip rested at your entrance. “Who was it, hm?”

To punctuate his sentence, he thrust forward, the entire length of his cock bottoming out inside your barely slick channel. You lurched, a choked screech muffled against his shoulder as you held onto him tight. A dark snicker left his lips, a clear sign he was enjoying whatever pain he was causing.

“Was it one of Ammit’s servants? Did a lonely concubine find its way into your room while I wasn’t paying attention?” He started moving faster, the stretch of his cock aching as you clench around him.

You shook your head, “n-no sir, no, please–”

A sharp pain in your neck made your body jolt. He started drinking from you, his deep moans filling the library, which suddenly felt very small. You groaned, hoping that soon you would start to feel the ache between your legs subside, that maybe some pleasure could be found in this unwanted encounter.

“Then was it one of mine?” His hips bucked roughly, the window behind you rattling against its frame. “Was-it-Marc?”

Once again you replied, “no, no!”

You became lightheaded the more he drank, but the more he drank, the less pain you started to feel. Time seemed to slow a bit, the edges of your vision darkened. He muttered something against your throat about how wet you were, how nice your pussy felt around his cock, and how he wished he hadn’t waited so long.

“M’sorry sir, I didn’t…” 

What were you going to say? You didn’t do it on purpose? Because you did. That you didn’t know it would be that big of a deal? Because you did know. Did you really think you could tell him with confidence that you didn’t fuck another vampire without his permission right under his nose? Because you couldn’t.

“Shh,” He whispered, breath coming out in uneven, short huffs. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to, but when I-fuck, when I find out who touched you…”

The remainder of his sentence was swallowed by a deep moan rolling through his chest. You sucked in a breath, feeling him bite you again as his orgasm ripped through him. His hips stuttered forward, body trembling while he pulled you close against his body. You felt a tear trickle down your cheek. In a strange way you felt like you were betraying Marc, even though Khonshu was the one who’d been betrayed to start with.

You deserved this. You belonged to Khonshu, and you should’ve known better.

“My sweet, precious little dove,” he whispered against your neck, keeping his face pressed to your bloodstained skin. He kissed your throat softly. “I know you won’t do this to me again, I know you won’t betray me again.”

You didn’t move as he pulled out of you, his cum spilling out with him and trickling down your inner thighs. He looked at you as he pulled his pants back up around his hips. The man looked like a feral beast for the first time since you’d known him, lips so covered in your blood that you wondered how you were still breathing. Adrenaline? Fear? A nausea inducing combination of both?

“I have plans for you,” Khonshu said finally, after letting the silence linger for far too long,”plans that you cannot know of just yet.”

You nodded, damning your bottom lip for quivering and making you appear weak.

He grabbed the hem of your dress and used it to wipe the blood from his face, staring at the stain when he pulled it back. He sniffed out a laugh, eyes looking crazed with anger when he looked at you once more.

“When I find out which vampire fucked you, sweet one, and I do have my suspicions” he dropped your dress and leaned into you closer, “I’m going to kill them in the most painful way I can.”

“Sir, I didn’t–”

“SILENCE!” 

You jumped, your entire body going into shock and starting to shake beyond your control.

“I’ve lived over three millennia. Do you take me for a fool?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re very lucky that you’re so precious to me, little dove, or I’d push you through this window and spit on your corpse.”

You believed his every word, so you nodded again in understanding. He looked down at your abdomen and back into your eyes once more. An expression of disgust sported his normally stoic face.

“To your room with you. You’re not to leave until we are returning home. Your meals will be delivered to your room and no one besides your servants or myself are allowed in or out, are we clear?”

One more time you nodded, mind stuck in a daze as he departed, leaving you bloody and used on the window sill of the library.

~~~~

Khonshu’s rules were clear: no one was allowed in or out of your room while you remained in Ammit’s home.

Did that include your hostess herself? Would Khonshu be upset if he knew that Ammit stole into your room in the night while the house slept?

She had swooped in through your window so gracefully, unlike Marc who was quite noisy at times. You were still awake though, unable to sleep when you couldn’t stop seeing Khonshu’s bloody face racing through your mind. She walked so effortlessly it was as though her body carried no mass. Ammit had a way of commanding attention without saying a word. Her silence was louder than any sound she could make.

“Hello, sweet one,” she cooed, striding around the room slowly. “I heard your master will not allow you to leave. Khonshu always was the jealous type.”

She seemed amused to have you there, dangling the fact that she knew things you couldn’t possibly have known in front of you like a carrot on a string. You would play her game though, sensing your choices were limited anyhow.

“That’s true.”

You kept your eyes on her.

“When you get back to your home, you know that he will not allow you any freedom don’t you? Well,” she laughed when she realized her poor wording, “he will give you much less freedom than you have now.”

“Have you come to torment me further? Did he send you to–”

“Quiet, girl.” Her tone was firm. “I don’t do Khonshu’s bidding.” She stopped pacing and stood at the foot of your bed, staring directly at you. “You are new to all of this, so take this as my only warning.”

Your breath felt like it stopped in your lungs as you waited for her to speak. 

“Khonshu and I have been at war with one another for a very, very long time,” she started, eyes never wavering from yours. “Though we may appear amicable now, it’s doubtful that things will remain this way. We’ve always had our ups and downs.” She let out a heavy sigh. “When Khonshu and I find ourselves at odds once more, you’ll have an opportunity to change your fate. If you’re smart you’ll seize it, and you’ll remember what I told you in the bath.”

She was gone just as quickly as she’d arrived, in a blur, and in silence, leaving you with nothing other than your heart pounding in your chest, and your head filled with more thoughts than you could sort through.

If Ammit and Khonshu were at war and planned to fight, then you weren’t even sure you wanted to choose a side. You needed to tell Marc. You needed to escape.

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[cringecannon]

So we know Gortash started a thievery and smuggling network. So what about one of the thieves that works for him coming by to discuss business every now and then and it takes gortash some time to realize that every time they leave and come back, something goes missing and something they went missing previously reappears. Them just constantly stealing small random shit and returning it on their next visit just to see how long it takes them to notice. And we can all guess what Gortash’s punishment for them is but hey that’s what they want anyway so is it really a punishment? (Just don’t steal the netherstone fucking klepto that’ll get you killed)

play stupid games, win stupid prizes

The young man you work for is ambitious, industrious, charismatic, a natural born leader. You also think he’s a bit of a fool. You’ve seen it first-hand, a desire for fame and fortune tends to land people in his position in prison at best, and the gallows at worst. You’re content with lusting solely for riches. Life is so much simpler when you don’t yearn for notoriety. Not that it hasn’t found you anyway. You were summoned to his desk, showered in praises and ego-stroking the likes of which you had never seen. You humored it when he slid a contract to you. A master of thievery such as yourself would be a boon to his growing operation. He needs people he can trust to expand this network. You’d get more than a fair share of the profits, and guaranteed protection. It’s a gracious offer, and one you accept. You thank him by pocketing his golden wax seal stamp when he’s busy with finishing the contract. You run your thumb over the wooden handle in your pocket as you shake hands with him. It’s funny, you think. Such a new criminal and he’s already worried about aesthetics. Messing with him will be fun.

You check in with him monthly, and each time you manage to take something else. Keys, quills, coins, gold-rimmed inkwells, if it can fit in your pockets, you’ll grab it. He never seems to notice, and you’re amassing quite a collection. You’re waiting for him to call you out. At first it was a game, but now you feel bad for the poor thing. So inexperienced he can’t tell when his associates are robbing him blind. It’s pathetic, really. When he finally catches on it’ll be a good lesson.

One he won’t learn today, unfortunately. The fool has left you alone in his office. There’s some urgent situation he has to settle before the meeting can commence. You stalk through the room, poking through everything. A drawer catches your eye. Just slightly open, like he forgot to shut it all the way. When you open the drawer, it’s completely empty. How odd. Upon further examination, the bottom looks strange. Uneven. You run your fingers across the edges and you find it slides back. A grin creeps onto your face as you work the false bottom open. It’s too dark to see what was hidden, but it must be something valuable if he went to all this trouble. As you stick your hand into the dark opening, you think of the possibilities. His mother’s wedding ring, maybe. Or his diary. He’s so serious- it’d be so funny to know what was going on behind that broody façade.

Your fingers skim something cool and your smile triumphantly. There it is. You’d know a jewel anywhere. You wrap your hand around it, the weight of it surprising. Even more surprising is the feel of a cold metal manacle locking around your wrist. You panic and drop the gem, but the cuff holds tight. In your frenzy you reach in with your other hand, looking for a way to dislodge yourself. It’s not your best idea- that wrist is then similarly stuck. You struggle so hard the entire desk shakes, rattling against the floor. You only stop when you hear the click of boots outside the door, a cold dread settling in your gut. Your boss was known for many things, but merciful was never among them.

You keep your head low as he enters the room, the door clicking shut behind him. He’s silent as he walks around you, and you dare not move. You feel like a prey animal, frozen in his presence. His chair creaks behind you, and you hear his finger tap against the arm rest before he speaks. He wasn’t sure it would work. He expected better of you.

Your ears burn, but you stay silent. His chair creaks again, readjusting himself as he ponders aloud. What shall he do about you? Your heart drops into your stomach when he says he should take your hand. He should. Most people in his position would. You’re lucky you’re of more use to him unharmed. Very lucky. Now, you owe him. You owe him for everything you’ve ever taken, and you owe him for the privilege of keeping your hand.

You try to interject, to tell him you still have everything you’ve stolen- you’re silenced when you feel his boot against your back, pushing you forward. Your shoulders strain as your chest is pushed towards the floor. He likes you like this, he muses. You look good on your knees. You’ll no longer be making a profit from working for him. That will all go towards your debt. Along with some… other new responsibilities. Your face burns as he pushes you down further. Don’t look so angry, dear. You wanted his attention. Now you’ve got it.

[g0tmilkx3]

FOOLISH

Things were normal after their breakup. Well normal for them.

OR

Carmy doesn't have the balls to tell his family he and Syd broke up.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Arguing, Angst, Past Relationship, Toxic Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Unprotected Sex, Jealousy If You Squint, Alcoholism, Marijuana Mention

Divider: firefly-graphics.tumblr.com GIF: trainstationgoodbye.tumblr.com

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N:

I tried to remain as true to the characters as I could. That's why there's a toxic relationship tag. You and I both know what would happen if those two got together. The title is based on Foolish by Ashanti btw. Sorry in advance for any weird formatting. Tumblr is being weird but it's Posted on AO3 with the correct formatting.

The sun rose as it did any other day. When the birds sang and car horns cried to break up the melody, Sydney Adamu hustled to The Bear. Through the labyrinth she knew as Chicago she found a place that brought her relaxation and excitement. A place that raised her blood pressure while simultaneously bringing it down to a happy medium. She and her business partner slash idol (slash ex), worked tirelessly to curate the perfect dining experience. Well almost perfect. But, from Sydney's experience, they were near perfection.

A colorful knitted cap sat upon her head, her braids draped down below. With each stride, the blond tips would bounce against her back and shoulders creating a rhythm that stayed in tune with the music blaring from her AirPods.

°⋆ I’ve seen you with the lights off I’ve seen you and you think you love me I’ve seen you with your hat off I’m dreaming of a time you knew me ｡⋆

Wind swooshed around her, dirt twisted before her sending dust to scratch her eyes. Water tip-toed the rim of her lids.

°⋆ So baby, is it all you’ve got? Tell me if you got some more-ore I’m thinking of some time off, off. I’m dreaming of a time when you knew me ｡⋆

No matter how many times Chicago hurt her, she just couldn't leave. Brandished over her heart, a chain that anchored her to the city. A gold chain that she found hidden in a velvet box that was gifted to her by her ex-lover on her last birthday. Wearing it still felt stupid now, but she could never bring herself to remove it. Fleeting memories from her youth reminded her of who she once was. So strong-willed and outspoken.

°⋆ Some things never seem to fucking work ｡⋆

While she still retained much of her buoyant personality, it was becoming harder and harder to remain strong. Sanguine her lenses once were, now not so much.

“Eighty-six the foie gras chefs!” Carmy echoed, not taking his eyes off the sizzling slice of filet mignon in his skillet. He scooped up melted butter and herbs before pouring them over the scorching meat. A concentrated red stream of blood trailed down a crevice embedded in the meat.

“Yes, Chef!" The brigade echoed back, in a cultish chant.

"Eh, it was experimental anyways.” Syd shrugged continuing her prep of the day’s veggies.

Carmy chuckled sparing a glance at her as he plated what he'd just finished preparing. "And kind of illegal." 

“Are we still eighty-six-ing the-“

“Rum cake? Yes, Marcus is out today and we just don't have the coverage” He cut a small piece off of the beef and neared Syd. His voice became small as he reached her bubble. "There's a surplus of prepped dessert he made last night."

“Marcus? Out?” She took the piece of steak Carmy held out for her into her mouth without missing a beat. An involuntary moan bubbled out of her throat. “You’re unreal,” She could swear a pink tint spread across his cheeks, but he turned away to grab the plated dish before she could examine it any further. “I was just talking to him last night, what’s up?”

“His mom.” Carmy stepped aside as each member of the kitchen staff stopped by to steal a piece of his latest dish. Their eyes remained connected despite the intrusion of the staff stepping in and out of their line of sight. “I didn’t ask too much he sounded bummed.”

“Fuck, I should talk to him.” She frowned down at her station finding that most of what she needed prepped was prepped. “T, I did the veggies can you please get on the broth?” She called while wiping down where she'd just been working.

“On it Jeff!” Tina got to work as Syd made her way to the back alley removing her blues on the way. 

“Syd? I'll be right back Mom.” There was static breaking his voice up before he came through clearly. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey chef is everything alright? Carm was vague as usual…” Her eyes found the clear blue skies, there wasn't a cloud in sight. The expansive scape reminded her of his eyes. How he could convey so much to her in silence. So much goddamn information was stored in his eyes. Hidden away behind a sorrowful gaze that would forever follow Syd. His intense stare would probably follow her until the end of time. Those weren't eyes you so easily forgot.

It was a beautiful day, yes, but she had a hard time appreciating it. There was a jet gliding across the sky. She watched it ease across the pretty blue backdrop, leaving white exhaust behind it.

“Yeah my mom, she has a fever and a fever for you and me isn’t a big deal. But a fever for her…” He grumbled something she couldn't quite make out. Despite their distance, she could still feel the amount of stress he was under. He was her family. Everyone at The Bear was her family and each of them had unique relationships. “So I just decided to hold down the fort and make sure she’s doing all right.”

“Right, right” Syd turned just in time to see Carmy walking out the back door, cigarette in his mouth. Their eyes met briefly making her falter in her words. 

“Still there, Syd?” Marcus asked as a timer buzzed in the distance.

“I am,” She turned away, ignoring the burn in her cheeks. “How about I come by after work and bring you what the fam had today?”

“You the one!” He graciously exclaimed. “I gotta go, but alright just call when you're on the way.”

“Peace.” She shoved her phone into her back pocket and whipped her head to find Carmy already looking at her. Pounding just beneath her ribcage, her heart inflated with anticipation. The hair trailing the nape of her neck stood on end as goosebumps rushed up her arms. Their space remained shrouded in silence. How much time had passed? Seconds to minutes, minutes to who knows. They were rarely one on one these days. It was easier to navigate the sludge they'd gotten themselves into when other people were around to break the tension up. She wanted to leave but her legs remained still. There was something hiding. Something waiting to come out. She just felt it. So she stayed, listening to the industrial sounds of the city. The jet was now long gone, but its roar still hummed quietly beneath it all.

Carm's cigarette smoke floated past her. She quirked an eyebrow at her business partner who huffed while shaking his head. He hands her a cigarette to her which she hesitantly took. Despite not being a smoker. They needed something to break the ice these days and it sucked. In the kitchen, it was like nothing ever happened. Like they never fell in love, like they never broke up, but outside of the kitchen? Forget about it.

“Just got off the phone with my mom.” He ran a hand through his hair making it impossibly messier. "You don't smoke." He deadpanned plucking the cigarette from behind her ear and putting it behind his.

“You seemed bummed, didn't want to make it awkward.” She hesitantly chuckled before quickly looking at her feet. “Must've been heavy, the conversation with your mom. I’ve never known my Carmy to stop prep an hour to open for a smoke break."

“Your Carmy.” He muttered under his breath, hiding it behind a chuckle. "Yeah, well she has that effect on me." He stomped his cigarette out, feeling traces of guilt. Syd was never too shy to tell him exactly how she felt about cigarette smoke. She didn't mind weed though.

"Meat delivery was wrong... again." She mentioned trying to find anything to continue their conversation.

"We gotta find another fucking vendor." He cracked his knuckles, now that his cigarette was gone he needed something else to satisfy his vice.

"We do. But the guys we work with now are reliable." The two shared a look. "Semi-reliable and cheap. So we're stuck with 'em."

Another stretch of uncomfortable silence followed. More avoidant glances. More shuffling.

If only he just said what he wanted, she thought to herself. If only he'd release her by simply saying what he needed to say. She wouldn't (no) she couldn't leave without finding out why those baby blues of his were so downcast so pleading and so, so broken. But Carmy was even more stubborn after their severance, they barely knew each other these days. But this felt huge. It felt big, she could feel it vibrating that invisible cord between them. Disturbing the constant hum they sustained, even after everything.

"What'd your mom say?" She finally let her curiosity win.

There it was. His eyes flashed with something akin to fear and his lips twitched. He fidgeted even more. He was always in motion. Moving, moving, moving. “She asked to meet you y’know?” He rubbed a hand down his mouth, slowly nodding his head. He stared out in front of him, at nothing in particular. But she could see his anxiety beginning to bleed into his irises. She could feel it too and god she'd do anything to make it stop.

“You didn’t tell her?” Her thoughts were interrupted by that revelation. For the first time in a long time, she stepped into his space and caught his gaze. “Carmy it’s been weeks.” She stopped short. "No, months! Like two whole months!"

"Almost two months." He corrected earning him one of Syd's signature eye rolls. “I know, I know.” He sighed trying to drop her big brown eyes but it was proving impossible. Each time he'd find the ground or a spot just past her shoulder their shared magnetism would beg his attention. Forcing him to bare his soul.  “Look, only the crew knows. Richie just got back from vacation and I guess I just never see Sugar enough to mention it."

Carmy was still in denial that he and Syd had reached an end before Richie left. He spent the early days in a dreamlike state, hoping that he'd blink and everything would be back to normal. That he'd wake up and everything wasn't on fire and she'd look at him with the love she used to and not the resentment that now replaced it. Once he came to terms with it, Richie was gone and Sugar was far too busy to stop by, with the fresh addition to the family and all. The staff noticed but they didn't say anything. He wasn't going to say anything either. Tina realized what occurred when she saw their mirrored shame. Eyes avoidant and chemistry nonexistent. The family felt their disconnect as it trickled down to each and every one of them. Ebra was the first to slice the tension one day after closing.

"Tensions heavy." He called from a far corner of the kitchen, after a painful bout of awkward silence. "Trouble in paradise?"

Carmy's eyes met hers as she hesitantly dragged her gaze to him. If they told them it'd make it official. It'd make it real. Fuck him if he didn't want this shit to be the worst nightmare of his life. His throat was dry when she looked around the room. His heart pounded when she clasped her hands together and uttered the revealing truth.

"Me and Carm have decided to keep our relationship strictly professional for the betterment of the business." She sagged her shoulders. "Happy? Now come on let's get it chefs, we all wanna get home right?" She didn't look back at Carmy as she grabbed her cleaning utensils and escaped to the walk-in.

"Chef!" They called behind her. Tina's frown followed Carmy as he entered the walk-in behind Syd.

"Really?" He complained angrily. "Wh-wh-what are you doing? Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes searched hers. "That's how you choose to do it, Syd?"

"How the fuck else were we going to tell them? Sit them down one by one in our office. 'Oh yeah, your bosses aren't fucking each other anymore. Prepare your stations for a walk thru', that's real professional!"

He raised his voice, frustration boiling over. His face was hot with a thin sheen of sweat over it. The cool air of the walk-in did nothing to help. It only made it harder to breathe. Her angry eyes only made his breath shorter.  "Anything but that!" 

She sighed taking note of his erratic breathing. Once upon a time, she was the one that'd calm him down, now she was the source of his worries. How quickly the fucking tides change.

"Look, Carm I'm sorry." She avoided rubbing her closed fist over her chest. It felt wrong now. "I didn't mean for it to be messy, but we've been tiptoeing around each other for weeks they were bound to find out."

She brushed past him exiting their bubble. The eyes of the staff greeted her plunging her back into reality.

"Do you guys want a picture? A straight-to-DVD recording? Or what." She deadpanned before shouting. "Let's go!" She stormed to her station finishing her tasks.

This all happened after Richie left, a few weeks back. It wasn't like Carmy to just go and call up Richie during his time off. Call him for what? To give him the good news? Carmy didn't want to bother him with something so trivial and high school. "I haven't had the time to tell my family about us. Sugar took it upon herself to tell Mom about our first anniversary coming up and now… now she wants to meet you.”

Her eyes narrowed in skepticism.

Okay, so he wasn't being entirely truthful and he's pretty sure she knew it. He intentionally hadn't told anybody. He didn't want to. It'd make it feel too final. He and Syd breaking up just didn't sit right with him and he wasn't sure if it ever would. Sydney, however, didn't have a problem telling whoever. She was taking their breakup like a champ.

She frowned contemplating exactly how they got to this point. It began how any work romance started. Fleeting glances and red cheeks. Accidental touches that soon lingered. One too many hangouts that lasted way too long. One too many drinks led to a passionate and intense hookup. Then the inevitable downfall. Too much time spent with one another. Going to work and seeing each other, going home and seeing each other, seeing the best but the worst in each other. Uneven work distribution eventually began interfering with their personal relationship. They thought they could work through it, that was until it started affecting the workplace and their dynamic. One too many complaints from the staff of a hostile work environment and that was it. One of them just had to stop it. It was Syd who called it quits first, she knew Carmy would drag his feet and draw it out for a lot longer than it needed to be. Carmy didn’t have the energy to beg her to stay but his eyes said it all. She thought they fell back into step. Back to a neutral place, nothing deeper than coworkers. But every now and then they’d catch each other’s eyes or he’d get just a little too close to her and it was all so real again. But they knew better than to go back there. 

“We were together for less than a year-“

“I’ve never been with anybody for a year…” He interjected in a matter-of-fact tone. “Sorry, my family they just, they’re happy that I found someone to put up with me. It's sort of a big deal for them." It would've been a big deal for him too if only they'd actually made it a year. "God they’re gonna have a good laugh when I show up to dinner alone.”

Syd frowned looking back up at the sky. “My point is, I don’t think it should be this hard for us. You know disconnecting from each other….”

“We’re business partners.” He lamented. “We disconnect The Bear fails.”

“This place is never going to fail.” She shakes her head looking back down at him.

“I don't know Syd. Everything I touch...” He looks at her with a familiar echo of fear in his eyes. “Everything I touch fails.”

She watched him crack his knuckles, hands shaky, before walking back inside leaving her with her thoughts.

As promised after closing Syd made her way to her best friends' house with enough food for three.

"From what I've seen, that family is unwell." Marcus lightly jests. "I mean if Mikey is any indicator..." He widens his eyes trying to convey just how hectic the Berzattos were.

"Trust me Marcus I know." She sips her third glass of wine of the night. "I just wish I didn't care so much!"

"Carmy was your best friend once upon a time," He reminded, ignoring her eye roll. "Roll your eyes all you want sis. You two dated for a year, it's normal to still care about him a little bit."

Too bad she cared about him a lot. Maybe too much. "Yes, but enough to be his girlfriend for one more night just so his family doesn't rip into him?"

"I mean," He shrugs. "It seems."

"It'd be a bad idea right?" More semi-expensive wine slid down her throat. "It'd be bonkers to go along with this, especially after the whole ordeal."

She was referring to her 4 weeks of crying on Marcus' couch, in sweats post-break-up. She was always sure to clean up nice and put on a smile when she went to work, but Marcus was there through the worst of it. He'd never seen her look so small, so vulnerable as she did the first few weeks after they called it quits. She'd lay her head in his lap and cry and cry until she fell asleep. When she wasn't crying she was talking about what she could've done, what he could've done. Which led to anger and then to the inevitable crying. She'd spend the mornings before work throwing up, it only just stopped a couple of weeks ago.

"Look, I don't want you going through that again. But you seem to really want to help out Carm and what's one night?" He poured her more red wine. "You're over him right?"

She gulps down her wine instead of answering. Maybe it was the wine but she could feel water gathering in her eyes. The air conditioning blew past her cooling the tears and making them all the more real. She shook her head, annoyed with herself for crying over him, STILL.

"Fuck! I'm sorry." Marcus rushed to her side and pulled her into a hug.

"No, no it's" She laughs through her tears as she wipes the fresh ones away. "It's the wine I promise."

"I'm still sorry for you know asking that." He replied. "Especially this early on."

"It's okay, friend.” She shakes her head and sniffles as she pulls away. "It's been some months, I should be able to talk about our," relationship. "situation without crying like a little bitch."

"I don't think there's a time limit on getting over someone you loved." He replies sincerely ignoring her previous self-dig. "And if you ask me two months isn't enough time to get over anything."

"Almost two months and good thing I didn't ask you." She teased, tugging on her coat. "I gotta dip but thanks for this."

"Do you know what you're gonna do?" He follows her to the door noticing the stumble in her step. “You can stay the night if you want.”

She leans slightly to the left, eyes hooded. Her face crumbled with each passing second, the tough facade tumbling down. “I’ve decided what I’m gonna do.” She drops her shoulders. "Have an extra pair of sweats waiting though."

"Yes, Chef." He salutes weakly as a worried frown grew on his face. Watching her struggle to slip back into her Crocs helped him make up his mind. “Okay buddy you’re sleeping on my couch, come on.” He easily guided her back to the couch.

”Grab the sweats!” She shouts behind Marcus as she laid back on the cushioned surface.  

“When is it?” Her words were hushed but clear. 3 o'clock on the dot had arrived and sleep evaded her still. She tossed and turn until her phone was in her hand and his number was being dialed. It was now or never. There was no way she was going to do this sober.

Of course, he’d pick up, the insomniac. “What?” He held his phone against his shoulder as he stirred his boiling ramen.

“The-the thing." She supplies, although with no explanation her words were useless.

"Syd, I don't-"

"When am I meeting your family, who isn’t Sugar.” She explains. "The dinner."

"Ah, I get it now." He stops what he was doing and turns away from the stove taking his phone into his hand. "You're drunk."

"Okay and?" She scoffs, "Look Carm, I decided that I'll lend you a hand now so later when I need a recommendation you'll help me."

"I'd help you, either way, Chef."

"I bet." She blew a raspberry. "So, when is it, big guy?"

"When is what?" He shot back.

"Carmy" She whines his name the way she used to. It made his heart pound and a smile spread across his face. It made his conscious mind melt away, replacing his thoughts with Syd, Syd, Syd.

It made him feel vulnerable and his voice got all soft and mushy, he'd feel embarrassed if he didn't enjoy how she made him feel so much. So, with a tone only reserved for her, he made her a promise. "Sunday night, 6. I'll swing by yours on the way."

"It's a date!” She says without thinking twice. “Or no it's not a date!"

"Drink some water and get some sleep Syd." He tutted fondly as he silently wondered when the urge to take care of her would go away. "I'll bring you some soup in the morning."

Before she could respond the dial tone interrupted her thoughts. "Asshole." She muttered affectionately before tossing her phone on the coffee table and nodding off to sleep.

True to his word the next morning he handed her a warm Tupperware container filled with his signature hangover soup. They both managed to show up before any of the other staff did. Despite sleeping over at Marcus' she managed to get up by five so she could go home, change, then hustle to The Bear.

“Did you-“

“No, I didn’t.” He shook his head. “Syd come on I know you’re allergic to sesame seeds."

She shrugs chuckling to herself as she uncovered the warm cloudy liquid. The aroma wafted past her reminding her why she trusted Carmy so much with her career trajectory. "We can all be victims of forgetfulness."

"I'd never forget something like that." His words were heavy. Weighted with what they both knew but didn't want to say.

Instead of a day filled with a familiar waltz the ex-lovers shared, their routine was filled with affliction. Damaging the very foundations of what helped the kitchen run so smoothly.

"You two are weird," Richie whispered to Carmy during their cigarette break. "Did uh something happen? You two aren't you know... tweedle dee and tweedle dum-ing it today."

"We uh we-we..." He breathed wanting so desperately to tell him exactly what was going on but he couldn't. The staff obviously hadn't shared the latest gossip with him and Carmy was grateful for the rush that kept them busy for much of the day. After tonight he would but not now. "Just nervous about tonight."

"Listen I already spoke with Donna, it's gonna be small just us. We're only popping open two bottles of wine."

"It's not the wine I'm worried about it's, it's." He pressed the heel of his hand against his eye. Weary of the conversation already. "I never wanted to mix Syd in with that side of the family, of me. What if she sees mom and what she does to me and she-she just leaves" He lets all of the air he'd been holding out. "What if she decides this place isn't worth it" that I'm not worth it "and she leaves for good?"

"Carmy, you're so much of a know-it-all prick I sometimes forget that you have no experience with women." He laughs then took a long drag from his cigarette. As if Carmy's dumbfounded expression alone stressed him out. "What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

"You're not listening cousin-"

"I am. Syd isn't going to up and leave you after meeting your shitty mom- no offense." He redundantly remarks. "If she was gonna leave she would've a long time ago. The girl loves you."

"I don't know...she, we-we arent-" The confession tasted bitter in his throat, the words were on the tip of his tongue when Richie interrupted him.

"She does, every relationship has its rough patch. Some last longer than others." He muttered, blinking away the memory of his once happy family. "She's nervous too according to Sugar."

"Really?" The hopefulness in his voice made Richie scoff at his naive cousin.

"Yeah, Syd's been asking her advice and shit about what she should wear and what Donna's favorite color is. The works."

Carmy exhaled feeling the tightening in his chest decompress. "You sure?" The hopeful lilt in his voice made his cheeks burn, but he couldn't really bring himself to care.

"Yeah kid, really" He blew a raspberry. "God I hope I'm never as gone as the two of you. Just foolish." He muttered the ladder part of his sentence to himself.

“A dress?” He tries not to let his eyes linger on her long legs, the same legs that wrapped around him night after night, but he failed. He noticed her outfit choice when he picked her up, but it took a while for him to muster up the courage to say something about it. 

“I wanted to wear something different.” She tugged at the hem. “Too short? You know I'm not a dress person.”

“No, no” He finally left her legs and met her eyes. “You look perfect.”

“Bear!” His mom swings the door open and pulled him into a hug, tears already kissing her eyes. “You look so handsome, and you combed your hair?” She teased tugging at a strand. She turns to Syd, tears welling up once again. “And look at you.” She holds her hand eyeing her up and down. “Carmy goes on and on about those pretty brown eyes of yours but he did not do them justice.” She pulls Syd into a hug as Carmen darts his eyes around looking for an escape route.

"I brought you flowers." She hands the Berzatto matriarch a purple assortment of flowers.

"Wow," She eyed the bouquet admiring the color. “Oh Bear, she’s,” Donna shakes her head. “She’s gorgeous, your babies are going to be just beautiful” She turned away and entered the bustling house before he could speak. The soft sounds of Frank Sinatra drifted past their ears as the door swayed behind her.

“Sorry,” He quietly winces. 

"Don't apologize," Syd hesitantly intertwines her fingers with his. "That's what any mom would say to her son and his girlfriend, remember?" She raised an eyebrow.

Carmy let a shaky breath go, gently wiggling his fingers in an attempt to calm his nerves. "Right, I just. I think I need a second outside."

Syd frowned before tugging the door closed and turning towards her counterpart. Her hands rested on his sweater-clad shoulders, forcing him to direct his full attention to her.

"Carm, just relax. It's just a dinner, we can leave whenever you want." She frowned when he shook his head, eyes blinking rapidly.

"M-my family, my mom. Everything is fucked... you-you see what happened with-" He couldn't say Mikey's name right now. It'd break him and he wasn't going to cry in front of Syd. She probably already thinks so lowly of him, after everything he put her through. He still felt indebted to her. "And I just don't want you mixed up in that."

"Well, good news! I'm black and I like to mind my business so we're golden. Now let's go inside, it's getting chilly." Carmy surprised himself with laughter making Syd crack a prideful smile. She grabbed his hand once more finding it a lot less shaky.

The dining room table was grand, littered with masterfully prepared dishes. The gift of cooking obviously ran in the family. Each of them took their place at the table. Syd's eyes trailed the room, beginning at the head of the table and moving counterclockwise. There was Donna who was on her third glass of whiskey followed by Sugar. Sugar's eyes were worried as she looked at her husband, Peter, who held their new addition in his lap. Next to Peter was Carmy who hadn't looked up from his plate yet. At the end directly across from Donna sat Sydney. She was a natural against the brut energy Donna gave off. Across from Carmy sat Richie who was going on and on about some MMA fight, his mouth filled with pasta. Sydney commented on it twice in disgust. Following Richie was Fak who wasn't invited but heard about the dinner and just decided to show up with some girl who seemed to mirror his energy.

Things continued smoothly as time lazily dragged behind them. The much-awaited grand finale usually took place during dessert. Donna was soon to amass their attention. Carmy braced himself as they all dug into their desserts. A nervous glance was shared between him and Natalie.

The lack of conversation could be heard. Silence in the Berzatto house was always so, so loud. The Berzattos were not quiet people, even Sydney knew nothing good lay ahead.

"So Sydney!" Donna began fondly, now beginning to consume her seventh glass of alcohol. She'd begun mixing brown and white two cups ago. "I want to know more about you, who is Chef Sydney the girl who stole our Bear's heart, and put up with him for a whole year!"

She could feel the shift in Carmy's energy, which naturally threw hers off but she quickly recovered.

"I'm from here, erm Chicago. And I've loved cooking since I can remember." She gives the blond woman a tight-lipped grin.

"Short, sweet, and to the point!" Donna chuckled, loudly. It went on for a second too long. "You gotta tell me, what's your secret for dealing with a basketcase like Carmy Berzatto? Because I tell you.."

An awkward silence descended down the table until it reached Sydney, who brushed it off easily. She glanced at Carmy, his eyes avoided hers as discontentment filled them. Upon closer inspection, she could see anger beginning to turn his face red. "Actually, it's been pretty easy." They matched eyes before she confidently turned to Donna. "He's an amazing person. He's attentive and caring he always takes time to listen and he's a big softie beneath all of that... machismo" She teased. lightly. "I've never worked with a chef so dedicated. So gifted-"

"Gifted?" Donna quirked a brow, almost mockingly.

"He cooks like... like nothing I've ever seen before, well 'tasted' before. I don't think he's ever made a bad dish in his life. It's what made me fall in love with him." His smile was small but present. It was reserved, only for her to see.

'You mean that?' He just barely tilted his chin.

'I've got you.' She gently nods once.

“Our big successful chef.” Donna interrupted their silent discussion. Sydney turned to her as her smile morphed into an unwelcoming snarl. Where fondness slept envy roared alive. “Too big to come and say hi to his mama bear.” Her fork clanked against her plate. The sound was reminiscent of swords being drawn, ready to head into battle.

”Hey, Donna could you tell me the tiramisu recipe?” Richie attempted to steer her attention away. "It's good as hell! Fak pass me the dish-"

”Ask bear!” She grinned at him. “It’s Mikey’s recipe the one he came up with alongside Carm!”

The table sat still, each head hesitantly turning towards Carmy. Richie found the table while Sugar attentively examined Donna. Peter examined Sugar, their babbling baby in his arms blissfully unaware of the building tensions. Sydney didn’t know why but Carmy looked so small. Not like himself. Her hand reached for his under the table, his touch made her shiver. Slowly, she pulled his hand to rest in her lap, cupped within hers. She placed her other hand above his cocooning his hand in her warmth and protection.

He sighed deeply as he looked into Sydney’s encouraging brown eyes. He remained looking at her as he spoke. “Mikey loved using half heavy cream half coconut cream. We figured it out one day when we didn’t have enough heavy cream," He finally gathered the strength to face his mother. "It came out perfect and we never changed.” Appreciative sounds filtered around the table.

“Oh, Carm.” Donna's laugh grew until it drowned out the room's quiet chattering. Her laugh dangerously teetered towards the sound of crying. The longer it went on the more Syd questioned if she was actually laughing or crying. Donna's hair covered her face and her hands trembled as she vibrated with sarcastic joy. “You are so special!” She clasped her hands together sending an echo around the room. “So special that you missed your own brother's funeral!” Her throat churned out louder and louder gurgling laughter until she fell into a coughing fit.

"Here Mom let's drink some water." Sugar handed her the cup of water Donna refused to touch all night.

"I don't need water!" The liquid splashed Natalie's legs as it fell to the ground under Donna's hand. "Go be useful and start the dishes!" She waved her hand behind her, not bothering to spare Sugar a passing glance.

Carmy exited the table, escaping from the world he so desperately wanted to leave. Donna was none the wiser, the alcohol content in her blood had exceeded normal levels and only her words were important in this moment. Each face surrounding the table was shadowed by the light of her vigor. Her stage was set and she was not going to let the moment pass without earning a standing ovation. Sydney turned to Sugar who darted her eyes in the direction Carmy went, silently telling her to follow. Which she did.

He sat on the steps of the house face buried in his hands. Without looking up he stuttered out. "P-please just leave, you shouldn't" He shook his head looking out at the street in front of him. "I never wanted you involved with this part of my life. Now you see why."

"Carmy." She slowly squeezed next to him, gently grasping his shaking hands almost instantly stilling them. "You are not your mother." She ducked her head catching his red eyes. His lashes were wet and his face flushed. "You're you, you're one of the best chefs at the best restaurant in Chicago if you ask me."

That earned her a chuckle, which she enjoyed. Warmth radiated through her chest when he grinned at her, despite his tears.

"How do you always know what to say?" He knocked her knee with his.

"Because, Chef, you're my Executive Chef I'm supposed to know you inside and out."

That seemed to sober him up and dry his tears. He'd forgotten that they weren't where they used to be. Not at all. Still, the words she used to effectively end their ten-month relationship replayed in his mind when he'd sit alone with his thoughts for too long.

"I think we just need to set some boundaries."

"Boundaries?" He repeated incredulously, tilting his head. "What do you even mean by that Syd?"

"We can't be together and run The Bear together, it's not working."

"Syd, you sound-"

"I sound what Carmen?" She narrowed her eyes challenging him.

"Afraid." He replied honestly. "You're just afraid, but that's okay because I am too." His hands wrapped around hers, pulling her closer to him with a gentle tug. Brown and blue watched each other, their noses brushed. His lips ghosted across hers and they tingled at the feeling. She was feet away from him when he blinked again, pulled from the haze they often created when in close proximity to one another.

"I'll clean out my drawer tonight." She left out the door before he could argue. He watched her go. That was all he could do. She left him, his lover, his soulmate, the one thing he thought he'd gotten right... she left him.

"Earth to Carmy." She snapped her fingers pulling back his focus. "Dude you gotta stop staring at me like that." She teased but he saw her throat move alongside a nervous gulp.

"Sorry, I just..." He shrugged. "I'm just happy that you're in my life still after" He waved his hand. "After everything. You're the only sure thing I have."

These were the times Sydney felt her defenses were down. That all of the hard work she put in to get over him was simply a farce. A mask she wore to avoid the deep-cutting pain that their separation left her with. He just had to look at her, sick those intense eyes on her and she was suspended in his delicate grasp. He was saying so much. Professing his love, apologizing for whatever, begging her to come back. She felt it all, she read it all just from a simple gaze. She hadn't realized her eyes had fallen closed until his nose brushed up against hers, and her lungs sucked air in begging for the burning to stop. She could feel gentle bursts of air tickling her glossy lips and he'd begun to feel a hint of stickiness rubbing against his.

"Carmen!" Donna burst through the door ruining what they'd just created. The rest of the dinner table was in tow. Their faces were worried, they'd obviously been trying to talk her out of going outside. But Donna was a Berzatto and you didn't tell a Berzatto what to do. "I just came to apologize." She stumbled forward as Carmy stood to his feet to catch her. "I ruin everything." She sniffled, mascara-dyed tears trailing her face. "I'm sorry Sydney." She turned to the stunned girl, nearing her to pull her into a hug but Carmy grasped his mothers' arm pulling her back.

"Let's go to bed ma." He began leading her back inside without another word.

Syd watched them go, feeling pangs of sadness in her chest as Carmy and Richie helped her to bed.

"Claire said she was sober the last time she came to dinner." Fak's friend, Kelly, whispered her statement to Fak but Sydney heard. Sugar knew that Sydney heard because her eyes widened along with hers.

"Wait, Claire? As in Carmy's ex-whatever?" Syd questioned as her brow twitched, the warmth that spread across her face was due to something other than nervousness now.

"I feel like I said something I shouldn't 've." Kelly's eyes widened as they bounced between each of them. She awkwardly cleared her throat before slowly turning away and walking back to the dining room.

"Hold on, come back-" Sydney started to follow her but Natalie stopped her.

"A few weeks back Carmy brought Claire to dinner," She informed her before quickly adding, "He said it was innocent and they just randomly ran into each other."

She shouldn't care. She really shouldn't. They weren't together anymore and this was all fake. He had his own life and he was obviously living it. She had her own life and she had to start living it sooner or later. It's her fault for thinking highly of a man with deep-seated mommy issues anyway.

"It's fine." She pressed her lips together in a thin line. If Sugar was Carmy she'd be poking and prodding her for additional information. She'd see right through her mystique and ask what the fuck was up. But Sugar was not Carmy, she accepted Syd's answer and went back to the dining room.

The man of the hour walked back in, his face drained of energy. Richie patted his back before leaving for the living room. She wanted to be angry at him, but fuck he still held the key to her heart and he refused to return it. The fucker.

"Let'g go." He said just above a whisper and they went.

The car ride was quiet, aside from Carmy's outdated radio that played early 2000s pop through static. It wasn't until he pulled up to her house that the silence was sliced open. 

"Okay, what is it?" He shifted gears and turned to her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She crossed her arms. He kept secrets she could keep secrets too.

"Sydney..." He huffed. "Please, just tell me, it's been a long day."

"Fak's friend said that Claire was at dinner with you and your family a few weeks ago?"

He paused pursing his lips. "Yeah, we uh ran into each other and-and she's a family friend so" He shrugged.

"Right, right" Sydney slowly nodded, her patience was running thinner by the second. "So, just a silly question!"

Carmy braced preparing himself. "What's up?"

"Why didn't you just bring her to dinner? I could've fucked off and spent my night with someone else. With Marcus or-"

"Marcus?" He cut her off. "What is it, are you two together or something? I've noticed how close you two have gotten." He challenged. "Funnily enough it was right after you left me."

"That's none of your business Carm!" She rolled her eyes, deciding to not dignify his accusation with a response. "I'm just saying, next time bother her with your odd jobs. I'm sure she's great at jobs!"

“Look nobody twisted your arm, okay?” He ignored her crude joke, voice raising only slightly. But in the tight space of his car, the smallest inflection made all the difference. He knows better than to raise his voice at her. “You willingly came."

“You might as well have twisted my arm! You put on that forlorn face. The one that makes you look like a wounded puppy-“

“Nice” He scoffs. “Really nice. Look just go, get out of my car.” He reached across her and opened the door. Her perfume clogged his nose and all he could do was think about how angry the smell made him. How she took it away and dangled it above him day in and day out. How she didn't even leave so much as a t-shirt with her lingering scent. One he could press against his face and inhale on the nights he missed her the most. He couldn't stop thinking about how someone else was enjoying her scent instead of him. How someone else got to see her more than him and listen to her ramble on and on about cooking and anything else that popped into her head. He couldn't help but feel bitter, it should be him.

“Yeah, whatever” She slams his door and rushes towards her apartment. On days like these, she wished her dad was behind the door waiting for her with his comforting smile. Ready to soothe whatever ill feelings she was experiencing. But when she unlocked her door she was met with darkness and silence. She was alone.

She’d just taken her shoes off and thrown her purse on the kitchen island when she felt a shift in energy. The air was thick and a creek sounded from the front of the apartment. He sighed heavily, it emanated from the cracks in the door. He knocks softly as if he didn’t want her to hear.

She stared at the partition, internally debating on what she should do. Perhaps if she stood as still as a statue, he’d surmise she was in the shower or didn’t hear him and leave.

“Come on Syd I know you’re there.” His thick accent made his words stick together.

“Weirdo.” She muttered sauntering to the door and swinging it open. Ugh, there goes those eyes again. 

“I heard that” He brushed past her and into the dimly lit apartment. “Look, I-“ He shakes his head, placing a closed fist over his chest. They hadn’t done it in a while. It felt way too intimate after their breakup. But drastic times called for drastic measures. He must've known how easily that'd make her turn to mush. “I’m sorry. Sorry I yelled and guilted you into coming to dinner and for being shitty in the car-“

“Woah woah woah slow down Carm” She meets him further in her home, clicking on a soft light. The golden glow created a halo above his head. “You call that yelling? I’ve endured much worse from you.”

“Unfucking believable! “ He throws his hands in defeat. “Can’t you just be quiet for like 10 seconds while I apologize? “

“Oh, this is an apology“ She points to nothing in particular. “It's great Carm, keep going!” He released a heavy sigh through his nose. Her brown eyes reflected the light and softened her hard gaze. Her deep skin glistened under the low lighting making her appear enchanted. Like something out of a Renaissance painting.

“God, you’re insufferable and stubborn." How could someone so breathtaking get under his skin like this?

She ignored the clarifying beauty he naturally possessed, nothing was going to distract her from what she needed to say. “You’re neurotic and have anger issues! Maybe take a therapist to dinner next time.“

“I wish I never fucking hired you!” He yells.

“I regret ever walking into that shithole!” She fires back.

He breathes taking in the gravity of her words. “So, that’s really how you feel?”

She ignores his inquiry because no she doesn’t feel that way. She counts the day she walked into The Beef as one of the best things that ever happened to her. But he didn’t need to know that. “Look I was waiting for the right time to tell you but," She takes a deep breath, preparing herself. "I’m leaving.”

“What? The Bear?” He felt like he’d just been gut-punched “I don't understand. You can’t leave?”

“I’m leaving, Carmen.” She stands her ground, on trembling legs, but she still stood her ground.

He blinked a few times feeling tremors of anxiety climbing his arms. “W-when?”

“Next month.” Her voice cracked. "I was offered a great position in LA and I'm staging there soon. Look, I've been scouting CDC's and I found a reliable one. He's hard-working and... Carm?"

He hadn't realized he was shaking until she gently touched his forearm. He jumped away as if her touch burned him. Their uneven breathing filled the room with sound. The distant sounds of cicadas screamed outside and the air conditioning clicked on before she decided to continue speaking. “Carm say something?”

“You can’t leave.” He repeats which made Sydney rolls her eyes. 

“I thought once upon a time that I’d never leave. That you… that we’d have The Bear as our baby forever but,” She blinks back tears, she’d die before he’d get to see her cry. “Things change and people change. Plus you just said you wish you never hired me."

“So this is it?” He mutters giving her those pleading eyes again. “That’s just it for us?”

“Yeah,” She slowly nods, brushing her hand over his. No matter what went on between them they seemed to have a force between them. Pulling them closer and closer without either realizing it. "This is it, I'll be out of your hair in a month.

“This can’t be it, Chef,” He says mere inches from her face. His eyes trail to her lips that sat waiting for him. “Look, I-I need you.” She could only gulp feeling the intensity of the situation set in. After their breakup things were sore for a while but they had lives to live. They never had a chance to double back, to have one last hoorah before lights out. "Sydney. I thank god every day that you walked into The Beef and accepted that position. I don't want you out of my hair."

“You don’t need me-“

“I do need you.”

"The Bear was always yours."

"It's ours. I can't imagine sharing it- this, with anybody else. Sydney." He slightly shook his head. "Don't do this, baby."

Maybe it’d undo all of the work they put into trying to hate each other. Trying to forget about the other's touch or the feeling of their lips on each other. But they could no longer deny what they wanted to do so badly. His hands still felt right around her, pulling her closer. His lips still fit perfectly against hers. She still loved to jump up into his muscular arms and wrap her legs around him. He preened at the feeling of her back in his arms like this, kissing him like nothing ever happened. She sunk into the soft foam of her bed as he laid her back and proceeded to climb over her. His mouth hovered over hers, hesitantly he opened his eyes in an effort to read her. The girl who stole his heart (and one day his last name) was still so hard to read. But at this moment she was open her eyes were honest. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Carnally. His yearning was near animalistic at this point. Not being able to kiss her and taste her for seven and a half weeks was making him go crazy, but here she was. His fix, waiting for him to make the next move.

"Syd, I...I don't want this to be just sex." He confessed. "I want you back. I'll do anything, I'll change anything. Just please, don't leave me." Her brown eyes flashed with something he couldn't put his finger on but her smile made his heart flutter. Her hand was soft as it gently ran over his ear and neck, despite the burns and cuts she endured over the years. He recalled her once saying shea butter kept her hands soft. She always smelled of it and this time was no different.

"Let's just enjoy this, yeah?" She leaned up kissing him as her arms pulled him against her body. His mind yelled at him to stop talking and enjoy the moment, but how could he if she was just going to walk right out of his life after?

They touched and kissed and rubbed against each other until Syd found herself on top of him. Her heat pressed against the stiffness that pressed against his jeans. Her sounds were intoxicating when his hands gripped her hips and controlled the speed of her gyrations. Over and over again she ground against him chasing sweet pleasure. He could stay like this forever. They both knew that. He never came in his boxers until she walked into his life and sat in his lap. She pulled away, desire in her eyes as she worked to open his jeans.

"Boles de Picolat." She says as her warm hand wrapped around him and began moving up and down.

"Fuck" He groaned. "Are you seriously thinking about the menu, now?" He panted already seeing spots. He hadn't had sex or even masturbated after their breakup, so he was embarrassingly close to coming from less than ten strokes of her hand.

She slinked down his body and made him curse god as her warm mouth sucked him in. His eyes rolled when his leaking tip pressed against the back of her throat. Her velvety smooth mouth swallowed him down as her throat gagged from the spurts of come dripping out of him. "Sorrysorrysorry" He wasn't sorry. His hips twitched as she continued worshiping him, he was still hard and ready to feel her all over.

"I didn't want to forget." She giggled innocently, his dick still twitching in her hand which made Carmy feel all types of hot. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him so he could kiss her. He tasted the saltiness of his release lingering on her tongue, but he didn't mind. "Also don't apologize. The point is to come." She yelped when he rolled them over. His shirt was the first to go followed by her cardigan. Her dress came off as he leaned back down to kiss that adorable smile off of her face.

"How many?" He questioned as he kissed down her body. He could smell her arousal mixing with the mango and vanilla of her perfume. He kissed her clothed valley, feeling just how turned on she was through the lacey fabric.

"How many what?" She questioned.

"How many times do you think I can make you come?" He used his finger to push her panties aside so he can finally taste her. He moaned like a little bitch when her tangy cream melted on his tongue.

She whimpered, trying her hardest to keep her legs open but it was becoming harder with each pass of his tongue. Her thighs were pressing against his ears, vibrating in no time.

Like the ocean kissing the shore, he rolled his tongue over her swollen bud relishing in the high pitch sounds mewling from her mouth. He loved her like this. She walked around The Bear like she was the toughest thing out of Chicago. Never taking time to relax and rest. But Carmy knew just how to sedate her. He knew how to turn her brain to mush so she had no choice but to relax under him. He hadn't realized he'd forgotten to remove his rings until his fingers were knuckles deep inside of her, but by the volume of her moans, she didn't mind. She constricted his fingers as he pressed over and over against that sweet spot within her. He pulled back to observe at her pulsating entrance mesmerized at the beauty of her body. God why the fuck was he jealous of his own fingers. Her hips jerked and her cunt pulsated rapidly as her first orgasm washed over her.

She didn't have time to fully recover. When she blinked he was lining himself up at her entrance, his red, leaking tip rubbing her over throbbing clit.

"Carmy,-" She began, tone unreadable. As it usually was. She was always so worried. He cut her off by shoving his fingers soiled with her pleasure into her mouth. She deserved to experience how good she tasted.

"Sh, just enjoy it." He slowly pressed into her loving the dazed look that overtook her face. She nodded obeying his command as he began gaining pace. He removed his fingers when she moaned filthily head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Fuckfuckfuck" She breathed already feeling another orgasm climbing her body. His pace accelerated pulling her leg a bit higher on his hip so he could fuck her through her second orgasm.

"That's it" He encouraged against the shell of her ear. "Let go, love." His groan matched hers as she squeezed him, writhing through another orgasm. Her moans were growing louder and louder as he continued fucking into her at the same pace. Her thighs were touching her belly now as his hands held her legs up. A simple glance down at his hands commanding her body made her sensitive rose throb with pleasure. "Again, already?" He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Fuck you-" Her words were cut off when he adjusted his angle and found some hidden button that made her words slur into unintelligible stuttering. He grinned watching her let go again, this time pushing him closer to the edge.

"You're so beautiful" He panted feeling his orgasm creep up his body. "You're my beautiful- fuck- my beautiful girl, all mine." He let an embarrassing noise echo through the room as he released long white stripes inside of her. She met his thrusts wanting to draw his orgasm out as long as possible. His throat was raw as he gulped down air trying to regain his composure but tremors of his release were still running through his body like an electrical current.

Later that evening they lay beside one another in her bed. She rested against his chest and he inhaled the sweet smell of her hair feeling his heart burst. Then something hit him.

"Earlier you started saying something but I stopped you," He could hear the tiredness in his voice. "What were you going to say?"

She hummed drawing a circle on his chest with her finger. He kissed her forehead. Since he'd gotten her back in his arms he couldn't stop adorning her face with kisses. "That I uh...I was just gonna say, I love you."

He figured. It still freaked him out how well they knew each other. "I love you too."

[camillecrellin]

Can u write shiv x f reader and make it angst

The Hardest Decision — Shiv Roy

Synopsis: Tom made a ultimatum with Shiv: exclusive or no marriage. Shiv made a choice, admittedly a stupid one, but that meant she had to break up with you.

A/N: It's another break up one... I'm so sorry I just thrive on the sadness and angst

Word Count: 640

Warnings: swearing, drinking, open relationship, Tom Wambsgans being an asshole, break up

Siobhan Roy made the second worst decision of her life marrying Tom Wambsgans. The worst decision was the agreement she made after: to stay exclusive to Tom.

Tom and Shiv's marriage only flourished because of their secret side relationships. However, Tom started to feel sidelined and misused, resulting in them agreeing to quit their extramarital affairs.

At the time Shiv didn't think she needed to worry, and yet she couldn't stop thinking about how she'd have the guts to tell you.

But here she stood, outside of your house, playing with her hands as she waited for you to answer the doorbell.

Opening the door, you eyes lighted up upon seeing Shiv. She hadn't told you she was coming. "Hi." You extended the door for her to come in.

Shiv barely acknowledged you, knowing she'd tear up as soon as she'd catch your eyes.

"I'm sorry, my place would've looked a lot nicer if I knew you were coming." You apologised as you walked further into your apartment.

"It's fine." Shiv muttered, taking a seat on the ledge of your sofa.

Walking over to the bar, you held out a bottle of red wine, presenting it to Shiv. "Drinks?"

"Oh, yes please." Shiv nodded, her eyes yet not to have catched yours.

Pouring out a drink, you tried to examine Shiv's face but only when you handed it to her could you. "Are you okay?" You asked with such concern in your voice than Siobhan had ever experienced in her life.

"I'm fine." Shiv responded, taking a sip of her drink. However when you touched the Roy's arm, you felt her crumble.

Her gaze met yours and her eyes immediately watered. Running a hand through her hair, Shiv apologised twice.

"It's fine." You reassured her, taking her hand in yours and stroking your thumb over it, making her relax under your touch. "You can tell me anything."

"I don't think you wanna hear this, Y/n." Shiv adamantly said, begging you to not let her carry on. But you replied, "You can tell me anything. I promise."

Shiv nodded, taking a sip of the wine. The burning sensation doing little to numb the pain of what she was about to say. "Uh, I have news... And it's not good."

"What do you mean?" You stuttered out.

"I'm sorry."

You furrowed your eyebrows, asking, "What for?"

Shiv sighed, preparing herself before saying, "We have to break up, Y/n."

You removed your hand from Shiv's arm. "What?"

"It's Tom, I just, I can't lie to him... We made a stupid fucking agreement." "I was not thinking at the time... I completely fucking forgot that I would have to tell you because I'm stupid and so... I'm sorry, Y/n."

"Okay..." You nodded, completely spacing out from Shiv's words.

"Okay?"

"Okay..." You repeated, tears brewing in your eyes as you looked anywhere but Shiv. "It's fine, you forgot about me, it's cool. Real fucking cool, Shiv. It's not like you just didn't love me."

Shiv looked at you in anger and wiped the tear trailing from her eye. "Don't say that, I've always loved you I just can't anymore." "You know it's Tom."

"Fuck Tom, Shiv!" You yelled. "You have your own fucking agency. You get to chose who you love."

"You know this is tearing me apart." Shiv said, cupping your cheek.

"I know..."

"And it's always been you, Y/n." Shiv said, stroking your tears with thumb. "And I'm sorry..." Shiv choked over her words. "I love you, I just can't be with you anymore."

"I know." You nodded, letting the tears fall freely from your eyes.

Moving in you kissed Shiv for one last time, making sure to savour every moment, before you broke apart.

"I love you." Shiv muttered against your lips, her forehead resting on yours.

"I love you too."

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Sailor's Folly: Part 2

A/N: Part 1 did not feature much Buggy so I made myself write a part 2 in the hopes people would be interested now that it had our favourite blue haired menace in it.

Previous chapter, Next chapter

“I’m Buggy, Buggy the Clown.”

Those words had echoed in your ears, your eyes widened slightly as you remembered where you had seen him. His face had graced many wanted posters that you had seen in your travels previously. How on earth could you have forgotten that blue hair and facepaint? You could have almost slapped yourself for being so stupid, he was one of the most famous pirates in the East Blue. You mentally blame it on the rum for not initially recognising who he was. Buggy sat there with a smug smirk on his face as he could see you finally recognised who he was. You took a swig of your rum and cleared your throat.

“I only know Blackjack I’m afraid… Captain.” Your voice was soft as your addressed him, you knew how powerful and revered he was amongst the pirates here and you did not want to upset him. Your soft voice like silk calling him captain was enough to almost make him shudder, he wanted to play with you know and he wanted to add some interesting stakes to your game.

“Blackjack is fine, Doll.” His smirk was wide and his eyes glistened. You pulled all your errant cards back together, shuffling them in your hand. Your gaze never left his cerulean eyes, feeling his gaze hot upon you, you did not want to give him a reason to get an advantage over you, now that you knew who he was.

“I’ll deal then shall I?” You question softly. A soft nod of his head was all the confirmation you needed and you dished out the cards, two each, your goal was to see who would end up closer to 21 than the other. You both held the cards in your hands and examined them, yours were an Ace of spades and a 6 of hearts, 17 altogether. It was a solid hand; you could gamble and ask for a hit for another card but the stakes were not defined yet, so you were hesitant to take a gamble, unsure as to what he would ask for if he won.

“So what are the stakes then, what do I get when I win” Your voice cocky as if to call a bluff that you would win, this was not a game where you would want to show insecurity. Buggy cleared his throat and began to answer with that dazzling smile of his and a cheeky glint in his eyes.

“If you win, I will pay your bar tab, heaven knows you will have racked up a good one by the end of the night at this rate “He chuckled and nodded to the nearly empty bottle of rum you had, it had only just started to make you tipsy. A devilish smirk appeared on his face. “Though, if I win, I want you to join me on my ship for a private drink.” Before you could even protest he placed his cards face down on the table and held his hands up in defence. “I promise nothing untoward my darling, just a private drink away from prying eyes to get to know you better.” His eyes glistened mischievously as he smirked at you, picking his cards up and contemplating them once again, you almost blushed at his smile, you thought he was beautiful, and it wasn’t the drink talking either.

True your bar tab tonight would be fairly substantial, it would hurt your purse, but you would survive, although a free night of drinking was alluring. You pondered your options and decided to take a gamble, the rum may have spurred you on further but fuck it, you were always a risk taker.

“let’s do It!” You smirked glancing at your cards. “Best 2 out of 3 sound fair to you?” You gauged his reaction and was not surprised to see a giant smile form on his face, he looked like he had not had this much fun in a long time. The first round resulted in you winning, Buggy called for another card and ended up with 22 and going bust, keeping your 17 safe.

The second round did not favour you as well, you pulled a King of hearts and a 5 of diamonds, you called for another card which was a King of spades causing you to go bust. It all rested on this next round. This made things very tense at the table, you had both won a round each and were now praying to be the winner.

You had now had more than your fill of rum at this point, having played Blackjack with Buggy, hoping that he would be footing the bill for you, it was not often that you lost at Blackjack anyway, you seemed to have some divine luck with it. The final game was afoot, you were swaying softly from the alcohol and slurring slightly, it had been a long night for you.

The luck of the cards was with you again as you won the third and final round, your arms shot up drunk in celebration, you were now extremely inebriated from the night you had been so thoroughly enjoying. You had won again, much to your surprise as it had been such a close call. You stood up from your chair on your wobbly legs and attempted to bow somewhat before Buggy politely, only managing to do so in some sort of fashion as you were holding onto the chair and table for dear life. Buggy watched you attempt to walk away with a soft smile on his face, you only made it a few unassisted steps before you fell over. You were drunk. Buggy was many things, a pirate, a scallywag, a thief, but no one had ever said he was not a gentleman, though it was questionable at times. He scooped you up from the floor in your drunken stupor, you continued to run your mouth and speak absolute gibberish which he enjoyed as it made him chuckle. Buggy was not sure what ship you had come from, but he did not want to leave you alone, a rare bird such as yourself needed protecting in his mind.

That is what he told himself when he took you back to his ship and laid you in his bed. He was now fascinated with you, he spent all night watching you sleep soundly in his bed, enjoying the vision of you, he could lie to himself all he wanted that he did this to protect you, he knew deep down that he did this for selfish reasons.

It had been a deep and uneventful sleep for you, you remember winning Blackjack but that was it, you woke early in the morning with a headache and a groan, sitting up in bed. In bed? This was not your hammock. Where on earth where you? You looked around and realised that you were no longer aboard the Going Merry, you were in some lavish room and four poster bed with no idea how you got here.

[mdhwrites]

I've seen a few argue that Amphibia has an 'unintentionally authoritarian' undertone when it comes to the moral of accepting change, and while I don't really agree with the argument, I have pondered over it.

The 'evidence' they bring up are as follows: According to Matt Braly, the motivation Marcy's dad had for taking a new job was that it was a big 'opportunity' for him. Going off Braly's words, it seems it was done not out of financial necessity, but simply because Mr. Wu wanted to. As a result, some call Mr. Wu selfish and uncaring, ungrateful for the lofty life he already had. They argue he should have learned a lesson at the end, not just his daughter.

Further 'evidence' is the way Andrias is portrayed in an anti-authoritarian light, but the show 'has an expectation of deference to parents and authority' when it comes to any other parental figure than Andrias or his father. The argument goes that it is 'inconsistent' for the show to never question the Wu parents for their actions, while negatively portraying Andrias'.

Again, I really don't agree, partly because the show doesn't consistently portray parents as 'beyond reproach.' I mean, Hop-Pop often mishandles or mistreats his family, even if he means well, and he's portrayed as...well, wrong for it.

But the main reason I don't agree is because the story is one that wants to end with Marcy accepting the move. Having her dad be 'in the wrong because he took a job he didn't need' would result in an ending where Marcy doesn't move due to her dad learning to appreciate what he already has, thereby...nullifying the ending's message that being distant from her friends won't mean Marcy loses their friendship.

That being said, I think a fair point was made regarding the motivation for the move - if that really was Mr. Wu's reasoning, then I can see why some would interpret the story's resolution as 'your parents can't be challenged, even if they're taking you from an environment that gives you joy without any necessity.' Which is why it stays on my mind even if I don't agree - which brings me to my question: is this argument making a decent point by using evidence from the show creator, or is it another one of those takes that people use to justify their feelings rather than make an argument in any good faith?

This argument is so stupid that I hard stopped and my first instinct was to delete it.

That's not a joke. I needed a sanity check so bad that what I was reading was genuinely just insane that instead of waiting until after I'd written this to discuss it with my Discord, I immediately sent them the ask. Like... What? What show did you watch to make this? What is your definition of authoritarianism to think Andrias, Aldritch and THE FUCKING CORE are not people who force their will, loss of self, etc. upon others for the sake of the state and themselves which is at least a pretty decent component of authoritarianism. It's closer to say their argument is pro-authority but... We'll get to it.

So before I actually get into their bad evidence or how much of the show they're ignoring, let's just talk about lack of evidence. My blogs tend to be so long because rather than go "If you don't see this, you need to rewatch the show", I will actually try to be thorough in my examination and even bring up counter examples against my arguments. Most of my negative blogs on Lumity or Amity still admit that Eclipse Lake is a highlight for them. A sign of what could have been that is then drowned out by what actually happened. I am thorough though in part to make sure my argument is sound. I've literally had moments in blogs where looking at the evidence made me hard stop, like when I realized the first time that after Adventure in the Elements, Eda and Luz do NOTHING together for the rest of the season which I didn't know when I started my first blog on the issues with TOH's found family.

Their evidence, their ONLY evidence, is a very specific interpretation of something a creator said about a character who is vocal in one scene, not even on screen, and Andrias/Aldritch supposedly being anti-authoritarian. That's it. They bring up literally ZERO other power structures, authority figures, parents, etc... Because they'd be fucked if they did. They only focus on this very small group because they can spin it in a way that makes their argument sound reasonable. Not including 90% of the rest of the show though means their argument is inherently unsound.

So... What does the other 90% of the show say?

Well first: THE CORE IS AUTHORITARIAN. ANDRIAS IS AUTHORITARIAN. Aldritch... More up and down but that's kind of because he had such a prosperous state as to not need to quell rebellions but even he saw even one concerned cry of dissent as treason. Andrias is a good leader... Because he needs to be. He bides his time but the minute he has absolute power, he rules absolutely. Those who do not obey are literally mind controlled into serving him. Their personhood lost for the state. Hell, Andrias prefers DRONES over people to do his bidding and literally outfitted a robot with a BOMB as a punishment for if it didn't get its job done. The Core literally has a fuck everything but me button with the moon for if people don't listen to it and gives it what it wants and its whole gimmick is literal assimilation and then being crushed under the actual personality and desires of The Core. So yeah, the more substantial part of their evidence is just FLATLY WRONG.

But what about pro-authority? I said that was probably what they were going for more after all, especially since calling Mr. Wu authoritarian... *gestures at how fandoms moralize again because sweet fucking christ* So how does the show treat authority figures and especially blind trust in authority figures? With giving them absolute power and seeing that as a good thing?

You all remember how S1 ended with an upheaval of the status quote of the world because what the toads was doing was being evil and Sasha's want for Anne to listen to her, no questions asked, was unhealthy, right? Or how about how the one time Hop Pop gets full power over everyone instead of having to commonly explain himself or give concessions was the mind control episode where he was blatantly in the wrong? Toadstool... Exists. He actually only is a good guy once he stops only focusing on himself and wanting absolute power and greed and starts thinking about others and being willing to sacrifice for them. Wally's father wants the repression of his son's identity and desires before being proven wrong and a hypocrite.

One of the show's big themes is community and the positive effects of community and you literally CAN'T be pro-authoritarian, or arguably even pro-authority, with that as a core theme. You cannot say supporting and listening to only one person is correct if your main argument is that people are stronger and better working together and supporting each other. Hell, Hop Pop has an episode where he abuses the blind trust of his customers and it only ends badly for everyone. That is literally not something you can include if your main message is pro-authoritarian.

And finally... I could literally just say "Your anger about not seeing Sasha and Marcy's parents will never be justified" again about Mr. Wu. It's just another way to try to call him abusive. To say Marcy was in the right and the trio should have stuck together. Life changes like this do sometimes just happen. My last major move that wasn't just shifting places in the same small town, happened because a sudden decline in someone in the household's health made it less tenable for me to be there. The emotional strain was getting too great for me to handle. I was gone within a month or two.

Mr. Wu wanting a promotion because he cares about his job is not wrong of him. If the guy the position was supposed to go to fell through, he might have only been given weeks to make the choice and move which means pretty much no time to include his daughter. But also... Parents exist for more than their children. He is still caring about Marcy, he isn't literally abandoning her or kidnapping her, so it's okay if he wants to pursue what he cares about too. And that's pretty much the most cynical I can get about it because this isn't getting into him potentially wanting a better job to set aside more money for Marcy's college fund, or how the job they had might have been strained financially and this move could mean going somewhere MUCH cheaper to live as well. Or like... A hundred other reasons Mr. Wu might have seen this as a great opportunity in general.

And here at the end, I stand amongst an eviscerated argument and am tempted to just go "Stop." At least when others bring me arguments, they actually believe in those arguments. They actually think there might be credit to them. It's a very different feeling to have someone actively admitting they think a take is bullshit when it's brought to you, which is part of why I chose to talk about arguments in general with this like I did with your last ask too.

But... I also do get it. I literally needed a sanity check because of how insane this argument was to me. Not everyone has a Discord like mine though where they feel comfortable sharing posts like this and asking for thoughts, let alone have anyone in the Discord who can properly formulate an argument with evidence for why a take is insane. I might be your only option for a sanity check.

So if you want to keep bringing these, feel free to but also, I do have a dedicated Amphibia discussion channel in my Discord. I have one for TOH too. That way if you want to join but don't want to hear about a show, you at least mostly don't if you just mute the channel (they still both come up from time to time while discussing other cartoons but the bulk of the discussion happens in those channels.)

But BOY these Amphibia arguments are fucking wild to me. It honestly probably is a testament for how good the show is at its themes and messaging that people have to stretch THIS HARD to have anything where as when TOH fans go "It's anti-colonial" I at least understand why they have the base premise they do.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[hockeylvr59]

Here With Me Part 11 || Taylor Makar

Author’s Note: Taylor has to tell Kelsey about his idiot suspension but makes it up to her with a Friday night date and Kelsey makes him further pay up for it with some light but competitive 1-on-1 since he's not playing in that weekend's game. FC: Marina Laswick (@marooshk on instagram).

Warnings: cursing, tension, social alcohol consumption // Word Count: 3,626

