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#I for one would probably *not* hate half the characters if you just let them exist as they are
katyspersonal · 1 day
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God, not to be one of those "hateful anons" but you really need to drop the "holier than thou" type thing on all of your lore posts. As much as I'd love to debunk why half your arguements are overused and don't work, I'll save that because that's not my point.
On almost all of your lore posts you mention at least once how "people aren't ready for stories of this level" or some shit along those lines, and let me ask you this: Why do you think people like you can digest these stories better? You would probably answer something like "Because I can understand these stories unlike these stupid from haters" or something.
You aren't digesting these stories better then anyone else just because you spend 1000 hours looking into what Morgott's moldy toe item description mentions. Like seriously, all this complaining about why the fandom sucks yet youre just like all those "holier than thou" people in the fandom who keep mentioning how THEIR perspective is better then someone else's.
You also keep acting like personal interpretation doesn't exist on some note. Saying how [X] is actually what happened and that people are denying [X].
I looked into your blog because I thought some of your posts were interesting, but it turns out youre literally just like all the other fromsoftware fans you complain so much about. Hopefully this gives you some perspective, I guess.
Nah, it "didn't give me the perspective", because you are the one seriously misunderstanding here. I say that we as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories SPECIFICALLY to criticize fandom behavior.
We as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories because there are people who claim that "Miquella's character was assassinated by bad writing because in the base game he was hyped up to be kind and compassionate", when his arc was a fall from grace. How falling from grace equals writing him to never have had that grace to begin with? We as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories because whenever Fromsoft does not directly state something, fandom splits into two hostile groups each accusing another of media illiteracy or even various -isms and -phobias. (I advice you to ask Gehrman fans from Bloodborne fandom for extra insight on this one) We as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories because when they DO state something directly, the "cool kids" of the fandom decide it was either a bad writing or that they know better, and start to side-eye everyone who prefers canon over their """improved""" fanon. We as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories because Miyazaki's brand of moral ambiguity, admission that there is no clear solution to world's problems and questioning the nature of humanity itself OFTEN falls on the deaf ears.
Like... you do realize that I still consider myself part of the fandom, despite not engaging beyond what is on my feed? That I do not claim that /I/ am ready for Miyazaki's writer genius? Just like everyone else, I can only do my best to TRY to understand him! Nonetheless, I am trying my best to be mature, and encourage maturity in others. It is hard to remain always calm and nice in a fandom that feels like a battlefield, everyone will get a bit rude! The point is to TRY to be better, which most people don't see the need for! I am calling out fandoms bad behavior and refusal to look deeper into story and characters than their habits and preferences, especially because these preferences often lead to conflicts and toxicity, not claiming moral superiority over my headcanons!
Personal interpretations are fair. What is NOT fair is when someone harps on a very well-researched post with easily debunked arguements, basically doing the "your post is nonsense because in my fanfic things are different" on them, and then another person that did not even read the post nor actually researched the lore beyond their preferences passionately agrees.
I'll have you know that I never spent "1000 hours on analyzing". I am autistic, you goddamn coward. I understand some obscure detail in a flash by just looking, or suddenly come up with an insight while busy at work. Sometimes I literally dream a theory or observation! I do not understand where the misconception that everyone needs to spend a lot of time to be hyper-observant about their special interest comes from. However, you believing that about me makes your claim even worse. You seriously just said that analysis of someone who.... well, analysed the lore, is not as valid as analysis of someone who just took scraps of lore they personally enjoyed to create their own thing. How does this make sense, exactly? Again: you'd have SOME point if you spoke against a stuck-up Reddittuber who makes it their daily mission to ruin someone's joy if their headcanon is not 100% accurate to the source, however, so far the inverse has been happening. People who decided something about lore just because it appealed to THEM will go and be rude to people who are trying to be objective. Not only this; I've had my headcanons (!) "corrected" multiple times because they were different from popular fanon!
.........speaking of certain people who think it is okay to harp on someone's lore post to downplay it when they are not even lorediggers themselves.... -_-
The way you glazed through my blog and jumped into an extremely inaccurate conclusion about my personality and attitude reminded me of the same impulsivity when someone took "stop treating Marika as noble hero against Hornsent evil, here are bad things that happened during her reign" as as "just another poorly researched Marika hate 🥺". 🙃 Your obvious vitriol for thorough lore research, your poorly disguised manipulation (you clearly did not think my posts were "interesting" with how much disdain you just expressed FOR them, but you wanted to wound me by faking "disappointment"), and above all, timing. My tone in yesterday's Marika and the fandom rant was in no, NO way different from how I usually speak in my blog! My mutuals (all 8 of them lol) can confirm! Yet I've never received (inaccurate) anon hate for this.. until now. Until recent very unfortunate encounter with extremely shallow individuals that started a debate yet refused to finish it when hypocrisy of the both was pointed out. 🌛
I think I know who you are. :/ 🤔 I'll keep that in mind, and being "prepared" will definitely lessen the effect if you try anything of the sort again, be sure of this.
(At the same time, IF I am wrong and you are just a fan that found me through that interaction, I'll have you know that your lowly cowardice by using anon instead of showing your face has put someone else under suspicion, and it will remain so unless you show yourself. In which case, hope you are proud of yourself. 🤦‍♂️)
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sirendeepity · 8 months
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Funny how SJM has to kick some of her own characters down to make it seem like the ic mc is shining. My darling dear, the bar is literally in hell, and you digging a hole to shove people into to make them appear "lower" than your personal faves is not going to change that, sorry (not sorry)
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I finally saw the mean girls musical (the movie one) I have so many fucking thoughts oh my god
#thoughts#oni talks#mean girls 2024#I think I may be the only person to kind of like it? like don’t get me wrong it is kinda ROUGH but it has so much potential and there’s bits#and pieces that I actually really enjoy or wish they had more of or just aahh#I’ve been nonstop thinking about the ideal version in my head like there’s so much potential obviously I’m biased by like a lot#since for one I know I tend to like stuff other people hate or don’t like but for two this sequel was weirdly way more relatable so maybe#I’m just projecting from my own personal experiences but Idc the POTENTIAL THERES SO MUCH ID WANNA DO INSTEAD#like there’s so many little details and characterizations that I wish was expanded on or fleshed out and it’s just like it feels like either#half baked or that it’s gone through too many edits it’s like it’s scared to exist?? like there’s some differences I love and wish they lol#leaned into but it’s like it was terrified to be too different? or like they were rushing the end especially#like in my ideal form it’s a tv show coz I think they honestly have enough that could be genuinely expanded in a way more interesting way#via that format probably not like a super extended series like you COULD but you’d definitely need more expansion but I could see the potent#but like idk one SOLID musical season with expanded character story and not like one of those rush cram shows like a good solid one#like Regina’s characterization is so fascinating but also feels like slightly off and like they could’ve leaned way more into things?#like I think keeping Regina as a closeted lesbian gives the greatest potential and interest for an expanded story#like I loved maybe the first half of the movie the most like that one song she sang to manipulate Aaron would work so much more perfectly if#she’s singing it about/to Cady? I also think in my ideal brain an cool flashback episode for Janis and Regina would be so cool coz there’s#so much you could flesh out in a flashback than you could in a retelling which while I do like the retelling since it lets you imagine thing#I just! potential! I also want more of them interacting and I do think changing Janis to be a lesbian works if they leaned more into it?#I also think in my ideal form janis would have more comeuppance or acknowledgement of her shit? I also think an arc of Regina coming out#like one thing they missed from the original is Regina playing soccer at the end & I think they could hint more towards that and maybe lean#more into her at home life in an expanded story way coz her mom is clearly like… yikes. granted maybe some of my views on the movie are too#biased by personal experience but like the way she snaps at her mom usually in my experience isn’t out of nowhere? like parents behind#closed doors. or frustrations with what her mom has clearly been putting on her the way she tells her mom not to talk about her body is very#like idk a lot of the characters in this version feel more real to me bc they act really similar to people I know irl so the expanded story#could be cool. another one that in my ideal brain would have more is Gretchen and especially her relationships with Regina as well as with#that one guy and her parents I wanna see more of how that works and her arc to feel more meaningful when she dumps him & mentions family#also as much as I didn’t care much for the straight plot stuff there’s 100% missed potential there that I could see in the differences like#iirc in the original it’s regular algebra not AP calc which I think could’ve been used as an interesting characterization opportunity for
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dbphantom · 2 years
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"all the people who like Charlotte didn't watch the show and are misogynists"
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Can't believe I just had to see this take with my own eyes but that's what I get for following the main tags instead of my trusted mutuals
#Cruddy rambles#Listen. Yeah. She got hit with the villain beam in the latter half. But honestly? Valid of her#They treated her like shit the entire first half of the season#Lewis included. She was constantly pushed aside and treated like crap by Cleo who *BROKE UP* WITH THE GUY CHARLOTTE HAD A CRUSH ON#Lewis constantly ditched her. The girls hurt not only her BUT TARGETED HER MOM DURING A WORK EVENT#Yeah honestly she went too far in the latter half of the season but she doesn't deserve the hate she gets#And she didn't deserve what the writers did to her#Remember how she *specifically* asks Cleo if she can spend time with Lewis and Cleo goes 'yeah no problem'#And even after getting her powers and probably realizing what they did to her and her mom she STILL tries to be friends with them#And is treated like absolute shit#'she's so reckless she's using her powers in public' HELLO?????? YOU DO THAT EVERY EPISODE???#You guys almost got Lewis arrested because he had the gall to- let me check- accidentally get the job CLEO GOT HERSELF FIRED FROM#But no *Charlotte* is the one who deserves all the hate in season 2 right /s#Yeah sorry I hated her when I was like 7 because I was SEVEN. And then I got older and realized how horribly she was treated#And how horribly the writers took her character and shoved it into the role of a villain#Her character genuinely did not deserve what she got handed but honestly. She deserved a little vengeance. Seriously.#After what they did to her mom... I would be fucking pissed too. After how Cleo was nasty to her after BEING GIVEN A GIFT. I would've never#Forgiven her. Charlotte was so much nicer than she could've been and she was STILL pushed out of the group#She even took Cleo aside to apologize and ask for permission to go after Lewis WHICH CLEO GAVE. And then STILL treated Charlotte like garbo#Sorry I just. Wow. It's what I get for following the main tags I guess but. Wow.#Like yeah sure hate on Charlotte for doing what the girls have been doing for an entire season and a half but openly#I guarantee if the girls did the exact same things Charlotte did it would've been framed in a Girl Power light and you would've ate it up#Locking Charlotte in a flooded room? Haha Cleo and Emma giggle to themselves while they walk away and music plays. Hashtag girl power.#All the times Cleo uses her powers to dunk on Kim I don't hear anyone talking about.#It's only ever when Charlotte does it. Because the show frames it as being bad.#Use your heads guys. Come on.#Yeah she messed up a few times. But so do the girls??? And they're constantly forgiven. Charlotte is never given that opportunity. And why?#Because they needed a villain. that's why. That's the only reason why.#She's held to this standard that nobody else in the show is.#You want a good villain to hate? Hate Dr. Denman. Hate Sophie even. But Charlotte? She didn't deserve any of that.
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becomingmina · 10 months
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FUCKBOY MIN. little series w/ LEEKNOW
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18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing: lee minho x female reader genre + warnings: previous fkbuddy relationship, angst, smut mdni!, min is mean, oral (f recieving), semi-public (empty bathroom), hyunjin is a character wc: 3.4k mina's note: Minho is kinda mean. The way I would have done anything for him just so he can like me back. ❤️‍🩹
other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.
series chapter ➵ part two, part three ending one
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"Isn't that Y/N?" Han asked looking over the older boy's shoulder.
Minho turns his head around and sees you amongst the crowd - of the very grand party he dreads. He feels himself tense up at the sight of you, he hasn’t seen you in a while and you looked as beautiful as ever. He can feel the corner of his lip turn up as he replays memories of him and you, and that’s when he realises he misses you.
But the feeling soon fades when he notices you’re with a guy. Only a month and you already found yourself a guy? Loud sweet giggles falls from your lips as you grip the man's biceps, laughing about nothings. He scoffs to himself as he recognises the man.
“Out of all the boys in this fucking city, she chose fucking Hwang Hyunjin?” Minho blurted, he was mad. “She’s got a type. Fuckboys,” he turns back around to Han and raises his brows, as if asking for him to agree with the statement.
“You’re not going to do anything right hyung?” Han nervously asked, knowing his hyung will definitely be doing something.
“She just looks too happy, Han. I gotta ruin it for her. Especially when it’s Hwang Hyunjin she’s fucking with,” Minho says before downing the rest of his drink and ditching the younger boy.
Minho met you a couple months ago at one of his mother’s grand get-together. He only came to these events in hopes to find a hook up or a quick fuck, he was never here to support his mom on what ever event-job-work-promotion she got herself into. He probably got with half of the girls who attended these parties with their rich parents.
“Imagine what your daddy would think of his sweet innocent daughter completely coming vulnerable underneath some guy she just met?” Minho would often whisper in their ears as he thrusts into them. He would say anything to get them to sleep with him then ghost them the next day, leaving them restless.
However you weren’t like any of these girls to him, well at first. Minho was addicted to you, he couldn’t put his finger on it but he kept coming back to you. After seeing you a few times, he proposed for you both to be fwb and you agreed, because to be very honest, Minho was hot and he was a great fuck, the best if you can say. Also, something about him felt very secure to you. Meaningless fucks turned into lingering kisses, then turned into secrets date nights. You both shared such gentle and heartfelt moments, like cooking dinner together to holding hands randomly. Minho became so romantic with you secretly, but he never sincerely voiced it. You fell for him. You wanted to do anything for him in hopes that he liked you back. You became obsessive, got restless, jealous that there was many other girls hovering around him. You wanted him to yourself, and it got to the point where you had pull him away one night, letting your tears run down your face as you admitted your feelings to him, intoxicated. And maybe because he never dealt with such heavy feelings and high emotions like this before that, he turned on you.
“Y/N, you're just like the other girls.. Maybe worse. Easy. Clingy. I would never like you back.. Are you crazy?" You couldn't believe it, he abandoned you. Minho ended up treating you just like all the other girls.
Now the other half of the girls that Minho didn’t hooked up with were probably sorted by Hwang Hyunjin. The city’s heartbreaker. Classic story of two best friends that now hates each other. Minho and Hyunjin grew up together, basically brothers due to their mother’s close friendship. But when the boys got older they grew apart. Times that was supposed be spent together catching up on a tv show or playing basketball turned into time spent with a girl trying to get her to undress underneath them. It was now a competition to see who played the most girls. Oh how toxic.
So when Minho saw you in the ballroom with Hyunjin, he assumed you two were sleeping together. Minho needed to get you alone before the end of the night.
He needed to ruin you, in order to ruin it for Hyunjin aswell.
“Should I get you another drink?” The long haired boy asked realising the glass in your hand was almost empty.
“I was actually eyeing the orange slices over there-” you pointed out, gesturing to the massive grazing table.
“-Mimosa?” He was quick to respond, tone so sweet and cheeky.
“You know me too well Hyunjin,” you smiled admiringly up at the boy.
“I’ll get the champagne, you get the oranges and we meet back here then,” he says, hints of his dorky smile showing.
You were finally alone.