~~~~~

Ten

With Taylor in Boston for a game against Boston University on Wednesday following their first intimate encounter as a couple, communication was limited to text and a short phone call Tuesday afternoon. It was during these conversations that they’d made plans for another date Friday night and Kelsey left the planning in Taylor’s hands at his request. 

She hadn’t expected to hear from him Wednesday with it being a game day, but when her phone was still quiet all day Thursday she became a little concerned. Figuring that he was just tired, Kelsey found other ways to occupy herself and tried not to let worry overtake her. 

Friday morning finally brought a text from Taylor but it was just asking her to come over an hour earlier than they had previously planned because he needed to tell her something. 

Immediately a pit formed in Kelsey’s stomach. Oh god, what had happened. 

She couldn’t fathom that he had cheated so that was off the table. Had he gotten hurt Wednesday night? Or had her Uncle somehow found out about them. She couldn’t imagine it was that without her hearing something from her Uncle himself or her aunt at the very least. 

Though she was confused and on edge, Kelsey agreed to Taylor’s request and drove to his apartment at the newly arranged time.

Immediately upon seeing Taylor’s face when he opened the door, Kelsey could tell that she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. 

Following him back to his room she raised an eyebrow at him, her expression screaming ‘out with it’. 

“I uh…know you were thinking about coming to the game Sunday so I figured I’d let you know now that I’m suspended for it.” 

“Suspended or benched?” Kelsey asked needing to figure out what the hell happened and who she needed to be mad at. 

“Benched because of a suspension.” Taylor mumbled, ducking his head. “For spearing.” 

“YOU DID WHAT!” Kelsey exclaimed, eyes going wide. High hits were one thing, it was hockey and sometimes moved too fast. Even a slew foot could be just a bad mistake. A spear….no that was intentional and so incredibly stupid. 

How the hell was she supposed to defend him to her Uncle if he was doing idiotic shit like that?? 

“What the hell Taylor? You fucking know better than that.” 

Red hot, Kelsey took a few deep breaths attempting to calm herself and sighed, a bit resigned.

“What the hell were you thinking. Oh wait you weren’t.” She ranted, hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you Taylor.” 

There was a piece of her mind buried under the disappointment that saw Taylor deflating where he stood in front of her. It was that piece of her mind that then saw a pair of athletic shorts in the pile of Taylor’s laundry with a split seam right down the inner thigh. 

Knowing that it was one of Taylor’s favorite pairs, Kelsey moved to grab it from the pile before grabbing her mini sewing kit from her purse. She could do a better repair job with her sewing machine but some hand stitching was just what she needed right now anyway. 

Flopping down on his desk chair, Kelsey adjusted the fabric between her hands and examined the seam, cutting away the loose thread before going to work repairing and strengthening it. 

She could hear Taylor pacing back and forth, his hands running through his hair catching the corner of her eye. 

“Taylor would you sit the fuck down while I finish this.” She stated, all venom dropped from her voice. 

With him complying and flopping onto his bed, Kelsey was able to finish her mend job on his shorts, testing the strength of the repair before dropping them back into his laundry and tossing the string fragments of her repair after cleaning up and returning her sewing kit to her purse.

Heart rate back to normal, she looked up at him, his expression broken as he scrolled through his phone. 

“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.” She whispered softly. “I just want you to succeed and you go and shoot yourself in the foot like this.” 

“I’m sorry.” Taylor replied, his face sullen. 

“I don’t want apologies, it’s not me you’re hurting, it’s yourself.” Kelsey stated, sighing again. “I want you to figure out what the hell you need to do to make sure it never happens again.” 

“Spent all day yesterday talking to the coaches and sports psych.” Taylor explained, though he was still withdrawn into himself as he sat on his bed. 

Pushing herself off his desk chair, Kelsey moved to the edge of his bed and motioned for him to come closer, pulling him into a hug. 

“I’m so sorry.” Taylor repeated, ducking his head into her neck as his arms tightened around her. Rubbing his back, Kelsey sighed and let him hold her. 

“You’re good Taylor, so good, you just need to not be stupid and control your stick.” 

****

At least twenty minutes passed with Kelsey just letting Taylor cling to her before she finally pulled away to lift his head into her hands, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. 

“C’mon T. Enough depressing hockey thoughts for the day. I need food and last I checked you had planned something for tonight.” 

Though Taylor nodded, he made no attempt to let her go. Kissing him a few more times, Kelsey finally got him to release her and was able to pull him up so they could head out for a meal and whatever else he had planned. 

Though dinner wasn’t anything crazy, just a stop for burritos at a local restaurant, it hit the spot and Kelsey was full and a little more settled by the time they got back in the car, Taylor pulling up gps for her to drive to. 

Seeing that the address was in NoHo, Kelsey started driving on instinct, only relying on the GPS as they actually got into town to direct her where to go. 

“So…you like to sew?” Taylor asked softly, looking at her from her passenger seat. 

“I do.” Kelsey nodded, vaguely remembering having told him that before and glancing over at him while at a red light. “It helps me to relax, just getting wrapped up with a needle and thread and making something that is torn whole again or making something fit better than it would off the rack. It’s peaceful.” 

Taylor seemed thoughtful about that but didn’t say anything right away. 

“Thanks for mending those shorts. I wasn’t looking forward to only being able to wear them with compression shorts under them.” 

“Not a problem T. I really don’t mind.” 

Settling back into the quiet of the radio, Kelsey continued to drive, once again checking GPS to make sure that she was headed to the right place. 

When it directed her to a parking lot she found a spot before climbing out and pulling her coat on tighter. Then she looked at Taylor like where to now because she had absolutely no idea what he had planned. 

After offering her his hand with a slightly unsure expression on his face as to whether she’d take it, Taylor pulled her along with him first to a liquor store for her to pick out her wine cooler of choice. Kelsey couldn’t help but be a little worried wondering if Taylor was having more trouble coping with the suspension than was initially evident. 

Seltzers obtained, they continued on to a small building that looked like a schoolhouse. To say Kelsey was confused was an understatement but she quickly realized that this was a concert venue as Taylor led her inside after giving his name at the door. 

The room was bigger than it appeared from the outside though still couldn’t possibly hold more than 100 people. Tucking herself closer to Taylor’s side, Kelsey let him pull her through the room to seats roughly in the middle but closer to the wall than the aisle. 

The alcohol made more sense now and Kelsey slipped her jacket off before settling into a chair and taking a can that Taylor was offering her from the open box. 

“So who is playing tonight?” Kelsey asked trying to engage with her boyfriend and keep his mind away from those nagging thoughts she was sure he was having. When he just shrugged she laughed, causing a flicker of a smile to cross his face. 

“Nice T.” She murmured. “Just a go with the flow kinda thing I see.” 

“Problem with that?” He asked softly causing her to shake her head before stealing a light teasing kiss. 

“Nope. Long as it doesn’t make my ears bleed.” 

“I think we should be fine. Well I hope.” Taylor admitted, running his fingers through his hair. 