"Hey baby," Minho speaks from behind you, his voice so deep, hands find their way to your hips sending chills down your spine. He used to call you that all the time, and your heart never fails to beat out of your chest from it.
Lee Minho. Why the hell was he behind you? Shouldn’t he breaking some poor innocent girl’s heart?
“I missed you.” You stood still at his words, unable to move.
No not this again.
"Minho, go away," you finally spoke, building up a wall that you know isn’t going to stay up.
"No. I need to talk to you baby. I missed you," he made sure you heard him, his hands now made its way higher to your waist. "You look so pretty tonight..” one hand rests on your waist as the other one slowly travels to your thigh. “I missed your pretty little body so much, baby,” his lips were so close to your face, the proximity is so familiar, so safe that you wanted to turn and press your lips on his. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Minho had you under his spell, his presence was all it took for you to consider him again. You lean back, head taking its place on his shoulder as your back pressed on his chest. You tilt your head up slowly, finally looking at him. Oh, he was so beautiful as ever. His cute little bunny teeth showing from his agape mouth, his pretty sparkly eyes looking down at you, and his sharp nose, which you remember you use to peck so much. You missed him so much, you couldn’t resist it anymore.
“Min.” You say in the most vulnerable tone ever, gripping his forearm, giving in to him. He smiles at the nickname, the nickname only you were allowed to call him by.
"Come with me," and with that he yanked your arm dragging you through the crowd, for sure going to leave Hyunjin confused when he comes back.
Minho pulled you into an empty bathroom and pressed you against the door after locking it, instantly smashing his lips on to yours. His lips feels so soft against yours and your body hasn’t felt this rush of adrenaline in a while that you were going insane. Already feeling yourself start to go wet, you were so bothered, you needed more. Your teeth clashes as he practically devours you, his hand hoists one of your leg over his hip.
“Need you on the counter, bunny,” he murmured in between the kisses, there goes the nicknames again. He carries you to the counter, helping you up, your legs immediately spreading for him to slot himself in between. His hand slips underneath your dress, brushing against your clothed core.
“Already so wet for me,” he smirks, feeling the patch on your panties. “Can I?” He asked tapping his finger twice on your core. You nodded throwing your head back and he accepts the invitation to suck on your neck, leaving marks. Minho’s fingers pulls your panties to the side, his pointer finger finally runs through your folds. You were so warm, so sticky already that Minho let out a moan into your neck, unable to control the pleasure he was also having. You jolted forward when his fingers finally entered you pumping you slowly, causing him to let out an airy scoff. “Need to taste, let me taste?” You nod again knowing every time Minho ate you out, he would reward you with his dick for being such a good girl. You wanted that again.
“Need to hear you say it, Y/N,” he stops his movements, to brush your hair out of your face adoring your features.
Verbal consent has always been a big thing to Minho. He has so much control when the other person expresses what they want. It feeds into his already massive ego seeing the other person submit to him, makes him feel like he was in winning. And right there and then when he asked that question he wanted you to submit, so he can feel bigger than Hyunjin.
“Yes, please Min. I want it,” you gave him exactly what he wanted. You missed this. You missed his body and how he fucked you, how he made love to you. You miss Minho. You miss how sweet and gentle he was. How he would text you if you got home okay after spending the entire day with him. How innocent and lovely he can be talking about his cats, his hobbies. You wanted him to like you back, to want you back that you were willing to let him do anything to you, to use you.
“You’re still so good baby,” he buttered you up pressing a kiss your lips once more, letting it linger on a bit before dropping to his knees. He bundles your thin long dress around your waist, pulling down your soaked panties and burying them deep in his pocket. He is met with your pretty pussy, glistening with arousal. Your scent takes him by surprise and he goes numb. Oh, how he remembers it all so well, he would spend forever in between your legs on a Sunday afternoon. He parts your thighs and moves his face closer to your cunt, finally sliding his tongue in your slit. You still taste as sweet as ever too and that was all it took for Minho to devour you, to eat you out like a starved man. You lean back on one hand and the other one finds its place in Minho’s hair keeping it there. He was so good with his tongue, alternating between giving fat stripes, kitten licks and harsh sucks on your clit. Minho was getting you closer to your orgasm. Moans and whimpers falls from your lips as you allow him to hear how good he is making you feel.
“Feels good baby? You still taste so sweet, I just know you’re still going to be so tight." he removes himself from you just so he can glance up at your fucked out state nodding to every word he was saying.
“Want to- to cum,” you needed to cum, you were on the verge of tears feeling the tension in your stomach start to fade..
“Hm?”
“Please, I want to cum Min,” you restates and he dives back down. He grips your thighs as he makes out with your pussy, his nose hitting your clit every now and then to get you going again. Minho picks up his pace, moving his kisses to your clit where he then sucks harshly earning a sharp moan from you. You jolt forward, thighs closing around him, throwing your head back as you spray Minho with your sweet release. You feel him smirk against your pussy, his mouth and chin coated in your arousal. That wasn’t enough for you, you wanted more. Your hand pushes his head further into your cunt as you grind down in his nose, riding out your high. Minho lets you use him, his tongue still overstimulating you until you were satisfied. Frankly, he found it hot how after just one taste you go feral for him.
He licks his lips cleaning himself off as he gets up from your legs, helping you pull down your dress. He cages you between his hands that are now resting on the counter, you don’t move. Just staring up at him, he examines your features again, taking all everything that he used to adore. Something about this moment just feels so innocent to both of you, that Minho can help but give you small giggles, his lips turning into a smile. You mirror it in return, sitting in silence as you both recalls the old times.
A sudden buzz of your phone causes you both to snap out of the sweet moment, heads turning to the device next to you on the counter. And Minho grows hot, his reputation overshadowed his feelings for you the second he saw Hyunjin’s name pop up. He lets out a scoff, remembering why he got you in this bathroom in the first place.
Minho's leans in slowly, one hand still gripping on the counter but the other comes up close to your face. Your phone forgotten now. You think he's about to kiss you but he dodges your lips, making his way by your ears as he lets out an airy chuckle, he sounded so cocky you were taken by surprise at his sudden change in demeanour.
"God, Y/N. You're still so easy," His tone deep aiming an attack on you as he reaches for the paper towel dispenser behind your head. He pulls out a towel throwing it to you, to clean yourself up. "Still so desperate for me". It broke you. He has never done this to you before, usually he'll be on after care and cleaning up. Your head snaps to his face, taking in his smirk and dark eyes. You swallow hard, a salty taste coat your tongue and you realise you're trying you best to not cry.
“Are you this desperate for Hyunjin too?” you furrowed your brows together in response. What?
“Hmm?” You asked confused.
“You got a type Y/N, you’re so pathetic.” He continues, the vibrating of your phone doesn't help but fuels his anger.
"Min, what do you mean?" It was clear to you that Minho and Hyunjin weren’t the best of friends when you meet with Minho. But that night when Minho abandoned you, Hyunjin witnessed the whole thing. He help you get up, covering you with his his coat, wiping away your tears and took you home.
"What are you doing here with Hwang Hyunjin?" he finally asked. But you don't respond, instead you hop off the counter, unable to control how hurt you are from his previous act. Your eyes sparkle, cheeks pink, lips trembling. He takes in your reaction, making him feel a bit guilty as he has seen this all before. The night you admitted your feelings.
"You guys fucking?" this time his tone and eyes soften, it was like he needed to confirm it first before continuing to take out his anger and tension on you. You reach for your phone but he snatches before you could, declining the call sliding it across the counter where you can’t reach.
"Does he fuck you as good as I do?" He moves in closer, your noses barely touching. "He treats you better than I do?" You stay quiet.
You didn't know what to answer. Do you lie? Do you teel the truth? Regardless at the end of this Minho isn't coming back to you right? You realised the moment he called you pathetic.
He moves in to kiss your cheek, a gentle peck. Your heart starts to race even more, unable to look him in the eyes. One hand comes up to hold your face, thumb rubbing against your cheeks. "Come on baby, tell me and I'll give you what you want," his lips comes in contact with yours. You melt into the kiss, your hands grasping the waist band of his trousers. Snap out of it, Y/N. "Hmm, you going to be good and tell me? He kisses you better than I do?" He kisses you harder, helping you back up the counter. He takes back his initial position, in-between your legs. Minho moves his kisses down your neck as his hands advances to your shoulders, pulling the thin straps down exposing your chest. He gulps at the sight and latching his lips onto your boob, his hand groping the other one. You tired your hardest not to give in but you cant, the feeling is too strong. You whimper at the contact, your hand palming his hard on through his pants. It was the first time you touched him that night and Minho throws his head back, unable to control the sexual frustration.
"Fuck- see what you do to me, baby?" He coos. You undo his belt, pulling his trousers along with his boxer down, meeting with his big cock. He was already so red, a bead of pre cum already spilling frim his tip. You grab the base of his cock, holding it firmly giving him a gentle pump. Just like the way you always did. Fuck Y/N I missed this so much. Minho finds himself addicted again as he shuts his eyes, a little moan slipping from his lip. You continue to pump him and he tries his best not to give into you but your hands felt so good, he could cum like this. You lean forward attaching your lips to his neck, leaving marks just like he did to you before. “Want you Min,” you whimper on his skin. You needed to feel him inside you.
"Answer me first, Y/N." He was getting irritated at your lack of answer. God, why are you so caught up on this Minho! Your phone rings again, the buzzing noises incites his thought, and that was the breaking point for him. Hwang Hyunjin. Only Y/N would want such a pathetic man like him. "I'm not fucking you if you’re dirty Y/N," he says and you halt your movements, completely removed yourself from him.
"What?" You replied. Minho is now faced with your confused face.
"You're so desperate Y/N. I can’t believe you’re with Hyunjin right after I left you? You're so dirty for that,” Minho repeat himself moving closer to you to provoke you, he was sure you had given yourself to the other bloke. Your lack of answer confirmed it for him too. “Did you fuck Hyunjin?" But he was determined to hear it.
You took a deep sigh, and all the names and remarks he had made to you tonight flooded your head. You’re hurt. God, Y/N you are pathetic. You wanted to turn this on him but you couldn’t. Regardless of what you answer, you couldn’t win and Minho won’t be yours.
"No I didn't because I love you, Min," you confessed, pushing him off you. You proceed to pull up your dress and jump off the counter. You needed to leave him.
You brushed past him retrieving your phone and bag, unlocking the door and walking out.
Leaving him the way he left you, abandoned. Although it was your feelings that he disregarded, leaving him while he was hard and sexually unsatisfied like this would have hurt the same for a fuck boy like him.
But Minho wasn’t hurt by that. Your words was the thing that stung him. Shes loves me? No one had ever done this to Minho, he didn't know what to do. Such a similar feeling to how you felt - when he ghosted you and just now.
His words still played in your mind, they're still lingering around you. You wanted to sob, cry your heart out but you couldn't just yet, only allowing the tears to build in your eyes. Did you really just let him treat you like that? You chose pleasure again instead of protecting your already broken heart. Minho was right, you are fucking easy. You see the exit through your blurry vision and you rushed to it, pushing into the many people that was just crowding around. Just as you're about to leave a hand pulls you back.
"Y/n, you okay?" You turned around to meet with Hyunjin, and you couldn't help but burry your face in his chest as you let your tears fall.
"I hate him," you cried loudly, your whole body shaking and your legs go numb. Hyunjin hugs you, both arms wrapped around you tightly as he lets you become completely vulnerable. You were safe with him.
"I know.. Let's go home."
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spongeyspot · 10 months
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Toxic Traits/Red Flags HC
Characters: Arthur, Javier, John, Lenny, Dutch, Micah, Charles, Sean, Hosea, Mary Beth, Abigail, Tilly, Karen, Sadie, Molly
(A/N): WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT THIS DAWG. I LOVED @cowboyfromh3ll 's take on that shit sm and these hcs have literally been swimming in my head for weeeeeeeeks bro
Edit: some of these were kinda hard because there's not a lot of bad in the characters themselves... I had trouble with specifically Charles, Lenny, Mary Beth, and Tilly. Sorry if they may be OOC. IM EVEN DOING THE GIRLS BECAUSE IM IN A SILLY GOOFY MOOD
Content Warning: female reader, jealousy, self hate, narcissism, gaslighting, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, mentions of murder and violence, mentions of infidelity, mentions of sex (Sean, Micah, Sadie kind of) (MINORS DNI)
Not edited btw
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The boys
Arthur Morgan
- Honestly, I feel like Arthur would have this insane, crippling fear of rejection, especially when it comes to dating. - His self hate/deprecation plays a huge part in this, and quite honestly, him and Mary not working out probably also probably contributed to it. - Very emotionally distant. Has a hard time expressing his feelings openly due to that same fear of rejection.🚩 - Bottles shit up until he feels like he's gonna explode 🚩 - His impulse control is almost nonexistent 🚩 - Will resort to saying things that he doesn't even mean. He just says things when he's angry🚩 - Will hate himself even more if he makes you cry - Won't hesitate to run away from camp for a while to cool off. This isn't necessarily a bad thing per se, but he usually takes his time away to overthink the fuck out of everything - Prone to acting violent. (not to someone he cared about, but to other people, absolutely)Also due to his poor impulse control. 🚩
Javier Escuella
- Has a flirty personality, but around women, it just seems to get worse. 🚩 - Tells you you're overreacting if you tell him it bothers you🚩 - Overprotective of you. Always has his eyes on you, and practically orders you to stay in camp where it's safe. - As if you step one foot outside the camp without him, you'll spontaneously drop dead - Jealous asf. Are you laughing at what Bill just said? It wasn't even that funny. Why are you standing so close to him? You should be at least 6 feet away from him, not 5 and a half. 🚩 - Also has a problem with how you dress sometimes. God forbid your shirt is ever low cut. He'd probably ask you to change. 🚩 - And if you get offended or upset, he'll lie and tell you it's because he can't stop staring at your chest, and he'd like to focus of whatever it was he was doing.🚩
John Marston
- Stubborn as all hell. Doesn't listen to anybody for anything.🚩 - Commitment issues up the ass - Says mean things out of anger and sometimes actually means them 🚩 - Won't apologize half the time. He thinks kissing it better actually makes it better 🚩 - Regularly ignores his own bad habits instead of actually facing them 🚩 - Will run away from problems like Arthur, but worse. He'd be gone a really long time.🚩 - Gets annoyed with you if you get angry at him for leaving and staying away for a while. He told you he needed space, didn't he? What else do you need from him?? 🚩 - Ignorantly clueless half the time. Head empty, no thoughts.
Lenny Summers
- Not assertive in the slightest, and usually, respectfully, keeps to himself. -Takes orders without verbal complaints but inside he's annoyed as fuck 🚩 - Even if he hates doing something he'll probably just go "Okay" and do it anyway, and he'll sulk all day afterwards - Refuses to tell you what's wrong because he thinks he'll sound childish.🚩 - If you push the issue, he might snap at you out of annoyance like "Would you just let it be??" - Immediately feels guilty and shameful, and he'll hide away until he's ready to apologize and face you again - Also kind of a know-it-all... He'll correct you a LOT. It would get annoying 🚩 - Would blatantly tell you you're wrong before correcting you🚩 - Not necessarily an asshole about it but he still tends to get under your skin sometimes
Dutch Van Der Linde
- The BIGGEST Narcissist you'll ever meet.🚩 -He loses another piece of his mental state with every breath he takes. Slowly but surely losing his mind.🚩 - King of gaslighting🚩 - How could you even think that about him? He could never do anything wrong! You must be crazy...🚩 - Tries to recite his "pretty words" from Evelyn Miller to try and sound smarter than he actually is 🚩 - Expects you to just feed his ego without him actually doing anything to earn it🚩 - Will try to correct you even when he's wrong🚩 - Refuses to admit he's wrong. He can never be wrong. That word isn't even in his vocabulary unless he's talking about literally anyone but himself🚩
Micah Bell
- Where do I even start with this guy - Not above putting his hands on you if he doesn't get his way. Let's be honest here.🚩 - Mega Narccisist, almost as bad as Dutch 🚩 - Will brag and share every sexual encounter you've ever had with him like he's talking about the weather🚩 - VERY prone to Violence 🚩 - NO impulse control. Murders people for fun.🚩 - Backhanded and borderline abusive compliments 24/7 "You'd look so good if you weren't so fucking fat..." 🚩 - Selfish lover. Thinks just sticking it in will do the trick, and it does, for him at least.🚩 - Little to no affection. What are you? His girlfriend? Wait...🚩 -If he actually does show you affection, and you react in surprise, he'll tell you to go fuck yourself, and that that's the last time he ever does anything nice for you.🚩
Charles Smith
- Impossible to read sometimes - Like Arthur, Charles tends to keep a lot of his emotions bottled up until he feels like he's gonna pop 🚩 - Like most of the men in the Van Der Linde gang, Charles is also prone to acting violently. I mean, he started a bar fight with a fucking chair, and he fights in street fighting rings, let's be real for a second.🚩 - He's incredibly quiet and reserved a lot of the time, and sometimes you just assume that he's listening to you when you talk, but a lot of the time, he's lost in his own thoughts. - Will do everything anyone asks him to at the expense of his own free time and energy, and sometimes he works himself to exhaustion just to try and please everyone.🚩 - In doing so, he sometimes doesn't have time for himself at the end of the day. It also seems like you spend time together less and less as the days go on. - If he ever got himself hurt and you tried to help him, he'd decline any help with anything to save his own pride. The last thing he needs is you thinking he's weak. 🚩 - Extremely Overprotective. Like to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anybody you asked him to🚩
Sean Macguire
- An Alcoholic🚩 - horny 99% of the time, but half that time he probably has whiskey dick. Still asks you to try but doesn't understand that it's like trying to play pool with a rope... - If he can manage to be sober enough to actually get it up, and you're not in the mood, he'd get pissy and annoyed with you for "wasting his boner" 🚩 - Will probably also brag about having sex with you to everyone🚩 - Needy as all hell - Bro sulks on purpose - Low key loves the attention you give him when you continue to ask him what's wrong, but he never actually tells you and constantly says "I'm fine..." or "It's nothing..." 🚩 - But then sighs dramatically and continues sulking and dragging his feet so you keep giving him more attention 🚩
Hosea Matthews
- Ignores his physical health until he's practically dying. You've told him to get that cough looked at for literal years and he just says "I will" and does nothing 🚩 - sometimes talks to you as if you're a child especially if he's around Dutch -low key gaslights you sometimes 🚩 - and he says it with such a gentle tone, its hard to catch it 🚩
The girls
Mary Beth Gaskill
- Daydreams way too much - Likes to live in her romance novel fantasy land rather than face reality 🚩 - Cries a lot - Tries to be angry but can't help but cry instead - If crying makes you feel bad for her, she'll probably do it on purpose so you comfort her and give her attention🚩 -If you're in a fight, she'll turn on the crocodile tears to get you to stop being angry with her or whatever it is you're arguing about.🚩
Abigail Roberts
- She can be verbally abusive if she's pushed far enough 🚩 - Holds in a lot of her emotions🚩 - Neglectful of her own personal needs to make sure you or Jack are fully provided or cared for🚩 - a lot of the time, when she's upset with you, you're probably given the cold shoulder and the silent treatment - incredibly protective. Not necessarily a bad thing, but she can sometimes be super overbearing.
Tilly Jackson
- Tells it how she sees it, sometimes accidentally sounding a lot colder than she means to 🚩 - Too sarcastic for her own good 🚩 - Laughs a little too much sometimes when you tell a joke, and you can often tell it's actually incredibly fake🚩 - gets irritated really easily, especially if she's bothered while doing her chores. The last thing she needs is Grimshaw on her ass again.🚩 - irritable a lot of the time, unintentionally becoming short or snapping at you - like john, she also believes that kissing it better is better than actually apologizing
Karen Jones
- An alcoholic 🚩 - picks fights with you for fun, finds it entertaining to see how red your face can get from anger 🚩 - Screaming matches are a regular occurance between you guys, and she starts it almost every time 🚩 - Pretty jealous when it comes to the opposite sex🚩 - Has self doubt and believes that she can't give you everything a man probably could
Sadie Adler
- The nosiest woman in America. No chill. She reads everyone's mail. - Makes a lot of loose threats 🚩 - Anger issues🚩 - Low impulse control🚩 - Can be a little too rough sometimes 🚩 - If she's upset with you, she'll either yell or storm off. Sometimes both. 🚩 -(She tends to walk away a lot more often because she's actuall self aware that her anger issues are a problem) - She'd never admit that to you though.
Molly O'Shea
- Even more jealous than Javier🚩 - Glares at and envies anyone you talk to that isn't her🚩 - Has immaginary conversations with people in her head🚩 - Rubbing her hands together when the real life conversations are following the script she had planned out in her brain - Needs constant reassurance - "D'you even love me anymore?!"🚩 - Overthinks everything 🚩 - Paranoid as hell about infidelity - Gets mad at you when she dreams about you cheating on her🚩
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SOCIAL BATTERIES
Do the boys REALLY like people that much?
Character studies.
Going from the most Extroverted to the least.
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- 🟠 -
Mikey is THE definition of an extrovert
Suprise, suprise.
I keep thinking about him making fun of Casey constantly, and his fist bump with Vern, or him working the crowd on Halloween. And his eye rolls at Raph and Leo
Can be annoying af and play dumb, but half the time he knows way more than he let's on. And it's SUPER hard to get him angry.
Would be in a fraternity tbh. And like, seven sport teams.
The world is a lesser place with him cooped up away from it.
He's a HUGE teaser and talker. Loves to flirt and prank and play the vibes.
He's a NATRUAL at it
Give him ONE conversation. ONE chance, and he can get literally anyone out of their shell.
Loves having April or Casey or Vern around. Loves teasing them or harassing them tbh.
The bigger his social circle, the better his life.
Is usually a HUGE buffer between humans and his grumpy, tired brothers.
He would be the LIFE of the party. Would be an excellent host of an event, because he'd be everywhere talking to everyone. Remembering everyone by name and face, introducing people to one another, so on and so forth.
He would have multiple friend groups everywhere he goes, with all sorts of different types of people.
Out of his brothers, I see Mikey having the body count tbh
Also probably jumped into a relationship too soon and got hurt early on. He'll be way more ready for the next one.
He has SO MUCH TEXTING TO DO.
His favorite is snap chat.
The BEST out of all his brothers at reading social cues and body language. By FAR.
Can find something to talk about with ANYONE
He's been wishing to socialize his WHOLE LIFE. So he DO!
Probably the only one that can confront and process trauma in a healthy manner.
Not at all afraid of deeper, more meaningful conversations.
Often finds himself the one initiating deep conversations with people who need it the most (his brothers).
He knows there is a time and place for problem solving. And sometimes you just gotta sit with your feels.
Something his brothers STRUGGLE WITH
- 🟣 -
Donatello might not be EXTROVERTED but he is outgoing.
Second to Mikey, everyone in his family has a close relationship with Donnie.
Super caring and fun and inquisitive with everyone he meets.
He'll be down for ANYTHING. Sports, games, cooking, drives, crafts, working out, adventures or pranks or geeky movie nights.
He might not always be good at INICIATING these with strangers but he loves going along with stuff.
Loves showing people his projects and stuff and letting people use them or have them.
Will be there for his friends the instant they ask.
At a party he'd be in another room having a conversation with two or three people.
But I also see him hanging around girls a little more than guys. Finds the girlies to be easier company than guys.
He's been on discord for YEARS. He had human friends before even Mikey did.
But.
He's HYPERVIGALANT of the vibe
Extreme empath.
He does NOT like confrontation.
A HUGE people pleaser.
Feels he's stepping on eggshells around his loved ones and friends. In an effort to keep them happy.
He's a sensitive guy.
If he's told to shut up or be quiet, especially if he's excited or talking outloud- he's modified. He WILL shut up. For a while.
His brothers know this. While they get exasperated sometimes, they rarely interrupt him.
Does NOT like gossip. Don't gossip with him, he hates it
Makes him feel gross and mean.
Hates when people are upset or sad in any way.
When vibes get rough he does not cope well. Often chooses to avoid or straight up leave.
When things get heated he gets overstimulated quickly.
If he can't leave, he shuts down. He won't talk and if he does it's very quiet
Doesn't know how to help or address emotional things either. He prefers to let it go and just move on, leaving stuff unaddressed.
He's an outgoing and pleasant guy, but he definitely doesn't mix with everyone.
- 🔴 -
Meeting Raphael is a terrifying experience.
Because he talks and looks at you like he hates you already.
But he doesn't hate people.
He just sucks at them.
Raph wants a normal life just as badly as Mikey does.
Raphs love language is harassment???
He shows his love by annoying his loved ones. Or through teasing and banter. Or wrestling his bros to the ground or pull them into rough hugs.
However
When he meets new people he isn't there to make FRIENDS.
He's there to let you know that if you bullshit with his family you're gonna get whooped.
So he will posture and glare and tower and maybe even roll his neck or crack knuckles to anyone.
Literally anyone.
Remember how rude he was to April?
So when he can't do any of that- no banter, no pranks, no wrestling and no INTIMIDATING-
He is COMPLETELY at everyone's mercy
Put him in a group of girls, or take him to a party or a bar. ANYTHING out of his comfort zone.
He's very awkward.
Only because he's kinda quiet
And honestly SUPER shy.
Wants to be liked SUPER badly.
He doesn't know how to make friends. At all
Flirt with Raph. I dare you.
You'd terrify him
Is the type of guy at a party to stick to the side of someone he knows and never. Leave. It.
But he finds out he gets along with blue collar guys the most.
And Raph has this super power
He can detect if you're a good or bad character super quickly. Much quicker than everyone else in his family. Like, one conversation in.
Not that he really believes himself. He thinks everyone's out to get him. or his family
If he's not making fun of you, you know he doesn't like you.
Is the type of guy to have quality over quantity relationships.
Hates texting. Honestly hates social media and technology beyond like...insta reels or something. He doesn't like sitting on his phone or video games all the much. Half because he breaks things easily or gets easily frustrated at leaning how to work it.
Rather be doing something active or working on a car or build something or carve stuff.
Might not be as outgoing as Donnie or Mikey, but if people manage to ACTIALLY get him to do something fun, he is ALL IN and having a BLAST.
The kinda guy to crash at his friends house and just chill.
He recharges when he's in proximity of his loved ones. Not always SOCIALIZING but having his people close.
-🔵-
Our REAL introvert
He struggles to socialize even with his BROTHERS
Who are the only people in the world he allows himself to be even semi relaxed around
A conversation with anyone other than his dad and brothers is the opposite of a relaxing/easy activity.
He's honorable, polite, and formal.
But Leo is and EXTREMLY cold character.
Sometimes even a bit cruel and scary to strangers.
Has a weird habit of wrapping his arm kindly around someone he's about to hurt
Struggles to see even April as more than an 'asset' or 'person dad holds dear'
Doesn't see Vern as a friend. Doesn't see Casey as a friend.
Leo is the only turtle April doesn't have a strong connection to. Not out of lack of trying.
Tolerates social situations only if he falls into a leading (controlling) role.
Doesn't like large groups of people.
Very quiet otherwise.
Struggles to initiate activities with his brothers.
He sucks at it.
He is always receptive to when they reach out to him though
And kinda has a fear of getting turned down. Getting turned down by his brothers makes him sick to his stomach.
Not that he admits it.
He also doesn't handle rejection with any grace. Gets just a LITTLE pushy to make you either feel bad or like he's in charge
His brothers still gotta tolerate him being a little bossy and stuck up and a fun-sucker while they hang out with him. They know he can't help it.
But Leo is super relieved every single time they invite him to do something.
What would Leo be like at a party? Leo never WENT to the party. And if he DID, he'd be outside, trying to soak in the quiet. Listening to the party from out here.
or hug him, or just express somehow they still want him around or like him. Or love him. Because those moments are getting rarer and rarer the older they get.
He's completely alone other than his dad. At least he's thought so his whole life
Would be the one petting the cat. Or dog. Not the type to go LOOKING for it, but if it came to him, he would.
Yes, he texts, but never outside of absolute necessity. Or if his brothers remind him of April's birthday.
He likes to read
Even if Donnie, Mikey and Raph are together in the lair having fun, Leo is often by himself somewhere else.
He recharges alone. He does calligraphy and he sketches SOMETIMES. Little stick figures fighting with space guns or something.
But a lot of what he reads are super geeky stuff. Like star wars novels or manga.
But don't tell anyone.
Splinter is his preferred company. He adores time with his dad. He'll spar and train and talk with his dad often.
Doesn't care about having friends but he wants a girlfriend SUPER badly. More than all three of his brothers combined
Being alone with him sucks if you like to talk. He gives you a LOOK that SCREAMS shut the fuck up.
It takes EXTREMLY specific personalities to get Leo a little soft for them. A quiet person with a good sense of humor.
And the likely hood he'll ever get out to find and meet them is next to none existent.
But hey
Even after like, ALL OF THIS
It's not hard to get Leo to smile
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curawrites · 11 months
Text
Babysitter
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Mike Schmidt x Fem! Babysitter! Reader
Warnings: porn with some plot, kind of pervy Mike, lewd fantasies, cursing, making out, making out, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex.
Note: I’ve just awoken from the worst writers block ever because of this man. I haven’t actually watched the movie tho. 💚
Mike stared intently at the fuzzy security screens. His vision blurred from how hard his eyes were focusing and darting from one screen to another.
He shuts his eyes for a second before reopening them, his vision now clear.
Fuck he hated this job.
He hated the long hours, hated having to work the night shifts, hated having to stare at the stupid screens for hours on end, hated being terrified every night by the stupid animatronics.
He wanted his shift to be over immediately.
When the clock hit 6am he lets out a sigh of relief. His shift was finally over. He got up from his seat and hastily grabbed his things before booking it to his car.
He’s never wanted to leave the dingy pizzeria more. All he could think about was getting home and passing out in his bed.
Abby would be fast asleep by now and you’d probably be passed out on the couch.
He was so thankful to have found such a wonderful babysitter. You clicked soo well with Abby and you put up with his ungodly work hours.
You’re amazing with Abby, always making sure she has fun when you’re over.
Wether it was making a fort in the living room and watching Disney movies together, or drawing all of your’s and Abby’s favourite characters, or baking cookies or even going out to the nearby park, Abby would always tell Mike how much fun she had.
You also have a particular knack in getting her to eat all of her dinner and getting her in bed.