It didn’t take long before the band took the stage, introducing themselves before jumping into their set. The music was kind of indie/folk and the lead singer was a woman who actually had a pretty amazing voice. 

Drinking her seltzer, Kelsey relaxed against Taylor’s side just letting the alcohol and music combine into a sort of buzzed feeling. It was nice spending time with him and she could tell how much he loved listening to live music by the expression on his face and the way his body vibrated and bounced to the music. Even seated she could feel him enjoying himself and it made her smile because he needed that. Partway through the set, Taylor slipped his free hand down to her inner thigh and when she didn’t stop him he relaxed further enjoying the additional touch. 

The set was just over an hour long and by the time they finished for the night, Kelsey was feeling a little sleepy but relaxed. It had been a good time with Taylor whispering in her ear between songs and just having some much needed time alone with him seeing and learning about something he enjoyed outside of hockey. 

Gathering up their coats and the box with the remaining can of seltzer, Taylor guided her back to the car to drop off the box before asking if she wanted to go for a short walk and get some tea or coffee or something and maybe dessert before heading back. 

Though she knew she wasn’t buzzed enough to be impaired, it never hurt to be extra cautious and so Kelsey nodded, agreeing to let Taylor drag her along down the ice cold street to a quaint little shop. The warmth of the building was welcomed and she stuck close to Taylor’s side as she looked over the menu, deciding on some hot green tea and asking if Taylor wanted to share a brownie. 

Nodding his agreement, Taylor ordered a drink for himself before paying and then tugging her off to the side to wait, wrapping his arms around her from behind and nuzzling against her hesitantly. It was clear he was still a little uncertain about being so touchy after earlier and tipping her head back, Kelsey stole another short kiss trying to reassure him that they really were fine. 

After getting their drinks and brownie, they settled in at a small table, legs bumping underneath as they just ate and sipped at the warm beverages, both sobering up further. 

“So I had fun tonight, thanks Tay.” Kelsey murmured after they had polished off the brownie and their drinks were mostly finished. They were simple words and nothing but the truth but she immediately saw their effect as Taylor smiled at her like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

“I’m glad.” He declared softly, his fingers brushing against her own as she rested her hand on the table. 

“You ready to head out?” She asked, a yawn overtaking her body. It was already almost nine, she still had to take him home and then get home herself and she was starting to feel the day catch up with her a bit. 

Standing up, Taylor offered her a hand and when she took it he pulled her up and helped her back into her coat before gathering up their trash to dispose of it as they exited the cafe. Stepping outside, he laced his fingers with hers and the two of them headed back to the car where he stopped her at her door softly asking if he could kiss her. 

“You know you can T, you don’t have to ask.” Kelsey declared before pressing up to meld her lips with his even as the cold swirled around them. Sliding her hands into his jacket, Kelsey deepened the kiss for a moment before pulling away with a happy sigh because she really did love kissing him. 

Sneaking one more kiss, Taylor opened her door for her before heading around to the passenger side to climb in himself while she started the car and cranked up the heat to warm them as she drove him back to his apartment. 

When they arrived he asked if she wanted to come in for a bit but Kelsey shook her head, declining. 

“I would but I have a tournament with my girls tomorrow morning so I should get home and get some sleep, we start at eight so I have to be there by like seven am.” 

Though Taylor was obviously a little disappointed he respected that response and turned to steal a few more kisses before thanking her for coming with him tonight and asking if she’d text him when she got home to let him know she was safe. 

Kelsey promised that she would and pressed one more lingering kiss to his lips before watching him climb out of her car and head inside, letting her head back home. Once there, she gathered up the remaining seltzer and took it inside, popping it open once she was safely in her room curled up in bed before texting Taylor she was home as promised. 

*****

Taylor: How was your tourney this morning? 

Kelsey: Good, they won and we wrapped earlier than expected. You busy? 

Taylor: Nope just finished lunch after practice this morning. 

Kelsey: Think your practice rink is free? 

Taylor: Pretty sure it is. 

Kelsey: Cool. Meet me there in 15. 

Taylor: uh sure. 

When Kelsey arrived at the practice rink at Mullins she pulled her equipment bag and stick from her car before heading inside, swiping her security key card to enter the building. Her timing was perfect because Taylor strode through the door only a moment after her, coming to her side and kissing her lips when he reached her. 

“Go gear up.” Kelsey insisted before Taylor could even get out a greeting. His look was one of confusion and Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you aren’t playing tomorrow, you can come play 1 on 1 with me.” Patting his ass softly, Kelsey urged him to go change as she moved to the bench area to pull her skates on. Once ready in just her usual joggers and coaching jacket with skates on her feet, Kelsey fixed her ponytail before stepping onto the ice to skate lazy laps and warm up while she waited for Taylor. 

There really was nothing like the feeling of ice under her blades and once her legs were warm she grabbed her gloves, stick and a puck just stickhandling to warm her hands up as well. 

She knew that it would take Taylor a little while to get all of his gear on and so by the time he stepped onto the ice to join her wearing a practice jersey but only lower gear and no helmet, she was warm and ready to go. Shooting onto one of the nets, Kelsey gave Taylor time to warm his own body up before pushing the puck his way as she skated back toward center ice. 

“All right. You start shooting toward that net.” She directed, pointing at the one behind her. “And I’m that one.” She declared motioning toward the one in front of her. “Play until I get tired.” Taylor stood there looking amused as he fiddled with the puck before he started with a jolt, pushing off to gain speed. Luckily Kelsey read his movements quickly and started skating backwards. 

She definitely wasn’t fast enough though and Taylor skated right around her to bury the puck in the net. He looked so proud of himself and Kelsey could only shake her head before skating over to pull the puck from the net. Taylor was skating lazily backward toward center ice and Kelsey gathered the puck onto her stick before carrying it toward the other net. Just past the offensive blue line, Taylor stepped up into her space and took the puck off her stick smoothly and efficiently. 

It wasn’t like she expected him to go easy on her, nor did she want him to, but he didn’t have to make defending look so easy. 

Switching roles again, they proceeded to go back and forth up and down the ice, Taylor almost always scoring - unless he missed the net - and then promptly shutting down Kelsey’s attempts at offense. 

With Taylor missing the net again, Kelsey couldn’t help but chirp him about how the net was over there, not in the corner. 

He certainly gave as good as he got though, chirping her back when she stumbled and fell defending or failed at shielding him from the puck given the length of his stick. 

It was competitive, albeit uneven, but also fun, Taylor flirting shamelessly as they went back and forth with little touches, bumps, and teases. After numerous rounds of him just stealing the puck from her, Taylor backed off a bit, letting her get a shot off only to promptly block it long before it got anywhere near the net. She knew that as much as it was him practicing a different skill it was also him teasing her and she couldn’t help but pout slightly. 

Despite starting to feel the ache of a good workout setting in, Kelsey was determined to score on Taylor just once. As they continued up and down the ice, Kelsey tried to think of a way she could get an edge up on him just for a moment. 

Calling for a water break, Kelsey skated over to the bench and pulled a bottle of gatorade from her bag, drinking almost a quarter of it while panting softly. When Taylor joined her she offered him the bottle before adjusting the waistband of her joggers down an inch or so as the waistband was starting to bother her. If it also gave Taylor the tease of skin then that was just an added bonus. 

Deciding that a little skin might be the only way to get an edge on her boyfriend, Kelsey also unzipped her jacket halfway and adjusted her tank underneath it revealing cleavage to her boyfriend’s gaze. 

By the time Taylor handed her bottle back, Kelsey was done with her wardrobe modifications and she tossed it back into her bag, putting her gloves back on and grabbing her stick. Immediately she could feel Taylor’s gaze on her darken and she mentally smirked because yeah he was nothing if not predictable. 

He still managed to defend against her and of course he still scored but Kelsey could see his focus slipping little by little. She just needed to pick her moment. 

Continuing to go back and forth, Kelsey picked the puck up when it was her turn and as she picked up speed, she twisted to bump Taylor off with her ass. Though he poked the puck away he froze for just long enough that Kelsey was able to regain control and send the puck flying into the top corner of the net. 

Throwing her hands up in celebration, Kelsey cheered as Taylor followed up, pinning her against the boards. 

“You play dirty.” He grumbled into her ear, voice filled with want. 

“Pretty sure not a single thing about that was illegal.” She teased, sparks in her gaze. “Bout time I score on you.” 

“Still dirty.” He mumbled, kissing her softly. Kissing him back briefly, Kelsey squirmed out from between him and the boards and skated back to the bench. She was worn out and it was probably time to call it since they’d been here at least an hour and a half already. 

“Thanks for coming to skate with me.” She declared, sipping at what remained in her gatorade bottle. 

Taylor’s cheeks were pink but he was smiling as he leaned against the boards beside her. 

“It was fun.” He admitted. “You know you’re actually really good given that you’ve only been playing a couple years.” He complimented. 

“Thanks T.” Kelsey murmured, stretching out her legs on the boards as she worked to cool down slowly before finishing their skate all together. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Taylor shake his head because she was very clearly making him horny just stretching. He was such a boy. 

“Go change and I’ll see you later.” She declared. “Mom is expecting me home for dinner tonight so I probably should get a move on.” 

Though that was probably not what Taylor wanted to hear he nodded, looping back to steal another kiss before making her promise to text him later. 

And she did text him, laughing as he complained about his legs cramping while watching the men’s basketball game with the team. 

He might frustrate the shit out of her sometimes but man oh man did she actually adore him. She couldn’t help but smile knowing that even with some bumps they had so many more cool things to explore with each other.

[purpleprey]

Chapter 4: Mannequin in the Creek

We bobbed to the surface of the water. We were now in a decently sized puddle, right beside a creek. I lifted Elysium up and out of the puddle, which could fit about 2 people, before climbing out and releasing Cosmic who was trapped underneath me. Once he was on land again, Cosmic took off his straw hat and wrung it out like a sponge (I didn’t think a straw hat would hold water like that, but Cosmic’s apparently did). He then placed it back atop his carrot-coloured hair.

“Is this the place?” I asked skeptically, looking around the creek wondering what here could possibly help the frosty Elysium Forging who was now lying on the creek bed.

“Oh yes,” Began Cosmic, who was still covered in his signature garden dirt despite all the water travelling “This should be it.” He was pointing behind me and as I turned I saw a large tree. There was what looked to be a large, purple apple dangling from its lowest branch (which was still way out of my reach). As I was about to complain about my inability to climb, I heard a voice behind us.

“Hey, you kids,” I whipped around to see a person laying in the creek, propping themselves up on a rock to look at us. It wasn’t until i wandered closer that i realised that the creek person was completely fucking naked. I averted my eyes, so as not to seem rude. The creek person noticed, and began to chortle at my expense.

“What's your deal, man!? Who the fuck are you!?” I yelled, blushing angrily in rage.

“My name is Venus Crypt, and I don't know what you people are doing climbing out of puddles?? But I am a merman.” Venus Crypt said airily, flicking his long auburn hair back.

“YOU HAVE LEGS!!!” I screamed accusingly, pointing at his human legs, “In what way could you POSSIBLY be a merman?!?!?!”

“In the ways that matter, baby <3.” he said smoothly and casually, but with an air of slight annoyance as he looked me up and down. I was much more annoyed than he ever could be, but I decided not to press the matter any further. I turned to Cosmic with an air of slight rage and demanded he fix Elly NOW so that we could leave this incorrect merman as soon as possible. I knelt down beside the icy Elly and clenched my fist in silent determination as I vowed in my heart to thaw her.

I stood straight back up and followed Cosmic over to the tree.

“We need an apple from here, it will heal Elysium.” Cosmic explained calmly, but I was not calm. There was no way I could reach the apple (definitely no way Cosmic could) and there were no lower branches that I could climb on.

I turned to Venus, the so-called “merman”.

“So, Mr. Merman” I said mockingly, hands on my hips “Do you want to use any magical Merman powers to help us out here >:(“

“Ah, not technically,” he said and I let out a condescending laugh. Stupid fucking merman. Pathetic. But then Venus stood up, out of the water, putting his 6ft 4 tall body on FULL display with ZERO warning, but by god, he was beautiful….

I grimaced. Objectively, Venus was ethereal. I was not. Coming in at a measly 5’10, I suddenly felt like a mole rat who wasn't handsome at all besides Venus who must've been what Leonardo Da Vinci had in mind when creating the Vitruvian man. Although I found his personality insufferable. Why do good things happen to subjectively bad people >:(

You must be wondering what Venus looks like. I lost my words as I gazed upon his silky, wavy auburn hair that reached down to his snatched, delicate waist. The sunlight hit his hair, making it look like pure bronze, and I had to hold back a gasp. As I stood, dumbfounded, he looked down at me with deep, sensual brown upturned eyes that fit his face all too perfectly as his steely gaze examined my expression. I felt I must've looked like a FOOL, but I couldn't look away. I will never take the colour brown for granted ever again. He smiled at me in amusement and I felt my eyes begin to water. Behind his voluptuous red lips, he had such perfectly white teeth, I could see my own inadequacies reflected back at me. He had a strong Grecian nose with a strong bridge, and yet, it was simultaneously so delicate and it complimented every feature on his clear, olive skin. He had what I always imagined the perfect ear to look like … and he had two of them. I clenched my fists and my jaw, tensing every muscle, telling my self not to fall head over heels for this Greek statue of a man, except, even a perfectly designed marble statue could not be as supernaturally gorgeous as this stupid fucking creek (mer)man. The veins on my neck were close to bursting. I was THAT tense. He had an almost feminine chin and a jawline so sharp and strong, he could cut me into pieces if he wanted to. And to my horror, I think I would let him. I suddenly understood how Adam felt in God’s garden of Eden, because when my eyes fell on this man’s perfect neck, I wanted so badly to partake of the forbidden fruit. And then there were his shoulders … They were so broad and very muscular (but not too muscular). This was a man who lived his life in fruitless vegetation, in decadence, despite inhabiting a creek. He wasn’t a bodybuilder by any means, because of this lifestyle, however, his muscles were still toned and he appeared fit as all fuck. Not to sound like a fucking freak, but objectively, even his feet were attractive. He was too beautiful to even be real. He looked like something you’d use to model clothes in a store. I wouldn't even dare to enter that store because it would feel misleading since I'm sure he would look godlike in any clothing, IF he wore any. Even the thought fills me with so much self doubt I could die right here.

To make a long story short: he was built for pleasure, I thought as my eyes panned further down……

Before I could even bite my lip, my thoughts were interrupted as Venus strided towards the tree. He looked up at the apple and, without any issues, reached up and plucked it out of the tree. He threw it to Cosmic, who brought it over to Elly. Venus knelt in front of me to look at Elly, and I looked at the back of his head and thought about how it would feel to run my fingers through his wavy locks… I sighed.

Cosmic held the apple in one hand and used the other to pry Elly’s mouth open, before shoving the apple into her gaping maw and forcing her lower jaw shut on the purple fruit. He continued the motion to make the unconscious Elysium chew it. The purple juice of the apple leaked out a little but Cosmic just wiped it back into her mouth. Once the apple was chewed to a mush, Cosmic forced Elly to swallow it with a special technique that I could never replicate or describe to you, dear reader. We all held our breaths in nervous anticipation, well, apart from Venus Crypt who seemed to have zoned out entirely. Absolute ass-hat >:(. I snapped my fingers in front of his face but he grabbed my hand out of the air, and continued staring into the distance. I gasped lightly at the touch, but I was still bloody annoyed because I could just tell there were NO thoughts going on in that handsome head of his. I was brought back to the situation at hand when I heard Elly wake up.

“Elysium!!” Cosmic wept in relief beside her as she sat up right and my eyes met hers. Her cheeks flushed pink and she looked away from me nervously. She must've been embarrassed, I, her bff, saw her in such a weak, pathetic state. I wanted to tell her I didn't mind, but Venus stood up. Elly took notice of Venus and her mouth dropped open in shock. She was practically thrown backwards in surprise, because as Venus stood, she now had a face full of It and It was admittedly MOST impressive. What a handsome man. I spat on the ground in rage.

Cosmic stood up and helped Elly to her feet but I stayed in a crouched position in defiance. Cosmic graciously shook Venus’s hand, thanking him for his help and Venus laughed, embarrassed by the praise. The handshake continued for longer than necessary, but Cosmic was practically in tears, he was so grateful, but at that moment, Venus stopped laughing and froze up. He suddenly dropped to the ground, his hand slipping out of Cosmic’s as he began to flail on the ground like a fish out of water. Ohhhh….

"Fucking MERMAN!" I screeched, feeling a headache coming on. “I guess I’ll help him.” I said, trying my hardest to sound reluctant. I tried to brush my hair behind my ear and I couldn't refrain from biting my lip. I crab-walked over to him and tried to lift him. I didn’t think it would be that difficult, especially since I was lifting from the knees. Not only was he too heavy, he was also flopping around too much for me to actually get a hold of him.

Suddenly, Venus Crypt was being lifted into the air. Not by me, Obsidian Leviathan, but by the little garden boy known as Cosmic Tomorrow. I couldn't believe my icy grey eyes. It would've made more sense if he was being lifted by the holy light… if he was ascending into heaven to join the rest of God's angels… but no. Cosmic held Venus close to his chest to stop him from thrashing around violently. Like mother and unreasonably beguiling child. I was a mixture of angry and horrified as Cosmic carried Venus over to the creek and gently baptised him in the water. His face portrayed nothing but kindness and serenity. Elysium looked at me with a face of concern as she asked me why I was crying. I hadn't even realised. I couldn't tell if the tears were caused by my anger at Venus being so hot or at Cosmic for being stronger than me. I decided it was because of Cosmic, he was making me look weak! I knew in my heart, I was a beast, a unit, a forklift, a force to be reckoned with and I could NOT let Cosmic, Venus, the Headmaster and Elly take that from me!

Venus began to settle down in Cosmic's arms. He was no longer writhing, just sitting in the creek as I cried. Venus sat complacently in the creek as Cosmic continued to scoop the clear water over his head maternally. No matter how much water covered him, Venus's hair stayed dry, bouncy and perfect >:/. I turned to Elly, who was still looking at me with concern written all over her face. I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks and gave her a reassuring smile to ease her worries. It seemed Elly had something she wanted to say!

"I'm sorry about what happened at the lake. I shouldn't have fallen in and I feel really bad for putting you all through that." She said glumly, "When I woke up and realised the trouble I caused, I thought of what YOU always say, Obsidian. 'bit schewpid, innit?’'' she quoted exactly what I supposedly always say in times like this. She looked like she wanted to say more but at that moment, Cosmic cleared his throat to get our attention.

"I talked to Venus Crypt and I think we should take him with us!" He chirped "We could use someone who can reach top shelves!!! Trust me."

I scoffed. “I highly doubt we’ll be needing his services. I don’t trust you, Cosmic, and I definitely don’t trust this fake ass merman.”

But at that moment, Elysium grabbed my arm caringly, almost shattering the bone. She looked me dead in the eyes and I could feel that she was staring directly into my soul.

“Obsidian,” she said softly, “You have to learn to trust again.” Her words moved me so greatly, I thought to myself, if someone like Venus Crypt had said them, I would have fallen in love INSTANTLY. Lucky it was only Elly. I turned back to Cosmic and Venus and nodded my acceptance of their terms. I thought about all of the high shelves we may encounter in our journey. Cosmic was right. I pushed my jet black hair out of my eyes, since it was still sopping wet from the water travelling and all 4 of us (actually, except Venus, I assume) were feeling pretty fucking cold, soggy, and exposed to the elements. I realised that the sunset was quickly approaching so I decided that we would camp here for the night. I took Elly by the hand and we went off in search of firewood.

We had only walked about 5 metres before Elly put her hand on my shoulder, halting me, as she pointed just ahead of us. We were standing 1 metre from a bright red wooden door that I'm lucky Elly pointed out or I would've missed it for sure!!!! We slowly approached the door, cautiously as though it might try and attack us. I grabbed the handle and went to twist it but Elly stopped me.

“Venus lives here and Cosmic has been here before. We should ask one of them about the door, we have no idea what’s behind it!” she whispered.

“Pish! Posh!” I yelled raucously. “Venus probably hasn't strayed far from the creek and Cosmic is like six, I think.” Elly stared at me blankly as I continued to shout in her face about the insolence of our two companions. In fact, I did this all the way back to camp, not closing my gaping maw once.

“I’m not six,” Cosmic whimpered as we returned to where the two fellows were seated. Venus stared at me with a sexy amount of contempt in his eyes.

“Why are you bringing this up now?” I huffed, doing my signature defiant crouch.

“You were yelling raucously, Obsidian, and you were only 6 metres south of us.” Tears were starting to pool in his eyes again.

“If you didn’t want your feelings hurt, you shouldn’t have listened in on my private convo, eavesdropper.” I barked back and then Elly slapped me across the face considerately. I went flying. I landed no less than 6 metres north. I was now 12 metres from the door (a record). I was disheartened on the walk back to the camp, even more so now that I couldn’t take out my anger on Cosmic Tomorrow. Elysium Forging might backhand me if I did it again. I decided I'd just have a tantrum and go to sleep rather than check the door again. But as I curled up on the dirt, the voice of God spoke to me again. It had been many long years since I've heard from Him, that absolute jackass.

“Obsidian Leviathan.”

“WHAT!” I shrieked, tears of rage running down my face into the dirt I lay on, though I knew I was the only one who could hear him.

“I speaketh anon to thee. Thou might not but ope the r'd doth'r yond thou did see with thine eyes.”

“Motherfucker.” I muttered under my breath.

“I can heareth thee!” his voice echoed in my cranium pleasantly. I rolled my eyes. God cleared his throat and continued.

“I wisheth to impart upon thee this wisdom: what joy th're is in living. Peepeth und'r the tent and seeth the clowns.”

“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?” I wept violently.

“Cap the jar with a tight brass cov'r. The ripe gust of cheese improves with age.” he said wisely. “Thee cannot brew tea in a bitter cold pot. The birch canoe did slide on the smooth planks. Prepareth to square! I shall heave the gorge on thy livings, naughty mushrump!”

Then he went silent and I cried myself to sleep.

[alheria]

Fresh wind on a hot day (3/9)

*Hey, it's Buck! I really wanted to wait a day or two before texting, but turns out I can't stop thinking about you. U free on Sunday? I almost suggested a hike, lol. Not with that ankle, huh? Next time then! How does chilling on the beach sound? 🥰*

Jim couldn't stop reading the message over and over again, every time feeling fucking butterflies wreak havoc in his poor stomach.

Buck asked him on a date.

Not even five hours after they parted their ways.

Took him nearly twenty minutes to respond, overthinking every single word he wrote to make sure it didn't somehow sound stupid. Which totally made him feel like a teenager interacting with their first crush. So what? It was reasonably overwhelming that he managed to impress someone so much, they wanted to see him again on their next day off. And the fact that person happened to be a handsome, likeable Alpha firefighter only added more stress to the raging anxiety fire.

Street couldn't even remember the last time he was on an actual date. Perhaps it was the awful one last year. Tan was bothering him for ages to meet with some gay cousin of his good friend, so to once and for all make him shut up, he agreed. It was a horrible mistake. That Alpha dude, who was apparently a very respectable neurosurgeon, clearly wanted to own a what he called "a rare object" in a form of a jacked, intimidating Omega working a manly job. This statement, voiced barely fifteen minutes after they met, left the officer utterly speechless. He was baffled by how confident in his deep arrogance that man must have been to say such offensive bullshit with absolute nonchalance. Just...wow. Tan was obviously fired from any further matchmaking, and all Jim's following encounters were purely physical because he had no mental strength left to deal with some people's stupidity. He really hoped the upcoming one won't be another disappointment, which was an odd thing to suspect since they already spent a significant amount of quality time together. Still, Street was nervous. 

The next three days of doing absolutely nothing productive, because he was on that stupid medical leave, were a constant struggle as Jim couldn't fully focus on anything, too distracted by his Sunday plans. It was not clear what the exact idea was until Saturday evening, so various speculations filled his forced freedom. Not a single was correct, but at least the daydreaming killed the time.

Beer and sunset was what Buck suggested. How convenient, those were Street's two favourite things. Unfortunately, it also meant the firefighter wouldn't come to pick him up before the afternoon, which equalled lots of silly anxiety amplified by Luca being at work, thus not providing much-needed distraction. Fucking hell.

To muffle the ruckus in his head, the officer had to turn for help to the ultimate brain-numbing activity: watching reality TV. It's something Chris made him do on their days off before she moved in with Amelia and even after, the habit stayed, doing wonders to his noisy brain. So, hopefully dressed adequately for the occasion, he sat on the couch and fully immersed himself in a silly show until someone loudly knocked on the door, startling him terribly.

Fuck.

He lost track of time.

Nervously shaking only a teeny-tiny bit, Jim opened the door and almost whined when his stomach did a flip. No way that guy looked better than last time. How is that even possible?! Why is he so damn hot?!

-Hi there. Ready? -Buck asked softly, a wide smile instantly brightening his handsome face. 

Nope. Not at all. Can we cancel and forget we ever met?

-Yeah. -Street lied, quickly going back to grab his almost forgotten phone. -You alright Buck? You look tired. -observed upon returning, without thinking cupping the younger man's cheek and gently rubbing it as he examined the darkness prominent under the blue eyes. 

-Might get better in a sec! -informed the firefighter, pulling the Omega into a long hug, with nose pressed to his neck, deeply inhaling the comforting scent. Jim could clearly feel when the tense muscles slowly started to relax in the tight embrace. -I had the longest shift ever yesterday, can't wait to forget all about it. People can be really stupid sometimes. -explained vaguely once they parted.

-Tell me about it. -Jim rolled his eyes, turning away to lock the door. -Most of the people I get to "meet" are not only stupid, but also armed. Idiots and guns do not mix well. -he sighed, shaking his head in disapproval. -Let's go?

The whole drive to the beach, they talked about everything and nothing, mostly work related anecdotes interrupted by Buck's shockingly bad singing. It felt so natural to be around him, like if they met years ago, not a few days. There was no tension, no awkwardness, just pure comfort between them. Even on arrival, as they walked towards their destination and the Alpha casually held his hand, it didn't feel weird at all. Which was actually strange, since the officer was not used to the romantic part of intimacy, never experienced anything "relationship like", so this whole situation should be throwing him off. But it somehow wasn't.

They sat down on a blanket thrown over the sand, cracked open the cold beers and in complete silence enjoyed the beautiful view of an orange orb vibrantly glowing from behind the pinkish clouds, hanging over the horizon, nearly touching the line of calm water splashing lazily near them. The wind was a little chilly at this hour, although nicely refreshing, ruffling their hair with its slow gushes as their shoulders met, exchanging pleasant warmth. Watching that breathtaking sunset next to the most incredible person he's ever met was truly a dream come true. A dream that seemed too good to be reality. 

-Buck, why are you single? -Street blurted out of the blue, unable to contain curiosity any longer. He had to know what is wrong with that seemingly incredible man before they moved any further with this relation. 

-Ugly truth? -the firefighter chuckled after taking in a fairly deep breath. Street only nodded in response. -Well...for the past few years I've been hopelessly in love with my best friend and work partner Eddie. Ever since we met, and he introduced me to his amazing kid, Chris, I desperately wanted to be a part of this beautiful family, have those two incredible boys all to myself. Even if it meant giving up on my dream of having kids on my own. Eddie is a Beta, y'know? He had a wife, but she died last year. Anyway, for the longest time I've been hiding those feelings to not ruin our friendship, until one day I started noticing we've gotten closer than any friends should be. Around five months ago, I finally stopped lying to myself and everyone in our team, for whom it was obvious there is something between us. I told him how I truly feel, and he said that despite having feelings for me, he's not ready to start another serious relationship just yet. That's why I am single, Jim. I was too busy waiting for Eddie to change his mind. To let me love him. 

And, oh.

Jim could feel his heavy heart drop all the way to the ground.

And then Buck grabbed his fucking hand and squeezed it so tenderly it almost made him cry like a fucking baby because suddenly it started to feel like he chose him over the possible love of his life and all the chaotic thoughts of being a temporary replacement or a rebound or whatever else instantaneously vanished.

-I'm done waiting. -the Alpha smiled, fondly looking at the cop with those bright, blue eyes, and Street just melted. -Few weeks before we me met, I decided it's enough. My patience has officially run out, and I am more than ready to move on. -he assured, probably sensing or even seeing the Omega's already fading distress. -What about you? Why are you single, Jim?

Oh Lord. Why didn't he think beforehand that this question might absolutely shoot right back at him? Dammit.

Ugly truth, huh?

Very ugly indeed.

-I...almost killed someone once. -he whispered after gathering the much-needed courage, his jaw impossibly tense as he stared at the darkened waves. -It was back at the police academy. Everyone except me in my class was either a Beta or an Alpha, so they were giving me a pretty hard time, trying to force me to quit because apparently Omegas have no place in the force. I was changing by my locker one day when out of nowhere that one especially obsessed with harassing me fucker showed up behind my back, said "Maybe I should make you my obedient little bitch." and bit my neck. Hard. I fucking lost it. Next thing I remember is him lying on the ground, blood all over my hands, his face beaten into a pulp. They told me he developed a severe brain bleed, couldn't become a cop afterwards. And I couldn't trust any Alpha anymore, in fear they will try to forcefully make me "normal", an obedient little bitch. -revealed, quickly wiping a single tear rolling down his cheek. -If I am not interested in Betas and wary of Alphas, who do I date, huh? -Jim laughed nervously, not daring to gaze at the other man out of  unnecessary embarrassment. He's never told that story to anyone but Chris. She was furious.

-Damn, and I thought, I'm a hot mess. -Buck whistled, swiftly pulling the cop into his arms. -Guess we both are. -sighed, resting his cheek on the top of the other man's head.

-Not quite. I'm definitely hotter. -joked the officer, shifting himself to look at that pretty, slightly concerned face.  

-I'll give you that one. -chuckled the firefighter, capturing Street's lips in a quick kiss. -Fuck, Jim, you make me wanna keep you.

-You like damaged goods? -the Omega snorted in response, entangling his fingers into those soft blond strands.

-Duh! -Buck exclaimed. -No one should pretend they're perfect. It's really cool that you're not afraid to share your truth. -added with a wide smile, making Jim feel dizzy from all the affection he's been receiving. There is nothing more pleasantly overwhelming than being held by your crush while they tell you they wish to be with you. Nothing.

-Keep me then. -he offered. -I enjoy you Buck, a lot, actually. Even though we barely know each-other, around you I finally feel truly respected and...safe. It's not like I'm one hundred percent sure we would work, but I'd love to at least try. You don't have to respond... -tried to explain, but got promptly interrupted by a rather possessive kiss. -...right now.

-Are you for real?! -shouted the younger man, gazing at the officer in pure disbelief, his watery eyes sparkling with raw happiness.

-Do you seriously want me to repeat those most cringeworthy words I've ever said? -Street frowned, trying very hard not to blush after realizing what he's just shamelessly confessed. Buck laughed in response before leaning down to kiss his boyfriend one more time, stopping for a second to whisper:

-I'll take it as a yes.

---

They stayed on the beach until it got dark and too cold for sitting there in thin hoodies, the chill crawling under their skins despite being in close contact. Driven by the desire to go somewhere warmer, the two of them literally stormed through the apartment door, like some horny teenagers unable to stop touching even for a moment all the way back there.

Plastered to the wall, Street could barely breathe as their tongues mixed, unbelievably hungry and equally needy as their lower parts. Already hard in his pants, he hopelessly thrust into Buck's matching erection, causing him to growl and suddenly break the kiss.

-Carry me upstairs? -Jim immediately requested, wrapping his muscular arms around the taller man's neck, gently brushing the silky hair.

-Didn't you say you would let me do it only that one time? -chuckled the Alpha, firmly grabbing onto the sturdy hips while gazing into those foggy, starving eyes looking at him expectantly as they stood there pressed together, their dicks desperate to get some heavenly friction.

-Well, in my defense, I didn't plan on seeing you more than once. -revealed the cop blushing subtly. He certainly didn't predict they would meet ever again, let alone start dating, and was pretty sure it was a mutual feeling. Because who could've possibly predicted them instantly clicking? No one.

-Ouch! -Buck whined dramatically before obediently slipping his large palms under the beefy thighs and effortlessly picking his boyfriend up. -Are you aware you're not the lightest person in the world?

-Aren't you firefighters supposed to be like...super strong? -teased the Omega, tightening the legs around his lover to put pressure on their aroused cocks while the younger man hurried them to the bedroom. -You're gonna save on gym with me.

-I have free gym at work! -the firefighter giggled, carefully putting Jim back on the floor. -I do like that you are so ripped tho. It's really fucking hot. -added, unexpectedly pushing the officer onto the bed that creaked dangerously under his weight.

-Did I perhaps hit a nerve? -Street hummed after quickly recovering from the initial shock of being violently shoved. Buck only snorted in response and swiftly took off his white hoodie, soon joined by the bottoms on the ground. Gloriously naked, he then climbed over his fully dressed boyfriend and instead of helping him get rid of the itching material, focused on marking the round jaw with kisses. The cop whimpered in annoyance, desperately needing complete skin to skin contact, not merely a hint. His hands erratically wandered along the uncovered spine, gently caressed the warm flesh as his lover made him squirm, bruising the extremely sensitive neck. But still, it was simply not enough. So, he grabbed a fistful of golden hair and yanked them. Not too hard to cause any pain, but enough to grab attention.

-Buck, sweetheart, if you don't start fucking me anytime soon, I'll probably lose my mind. -he groaned, looking right into the visibly darkened, slightly surprised blue eyes that instantly widened upon hearing Jim's complaint. 

-On it. -assured the Alpha, and as promised began to undress him, starting with the hoodie. Once it was gone, Street shivered from the rapid change in temperature, the colder air unpleasantly licked the burning skin. Seeing the tremble, the firefighter started kissing his chest, tender pecks one by one led a trail all the way to the strained pants he easily pulled down, revealing the soaked underwear hiding the prominent erection. Jim was so hard it was physically uncomfortable. A loud moan escaped him when the suffocating penis finally got some air. Even louder one when Buck confidently licked it from the very bottom up to the leaking tip. The moment it disappeared in its entirety inside the velvety mouth was so intense, everything instantly went dark. He could only feel the utter ecstasy and hear himself produce the most shameful, erotic sounds forced out by his dick being skillfully sucked. There was no doubt he would not last long. The orgasm was approaching quickly, fueled by two fingers entering him in preparation for the main event. When they spread open, that did it, came on the spot, pressing deep into Buck's throat.

-Sorry. You okay, baby? -Street asked, seeing the younger man cough once he pulled away, his eyes visibly watery. -C'mere. -he ordered, extending an arm towards his boyfriend, who eagerly lied down on the heavily breathing chest, inhaling the familiar scent until the fact he was yet to release started bothering the recovering officer. -I'm pretty sure I mentioned something about fucking me. -he whispered suggestively, laying a gentle kiss on the sweaty forehead, more than ready to resume the fun.

That's all Buck needed to hear. Joining their lips, he pushed himself up and shifted to comfortably fit between Jim's spread legs. Without them parting, the Alpha lined his coming back to life penis with the loosened opening and effortlessly slid right in, completely filling the incredibly hot, twitching insides.

-Fuck, you feel so good. -he huffed, withdrawing a little before thrusting back in, his moves shallow to avoid falling out of the immensely wet hole. The Omega could feel his cock harden again as the other man began the unrushed rhythm and leaned down to bury his nose in the fragrant neck, nibbling on the skin from time to time. It was ecstatic, having such a sensitive body part played with, marked subtly by someone he truly cared for. He wrapped his arms around Buck and lightly grazed the arching spine while the firefighter's penis rubbed the throbbing prostate. Their mixed groans and moans started to slowly increase, but neither of them was interested in ending it fast. The new couple wanted to enjoy themselves. So, in tight embrace they leisurely followed the blissful release's path until the friction became unbearable, overwhelmed all the senses and forced the powerful orgasms out.

Later on, they curled up together, aching terribly, however insanely happy. Street had a hard time dozing off, tormented by disbelief in what has happened over the past few days. He met a guy in the weirdest situation possible, randomly saw him at the bar on the same day, slept with him, and then, after barely one date, became his fucking boyfriend. How crazy was that?! And even though it surely sounded insane, Jim didn't care in the slightest, being reverently held by a man who made him laugh was all that mattered, and he couldn't wait to get to properly know him.

The first "new" thing he learned was that he did not like waking up alone in someone else's house. Still half asleep, he rolled over, reached for his phone and with a good yawn checked the time. 9:17. Now it made sense - Buck's shift started over an hour ago. He couldn't believe he slept through him getting ready for work, and that he was even allowed to do so. Maybe they were together now, however, it was quite odd to let someone you barely know stay in your home without supervision. At least that's what Street thought. Not really keen on doing anything after having quite a night, it took him another forty minutes to get himself out of the comfortable, pleasantly smelling bed into the shower and then downstairs for a coffee. To his surprise, on the kitchen island, a single key lied next to a vibrantly pink note neatly folded in half with his name written on it, containing the cutest, most heart-warming message he's ever received:

Dearest boyfriend ♡

Work :(

Stay as long as you want!

Close the door pls

Jim couldn't stop a fond, intrusive smile from growing as he kept looking at the piece of paper.

That man's adorable sincerity surely will be the death of him. 

[minsyal]

The Fugitive (Finding Home), Pt. 1

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

Backpacking through Eastern Europe was not a top priority on your “to do” list. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Being one to preplan everything, you were completely caught off guard when your roommate sprung the idea of the trip out of the blue. You roommate, Jezebel Haine, was your first and only roommate from college onward. All legs, she was one of the stars of the track team but was most certainly not one of the brightest shining ones. She was considerably dim-witted, fanatical, and had a booming over-the-top personality that scared every potential boyfriend who had the disservice of meeting her. There were times, though, that she was rather endearing. Her childlike sense of self and emotional drivers consistently put her at a crossroads between what everyone else was doing and what she should be doing; she was, and always will be, a follower.

After four years of becoming “the bestest of friends,” you had a hard time imagining such a hard shift either into another roommate or living alone. Plus, her parents funded most everything she did and, in turn, funded the apartment the two of you shared.

“It’s an amazing opportunity!” She insisted, waving her hands in a simple manner as she rose from the condensed cushion of the leather-clad couch. “Think about it.” Gathering your hands in hers like a 20’s actress who had just met the man of her dreams, she pulled the bundle to her chest. “We frolic through the European countryside, it’s golden hour. My skin looks absolutely gorgeous… yours too, of course. The sun is just about to set, but alas!” She let out a dramatic gasp, removing one of her hands to cover her mouth. “It’s growing dark out!”

“That’s what happens when the sun sets.” You noted, causing her to drop the act for a moment only to immediately go back into character.