Mike had no idea how you could do it and asked you how you did it. You weren’t exactly sure about how you get her to eat but you told him that to get her to bed on time you made sure to tuck her in with her favourite plushy before reading her a bedtime story and she was out like a light.
Unfortunately, your methods didn’t quite work when he tried them.
Mike wished he was more well off so he could pay you fairly, but he doubts that he could get you to accept any kind of payment.
He had payed you in the beginning, of course, but he got behind on his payments due to some financial difficulties. You eventually found this out and refused any sort of payment from then on.
He’s half convinced that you’re an angel sent from heaven. You’re so understanding towards his situation and after working for him for many months you became an essential person in his and Abby’s life.
It took Mike a long time to admit to himself that he had a strong attachment towards you and even longer to admit that he liked you.
He couldn’t deny or brush off his feelings when after one shift, he found himself thinking about how he couldn’t wait to come home to you.
It startled him, how he could feel this way towards you, but it felt right to admit.
Mike didn’t realize it before but now, everything you do makes his heart flutter and his cheeks redden.
Those sweet playful smiles you flash him when you banter makes his heart skip a beat.
Every time you touch his arm reassuringly, or give him a gentle rub on the back or a hug he always gets goose bumps from just having you so close to him.
He wants to hold you closer, and for longer, just to keep feeling the warmth of your body against him. To feel your soft tits press against his chest.
God did he feel like a pervert, but he just can’t help himself. He finds you so god damn sexy and gorgeous.
His dirty fantasies of you had his cock growing hard in no time. He swears you’re teasing him, especially when you bend over in your tight jeans or shorts.
He can’t help but stare at your ass and imagine himself grabbing your hips and pressing his hard cock against the swell of your ass.
Or when he can see your hard nipples threw your shirt, all he can think about is sucking them until they’re hard and leaving them wet with his spit.
Fuck its was wrong, so so wrong to think of you that way. You’re just Abby’s baby sitter, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from running wild.
Mike took a deep breath as he stopped at a red light. He couldn’t keep having these thoughts about you. Especially not on the road.
He finally makes it home and parks beside your car in the driveway.
He enters his house as quietly as he can and closes the front door with extra care as to not make a ruckus.
“Mike?” You call out from where you’re laying on the couch.
“I’m home, Y/n.” he says quietly as he takes his shoes off.
“How was your shift?” You asked as you sat up and stretched, groaning quietly.
Mike clenches his jaw, the way you groaned sounded so sinful, “Awful. Like usual.” He said plainly and takes his vest off and throws it on a spare chair.
“Are you hungry? There’s Shepard’s pie in the oven for you if you want to eat. I can make you a plate” You offered as you got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.
He stares at you, taking in the tight little grey pj set you’re wearing, before stuttering out, “Th-thanks, you really didn’t have to-“
“Mike. I need to make sure you eat to. Not just Abby.” You said as you grab an oven mit before opening the oven door.
Mike watched as you bent over to grab the dish. He watches your tight grey shorts ride up the swell of your ass, he can see the outline of your pussy as the material stretches over your crotch.
Fuck he was getting hard.
“I’m worried about you, you know..” you sighed as you made him a plate, “I don’t think this job is good for you.” You said as you handed him the plate and a spoon.
He swallows thickly as you come closer to him, “It’s fine- I’m just glad to have a job.”
He grabs his plate and spoon and sits down at the table.
You shook your head before sitting down next to him. “You know I’m here for you okay?” You say while rubbing his back.
“I know.” He nods before taking another spoonful of his food.
“Good.” You smile and stare at him sweetly.
Mike blushes, why do you have to look at him like that?
Your smile turns into a slight smirk upon noticing his blush, “Are you blushing?” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“No-“ he looks at you wide eyed.
You giggle, “Are you embarrassed?”
“No its just-“ his gaze flickers between you and his food.
“Just what, Mikey?” You ask, resting your cheek on your fist.
He could feel his face getting hotter at the nick-name you just uttered, “Your just..” he trails off staring at his food, poking at it with his fork.
You stare at him expectantly.
He really wants to tell you how he feels, but he doesn’t want to ruin your what you have.
He shakes his head, “It’s nothing.. never mind.” He looks away shyly.
“You can tell me.” You rub his arm trying to persuade him to tell you what’s on his mind.
Mike sighs through his nose and shuts his eyes, trying to compose himself, “You should have left when I got here..” he says as he abruptly gets up from his seat.
You watched as he put his dishes in the sink, “Probably, but I need to make sure you’re taken care of.” You stand up.
“There’s no need. I can take care of myself.” He says curtly as he walks past you.
“Mike..” you grab his arm, turning him around. “You’re worrying me.. did I say something wrong?”
He felt his heart clench at the way you were looking at him.
“No you didn’t. It’s just a me problem, Y/n.” He looks off to the side as he shakes his head.
“Are you sure Mike? I’m sorry if I did. I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable-“ You start to ramble.
“Y/n. Hey, hey, hey. Im not mad at you okay?” He says sternly. “I’m just- I have feelings for you okay.” He painfully admits. “And I know it’s wrong but-“
“I have feelings for you too Mike..” You proclaim, a blush decorating your cheeks.
The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before you lean in and kiss his lips.
You pull way quickly, “sorry..” you whisper.
Mike grabs your cheek to pull you into a passionate kiss.
You’re surprised by this. You didn’t expect Mike to go in for another kiss let alone one so desperate, but you kiss him back none the less.
You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer.
The hand on your cheek moves to rest with his other hand on your waist. His thumbs stroked small circles on your skin.
“Mike~” you whisper breathily and press your forehead against his.
He groans at the way you say his name. “Been wanting to do this for so long..~” he muttered before kissing you again.
“Mmm..me too~” You mumble against his lips.
He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before going down to suck and kiss at your neck. He leaves a trail of hickeys all over your neck and collar bones.
You slip your hands under his hoodie, “Mikey?~”
He shivers when your hands touch his bare torso, “Mm~ yes baby?”
“Can we..go to your room?” You manage to ask as Mike starts to get more touchy, his hands just inches from getting under your shirt.
It took a moment for him to process what you had requested and where the two of you were before he replied, “Oh- yeah.. yeah.” He says a bit flustered before picking you up and bringing you to his bedroom.
He lays you down on his plaid comforter and crawls on top of you.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Y/n~” he whispers as he takes you in laying on his bed.
Mike leans down to kiss you again, but more feverishly.
You clawed at his hoodie, trying to take it off as you made out.
“Mike- take it off please~” you pleaded.
He nods and takes his hoodie and the shirt he had underneath off in one swoop, leaving himself topless above you.
You bit your lip as your eyes raked over his bare chest. He looks so sexy panting above you with a lustful look in his eyes.
You squeezed your thighs together to ease the throbbing of your cunt and tangle your hands in his curls to pull him back down for a kiss.
“Baby..~” he mutters as you kept kissing each other, “let me take your top off..~” he asked, holding onto your shirt.
You whined, you didn’t want to stop kissing him. “Mkay~” you nod and put your arms up to help him out.
Mike takes your shirt off with ease and doesn’t waste anytime to grope your tits.
You gasp softly when he kisses the soft mounds and begins to suck on your right nipple.
The way he swirls his tongue around the soft bud made you moan.
You slap your hand over your mouth as he gives the other one the same treatment.
He pulled away from your nipple with a wet pop and kisses you once again.
“Need you Mike~” you mewl, as you grip his shoulder.
“Yeah?~” he said quietly.
You nod and try to push his pants down with you feet.
He pries your legs away from his hips and pulls your gray shorts off.
You let your legs fall open, completely revealing yourself to Mike.
His jaw drops at the sight of your glistening pussy. His cock couldn’t possibly get any harder.
“Fuck..~” he curses, “You have such a pretty pussy~” he licks his lips.
You blush and squirm a bit. You felt so vulnerable under his gaze.
“I need you Mike~” you reiterated desperately.
“I need you too baby.. so so fucking bad-“ he says as he fumbles with his belt.
He hastily takes his pants off and grabs his wallet out on the front pocket.
You watched as he rummaged through his wallet until he pulls out a condom.
He throws his wallet and pants to the side before ripping the foil open.
You quietly fingered yourself as you watched Mike roll the rubber onto his hard cock.
You took your fingers out of your cunt and reached forward to give Mike’s cock a few pumps using your slick as lube.
He groans, “Fuck baby.. that feels good..~” and smashes his lips against yours.
You wrap your arms around his back and your legs around his hips, “C’mon Mike~ I need you inside~” you whispered.
His dick twitched at your words. He lines the head of his cock to your slick entrance and pushes it inside.
“Oh.. fu-..Y/n~” Mike groans.
Your pussy is so warm and wet. It had been so long since he last had sex, he had to stop himself from cumming right away.
“Y/n you feel so good~” he mutters as he began to thrust into you.
You moan and tighten the hold your legs had on his hips, pulling him closer into your warmth.
Mike couldn’t stop himself from whining in pleasure as he thrusted faster into you.
“Gotta be quiet Mikey~” you whispered, pulling him into a kiss to quiet your noises.
He groans into your mouth and busies his hands by toying with your nipples.
“Keep.. doing that please~” you moaned quietly.
The way his thrusts were angled allowed his pubic bone to rut against your clit, and the head of his cock to repeatedly press against your g-spot.
You clawed at his back, trying to hold onto him while bliss over took you.
“Mikey!~ Mike!~ M’gonna cum!” You moan.
“Gonna.. cum too baby..~” he huffs, and reaches down to rub your clit.
“Oh fuck~ m’cumming!” You cry out.
Mike lifts his head out the crook of your neck to look at you while you came.
The mix of your blissed out face and the fluttering of your cunt pushes him to climax.
He moans as he cums, whimpering your name quietly as he fills the condom with his seed.
It takes a while before Mike pushes himself off of you to pull out. You whined in protest, you felt so empty without his cock inside of you.
He takes the condom off and disposes of it in his bathroom.
When he returns, you both get under the covers of his bed, and cuddle in your post-sex bliss.
You’re stroking his messy curls as you’re both falling asleep, when suddenly you’re rudely interrupted by Mike’s alarm.
His alarm to wake up to get Abby ready for school.
The end
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fantazygirl-blog1 · 2 months
Text
So tired of everyone (or almost everyone) making Misa into a kind, weak little victim, manipulated by Light.
That woman may seem sweet, but she's absolutely ruthless. She's selfish, obsessive, stalkerish and emotionally abusive (perhaps not in the traditional way but I will explain)
Way before she even met Light, she managed to kill law enforcement (which might I add, she probably didn't even know was law enforcement) and news reporters just to prove a point. They were just a means to an end to her. She wanted to thank Kira for killing her parent's murderer, but she didn't even stop to think once if the people she killed had families of their own, children of their own. She only had one goal: what she herself, wanted. More than that, Misa literally offered to immediately off her friend, that helped her with the tapes (and if someone offers to help you with that, they're a very close friend for sure) and it wasn't even Light's suggestion. It was all Misa, who saw killing her friend as a way to get Light to trust her. It's clear that girl is willing to kill anyone and anything if it'll help her achieve her goals.
Also, she's super obsessive. My girl traded half her lifespan with no hesitation on the off chance that she might be able to meet Kira. (Yes, she had a plan but there was no guarantee that her plan would even work)And the instant she saw Light, she started stalking him (even though she herself had problems with stalkers) to the point that she just turned up at his house with no warning. Imagine if a stranger just shows up at your house like that, pretending to be a friend and your mom lets them in. That's fucking horrifying.
Also, Misa barely knew Light for like a few seconds and she decided that he was going to be her boyfriend, and NOTHING was going to stay in her way, not even Light himself. She pressured him into being in a relationship with her, even though it was clearly unwanted, Rem literally threatened to kill him if he refused, and then she had the gall to tell Light she would kill any girl she suspected would go out with Light if she saw her with him. This is where the emotional abuse comes from (even though I dunno if I should call it that but I don't know how else to classify it). Misa doesn't really consider Light a person. For her, Light is more like a doll she can project her feelings on. She attributed him emotions according to her whims and acted like those were the reality regardless of Light's real feelings. She made herself the main character in his story, even after told and shown repeatedly tha she wasn't and got mad when years later she was still neglected and barely paid attention to.
I'm not saying all this to hate on Misa and this in no way a Kira appreciation post (my favorite Light is Yotsuba arc Light, I hate Kira tbh) but I'm just saying, if you're a Misa fan you should be able to accept the reality: she's not a weak, sweet little girl, manipulated by evil Light. She's capable of all the horrible things she does all on her own thank you very much and I'm tired of reading fics where Misa is treated like only a victim and given leniency while Light is treated as the only true monster.
I'm just saying, the girl didn't need a boyfriend, she needed a therapist. Badly.
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Come Out and Play 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your mom welcomes an old friend back into her life that brings chaos with him.
Characters: Thor, Loki
Note: Two silverfoxes for the price of one
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖
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Your mother’s singing along to her favourite Donna Summer classic as you come through the front door. She doesn’t hear you as you drop your bag and your boots at the door. You cluck and shake your head as you tiptoe down the hallway and peer into the kitchen. All this just because you’re staying the night? 
You tilt your head and squint at her diligent fingers. She roles the filo around the filling and places each little pocket on a pan. The warmth of the stove radiates through the space and beckons you in. After the frigid chill of your apartment, it’s a relief. 
You waft over to the counter with the smell of baking pastry and chopped peppers. You stand beside your mom quietly and smile at her work. Her arm collides with yours and she looks down at you. She squeals and tosses one of the uncooked hors d’oevres. It sticks to the wall before falling apart. 
“Oh, my!” She puts her hand to her chest and raises her voice, “Alexa, lower volume.” The music recedes and you back up with an apologetic bow. “Hon, I didn’t know you were here. Oh, I hate when you sneak up on me like that.” 
It’s not intentional, more a bad habit. You’re a bit too quiet for your own good sometimes. And hers.  
“Sorry,” you mutter and turn your attention back to the pan, “...lotta food...” 
“Yes, I—I'm so sorry, I didn’t mention. I forgot.” She rambles as she does. Where you’re quiet and reserved, she often talks in streams of nervousness. “When you called, I was so busy and I had so much going on in my head. Sometimes it feels like there’s a hamster in there running on its wheel.” She throws her hands up in emphasis, “anywho, I’m so sorry to hear about the building, did the landlord say when the heat will be fixed?” 
“...dunno,” you shrug and sway. “...the food?” 
“Oh, right, yes! I was saying, dear, I have an old friend coming over. He’s just moved to town and I was so excited to hear from him. We went to college together! I last saw him when I was probably your age. He’s so nice, you know? And we kinda found each other online when I was looking up fake flowers for the new door wreath. I was thinking pinecones would be seasonal but then it occured to me I could get some real ones from the part--” 
“Mom,” you rein her in with a dulcet drone. 
“Ah, my friend, I know! He’s so lovely. You’ll like him. I figure, we can have dinner and some drinks. You’re welcome to join.” 
You nod and peek over skeptically at the bottle of wine, “wouldn’t wanna invade. Should’ve said something.” 
“You know you’re always welcome here,” she reaches for you and you catch her wrists, keeping her sticky hand from touching your cheeks. “Oops!” She giggles and recoils. She turns and rinses her hands off. “Sorry, hon.” 