“We hear the crunching of leaves and twigs all around us as if something…” she drew close and lowered her voice to a whisper, “sinister is coming. Out of no where we’re ambushed! By what, I’m not sure. Then,” her eyes became glassy as she lay a delicate hand to her forehead, “two absolute studs… and I’m talking big bulging muscles, gorgeous trendy hair, captivating eyes… really everything a simple girl could ask for… seemingly drop from the sky! We’re saved!” She throws your hands into the air as if they’d fall like confetti. Drawing both her arms in, she sways back and forth in a waltz of one. “We’d be married by the next day! Hell, maybe we’d even end up as princesses.”

Oh, how utterly wrong she was.

“I told you this was a stupid idea.” You groaned, haughtily holding your chin up while feeling your spirits low. A few miles back, on an asphalt road that quickly turned to dirt, sat the dingy red rental truck with a blown out engine and a deflating tire. With no cell service and the last town being over 100 miles back, your only choice was to walk.

“Don’t blame me!” Jezebel stopped walking, feet falling flat to the ground as she stomped her foot in a childish manner. “I,” her lip quivered as all the anger held in her body dissipated, “I just wanted to have a fun time with you.” Big tears flowed from her eyes quickly after finishing her proclamation, leaving smearing black lines down her face from the eyeliner she insisted was necessary in the Romanian countryside. God, if her parents weren’t funding this trip, you’d throw a fit for your money back.

“Jess, just,” reaching backward, you fished a rag from your backpack, “don’t cry. That’s not going to make this better.” Sniffling, she accepted the rag and wiped her eyes, further smearing black all over her face. You couldn’t help but feel a shred of sympathy for her. “Let’s just keep going. No use in wasting daylight. I really don’t want to get caught out here in the dark.”

“Where are we supposed to go, then?”

“I’m sure the next town will have some sort of inn or hotel. At the very least, they’ll have directions to the nearest city.”

After another five miles of walking, the sun was beginning to set and no gorgeous studs were waiting to save you. The blazing yellow ball inched slowly beyond the horizon. Its warming rays that had kept the snow from freezing the two of you in the day crept down below the snow peaked mountains that were nestled in the distance. Shadows began dancing between the trees, sending the forest into a theater of silent performers. The dirt road that was once large enough for two cars was now only a walking path so slim that Jezebel had to follow on your heels. Every now and again you were reeled back by the piece of rope that she had attached to your backpack that was firmly gripped in her hand. She claimed it made her feel safer.

“You think those two hunks are going to come save us now?” You joked, attempting to make light of this dark situation.

“I wish.” She huffed, frustration evading her voice as exhaustion took center stage.

Flickering light caught your eye. Hues of yellow and red mingled together in the distance, the outlines of rooftops and smoke-filled chimneys littered the ground below. “I think that’s a village.”

Another mile of downhill travel was all it took to reach the place where the once distant flickering of torches and lanterns grew into the quiet streets of a cluttered settlement. There was no clear indication of movement once you stepped foot in the village; the only evidence of any life came in the form of fresh boot prints, livestock, and the ever-blazing lanterns. Jezebel was all to happy to release your makeshift leash from her fingers, trotting mindlessly by to examine the street corners and homes. Your eyes continued wandering up the rooftops, finally landing upon the eerie looming castle situated on the mountainside above.

From around the bend, you heard Jezebel screech.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You threw caution to the wind, quickly rounding the corner to scold her like a parent would to a misbehaving child. “You don’t know if these people are violent or not. We can’t just go parading ourselves into the town center.”

“I think they’re violent.” She mustered the shaky words. Her hands covered her eyes and the majority of her face as she backed away from whatever had caused her distress.

“What?” The unpleasant squelch of snow beneath your feet caused your attention to draw downward. Dark snow surrounded your boot, an unnatural red hue stained the pure white. Gaze moving upward, your chest restricted feeling as if it had crushed inward on itself. The putrid smell finally fell upon your nostrils as you backed away from the scene. Severed animal heads hung lazily above you, their tongues flopping from their opened mouths.

“I want to go home.” Jezebel sobbed, rasping her cries into her cupped hand. Shaking her head as if to knock this moment from her brain, her short-lived façade of curiosity gave way to her immediate feeling of impending dread.

“That’s what I’m trying to do right now, Jess. Just, calm down.”

A low grumble had you standing further on edge, if that was possible at this point. The sound was clear as day and was anything but human. You weren’t even sure a human could get to an octave so low without the help of technology. Eyes darting upward once more, a chill ran from your shoulders to your toes.

Hauntingly yellowed eyes lingered upon the two of you. The beast-like figure was silhouetted by the moonlight, outlined like a ghost. It looked to be a man, but also anything but a man in the same sense. Its mouth was parted, baring old rotted teeth that looked to have dried blood caked between its gums. Its hands were bloodied as well, small cuts were painted across its forearms only hidden by the rags that clung to its chest.

Before you could process the situation, Jezebel let out another yelp. In an instant, the beast lunged down from its perch, landing with a ground shaking thud nearly five feet before you. “No!” Jezebel’s open palm collided with the space between your shoulder blades as she pushed you toward the monster. The last thing you saw was her backpack falling to the ground as she began running toward one of the homes. You landed face-first in the snow, groaning as all the air in your lungs were forced out. The beast snarled, once again showing its teeth as it hunched down to your level. This was, most certainly, not the way you envisioned dying. Things like this weren’t supposed to exist; this is myth, this isn’t real. It all felt like bad dream gone worse that you couldn’t wake from.

“Pesky creatures, aren’t they?” A new voice called out as the horrendous sound of metal crushing bone and muscle slithered through your ears. The disgusting feeling of gore instantly trickled down your hands. “Please,” the voice continued, “feel free to thank me anytime.”

A moment later, the stranger let out a scoff with the squishy suction of whatever he had used to quiet the monster. The tap of a boot on your elbow finally prompted you to uncover your eyes. “Or don’t.”

“I,” you started, opening and closing your mouth multiple times unable to find the right words, “thank you.”

“Oh.” He tiled the stiff rim of his frayed hat back, exposing a pair of circular sunglasses perched upon his nose. “Foreigners, eh?”

“Yeah, um.” You gathered yourself, finally pushing up to stand on your feet. “We got lost.”

“And ended up here, no doubt.” A stifled chuckle left his lips as he tilted his hat back in place and swung whatever he used to kill the beast over his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.”

Without another word, the stranger sauntered off with a backward wave of his hand. “Oh, and have someone clean this mess up.”

“Y/n!” Jezebel’s shrill voice called as she returned with a rather confused villager. He held a shotgun with both of his hands, Jezebel shone a flashlight in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” The villager moved forward with extreme caution after peering around you dumbfoundedly seeing the crumpled body.

“I’m fine, no thanks to her.” You spat, anger swelling in your throat causing a particular acidity to your words.

“All of you! Inside this instant.” A matronly holler came from behind Jezebel and the villager. “You know Miranda’s protection only runs so far as we grow closer to this time.”

Who is Miranda and, more importantly, who was the man who saved you?

The home you were ushered into was on the outskirts of town. It was one of the larger estates given the fact that some people seemed to live in one-room shacks. Upon entering, you were greeted with the warm glow of yellow light trickling in from what looked to be a formal living room. The sweet aromas of honeyed tea wafted through the air, drawing further in as the woman led the three of you deeper into the home. What was worse? You pondered. Being killed by that beast or potentially being murdered by the inhabitants of this home? You couldn’t decide. Thus far, the two gave no indication of malice.

“Please, sit.” The woman pulled out two of the chairs at her table, the wood scratching against the floor. “I’ll fetch the tea.”

Jezebel was so brainless. She smiled at you as if she hadn’t just offered you up as a midnight snack. Surely there was no hamster running on that squeaky track that powered her.

“What was that thing?” You turned to the man who was now seated to your right. “The monster.”

The man ignored your question, instead grabbing a piece of rounded bread from the plate at the center of table. Slathering butter on it, he looked to you. “How’d you kill it?”

“I didn’t.” You frowned, recalling the mysterious man who saved your life without even dropping his name. The villager raised his brows and kicked his foot up on the table. He was waiting for more information. “Some man came out of nowhere. He had some hammer-like weapon.”

As soon as he processed the words, his foot fell from the table and he leaned forward, uncomfortably close. You could smell the distinguishable bite of alcohol percolate from his lips. “Did he wear glasses? A hat?”

“He did.” The words slowly drifted from your mouth. “Hair to about here.” You motioned to the halfway point of your neck.

“Adelina,” the man called, presumably to the woman who guided you inside. He got up quickly, rushing to the other room leaving you and Jezebel alone.

“What the hell is going on here?” You whispered in a harsh tone, leaning forward to get closer to her. “Is this not weird at all to you?”

“I think they’re nice people.” Jezebel responded at full volume without a second of thought.

“That’s coming from someone who tried to feed their supposed best friend to a monster.”

“I was buying us time to get help.”

“Help? I almost died!”

“But you didn’t.”

“When we get back to the U.S. I never want to speak to you again.” You seethed. How could she be this bad? You knew there were a few… a considerable amount of screws missing from Jezebel, but how in God’s green earth does she justify her actions at this point? The thought of it accompanied by her dazed and empty stare only fueled the fire of anger more.

“Dear,” the woman, who you now knew was Adelina, reentered the room accompanied by the man with a tray of cups and a kettle in her hands. She set a delicate china glass in front of you, softly filling it with a reddish colored liquid that she assured you was Celestial Seasonings, a tea imported from Africa. “I hear that you’ve met Lord Heisenberg.” Placing a hand over her heart, she gave a warm smile that only sent another wave of dread through your body. There was something so alluring about this woman, yet so sinister.

“Lord, who?”

Adelina stiffened, craning her neck to the side as she plastered a forced smile upon her lips once more. You had upset her, that much was obvious. “One of the four Lords that rule here alongside our dear Mother Miranda.” She explained, pushing the cup of tea closer to your body. Jezebel had already finished her first glass. Warily, you lifted the cup in your hand and allowed the warm water to heat your frozen body. An elongated finger pointed to the framed painting that hung to the wall. “Mother Miranda protects us here.”

Mother Miranda. You could only focus on the image of the woman silhouetted by six black wings and a halo outlining her head. Her eyes were indistinguishable behind the raven-like mask that clung to her face. Adorned in a black garb, she looked to be a holy figure in this town. But like Adelina, something just wasn’t right with Miranda.

The unsettling reverb of crickets and cicadas chirping grew louder and louder with each passing hour. You counted the seconds between waves of mass chorus; so far, it was roughly thirty seconds between each bleating scream of their nightly tune. You couldn’t sleep. Despite the somewhat comforting, but entirely unsettling welcome given by Adelina and Marion, you couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal in the tiny cupboard room they had given you. A curious thought tickled the back of your mind, willing you to remain as alert as possible after an exhausting day of hiking; where had they put Jezebel? Not that you particularly cared at this point. After the attack she had done a 180, dropping all suspicion of malice in this village. She simply flushed the pictures of hanging heads and wild beasts from her memory. You sometimes envied her lackadaisical memory accompanied by a fanatical view of the world. Living blissfully ignorant, especially in a situation like this, seemed to serve her best.

After a small dinner of fish that smelled of ammonia, of which you politely picked at, Adelina insisted the two of you stay the night. “The beasts will return!” She exclaimed, holding a firm hand over the intricately carved wood of the doorframe. “Early tomorrow we can arrange for a car to pick you up from the next town over.” Hushed murmurs climbing up from the cracked floors pulled you from your thought. The voices spoke in an incomprehensible argument.

“I’d quite like to keep...” the words faded in and out.

“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous...”

“What if....”

The floor spoke a soft squeak from beneath your feet as you shifted to get closer to the voices. Their conversation stopped, and you waited with bated breath for it to continue.

“We have to offer someone up tomorrow.” It was Adelina.

“I know, I know.” Marion sounded frustrated. “But you know Mother Miranda prefers only the purest. How are we supposed to know if either of them are-”?

The words faded once more as the two moved from room to room. Walking on the sides of your feet, you followed. Peeking around the corner, your eyes landed on Adelina and Marion illuminated by a flickering fire. They stood close to one another, keeping their tones low.

“Clearly, we offer the frumpy one. Take a look at her. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s unexperienced.” Adelina snickered, taking a seat on the worn couch with her back to you. “She wouldn’t fit in here anyway.”

“The dumb one would get along nicely with our son.”

“I agree.”

A knock at the front door sent a shiver of adrenaline down your spine. Quickly scrambling to hide, you took in a deep breath as Marion passed by with his shotgun in hand. From the parted door, you could see the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Had it really been that long already?

“Are you sure she’s pure?” The new man stood in the doorway rushed past Marion, looking in the direction of the room they had put you in.

“I suppose we could check.” Adelina called, rising to join the others. “The both of them had that tea. They shouldn’t wake until the ceremony later today.”

“Is she in there?”

“Yes, the other one is upstairs.”

“Let’s check this one first.”

With heavy footsteps falling upon the rotting floorboards of the somewhat dilapidated home, you slunk further into the shadows of the room behind you. The glint of something metal caught your attention; a small handgun sat perfectly on a dresser as if set there intentionally for you to find. Holding your breath, you crept forward to it. You’d never shot a gun in your life, but you knew the basics... both hands, check for ammo, rack the slide, pull the trigger. At least, that’s what the movies told you.

“Out of bed so soon, are we?” The soft voice turned malevolent as Adelina appeared in the doorway of the room. “I wouldn’t use that if I were you.” She motioned to the gun that was aimed rather unskillfully for her chest.

“What the fuck is going on in this village?” You spoke with purpose now, tone wavering slightly as Marion stepped behind his wife.

“You don’t understand things around here, girl.” Adelina spat, moving aside as Marion began charging into the room. The loud blast of the gun echoed from the walls of the home followed by a harsh curse and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor. You had shot Marion in the leg; he’d live.

“No,” you started, re-racking the slide as Adelina’s other friend approached wielding a similar gun to your own. Adrenaline washed over your nervous system, your hands shook violently, but you attempted to remain composed. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. This isn’t normal! Tell me what’s going on now or,” your eyes trailed down to Marion who was attempting to control the flow of blood from his wound.

“You wouldn’t.” She laughed bitterly.

“Like hell, I wouldn’t.” You exclaimed, training the gun onto her. “Now tell me, what’s happening here.”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” Adelina’s friend’s words were the last thing you heard before your ears rang and the sting of a bullet burnt white hot in your shoulder. You weren’t sure if your gun ever went off again.

Despite being tied, bathed, dressed, and currently sitting on a freezing alter-of-sorts, you still hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was going on. A crowd of villagers surrounded from the south, all carrying on with a rumble of conversation. Adelina shot daggers at you, Marion as well, from a small, inclined hill at the edge of the crowd. The clothes you wore were your own, she had fished through your backpack claiming that it was of no use to waste a nice dress on “someone like her.” Jezebel was likely still fast asleep at their house.

A woman with the likeness of the framed photo you had seen appeared out of nowhere. So, this was the famous Mother Miranda that everyone regarded so deeply. She stood before you as the crowd’s voices hushed and their eyes became hazed with looks of admiration and devoted appreciation. Surely, she was a human, deities and gods didn’t exist in a physical form, you assured yourself.

Without a word, Miranda moved gracefully as if flowing across the ground to stand before Adelina. Taking her face between her hands, she whispered what you assumed to be praise as Adelina’s lips moved rapidly thanking Miranda. She then moved to Marion and grazed her hand against the wound on his thigh, speaking of how his steadfast devotion would quickly heal any injuries of cruelty spread by evil. When her attention finally fell back to you, she frowned. Stalking around you in circles, Miranda’s imposing figure made you want to shrivel to nothingness.

“Thank you.” She turned to the villagers as if to dismiss them. “When the time comes, I will return for another.”

The black wings you had seen in the photo sprouted from her back, shielding your sight of the villagers as they retreated to their homes. Hopeful cries and shouted blessings to Miranda echoed from the crowd as the village gate slammed. The only evidence of them once populating this empty square were flowers and offerings of fruit and grain left for the supposed goddess.

The world swiftly darkened once more.

Part 2 - Paths Meet

I promise there's more Heisenberg in the next part..

Feedback is always appreciated

[harrys-titties]

Y/N loves her best friend, and Harry’s just good in front of a camera, isn’t he? (Camboy!Harry)

29K+

Warnings/content: a lot of swearing obvs, two stupid friends, smut, (teeny bit of degradation, teeny bit of anal play, 69 and good old fashion fucking,) general unhappiness regarding a part time job, low key shitty parenting and I think that’s it enjoy besties!!! 

(A/N I love you all, please give me feedback if you have it, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy!! Thank you so much for reading xx) 

-masterlist-

Y/N didn't know what she'd done to deserve a friend like Harry. Just like everyone, she had plenty of friends in the past, most had come and gone like waves kissing the shoreline and returning to sea, but Harry was different. He was the best friend Y/N had ever had. Someone she knew she could rely on, someone who would always be there to lean on during life's most challenging moments. He was the friend Y/N wished everyone got to experience at least once in their life. 

No matter what, Harry would always make Y/N a cup of tea in the morning, with one sugar and a dash of milk just how she liked it. He would offer her lifts because she couldn't drive, and even though she always declined his offer, half the time, he would surprise her out the front of wherever she was, a chocolate milkshake waiting for her in the cupholder. He would give her massages when she complained about her sore back and always give her sound advice. He would listen to the music she liked and let her cry on his shoulder each time they watched 'The Titanic' because, god, that door scene just got her every time. 

He would make veggies for dinner when he didn't think she'd been eating enough greens and help her take her makeup off when she was too drunk to do it herself. He would send her funny videos to let her know he was thinking of her (even if he was in the next room over) and would always finish cleaning their shared apartment after Y/N had passed out after scrubbing the floors. 

He was just someone Y/N loved and admired. She didn't know anyone could be out there that was so thoughtful, so perfectly fit to her lifestyle, but he was. 

Y/N's thoughts are confirmed when he walks through the door of her shitty part-time bakery job with an iced almond latte in hand that had her name written all over it. Harry loved the way Y/N's eyes would light up each time he walked through the same creaky old door she loved in the workplace she hated. 

He hands her the drink, "there you are, love," and watches as she immediately takes three giant gulps from the straw. "Careful Y/N, you'll get hiccups," he lightly scolds, laughing as she scowls at him quickly before squeezing his hand. "Thanks, Haz; honestly needed this today. What's the time?" 

Harry looks at the gold watch perched upon his wrist, "four, y'got an hour left." Y/N whines, her head perching back on her shoulders, leaving Harry to examine the red mark sitting plain and pretty against the skin of her neck. "Jesus, is that a hickey?" Y/N's head jerks back down comically, her hand coming to slap against the skin. 

"No!" Harry gives her a look, "I mean...yes. I told her not to leave any, but she was like a bloody leech!" Y/N grumbles, choosing to sweep the crumbs off the counter with her hand instead of looking into his eyes. 

He laughs some, his eyes crinkling around the sides and his dimple indenting into his cheek, "looks more like a vampire attack. Can see the teeth marks n' everything." This does nothing to quell Y/N's embarrassment, only furthers it, her cheeks being met with a rosy red colour that had slowly been creeping from her neck. 

Y/N didn't like to discuss her sex life with Harry; he knew that. He never understood why, she certainly didn't shy away from sex in general. In fact, loved hearing stories of his own and discussing their top tips on how to get a girl off within five minutes. However, as soon as it came down to discussing said sex with a specific person, she shut down. Could hardly say their name without clamming up, her hands going sweaty and cheeks pink. 

"Shut up, asshole. I told her not to be so rough with it" She scowls, Harry only smiling in response. "How long have we been friends? Seven years? Well, button, in all that time, I've never heard you say that before." 

At that, Y/N's face darkens even more, and for his own sake, Harry changes the subject, "I'm thinking chicken stir fry for dinner, thoughts?" 

She screws up her face, "was craving pasta."

He shakes his head, laughing once again, "we had pasta yesterday." 

She turns away from him, grabbing a paper bag and slipping a jam tart, Harry's favourite, into it. "Yeh, but it was shit, didn't have the right tomatoes at the store, remember? Can't you make Alfredo, and I'll make stir-fry tomorrow?" 

Harry sighs, taking the bag from her outstretched hand. They both knew he couldn't say no to her. He nods, leaning over the counter to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Alright, I'll make Alfredo. Bring home some muffins for me." 

She nods, watching him walk out the storefront, "love you, Haz." He stops, holding the door open for an older lady walking in while smiling back at Y/N, "love you more." 

——

Y/N didn't know how she ended up here. Sitting across from Harry and his current fling, who were feeding pasta to each other, with smitten gazes focused on each other. 

Y/N can't say she's repulsed, but something akin to it. Don't get her wrong, she was glad Harry was happy; however, it was more than likely that this new girl, who Y/N didn't even know the name of, wouldn't last longer than a week. 

Harry was unlucky with dating, always quickly picking up people but somehow managing to scare them off within a month. Y/N didn't know why. Harry was the best person she'd ever met. He was thoughtful and caring, and from what she'd seen, he treated his partners with the same dignity and respect he treated her with. Harry claimed he just hadn't found the pea to his pod, to which Y/N would first admonish him for using such a horrible analogy before assuring him they were out there. 

Anyone would be more than lucky to have Harry as a partner. Even Y/N had pined over Harry when they first met. There was just something about him, an energy that couldn't be ignored which drew people in like bees to honey. 

And when Harry had rushed into their criminology lecture, with the most fashionable outfit Y/N had ever seen accompanied by a flush bright against his skin and asked Y/N for a pen, she was smitten. Eventually, her infatuation had dwindled as their friendship had bloomed, however only after months of disappointment each time Harry met another partner, and each time it wasn't Y/N. 

So really, she doesn't blame the girl sitting in front of her because if it were her in the same position, Y/N would probably be acting the same, looking at Harry dreamily and licking the sauce of his fingers. 

It doesn't mean she's happy watching it, though. With a cough, Y/N stands, picks up the half-finished bowl of pasta, which, frankly, she lost her appetite for and puts it in the sink. "I'm gonna head off to bed." 

Harry jerks his head up at that, the girl next to him not even acknowledging Y/N but rather tucking her head into the neck of the boy sitting next to her. 

"What? We said we were gon' watch 'Midsommar' tonight!" Y/N gives him a look of disbelief, gesturing wildly at the woman tucked into his side. Harry rolls his eyes lightly, mouthing "so?" at Y/N, who screws her face up. "No, I don't want to disturb you guys or anything." 

Y/N couldn't believe her ears when a sound of agreeance was heard from the one individual who didn't live in the house, and Y/N watched as Harry pulled back with a confused look on his face. 

Y/N knows what's going to happen before she sees it, "Harry, leave it." 

He looks back at her, shaking his head. "Kelsey, you know Y/N comes with me. She's a part of the deal." Ah, Kelsey, that was her name… pretty. 

Kelsey rolls her eyes, "I know, doesn't mean she has to hang out with us all the time." 

Harry stands up, clearly fuming, and if Y/N was Kelsey, she would back off until he cooled down. "She hasn't said a word to you, and I wanted to watch the movie." 

Kelsey laughs, "fuck this. Between her and…" Harry gives her a glare sharp enough to cut steel, "everything else, this isn't worth it." 

Harry scoffs, "fine, y'know where the door is." Bringing his plate to the sink, he starts washing it, completely disregarding the woman standing in front of him, now standing with an ugly scowl on her pretty face. 

Y/N watches as the girl before her storms out, slamming the door as she leaves, and glances back to Harry, who doesn't even flinch at the loud sound ringing through the kitchen of their small apartment. 

"Harry, what the fuck was that?" It's only then he looks up from the sink, a look of confusion gracing his handsome features. "What?" His eyebrows are drawn in, the bushy growth pulling his eyelids down to obscure half of his eyes. 

"You didn't have to do that! She wasn't the nicest, but she was right; you don't have to do everything with me if you've got… company." Y/N didn't know what else to call the array of strangers that seemed to enter and then vacate their apartment every few weeks. 

"Y/N, she disrespected you. That's, that." Y/N whines, shaking her head, and Harry finally drops the bowl sitting in his hand, giving her his full attention. "Haz, you're never gonna find someone if every time they so much as give me a dirty look, you drop them! It's getting ridiculous, what's this? The third one in two months?" 

This seems to strike a nerve with Harry, who throws his hands up, "Y'my world babe, and if they don't respect that, then they don't deserve a drop of my attention. And you heard her, it's not just you, it's 'everything else.'" He gestures with quotation marks in the air. 

"What is 'everything else' Harry? Because as far as I can see, you're the best guy I know, and these flings don't deserve even a minute of your time! How is it that every single one breaks up with you in a week or so?"

Harry rubs his hands through his hair in frustration, "why are we arguin' about this? You said it yourself. They don't deserve a minute of my time, so good riddance to them!" 

Y/N walks over to him, cradling his cheeks in her small hands and soothes the creases from his brow with her thumb, cooing slightly. "Harry, we aren't fighting; I'm just worried. Know I love ya, and I don't want you to be alone forever because I'm in the picture." 

Y/N doesn't think she's ever been angry at Harry for longer than a few days, he just had that way about him. No matter the situation, if Harry was mad at her, it would eat her up inside until she was just a shell of herself. It was that reason they avoided fighting; Harry knew the negative impact it had on the girl.

Harry grabs her wrists and squeezes, "I'm not going to be alone because I'll have you. I'm fine. Now get your cute bum over to the couch because I bought the triple butter explosion popcorn that you love, and we are going to watch 'Midsommar.'" 

Y/N nods, dropping the subject. If Harry wasn't ready to talk about it, then Y/N wouldn't push, plus she really did love that popcorn. "Alright, alright. Only because of the excellent snack choice." 

Harry rolls his eyes, gently pushing her in the direction of the living room, turning toward the kitchen to make their food. He didn't want to discuss it with Y/N because, god, what would he tell her? There were some secrets he had to keep, even if it was from his best friend. Plus, he was right; no one would be able to replace the space in his heart for her, absolutely no one. 

——

Y/N couldn't decide what was worse. The fact that they had just taken all eight 'Harry Potter' movies off Netflix after she had explicitly planned to marathon them, or the fact that she could very obviously hear her best friends porn and subsequent moans through her bedroom wall. 

The Harry Potter thing sucked, don't get her wrong! She really had been so excited, and Y/N couldn't think of anything worse than psyching yourself up for something only to be miserably let down, especially when Harry Potter was involved.

She had made the plan the second she got into work when a child had smeared a chocolate raspberry cupcake over the entire glass cake cabinet and wall. Nothing could bring her comfort after that, except maybe the thought of ordering pizza, having a bath and tucking into bed to watch her favourite films. She had waited while wiping the frosting off, while polishing the glass, while serving customers and while she was mopping the floors. The thought that she could be home watching her favourite movie being the only salvation from the hell that was her bakery job, only for it to be ruined. 

And while all of that was a nightmare, maybe she could think of something even worse.

Hearing your best friend masturbating through the disturbingly thin walls behind your bed was pretty high up there. She didn't know what to do; Y/N wasn't one to shame others for sexual pleasure. She's fully aware it's a normal part of life, and fuck, she knows if she were in Harry's position, she wouldn't want to be disturbed nor face the embarrassment of knowing he was listening. 

Y/N tried not to listen; she really did, but god, the deliciously raspy moans of the boy she knows so well, made her stomach clench and toes curl. 

How could she possibly ignore the small grunts and whines seeping from the room next to her? She briefly wishes she had told Harry not to put his bed against their shared wall all those years ago when they had first moved in, alas here they were. Y/N tucked in her bed, her blanket covered in frogs wrapped around her shoulders, and Harry, getting his rocks off in the room next to her. 

She wouldn't say anything, she couldn't! Instead, she puts her headphones in and begins to watch 'Twilight' on full volume. 

But Y/N's not sure even Edward could help her forget the sounds erupting from the room behind her. 

——

Y/N tries to forget the sound of Harry's moans, she really did, but it was proving to be slightly tricky. She seems to wake in a daze, the morning moving past sluggishly, as if she's on autopilot, going through the motions, showering, making her tea and breakfast and sitting on the balcony, nothing more than a shell of herself. It's only when the boy in question joins her on the balcony that she snaps out of her stupor. 

It's Harry's hand that is placed on her shoulder with a gentle squeeze that scares her first, and then his calming voice, laced with sleep, "morning pup. How'd you sleep?" 

She startles, lost looking out into the city streets in front of their apartment. She takes a moment to respond, busy thinking of the hand still resting on her bare shoulder and thinking of exactly what that hand was doing last night, a blush quickly arising on her cheeks. 

"Uh.. yeah, good, you?" 

He hums, "like a baby." His lips turn up in a smirk, his other hand holding the teacup to his mouth, as he takes a huge sip, letting the liquid burn his throat slightly. While Y/N still couldn’t look him in the eye, she allowed herself to admire him for a minute, looking at the way the sun shone on his naturally tanned skin, his hand grasping the mug strong and adorned with his usual rings. She blinks at the lion-head ring she had gotten him for his last birthday, sitting pretty on his middle finger and shining directly into her eyes.

She remembers spending weeks looking for that exact ring, seeing it on a model in vogue and instantly knowing Harry would fall in love with it. It had taken her so much time to find and more than a pretty penny, and Harry must have known because he never took it off. Y/N can't remember the last time she had seen his right hand without it, the heavy jewellery constantly weighing his dainty finger down. 

"Also, mum was talkin' about dinner tonight and wanted to know if you'd come too?" 

She can hardly contain the smile that flits across her face, the comforting memories of Harry's family floating through her head working on floating through her whole body, warming her against the early morning chill. "Yeh, I'd love to." 

His smile matches hers, broad and genuine. "Think she wanted to try the Italian place, y'know the one we went to for Elissa's birthday?" 

"Yeah, that'd be lovely." He squeezes her shoulder once more, and Y/N blushes as she feels butterflies erupt from deep within her tummy and through her fingertips. 

She had to stop before these innocent feelings got too out of hand.

—— 

The restaurant was busy, buzzing with budding conversations over candlelight, and Y/N instantly felt comfortable in the atmosphere. It was dark enough so that she couldn't see Anne's smiling face as soon as she walked in, but the candles illuminating each table gave a familiar glow, a golden hue marking each patron's face. 

Harry placed his hand on her lower back, gently nudging her forward, and she jumped at the touch, still not getting over exactly what she had heard last night. He gives her an odd look, motioning with his head for her to continue walking. As she walked further, she saw Anne, sitting there as beautiful as always, waving to the couple. Anne instantly gets up, embracing Y/N in a huge hug, radiating with a maternal love that, as much as she wished she had, Y/N had never quite experienced. 

"Oh, my gorgeous girl! Look at you; you look beautiful as always. How have you been? How's work?" Before Y/N even begins to get a chance to answer the bombardment of questions, she hears Harry laugh behind her and feels him placing both of his warm hands on her bare shoulders. "Maybe let her sit down first, mum!" Y/N slips out of his touch once more, while Anne looks at Harry with a look only a mother could give, reprimanding and filled with annoyance, with an underlying essence of love. Harry doesn’t notice as Y/N moves to sit down, too busy with his mothers embrace, Anne squeezing Harry in the same way she had just hugged her. 

She pours everyone at the table some water as she sees Anne murmuring something into Harry's ear, so quietly Y/N had no chance of hearing. Suddenly, his mother pulls back, giving Harry that same admonishing look, while Harry just grins, rolls his eyes and nods his head. 

Anne sits down next to Y/N, grabbing her hand and squeezing in a fashion that's so similar to her sons it almost scares Y/N. "So, my love. How are you? Harry's told me you're still working at the bakery?" Y/N looks over at Harry sitting across from both of them, with a look of admiration in his eyes and quickly glances away. For some reason, unbeknownst to Y/N, he always loved when his best friend and mother were together, almost like both women in his life were cohesive and complete.

"I'm good, thanks, Anne, and yes, still at the bakery, unfortunately. How’s Gem? I heard she was planning on travelling to France!" 

Anne's face first becomes strict, her features firming up, "not 'unfortunately!' You'll find something that puts a spring in your step soon, I promise." Then it perks up, the mention of her daughter working as an excellent mood booster, "yes, she is! You know my children, both wayward souls, at this point it's easier to just agree with them." Y/N feels the warmth and something akin to love spread through her at Anne's assurance. While she had her own mother, Anne was the closest thing Y/N would consider to a motherly figure in her life, always there for love and comfort. 

Harry laughs at Anne's phrasing, probably because he knew it was correct. "Glad to see you've finally realised, mum. Now, what are we ordering? I'm starving." He looks to Y/N, whose head is buried in her menu. She lifts it once she realises Harry is looking at her., and shrugs her shoulders, "I'm thinking of the...” she pauses to read directly off the menu, “creamy tagliatelle dish." The Italian word awkwardly bouncing off her tongue. 

Harry nods, looking down to read the information about it, before quickly shaking his head. "They serve it with mushrooms in it here." Y/N instantly screws her face up, and even though she may be embarrassed about what she had heard last night, she's glad Harry had taken six years of Italian because, if she was honest, she hadn't bothered to read the information regarding the dish, all written in a language she couldn't speak. 

A small smile graces Harry's face as he shakes his head, watching as she scans the menu in a panic, no doubt spying the server on their way to take the tables order. "Their carbonara is delicious. It has pecorino romano in it, which you liked last time we had it." It's almost comical how relieved she suddenly looks, and she finds herself thanking the stars that Harry often knew what she wanted quicker than she even did. 

He holds back his laugh, looking over to his mum, who gives him a knowing look, which he promptly ignores. 

He and Y/N were friends; that wouldn't change regardless of what his mum thought. 

----

Y/N didn't think she could come up with anything worse than overhearing Harry pleasuring himself, but it turns out the universe provided something even more horrifying. 

When she had walked into the cute little bakery that had become her personal hell over the last few years only to be met with her boss and an exhaled, "we need to talk," Y/N thought the universe, or god or anyone that was up there had really done all they could to meet that quota. 

Fuck, Y/N knew she hated that job, but she needed it. How was she supposed to pay her rent? What was she to do day after day? She needed something in her life, even if it was a shitty part-time job. After she'd dropped out of uni, work was all she had, that and Harry's company. 

What was she supposed to do now? Her mum’s birthday was coming up, she could barely afford to buy her a present on the wage she was earning now, let alone on nothing, and Y/N was not one to skip out on gift-giving, always prided herself on picking out the gifts she deemed perfect and wrapping them beautifully. 

Y/N just makes it out of the store as she breaks down, calling Harry immediately, the awkwardness she felt about the incident occurring a few nights ago, wholly forgotten. Sobs erupt from her choked throat as he answers her call. “Hi pet,” Harry heard the cries travelling through the phone and immediately stopped what he was doing. “Pet?”...nothing. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” A sense of urgency enters his voice as he still doesn’t receive a reply from Y/N. 

The only thing she can get out is a pathetic choke, and a “got fired.” Harry gasps, “oh god, are you still there? Where are you, babe?” 

“Yeh. ‘M still here. Going to get the train home.” She hiccups. 

“Stay there Y/N, I’m coming to pick you up.” He says with a sense of finality, and Y/N knows there’s no point arguing because Harry sure was stubborn when he wanted to be. 

“Okay, love you.” And Harry’s heart almost breaks in two as he hears his best friend in tears, her voice only a small whisper. “I love you too.” 

Y/N doesn’t know what happened between the time she hung up on Harry and when he pulled up in front of her, exiting the car with a sympathetic look on his handsome face. She knows she sat down on the curb, the concrete so cold on her ass that if she were in any other situation, it would be unbearable, but from there, it’s all a blur. 

As soon as he sees her, a frown forms in the centre of his face, his handsome features being pinched inwards. As he pulls her into a hug, Y/N can’t even begin to explain how thankful she is for his familiar scent, for comfort she had no chance of bringing to herself. 

“C’mon, lovey, let’s get you home.” 

Harry opens the door for her, grabbing her arm to help her get into the lowered seat, and she spies a chocolate milkshake in the cup holder, and Y/N thinks that if she wasn’t already crying, that would have been the breaking point. She feels fresh tears tickle her waterline as she reaches for the drink and takes a huge sip. 

She knows from the look he gives her when he sits down that he wants to scold her for drinking too quickly, but one look at her tear-stained face, and he’s swallowing his words almost as fast as she’s swallowing the chocolate milkshake. 

—— 

Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever cried like this. The only instance that comes close is when she found out her boyfriend had cheated on her when she was twenty-one. For a week, she had stayed holed up in her tiny apartment, Harry being the only comfort. But even then, she can’t recall crying like this. 

Each new round of tears is the same heartbreaking, bone aching type. The type that hurts your eyes and leaves your body exhausted and weary from the exertion of releasing them. But she just can’t stop. Each time she thinks she’s done, something else pushes her over the edge, and she begins again. 

She didn’t know why she was so upset; she really did hate that awful job. Maybe it was because that awful job was the last thing she felt gave her purpose.

She had dropped out of uni, dumped her previously mentioned cheating boyfriend, ditched her friends who knew about it but didn’t tell her and moved in with Harry on a whim. She didn’t know what she was doing or where she was going, and it seemed everyone around her (including Harry) did. 

Harry was intelligent and successful; he was completing his PhD in criminology and loved every minute of it. Y/N had struggled through the first two years of university before it became too much. Barely managed to meet deadlines, chose to sleep rather than go to lectures and only stayed the second year because she’d met Harry. 

Harry had no trouble finding partners, where Y/N struggled to even find a connection with the people she slept with. Each new partner, a random person she’d met at a club, so drunk their faces blurred into one, each time morphing into something similar to the brown-haired, green-eyed boy she lived with. 

Harry had a loving family, a mother and sister who lived close and called him at least twice a week, and while Y/N’s mum tried her best, she was all she had. No siblings, no cousins and barely a phone call a month. 

Y/N had no fucking hope, it seemed. 

While she may not have realised it, this bakery job seemed to be the last string tying all of the bullshit weighing on her together in a neat little bow, and it appeared that string had just been severed. 

To Harry’s credit, he had been very understanding, and Y/N doesn’t think she would’ve even made it home if it wasn’t for his love and compassion. But even he was nearing his breaking point. 

It had been an hour and a half, and Y/N would not stop crying.  He had tried everything. Made her the chamomile and lavender tea her dad used to make for her before he passed away. He’d turned on ‘The Simpsons’, which usually distracted her enough to stop her crying, and he’d wrapped her in her favourite frog blanket after putting it in the dryer. He had hugged her, wrapped his arms around her and held her body against his own, and still, she wept.  

Nothing was working. 

Y/N stayed shivering and snivelling, each sob cause and violent wrack of her body to scare Harry even more. He was at a loss. He sits next to her, picking her head up in his hands, cradling both of her cheeks only to be met with the blank stare she had been sporting since she first got into his car. 