“I’ll stay out of the way,” you assure her. 
“Don’t be shy. Oh, and make sure you at least get some food.” She flutters around and dries off with a hand towel. “You’ll like him. Thor is super nice! He knew your dad too.” 
You nod and don’t comment on the last part. You never really knew your father yourself. He left when you were young. He didn’t go very far but you see your half-sibling in passing at the mall or even a few times at college. Thankfully, you’re all done with classes. 
“Alright,” you agree. “I’ll put my stuff away.” 
She hums and tells the smart speaker to turn it back up. You leave in the blare of disco music and grab your bag from the entryway. You wish you’d known she was having company. You would have just made do with some extra blankets. 
As if to blow away that thought, the wind whistles and shakes the windows. You go upstairs and put your knapsack on the wooden chair by the narrow desk against the wall. You stretch your arms and yawn as you pace around. Your stomach growls as the aromas in the kitchen follow you up. 
You go back down, hoping to assuage your appetite with some water, and as you get the bottom step, the doorbell chimes. You stop and wait, staring at the door. You mom sings along to Lipps, Inc and you sigh. 
You hop down and shuffle to the door. You pull it open, hiding behind it shyly. The man on the other side searches over your head before he thinks to look down. As you peek around wood, he smiles.
He’s tall. Very tall. And his shoulders are as wide as the large oak in the front yard. His hair shines beneath the light hung beside the door as his eyes sparkle. 
He holds a cone of flowers, the petals bristling in the fall wind, as shadow dims their colour.  
“Hm, I must have the wrong address,” he leans back on his heel and reads the numbers on the siding. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Selina lives?” 
“Here,” you squawk awkwardly. 
“Oh? You’ve shrunk... but you’ve aged well.” He tilts his head but his lips suggest he’s joking. 
“She’s in the kitchen. Wait.” 
You close the door in his face. It’s only as you go to get your mom, that you realise how rude you must have seemed. You didn’t invite him in or introduce yourself. Well, he isn’t here for you, is he? 
You go to the smart speaker and tap the button to pause the music, “he’s here.” 
“Oh!” She squeals and bounces, “already?” 
“Mmhmm,” you nod and back out of her way as she hurries to the door.  
She sweeps through and swings the door open. A gust of wind blows in and you peer around the door frame. The man’s deep voice booms out. 
“Selina! You look just as young as the day we met!” 
“Oh you!” She chirps. “You always were the worst liar.” 
“Mm, I am very honest, Seli,” he rumbles. “And who was that little mouse that was scurrying around? She fled so fast, I did not get a name.” 
“Oh, that’s my daughter,” she explains. “I told you about her. Her radiator broke so she’s here for the night. Always nice to have a full nest!” 
“Of course, of course,” he agrees. “Well, I wish I’d known. I’d have brought two bouquets.” 
“These are so lovely. When did you get so sweet, Thor?” 
“I’ve always been sweet, you were just too distracted to notice,” he retorts. 
She laughs and titters around, “I need a vase. Oh, these are beautiful! Ooh, and a much needed pop of colour. I do hate the winter and it’s coming so fast. Please, come in, come in! You must be freezing.” 
He chuckles, amused by her chatter, “you know I always liked the cold.” 
“Mm, you would. Well, not all of us can bear it. Honey! Oh, there you are,” she pokes her head out from the dining room. “Come, meet my friend.” 
You reluctantly come forward. You fold your hands together and drag your feet. You should’ve stayed upstairs. 
“This is Thor. We both took architecture together!” 
You nod and look at her wide-eyed. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze but you know he’s watching you. You rock and twine your fingers between each other. 
“She just finished her own degree. She took literature! Isn’t that so lovely?” 
“Literature? Ah, my brother was always a fan,” he muses. “I do like some good story telling but I could never pick up much on the symbolism.” 
You slant your lips, “oh, cool.” 
“Anyway, I have some wine, why don’t you have a glass while I finish dinner? Hon, you want some too?” She stops beside you with the cluster of flowers. You shake your head. 
You flit up around the staircase, crowded by Thor as he lurks there, and you quickly flee. You don’t look back as you turn down the hall and barrel into his room. You can’t make out your mother’s words as she speaks but his laughter thunders up after you. 
You hide in your room and harrumph. You don’t know why you’re like this. Even at work, you can’t help but try to blend into the wall. It’s not hard to do in the stock room. 
You take out your laptop and resign yourself to a night of Netflix. You’re a bit disappointed. You were hoping to spend some time with your mom but she deserves a life of your own. For all the years she spent making sure you got this far, she’s earned it. 
You turn the speakers up until they hurt your ears. You can still hear their voices below. The savoury scent of your mother’s cooking rise with their conversation. You didn’t realise how much you missed her dinners until now. Those frozen dinners and fast-food deliveries can’t compare with the real thing. 
You hunker down in bed and try not to think of your growling stomach. You’ll wait to reheat some once that guy leaves. You sink down further and further, basking in the warmth of blasting from the vents. You dread going back to your apartment, even after the heat is fixed. 
Your eyelids begin to itch but before you can drift off, there’s a knock on your door. You get up and open it for your mom. The plate in her hands has your mouth watering as you get another whiff of her handwork. 
“Here ya go, hon,” she holds it out. “I’m sorry it’s a full house.” 
“It’s okay. Didn’t have to.” 
“You need to eat,” she insists. You take the plate. “We’ll try to be quiet. You know he’s so loud. He always has been. He makes me seem tame, doesn’t he?” 
You smile at her yapping. She’s so vibrant and chatty. You never could be even when you try. You envy how bright she can be. You feel so dull next to her. Sometimes you feel like you’ve disappointed her. 
“Thanks," you murmur.
“No problem! Love you.” 
“Love you too.” 
You wait for her to go before you close the door. You might not have a dad but you’re lucky to have her. You put the plate on your desk and move your laptop. You eat as you watch the show that isn’t as good as the internet suggested. 
The food is delicious. The little stuffed pastries are a bit spicy and you regret not grabbing a glass of water earlier. You got so distracted by that man. You think of sneaking down but you can just drink from the bathroom sink when you finish. A little tap water won’t hurt. 
You clear your plate quicker than you mean to and go back to the bed. The moonlight wavers outside your window as the night ware on. You yawn and make yourself get up. You can’t leave your dirty plate in here. 
You don’t notice the quiet in the house until you open the door. You listen at the top of the stairs before you descend. Slowly and silently, you make your way to the bottom and curve around to the kitchen. You rinse your plate off and grab some water while you have the chance. 
Your pulse builds as the house remains still. Strange. How did you not realise earlier? Well, you had your laptop cranked up. You can hear it from down there. 
You head back upstairs, balancing the glass in the dark, and as you pass your mom’s door, it opens. You yipe as a large figure collides with you. It’s him. Thor. 
You spill the water down your front and whip around to face him. He steadies you with his hand on your shoulder, “so sorry, mouse. I didn’t mean to--” 
His flannel shirt is undone and the soft glow of a lamp limns him from behind. Oh no! You pull away from him and skirt down the hall. Embarrassment nips at your ears and cheeks. You knew you were intruding on your mom’s night. 
You try not to think of what you interrupted as you dip into the spare room and snap the door shut with a kick of your foot. You stay near the door, breathless, until you hear the bathroom door squeak on its hinges. You shake your head and growl. 
You hope you didn’t ruin it. As awkward as it is to think of your mom in a relationship, she’s been alone for so long and you know you’re part of the reason why. Next time, you won’t go running back to mommy. It’s best for both of you that you grow up. 
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urfavleo777 · 11 months
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Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, alcohol, oral (f receiving), enemies to lovers.
"Having fun?"
You look up from your phone and see Colby staring at you. You wonder why, out of so many people, he chose to approach you. Well, maybe because half of the guests have lost touch with reality. Your best friend Sam's birthday party didn't end the way you thought it would. Instead of innocent dancing and honest conversations over a bottle of wine, one of the guests decided to bring weed and spoil the whole party.
That guest was, of course, Colby Brock himself.
You'd be lying if you said he wasn't handsome. He definitely was and he knew it perfectly well, but due to his intolerable character, especially when drunk, his appearance didn't matter.
"No," you answer flatly. You direct your gaze back to the Instagram post of some unknown model to block your view of him, but he quickly snatches it away and puts it in his pocket at the back of his pants. "Give it back to me, you freak!"
"Such a shame. You should be dancing on the table, not sitting alone like a puppy," he says with a taunting smirk. "Let me entertain you, Y/n."
You roll your eyes as he sits down on the almost empty couch next to you. Sitting in the main room, where most people have lost contact with reality and are rolling on the floors, reminds you a bit like a scene from an asylum. Colby snorts when he notices you looking at them with a look of horror on your face. You wonder where Sam is. It takes you a moment to realize that he's probably already jumped into his fancy swimming pool. Or is just busy with doing something… else.
You decide to check on him, but as you're about to get up, your dress gets caught on the table, causing it to rip. You curse under your breath, pissed that one of your favorite dresses was ruined. You sit back on the comfortable sofa so that no one notices you exposing your leg up to the hip.
Well, you are wrong if you think this may help.
"Woah, slow down, Y/n," you shoot him an angry look and he responds with a short laugh. His mocking voice is probably caused by too much alcohol in his blood, and it starts to piss you off.
"Give me my phone back, Colby." You say seriously, senselessly trying to cover your legs.
"Take it if you want it so bad."
This is the second time you roll your eyes in his presence. There's no way you're going to touch him. Indeed - now, staring at you with those hypnotic blue eyes of his, messy dark hair, red cheeks from the amount of alcohol he drank, and lips that just ask for a kiss, he is even more attractive than usual, but… no. You can't give up that easily.
"Colby, I swear to god," it was becoming more than taunts. "Give me back something you took from me. If not, that would be the perfect reason to accuse you of st-"
"I want to shut that pretty mouth of yours." You barely suppress a flinch when he whispers the words into your ear.
You don't even look at him, but in your mind's eye you see that damn smirk on his face again.
"Wanna hear something that you'll hate?" He is a whisper in your ear, gooseflesh rising on your arms and the fire igniting in your abdomen. You decide not to play unavailable any longer and nodd without saying anything. He smacks his lips after noticing your obedience. Then he moves even closer, breaking any distance between you two. "I've wanted to rip that dress off of you since the beginning of this party. I see that fate has done me a favor."
Speaking in a low voice directly into your ear, he hit your sweet spot. But it doesn't matter when you finally realize that he's only saying it because he's drunk. In a few hours you will be just friends again with Sam, who is actually your connection to keep in touch.
"Come with me. I'll show you what having fun exactly means."
And truly, you're so close to agreeing if it weren't for the fact that you're overthinking too much.
You lower your head and look away in embarrassment. Maybe it's also the alcohol, which always makes you more sensitive, but you feel like you're about to cry. You try hard not to burst into tears, because knowing Colby he would use it to tease you and make fun of you in the future.
"Is something wrong?" His wild nature disappears in the blink of an eye. Colby cups your cheek, forcing you to look into his eyes. There's no turning back as he grabs your waist with his other hand and pulls you closer to him. "Do you want me to stop?"
You just shrug. You are a conflict full of contradictions. Part of you wants to push him away and send him to hell, and the other part wants to do the things that you only secretly dream about.
Colby, seeing your indecision, respectfully moves away from you.
That’s kinda sweet, actually.
Then he closes his eyes, and when he opens them, it feels like he's even drunker than usual.
"We can't.. do this." You say, looking up at him.
Colby nods sightly, but you know the darkness in these eyes too well. He's not looking at you the way friends looks at each other. Colby notices the way your body shifts next to him, looking at him from under your lashes and biting your lip unconsciously. Nevertheless, he says the following words:
"I have always been far from your ideal man," your face contorts in confusion. You want to tell him he's stupid, but he stubbornly continues. "You've always preferred chasing the nice guys next door, like that fucking church fanatic Dylan. You never paid attention to me, even though I tried. Remember that Halloween night at Sam's? I remember you complaining about your lack of outfit ideas. You thought that by not dressing up at all, you would spoil everyone's fun. The night before, I drove around for several hours looking for the perfect costume shop. Of course, Sam told you that he dug that outfit out of the closet, but you knew that was impossible. A witch outfit in Sam's closet? Sounds bizarre, doesn't it?"
You open your mouth in confusion. True, something like that had happened and you felt strange that Sam had such things in his closet, but you ignored the feeling and just thanked him. Now you finally know who was behind it all.
"Colby…"
"Yeah, I know I'm making a damn fool of myself right now, but I want you to know that I don't want to just use you for a one-night stand. You're beautiful. When Sam introduced you to me, that was my first thought of you. Fuck, you're so beautiful, Y/n."
"Shut up and kiss me."
This answer surprises him a bit, but soon afterwards he smiles slyly.
"Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.
You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Colby kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake.
This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair.
"Please, let's get out of here," you literally beg.
He nods and takes you up the stairs. It doesn't take long before you're in Sam's room. You giggle at the spot he chose. You close the door and let yourself be carried away by the touch of Colby's delicate big hands.
Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight.
He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face.
"Mh-" You cut off your sentence by pushing him onto the bed. With one movement of his hand, he tears off the remnants of the fabric of your torn dress and admires your half-naked body.
You sit on his lap, continuing to devouring him with kisses. In the meantime, you grab his belt and clumsily try to undo it.
"Let me help you, puppy," he chuckles as he continues kissing. You sigh at the word he called you. As he throws his pants down, you hear a loud thump on the floor.
"My phone!"
"Fuck your goddamn phone," he slaps your ass, making you moan loudly. "I'll buy you a new one."
Soon you're sitting on top of Colby, whose only clothes are his underwear.
You continue grinding on his bare thigh, his boxers pushed up high. The outline of his cock shows through the cotton, and you can’t help but grab it. He inhales sharply at the sudden contact, making you giggle.
"Love seeing you all turned on, Colby," you murmur, sucking his neck that has his eyes rolling back in his head. He moves his hand from your waist to your clit, pressing slow circles to the sensitive bud over the lace. A moan slips past your lips, quickly turning into a whimper of his name. "F-Fuck, Colby. Right there."
He throws your legs over his shoulders so quickly that it has you laughing in surprise, but that laughter stops as soon as his mouth is on you. His tongue immediately finds your clit, flicking over it until your toes curl. He wraps his lips around it and sucks gently until he has you on the brink of orgasm. His fingers return to your needy hole, filling you expertly until you cum with a wanton moan.
"So fucking good," Colby says, still between your legs. His mouth and chin are covered in a slick sheen. "You wanna taste now, baby? Wanna know just how delicious you are?"
You open your mouth and eagerly accept his fingers. They taste of your arousal and a hint of strawberry; it does bear a striking similarity to your chapstick. Once Colby lets his fingers drop from your mouth, you’re whining and writhing below him.
"Now, get on your knees for me."
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writingsfromhome · 2 months
Text
In Plain Sight
A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.
Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?
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This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.
Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.
“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.
“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.
You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.
“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”
“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.
Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.
You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.
“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”
You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.
The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.
It felt mature, to think like that.
As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.
Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.
“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.
“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”
“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.
The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.
“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”
Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.
“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“
“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.
“Well it’s on me.”
“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”
“Right. I’m Harry.”
“Nice to meet you Harry.”
“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”
She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”
“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”
“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.
“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”
She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??