God, the sight was enough to make his heart crack, her eyes puffy and red, new tears forming after the last ones had just fallen, her cheeks flushed and raw. And Harry can’t fucking take it. His arms, hands, words and eyes aren’t bringing her any comfort, so he does the only thing he can think of, the only thing that might take her mind off everything; he kisses her.

Maybe it’s because he thinks it might be a comfort, perhaps he just feels so sad for her, or maybe Harry believes both of them need a bit of support. Whatever it is, he kisses her, lips soft and innocent, barely pressing against hers before retreating again. Her lips are chapped and raw, just like everything else seemed to be, and she looks up at him in owlish surprise. 

A breath of air leaves her, heavy and weighted before she presses her lips against his again, this time slightly harder, her desperation and need seeming to seep through her pores. 

Harry whines, his movements becoming more frantic as hers do, each nip and lick sending tingles through Harry’s mouth all the way down to his tummy. 

Y/N can’t fucking believe they’re kissing; she doesn’t know why or how, just knows that this is the calmest she’s been since she gotten fired, her frantic energy being displaced into the movements of their mouths. His tongue sweeps against hers in large gestures, the action soft compared to the harshness of their lips against each other. 

And Y/N doesn’t stop, not until their kisses have turned into gentle pecks, and both their breathing is less than natural. Finally, they pause when Y/N feels if she didn’t allow air into her lungs in that second, she might pass out and when Harry’s lips are sore and spit slicked. Immediately Y/N digs her face into Harry’s neck, her sobs now only shivers slipping down her spine.

And when Harry looks down, he notices she’s asleep. It seemed every emotion and worry had finally caught up to her in an avalanche of sleepiness until she couldn’t hold her head up or keep her eyes open. And Harry doesn’t dare let her go, holds her exactly like that for the rest of the night until darkness kisses the morning sun hello. 

——

Y/N wakes up in a confused daze; it felt as if yesterday had been a fever dream, something she had concocted in her head that had no hope of being real. First, she lost her job, and then Harry, of all people, had kissed her. Two things that Y/N would never have guessed would happen, let alone on the same day. 

Why did he do it? She can’t imagine she would’ve been the image of raw sex appeal with her snivelling and snotty nose. Alas, he had kissed her, soft and sweet, and it confused Y/N to no end. 

She guesses it was a comfort thing, although she’d never been comforted quite like that. But it worked; instantly, it felt like the thousands of thoughts running through her head went silent, every prick of consciousness focused intently on the feeling of Harry’s lips against hers. 

And what a feeling it was. She didn’t want to overthink it, really didn’t want to add meaning into something he may deem meaningless, so she decides not to mention it, to let it settle in their brains like sea waves after a storm, erratic at first, then calm and lulled. 

It’s then she realises the boy she had fallen asleep on was not there. Was he at work already? The clock on the living room wall showed it had just passed ten, which was unusual but not surprising. The intense amount of grief and sadness sweeping through her yesterday undoubtedly left her exhausted and drained, and a decent sleep in was needed, she supposed. 

She needed to get up. Needed to move her stiff limbs, every joint aching and dry, like sandpaper rubbing against stone each time she tried to move. She pushes through the uncomfortable feeling, choosing to make a cup of tea before anything else. As she reaches for the silver kettle sitting on the stove, she sees a handwritten note placed on the counter, the messy scrawl of the letters evident of Harry’s hand. 

“Hi, bug!! Sorry, I had to leave :( I’ll be home at 6, and I’ll bring pizza for dinner. Love you xx.” 

Y/N can’t help the smile that slips itself onto her face, the movement unfamiliar after yesterday, her cheeks almost as stiff as her limbs. As she rereads the note, she feels a flush reach her cheeks as she once again remembers the kiss they shared. 

She desperately wants to know how he felt about it. Did he feel the same shakiness and clammy palms when he recalled precisely what happened? Did the idea of Y/N’s lips on his again send shivers through his spine and a pool of something to form in his lower belly?

Did he want to kiss her again too?

——

Turns out it was harder than previously anticipated to completely ignore that the kiss ever happened. 

First off, it was Harry's choice to pick the movie that night and of course, he chose 'The Notebook', which really wouldn't have been an issue if every time a sex or even remotely romantic scene came on, Y/N didn't immediately think of their precarious position last night on this very couch. 

Surely he wasn't immune to it. Was it not as memorable for him as it was for Y/N? He seemed so unaffected, so painfully normal that she didn't know what to think. 

Secondly, each time Y/N looked over at Harry, she couldn't help but notice details she never had before. Like how his lips pursed around his slice of pizza and the way the grease made them look spit slicked and red after he'd just taken a bite. Or the way his hands perched around the cup as he was drinking his coke, each vein and ring reminding Y/N of how they felt perched around her cheeks instead. Even his hair, which she had always loved, held a new meaning; she knew how the strands felt when she was pulling them when they slipped through her fingertips and fell against his neck. 

And finally, she is reminded again after a phone call with Harry's mum, which takes the direction it usually does, with Anne asking if there were any romantic prospects on the horizon. And well, Harry just scoffs, shaking his head and denying her like he always does. And it's not like Y/N was expecting him to tell Anne of their recent exchange, but at this point, it's the nail in the coffin.

Did he really not care? 

He thought absolutely nothing of it, and while Y/N thought she was in the same boat, she can't quite explain the sinking feeling she experiences in her chest and all the way down to her tummy. 

They spend the rest of the night watching movies and relaxing, and Y/N tries to forget everything she was feeling. Tries her hardest to just enjoy spending time with her best friend and to revel in the greasy food and the shitty movies they've both seen a thousand times. 

The kiss didn't mean anything. She knew that. 

—-

It had been a week since Y/N had lost her job and three days since she'd been trying to get a new one. 

She hated the process of finding jobs, the bullshit CV's, the snobby clothes, the nervous answers to pointless questions and the nail-biting wait for a response. She hated it all, and if living at home in her pj's with Harry's company was an option, then she would take it in a heartbeat. 

Alas it was not, and it's that fact that brings her here, standing outside the doors of a faint little pub, big letters standing proud above the storefront, spelling; 

T H E  H A R P 

Each window was made of stained glass, as if that of a church, although, rather than religious imagery, a harp was formed in the centre of each pane. Medium-sized bushes with colourful flowers erupting from the greenery hung underneath the name, the petals swaying each time a gust of wind blew through the street. It was quaint and homey, and while Y/N had no clue of what or who stood inside the pub, the outside brought her a sense of comfort she had not felt for a long time. 

She steps inside, instantly feeling an increase in temperature, the adjustment causing a shiver to wrack through her. The interior was even more eclectic than the exterior; on her left, the bar, covered with thousands of beer labels, each one a different size and colour covering the wood so completely, she couldn't tell the colour of it underneath. 

The place seemed empty like usually it was bustling and loud and had now resorted to grieving the missing noise until later in the day. It was only ten o'clock, the sign on the door stating they opened at 11:30. Y/N had been in contact with the owner over the last few days, first applying online before an email had asked her for an interview in person. 

Y/N has a sense that the person behind those messages was young, with a particular type of boyish charm, each text or email ending with a series of exclamation marks and unnecessary emojis. But she appreciated the attitude, allowing it to bring some sort of comfort to her that maybe this interview wouldn't be as daunting and awkward as the last few had been. 

The second she sees a man approaching from the back, she believes it to be him, his blue eyes bright and lively, and his walk flamboyant and slightly obnoxious. It's when he opens his mouth, Y/N suspicions are confirmed. With a huge smile lighting up his face, he approaches her heartedly, "hi! I'm Niall, y'must be Y/N." 

Y/N greets him with her biggest smile, the very obvious Irish lilt in his voice reminding her of the visits to her grandfather before he had passed. Just like him, it seemed each word that left Niall's mouth was hugged and skewed until it escaped in a flurry, the accent endearing and unique.  

"Hi, yeh, that's me! It's so nice to meet you." His grin only seems to widen, which Y/N wouldn't have thought was possible, and he turns on his heel, motioning for her to follow. As they enter into the belly of the pub, the atmosphere seems to become even more homely, each wall filled with some sort of knick-knack or piece of artwork that was worthy of Y/N's attention. As they walk, Niall begins to speak again. 

"So, this is actually my dad's pub, but I run it; the old man's never around enough to properly manage it! We've been around since 'bout 1805," Y/N awes, looking around once more, the weathered but cosy condition of the building surrounding them suddenly making sense. Niall smiles, her interest slightly winsome. 

"Honestly, your CV looked great! I think you'll pick things up quickly here anyway; it's pretty simple." 

Y/N struggles to keep up with him, the walls slightly distracting, but that pricks her attention. "Sorry, did I get the job?" Niall bursts out laughing, the sound loud and animated, "yeh! I think you'll be a great fit here!" 

Y/N could've almost hugged him; she was so happy. "Oh wow, thank you! I think I will too. I'm excited to start." Finally, they reach the back of the pub, a large door leading into what appears to be an office. 

The space is ample, filled with stained woods and leather, and there's a distinct smell of old books and some sort of sandalwood scent, which would appear to be coming from the candle that’s lit on the desk in front of her. 

"Have a seat, my love, and we'll discuss you startin'." 

——

Well, Y/N's not going to lie and say she wasn't upset because the thing was, she definitely is. 

She wasn't upset when she'd left The Harp, the complete opposite actually. She felt like she was on a high, a feeling she had become unfamiliar with over the last few years, the excitement foreign but worthy of embracing. 

She wasn't upset when she'd stopped at the cutest little handmade pastry shop to buy a few treats for Harry and her to celebrate her job interview success, even grabbing two jam tarts so Harry could have one tomorrow too. 

She definitely wasn't upset on the elevator ride up to their apartment, the rickety ride not nearly as painful when she was in such a good mood. 

And she wasn't in a bad mood when she'd burst through the door, busting to tell Harry the good news. 

However, she was upset when Harry had given her a hug and congratulations before turning down her invitation to celebrate because he was too tired. 

She was more than upset. Actually, she was livid. 

It felt as if Harry had been right there with her through this challenging period. He had wiped her tears, cuddled her, distracted her, even kissed her to make her feel better, and now that she had somehow made it out the other side, he was too tired to celebrate? 

Y/N was upset and frustrated, and she just wanted to drink too much shitty wine with her friend and eat her weight in pastries. Alas, she had only nodded, not wanting to make a scene, "if you're sure you're too tired." 

Harry had nodded back, a look of remorse crossing his features before they became neutral again. "Yeh bug, we can celebrate tomorrow." Y/N agreed, willing herself not to cry; she would not cry in front of him, wouldn't allow him to see how he impacted her. 

"I'm just gonna go to bed then. I'm tired too." 

He had leaned in to hug her, wrapping his arms around her torso, and Y/N reciprocated the hug, sighing into the comfort his embrace brings, even if she was upset with him. 

Y/N finds herself in bed, alone, wrapped up in her frog blanket, upset once again. How many nights would she end up in the same circumstance? At least she was more hopeful this time around. Things were looking up, she had a job that she was excited to start, and Y/N was in a much better mental state than she was before she lost her bakery job and definitely in a better state than after she had. 

It didn't stop her from feeling upset that Harry had refused to celebrate, even if he'd stayed up with her for an hour or so, hell she'd only gotten home at 8 o'clock. 

But it seems like Y/N has pretty lousy luck because what could possibly make her feel worse?

Her best friends fucking moans, once again seeping through from the room next to her. Except for this time, there were mumblings, giggles and knocks mixed with the moans. 

Y/N wouldn't consider herself nosy, but for god's sake, surely he wasn't with someone else after he'd just blown Y/N off, claiming to be too tired. Surely. No, Y/N wasn't nosy, but for tonight, she would be. She stands up and leans against the wall, pressing her ear against the light blue wallpaper. And what she hears makes her even angrier and even more upset. 

Harry was moaning and also definitely talking to someone and what Y/N hears almost makes her pass out. 

“Are y’gonna act like a little slut, or are you gonna behave? Hm? Don’t make me tie you up.”

Y/N should not be turned on. She should be furious. She should be running next door and interrupting whatever he felt was more important than spending time with her. 

What she shouldn’t be doing is imagining Harry saying that to her, imagining him perched above her, his ring-adorned fingers wrapped around her throat, his face harsh as stone while he felt how wet she was with his other hand. 

She was confused. Y/N could honestly safely say she had never felt the prickle of arousal while on the verge of tears that weren’t from anything but pleasure, that’s for sure. She was hurt, she was upset, and she didn’t know if it was more the fact Harry had blown her off and lied about it, or the fact she wasn’t in the room with him, the words being spat at Y/N, for her to taste and swallow. 

While she already knew to some degree it was upsetting to get a confirmation, at least now she definitely knew the kiss meant nothing to him. 

——

Y/N wakes up in a state of confusion. She had forgotten to shut her blinds last night, the harsh morning sun shines directly into her eyes, and Y/N couldn’t think of anything worse than getting up and closing them. 

Instead, she allows herself to bask in the peacefulness of the morning beginning without her, outside of her window, taking a few deep breaths and listening intently for the birds chirping. She allows herself to think briefly of all that happened yesterday, the happiness of finally getting a new job, and the despair of hearing Harry with someone else, specifically after just blowing her off. It was upsetting and something she would desperately try not to think of, tuning back into the bird calls and city sounds outside of her room. 

She gets up slowly, allowing herself to become accustomed to each new trickle of fresh air that assaults her skin as she slips her bed cover off, running to the chair which held her fluffy cloud pyjama pants and slipping them on. While her matching slippers were usually sitting next to her desk, they were not there, and Y/N briefly cursed under her breath at the thought of having to walk off the carpet of her bedroom onto the freezing floors covering the rest of the house.

She walks into the kitchen, the tiles cold on her unprotected toes, each step sending a shock through her feet and ankles. At least the rest of the house was warm. Harry always insisted on leaving the heat to an almost stifling temperature every night, and it was something they used to argue over when they first moved in together. 

For Y/N, the extra money on the electricity bill wasn’t worth it, but if she was being truthful, now, it’s something she had come to appreciate. It was relieving to leave the comfort of your bed into a house that was just as cosy, and the tiles were only a temporary discomfort. 

If only the house was as comfy as Y/N was used to. If only the floors were her biggest issue and not the uncomfortable energy surrounding her. She was worried she would see Harry, and she hated that, hated feeling awkward and out of place in her own home. While she had told herself she would try and alleviate her sadness by not thinking of what had happened between them, she just couldn’t help it. The more she thought about it, the more she didn’t know if she’d be able to face Harry as his usual bubbly self and pretend she wasn’t anything less than upset with him. 

Alas, she begins to make breakfast, heating the pan on the stove and grabbing the eggs and bacon from the fridge. As she begins cooking, she hears the creek of Harry’s door and freezes some; she didn’t want to come face to face with whoever was with him last night. 

No, she could do this. She was an adult. 

Luckily for her, the same familiar flop of curls and tanned skin walks around the corner, dressed in only a pair of flannel pyjama pants, his tan chest on display, his tattoos swaying as he did. 

“Morning, babe!!” Y/N flinches at the slightly jarring and over-enthusiastic tone that Harry always sported in the early hours of the day, always claiming it was “motivating.”

“Mornin’ Haz.” At this, Harry slightly freezes. He knew she wasn’t the best in the mornings, hell she was right awful, but there was something different about her tone. Something sad and honestly slightly hopeless. It was the same tone she had used when she’d found out Liam had been cheating on her, the same tone as when she’d lost her job and the same tone as when Harry had accidentally broken the pocket watch her father had left her. It was a tone that was cracked and broken like all the hope had seeped from the inside, puddled on the floor below her. 

“Y’alright Y/N?” She turns slightly, so Harry could see her face, her eyebrows sloped and furrowed, and her mouth in a straight line across her face. 

“Yeh, I’m fine, just tired. Y’know my mattress isn’t all that good. I need to get a new one.” Harry hums in agreement. A few years ago, Y/N’s mattress had formed a dip in the middle, and the part-time working girl could not justify spending the thousands to buy a new one. 

Harry doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t seem just tired. Usually, when she was sleepy, her eyes would droop, and every few minutes, her face would contort into an eye-watering yawn. No, something was wrong, and Harry knew she wouldn’t talk about it. She never did. So he does the next best thing and makes a cheeky comment, hoping to prick a reaction out of her. 

“Hm, could just sleep on mine if you wanted?” 

Y/N accidentally drops the spatula in her hand and hears the small gasp of shock that leaves his mouth in response. She doesn’t know what to say. One part of her enjoys the drop of pleasure that lands in the pool of her tummy, spreading warmth through her lower half. 

And the other half is fucking annoyed. Why did he insist on kissing her, blatantly flirting with her and calling her pet names, only to sleep with other people? She knows it doesn’t mean anything, but god, it didn’t make it hurt any less. 

She wants to stop herself. She really does. But the next sentence that leaves her mouth forces its way from the bottom of her spine, up her throat and into the air between them. And she desperately wants to take them back, grab them from the space in front of her and shove them back into her mouth, but she can’t. And Harry’s face just confirms that. 

“Whoever you had in your room last night might disagree with you.” Harry’s face seems to express his emotions perfectly, each one flitting across his face as he feels them. 

First shock, she’d never said something so blunt or daring before to anyone, let alone to him. Harry was her soft spot, the one person she always had doe eyes for, and he’s never been on the end of any sort of negative emotion that wasn’t more than annoyance. 

Then confusion, did she say someone was in his room last night? Harry definitely had not had someone with him, he wishes he had, but he genuinely hadn’t. He was alone all night, and the only thing he can think is she may have heard him… pleasuring himself. 

There’s a prick of arousal that tingles through him at the thought of Y/N listening to him getting himself off, but it’s quickly replaced by sadness. Is that what she was upset about? Harry doesn’t want to hurt anyone, and the fact that him spending the night with someone after he’d blown her off had made her this unsettled; well, it hurt him. More than that, it broke his heart to think of her alone in her room, hearing what she thought was Harry with someone else, believing he wanted to be anywhere but with her, celebrating her success. He didn’t want to leave her, he really didn’t, but he had to. And he wasn’t ready to explain to her why. 

He laughs slightly, breaking the silence between them, “what are you talkin’ about, pet? I didn’t have anyone in my room.” The look he gives her breaks his heart even further. It’s one filled with disbelief like she was so used to being let down that she wasn’t even bothering to convince him she believed his lies. 

“Don’t bother lying. It’s fine, H, you can do what you want.” Harry feels frustration travelling through his veins, and he does everything he can to stop it from showing in his face. “Y/N, I didn’t have anyone over. You can believe what you want, but I didn’t.” 

Y/N takes a second. Did she want to admit it? Did she want to admit that she heard him, heard his sounds of pleasure, his filthy words? At this point, she didn’t care anymore. If he wanted to blow her off to blow someone else off, well, she wasn’t going to convince him it was okay because she didn’t think it was. 

“I heard you, Harry.” The words fell heavy into the kitchen air, while she had barely whispered the words to Harry, she may as well have been screaming. He feels panic bubble up his skin, the feeling burning and overwhelming. 

“I dunno what you bloody heard, but I wasn’t fucking anyone.” The words are strained. Y/N had never heard Harry sound like this before, each syllable hoarse, like he had to push and force each one out of his throat. 

“Whatever, let’s just drop it.” 

“No, no, don’t do that Y/N. You always do this, don’t shut me out. Please.” And Y/N doesn’t know what he wants from her. She pushed the issue initially, frustrated and annoyed, and she could tell he was panicking, could hear the way the emotion strained his vocal cords. Yet she backed off, and he didn’t want that either, wanted her to open up to him. 

But how was she supposed to do that? How could she admit that the thought of him with someone else while she celebrated her successes alone killed her? How could she tell him that the thought of his lips on anyone’s but her own sent her into a spiral, sent a lick of frustration and a flicker of heat shooting through her spine? 

She couldn’t. 

“Please, Harry,” she looks at him, a pleading look in her eye, and the emotion in them almost brings him to tears. “Please. I don’t want to fight right now. Can we just talk about this later?” 

He feels disappointment fill the void that her sadness had opened, and he nods. 

Because fuck, what else was he supposed to do? 

——

Y/N hadn’t really seen Harry in four days. Usually, this would be a cause for concern, but she took it as a bit of a blessing. She’d been working every day since their argument, waking up at 9, getting to The Harp at 10 to help set up and not leaving until 11 o’clock at night. 

It was exhausting, but she wanted to learn the ins and outs of working there, so she was doing double shifts to pick things up as quickly as possible. Niall was happy, he had a worker passionate about learning how to master her shifts, and he could slack off a bit with the added help around in the afternoon. 

When Y/N woke up, Harry was already gone for work, and when she got home, he was already in bed. In some sense, it was unnatural for them to be apart for so long. In the time they’d known each other, they had rarely spent longer than two days apart. Before they moved in, they made sure to have sleepovers at least every second day, painting each other’s nails and discussing the possibility of them living together until it finally happened. 

Harry was a massive part of Y/N’s life, making up at least half her heart, and she hated that it felt as if a chunk of him was missing. He had messaged her last night asking how work was going, and she’d replied briefly, but when had they ever relied on small talk to keep their friendship afloat? Usually, Harry could tell what she thought before Y/N had even thought it herself. He could read her body language like his favourite book, and by one look in her eyes could determine what the best course of action would be. 

Y/N hadn’t even looked him in the eyes for four whole days. 

When they do finally see each other, after Y/N had left her shift at The Harp earlier than usual, it’s akin to a movie. Y/N feels the slow-motion set in as she meets his eyes from his spot in the kitchen and hers in the front doorway. She drops her bags and walks straight into Harry’s arms, outstretched. 

She missed his familiar smell, like tobacco and vanilla, and the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around hers. God, she even missed his hair tickling her neck and his extreme warmth- something akin to a kitten or a heat pack, she always thought. His breath tickles her ear as he whispers into it, “missed you, ’m sorry.” 

Y/N sighs; while she missed him, she was grateful they hadn’t had to discuss the fight, and as she’s about to mumble her own response, what she hears stops her dead. 

“Y/N! Is that you?” The shrill voice of her mother rings from around the corner, and the second she looks into Harry’s eyes, filled with sympathy and something like an apology, she knows he was about to warn her of the intrusion into her own home. 

Y/N loved her mother; she really did. But she was slightly aloof, always going on vacations, too busy to visit Y/N or check-in and only calling once a month at the most. On the occasions when they would be in contact, her mother was overbearing and nosy, like she felt the right to make decisions in the life of her daughter that she had little part of. 

Yes, Y/N loved her, but it didn’t stop her from dreading the sporadic visits Harry and her were graced with. 

“Mum! Hi, it’s been a while.” While Y/N forces the emotion into her voice, a genuine smile sneaks its way into her face. It really had been so long, and she would try and relish in the feeling before she eventually became fed up with her presence. 

“Yes, darling, too long!” Her mother envelopes her into a big hug, her embrace not all that familiar but comforting all the same. “Luckily, Harry was here to take care of me; he’s such a lovely boy. He said you’ve been working a lot lately.” 

Y/N somewhat rolls her eyes at this. While everyone was attracted to Harry, mothers were a separate concern, usually gravitating towards him as if he was their own son, and her mother was no different. She was anything but immune to Harry’s charm and was constantly prodding Y/N to ‘make her move’ and ‘seal the deal.’ 

Of course, Y/N had always ignored her mother’s prompting, insisting they were just friends, and that was that. 

With a quick look in Harry’s direction, she sees he picked up on the subtle nod towards him, apparent in the slight smirk on his face as he looks at Y/N, waiting on her response. She gives him a small raise of her eyebrows and a roll of her eyes, “yep, he’s a good one,” before looking back at her mother, “and works been crazy. Just trying to get used to everything, it’s always stressful starting at a new place.” Her mother nods, a look of sympathy crossing her round eyes before she turns back to Harry, “and what about you, my dear? How’s work been?” 

Harry smiles politely at her, “yeh guitar stores alright, the PhD has been a bit overwhelming at the moment.” He looks in Y/N’s direction, a warm smile on his face, “’s the new boss treating y’alright?” 

In that moment, Y/N’s mum may as well not have been there. This was Harry’s way of checking in on her, knowing if it was him asking the same question her mother had asked, he would be prying harder, asking more, caring as much as he could, not moving on to the topic of his own life so quickly. Y/N finds herself nodding once more, “he’s really nice. Think you two would get on really well.” His grin lights up his face, knowing her previous boss was a real piece of work, “maybe I’ll have to come in for a pint!” 

She exhales gently, and Harry watches as a smile graces her pretty face, her hair a mess and her eyes droopy and tired, as she nods in agreeance, “yeh, y’might have to.” 

His smile only widens. “I’m cookin’ dinner, by the way.” Harry knew they’d have to talk about their fight eventually, but for now, he’d much prefer to continue along in this bliss. Pretend nothing was wrong, that they’d just spent too long apart and were now simply enjoying each other’s company. 

Dinner passes smoothly, the chatter seemingly revolving around her mother and Harry, all thanks to the woman in question. Y/N’s beginning to wear thin, her energy for socialising beginning to dwindle, and when her mother asks, “so, when are you two finally going to get together?” well, it becomes non-existent. Y/N drops her fork, the sound a sharp shatter in the silence that had swallowed the room whole after her question was asked, “mum! I already told you…” but she’s interrupted by Harry’s familiar and melodic laugh.

It’s a charming sound, and if Y/N wasn’t so annoyed, she would allow herself to feel comforted by it. “One day, she’ll come home with a ring; I can promise you that.” Y/N sighs, her nostrils flaring and her head lowering. If Harry wasn’t there, she might have indulged in a scolding of her mother, words cutting and sharp, but something about Harry’s presence dampened the fire in her belly. “Exactly, I’ll find someone eventually. Need some time after Liam to just be by myself anyway.” 

Y/N was looking at her mother, but Harry looking directly at her catches her attention. She watches as he seems lost for a second, his eyes slightly widening, eyebrows furrowing, and his head cocking, before he begins slowly nodding, giving her a tight-lipped smile before looking down at his dinner again, his hair falling into his face, so Y/N couldn’t see his eyes.

The silence is deafening, each member of the table looking between their food and each other. Y/N doesn’t know what to say. Harry was the one she usually relied on to carry the small talk, but right now, he was doing anything but, his head remaining down and his eyes drawn to his plate. Thankfully, Y/N’s mother is the one to save the day, “right! So Y/N, are you working tomorrow?”

She sighs in relief, still looking to Harry as she answers, hoping he could catch his eye and find out what was wrong. “Uh.. yeah, I am, working till around eleven.” Y/N doesn’t hear her mothers answer; she just knows it’s something about how she shouldn’t be working so late because it wouldn’t be good for her skin. 

No, Y/N was too busy looking at the boy in front of her, wondering why exactly what she’d said had upset him so much. 

---- 

Y/N was grateful. She was grateful for the bout of rain they had received after the week of hot weather. She was grateful that she had just enough milk for her morning tea. Y/N was grateful for her nice boss and her friends. But most of all, Y/N was grateful that she got to go home early from work. 

It was only around six-thirty at night, her shift starting at four. When she had gotten in and checked the bookings, well, there wasn’t really any. The place was empty apart from a few customers, the tables were free from their usual dirty dishes, yet to be picked up by one of the under the pump workers. The bar was spotless, the buckets for the lemons full and the drink fridge stocked and waiting to be emptied. 

Niall had asked her to sweep the floor, and after finishing that, she sat around for an hour and a half, jumping to serve each customer that walked through the door. Eventually, Niall told her to go home, put up her feet, enjoy the free night and a glass of wine. And Y/N was ready to do just that. She had just bought a new bottle of red, and she couldn’t wait to just relax and take a night to herself. 

But of course, Y/N couldn’t catch a break. Couldn’t possibly come home and just relax because when she enters the door, there Harry is, sitting on the couch, his feet thrown up and his head drawn back, stroking his own cock.

Immediately Y/N sees the laptop resting in front of him, the picture on the screen reflecting exactly what Y/N could see. His balls full and rounded, his cock the prettiest she’d ever seen, and his face flashing from pleasure to absolute horror. 

He slams the laptop shut and jumps up, tucking himself back into the front of his sweatpants, and Y/N can’t help but look at the one thing that had kept her attention since she walked through the door, his cock stiff in his pants, the outline clear, leading to a small patch of precum, staining the grey material. “Y/N! What the fuck!”

It’s then she realises she hadn’t said a word, just stared dumbly at him, “Harry! I’m so sorry, oh my god.” She brings her hands up over her mouth, feeling it open underneath her fingers. 

He stands there still, his left hand shaking and his right, running through his already dishevelled hair, “no, no. I… this is my fault. I um… I thought you’d be out at work till late.” 

She nods in agreement, her eyes darting around the room, desperately trying to look anywhere that wasn’t below his hips. “Uh yeah, I was. Finished early, though.” The silence is too loud. It hurts her head, presses on her eardrums and creates an uncomfortable pressure. “Look, Y/N, I can explain.” She shakes her head. She didn’t need an explanation; what Harry got around to in his spare time was none of her concern, even if it was filming himself… doing that.  

“It’s alright, Harry. It’s none of my business.” Y/N didn’t think his face could portray any more panic than it already did, but just like that, it increases. “Please. Please let me explain.”

Harry watches as she solemnly nods, walking towards the couch, stepping around him like he carried the plague. “You have to promise not to judge me.” The eyes Harry had always loved softened, and she shakes her head, her mouth straight and her eyebrows raised, “I would never judge you.”  

He sits down on the couch next to her, the distance between them unfamiliar and harrowing. How was he supposed to tell her this? What would he do if she was disgusted by him? She’d seen too much now, and Harry was over the secrets, the running around behind her back, the mysterious men and women leaving after a few weeks, and most of all, the constant need to find a private place where Y/N wouldn’t hear him. He had gotten lazy the last few weeks, finding it particularly difficult when Y/N wasn’t working her usual hours, her shifts changing, and Harry was trying to adjust his schedule around her not being around. 

He was just over lying to his best friend. 

Y/N's heart squeezes as she watches him shut his eyes tightly, his head drawn down as he speaks, "A few years ago, during university, I needed some extra money, and one of my friends introduced me to this thing. It was like recording yourself, um, recording yourself masturbating." He said the word slowly like he was tasting each letter on his tongue before spewing it out. He looks to Y/N, who is slowly nodding, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth slightly agape.  

"He showed me the ropes, and at first, I didn't like it all that much, but then it kind of blew up. I got… I get heaps of watchers each week, and the money was really good, so I just never really stopped." He waits for her to speak, waits for her to say anything. She sits in silence, taking it all in, and just as Harry is about to plead for her forgiveness, for her to speak, for her anything, she replies, the answer coming out hoarse and quiet. 

"Okay. I'm not going to say it's not okay or it is okay because, well, it's your life, Haz."

It's almost like Y/N can see the stress leave his body, slumping as if it was the only thing keeping him upright. "I… thank you." he leans over to Y/N and embraces her, the hug bone-crushing and filled with relief. 

"Can I ask though," Y/N feels him tense, "how do you do it? Wait, I don't mean how, I mean like what sites even do that? How did I not know?" he chuckles, the sound a relief to Y/N after seeing him so tense while discussing the clearly uncomfortable topic. 

"I use a site called 'Chaturbate.' I dunno how you didn't find out. I don't like to tell people, though. Usually, the second I do, they leave; that's why'm always seein' someone new." 

Suddenly he hears and feels her gasp. "Oh my god, I think I heard you the other night! The day I got the new job." He turns sheepish, tucking his head further into her neck, "yeh, I'm so sorry I couldn't celebrate with you, I have the shows at the same time every week, and I lose followers if I miss it. Guess that's why you thought I had someone in my room with me then, huh?" 

She sighs, laughing slightly, "yeh think I heard you the day before I lost the bakery job too. Weird to think I had no idea what you were actually doing." He cocks his head, "hm, when was that? Few Fridays ago?" He waits for her to nod in confirmation before continuing, "I only ever do Monday nights, so not sure what you heard there, pet." As they both look at each other, Y/N can feel a mirrored blush forming on both of their faces as they realise what that meant.

"Oh." 

Harry starts laughing first, the uncontrollable giggles erupting from between his pretty lips and Y/N soon joins in. The joking tone is continued when Harry speaks again, "gonna have to schedule another show now because of you." This makes Y/N laugh harder, "please tell me when, so I can get the fuck out of the house." Harry jokingly swats at Y/N's arm, his shoulders shrugging from his laughter. 

"Hey, a free show is a free show, babes." 

----

Y/N shouldn't be so distracted. She shouldn't have dropped a whole tray of drinks on a customer or forgotten her apron at home. She definitely shouldn't have forgotten to say happy birthday to Niall (he'd only been talking about it non-stop for the past three weeks, reminding her with his usual smile, "better be plannin' something, big sweetheart!" For the record, she and all the staff at 'The Harp' had planned a surprise party the weekend after.) and she shouldn't have been so distracted while shaving in the shower that she got a massive cut under her knee cap, which bled and stained her pink silk pyjamas without her realising. 

Alas, she was. 

No matter how many movies she watched, songs she listened or meditations she tried, she could not stop thinking about how Harry looked sitting on the couch, with his pants down to his knees. The way he looked with his head thrown back in pleasure, sweat dripping from his hairline and veins protruding from his neck kept popping into her head at the most inappropriate times. In the grocery store line, in the shower, on the train, even at work. It seemed she couldn't escape the way his huge hands looked small around his own cock. The way he was stroking himself always managed to send a shiver straight through her spine and a pinprick of pleasure to drip between her hips. 

Y/N couldn't help but imagine what his shows looked like. If the tiny preview she'd been given was enough to send her into this much of a frenzy, she couldn't imagine what the show would do to her. Couldn't picture what would happen if she could experience Harry pleasuring himself from start to finish, from the obvious bulge in his sweatpants all the way to his cum dripping onto the muscle of his thighs. She wanted to know. She wanted to know so badly.  

Should she subscribe to his channel? Would that be wrong? 

Y/N was at a loss. Maybe if she just looked at his profile, her curiosity would be satisfied, and she would be able to move on. 

With shaking hands, she types in the website Harry had told her about and waits for it to load, a window popping up once it has. First, it asks her to confirm her age and then set up a profile. She decides on the first recommended one, 'kinkybutwholesome' for her username. It was accurate and it meant she'd be unidentifiable but still fit in with what she presumed would be an overtly sexual crowd. 

The site then begins asking about her preferences. A whole list of different options pops up, genders, sexualities, options for solo or group, kink or vanilla, interactive or not, and well, Y/N is spoilt for choice. She goes through slowly picking her preferences until finally, the main menu pops up. The website is filled with men and women's profiles, each one coming with a thumbnail, some lewd and some of just regular people. 

She clicks on the first profile she sees, a beautiful brunette girl simply labelled as 'B', with big blue eyes and freckles across her pale skin. On her profile is some information; her age, height and sexuality, as well as a small bio that's clearly customisable, 

"come have fun with me ;)." 

Y/N scrolls down, seeing a small video at the bottom of her page and clicks it without thinking. The subsequent sound has Y/N jumping, turning the volume down in a hurry as loud raspy moans leave her phone speakers. She pauses it for a second, waiting to hear any movement from the room next door, but nothing comes. She felt thirteen again, sneakily watching porn in her bedroom with the volume down to the lowest setting, listening in case her mum was to walk in. 

Once she's confident Harry hadn't heard her, she plays the video again, this time with the volume at an acceptable level. 'B' is sitting in a desk chair, her face out of frame, but her top pulled up to show her heavy breasts. She has no pants on, her knees pulled up to her chest and spread, so Y/N has a full view of her pussy, wet and glistening in the light of her computer screen. Y/N swallows, a drop of arousal dripping like honey from between her legs. 

She exits the screen and begins to search for Harry instead, narrowing the search to men aged 25-30. She scrolls for a few minutes, each naked man leaving her state more and more frazzled until a particular tattoo catches her attention. It's Harry's butterfly, the preview of his profile not showing his face or his prick, instead just his toned chest and stomach, the ink along them standing out from his creamy skin. 

His profile is simply under the name 'H,' the information stating he was a twenty-seven-year-old British male, and his bio reading,

 "Thank you for looking at my profile and potentially subscribing. Can't wait to chat soon! :)” 

It was so Harry. So much so that Y/N almost laughed. Even in the devil's den, he was still the same smiley dimpled boy she'd always loved, but from the preview of the video, she can see, his charming and innocent persona could switch, just like that. She doesn't hesitate to start it. 

It's clear as soon as the video starts that he's close to cumming, his hand moving fast along his shaft, and his balls are jumping at the movement. She can see his butterfly adorned tummy fluttering, each moan causing an inhale to spark the movement again, and Y/N finds herself breathing in time with him. Can almost feel the suspension, feels the edge Harrys about to jump off, and just has his stomach tenses behind his hand, and his hips lift off the seat below him, the video cuts off.

Y/N can just see the first spurt of cum erupting from his tip. She feels the disappointment, the desperation to see more, and it's in that moment that she completely understands why he had so many watchers. It seems that Harry was a tease, just like in real life. 

Without a second thought, she subscribes, entering her credit card details to cover the monthly subscription fee, which was only around five dollars, and an extended version of his profile comes up. It has an album of pictures, each of Harry in different states, sometimes completely naked, and others with his top pulled up just revealing his stomach; however, none of them show his face. 

She scrolls through each one, feeling slightly uncomfortable. It wasn't like this was his personal photo album, it was on the internet for anyone to see, but it didn't make her feel any better that the sight of his pretty cock sitting erect against his thigh made her so squirmy in the stomach she almost couldn't stand it.

At the bottom of the page, she finds what she's looking for; there's a table explaining his regular shows. Just like Harry had said, it was scheduled for every Monday, but a little alert at the bottom had a small exclamation mark in a triangle, next to it a warning message, "show rescheduled to this Friday," and next to that a small button, "alert me when the show begins!" Y/N clicks it, entering her phone number to receive a text notification. 

Y/N didn't know if what she was doing was wrong or right; all she knew was that she couldn't wait for Friday. 

---- 

The day had been tedious, oddly busy for a Tuesday, with Y/N picking up empty glasses, serving intoxicated customers, pouring drinks and then repeating it again. The most exciting thing that had happened was someone had vomited right in front of the toilets, which, if Y/N was honest, was less exciting and more annoying. Smelling like vomit and disinfectant was probably not the best way to see the best friend who she may or may not have a crush on walk into the building. 

She hurries to put the cleaning supplies back behind the bar, keen to talk to the boy who had been on her mind, but not before she's interrupted by Emma, her work friend. She's whispering to get her attention, looking between her crouching on the floor to reach the cupboard and the front door. "Y/N! Come look at this guy; he's so fucking hot." 