“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”
And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.
“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.
Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.
When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.
“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”
“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.
“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”
The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.
His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.
“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.
“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”
“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”
“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.
“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.
“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“
“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”
Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.
You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.
“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.
“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”
“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”
“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”
Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.
“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”
“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”
“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”
“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”
“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”
“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.
“Yep. I do photography.”
A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.
What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.
Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.
“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”
“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”
“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.
You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.
“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.
“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”
“Why not? Have you never?”
“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.
“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.
He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”
He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.
When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.
You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.
“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.
Take it easy.
The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.
“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.
“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”
You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.
“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”
“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”
His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.
You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.
***
The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.
“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.
“I already told you nothing happened that night.”
“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”
“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”
“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”
“He’s not interested-“
“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”
You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.
Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.
“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.
“Call who?” Claire asks.
“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”
“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.
“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.
“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.
“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”
“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.
“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.
The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.
Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.
“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”
“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”
“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”
“I think so?”
Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.
“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”
“I don’t wanna be desperate.”
“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”
“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”
You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.
Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.
He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.
“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.
The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.
Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.
***
A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.
Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.
“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.
It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.
“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”
“Yeah, it's fine.”
“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”
“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”
“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”
“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”
“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”
“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”
“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”
“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.
You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?
You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.
I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.
“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”
“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“
“You said she was all touchy!”
“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”
He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.
“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“
“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”
“What?!”
“Why you leaving?”
“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”
“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”
“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.
“Half-ass?”
“Or were you just being a whole ass?”
“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”
“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”
“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”
You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.
“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”
“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”
You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”
“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.
“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”
“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”
Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.
But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?
What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.
If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.
***
You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.
Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.
You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.
“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.
“Is that yn? Hii!”
“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.
“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”
You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.
“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”
“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.
You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.
But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.
***
Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.
“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.
“Kinda?”
“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”
You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.
“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Guys always run when you do.”
Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”
She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.
The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.
“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”
“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.
The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.
“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.
You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!
You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.
Whatever.
The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.
“Why not?”
“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”
“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”
“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”
“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.
“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.
“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.
“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.
You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.
Claire approaches the group with curiosity.
Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.
Then there were three.
“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.
“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.
“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”
“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”
“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.
“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”
You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.
You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.
Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.
And then there were two.
“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.
“What do you mean?” Harry asks.
You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.
“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.
“No, maybe I should.”
“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”
As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?
“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“
“Fuck off! I’m done!”
“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.
You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.
You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.
Everything snaps into place.
You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.
“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”
You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.
“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.
And it happens just so.
“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”
And you let her go.
And now you had to kill time.
You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.
You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.
Well fuck him too, you think miserably.
You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.
The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.
You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.
In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.
It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.
Same, you think.
Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.
You step inside and close the door.
Down goes another beer.
You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.
You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.
The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.
You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.
Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.
“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.
“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.
He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.
“Because you disappeared.”
“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”
“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.
“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”
“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”
“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”
“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”
The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”
You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.
“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“
“I do do that don’t I?”
“You said do do,” you giggle.
“Very mature.”
“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.
Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”
“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.
“What’s that mean?”
“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”
“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”
You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”
“I don’t.”
“Do so.”
“What’s it to you?“
You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.
You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?
Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.
You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.
Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.
It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.
“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”
“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”
“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”
“Mhm.”
“Do you have a boyfriend now?”
“Nope.”
“What’s your last actual relationship?”
“A long time ago.”
“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”
“I can confirm.”
“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”
“Thanks,” you say dryly.
“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“
“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”
His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.
“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.
“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.
“It gets pretty lonely though right.”
You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.
“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”
“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.
“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”
It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.
You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.
You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.
“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”
“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.
He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.
Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.
“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.
“What?” You finally ask.
You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.
Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.
It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-
The bed vibrates.
“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.
“Claire,” you sit up.
“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”
“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”
“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”
You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”
Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.
You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.
“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.
“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”
“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”
You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.
“I gotta go weirdo.”
“Yeah,” he says.
“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“
“Yeah,” he agrees.
“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”
You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.
You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.
***
“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.
But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.
How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.
But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.
“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.
“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.
“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”
Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.
***
Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.
“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.
“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”
“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”
“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“
“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.
“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Watching the game?”
“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”
“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.
“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”
“Y/n?”
“Yeah!”
“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.
“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”
“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.
“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.
“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”
“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”
Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”
She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”
Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.
But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.
He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.
Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.
***
You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.
You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.
You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.
Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.
“Looked like you could use a hand.”
“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.
“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”
“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”
“I saw you in there?”
“I didn’t see you.”
“Yeah I um-“
“You had nothing to do with this right?”
“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?
“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”
Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”
Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.
“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”
“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“
“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“
“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.
“Ok. Well when do you finish?”
Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.
“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”
“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.
“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”
You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”
Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.
Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.
He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.
Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.
You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.
But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.
“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.
“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.
“Did you want to leave your things here?”
“I have a car I can put them in?”
“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”
So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.
Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.
“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.
You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.
You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.
“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.
“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.
The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.
“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”
“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”
“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”
“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”
“Yeah so? What happened?”
He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.
“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.
“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.
“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”
You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”
For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.
Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.
Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.
“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.
“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.
“She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“
“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”
Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”
“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”
Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.
“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”
You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.
It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.
You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.
The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.
“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”
“Shite that’s early!”
“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”
“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”
“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”
“Yeah sure!”
“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”
“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”
“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”
“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.
“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.
“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this
“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.
When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.
Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.
He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.
You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.
Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.
You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.
“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”
“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.
“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”
“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”
With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.
Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.
You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.
The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.
You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.
He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.
You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.
Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.
It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.
It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.
When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.
You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.
The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.
“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.
Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.
“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”
With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.
It’s bliss.
***
The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.
You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.
The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.
You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.
It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere
Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.
Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.
You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.
Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.
There was no need for words.
You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.
He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.
This time there was no rush.
The morning was warm, and so were you.
5 months later
You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.
The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.
You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.
You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.
You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.
Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.
He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.
You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.
Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.
“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”
“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”
“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.
Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.
And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.
You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.
“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.
“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”
“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.
“What a pair we make,” you grin.
“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.
“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.
“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”
“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”
You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.
“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”
“Oh?” You tilt your head.
“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”
Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.
“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.
“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.
“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”
“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.
The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.
"I love you," Harry reminds you.
"I love you too," you respond.
Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.
You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.
Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.
You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.
He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.
Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.
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byfulcrums · 2 years
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I hate it when people make the DC characters feel scared of Phantom. Or when they make them freak out over how crazy his life is
Most of the characters would just go “Oh a Ghost King! That's cool” and either attack, befriend or ignore
They always write Dick to be the responsible one when he's not. If he saw this child he wouldn't go “Omg he's so young!!! Poor baby!!!” he'd go “Oh god no please don't let B see this one” and then “Hey this one's kind of fucked up. I'm going to keep it for a while to see what happens wish me luck🤞”
Or when they make the JL freak out about him. Guys, Flash is able to break reality, time travel, destroy the multiverse and more. If he finds out Danny is Dick's clone or something he'd go “again? How many clones are there?” and just vibe with it
Danny would be so happy to find people who just don't give a shit about how weird he is. He only has his friends and sister and they're just. Three people. This boy needs mental help and everyone freaking out about him isn't helping. He's just vibing with his new also overpowered friends
“Yeah so I'm half dead. I was killed by a ghost portal that opened right where I was, and instead of actually killing me it brought me back to life. I'm a ghost possessing its own body. Sometimes if I feel too weak I'll look the way I looked when I died — with my chest half open and my eyes bleeding. My blood is green. I will probably see everyone I love die. Wild, right?”
“Oh yeah! I've got my own experience with dying. It sucks, man. It's funny for the fastest man alive to not have been able to outrun death lmao. Speedsters also age really weirdly. I'm a married adult with two children but I look like I'm 18. But then later I look like I'm 30. And then 20. And then 40. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll look into the mirror and won't recognize who I see haha”
“Talking about body horror! I don't know if I'm the real me. I've created so many mes (the scout thingies) that I can't tell if I'm the original one or not. Maybe I died, and I'm the only thing that remains of me, and I would never be able to tell. I could be being tortured right at this moment. I could be trapped in the speedforce. And no one would ever know because I'm right here, but if I'm not me then they'd live with an imposter by their side”
“Ahh, body horror. My old friend”
(they're all on the verge of a panic attack)
Danny, glowing with a green light at 3am in the kitchen: Hey what the fuck are you doing here
Green Lantern, also glowing with a green light: I live here you fuck
Danny: Shit this isn't my house??
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Text
the marauders being clingy
Characters: James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black
Synopsis: The Marauders loving their s/o and being all clingy
TW: Drunk, alcohol (Sirius)
James Potter
“James,” you whined, “breakfast is going to be over soon, we need to get out of bed.”
James was still half-asleep, with his face pressed against your chest as he laid on top of you. He was like a koala to a tree, clinging onto your warm body.
The way your hands massaged his scalp probably didn’t help keep him alert.
“Five more minutes,” James mumbled sleepily against your skin. “You’re too comfy.”
“James, don’t you have a quidditch match this afternoon? Don’t you want to strategize with the team this morning?”
“They can wait.”
“I have classes to get to, you know?” you stop playing with his hair, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Please, baby, I don’t wanna get up yet!” James complained pathetically.
“You have to get up eventually,” you sat up slowly, James reluctantly following suit. “Let’s get ready, go to breakfast, go to class, I’ll cheer for you at your game, and then tonight we can cuddle until we fall asleep.”
James grumpily got out of bed and ready. “Tomorrow morning is a Saturday. And I will not let you out of my arms until lunch, you hear me?”
Remus Lupin
“And so the combination of rose petals and swan feathers creates a sand-like powder that is commonly used in beauty and love spells. Rowena Ravenclaw, however, feared that access to such emotional magic would harm the students, so for the first two centuries of Hogwarts’ existence was an impeccably swan-free zone…”
You read your history book out loud to Remus, who had his head rested in your lap.
“Remus? Are you listening?”
“Hm? Yes, of course, love. Swans and the lack thereof,” he nodded, as he flipped himself from his back to his stomach. His head still resting comfortably on your thighs.
“Tired, Moony?” you put the book down.
“Mhm, a bit. But don’t stop reading on my account. I’m still listening,” Remus’s voice was tired and relaxed.
“Don’t be silly, you go to sleep.”
“Are you gonna fall asleep with me?” he looked up from your lap, expectantly.
“No, I still need to study. The history of Hogwarts waits for no one,” you sighed with a faint smile. “But you had this class last term, so you don’t need to sit through all this.”
“I want to, love. I like hearing you read,” Remus laid his head back down. “Please, continue.”
You smiled with a roll of the eyes and reopened the book. “In addition to swans, all white feathers were equally prohibited. Notably, doves and cranes got it particularly rough…”
Before you could make it to the next page, Remus was asleep on your lap.
Sirius Black
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” Remus frowned as he led you into the Gryffindor common room.
On a couch, laid a very drunk Sirius, talking some poor second year’s ear off.
“Oh, and you should just see them! They’ve got this smile, and these eyes, and, ugh! I hate them they’re so perfect. And I’m dating them! How did that happen?” Sirius ranted.
“I, um, I don’t know,” the perfectly sober second-year shrugged awkwardly.
“Me neither!” Sirius said just a bit too loud.
You walked over to relieve the poor kid from their duties. “I’ve got him from here, thanks.”
“Darling!” Sirius cheered happily at your arrival. He opened his arms for a hug, which when you accept he turns into a cuddle.
He wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled you down on top of him on the couch. The scent of alcohol hit you.
“How much have you had to drink, Sirius?” you inquired.
“Enough to feel good enough to do this,” he smirked as he pulled you into a kiss.
The kiss was long and sloppy, until you pulled away. Sirius frowned slightly at that.
“Siri, you’re smashed. I think you should get to bed,” you advised.
“What? No! You just got here, I’m just starting to have fun!” Sirius whined.
Suddenly, another Gryffindor approached you, asking for help with an essay he had due tomorrow.
“Back off! She was just about to take me to bed!” He declared proudly, with drunken loudness and shamelessness.
And you did just that. Took him to his room, and cuddled him to sleep. Although his hangover was not as pleasant.
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animehideout · 10 months
Note
I think a lot about jjk men being angry because their gamer girlfriend ignores them 😩
(sorry for the writing, english is not my first language
JJK Men x Gamer GF
a/n: Hello anon thank you so much for your request. I had fun writing this one. I really hope you like it 🫶🏻
( Requests are open )
Characters: Gojo Satoru / Toji Fushiguro / Ryomen Sukuna / Nanami Kento.
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Gojo Satoru:
Satoru has been very busy with endless missions lately, getting home really late.
To ease your lonliness, you started gaming.
Well till it turned into addiction.
You were kinda mad at him for not making time for you or at least speak to the higher-ups to take some days off.
But you never talked that out with him, since you didn't have the chance to express yourself.
He surprisingly arrived early tonight, excited to spend the night cuddling with you while watching movies.
But he didn't expect you to have your eyes glued on the screen in front of you while gaming like a maniac.
The room echoed with the sounds of keystrokes and game music.
He jumped in excitement to surprise you but no reaction.
“huh? baby! Im hooome”
“hey” you smiled unenthusiastically at him and quickly turned your focus back on your game.
He raised his eyebrow, watching as you delve into your virtual world, a world seemingly more captivating than his presence.
Would try everything to bring your attention towards him.
He knows his touch makes you weak, so he leaned in wrapping his arms around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head, wishing to draw your attention away from your screen.
“I missed you so much babygirl”
His attempt failed miserably, you just hummed in return completely ignoring him.
When his affection didn't work he started teasing you attempting to provoke you and get a reaction out of you.
“You sure you can play this game? I feel like you suck at this”.
When his teasing fell on a deaf ear as well, his frustration reached its peak.
His calm and amused voice turned into an annoyed tone.
“ARE YOU REALLY GONNA IGNORE ME FOR THAT STUPID GAME Y/N?” he would yell in an unusual harsh tone.
The question hang in the air as it left you momentarily stunned.
“Why the hell are you yelling?” you would question.
“Oh so now I got your attention?! I've been trying to talk to you for half an hour now and all what you did is playing your stupid game”.
His anger was very evident.
He would remove his blindfold throwing it somewhere in your shared bedroom.
“So you got mad because I was focusing on playing my game but you didn't consider that I'm probably the one who's mad because you're never home” you let out of everything, confronting him.
“you're comparing this stupid game to my job?”
Oh boy he fucked up, he didn't get the whole point.
After raging and snapping at you he would give you the silent treatment.
Of course his narcissistic ass wouldn't apologize first.
He's convinced that it's your fault even though he was offensive as well.
You would eventually say sorry and he'll show you his bright smile at the spot.
Both of you would talk things out and find a solution to spend more time together.
“so we good now baby?...can we cuddle?”
“yeah Satoru just lemme finish this round” you would joke.
Toji Fushiguro:
As much as he enjoys your giggles and the way you throw cute tantrums while playing, he HATES IT when you're completely engrossed in your game, oblivious to the way he's sitting there watching you.
Kinda paradoxical.
He wished to have you in his arms.
Or having you on his lap while making out.
But all of these were just thoughts crossing his mind cuz you don't seem like you're finishing your game any time sooner.
And that annoyed him to the core.
“y/n, y/n ?”