It wasn't uncommon for the girls to discuss attractive customers. It was one of the many ways to make a slow shift go faster, so Y/N jumps up and looks to where Emma is subtly motioning with her head. She looks over and sees her best friend looking around the bar with a confused look on his face, clearly trying to find her. Y/N can admit he looks handsome; who is she kidding? He always looked handsome, with his hair a messy bunch of curls, his eyes sharp and bright, the hook of his nose somehow fitting his model-like face perfectly, and his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He looked like a wet dream. 

When he finally sees the girl he's been looking for standing behind the bar and ogling him shamelessly, his face lights up, immediately trying to push through the small groups forming to get to her. Emma barely has time to hiss a quiet, "you know him? Introduce us!" before he's standing in front of them, a huge smile gracing his features. 

"Surprise!" While Y/N had felt a prick of annoyance sparking in the pit of her tummy at what Emma had said, the sight of Harry's familiar dimples and even more familiar croon works to settle it. She had never understood how his mere presence could calm her from even the most awful of moods, but it always did. 

"Hey Haz! I thought you were going out for beers with your workmates?" He smiles and nods, "I was, but Jeff felt sick, so I dropped him home early. He lives just 'round the corner, so thought I'd come say hi to my favourite girl." 

The subtle prodding from Emma's persistent elbow stopped at that as she looked over to Y/N, "oh, Y/N never told me she had a boyfriend." The tone is playfully biting as if it was obvious Y/N should tell every detail in her life to the girl she worked with once a week. She had nothing against her but found Emma could be too blunt and pushy, something she had gotten used to but definitely wasn't a feature she would like to adopt in a best friend. 

Y/N expects Harry to correct her and waits for them to start flirting with each other; instead, she looks up to see a twinkle in his eye, "oh, hasn't she? I'm Harry." Y/N's mouth drops, and she looks between him and Emma, the former giving her his trademark smirk and the latter giving her a quizzical look as if she was genuinely offended that she hadn't been made aware of Y/N's relationship status.

The emotion passes quickly as Emma looks back to Harry, "well, Y/N sure is a lucky girl then." It's Y/N's turn to look confused. Granted, she wasn't actually dating Harry, but Emma believed she was, yet was blatantly flirting with him in front of her. Harry looks amused, looking back over to Y/N, "honestly, I think I'm the lucky one." 

Emma smiles, looking over at Y/N with a tender smile and squeezes her hand, "I'll let you serve him." She walks over to another customer standing at the bar, greeting them and taking their order. Y/N turns back to Harry and raises her eyebrows, "boyfriend, huh?" He grins boyishly and giggles, "man can dream, can't he?" She rolls her eyes to hide the subtle flush arising on her cheeks, and Harry pretends he can't see it. "What do you want to drink, loser?" 

Once again, Harry pretends he doesn't know exactly what she's doing, avoiding the topic because it makes her uncomfortable, "hm, whatever beer is the nicest!" Y/N hums in agreement, grabbing a glass from the rack sitting beside her and pours Harry the beer that usually got the most compliments. She places it in front of him, the frost causing condensation to slip down the glass, wetting Y/N's hand as she picks it up. 

When Harry takes a sip, the foam stains his top lip, and Y/N almost doesn't hear him, too distracted by it, wanting to either wipe it with the tip of her thumb or lick at it with her tongue and taste the bitterness on his lips.  

"It's good, darlin'." She averts her attention from his mouth to his eyes again, and Harry raises his eyebrows at her. Rolling her eyes, she scoffs, "save it, was looking at your beer moustache." He instantly wipes at his lip, his face reddening in embarrassment and Y/N laughs, picking up a napkin. She expects him to grab it, but he leans forward, presenting his face for her to wipe at it. 

She swallows and leans forward too, dabbing at the white residue left from his drink, and she can feel his eyes on her as she keeps her vision directed at the task at hand. 

She hears a cough from next to them and looks over, an impatient and clearly intoxicated patron looking at her expectantly. She briefly catches Harry's eye, "have to work." She whispers, the moment feeling too tender for her usual volume. He nods, leaning back into his chair, watching as she walks over to the man still looking at her impatiently. 

"Do we all get that sorta treatment or what?" Y/N instantly scrunches her brows, her lips curling up in disgust unconsciously. She goes to laugh it off, the anger still simmering inside of her, but the man must see the look on her face before she can conceal it, "c'mon sweetheart, don't be such a prude." She opens her mouth to say something, but she's beat by Harry, who instantly stands up, towering over the drunk man. "What did you just fuckin' say?" 

The man in front of them instantly shrinks slightly at Harry's stature, her beautiful soft best friend replaced by the angry one standing in front of her. His eyes are hard and glassy rather than gentle and loving, his hands clenched rather than relaxed and giving, and his mouth, usually wrapped in the most beautiful smile, is set in a hard line, his top lip lifted into a snarl.

"Harry, stop."

He looks back at her, his eyes softening as soon as he does, and if Y/N wasn't so frustrated, she would've stopped to awe at how confused he looked. But she needed this job, she wanted to fight her own battles, and she didn't need a white knight to do it for her. She appreciated the sentiment but knew that Harry would cause a scene in protecting her, and the last thing she wanted was to do that at her own workplace. 

She turns back to the man, no emotion on her face, "what can I get for you?" She watches Harry's shoulders slump in her peripheral vision and wants nothing more than to slap the smug grin that takes over the man's face. 

As soon as the man has received his drink and gone, she turns back to her best friend, whose face still reflects one of sadness and confusion, "what the fuck was that Y/N? He was so disrespectful." 

She sighs and closes her eyes, opening them after a few seconds, hoping if maybe she closed them long enough, the issue would no longer be there. Alas, Harry stands still, one hand in the air and the other on his hips.

"Yeh, I know." 

He scoffs, "then why didn't you let me stand up for you?" She drops the rag she had been using to wipe the bench down and turns back to Harry, frustration now filling her veins. She was angry an asshole had interrupted her time with Harry. She was angry he had been so rude. She was angry he only backed down when a man stood up for her, and she was angry she even had to explain that to Harry. She takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly, letting go of all the tension held in her shoulders. 

"I appreciate it, Harry, I do. But this is my workplace; I can't be making scenes like that here. Of course, I wanted to tell him to fuck himself, but I need this job. I love you, and I know why you stood up for me, but you need to understand how frustrating it is for me that you even have to do that. I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at a situation that never should have arisen in the first place, do you understand?" 

She watches as Harry's shoulders slump and his hand lowers as each word is spoken, and she knows instantly that he feels terrible. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Y/N," He brings his hand up, rubbing at the back of his neck, "I know what you're sayin', I do. I just got so angry when I heard him. You don't deserve to be treated like that. But you're right, I understand, and I'm sorry I didn't see it that way straight away." 

If she's honest, she feels like kissing him. Unlike her, he was so quick to empathise with others, never let his pride get in the way. She always admired that about him, his ability to pick up his ego and put it behind him to learn and grow. 

Harry sits at the bar for the rest of her shift, occasionally sipping his now warm beer and chats with Y/N when she has a free moment. And at the end of her shift, he helps her take in the outside furniture, stack the chairs and sweep the floors, with Y/N continuously assuring him, "you do not need to help!" and Harry shrugging her off with, "'know I don't need to lovey, but I want to." 

At the end of it all, Harry hugs her, smells her beer-soaked shirt and her hands smelling of disinfectant, and tells her he loves her. She holds him even tighter and spends the whole car ride home holding his hand, because god, she really did love him too. 

----

The day the notification came, Y/N was on her way home from work. She wasn't actually supposed to be working. They each had every second Friday off, and it just happened to be Y/N's, but Niall had called her in a flurry, asking her to come help. Of course, she had. She'd never heard Niall's voice waver over anything but cheerful and kind, so she ran down to the bar, having to leave dinner with Harry. 

He had smiled, kissed her on the cheek and said, "you're too kind, button. I'll see you when you get home." Y/N had flushed, leaning into the gentle peck before gathering her things for work, her apron, a bottle of water and phone. When she'd finally entered the little bar that had become so homely to her over the past few weeks, she was met with a tsunami of noise, people and dirty dishes overflowing from every table. She got to work straight away, dumping glasses in the bar where Niall was scurrying around trying to make drinks. 

Finally, after an hour or two, things cleared out. The bar adopted the same gentle lull of voices it always had, most of the tables clear from beer stains and empty cups, and Niall once again returned to his normal state of peace. "I'm so sorry I had to call you in, lovey! Go enjoy the rest of your Friday." She'd simply smiled. After how well Niall treated her and how much she loved working there, she wasn't in a position to complain. So she catches the train, no more distressed than she was on her way into work. 

She sits peacefully, riding through the city, watching the people around her- a man in a suit, reading a newspaper. A gaggle of young girls, giggling among themselves, each laugh high pitched and innocent. A woman with a flask in her hand, sorrow present in her hollow eyes. A mother and her child, the woman, kissing upon the boy's soft-looking hair. She wonders about all of their stories, if they've ever been in love or experienced kissing someone for the first time. She's drawn out of her thoughts when she receives the notification. 

"'H' is going live! You don't want to miss this one ;)" and Y/N's breath hitches. It's then she feels thankful the people surrounding her don't know her own story, can't read her mind or see the filthy things flashing through it. 

She'd mostly forgotten about the show, it only popping up in her mind at random times before being buried underneath her other thoughts, and she guessed work had served as the perfect distraction. She feels her fingertips tingle, the idea of Harry getting himself off and filming it for her to watch too much to handle. 

She spends the last five minutes of the train ride subconsciously squeezing her thighs together, thinking about the boy in her apartment, right until she reaches the entry for it. 

She makes the quick minute walk to their apartment and unlocks the door, slipping through the familiar wood that somehow now felt foreign. Like behind it was a myriad of opportunities that she hadn't experienced before. Behind this door, she knew Harry sat, probably naked. And behind this door sat the chance for her to watch him for the first time.

She thanks her lucky stars he isn't in the living room this time; it seemed he had learnt his lesson from the last time she had entered the threshold of their shared home while a show was taking place. Instead, she imagines him to be in his room, in the desk chair he usually studies in. 

She shuts and locks the door quietly, leaning against it briefly while she catches her breath, nerves seeping through each pore in her skin, causing her stomach to turn. She takes a deep breath, walking through the apartment to her room, the space dark but familiar. 

Was she really going to do this? 

She sits on her bed, contemplating her options. She could unsubscribe, ignore the message and pretend she'd never visited the site in the first place. Or she could watch the show, even just for a minute, to see what it was like. Did she want to betray Harry's trust like this? Would he even mind? 

She has a feeling he probably wouldn't; it wasn't like she was snooping through his personal images. But it was her best friend, someone who a year ago she never would've imagined even being able to see in such a vulnerable position. 

She looks down at the notification on her phone, the link teasing her, and she feels her thumb itch to click it. In a rare moment of bravery, she does, shutting her eyes tightly as the page loads. When she hears Harry's familiar gravelly croon, she opens them again.

He was sitting in his underwear, a small wet patch clear, a trail of dark but sparse hair leading down to below the waistband. He plays with his cock, lightly rubbing and scratching at the clearly hard length resting beneath the material, and she watches as he takes extra time to trail a single-digit up it circling the head, shivering as he does so. 

There's a barrage of comments scrolling from the bottom of the screen, older ones disappearing as new ones replace them, but one catches her eye. From a user called 'babygirl123,' that says, "so wet H, please take them off." She hears Harry chuckle, "hm, you sound so desperate tonight. Just a little slut lookin' to get off, aren't you?" Y/N feels her insides clench, a shiver wracking through her spine. He spoke so personally, like he was really in the room, talking to each individual viewer. She knows it's a part of a script, and she knows he has no idea she's the one watching, but it feels as if he was speaking through the screen for only her ears to hear. 

For the second time that week, Y/N understands why he had so many viewers. 

Y/N quickly takes off her underwear and watches as he stands up, the laurels on his hips stretched against the bones, and tucks his thumbs in the waistband. He pulls down slightly, enough to just see the base of his prick, the skin smooth and then just as quickly as he had pulled it down, Harry pulls the waistband right back up. "Do y' really deserve it?" He chuckles, the sound deep and harrowing, and Y/N feels the physical reaction her body has to it. A clench in the tummy accompanied by a sinking feeling, a deep intense sense of disappointment, as she unintentionally whispers "please," out loud.

And Y/N's not alone. She watches as hundreds of comments stream through, all proclamations of frustration and desperation. Harry only laughs again, "hm, pet, since you asked so nicely." She has to remind herself once again, he wasn't speaking to her; there was no way he could've heard her whispered plea, but the gush of arousal she feels flooding her underpants tells her that her body thought differently.  

Finally, Harry pulls down his underwear completely, exposing his hard and smooth prick. 

The sight of Harry's cock fully hard is enough to make her choke. Her throat feels like it's closing up, making every attempt to swallow ten times harder. Y/N had never felt such a guttural reaction to someone else, never felt this same intense need literally travelling through her bones. It's like her hips have a mind of their own, thrashing and lifting from the bed beneath her, trying to find something that would relieve the ball of arousal knotting in her stomach. 

He's so pretty, so mouthwateringly perfect that she feels saliva begin to pool in her mouth. She wants to lick, suck, nip at him, feel his cock throbbing down her throat as he pushes her down further. She wants so badly to taste his cum on her tongue, to lap at his tip for every drop. She palms her chest and pinches at her nipples, the sting not doing anything to quell the intense pull from between her legs and with a deep breath, she finally touches herself.

She almost can't believe how wet she was; without any touch, she was dripping, could feel the way she was sliding down lips onto the sheets below her, and it makes her bite her lip in an attempt to hold the groan she's feeling back. With her slick coating her first two fingers, she becomes acutely aware that if Harry were actually in the room with her, he could slide into her with absolutely no resistance. She prods at her entrance almost to seek proof and the way she glides into her hole easily only furthers her point. 

She looks back at the computer screen, Harry's moans and tidbits of filth filtering into her brain, each one low and hoarse. She watches as he teases himself again, only lightly turning and pulling with his forefinger and thumb around his head, the tip red and leaking. Y/N replicates his actions, rubbing her fingers lightly around her own clit, teasing herself. The movement spreads tingles through her, an ache in her inner thighs forming as she feels herself clenching around the empty space her fingers were occupying.

Y/N's hoarse whine is interrupted by the smooth voice of Harry himself, "y' touching yourself thinkin' about me? Hm?" The abrupt speed at which she nods her head almost hurts her neck. She pushes back against the pillow behind her, arching her back, and she can't stand the teasing anymore, so she slides her fingers back into her wet hole. She looks back at the screen to watch Harry begin to pleasure himself unabashedly, his right hand stroking his cock with strong movements, the nails of his left hand digging into his meaty thigh. Y/N follows suit, beginning to finger herself with fever, each stroke rubbing the sensitive spot on her front wall, causing her legs to shake at the intensity of it. 

Each moan that drips from Harry's mouth encourages her own movements, the sensual sound sending an intense bout of pleasure to bloom between her thighs each time she hears it. 

The harshness in Harry's tone causes her to stop immediately, "stop touching yourself. Take your hands off completely. Want you to just watch me for a bit." Y/N had never considered herself bratty, but she knows that if Harry was actually in the room with her, she would be complaining and whining like no tomorrow. Which reminds her, he wasn't in the room, was he? What was he going to do, punish her through the screen? She slips her hands back down her body, teasingly sliding two fingers against her clit before slipping back into her dripping hole. 

But fuck, it's like Harry has a camera showing him exactly what she's doing because his voice comes back once more, this time stronger and more forceful. "I said stop fuckin' touchin yourself. I'm not fuckin' around." This time Y/N does let out an actual whine. A sob fills her throat, her desperation for any type of friction almost unbearable. She chooses instead to put her hands under her bum, like a child not allowed to touch candy, she resists the temptation and instead focuses on the screen in front of her. On it, Harry continues to stroke himself each time he reaches his tip, tugging and turning slightly for more pleasure. She sees his head is shiny, precum bubbling from it, looking so lickable she could cry. 

She watches as he brings his other hand down to his balls, fondling them in his palms, slightly tugging at each upstroke. Y/N wishes she could see his face. Can only imagine how it would look screwed up in pleasure, but she settles for his neck, clearly strained as if his head is thrown backwards. The skin stretched over his collarbones is wet with sweat, and Y/N almost can't believe how dirty her own thoughts are getting when her primal reaction is to lick it.

"Fuck." The word is whispered, and if Y/N wasn't listening intently, she might have missed it. She couldn't. The word she's heard leave her best friend's mouth a million times feels different now. Tainted and raw because it wasn't being said in frustration but in pleasure. "God, just thinkin' about you is gonna make me cum. Touch yourself again. Cum with me." She doesn't need to be told twice, racing to get the fingers of her right hand back inside of herself, moving with vigour while her thumb rubs at her swollen bud. 

Harry's jerking himself off just as hard, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against his skin, music to Y/N's ears. As each second passes, Harry's moans increase and Y/N can tell he's close to finishing. 

If she listens carefully enough, she can hear the faint sounds of his whines through the walls, the thought enough to cause her to clench around her own fingers, her cum soaking her to her knuckles. 

She feels her orgasm build within her, starting right between her hips before spreading through her whole body. Each stroke of her fingertips coinciding with a jerk of her body, her legs turning stiff and shaking with the effort of her pleasure shooting through her nerves. It feels so good, like she had been lifted off the bed below her, her limbs weightless and her body floating. She was so loose, so happy, so complete, and it was all thanks to Harry.

She looks back at the screen just in time to see his cum shooting from his tip, dribbling onto the rest of his length and onto his right thigh. He slows his movements, squeezing the head of his cock gently in his hand, the last few drops spilling onto his fingers. His moans slowly become quieter, turning into soft little whimpers. 

She lets out a big sigh, watching as he drags his pointer finger through the cum splattered against his leg. Y/N couldn't believe her eyes when she saw him bring it up towards his mouth, and although the camera cuts off below his chin, the sound of licking and sucking tells her exactly what he's doing.

And fuck, she almost cums again. 

The comments and tips on the bottom of the screen are scrolling at an unfathomable pace, little dollar signs popping up every few seconds. Y/N almost couldn't believe the amount people were donating, anything from $5 to $150, the comments sounding as desperate as she does in her head. 

It brings her back to reality. She was not FaceTiming Harry, following his every move, pleasuring themselves and each other. Harry couldn't hear her; it wasn't her moans and her own cum slipping between her fingers that made him finish. Y/N didn't know what he'd do after he finished the live stream. She wouldn't be there to watch him clean the cum off his softening prick or help him do it herself. 

They were as far apart as they had been before the live stream.

Watching him get himself off didn't change that. 

Hundreds of other people just watched the exact same show. 

Y/N needed to pull herself together.  

----

When she gets home from shopping the next night to Harry setting out bowls of chips and putting beers in the fridge, Y/N is understandably confused. It was the first time she'd seen him since the night before, and even the way his arms unintentionally flexed while reaching to put the drinks on the top of the shelf was enough to make her blush.  

"What's all this, Haz?" He turns around, meeting her with a huge grin, his already flushed cheeks a clear indicator that he had consumed some alcohol already. "Lovey! So glad you're home. I invited some mates over for drinks, thought you could do the same if you wanted?" As usual, Y/N found it relatively hard to say no to Harry, and she knows if he wasn't already slightly tipsy, he probably would've been able to tell from the look on her face that she would have prefered to go to bed early after having a bath and a cuddle. Alas, he is not sober and instead opts to stare at her until she responds, the stupid, lazy grin still plastered on his face scrunching up his glassy eyes. 

"Uh yeah, sounds good." How could she oppose? He'd already bloody invited them, and well, maybe it would be good for Y/N to partake in the drinks she was so often serving other people instead. So she calls Niall who's night off this week is Saturday too, who she believes is slightly too excited at the prospect of drinks at her place, but she guesses that's just who he is, a golden retriever in human form. At least he'd make it bearable. 

----

Turns out when Harry said he had invited a few mates, he meant well over 50 people, and Y/N could hardly believe it. The apartment was dark and reeked of cigarette smoke and bud, someone was passed out on the couch, two people were making out in the hallway, and in the centre of it Harry, dancing in the living room, his face still adorned with that same familiar grin.  

If Y/N wasn't as drunk as she was, she probably would've been angry. This was a lot of people, and she didn't do well in crowds, particularly when she only knew a small percentage of them. Fortunately for her, Niall had made the whole process a lot easier. He had a way about him that was so breezy and easygoing it was hard for her to feel anything but that. He had danced with her, poured drinks for her, assured her they could get the smell of smoke out of the couches and sung along to every song that played over the speaker, knowing so many lyrics it was almost impressive.

And just as she'd predicted, Harry and Niall got along like a house on fire. Their energies matched perfectly, Niall's enthusiastic and overly optimistic, Harry's equalling his positivity on a quieter, more reserved scale. But of course, once both of them were wasted, they may as well have been yelling the whole time, Nialls loud laugh echoing through the four walls of their living room every few seconds, their humour witty and compatible. It felt as if Y/N was bringing her partner to meet her parents for the first time, desperate for their approval of each other, and if she was honest, she wasn't sure who fit which role better. 

On the one hand, she had known Harry for years. He was protective and a calming force, but she really didn't want to think of him as a parental figure, that was for sure. And Niall was just as protective, more of an older brother sort of relationship, but she knew she'd be more than lucky if he was interested in her in that way. 

Niall's hand on her shoulder pulls her out of her thoughts, the touch instantly calming, and as he squeezes slightly, she allows herself to relax. "Y'alright, lovey? Zoned out there." 

She nods, lifting her hand to rest on top of his, squeezing it back. "Yeh, I'm good. Do you want another drink?" He cocks his head, his lips pursing slightly, "are you gonna have one?" She shakes her head in response. She was tipsy, enough to feel somewhat inebriated, but not enough to feel out of control. Niall mimics her action, shaking his head also, his nose and lips scrunching slightly, "then nah, I'm good." 

She finds her smile growing, always being slightly surprised at how courteous he was, "you can if you want! I'm fine." She squeezes his hand again, bringing it down to her mouth to place a sloppy kiss on the top of it to show her appreciation. The giggle emitting from his mouth rings through her ear in gentle waves. He pulls his hands away, jokingly wiping the spit off on the bottom of his shirt, "I'm good. Probably drunk enough as it is." He grabs the hand that had been dropped, pulling her up from her sitting position on the couch, "but you can come outside with me, always dying for a smoke when I'm fucked." 

Y/N allows him to pull her towards the balcony, weaving through individuals swaying to the music and from the alcohol, one of them being Harry. She hears him before she sees him, his melodic voice travelling across space between them into her ears, "where are you off to puppy?" She looks up, his familiar brown mop messy and slicked with sweat, his eyes just as bright as they always were. She gestures to Niall with their joint hands, "Nialls wants a smoke, want to come?" He shakes his head, grabbing her around the shoulders and kissing her temple. 

She drops Niall's hand and embraces him back, tucking her head into his neck and closes her eyes. Harry rests his head on hers and addresses Niall, "takin' care of her yeh?" The Irish boy nods in response, biting his lip, "yeh, always." 

Harry nods in response, kissing the top of Y/N's head again with his plump lips, leaning down into her ear and whispering, "I'll see you later, Y/N, stay safe," and then letting her go. 

Maybe if Y/N wasn't drunk, she might have been able to read into the connotation of his words, perhaps even registered the biting tone of them. Alas, she's not. Only nods and smiles dopily at him, lost in her own thoughts about how handsome he was and how she wished that live stream had happened in real life. She walks back to Niall and follows him outside onto the balcony, the quiet air of the night slightly tainted by the deep bass sounding behind them. 

When Niall shuts the sliding door, it helps to muffle it more, and Y/N briefly enjoys the peace that had been stolen from her for the past few hours. The peace is quickly interrupted, however, by Niall's chuckling. She looks over to him, cocking her head in confusion and watches as he lights the cigarette sitting between his lips, his shoulders still shrugging with the effect of his glee. 

"What?" He only shakes his head, his smile almost uncontrollable now. She repeats herself, "what? What are you laughing at?" Niall meets her eyes, the smoke now travelling past his teeth into the night between them. "Think I'm lucky I left there with my head still attached." 

It doesn't help to clarify anything to Y/N, only confuses her further, and he must see the puzzlement on her pretty features as he continues, "thought he was gonna kill me." 

Her brows crease even further, "who? Harry?" she gestures inside, a laugh now transpiring in her own throat. Niall nods, the dart bobbing with his movements, "yeh, y' didn't see the look he gave me? Especially when he saw we were holdin' hands." Y/N only rolls her eyes, "you're full of shit." 

Niall throws his hands up, his chuckle now progressing to a full cackle, "are you kiddin'? He looked like he was about to kill me. I'm dead serious." She shakes her head, still dubious but continues to play into it for the sake of her own amusement, "yeh he can be a bit protective, tha's all."

She wasn't lying. He had hated all of her previous partners, trying to intimidate them and usually succeeding. While he may as well have been a puppy to her, the tattoos and strong stature gave him an intimidating persona. Niall was insinuating that he was jealous, which just wasn't the truth, as much as she wished it was. 

Niall looks out at the city in front of them and nods, smirking to himself. He briefly looks back at her, mischief clear in his eyes, "mhm, if that's what you want to call it." 

"Niall!" she chides, "I'm serious. He isn't interested in me like that." 

"How would you know? Trust me, lovey, he'd be a fool not to be. Anyone can see the way you look at him." Y/N feels her shoulders deflate slightly, if even Niall, clueless Niall, could see, that meant Harry could too, and that meant he just genuinely wasn't interested. Surely he would have made a move by now if he was. "Is it that obvious?" The boy laughs in response, opening one of his arms for her to stand under, and pulls her to his chest when she does.

"I'm afraid so." She rests her head on his sturdy shoulder, the smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke tickling her nose in the most comforting way possible, and sighs. 

"Been friends for years, Niall. If he hasn't made a move by now, I highly doubt he ever would."

He only holds her closer in response, rubbing up and down her arm, trying to combat the shivers wracking through her body. "I wouldn't be too sure Y/N, I wouldn't be too sure."  

----

Y/N wakes up with a deep throbbing behind her eyes, the feeling intense and painful. The room is dark, and she's instantly thankful that Niall had closed the curtains before he'd left the night before. Her throat is dry, each swallow painful, and the side of her ribs hurt from where she'd accidentally left her bra on, the wire digging painfully into her side. She reaches for the glass of water on her bedside table, checking her phone while taking a few deep gulps, to see the time was 9:30 in the morning. 

She can't remember the last time she had woken up hungover, and she instantly remembers why she vowed not to again. She can't decide if she simultaneously wants to eat everything in the kitchen or if she never wants to eat again. Her tummy was a mix of nauseous while still rumbling as if she hadn't eaten in days. She decides to shower and hope the hot water would soothe the ache that had developed in her head.

She couldn't tell if she was going insane or not, but last night felt like a blur. She wasn't that drunk, but the conversation with Niall had worked to make her feel more intoxicated, drunk on hope she did not want to have regarding the situation with Harry. She knew he wasn't interested, he would've said something by now, but Niall's words had planted a seed that Y/N was desperate to let die. Alas, each thought, each time she remembers their kiss, each pet name, every look and every time the picture of Harry fucking into his hand enters her brain, worked as fertiliser of the highest kind. It was growing without her knowledge, without her consent, and she was terrified of the space it was now occupying. 

And what had happened between them last night had done nothing to help the situation. Y/N was tired, and while the party was still in swing, it had gotten significantly smaller, with only fifteen people sitting around the living room rather than the previous fifty roaming around the whole apartment. Niall was in the toilet while Harry was walking out of his bedroom, running into her as she was about to go into her room. 

"Hey! Haven't seen you for a while poppet, where are you off to?" He grabbed her wrist gently, stopping her from opening the door she was standing in front of, "just goin' to bed, I'm super tired." At that, he pouted some, clearly not wanting her to leave the party just yet, but he didn't say anything about it, just nodded. "'S Niall still here?" His tone wasn't unfriendly per se, but it definitely didn't hold the same fondness it did when addressing her. 

She had nodded, "yeh, he's just in the toilet." She watched him turn his head to the bathroom as if trying to confirm the fact himself, but she tugged his arm to bring his attention back to her. "Did you have fun tonight?" The same smile she had become so enamoured with graced his face once again as he nodded, his eyes just as glassy as they had been earlier in the night, and she realised he was still drunk.

"Yeh, I missed you, though. Where were you?" He brought the hand, not still holding her wrist, up to her face, tucking one of the loose strands behind her ear. She became acutely aware that he hadn't taken his hand away and only used it to gently stroke her jawline. She shivered, letting out a gentle laugh. "I dunno was around. You just didn't see me, I guess."

He breathed out gently through his nose, the small puff of air signifying he was laughing too, "mm, wish I had." Y/N didn't know what to think. She could see him getting closer, his face leaning into hers slightly, and she knew if she tilted her head back, she could easily slot their lips together. She was about to, starting by looking at the plump lips she so often imagined against her own, and flicked her eyes up to his, seeing his line of sight had been set on her mouth too. 

But the sound of the toilet flushing and Niall whistling interrupted them, Harry jumping back and releasing her wrist in the process. Niall froze in the hallway, the tune of 'I'm a Barbie Girl’ by Aqua halting too, all three of them staring at each other. Harry was the first to speak, gesturing vaguely at Y/N, "was just sayin' goodnight." Niall looks amused at this, nodding slowly with his eyebrows raised and eyes flitting between her and Harry, "right." 

The awkward silence continued, and Y/N rolled her eyes, "yeh, well… goodnight," and walked into the bedroom, not waiting for a response from either of the two men in front of her. She heard Niall behind her, also stepping into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. One look in his direction and Y/N knew precisely what he's going to say, "Don't Niall." 

He had only laughed the sound echoing through her small bedroom, "y' don't even know what I was goin' to say!" She gave him a look, one that said she didn't need to hear it to know exactly what he was thinking, but he only laughed harder. 

And now here Y/N was, the hot water running deliciously over her tired body. What was she to think of it all? 

It was so much easier for her to imagine Harry's actions as drunk and aimless, something he wouldn't mean if tequila hadn't been clouding his judgement. 

But she couldn't help but let that small seed that Niall had planted fester. She couldn't stop asking the question of, what if? 

She dries herself off and gets dressed, cringing at what she saw in the mirror, her under eyes pronounced and purple, the effect of the late-night clearly shown through her dull skin. 

Walking into the kitchen felt unfamiliar, the house a mess, beer bottles and cans littered around the room, food squished into the floors, and half the lounge room couch pillows taken off the seat. At least she had a good night because if she hadn't, she would've been furious. In fact, she distinctly remembers Niall stepping on that exact Dorito, now about a meter to her left. 

As she begins to fill up the teapot, she thinks of calling him to say thank you, he was a big help last night, comforting her when she needed it and helping her have fun when she wanted to. She turns around to grab her phone that's sitting on the bench when something out of the corner of her eye scares her. 

She jumps and lets out a short scream when she realises it's a shirtless man. "What the fuck!" 

He looks just as startled to see her, which Y/N really doesn't understand, because it's her fucking apartment, "oh fuck you scared me! I didn't realise Haz lived with someone."

And just like that, Y/N can feel her heartbreak in two. This man, clearly familiar with Harry, so familiar he even used the same nickname as she did, is standing shirtless in their shared kitchen. And well, Y/N doesn't need to be a detective to know what that means. 

She feels her shoulders slumping, her mouth and eyebrows turning downwards, and briefly wills the tears away from her eyes. The man in front of her is gorgeous, his skin a deep colour, the complexion smooth and clear and his eyes a glimmering brown that Y/N's sure would look much prettier than hers in the light. 

He reaches one hand that looks like it's been sculpted by the gods towards her, moving to shake her hand, "I'm Cameron. It's nice to meet you." She takes his hand, barely finding the strength to grip and shake back, "Y/N. Nice to meet you too." 

It's then that Harry himself walks into the kitchen, seeing them standing across from each other. "Oh, pet, I didn't know you'd be awake yet." However, as he keeps looking at her, he sees the tears welling in her eyes, her slumped shoulders and frown lines creasing her forehead, and he runs towards her, "Hey hey hey, what's wrong? What're you cryin' for?" 

And she doesn't know why she's so upset. She had absolutely no right to be. But maybe the way Niall was talking last night and the way they'd almost kissed goodnight had gotten to her. She had allowed a small sliver of hope to puncture its way into her heart and look where it had gotten her. She looks up at the ceiling, the same water stains in the plaster from when the couple upstairs had accidentally left the sink on, bringing a sense of familiarity to her. She allows the brown colours to ground her and just keeps repeating the same four sentences to herself.

She was a good person.

Harry was her best friend.

He will never be more than that.

He never was more than that. 

"Look at me, Y/N, please." She obliges, looking back down from the ceiling, seeing her handsome best friend standing in front of her, his hands cradling her face and his eyes filled with concern. 

As soon as they make eye contact, it's like Harry can see into her soul. They don't say anything for at least ten seconds, just looking at each other, Harry's eyes focused purely on hers, and in that moment, he realises she doesn't want Cameron there. He turns around, flashing one of his famous smiles at the boy standing behind them, "hey Cam, I'll talk to you later. Is it alright if you just leave for now?" While he looks slightly taken aback, to his defence, he nods immediately, "yeah, of course." Y/N gives him a weak smile, trying not to let the tears run down her face. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know she was in love with Harry. 

He grabs a shirt lying across the back of the couch, sliding it on and grabs his phone and keys from the coffee table sitting in the middle of the living room, "I'll see you later. It was uh… it was nice to meet you Y/N." She nods, her following words quiet, "you too." 

As soon as he's left, Harry's full attention is back on her, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as the first few stray tears begin to fall. "Please, puppy, tell me what's wrong." She tries to speak; she really does, but when she takes a breath, she hiccups, the emotion causing her throat to close up slightly. "Take your time Y/N. It's just me." 

She nods and takes a slow, purposeful breath. She didn't know how she would say what she wanted to, but in reality, she needed to. She needed to get it off her chest, and she needed Harry to hear it. 

She begins, barely whispering, "I'm just so confused." She pulls his hands away from her face, the look on his almost causing her to pull them back up, but she needed to be away from him while she said this. She didn't want his close proximity to impact what she wanted to say. She takes a step back, this time speaking slightly louder. 

"You're always giving me cutesy nicknames and loving on me, treating me like a girlfriend. You always joke around about us being together. For fucks sake, you kissed me, Harry. Did you actually even want to kiss me, or was it just out of pity?" 

"Oh god, lovey, no, no. It was never a pity kiss." He walks towards her once again, trying to bring his hands back up to her face, but she steps back, signalling she didn't want to be touched. He drops his hands, looking upset, but continues to speak nonetheless. "I promise Y/N, I would never kiss you out of pity." 

She sniffles, wiping away the tears with the palms of her hands, "then what was it because I'm... I'm so confused, and I really like you, and sometimes I think you like me too, but then you sleep with other people and let boys stay over at our apartment, and I just can't do it anymore." 

He throws his hands up, his brows slightly furrowing, "well, what about you with Niall? Y'can't get angry with me for seein' other people when you're doin' the same! I didn't even fuck Cameron. He's just a mate and needed a place to crash last night." Y/N feels a rush of emotions, frustration because how dare he assume she was sleeping with Niall when he was one, her boss and two, just a friend. 

She was confused and perhaps a little relieved that he hadn't slept with Cameron. She was embarrassed at the fact she had accused him of doing so, and she was upset. How did they get into this situation, accusing each other of sleeping with other people, harbouring jealousy and anger rather than honesty and respect? Most of all, she was tired. She was over the second-guessing, the unknown. She was sick of pining over her best friend and trying to hide it, trying to figure out if he felt the same way.

"Niall? For fucks sake, I am not sleeping with Niall. We're friends, and that's it-" He interrupts her while rolling his eyes, "right. Does he know that?" 

Now Y/N can hardly cover her frustration, "grow up, Harry." And once again, it's a case of word vomit; she can't help but spill the next words from her mouth, no matter how much she didn't want to say them.

"Why did you kiss me?" 

He looks at her, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn't believe she'd actually just asked the question they were both harbouring in their minds, so bluntly. He motions around before slipping his hand to the nape of his neck, rubbing it gently while Y/N still stands in front of him, awaiting an answer. 

Fuck it, she'd already gotten this far. She may as well find out. She so often backed down as soon as she saw he was uncomfortable, but she was frustrated, and she deserved to know the truth. 

"Why did you kiss me, Harry?" 

His eyes meet hers once again, the familiar sea-green usually so comforting and loving now filled with disbelief and frustration. 

"Why did I kiss you? I think about kissin you all the fucking time. That's all I can fuckin' think about these days." He takes a step towards her again, and this time she doesn't move back. 

"But I didn't think you'd be interested, particularly with all the cam boy stuff, and you were always so independent n' I didn't want you to think I was your friend bc I wanted something from you." He runs his hands through his hair, tugging with frustration.

He felt like this whole time he had been screaming from the inside, desperate to show her how much he loved her, and for her to come to him crying because she was so confused about where he stood, broke his heart and frustrated him to no end. 

"I love you... for you and I just- course I wanted to fuckin' kiss you are y'serious?" 

They both stand in front of each other, only a few inches away, so familiar with the other, but suddenly thrust into this unsettling zone. Y/N had never felt so brave and sure of herself as she did then, with the boy she loved admitting he loved her too. 

"Then kiss me."

He leaps forward, almost falling over in his haste, grabbing her cheeks and pressing her lips against his. It begins innocently, their lips not moving, just enjoying the feeling of being against each other again, but it quickly escalates. It's desperate and messy, their tongues sweeping against one another, their teeth clashing as they open their mouths wider, doing anything they can to taste each other fully. 

Harry tangles one of his hands in Y/N's hair, falling onto the back of her neck, tugging slightly, a mewl tumbling from Y/N's mouth straight into Harry's open and awaiting one. He's gasping against her, like the air had become a luxury he could only just afford, each breath laboured and heavy against Y/N's dewy skin. 

Y/N feels herself pulling him closer, grabbing his shirt, the waistband of his pants, the small fleshy bits attached to his hips, yet she can hardly control it. Like a woman possessed, she is pulling him towards her in any way possible, even to the detriment of her own lungs, who are shuddering, desperate for air. 

She feels his hands travelling down her sides, past her tummy, her hips, slipping around the back of her legs to give her ass one squeeze before travelling further. It's only when he cups her right underneath her bum does she realise what he's doing, and before she can say anything, he's lifting her, pushing her to sit on the kitchen bench that she was just pressed tightly against. 

Their faces are level with the new position, and Harry takes the opportunity to press his mouth desperately against her neck while Y/N takes a much-needed break to breathe and control herself. He's pressing open mouth kisses against her, scraping his teeth every so often, sucking and nipping down to her collarbone before he releases her. She thinks he's going to come back up and meet her mouth once more, which is already open and waiting for him, but instead, he licks a broad strip directly up to her neck, not stopping to kiss or suck. It's filthy, and it's raw, and Y/N lets out a moan at the feeling of it, quickly interrupted by his mouth now pressed back against her own. 