“HOW LONG IS THIS GOING TO TAKE”.
You didn't even hear him with having your headset on.
He's very possessive of you and he wants all of your attention to himself.
Especially when you started chatting with your friends, while playing together.
That shit was his last straw.
“Thats it...get your ass over here y/n”
You would look at him in disbelief.
Mouthing “my friends heard you”
“oh trust me I don't give A SINGLE FUCK” he would yell again.
You apologized to your friends and quickly paused the game.
“Are you out of your mind Toji why did you say that”.
“Why did you apologize to your friends while I'm the one you should apologize to”
He would stand up approaching you, narrowing his eyes, clearly pissed.
His giant figure making you take a step back, trapping you between him and your desk.
“Now what should I do to you for ignoring me for too long huh?” he whispered.
You started stuttering, his strong aura did things to you.
His narrow eyes piercing through you, sending shivers down your spine.
“I- I'm s-sorry” you gulped.
“What a good girl...now turn off that computer before I smash it and get your ass on the bed”
Well you had no other options, so you obeyed him.
Unless you want to act bratty which will result in him punishing the hell out of you.
Would spend the whole night cuddling you, literally smashing you in his strong arms, never letting go of you. 🫶🏻🥹
“But Toji I really need to use the bathroom”.
“Nuh-uh”.
Ryomen Sukuna:
Two possibilities, whether you're too bold or you're suicidal and have a death wish to test this man's patience.
They just released this new game and you're completely obsessed with it.
You would spend hours playing it, luckily Sukuna was busy with some things so he didn't notice the way that game took your whole attention and energy.
He wants to be the one taking all of your time and energy.
But when he does notice, oh god, run or pray for your life.
“y/n come here let me kiss you”
“one second!!!”
He would look at you in disbelief.
Cocking his eyebrow, while leaning back .
Even though your back was facing him, you could feel the daggers he was sending your way.
“I said NOW”
“Please baby, I'm winning be there in a sec-”
You didn't even get to finish your sentence when he threw your whole set up off of your desk.
Your eyes would widen in shock.
You don't know if you should feel sad that your whole gaming set up got destroyed or scared that you're the one about to get destroyed.
“You dare to ignore me.. that's bold of you y/n” he would say in his deep voice, making your chest tighten.
“I'll only allow this once, there won't be a second time... do you understand?”
You would nod immediately.
He would throw you on his shoulder taking you to your shared bedroom.
“You need to be taught a lesson after all”
Of course he wouldn't apologize that he got angry at you.
I mean, it's Sukuna we're talking about.
The next day, Sukuna would surprise you with a new gaming computer with complete setup.
You've never imagined him doing this gesture but you truly appreciated that the king of curse actually considered your feelings.
“I don't understand what humans find so entertaining in this game... you should try murder is much more fun..”
You would happily unbox it and place it on your desk.
“Now, Doll next time when I tell you to stop you stop immediately without any stupid excuses”.
Nanami Kento:
Would be home after a long day at work.
Brings dinner with him and expects both of you to eat together while talking about your day and future plans for the weekend.
Only to find you in a dark room, only your computer screen glowing.
“y/n I'm home darling!”
“oh hey there baby” you would simply say eyes still glued on the game.
He wouldn't think much of it even though you were used to jump on him, embracing him in a long hug and telling him how much you missed him.
But lately all what you've been occupied with is this game.
Would give you space, while he takes his time to shower, prepare the table for both of you to have dinner.
“y/n dinner is ready, let's eat”
“yeah yeah I'll be there in a sec Kento” you said, agressively pressing the buttons on your controller.
He would sigh and head to the kitchen, to wait for you there.
Half an hour has passed, an hour and you didn't show up yet.
“shit” you said to yourself when you checked the time.
You ran downstairs to find him on the couch watching TV.
You slowly approached him and sat next to him.
“ken-”
“you don't have to say anything y/n”.
Your heart ached because you know you screwed up.
He would ignore you, his eyes fixated on the big screen in front of him.
You would place your hand on his lap but he would reject you.
“Kento please”
He would start lecturing you.
“You know, that was extremely childish y/n.. I've been waiting for us to have dinner together since the moment I left the morning.. that's what keeps me going.. knowing that I'll come back home to find you..but you did what? you ignored me”
He would be really furious but he kept it to a low and cold tone.
No matter how much he gets pissed he'll never raise his voice at you.
You would look down, embarrassed and feeling extremely guilty.
“I'm your husband y/n , lately you're not fulfilling your duties towards me like I do to you..”.
He is a responsible man, and he believes in efforts from both sides.
You would end up crying.
And he'll end up apologizing even though it was your mistake from the beginning.
He hates seeing you cry, especially because of him.
He regretted getting angry at you.
Between sobs you managed to explain to him that you were trying to win an award by getting the first place in this game.
Would bring you to his chest, holding you close.
“shh I'm sorry.. that's okay. I understand. I'm sorry if my words were harsh”
Would wipe your tears.
Doesn't go to work the next day and spends the day with you while you teach him how to play.
Thank you for reading (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪
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nocturnesmoon · 10 months
Text
Safety Nets
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Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x GN!Reader Wordcount: 6k Tags: Polyamory, established relationship, Hurt/comfort, a LOT of comfort, the guys take care of you, that's the fic CW/TW: Military inaccuracies? canon typical violence, insecurities, heavy self doubt and self blame, minor character death, A/N: This is probably inaccurate mission and military wise but idc i wanted to write something like this for so long- though i am open to constructive criticism if you got some notes. (Read on Ao3)
-You come back from a mission that shook you to your core, the boys help you back on your feet as they always do-
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The wind raged like a storm in your ears, despite the heavy earmuffs which sat too tight on your head, you could hear it clearly. When you closed your eyes, you could imagine it being a hurricane, a wind so strong it would scoop you up and carry you to who knows where. One that would tear you apart and leave no remnants of who you were.
The thought seemed nice, to be taken away and to never return. To be freed from not having to face your own failures in the disappointed stares, that awaited down on the rapidly approaching platform. Your body rocked with every little swerve of the helicopter, no longer having the strength to go against the motion.
"Lieutenant?" Your head snapped up to the soldier in front of you. You ignored the crack in your neck and the ache that pooled into your muscles. He'd been calling on you a few times now, his concerned eyes searching your face for an answer. "We're about to land sir," the soldier let you know, you couldn't muster up a verbal response, only a nod to acknowledge you'd heard.
Ever since they had picked you up on the site, they had that look of pity. It made you squirm, feeling all too self-aware of the way your clothes were caked in mud and blood. Your bones hurt, and your joints felt like snapping in half. You had spent the majority of the mission running, believing that you wouldn't make it out. You had fled, and you had left them behind.
The size of the heli was too big for just you, the soldier, and the pilot in the front. The space felt like caging you in, reminding you of your failure, of who you had lost. Your eyes threatened to shut, the exhaustion whispering in your ear that it would all feel a little better if you let yourself drift away into sleep.
Except every time your eyes slipped closed it wasn't darkness you saw, it was their screams, their blood, and their gore. The cracks you heard when one of the bullets pierced someone's skull echoed in your ears, as if you were still down there on the battlefield.
You were pulled back into your own head, your mind running laps to go through the mission once more. Every single second accounted for so you could dissect your failure. How each one of them had fallen, one by one they dropped like they were nothing. How you had ran with what was left of your team, until one got caught in a bear trap and pulled under falling debris, and the other was shot in the stomach.
You had hoped your head would fill with fog, that it would help you forget and suppress the last few moments of that soldier’s life. His name had been Jacob, his callsign Wisp, he had been difficult to deal with but his progress under your guidance had been noticeable. You hated how it was only now you could remember every little thing about him. Before you didn't care, you did your job in training him, guiding him, but you never made an effort to know him. You wished your brain would stop remembering every little thing now, making you feel all the more guilty.
You wished your brain would do that thing it's supposed to do, block out the traumatic memories so you didn't have to deal with them. Yet they were there still so fresh in your mind, like an open wound, his last words repeated over and over in your mind. You'd think someone's last words would be scared, or sentimental or a sweet last wish. Not his, no he decided his last wish was to let you know just how much you had failed them all.
Over and over again you replayed that memory, how his blood had mixed with the dirt and gravel under you both. You remember how his hand had clutched onto your arm, digging his nails through your sleeve and into your skin. He had pulled you down with him in his final moments, uttered those words into your ear with so much disdain the tone would have rocked your core on its own.
"This is your fault, you led us here."
There was more to his words, you were sure there was but maybe your brain was doing part of its job now. You could only cling to every part of the memory you could before it slipped away into the fog. It was only when someone gently nudged you that you snapped out of your own mind once more. "Sir?" your body went rigid at the touch and the voice, and you fought the distinct urge to disarm the person that was in front of you.
It was the same soldier that had been with you ever since they found you. He had been careful around you ever since he saw the casualties, walking on eggshells around you as if you were a loose cannon, maybe you were. "Sir?" he repeated, being a little more patient now that he had your attention, "We're here."
You felt your stomach drop, nodding slowly and glancing towards the opening doors, the platform outside. You could already glimpse at the two people that were waiting for you, they had probably been on edge for days. It only made you more guilty how you must have worried them, ever since your call for immediate evac. You weren't even sure you could reassure them once you got down there, you weren't sure you wouldn't just collapse to your knees the moment you were within their vicinity.
"Do you need help Lieutenant?" the soldier in front of you hadn't moved, it surprised you slightly, having been sure he would be just as eager to get off and way from your stench of death. For a moment you want to say yes, tell them to get someone to carry you, because your knees would give out the moment you went to stand, but how would that look for you. A new promising Lieutenant, the first op you led after you got your new rank and it turned out like this.
You didn't dare look up at the soldier, too afraid that your own eyes would give you away. You considered for a moment, to tell the soldier to go get the only two people who would know what to do. The only two people you would trust enough to become vulnerable with. "No..." your voice barely comes through, but he seems to register it, his legs moving quickly to get down on the platform. It was time to face them.
It had been a long few days ever since you said goodbye to the two of them. 72 hours since you had left on the plane with the promise of being back sometime the next day. 24 since Johnny had started complaining about your absence. 6 since Simon had been alerted of the fact you had called for immediate evac, that the supposedly simple mission had gone wrong in every way possible.
He hadn't relayed all the grueling details to Johnny, just that the op had gone wrong and that you might come back a little rattled. Simon wasn't entirely sure what had gone wrong either, he just knew there was casualties, and the team wasn't coming back in one piece. The scot next to him was restless, practically jumping in place from anxiety, watching intently as the heli descended and the doors opened.
Simon kept one step in front of him, knowing the man all too well, and even though his eagerness is shared within Simon's own veins, he knows that you might not be in a state that could positively receive that. He knew the both of you inside and out, the years he had spent with both you and  Johnny allowed him to know you in ways he didn't think possible.
He was quick to find out exactly what made you both tick, what set you off, what made you happy and what would comfort you. He didn't like the uncertainty; it was a rocky start when he was still mapping out your emotions. By now you all knew each other well, like three puzzle pieces that fit together, you had found each other and filled out the holes in each other’s lives. Certainty was assured when he was with either of you because you both knew he needed it.
This was new, this was an uncertainty he didn't like. He had no idea what you would be like when you came down to the platform, down into their arms once again. Not to mention the fact you and nobody else had come out yet only churned that unsettling anxiety in his stomach further.
"L.T?" the sound of Johnny's accent filled his ears, his shoulders managing to relax just a little. He wasn't alone in this, he reminded himself, Johnny would be here to figure out how to help you as well. Johnny's pinky curled around Simon's, his urge to pull them both away from the public area would have overpowered if it wasn't for the fact, they were waiting for you.
The pilot had gotten out almost as soon as they landed, but you were still nowhere. He could just peak inside, trying to look for you or anyone else he would recognize. He only caught a glimpse of your form, hidden behind another soldier who was speaking to you. "What's taking 'em so long," Simon mumbled quietly, his mask obscuring his already quiet speech.
Johnny let out a heavy sigh, the hold his pinky finger had was surprisingly strong. They shared the anxiousness, the uncomfortable knowledge that you weren't okay. "Ah dinnae ken" he answered, trying to angle himself so he could get a better look at you. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot he could see at the distance.
They waited, as patiently as they could, the inconspicuous grip they had on each other also served to hold themselves back. Their resolve was wearing thin, and they both knew it, that soldier was talking to you about something, something they didn't know about, and they didn't like it. Simon almost completely lost it when he saw the soldier emerge without you, but his attention was quickly turned when you appeared not long after.
Your walk was slow, in no hurry to get back to them, it should've been the first sign. You looked around as if you were confused, as if you hadn't walked down this path a hundred times before. Johnny wasted no time bolting forward, closing in on you with the clear goal that you were his target. It startled you and Simon almost wanted to berate Johnny in that moment for being so quick with his movements.
Though what Simon saw almost made him want to have a little more time to prepare. The look in your eye rattled something foreign in his bones. It was something familiar, something he had seen in himself once upon a time. Something terrifying he'd never have wished upon you, how it felt when his bare soul had been chipped away at. He looked behind you, expecting some other members of your team to perhaps clue them in on the horror that had occurred.
The hit felt even harder when he realized, you were the only one.
By the time they had gotten you inside and settled in the tub you were a little more present. Your awareness a little higher from when they were on the platform. You had barely spoken a word to them, so vary of threats on every corner that you didn't even let your guard down for them as you usually did.
Only when they had managed to drag you inside, convinced you that your report could wait for later, and gotten you safely inside the space of your own quarters, did you settle. Johnny had carefully helped you out of your clothes, taking the task of cleaning you up and settling you into the safe atmosphere that was them.
He had whispered soft praise in your ears as he removed layer after layer, meanwhile suppressing the want to berate you for each little wound he found on your body. He knew you didn't need the extra scolding, the pure shock from the mission would be enough for you. However, he still felt that sting of hurt in his heart, knowing that neither he nor Simon was there to look after you, to take care of you.
He was well aware that you were capable on your own, you wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't good at what you did. If your rank wasn't enough to go from, then your other various accomplishments on your resume was. But when he saw you like this, with the silent knowledge that you could've been wiped out along with the rest, it put a dark cloud over his mind.
He helped you slowly lower yourself into the bath Simon had previously prepared. You winced in pain when the warm water touched your wounds. None of them were severe enough to cause major worry, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt just as much. Your movements were sloggy, relying on Johnny to not lose yourself completely.
"There ye are," Johnny mumbled quietly, forcing a soft smile on his lips in hopes you soothing you. You let out a shuddering sigh, doing your best to relax into the warm water. You pulled your legs close to your chest, resting your tin atop your bruised knees. "Oh leannan," he gently presses his lips to your temple, cradling your head in an attempt for comfort.
It feels like you're not fully present, watching the world from a third person view that doesn’t exist. You have half of your comfort with you, his hands grabbing the washcloth and slowly moving it over your skin. You look around the small bathroom, trying to locate the other half of your comfort, the missing equation.
"Si..." You're taken aback on your own voice, the croak and soreness of it all leaving you wondering whether you had yelled or screamed more than you thought. You tried to think back on it, settling your mind into the mission again but it made a headache form.
Johnny's motion came to a slow stop, his eyes catching your pleading ones. He knew what you wanted, but he wasn't the one that could give it to you. "He's comin' soon," he does his best at keeping your calm, "S'ok jus' relax." His free hand finds your cheek, making you focus your vision on him.