While their faces are level, she doesn't realise their hips are too, not until she feels him push against her lightly. It feels as if he's testing the waters, gently brushing his hard cock against the material of her pyjamas, softly enough that she can just feel it nudging her clit, and she cries out in frustration, the pressure not nearly enough. She grabs the waistband of his sweatpants once more, hissing into his ear as she pulls him closer, "Harry, come on." 

He pulls back suddenly, smirking as he does so, and Y/N can't help but want to slap the stupid grin off his face, knowing he's purposefully pulling away to tease her. She goes to grab him once more, but he picks up both of her hands in one of his large ones, gently pushing her back to sit up straight on the counter, "patience is a virtue." He says, shaking his head as if he was lecturing her. 

She rolls her eyes, "so is making me cum." 

His mouth drops open mockingly, his eyelids lowering in arousal, "you really do have a filthy mouth, don't you pet." Once again, he comes and stands between her legs, all senses of her impertinence becoming lost at his close proximity. Instead, a whine leaves her throat as she nods her head vehemently, her eyes and pouty mouth giving her the appearance of a puppy. 

He places two fingers over her clothed clit, pressing down harder with each word that leaves his mouth, "you're just a dirty slut, desperate to cum, aren't ya?" With the pressure on her lower half, Y/N can hardly form a sentence, only nods again, the inability to speak almost embarrassing. But Harrys seems to be lapping it up, watching her struggle with the smug grin still plastered on his face, each moan that leaves her mouth causing his hips to press forward slightly, almost as if they were looking for her warmth without his knowledge. 

He begins to kiss her again, this time slightly softer, the movement of his lips completely opposing to the feel of his fingers on her underwear. Harry tries to follow her lips as she pulls back, and when she insists, he pouts like a child. She rolled her eyes, having hardly separated from him, still able to feel his lips against hers as she spoke. "Bedroom?" 

If they were perfectly honest, they don't even make it to the bed. Harry’s too desperate to have his mouth back on hers, pushing her back up against the wall of her bedroom, his tongue invading her mouth, languidly pressing against her own. She moans, tugging his soft curls between her fingers, and Y/N's knees almost buckle when Harry himself lets out a hoarse whine, his eyes rolling back as she continues to pull his hair. 

His spit slicked lips brush against her ear as he leans down, "I can't wait to fuck the shit out of you." 

Y/N can feel the heat rush to her face at Harry's words and has no doubt he could tell too, the flush always obvious and gratifying to him, who did everything in his power to make it appear.

Grabbing the back of her neck gently, he pulls her away from the wall, turning her around to sit her on the edge of the bed. Pulling away, he stands up between her legs and reaches behind his back to pull his shirt off, the creamy skin becoming revealed to her inch by inch. And while Y/N had seen her best friend shirtless thousands of times, there was something about the way he was rapidly breathing, his chest expanding with each inhale and his cock at eye level, clearly straining against the underwear he had revealed after pulling off his pants, that made her mouth water and her heart rate increase. 

He smiles, clearly seeing the effect he has on her, her eyes suddenly glazing over and her lips parting slightly. He holds her soft cheeks in his hand, kissing her forehead while sinking down to his knees, the new position lewd and suggestive. He gently pushes her back with one hand around her throat, not squeezing, only guiding her head to rest on the bed behind her, making her thighs clench together. Gentle kisses are placed down her chest, past her stomach, over the soft trail of baby fluff that starts just below her belly button, his plush lips brushing her skin so delicately it tickles until he finally reaches just below her hips. 

Grabbing both of her upper thighs in his hands, he licks a small stripe up from the waistband of her pyjama pants up to her lower stomach, the touch teasing and light. She wiggles around slightly, trying to signal Harry to move lower and give her more, but he continues his teasing, licking and sucking at the skin above the hem of her pants rather than below it.

He tenderly kisses her, almost being able to feel her heartbeat underneath his fingertips as he pulls her pants down, rubbing his hands gently over her newly exposed thighs in an attempt to combat the chills and goosebumps that had erupted from her skin.

Y/N watches Harry's face change from one of arousal to one of awe as he notices the way her underwear stuck to her skin, the wetness highlighted by the light pink colour of the cotton. He could so clearly see the outline of her pussy and the damp spot overtaking a little more than half her crotch area, and as he gently pulls the hem of her underwear upwards, Harry swears he is halfway to heaven. The cloth gets pulled to her tighter, the outline of her soaking lips and swollen clit almost bursting out the sides and at the feeling of the fabric pressing directly at her clit, Y/N groans, grinding down further in an attempt to get more friction, only making the cloth even more strained against her. 

The boy licks his lips, watching his best friend get herself off below him causes his cock to twitch in his pants, protesting the lack of attention it was getting. He brings his tongue down to gently lick at the bud lying underneath the fabric of her panties, slowly increasing the pressure, trying to give her as much stimulation as he could, without actually taking them off. She bucks her hips against him in response, now feeling the combination of the stitching and his mouth pressing against her, quickly bringing her closer and closer to her release. 

"Wanna sit on my face, baby?"

He says the words so casually like he was simply asking about the weather, and Y/N can hardly control the blood that rushes to her cheeks and the increase in her heart rate. 

She's not sure; the idea of riding Harry's face made her thighs quiver with excitement and a rush of moisture to flood between her thighs. Still, she was self-conscious, worried about hurting Harry or, even worse, impacting his ability to breathe. He must catch her grimace because he pulls away from her, squeezing her hips lightly, "hey, you don't have to if you don't want to. We can stop right now n' watch a movie if it works better for you."

She immediately begins shaking her head before she even has time to think about what she wanted. She was so desperate for Harry, in any way, but she wasn't sure if he could take the weight of her on top of him, particularly while sitting on his face. He looks puzzled, his eyebrows and nose scrunching up adorably, "then what is it? Talk to me." 

The uncomfortable topic mixed with the overwhelming need for Harry to just keep touching her makes it hard for Y/N to say precisely what she's thinking. Still, she eventually manages to spit it out, the words leaving her mouth jarred and unnatural, "worried… um worried I'll suffocate you." He scoffs out a laugh as if that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard her say, "no offence Y/N, but I would love nothin' more." He sees her face still filled with uncertainty and continues, "how 'bout this, if I need you to get up, I'll just tap your leg, like this?" He taps her leg gently, showing exactly the action he'd do if need be. 

She's still unsure, but she sees the look on Harry's face and feels the overwhelming pulse erupting from between her hips, showing she's desperate for release and decides to try it. 

She nods apprehensively, and Harry grins, gently grabbing her hands and pulling her up. "Don't just do this for me lovey, I want you to actually want it." She squeezes his hands, love and appreciation filling her heart, "I do want to, promise. I'm just nervous." 

He nods, squeezing her hands back and turns them both around, gently lying on the bed and watching as she slid her underwear down her legs, reaching for her hands to pull her after him. She places her knees on either side of his head, still resting her weight there rather than on him. The look on his face makes her laugh, grin huge making him look like a giddy child, his eyes flashing between her bare pussy and her face. He rests his hands on her hips, rubbing back and forth, coming to rest just below her ass, before pulling her down gently, encouraging her to press herself against his face. 

She lowers herself down gently, jolting right back up at the first feeling of his tongue on her. Instantly, he pulls her back down, whining and desperate for the taste he received that was so quickly taken away from him. Once she settles against him once more, she feels him release a breathy sigh, the air flowing directly onto her clit, as he begins to gently lick and suck at her swollen lips.

Bringing one of his hands to rest against her lower stomach, he uses his thumb to circle her clit, massaging the bud, causing her to jerk closer to his tongue, now prodding at her entrance. The action pushes him inside of her further, his tongue now completely pushed into her wet hole, and he twists it, trying to give her as much pleasure as possible, Y/N crying out at the feeling of him inside of her. The boy underneath her alternates between licking into her and flicking his tongue quickly against her clit. He swaps between that and rubbing with his thumb, occasionally sucking directly at the bud and pulling back, each time causing a deep moan to escape from her throat. 

Y/N's knees begin to weaken and become tired from holding her weight up, and just like always, Harry can sense what she needs before she can. He pushes against her back harder, encouraging her to rest all of her weight onto his face, and she slowly releases the tenseness in her thighs, allowing herself to relax completely, letting out a sigh of relief and pleasure at the feeling of it. Harry's prick twitches at the sound, but Y/N can hardly control it, the pressure so much more intense with her entire mass pushed behind it. 

Without conscious thought, she begins to thrust her hips, the intense pleasure making her desperate to cum, and Harry revels in it, sticks his tongue flat so she can ride him with no trouble. Harry can't quite explain how excited it made him, seeing her using him to get herself off. While he knew she typically tended to be more submissive in her sexual endeavours, the idea of Harry being a toy to use for her own pleasure ignited a spark deep within him. 

He was used to being composed during sex, being the leader, someone who initiated things first, so the uncharacteristic whine that leaves his throat when Y/N pushes off him comes as a surprise to him as well as her. He grapples at Y/N's hips, trying desperately to get her back on top of him, but she only laughs, pulling his hands off her and holding them in her own. "Hold on, Haz, it's okay, just turning around." Instantly he tugs her, now trying to spin her around and get her situated above him once again, and she does so, gently placing her knees on either side of his head, her front now facing his body and legs. 

After Harry pulls her down to sit against his tongue with a solid groan, she uses the new position to her advantage, running her hands over his chest, teasingly flicking his nipples, causing him to startle underneath her. A gentle knead of her hips tells Y/N that Harry wants her to continue, the feeling just surprising to him but definitely not unwelcome. 

Slowly she makes her way down to his hips, tracing the ferns in between her whimpers of pleasure, and the way Harry's cock twitches proves to her that the teasing touches tickle. She does it once more, adoring the way his hips gently buck up beneath her hands. Finally, she pulls Harry's length out from his underwear and wraps her hand around him, the skin smooth and warm beneath her palm, and she feels Harry exhale at the teasing touches turning into pleasurable ones. 

The way Harry's cock looks red and swollen makes Y/N's mouth water, and she's reminded of all the times in the past few years that she had been desperate to kiss him, to taste him fully, the same feeling bubbling through her veins now. A small whimper from underneath her reminds her that she can now; all she needs to do is lean forward and lap at the salty cum leaking from his tip. 

It feels buttery on her tongue, better than anything she'd ever experienced before. She's not sure if it's because of her feelings for Harry or if all the fruit he ate really was paying off, but she would happily taste him every day for the rest of her life. And while swallowing was something she usually did because of how it was perceived, she is desperate to taste Harry fully, to feel his cum slip down her throat.

"C'mon, lovey, put it in your mouth, suck it for me." 

Harry feels Y/N clench around his tongue at his words, the knowledge causing him to glow with pride.

She begins to suckle at his tip, circling it with her tongue, allowing herself to follow every vein and bump she can find. She doesn't rush, takes her time to admire his length, the tip flushing the same colour that often bloomed on his cheeks, and she quickly kisses him once more before taking him further into her mouth. He groans as she does, slightly bucking his hips, encouraging her to take more. She bobs up and down his cock, her tongue circling the tip every time she comes up and her hand twisting the base every time she comes down, slowly creeping further until most of his prick comfortably fits down her throat.

Using her hand, she strokes what she can't take, but as soon as she releases him to grasp at his thighs, he pushes his hips back, thrusting further until the remaining inches are down her windpipe. Y/N gags slightly, and he quickly pulls his hips back, pulling back from her own soaking heat. "Sorry! Y'alright?" While she can hear the concern laced within Harry's voice, she can tell he's desperate to get back to her heat, licking into her before she has a chance to respond. She nods anyway, coughing lightly into her hand and wiping the excess saliva off her mouth. "It's alright, Y/N, just jump back in when you're can." She takes a second to breathe and to enjoy the feeling of his mouth against her before she takes him back into her mouth, doing everything in her power to keep him there. 

Harry can feel her struggling to continue to suck him, can feel her gasp around him when a particular lick or suck made her cry out in pleasure. Both of their moans became louder, both trying their hardest to continue making the other feel good, but each stroke of Harry's tongue made her jaw go lack, and Harry was taking advantage, fucking into her mouth harder each time she relaxed her throat and mouth, dizzy with her own pleasure. 

Y/N can feel how close she is, taking her mouth off Harry briefly to avoid hurting him, putting both of her hands against the bed, on either side of the handsome boy's hips. When he begins to move, Y/N thinks he's going to beg her to keep going, thrust closer to her in an attempt to get her to lick him once more, but instead, he surprises her entirely. Bringing his knees behind her arms and tucking next to each of her breasts, he pushes her forward until she's face down on the bed. He places a hand between her shoulder blades, encouraging her to lay flat, and grasps at her hip up with the other, pulling upwards. Harry begins to eat Y/N out from behind, with even more fever than before, tucking two fingers into her hole and rubbing at the swollen area inside of her. 

Y/N can hardly contain herself, the added pressure bringing her much closer to climax, and she begins to shake in ecstasy. Harry starts talking behind her in between sucks, encouraging her while she teeters over the edge. "C'mon Y/N, give it to me. Can feel it, can feel how desperate you are." At that, Y/N explodes. She feels sparks flying through every portion of her body, her legs shaking at the intensity, and it only makes him rub her harder, trying to work her through it. His movements are slow as she begins to come down, his licks turning to nips and kisses at her inner thighs. 

Rubbing her back gently, he turned her over slightly so he could see her face, filled with a dopey grin, her eyes glazed and content. She makes eye contact with him, the grin only expanding. "Hi," she whispers. He giggles lightly, "hi. How was that, my love? How are you feeling?" She can only nod, mouthing a 'good,' from what Harry can guess, before leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss, her tongue saying all the thanks she clearly can't muster at the moment. He kisses back just as hard, allowing her to take some time to calm down, ignoring the pulsing ache of his still hard cock. 

Pouting, she pulls back from him, and he quickly ducks back in to nip at her bottom lip, still stiffly stuck out in front of her, "what's that look for? Hm?" She shakes her head, bringing her hand up to hold his cheek, and deepens the kiss once more. When Y/N speaks, she doesn't want to pull away, so only releases his lips from between hers, causing the words to vibrate against him as she says them, "want you to fuck me hard. You always talk about how rough you like it, but you've been treating me like a princess." Harry shivers, his cock bobbing against his inner thigh at her words, "didn't want to assume that's how you wanted it. You don't want to be treated like a princess?"

She shakes her head, her eyes widening at the way Harry's gaze turns hard, the soft and loving man she had only been privy to suddenly disappearing. 

He hears her swallow. "What do you want to be treated as then?" She shrugs her shoulders, suddenly feeling shy, becoming aware that maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew.

"Ah ah ah, words, lovey." 

They barely come out as a whisper, "I don't know." 

One look at Harry's face, and she can tell that wasn't enough. She asked him not to treat her like a princess, and here he was doing exactly that, purposefully embarrassing her. "Well, you must've had something in mind. Don't worry, I've got all day." The words come out pointed and harsh, and while he's given her no reason to, Y/N believes him. Knows full well that he would let her sit here for a whole day with not so much as a kiss if she didn't give him what he wanted. 

"I want you to treat me like a... slut." The last word comes out as a murmur, her cheeks flushing a bright red, and the look on Harry's face tells her he heard exactly what she said. "Hm, didn't quite hear you darlin'. What a shame." He begins to get off the bed, moving away from Y/N, but her next words stop him in his tracks. 

"A slut! I want you to treat me like a slut." She cries out. Y/N can't see his face, but it's pulled up into a grin, and he lets it fall as he turns around. "Tha's better. On all fours, now." 

Harry's words send a shiver up her spine as she scrambles to get on her hands and knees, the sudden movement no longer allowing her to see his face. She feels his hands on her hips, rubbing gently, before sliding down, pulling her open slightly. She feels the air flowing around her warm heat and feels goosebumps forming on her arms at the feeling. It only becomes worse when she feels Harry begin to blow slightly, the gust of air hitting her clit directly, causing her to clench and the boy behind her to let out a groan at the sight of her hole closing and then opening again. 

He directs his breath upwards until it hits her tightest hole, that one also constricting. While Harry didn't want to try anal tonight, he didn't want to deny her any pleasure, so he presses his tongue flat, licking a quick strip against her there. She startles, relaxing back into Harry as he rubs her hips. Collecting some of her wetness from her pussy, he brings a finger back up to her ass, sliding his pointer finger in gently, up to the first knuckle. She moans, pushing back into his hand, looking for more friction, so he slowly begins to push in further before bringing it back out and pushing it back in. 

"Can't wait to play with you here," he purrs, "but for now, I just wanna fuck you here." He slides the pointer finger of his other hand into her already weeping cunt, now fucking her simultaneously in both holes. Y/N's breath stops, if this is what it felt like with two fingers, she could hardly imagine what it felt like to be double penetrated with two cocks,  particularly those of Harry's size. 

"Please, Haz, please fuck me." The whine in Y/N's voice is music to his ears, never having heard her so desperate for him before. "You're just a desperate little whore, beggin' to be fucked, aren't you?" She nods, the movement almost hurting her neck with how quickly she's moving. He laughs, removing his fingers and slapping her ass cheek, leaving a red handprint that Harry thinks may bruise by tomorrow. "Don't even know if you deserve it," she whines again. "Oh hush with that, I'll decide when and how you get fucked, y'understand?" 

She nods, looking down away from Harry's intimidating stare. Who knew the same boy who insisted on celebrating their 'friendaversary' and bought her milkshakes every time she rode in his car would be the same man treating her like this, speaking such filth. "I'm sorr- Fuck!"

She doesn't even get to finish her sentence, his tip pushing into her as soon as she begins speaking. She hears him snicker behind her, turning to glare at him, to which he returns with a smug grin and a shrug of his shoulders. "Ready for more?"

Her annoyance is forgotten at the promise of more pleasure, and she whines out her response, "yes, fuck. Please, Harry." 

He begins to push in slowly, allowing her to adjust to each intruding inch, the feeling of her walls clenching his length each time he thrusts in further, causing his eyes to roll back into his head. 

He'd thought about this so many times, but he could have never imagined it feeling this fucking good. Never could he have imagined the sweat slipping down her skin and matting the hair he was pulling now. Never could he have imagined the way she tasted, sweet and salty. Never could he have imagined how perfectly she fit him. He could never have imagined how a swell of love and appreciation would mushroom inside of him at the first feeling of her wrapped around him. 

He didn't know why or how he had waited so long. He instantly regretted not making the first move in their university class. He instantly regretted not kissing her every chance he had. He hated the thought that he had waited this long for something he could have had the second he saw her. All he knew now was he could not lose her. He needed to keep her with him forever because, god knows, he's not sure he could live without her squeezing him like this or looking back at him with those fucking eyes. 

He's brought back into the moment when she begins to grind back against each push he gave her, the pleasure immediately doubling. 

Grabbing her hips, he pulls her back harder, squeezing the fleshy bits attached to her hips. Y/N groans at the feeling of Harry so deep inside of her, the feeling almost uncomfortable, but each time it was on the brink of becoming too much he would pull out once more, the relief leaving her aching for the penetrating feeling once more. 

At one particularly deep thrust, she cries out, grabbing one of Harry's hands that are still cemented to her hip, and he instantly threads their fingers together. She had never felt so physically connected to Harry before, and she feels herself clenching around him at the thought of them holding hands while doing something so filthy. 

"Can feel you squeezin' me. All because I held your hand? Tha's cute." 

She lets out a breathy laugh, slapping his hand slightly. "Just love you lots." He feels that warm fuzzy feeling spreading through him once more, so strongly it almost makes him dizzy. How did he get so fucking lucky? 

He pulls out and turns her around until she's facing him and slides back in, the movement easy due to Y/N's slickness becoming immeasurable since he'd first got his hands on her. "Love you lots too."

The position makes it easier for them to kiss, and Harry takes full advantage, resting his forehead against hers and pressing his lips to hers every few minutes. Slowing down while their tongues danced together until Y/N would thrust her hips, encouraging him to speed up once again. 

Each push of Harry's hips begins to feel more like a spark, the motion working as a flint to the fire starting in her belly, and it almost becomes too much. She feels herself grabbing onto his shoulders, wrapping her arms around him and scraping her fingernails against his skin at the intensity. Y/N had been fucked so many times, but it had never felt like this. It had never left a burn in her inner thighs like this. It had never made her heart expand in her chest like this, never had she ever felt tears pin pricking the corners of her eyes at how good it felt. 

Harry feels how much she's tightening around him and pushes harder while kissing at the teardrops glistening down her face. He admires the leftover mascara from the night before smudging under her eyes, her spit slicked and swollen lips forming an 'o' shape. He admires her hair fanned out below her on the pillow, and he admires the love bite he had left on her neck.

"C'mon, love. Can feel how much you wanna let go, give it to me, please."

Harry's voice is the final trigger, the fire spreading from her lower stomach to all over, the feeling causing her to jerk slightly, her legs stiffening as she feels the flames lick at her inner thighs. 

It's so intense, so much so that she feels more tears escaping her, a choked sob coming from deep within her chest. The only homage is Harry stroking her through it, his thumbs rubbing away the water staining her face, and his lips leaving small kisses in their wake.

"Tha's it. Come back to me Y/N, look at me." She opens her eyes, a small smile gracing her features. It's only then that she feels Harry rutting inside of her, small thrusts as if he knew she was too sensitive to take any more. She can see he's trying to hide his desperation, the small smile on his face contradicting the furrowing of his eyebrows, and the little whimpers escaping his mouth. 

"Hey, hey, it's alright, Harry. My turn to take care of you, hm?" She can see the sigh of relief leave him as he nods quickly, but the second he strokes back inside of her harder, she's crying out. She hadn't realised how sensitive she was, the movement of Harry's hips sending a burning pain through her, causing her to instinctively pull away. He looks horrified. The thought of his actions causing her so much discomfort makes guilt shoot through his system. "No, Y/N, you're way too sensitive! I don't want to hurt you." 

"It's okay, I'm okay." She nods, attempting to further reassure him before pushing him backwards until he is lying on his back, and she comes to straddle him, resting back against his thighs. Harry's struggling, stroking gently at his red-flushed cock, and Y/N coos at him, hoping to calm him slightly. When she leans back entirely and spreads her legs, Harry begins to understand what she's doing and holds his prick at the base as she gently begins to grind against the underside of it. 

Harry has the perfect view; he can see his head sliding through her folds, pushing through and opening them up so he can watch as it glides against her clit. Both of them moan out in unison, their most sensitive parts being pushed directly against each other, and Y/N almost loses her rhythm each time it happens. Without the added stimulation to her g-spot, she can handle the sensation that's just bordering on the brink of uncomfortable and continues pushing. Harry's crying out in pleasure, resting a calming hand on Y/N's thrusting hips, watching each time she spasms as the head of his cock hits her sensitive clit. 

Harry feels his whole groin begin to tense, his balls jumping as the feeling of pleasure begins to overtake his system. He begins to feel floaty, the rest of his body numb; the only thing he can focus on is the explosion of pleasure radiating from the head of his dick, and he watches as spurt after spurt of his cum erupts from his tip, painting Y/N's outer lips and pussy with the creamy substance. He sees her teetering on the edge of her own orgasm, the warm feeling of his seed only sending her closer, and he quickly replaces his softening prick with his thumb, rubbing against her until she cums once more, spasming at the intensity of it. 

As Y/N begins to come down, she feels Harry rubbing lightly around her outer lips, and at first, she thinks it's to comfort her, but quickly realises he's spreading his cum around her hole, up to her clit and back. Her eyes widen, a moan coming from Harry as he sees the silky substance spreading through the spattering of hair between her thighs. 

Y/N finally relaxes, slumping down against Harry's thighs, his bony knees indenting into her spine, but she's too drunk on her multiple orgasms to care. While he had managed to rile her up once more, the touch quickly became soothing again, his other hand rubbing at her hip. 

"Hey darling, how are you feeling?" She leans back onto her hands, and smiles, his flushed face and messy hair adorning his already handsome features, "hm so good. How are you." His cheeky grin appears on his face as he leans forward, pressing a sloppy kiss against her warm lips. 

"Better than ever. Scoot off, I'll grab a towel." She moves backwards, keeping her hips slightly off the bedding to avoid any stains, and waits awkwardly while Harry grabs a towel from the closet outside both of their bedrooms. He returns, gently wiping off any excess cum from both her and him, apologising gently when Y/N flinches at the sensitivity. 

He grabs her pyjama bottoms and top from the ground, holding them out for her and getting dressed himself. Y/N gets up from the bed, beginning to walk out to grab a glass of water, but before she can, Harry is grabbing her arm and envelopes her in a hug. He kisses the top of her head, standing at the entrance of her door while they just soak in the embrace of each other. 

They were both aware of a new dynamic emerging from what they'd just done. It was a scary situation, and the thought of navigating it made Y/N feel anxious. It's as if Harry can feel her thoughts radiating through her head because he instantly pulls her back and looks into her eyes, "hey, are you okay?" 

She smiles slightly, once again amazed at his supernatural ability to somehow read her mind, "yeh, I'm good. Just thinking about where we go from here." He nods, holding her face in his hands as he kisses her gently. "I mean, I know what I want, but I understand that's a conversation we have to have together. How about we go make breakfast and talk about it?" 

She grabs his hand, already feeling slightly at ease, his words making her believe he wanted a relationship with her, just as much as she did with him. 

Walking into the kitchen felt different than usual; she was warm, slightly sore between her legs, could feel Harry's hand in hers, and she guessed this was the first time she'd walked into this kitchen truly happy. Without speaking, they go about their usual Saturday morning routine, Harry making her tea and his coffee, and Y/N beginning to make the batter for their pancakes. 

He places the freshly made cup of tea on the bench in front of her while she is measuring ingredients and grabs the strawberries and bananas out of the fridge, setting up his station next to her to begin cutting up the fruit.

Harry's the first to speak, "so, did you want to talk about everythin'?" 

She nods, glad she had a distraction in the form of their pancakes, so she didn't have to look him in the eye as she laid out how she was feeling. "Yeh, guess I was wondering what you were hoping would come from this?" 

He stands with his hips cocked against the counter and his arms crossed, facing Y/N, giving her his full attention. Even if she wasn't going to warrant him the same, it wouldn't stop him from looking directly at her while he poured his heart out. "I mean, it's difficult because I'm still trying to pinpoint exactly when the love I have for you turned from something friendly to- ", he swallows heavily, "...to what it is now." 

At this, she glances up at him, seeing the genuine look settling across his features. "I remember when I realised." He looks surprised, his eyebrows raising as he nods at her, encouraging her to continue. "It was when I was still at uni, and I'd left writing this essay for sociology until the very last minute. You came over to help me write it, and in the middle of helping me, I fell asleep, and when I woke up in the morning, the rest of it had been finished. And you'd left, you didn't even stay and wait for me to say thank you, you just did it. And I remember when I saw you the next day, you were like, you were surprised that I was so grateful like you'd do it a million times over if you had to." 

As she continues talking, Harry's smile grows; he remembered that day. Had remembered writing the essay for her because he couldn't bear to wake her up when she was clearly exhausted. The fear of her leaving the course and them losing their friendship had spurred him to write out the 2000 word essay in a few hours, afraid that the fail she would have received would've been the final straw for her to quit university and leave him behind. 

"Do you remember that?" He smiles and nods, "yeh, I do. I was so scared you'd quit uni and stop talking to me." 

She laughs, "don't think I could have. Was in a serious state of denial. I think I liked you the first second I saw you and just didn't want to admit it." 

He giggles, the sound washing over Y/N so deliciously she has to close her eyes and take a deep breath to ground herself again. "Maybe I was in the same boat." 

Y/N can't help but grab Harry's face in her hands, feeling the bulging of his cheeks under her fingers as she moves closer to him, pressing her lips against his softly. It's an innocent touch, not sloppy or desperate like the ones that morning had been. 

Harry's words are the only thing that stops her from continuing, "I know it might be a bit different, but I'm willing to make this work if you are. I want to call you my girlfriend, I want to kiss you whenever I can, I wanna finally get my mum to stop asking me when I'm going to ask you out." 

She smiles against his lips, kissing him once more. 

"I'd love nothing more." 

[thebigbadbatswife]

Pushin’ Me Away

Summary - Y/N and Bruce Wayne have been dating for a year now, but recently he’s started pushing her away. Convinced he’s cheating on her, she goes to Wayne Manor to confront him, but ends up discovering more than she bargained for.

Warning(s) - Please only read if you are 18+, angst, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, fingering, batsuit kink, fluffy ending

Word Count - 2.7k

You and Bruce had been going out for the past year and it had been great. He was sweet and kind and caring. Nothing like the tabloids that had led you to believe. Constantly surprising you with flowers and gifts, taking you out on dates and the sex. Oh god the sex. It was absolutely phenomenal. Until recently that was.

In the past couple of months he only seemed interested in shoving you away. He was always busy. Late nights at the office, he claimed, but the last couple of times you hadn’t been able to reach his cell and called the office, you found out that he wasn’t actually there. Every question was deflected, he was no longer taking you out or surprising you and the sex had completely stopped. Every time you had tried to initiate it, he pulled away, said he was tired and that he needed to be up early.

At first all of it had confused you. Had you done something to cause him to push you away? And if so, why wouldn’t he just talk to you about it? After a lot of thinking, you eventually came to a conclusion. It wasn’t you that had done anything wrong, it was Bruce. He had to be cheating on you. It was the only thing that made sense. Not that you were surprised. You were so mundane compared to the other women he dated, it was only a matter of time before he got bored. It turned out he was exactly like the tabloids had described him. And it broke your heart.

You felt so stupid. You had actually fallen for him and thought you two could have a future. Everyone around you that had warned you about him had been right. He didn’t give two fucks about you and probably never did.

You had spent the entire night crying after your realisation. Curled up on the sofa under a blanket, eating a tub of ice cream and watching bad comedy films. As the credit started to roll on the third movie and you hit the bottom of your second tub you decided that you weren’t going to sit around and feel sorry for yourself. You were going to confront the bastard before walking out of his life for good.

Sure it was nearly three in the morning, but you didn’t care anymore. He thought he could cheat on you and get away with it? He had another thing coming! You set the empty tub aside and got up from the sofa. You headed toward your bedroom, got dressed and left your apartment.

As you pulled up to the Manor, you saw a couple of lights on through the windows. At least you knew he was home. You got out of your car and walked up the front steps. You were about to hit the doorbell when you noticed the door slightly ajar. You gently pushed it open and entered the Manor. You walked around the place to find it completely empty. No sign of Bruce or his butler, Alfred. Maybe this had been a mistake.

You were about to leave when you noticed the time on the broken grandfather clock in the hall had changed. Curious you walked over to it. Every time you had come to the Manor, the clock had always been stuck on the same time, midnight. Now it read 10:47pm. Upon further examination, you discovered a gap between the clock and the wall. You could feel a cold breeze coming from the gap. You went to move the clock when you got the feeling that you shouldn’t be there and that you should leave. If you had been anyone else, maybe you would have. Instead you shook the feeling away and continued to move the clock.

The clock moved surprisingly easily and you were now standing in front of a dark staircase that led down. The feeling from a few minutes ago came back even stronger, but you continued to ignore it as you took a deep breath and started your way down.

A million different thoughts ran through your head as you carefully followed the staircase down into the Earth. Was Bruce a serial killer? The documentaries you had watched on killers came to mind and it was almost always the good looking, charismatic ones. Or maybe this was one of those creepy sex dungeons that rich people supposedly kept. You’d find out soon enough

It wasn’t long before you started to hear voices. It was Alfred and Bruce and they were discussing… You?

  “Master Bruce, I really think you should tell her. If you keep this up I fear you might lose her.” Alfred said as he set the tray he was carrying onto the desk. On the tray was a cup of piping hot tea and a plate of cookies.

“If it keeps her safe, is that really such a bad thing?” he asked as he took one of the cookies.

“I just think you’ll regret it sir.”

“What makes you say that Alfred?” Alfred took a deep breath.

“I’ve just never seen anyone make you happy quite like she does.”

Not that he would say it out loud, but Bruce knew Alfred was right about that. It was no secret that he had been with his fair share of women, but none of them had made him feel the way he did with you. With you he didn’t need fake smiles and to pretend he was someone else. Nor did he need his flashy cars and expensive jewels. He could just be himself around you… or as much as possible without actually revealing the mask he wore most nights.

When your relationship had started to get serious, he thought of telling you. He got the feeling that he could tell you anything and you would accept him. At the same time though, he thought of the enemies he had made and if any one of them found out about you, the untold danger it would put you in. So he didn’t. He kept silent and hoped that you wouldn’t leave. But in recent months crime rates in Gotham had skyrocketed and his promise to the city, to his parents, had meant he had neglected your relationship quite a bit.

He wanted to take you out on dates and shower you in attention, but with his long nights, no sleep and long days at Wayne ENT, he didn’t have the energy. And he wanted to have sex with you. Why wouldn’t he? You were gorgeous and it was mind blowing, but he couldn’t risk you seeing the bruises across his body. If you saw them then he would have to come clean about his nightly activities and he couldn’t put you in danger like that. He wouldn’t put you in danger like that.

At the same time, he also knew there was only so much you could take. If things kept going the way they were, you were going to leave. He knew Alfred was right about that. Bruce was about to reply to him when he noticed his butler staring at something. He followed his gaze and felt himself froze when he saw what, or rather who, had caught Alfred’s attention. It was you. You had found the cave.

Before he had a chance to say anything, you had already taken off back up the stairs. One look at his butler told him everything he needed to know. Alfred had left the cave’s entrance open, on purpose. Bruce took off after you, but thanks to the injuries he had sustained that night he was slower than he would have been. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear your car already leaving the Manor’s grounds.

He stormed back down into the cave, grabbed his cowl off the desk and headed for the batmobile. He had no idea what he was going to say to you, only that he needed to catch up to you.

Okay so Bruce wasn’t cheating on you. That was a relief. At the same time though, what he was actually doing was somehow so much worse. Being cheated on, you at least knew how to deal with that. Him being Batman? You had no idea what to do with that information. It was times like this you really wished Bruce came with a manual.

You opened the door to your apartment and as you locked it, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something move. Of course he had followed you, why wouldn��t he? But you didn’t want to see him, not right now. You needed to digest what you had seen, to decide what you wanted now that you knew his secret. You went to unlock the door and leave when a gloved hand on your arm stopped you.

You immediately escaped his grasp and backed away from him. He was still in his batsuit and he held his cowl in his other hand. He went to walk toward you, but when you backed away further he stopped. Neither of you knew what to say so you stood there in silence, just staring at each other. Eventually the words came to you.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I wanted to, but how could I put you in danger like that?” You scoffed.

“Danger? Did you ever stop to think that dating Gotham’s wealthiest man has already put me in danger?!” It was the truth. Ever since your relationship had become public, the amount of death threats from jealous women, and men, had been ridiculous. And with the amount of psychos out in the world anyone of them could act on their threats. The silence that came from Bruce told you that he knew you were right.

You two stood there in silence again. As much as you wanted to stay angry at him, you couldn’t. You actually loved the thought that he had been trying to protect you. It was more than anyone else had ever done for you in your life. Sighing, you started to walk over to him. You stopped once you were right before him.

Bruce watched you warily as your fingers gently traced the symbol on his chest. Your fingers slowly moved away from the symbol and to his face. They ghosted over his black eye and moved down to his split lip. He looked like an absolute mess, but he was your mess.

You stepped back from him. There was something you wanted to see.

“I want to see you with your cowl on.” He looked at you for a moment before putting it on. Despite knowing he would never hurt you, you couldn’t help, but feel a little bit of the fear that the criminals he faced must feel. The fear factor aside, you couldn’t deny that he looked rather sexy in that suit. Especially with how it clung to all the right places on him.

You stepped forward. With your hands on his chest, you leaned up and kissed him. He kissed you back fervently, his hands coming up to rest on your waist. After a minute, you broke the kiss and pulled away from his embrace, before headed for your bedroom. When you realised he wasn’t following, you stopped at the doorway and looked back over at him.

“Aren’t you coming, Batman?” you asked in your sultriest voice. After months of him lying to you, you figured he owed you this much.

By the time Bruce… Batman had reached your bedroom, you were already in the process of removing your clothes. Your shoes, coat and top were already on the floor and you were about to start on your jeans when you felt his strong muscular arms wrap around you. He started by kissing your jawline, slowly moving down to your neck. As he kissed you, his hands roamed your body. While one of his hands moved up to your breasts, the other one found its way in between your legs. You gasped and your hips bucked involuntary as he rubbed you through your jeans.

He chuckled darkly before moving his hand away. You whined at the loss, but you didn’t have to complain for long as he spun you around and pushed you onto the bed. You sat up on your elbows as you watched in him stalk over to you, not unlike a predator would do to its prey. He removed your bra and made quick work of your jeans and panties.

After discarding his gauntlets, Batman leaned over you and pinned your hands above your head. He groaned against your neck as his free hand slipped between your legs and he discovered how wet you already were.

“Already so wet for me? How long have you wanted this baby?” Before you had a chance to respond, he was pushing his fingers into you causing you to cry out. As he relentlessly pumped his fingers in and out of you, he left hickeys all over your body.

As you came down from your third orgasm, he let go of your hands and pulled away. Your body felt far too weak for you to sit up and see what he was up to now. Not that you needed to as you could clearly hear the sounds of him removing his suit.

He leant back over you and you discovered he had removed everything, but his mask. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck so you could pull him down for a kiss. As you two kissed, he slowly pushed into you and you gasped against his lips. Once he was fully inside, he stilled and began to gently kiss your neck as you adjusted to his size. After all it had been awhile.

“You’re so tight baby.” he groaned against your neck. Once you had adjusted, you wrapped your legs around his hips and moved your own hips, to let him know you were ready.

Batman slowly pulled out of you before slamming straight back into you. Your nails dug into his back and you moaned loudly as he set a hard and fast pace. Each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your neighbours were going to kill you for being so loud, but you couldn’t care less. It had been so long since he had last fucked you, you’d be damned if you didn’t relish in it.

He moved one of his hands from its position by the side you of your head and brought it between your legs and started to play with your clitoris.

“Batman!” you cried as he pushed you over the edge. Feeling you tighten around him was more than enough to trigger his own orgasm so you came together.

He gently pulled out of you as you came down from your high. You felt him leave the bed, but before you could mourn his lost he was back with a damp cloth to clean you up with. Once he was done cleaning you up, he discarded the cloth and pulled you up to the pillows, where he pulled the duvet over the both of you and brought you in close to his body. You reached up and he lowered his head so you could remove his cowl.

Now that you were no longer distracted you could see the bruises that covered his torso. Clearly seeing the concern in your eyes, Bruce caressed your face and gently tilted your face upward toward him. “I’m fine.” he said before he leant in and kissed your cheek.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I’ve got you in my arms haven’t I?” You smiled and gave him another kiss. “I love you so much Y/N.”