You lean into it, your body trembling slightly beneath his touch. It was warm and safe, two things you hadn't felt ever since you left. He moved the washcloth over your face, rubbing at the dirt that had infested itself on your skin. His eyes never left your face, his attention and devotion completely yours. His eyes fell on your trembling lips, before quickly flickering upwards to see the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.
"S'ok love, yer okay" He lets the washcloth rest on the edge of the tub so he could take your face in both hands. His forehead leans against yours, bringing you close and gently coaxing you into more contact. "Just breathe with me aye, he'll be back in no time" your eyes fluttered closed, listening to his instructions, glad that you were able to let go of the part of your brain that needed to make decisions.
Fortunately, he was right, as he often is.
Heavy footsteps could be heard and then the creak of the door, it made you snap your eyes open, their searching beginning once more. They landed on the tall brute, Simon's eyes fixated on you since the moment he made his way into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and made his way towards the tub, planting himself on the toilet seat right next to it.
He was still wearing his mask, tired eyes searching your body and gliding over the wounds in your traumatized state. He lets out a deep sigh, reaching his hand up to his mask and slowly sliding it off. You had seen his face so many times, by now it shouldn't affect you anymore, yet still you can't help that feeling you get when you see him shed the mask in front of you and Johnny. The trust he has in the two of you makes your heart flutter.
The look he's giving you almost makes you feel ashamed, even though you know that he's just concerned. He's always been, that's why he's so harsh on you, on Johnny, even on occasion Garrick. You're pretty sure the only reason he isn't like that on Price as well is because of his higher rank and better experience. He's trained you hard so you could overcome anything, but no amount of training could prepare you for this kind of thing.
Johnny leans back, allowing Simon more space to move closer. You move before he does, leaning your body slightly to the side. The sound of splashing water went deaf on your ears, even as Johnny yelped from some of the water going overboard. Your chin ended up nestled atop Simon's thigh, his eyes never leaving you as you moved. His hand coming down to rest on the back of your head.
"How we doin' pet?" his voice of gravel is like a blanket for your soul, the years of smoking giving him a voice that makes you shiver. In truth you don't feel like speaking, you don't feel like answering at all. You know you have to; you can't hide forever but you still hope they won't inquire about the mission just yet.
You let out a huff, almost hoping that the answer would suffice for Simon, but he keeps looking at you with those expectant eyes. "I don't know," you whisper quietly, letting your eyes fall, your body going slack against the side of the tub.
Simon nods in response, a hum of understanding going out to you. "S'fine, you don't have to know right now," he tells you, giving you the peace of mind to just have a non-conditional existence between them.
Johnny picks up the washcloth again, guiding your arms in his direction so he could continue his work of getting you clean. They're both quick and efficient with cleaning you up, Simon's rough voice filling the room as he updates you on things that's happened since you were gone. It's not much, mostly trivial things you don't care about and will likely forget, but it keeps your calm, giving you something else to focus on.
"Ye should've seen Cap he was livid," Johnny's laughs and you muster a smile, hearing about his latest misadventures, and the dumb thing's he'd rode Gaz into. His hands run over your scalp, working in the shampoo and grimacing when he takes out a small clump of dirt. "Aye darling, how the hell did ye get so caked in mud anyway," he sighs, parting your strands to get to the nape of your neck.
You bend your head down to allow him to work through your hair without straining his arms. "I..." you do your best to think back, but the number of times you fell down and scraped against things were a blur. "I think i tripped a lot...it was a muddy area," You held back a pleasured groan, as Johnny worked his fingers over your scalp, small goosebumps going down your back and arms.
"I don't really remember," you admit and let out an exasperated sigh. Johnny finishes up your hair, going for a little longer than necessary in hopes of keeping your enjoyment going awhile longer. When he pulls back to reach for the shower head, he boops your nose, leaving some soap on your face. His mischievous grin is infectious, and it manages to tug the corners of your lips upwards. The way his eyes light up when he sees your half smile makes your heart hurt, you've worried them so much, you're still worrying them.
As soon as they got you out of the water you were clinging to them like a leech. Refusing to let go of the precious contact you've already established with them. They move you around between them, molding you to them as they do the teamwork of getting you dry. Simon peppers soft kisses to your lips and cheeks while Johnny moves the towel over your back.
Even after they're done getting you as dry as they can, they keep you there. Sandwiched between them they hold you tight, and in tune each other. Johnny's head nestled in the crook of your neck and Simon's chin resting on top of your head. It's a stance that squeezes you tight, your own head getting light from the amount of love they try to squeeze into your bones.
It makes your heart burn, and your eyes sting with tears. Your breathing coming out in small gasps, as you end up choking back on a sob. Every single little thing coming crashing down on you now that you know you're safe in their arms. They've always got you, ready to catch you in case you fall. That hasn't changed, and being so subtly reminded by them brings it all out.
"Breathe," you aren't sure who says it, the disorienting feeling not alleviating even as they accommodate you. "Good Good," you recognize Simon's praising voice when you manage to take a few deep breaths. The tears never manage to fall but you don't doubt that they both know just by looking at your pathetic state.
"Love, we need to treat your wounds," he starts off quietly, not having any haste to move you, "Johnny'll go get you some food, and then we can get you settled into bed, okay?" He's making it sound more like a question, but you know it's just to make you aware of their next movements.
Even so you can't help but cling to Johnny's presence as he starts to unattach himself from the cuddle. You look up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would stay if you just used puppy eyes enough. You almost think he'll budge as he moves closer to you again, his lips descending onto yours for a chaste kiss. Reluctantly he pulls away again, "Be back soon, ah promise ye."
Before you can protest and force him to stay, Simon scoops you up and places you on the bathroom counter. Distracting you from Johnny's quest of finding food that will be easily digested. He holds your face in his hand to keep your eyes on him, while the other one rummage through a cabinet.
You had gotten extremely lucky all things considered, the worst of your injuries the long scrapes on your back from sliding down a hill with sharp rocks. The rest included rough bruises, sore joints, and jumbled mind. Your other teammates had been much less fortunate, led right into their death by your own incompetence.
You're softly called back to reality, Simon gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek and calling your name. You don't know how long you were zoned out, but it was long enough to give him that worried glint in his eye. "Sorry..." you croak, swallowing thickly to hold it all back but this time it's not as easy.
The tears come slow and quiet, the shake in your body forcing them out of your waterline and down your cheekbones. He gently wipes them away, pulling you in closer to his body again and cradling you against his chest. "You survived," he reminds you, "You're still here."
You want to nod along with him and take in his words to keep close. But you don't know if you agree with him, you survived but should you have? Why did you survive and not Jacob, not any of the other soldiers who trusted you to see it through.
Simon placed a soft kiss to the top of your head and then leaned over you to get a look at your back. He gave no reaction to whatever he saw as to not make you panic, though from the bleeding warmth in your back told you it probably wasn't looking the best.
"Lean back for me pet," he instructs you, slowly plucking you from his chest. With a reluctant sigh you lean back and look down at yourself. Your eyes trailing over every little bruise that littered your body. Simon was silent as he took care of you, giving you gentle squeezes over small kisses after every little wince you made.
When he was done treating the visible wounds, you could hear Johnny rustling around outside the bathroom. The only thing left was your back, the one you dreaded the most out of all your wounds. Simon leaned back just as Johnny came back into the room, a set of your clothes hanging over his arm. He places it on the counter and picks through it, handing you a fresh set of underwear, sweats, and t-shirt.
"Wait with the shirt, need to check over your back," Simon reaches over for the underwear and sweats, helping you into it and lowering you back to the floor. You stretch out your limbs, groaning as you feel the exhaustion in your body, your joints popping when you stretch your arms above your head.
Johnny takes your hand in his own, smiling at you and leading you into the bedroom. "Ah found ye some soup, there wasn't a lot to choose from at this hour," he told you as you crawl onto the bed. You glance at the nightstand, the soup bowl steaming and looking good enough to make your mouth water. The little chocolate bar next to it makes you smile, just until Simon guides you to lay on your stomach.
The real pain is about to start, you think. His hands smoothe over your back, avoiding the ridges of your wounds and grabbing the salve. "It'll be quick, am sure" Johnny lowers himself onto the bed next to you, mimicking your way of laying. His head right next to yours, his loving eyes staring into your own and the giddy smile he wore made you huff out the air in your lungs.
"Hi"
"Hi"
His hand reaches out and caresses your cheek, gently running his fingers over your scalp. He does his best at distracting you from the pain in your back. "How ye feelin'?" he asks quietly, his thumb running over your cheek and fixating on your lip.
"Like shit," you scoff and turn your face into the mattress. You feel Simon's hand run over your back, the aching pain making you whine into the sheets. His hands hesitate, smoothing over unscarred skin as an apology before going back to his work.
The work on your wounds is tedious, and when he finally pulls away your eyelashes are wet. The clutch you have on the sheets beneath you is starting to hurt your knuckles. Simon's touch leaves you, but you don't take any action to turn or move. Someone else guides you to move, the difference in touch leading you to believe it's Johnny.
He moves you closer to him, slowly turning you up so you're sitting and leaning against him. He gently helps you into a t-shirt before moving you around like a ragdoll once more. You're settled between his legs, your back to his front and his big forearms wrapped around your waist. He buries his head in your neck, squeezing you and inhaling your scent as if it's the only thing he ever needs.
"C'mon, you need'ta eat," the bed dips as Simon gets back on it, this time having the bowl of soup in hand. He settles in front of you both, reaching forward and gently rubbing your calf. "And we need to talk," he knows you don't want to, that you'd rather bury it deep. Unfortunately for you, he also knows where that will lead you, and the sooner you put it into words for them the easier you'll be able to process it.
You take the bowl from him, agreeing to at least eat something. You couldn't remember when you last had gotten something nutritional, your stomach felt like a gaping hole that was trying to eat itself. You brought the spoon to your lips and savored the taste. Despite the limited options Johnny had still managed to get the things you liked.
"Don't wanna talk," you mumble between your bites, trying to ignore the look Simon is giving you by staring into your swirling soup. "There's nothin' to talk about," You swallow thickly, ever since you had been back you had been fighting the thoughts that urged to trap you. They were just waiting for you to trip in your careful state, they would pull you under the bridge, drown you into the water until you couldn't breathe through your panic.
Simon didn't let go of your leg, rubbing slow soothing circles into your calf. His full attention was on you, and there was nowhere to hide from the man in front of you and the man behind you. Johnny placed a soft kiss to your neck, and mumbled into your skin, "We know ye don' wanna, Leannan, but when ye came back ye were like a Ghost."
When you didn't answer they elected to let you eat in silence for a while longer, unaware to the emotional storm inside your body. You knew that you would have to make that report eventually, that they would hear about the details eventually. But actually, being met with the demand was something else entirely.
You didn't know if you could bear their reactions, the thought of them being disappointed in you made the anxiety roar. You didn't want them to realize that all the time they had spent being proud of you for your achievement had been wasted. That you were nothing of what you promised to be.
You only realized how shaky your hands had become again when you raised the spoon to take another bite. Simon let out a soft sigh, before taking the spoon and bowl from you so you didn't spill on yourself or Johnny. "Darling?" the question was laid bare for you, he gave you the opening to start talking, to confide in them like you always did.
Your hands fall to your lap, right along with your sight. You try to calm your own nerves, trying to rationalize the stirring thoughts in your head. After an elaborate breath, that is more like an exhausted sigh, you find your words. "It was supposed to be a simple op, and it was in the start, find the target and neutralize him," you start quietly, grasping your own hands together.
"But once we were there and set up, nothing went as planned," you lightly shake your head along to your words, "They knew we were coming and hunted us like dogs." You swallow thickly, noting how the shakiness had nestled into your voice. "I tried to reroute our objective; we tried getting out of there, but this was unlike anything I had ever been up against."
Johnny's hand came to encapsulate your own, stilling your shakiness and you freeze up. Feeling all to self-aware all of a sudden, how the attention was on you, as they listened like you were the most important thing in the world. It was both a warm and agonizing feeling, their protectiveness was nice, but it was also scary.
"We were so close to getting out but...they were faster and I...I couldn't..." you choked back on your own voice, feeling the hotness burn on the back of your eyes. "They were better..." you admitted in a whisper, "If I had taken a different route maybe we could have avoided the trap, maybe we could have gotten the drop on them before they got to my team but...."
The feeling of Simon's hand cupping your cheek made you halt, teary eyes meeting his in temporary shock. "It wasn't your fault love," the sincerity in his voice rocks something deep in you, "There was no way anyone could've known." You tilt your head to the side slightly, you wanted to argue, to tell him you could've done a thousand things better.
"Aye, ye acted just how ye were supposed to, ye kept a level head and guided the rest to the best of yer ability," Johnny briefly took over. His voice was hot on your ear, his quiet whispers just as reassuring as the hand on your cheek, "Ye did everything ye could, and ye survived because of it."
"But they didn't..." You sank further into Johnny, sniffling as you held his thumb inside the little cocoon, he made of both of your hands. "They died because of me," you try to argue, despite being grateful that they didn't seem mad you almost wanted them to lash out, to give you right, to let you feel like a monster.
"They didn't die because of you, they died in action, trying to complete the mission they were given," Simon's voice turned a tad harsh, the determination to get through to you all the more prominent. "They knew this was a possibility when they signed up, you did everything you could for them, and the way you make it up to them is to keep going," he told you sternly.
"I know what it's like, to have people fall under your command," he sighs, "S'never not tough, and it's all too easy to fall into the spiral of whose fault it was." You paid close attention to him as he spoke, he always had a captivating way of speaking, just like when he dished out orders, he commanded authority in his mere presence. "It's somethin’ that happens love, it's important to mourn and assess," he looks you directly in the eye, "But it's also important that you know, it makes you neither monster nor failure."
You never knew whether to love or hate the way he could read your brain like had he telepathy, or personal access to your every little fear and sorrow. "It doesn’t make it feel any better," you said quietly, tilting your head into his palm, nuzzling against his skin.
"I know" he puts the half-finished bowl on the nightstand, "Gonna hurt for a while, but we'll be here with you through it." He gave you a half smile, moving closer so he could place a kiss to your forehead. "We're not going anywhere, ain't that right Johnny?" he glances to the man behind you.
"Aye," Johnny's chest rumbles with a hum, his lips placing a trail of loving kisses over your neck. "Not gonna let those nasty thoughts get to ye," he whispers and slowly moves you as Simon directs. Johnny gets you on your side in the bed, your back pressed even further into his chest. Simon gets out of the bed but only for a brief moment. The lights turn off above you, and soon after the bed dips.
You sigh when you feel Simon's skin on your own, his lips find your cheek as he settles in with you and Johnny. His arm supporting both you and Johnny's heads, his other hand coming over you to hold onto the man behind you after moving your hair out of your face. Compressed between them like this always felt like heaven, the pressure they put on your body was grounding and reminded you that you weren't alone.
"Sleep now," Simon's voice rumbled, "We'll be here when you wake up, and we can try again."
They were always here for you, even when you didn't know you needed the extra support. They had worked with you for so long, you had changed a lot with them and for the better. You felt safe with them, no matter how many times you would fall, they would always be there to catch you and get you back on your feet.
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