You pulled away from him as you both realised what he had just said.

“I’m sorry, you what?” you asked.

“I love you, Y/N. I have done for a while now.” A big smile spread across your face as his words sunk in. He loved you. Bruce Wayne loved you!

“I love you too, Bruce.” Because of course you did. Why wouldn’t you? Despite the earlier lying and pushing you away, he was amazing in every way. After a couple more kisses, you both fell asleep wrapped up in each others’ arms.

[nejiraez]

one day, you all will know true peace when i stop making bakugou the default character to the maladaptive daydreamz i write. but until then...

get well soon! | bakugou katsuki

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader // 2.9k words

genre: fluff — contains spoilers from mha chap 298; includes kissing, thats it!

summary: free bakugou until it’s backwards!!! but until then, he appreciates having your presence around as he takes the time to properly heal.

the way i haven’t written a full fic since oct </3... but i needed to post this b4 aquarius season ends tmrrw...

He’s never had to stay this long in a hospital before.

Sure, there were minor check-ins that he had to tend to at the clinics every so often from the injuries he’s received, but he never had to stay more than a few days at hand.

“Only a couple more days until you’re discharged…” 

The sound of your voice prompts Bakugou to shift his gaze away from the TV screen stationed at the corner of his hospital room to focus his sights on you. Deep shades of scarlet watch as your hands absent-mindedly pick at the white petals from the bouquet that his mother had gifted him. 

Carnations, a ‘get well soon’ present that would prompt him back to wellness. They were becoming quite the eyesore. The stems were beginning to droop and dull in colour with how poorly maintained they had been kept for the past week.

“That must be exciting for you, yeah?”

Bakugou shrugs, but he’s quick to regret his slight movement due to the small wince that follows shortly after. Despite being placed in the hospital for a little over a week now, a great mass of Bakugou’s body still aches. “It’s whatever,” he mutters, dismissing the subject matter altogether, “I’ll be back to doing the same crap over again anyway, so it’s nothing special.”

Closing your eyes, you sink yourself further down into your seat near his bedside and sigh. The windows a few steps away from Bakugou’s left allow for the sun’s late afternoon glow to beam into his room. You’ve sat here with him for the past two hours and a half from when you first came.

“You’re so pessimistic, you know that?” You announce, resting your arms against the bed’s side rails, which promote access to you, propping your cheek onto your hands with your face turned towards Bakugou. “Always thinking so negatively.”

Choosing not to respond to your comment, Bakugou soaks in the brief silence shared within the confines of his room.

For the past few days, other than his immediate family, who was relentless about visiting him as much as they could- save for the days where work would pull them away- your regular visits were something that became apart of Bakugou’s daily schedule. 

Wake up. Eat whatever shitty food the kitchen staff has to offer for the day. Wait through numerous check-ups and appointments, while the nurses examine the vital state of his internal organs. And then, he has a bit of free time to himself before either you or any visitor arrives at Hosu General hospital.

“I’m just telling it as it is.”

Bakugou would be lying if he said that he didn’t look forward to your visits.

Like Pavlov’s law, he’s grown conditioned upon awaiting your arrival every day, always finding himself sitting a bit straighter in his bed whenever 15:00 rolled around on the clock. 

Growing bored with not much to do, Bakugou allows his eyes to wander the room, skimming each object with little to no thought before his eyes would drop down on your form once again. With your eyes still closed, Bakugou takes this chance to absorb your presence before him fully. Watching the tiny twitches that would happen every now and then on your face out of curiosity.

The amount of fear and dread that washed over you the moment you caught news of how Bakugou jumped in front of his childhood friend, Midoriya, to spare his life, in turn, putting his own on the line had you aching to the bone. 

You were scared and couldn’t bring yourself to the thought that you would lose him, and there wasn’t much that you could do about it since you and a few others were far from where the main fight had gone down.

Regardless of whether Bakugou had a chance of waking up or not, you were still adamant about swinging by his hospital room as often as you could until the second day where he miraculously woke up. And caused an uproar as he did. He had to be restrained as he tried to check up on the others’ wellbeing as he did so.

To be placed inside of a room alone, with no one around to tell him what the fuck exactly went on, Bakugou was on edge. Hands down, that day would take the cake as being the most overwhelming experience he has had at his time here. Where were was Deku, for starters? And where did you disappear off to? 

He really didn’t deserve you.

Pulling himself out from his thoughts, Bakugou breaks the silence to pester you with something. “Pass me that, will you?” He asks, nodding his head over to the sole snack that sat on his bedside table. Something that one of the nurses left behind for him after his physical exam.

You blink, snapping yourself back to reality. You crane your next behind you, following his line of sight to the bright Tarami packaging. “Sure,” you grab and toss it for him to take.

Bakugou grunts out his gratitude. “Getting to eat normal food again will be the pinnacle of my life,” he states, rolling the Tarami around in his hands. “They feed us nothing but literal dog water and bland shit. “

“I’m sure the staff is trying their best. You aren’t the only mouth they feed in here after all,” you say, referencing the fact that your other peers, such as Todoroki and Midoriya to name a few, found themselves in the same situation as he did. 

“I fuckin’ guess,” he mutters in response, his focus shifted onto trying to rip open his snack but to no avail.

“Want me to - ”

“Don’t need it,” he says, cutting your sentence short. His bandaged thumbs are still fumbling to get a good grip on the plastic seal that stood in the way between him and his fruit cup. “This stupid gauze is just - ” The cup tumbles out from his hold and rolls out onto his lap. “Dammit!”

You smile at the display in front of you. Bakugou glaring at the container as if it had crossed him wrong was quite the sight to see. The fact that he has shown no signs of making another attempt at opening the seal gave you an indication that it was your turn to step in.

What a dork.

“Jesus, Katsuki,” you say, shaking your head at his stubborn nature. You take the fruit cup off his lap and, without issue tear the seal off before passing it back to him. He was too headstrong for his own good sometimes. “Nobody’s gonna bite you if you ask for help once in a while.”

Bakugou scoffs - losing steam now, he tips the rim of the cup against his lips, knocking back as many diced peaches he could fit inside of his mouth.

A mix of wonder and admiration suddenly crosses you as you study how quick he is to swallow down his food. Not even bothering to make use of the silver spoon left astray on the stand.

Bakugou silently chews. His cheeks have bulked up in size for the time being until all traces of food have been gone. Cute. “You’re so - ” You start but cut yourself short, wanting to enjoy the serene atmosphere rather than spurring him to the edge towards nagging at you.

You reach your hand out towards Bakugou, thumb grazing the corner of his mouth to clean the small mess he has made, to which he gently swats your hand away. His mannerisms were still the same as ever, never changing.

“I’m so what?” He asks, flicking his attention onto you as he watches the way your eyes linger on his face.

“You’re so amazing, was what I was going to say.” 

“Damn straight.”

You half-heartedly roll your eyes at his narcissistic response and reach for your phone, checking the time. “Wow, it’s now getting to 18:00?” You exclaim, swiftly entering the passcode to your iPhone and so that your fingers could scroll to the Tokyo Train Navigation app to check the times of when you should catch the next ride home.

Bakugou brows bump together in confusion at your surprise. “What about it? That means you’re ditching me already?” 

“Only for today though, the next train is coming in 30 minutes, and I gotta catch it before it gets dark out.”

As much as Bakugou isn’t a big fan of having your time spent together but abruptly short, he understands where you’re coming from, mentally putting himself in your shoes. 

At hours like these, when the begins to sun hide behind the city’s tall, towering buildings, it isn’t an ideal situation to have you walking out alone in the middle of dimly lit streets where villains may lurk at any corner. Especially after the shit show that went down this past week with the jailbreak.

He’d have no problem walking you home at times like this, but he can’t. Not when he’s on a “house arrest” list with the staff of the hospital.

“Fine,” he replies, dropping his head into his hands, which then finds purchase through his hair. Pissed with the cards he’s been dealt with. Feeling like he should clarify about your safety, Bakugou pipes up, “Make sure you ask the front desk to have one of their idiot guards walk you to the station. I hear that they do that.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, collecting your belongings from the ground. “Not trying to be edited in with the clouds.” A remark that was supposed to prompt a lighthearted, humorous feel to the conversation, but Bakugou remains tight-lipped as ever. A fitting expression for your grouch of a boyfriend.

“I’m serious. Text me when you get home too.”

“And so am I! I love my life.”

And he loves you-- was something that Bakugou refrains himself from saying. It was something that he still had trouble saying verbally but had no difficulty expressing.

You walk towards the door, ready to bid your counterpart a farewell, but he beats you to the punch.

“The hell are you doing?” Bakugou’s voice halts you from making your grand exit.

He stares at you sharply from his bed. Glowering with jaw taut as he eyes your hand placed onto the sliding door. “Cut that shit out, come back.”

“For why?”

You hear Bakugou breathe out a hushed hiss, becoming peeved at how evasive you were when he knew for a fact that you were aware of what he wanted you to do for him. “Come and do the thing.”

At his sudden inquiry, you finally turn around to face him. “What thing?” You prod, wanting to hear him say what he wanted out loud. To be straightforward with you for once rather than dancing around the topic like he always does.

Sidestepping the multiple wires and the IV tube that he was hooked up to, at last, you close the distance between you both. Finding yourself back beside Bakugou’s bed, and now settle yourself down onto the small space that he has created for you on his mattress. 

You feel giddy. A hazy warmth exudes from your chest that spreads down to your toes as you watch the slow change of pigmentation in Bakugou’s face. Blotches of a soft, rosy pink littered his exposed neck, indicating the effect that had over him.

Caving in, Bakugou swallows down his pride and utters, “Kiss me…” His tone is wavering in the slightest.

There it was.

Propping your hand near Bakugou’s face to steady yourself, you nod. You’re gentle in the process as you move much closer to Bakugou, attentive as not to brush up against any of his wounds. “Okay,” you murmur. 

You think to yourself about how pretty looks from your point of view. Admiring how Bakugou's plush and soft skin was despite the light bruises and scratches he’s gained from the fight, he looked very well-maintained for a hospital patient.

The more time that you take, you become aware of the fact that Bakugou isn’t above taking a fistful of your shirt and tugging you down so that you could meet his lips. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise you if he were to do so right now.

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he waits. Patiently, for you to make your move and just fucking kiss him already. Though there’s only so much he can take before he breaks.

Feeling the bed dip beside him, Bakugou could damn near feel his heart hammering against his chest. “Hurry up and get on with it will you,” he chides, his striking features already beginning to twist into an unreadable expression.

You laugh, unable to bite back your giggles as the male fixed you with his signature scowl. “Look at you, being a bully to the person you want a kiss from...” You say, leaning in close, now only hovering a few mere centimetres from his lips, both of you desperate for what would come next.

“You’re so mean, I swear.”

And that’s when you decide to close the distance, pressing your lips together.

It was quite sweet, literally, for his lips tasted of citrus.

Bakugou does a poor job at suppressing down his groan the moment your fingers wind themselves into his hair. The pads of your fingertips adoringly dance across his scalp.

The kiss starts off relatively chaste, both of you relishing in each other’s warmth as you pepper several small kisses against him—your stomach ties into knots as you experience how gentle he was being with you.

Despite the dull aching pains that Bakugou could still perceive whenever he made broad movements with his arm, his hand steadily finds its way to reach up towards your neck, pressing you further against him to deepen the kiss, swiping his tongue upon your lower lip. 

When your tongue comes into contact with his, it’s tentative and quick. And then it happens a few more times before fully feel comfortable enough to full-on kiss Bakugou.

Your thought process was growing muddled. Not a clear premise came to mind as his bandaged hand trails to the small of your back and back up again.

With every sound or hum of approval that you made way past your lips, it fed Bakugou’s desire to satisfy both you and his needs even. His thumb smooths over the curve of your jaw, easing your nerves each time you shyly pull away attributable to the great intimacy that swirled between you both.

He chases your lips, fervent on returning your energy that you were relaying to him, back tenfold. He loves you. So fucking much, and he only hopes that his appreciation and devotion may reach you.

You choke on a tiny gasp. “Katsuki - ” And that’s when he feels it, right in his chest. It’s as if he has been jump-started back to life, his heart quite literally skipping a beat at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips. It was adorable, and he wanted to hear you like that again. Say his name like that again, on loop without end.

Fuck.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, your breathing was starting to grow laboured now, and you decide to break the kiss before things can escalate and before you miss your train.

Pulling away from Bakugou, the traces of confidence that you once had prior to the kiss have all but flung itself out the window, completely gone now. “I’ll, uhm -” You stammer over your words, brain trying to compose a proper sentence in spite of your current dazed state. “I’ll be back to see you again, with the others.”

With how flustered and scatterbrained you were acting, it stroked Bakugou’s ego beyond belief. A wicked smile threatens to split upon his face, but he bites it down along with his greed to ask for one more kiss before you go. “Tomorrow,” he affirms, flicking his eyes back towards the TV—an entirely new show publicized on its screen.

You hoist yourself up from the bed and stand to your feet, ignoring how your knees almost buckle. “Right,” you say. No fucking way were you this beat up over making out with your own boyfriend, for crying out loud- you thought as you wander towards the door, almost taking out one of the monitors in your trail. 

Sliding the door open you step out, but you poke your head back in, stalling a bit so that you could look at the blonde for the last time that day. “But until then, get well soon, okay?” 

Bakugou’s eyes stay glued to the screen, trying to distract himself from how damn sweaty his palms were, that or how he could feel the beat of his heart pick up in tempo. Its incessant pounding was all too much for him.

It’s so stupid how whipped he found himself to be nowadays. “I know,” he dismisses, a bit all too quickly. He wants your ass out before you have a chance to glance at the heart monitor he was wired up to.

Fortunately enough for him, you don’t. You wave and close the door behind you, your smile being the last thing he sees.

With the coast clear, Bakugou throws himself back onto his mountain of pillows. “Shit,” he curses, panting out a sigh of relief seconds after you were gone.

That was amazing, you were amazing, he thought, recounting the kiss. He swipes his palms against his sheets, being sure to get rid of any nitroglycerin that may linger to activate his quirk successfully.

Bakugou can’t stress how much he’s aching for nightfall to come, knowing that he would be one sleep from getting to see you again, and again, and again, until he would finally be let free.

But until then, as you had said, he had to heal.

And with the knowledge of you being around whenever he needed you the most, Bakugou was most definitely on the bright path to a speedy recovery.

[bakugosbratx]

NSFW 18+ The Assistant— AU Levi Ackerman x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Smut, degrading, cursing, punishment, dom levi, sub reader, bondage, bdsm, some angst, toxic relationship, spanking, cheating, etc.

Words: 3, 673

Check out my other works here

A/N: Me and my irl moot @idfkwtfgof came up with this idea so I decided to write it out. Enjoy this fifty shades of gray moment. I’ve been working on this for over a month 🙃 I’m sorry it took me forever.

Tags: @idfkwtfgof @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie

You take a deep breath as you approached the double doors in front of you. Your heart pounded against your rib cage. The silent hallways seemed to be echoing the thumps. Anyone in your position would be nervous too if they had to meet with the CEO of the Ackerman Industries. He was not one to enjoy much company nor request it. His gaze alone could intimidate the strongest of people and you are no different.

Fist resting on the wooden door in front of you, you hesitate, but close your eyes and knock anyway. You did not hear a response as you patiently wait. Instead, the door swings open to be met with the CEO himself, Levi Ackerman. Not a word was spoken, but he ushered you inside his huge office.

Scurrying, you slightly jump as you heard the huge door slam. You are in Levi’s office. Only businessmen and women are allowed in here. You feel not even worthy to be stepping on the same floor these successful people walk on. It could also be the fact that the office seemed spotless. For someone as busy as the CEO, he sure did know how to make a stack of papers seem neat in a stack.

“Sit.” Levi instructed as he strolled over to his desk chair and doing the said action. You looked around the room. Behind Levi is a wall of windows to overlook the city of New York. His desk his a beautiful dark brown that was so clean that you could see your reflection. Along with seeing your reflection, you can see —and feel— Levi starring at you. Meeting his silver orbs, you gulp.

“Do you know why I called you in here, Y/N?” Levi questioned, his tone remaining calm as always. Somehow, this intimidated you even more.

“No, sir, I don’t.” You admit. In all honesty, you are not sure why Levi called you into his office. He waited until almost everyone has gone home for the evening to set up this meeting. You have felt nauseous all day about it. Receiving an email from the CEO was enough to make anyone’s breath hitch, but to have a meeting — alone — with him is enough to make one soil themselves.

“I want to offer you a promotion,” Levi explained, his gaze hardening. “That is, if you want it?”

This is way better news than you expected. Levi has employees for a reason. He always calls the shots since it is his million dollar company, but why get his hands dirty when he can pay people to do it for him? Since no one is allowed in his office without special permission, this seemed a bit off.

“What does the job intel?”

“Well, my company is expanding even larger than anticipated this year. I need a personal assistant. Examining the work you have put in over the years, I decided you are cut out for the job. What do you say?”

You take a moment to contemplate his words. The offer is amazing and would definitely look great on your resume, but working so close to the CEO of the company is quite intimidating. Any bad habits you have developed better end swiftly or else it’s your job on the line. Levi is not afraid to terminate anyone not fit for the job.

“I’ll take it.” You smile, the words flowing out before you could even think any further.

“You start tomorrow. I expect you in my office 8am sharp. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Standing up, you straighten out your black pencil skirt and head your way towards the door. Levi’s eyes did not once leave your figure. The way you naturally sway your hips as you walk and the way the skirt hugged your hips just right. His eyes are enjoying the desires most men have yet when you turned to look over your shoulder, his eyes where focused on his paperwork.

You went home that night, excited to tell your significant other about your promotion. He did not even blink an eye in your direction. Instead, he is pissed that you are home later than normal.

“Babe—“

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed.

“I-I was called into the CEO’s office. I got a promotion!” You stammered, nervous under your boyfriend’s glare. He always made you feel small and his anger tends to send you over the edge. This is one of those many times.

“Why would he have you in there this late? Do you think I’m really that fucking stupid?” He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Babe, I’m being serious. I would never lie to you.” You argued.

“And how do I know that?” He countered. “How am I certain that you aren’t cheating on me? Or even hurt? Are your damn thumbs broken, Y/N? Can’t keep me updated ‘bout what’s going on? I was worried sick about you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll do better.”

Your boyfriend walked over to you, embracing your body into a tight hug. You had so much more to say, but to prevent any further escalation of an argument, you apologized and kept your mouth shut.

The next morning arrived. You woke up extra early to have time to do your hair and makeup, dressed in your nicest attire, and wear the most expensive of jewelry. Since you are going to be around the CEO for now on, you cannot show up to work appearing sluggish. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe.

“Dressed quite nicely, huh?” He spoke, meeting your eyes through the mirror. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.

“I have to be.”

He stayed silent for a moment, his orbs tracing your figure. He hated when you showed confidence. It killed him inside and knowing that other men saw your beauty as well made his blood boil. He just has to ruin it.

“For the circus? Your makeup looks awful and your hair is tremendous.” He scoffed.

You bit your bottom lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you prevented them from falling. You refuse to let him ruin your confidence. You are a strong woman and his insecurities shouldn’t be placed upon you. It is not your baggage to carry.

You meet his eyes again through the mirror. You feel your confidence crumble beneath you, but you remain strong. Turning around, you brush past him as you stroll out of the bathroom. You ignored him calling your name and demanding you to return. All he could do is watch as you left without even saying goodbye.

You arrived to the business earlier than expected. You have checked your hair and makeup more than once in the car review mirror. You are not necessarily even wanting Levi’s approval, — though he is quite handsome — you just want to look presentable. He is your boss, after all. He is not afraid to fire anyone on the spot. You are no exception.

Inhaling a sharp breath, you knock on Levi’s office door. You hear his approval to come inside and welcome yourself inside. You were not even receive a glance as you closed the door behind you. Levi’s gray orbs never left his monitor screen. You gulp nervously as you proceed towards his desk.

“I stopped to get some coffee. I brought you a tea,” you lay his cup on his desk, “just how you like it.”

He nods, still typing away. This did not help your anxiety at all. Is he regretting his decision making you his assistant? Are you disturbing him? Is he contemplating firing you? Your stomach turned at the thought.

The sound of the printer disturbed your nuisance thoughts. Levi grabbed the piece of paper and placed it on top of a neat stack. He stands up, finally looking at you.

“I have a meeting to attend to in an hour. I need these documents assorted in alphabetical order before then.”

Your eyes fall to the tall stack of papers. You definitely need more than an hour to get through them all. By Levi’s facial expression, you knew he was serious. Levi always looked serious.

“Yes, sir,” you grab the stack and meet his a gaze again, “I’ll get it done swiftly.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. Sit over there.” He orders, glancing at the couches and coffee table in the middle of his office. Maybe it is just your nerves, but his workspace seems bigger than remembered. This did not help your anxiety.

You began getting to work. You thought you are doing well on time, but time seemed to have passed you by. Levi is now towering over you, his unsatisfied silver orbs glaring down at you. You hesitate, but force yourself to meet them.

“Thought you said you would have this done?” Levi recalls.

“I-I’m really sorry, s-sir.” You stammered, expecting the worse.

“Sorry doesn’t sort the papers, Y/N.” He scolds, his silver eyes only being shown through slits.

“I—“

“We will discuss this after my meeting. Until then, I want my office spotless.” Levi continues, cutting you off. He begins walking towards the door and pauses once he reaches for the handle. “Oh and Y/N?”

You look up, meeting the CEO’s annoyed orbs. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re on strike one.” Levi warns. You did not even have a chance to ask questions as his office door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone to sulk in your thoughts.

You tidied up Levi’s office like he requested of you. Every paper went into its appropriate home, cushions are straightened out, rug is vacuumed, and you are currently dusting. This man is a clean freak by nature so there was not much to do. Still, your nerves were pulsating. This is only day one and you are not on Levi’s good side. You are becoming worrisome as your job is now potentially on the line.

The door opening made you jump. You can feel Levi’s silver orbs on you as you dust his bookshelf. He did not disturb you, though, as he proceeded towards his desk and went to work like nothing happened. Curiosity is begging you to speak, but you remain silent and complete your task.

You gather the cleaning supplies and place them back into the small closet. Returning on the guest side of Levi’s desk, he does not even look up from his monitor.

“I’m finished cleaning, sir.”

Levi did not say anything. Instead, he stood up and went to the window. His fingers grazed along the exterior which collected dust on the tips. He studied it for a moment. Your heart stopped as your breath hitched. You did not mean to forget the windows, but they look so clean already. They truly do not need much more cleaning.

“Seems like you missed a spot.” He remarks, turning to face you.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I thought—“

“Your cleaning is lamentable. Back to dusting. Now.” He demands, cleaning the dust off of his fingers with his handkerchief.

“Yes, sir.” You reply, gathering the cleaning supplies once again. You sprayed the windows and clean every inch of them until lunch time. Levi was sure to inspect your work before releasing you to go get something to eat.

“You’re dismissed.” He finally speaks. You are quick to collect your belongings leave his office. You stroll the long hallway to the elevator. You are finally alone with your thoughts and honestly, they were overwhelming. This job is very nerve racking and it’s only your first day. You are not making the best of impressions on your boss.

Digging in your purse, you check your cellphone. You have several missed calls and texts from your significant other. A pit in your stomach began to drown your appetite. You know this is going to cause a major fight between you two. A fight you did not want to participate in.

Reluctantly, you call your boyfriend back. He picks up on the second ring.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He hissed, sending chills down your spine. The elevator doors open and you head towards the cafeteria.

“Working. I can’t be on my phone while I’m—“

“So work is more important than me?” He interrupts.

“What? No. That’s not it at all.” You argued, picking up a bag of chips and a drink from the dispensers before checking out.

“Then answer my damn calls, Y/N!”

“I can’t when I’m at work!” You exclaimed. You hand the cashier money before mouthing the words ‘thank you.’ She gave you a worried look, but you disregarded it. This is not the first time that have heard a heated conversation between you and your boyfriend.

You go find an empty table to eat by yourself. The bickering between your boyfriend did not end on a good note as the other line went dead. You slammed your phone back into your purse and forced yourself to eat your chips. You did not even want them. Your relationship is falling through the cracks, you are failing at your job, and you are on the verge of losing what is left of your sanity.

Time really slipped away while you fumed in anger because you are now late to returning to Levi’s office. Tears prickled in your eyes. This is not good at all. Levi is going to be furious. Even possibly firing you.

You raced to his office. You did not even take the elevator as it will take far too long to get to his office. You are panting by the time you arrive and sweat droplets formed at the top of your forehead. Your hands began to shake as your hand rested on the handle. You need to go in there, but your body did not want to move. Your boyfriend is already pissed. You did not want to deal with your furious boss.

Sighing, you forced yourself to go inside. “I am so sorry.” You blurt out as you enter inside. Levi is giving you a disapproving look.

“Take a seat, Y/N. We need to have a talk.”

Following your boss’ orders, you sit in the chair parallel to his. You begin to tremble as you expect the worse. Levi’s glare does not help you feel any less uneasy either. His silver orbs are staring deep into your soul and making you feel small.

“You know you’re on strike three.” Levi begins. You gulp.

“I know, sir. I’m very sorry. I’ll accept any punishment you have in mind for me.” You sigh, trying to remain brave. Levi can see right through it, though. His gaze hardens and he makes his way around to your side of the desk. He folds his arms but does not remove his gaze from you once.

“What punishment do you think you deserve?” Levi ask, hoping you have the same answer in mind as him.

“I-I’m not sure. I’ll take anything. It’s what I deserve.” You admit, a flustered feeling coming across you. Levi studied your features, clicking his tongue.

“Bend over the desk.”

“What?” You whispered, not sure if you heard your boss correctly. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His intimidating glare pierced through you.

“Talking to that lame ass boyfriend of yours must have you goin deaf. I said bend over my desk.” Levi instructs, letting go of your chin once you catch his drift. You do as your told, bending over his desk. You are uncertain what he is planning to do, but the removal of your skirt gave you a pretty good idea. Your cheeks felt hot as your bare ass is now exposed to Levi’s viewing.

“Lace panties, huh? You planned on being put in this position later?” Levi chuckles, his digits playing with the strap of your thong. You bit your bottom lip, not knowing what to say. A hard smack to your bare ass caused you to release a moan.

“I asked you a question. It’s only polite to answer, brat.”

“Yes. It was for my boyfriend.” You confess in embarrassment for more reasons than one.

“Oh, I see. Your toxic little relationship is in need of fixing, but the only thing you have to offer is your pretty little pussy.” Levi analyzes, rubbing his hand on your ass before delivering another slap. You wince in pain, but you mentally screamed for more. You wanted Levi to continue spanking you.

“That’s not it, sir.” You mumbled. His hand landed down on your sore ass once more while the other hand finds refuge in your hair. He pulls it, tightly, bending your head back.

“What really gets me is this mouth of yours. I suggest you use it to tell the truth before I stuff it.” Levi growls lowly in your ear, letting go of your hair to return behind you.

Another slap was delivered. Little melodies of moans escaped your lips that you attempted to conceal. Levi did not comment on it as he proceed with the punishment. Your cunt dripped with your slick. It is begging to be touched, fucked, anything Levi desires really.

A few slaps and a very red ass later, Levi’s digits founder their way inside your soaked cunt. “Someone enjoyed themselves, hm?” He teased, curling his fingers in you. You shuffle a bit, enjoying the sensation he is giving you. The removal of his fingers made you whine in a needy tone.

“I did, Levi. Please fuck me.” You cry, wanting his cock already. He chuckled at your begging, his hand rubbing your red ass then hitting it again.

“On your knees. Now.” Levi demands. You happily oblige before him. He pats your head in approval. “Good girl. You do know how to listen.”

Levi begins unbuckling his black belt. You are practically foaming at the mouth as he slides the leather out of each loop. He sets it on the desk before proceeding to unbuckle his pants, releasing his hard cock for you to pleasure. Your eyes light up at the sight. The tip of his erection is at your lips, ready for you to move forward. Your tongue teases his sensitive head before you let each inch slide in-and-out of your saliva filled mouth.

“Yeah, like that, baby.” Levi praises as you deep throat his length. You choke some, but continue taking all of his cock. Your tongue spends time playing with the veins in his cock while his head relaxes in your throat.

“The cock hungry slut having a hard time deep throating all my cock?” Levi mocks as you pull it out to catch your breath. A string of saliva connected your lips and his cock together as your lust filled orbs met his.

“Not a chance.” You grin, placing his dick back in your mouth. Levi groans in delight as you repeat the same patterns as before. His cock twitches inside your mouth as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down your throat. You gladly swallow it as his cock becomes overwhelmed, releasing his semen onto your tongue. Not a drop was spilled as you milked his cock for all he had to offer.

Pulling away, Levi praises you again. “Such a good little slut you are. Time we give your pussy some attention, huh?”

“Yes, please, sir.” You beg, eagerly. He taps his desk.

“Bend over my desk.” He commands. Following orders, you bend over his desk like before. You arched your back so your ass and pussy is more accessible for Levi. He spreads your legs out more so your weeping cunt is fully exposed. The cold air sent chills down your spine. Levi is already hard again as he stares at your pussy.

Aligning himself, the tip of his cock enters your dripping hole, sliding in perfectly. You moan as he thrust a rough rhythm. His hips slap against your ass and his hands cling onto your hips. You tightly hang onto his desk as he pick up the pace. You sob out pleas for more.

“Better quiet down. Don’t want your coworkers hearing me fuck you like the whore you are now do we?”

You did not even care. You wanted Levi and you wanted him bad. Groans and profanities filled the room from you two as Levi hits all the right spots. You babble incoherent sentences as you start to climax again on Levi’s girth. Your walls clenched on his size and released when he re-enters himself. This does not stop Levi, though, as he chases after his own high.

“Already cumming again, slut?” Levi teases as he is slowly losing himself inside you. He hit your ass again while his dick twitches. “Ask permission next time.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You cry out, not wanting him to stop. He pulls on your hair again, bending down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to fill you up so much that you have to hide it from your boyfriend.”

“Please Levi.” You beg, not even caring anymore. You wanted Levi. You have wanted him for a long time and the feeling is mutual on his end. That is why he hired you, after all.

Levi’s cock could not withstand the pressure anymore. Releasing into the depths of your cunt, he huffs profanities as every drop enters inside of you. You gladly take it as you breathe heavily. He finally pulls out, leaving you a cum filled mess. Giving your ass a gentle tap so you will get up.

“You are dismissed for the day.” Levi grumbled as he situated himself and you did the same. You straightened out your outfit and fixed your hair. You will fix your makeup in the restroom. You proceeded to exit your boss’ office when he called out to you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You purred, looking over your shoulder.

“Let your boyfriend know you’re my slut now.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[honeytae]

Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests or not, but I was hoping I could request something along the lines of where you’re in love with your best friend, taehyung, but he doesn’t know and he’s getting married soon. you don’t tell him how you feel until the night of his wedding when you’re a bit tipsy from drinking your feelings away. you can decide the ending! thank you in advance if you end up writing this! hope you’re doing well and staying safe. Xx

hi darling! i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write. i couldn’t get it to a point where i was satisfied with it for a really long time, i still don’t feel that good about it honestly but hopefully it’s okay for you!!! i tried to make it angsty (yikes) so hopefully it’s not horrible lmao

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters

genre: angst

word count: 1.6k

warnings: um so much heartbreak, oc is a little (very) in denial about the situation and comes off a little toxic tbh, requited love but nothing they can do about it now, mentions of tae going into a panic attack

You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the ‘congratulations to the happy couple,’ nor the Mr. and Mrs. Kim sign practically floating over their heads. You couldn’t handle the copious bouquets and all the preparations that went into this.

And you felt like a complete asshole about it.

Which is precisely why you decided to prematurely exit the event, doing yourself and everyone else a favor by leaving for the night to go sulk in your hotel by your lonesome.

The elevator ride up to your floor was miserable, your own battles within your mind coupled with the fact that your floor was the top one, making the ride excruciatingly long on top of everything else.

Rustling with the hotel key in your bag seemed to take forever as well, finally barging into your half unpacked space with a sigh. You quickly shut the door behind you, hoping you’d been able to sneak away from the hotel lobby without any guests noticing.

Shuffling further into the room, you sat on the edge of the king bed in the center of the room, placing your head in your hands at the mere prospect of this weekend.

Taehyung was getting married. Kim Taehyung, your best friend, the one person you’d been pining for since middle school, would be legally bound to someone else in less than twenty four hours.

Maybe you just shouldn’t have come. Despite sending red flags to Tae, you couldn’t think of a better solution than fleeing at this exact moment. Why did you think you could handle this?

Two knocks against the locked door had your head raising from its resting place, cursing under your breath at someone coming after you.

You didn’t feel well. That would be your excuse.

“Hey, you okay?” Immediately upon opening the door, Taehyung spoke the question out into the air, dark eyebrows knit in concern and kind eyes imploring yours for an answer.

“Hi. I’m fine, just a little tired, Tae.” You pressed your lips together in a hopefully believable smile, the man frowning before nodding at you.

“Me too. Can I come in?” He asked, the question completely innocent however making your heart rate a bit faster at the what if. What if things had gone differently? What if it was still a possibility for things to escalate between you two?

Cut it out. He’s about to be a married man.

You raised your eyebrows at him for a moment, then stepped back to allow him in, putting all your concentration on shutting the wood for a moment as you took a steadying breath.

“What about your party?” You wondered aloud, the man humming as he took a seat on your fully made bed.

“I’m tired of the parties. They’re exhausting.” He chuckled, covering his face with his hands as he reclined back on your bed.

Your heart skipped another beat at the vision, his tight pants leaving little to the imagination and buttons from his dress shirt stretched to new limits with his strained position. Diverting your eyes, you walked over to the desk chair in the corner of your room, reaching for a water bottle out of your mini fridge. Get a fucking grip.

Tossing one over to the bed beside Taehyung, you sat down in the plush seat, grateful that the man didn’t seem to notice your distance from him as you glanced out the window.

Until….

“Are you really okay? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

At his sudden words, you froze, gripping your water a bit tighter as you brought your eyes back to his face. He was closer now than before, having scooted to the edge of your bed to lean toward you, eyes showing concern for you as you shuffled in your seat.

Taehyung was never one to beat around the bush, and at times like this, you really wish he would just brush some things under the rug as easy as you could.

“I’m good, Tae. Just have a lot going on, I guess. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.” You said, hoping to clear the air and dismiss the topic as soon as you possibly could. The man’s stare wasn’t helping your state any.

“No apologies. Just wanted to check in on you.” He sighed, seemingly disappointed with your lack of response before a hideous painting across the room caught his eye.

“What the fuck is that?” He griped, making you chuckle as he sat up to lean toward the art piece, squinting with his lip curled in amusement.

“It’s not so bad.” You shrugged, smirking when he turned back to you in bewilderment. Realizing you were teasing him, his eyes went back to normal size, a smile meeting his own lips at the return of your familiar banter.

“How can you sleep in a room with that shit? I feel like asking for a refund.” He shook his head, making you laugh before taking a swig from your water.

“Somehow I manage.” You replied, twisting the cap back on the bottle with a sigh.

It’s times like these that you feel as though nothing is wrong. Times like these that transport you back to periods of your life when Taehyung was just a call away, and you thought maybe, just maybe, you two had a chance. But that was over now. Those days were no more.

Because Taehyung informing you about a blind date then turned into him in a full blown relationship, a serious one at that, and soon enough they were taking big steps such as meeting the parents, moving in together, and yes, getting engaged.

Your friends had been just as shocked as you were, pitying you with deep sympathetic looks over Taehyungs shoulder as you hugged him in confused congratulations. It had all happened so fast...how did you manage to lose him forever?

Waking up the next day, you felt a particular heaviness on your chest. It was the day before the wedding, the rehearsal dinner turned into an entire day of partying for their guests. A celebratory day, if anything.

But waking up and getting all dolled up for this occasion was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, today or ever. You had always thought that you’d have much more of a starring role in Kim Taehyung’s life. Shaking your head to dismiss those kinds of thoughts, you cursed as you left your hotel room, wondering how the hell you’d be getting through this day.

Four martinis. Four martinis was how you’d be getting through today. The bartender had become one of your closest acquaintances over the past few hours, eyeballing you silently as he poured you yet another cocktail, your demands obvious that you were not drinking out of celebration.

Sitting at the bar, you contemplated everything. From the time you’d met Tae, you had been so sure that you two completed each other. Were you that naive? And fuck, why are you still thinking about this now? It’s over. You and Tae will never be.

Nearly jumping off your stool at a hand suddenly clapping your back, you shifted your gaze over to the arm belonging to Jungkook, one of Taehyung’s youngest yet wisest friends.

“You’re sulking.” He said plainly, dark eyes tracing over your faded features, briefly examining the drink in your hand before shooting the bartender a knowing look.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” You sighed, nearly breaking into a sob when his hand laid over yours, fingers fitting between your own in a comforting gesture. With one glance at the man, you gained all the information you didn’t want.

He knew.

You wondered how long he’d known. Jungkook, being the quiet and relatively introverted person he was, was an observer. He knew everything about everyone it seemed, by not speaking to them at all. He noticed everything.

You just hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes started blinking rapidly, and that he’d instead just go back into the party without another word.

“Neither should you.” He replied to you, his tone holding nothing but concern as he tried to catch your eyes.

You just couldn’t hold it in.

“Well maybe if I wasn’t in love with him I’d be having a better time.” You mumbled, leaning your head down on your hands, elbows pressed to the tops of your thighs, sad and tired as Jungkook froze beside you.

Unbeknownst to you, a concerned Taehyung had also come to find you, stumbling upon that very scene as Jungkook tried to console you.

Meeting eyes with his older friend, Jungkook’s mouth gaped open for a moment, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you cluelessly rambled under your breath about how stupid you were to ever let yourself come here.

With a shaky exhale, Taehyung silently began to put it all together. The way you’d been working constantly lately, picking up every shift you could to decline his repeated attempts at getting together with you, the way you’d ran off last night and brushed it off as you being too tired. It was all adding up.

You were struggling with this as much as he was. Maybe more.

But what Taehyung could do about this years ago was no longer an option, his hands shaking at his sides as he spun on his heel and walked out of the lobby. He could briefly hear Jungkook call for him but ignored it, breathing heavily as he rounded one of the hallways leading to the restrooms.

Unshed tears misted over his eyes as he hugged a corner of the wall, feeling rather unsteady as he leaned his forehead against the cool surface. The burning pain in his chest had him sinking down to the floor in an instant, sobs wracking his shoulders with heightening emotions rising in his throat.

You’d finally given him the green light. And it was too fucking late.