#again you can obviously write whatever the fuck you want I’m not the boss of you I’m just pointing out sth that’s just. weird to me

[tragedykery]

not saying you absolutely cannot elaborate on ozai in fanfic but I do think it’s often. weird especially considering his place in the narrative which is. quite literally to be the Evil (tm) the protagonists need to defeat (mostly imperialism & child abuse). like there’s a difference between adding nuance to a villain and writing an uwu fluffy romance fic between said villain and his wife (whom he canonically abuses in the comics!) with zero critical thinking (and possibly accidentally becoming apologism for the things the villain symbolises)

[ateezthings]

Hiiii

Can u do a non idol strangers to lovers scenario for san or seonghwa (or honestly whoever u want) pls🤠❤️

And also dont listen to ur boss ur writing is amazing

A painful meet-cute

Pairings: non-idol!San x genderneutral reader

Warnings: reader getting hurt by accident, blood, medication, San being a slight asshole in the beginning

Word count: 1,4k

Songs to listen to while reading:

cxlt., nuver – rays of light

gibran alcocer – idea 22 (sped up)

amistat – keep your head up

pvris – anywhere but here

the native - time

It was still light out, when you left the office at 8 pm. The sun had been shining all day, so the air was warm, a light breeze dancing through the streets. Some would say it was the perfect summer day.

You had a very stressful day at work, rushing from one meeting to the next. You barely had time for a bathroom break or getting something to drink. It seemed every single coworker had a task for you. Needless to say, you felt drained and in dire need of some food and relaxation.

As you slowly dragged your feet towards the train station, people passed you by, most of them smiling and talking to their friends. What were they so happy about? For you, life recently was simply getting ready for work, working, or getting home from work. These people however seemed to just be enjoying the nice summer evening.

Maybe that was the problem, maybe you should do things again outside of work, that made you enjoy life again. As you boarded the train you couldn’t think of anything that you wanted to do, so you decided to just take a walk along the river. That used to calm you down a few years ago.

Watching the blueish-greyish body of water helped you relax a lot in a short period of time. You watched couples having  picknicks on the grass, people taking their dogs for walks, some were even working out. As you walked along the river you racked your brain for activities you used to enjoy: Reading, going to cute cafes, dancing, meeting friends for boba. All of it lost its appeal when you thought about doing it. You hadn’t realized how grey and dull your life had become.

It was time to make a change. But how could you go about it, when work took up such a big part of your day?

You didn’t have time to ponder any longer, as a strong force suddenly knocked you down, making you fall over, face first. You were so surprised, you didn’t have time to stop the fall. Next thing you knew your nose was being squished on the ground. A throbbing pain started to spread from the center of your face.

“Ow, fuck” You tried to lift yourself up into a seated position.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” When you looked up to where the voice came from, you were met with dark, wide-open eyes. The person was wearing a hat and a black mask.  

“Obviously not, idiot, watch where you’re going, man” You felt hot liquid running down your face. Of course this had to happen to you. Perfect end to the perfect day.

“I’m really really sorry, my friend and I were trying to see who could run faster, and I totally didn’t see you… Shit, your nose is really bleeding”. The guy reached his hand out to you.

With one motion you slapped his hand away. “No need, I can take care of myself”

You got up, careful not to let any blood drop onto your shirt and got a tissue out of your bag. You pressed it into your nostrils. The tissue was full of blood, when you looked at it.

“Listen, I again am so sorry, for running into you like that, but I’m kind of in a hurry, will you be okay?” You picked up genuine regret from the tone of their voice, you couldn’t believe the audacity though. “Ugh, whatever, just go back to where you came from.” And he did.

For the first time, you lifted your gaze to see who the person was. He looked like a modern day ninja, wearing black workout clothes under baggy shorts. There was no telling who he was, as he was already turned away from you and about 20 feet in front of you. He had a broad back though, you had to give him that. Why were all hot people jerks?

…

The next day, you went to the doctor to get your nose checked. It was still throbbing and you were in pain. It turned out to be only a bruise and you should be fine in a few weeks. The doctor gave you a prescription for some pain killers. When you went to the pharmacy to get them, there was a long line of people in front of you. Great, as if you hadn’t already suffered enough.

Alas, you stood in the queue as there was nothing else to do. You scrolled through Instagram for a while. Somehow you were getting a lot of depressed but relatable millennial content on your feed. Times like these really made you scared if social media apps could somehow read your thoughts. No, don’t keep thinking about that brain, can’t go into full existential crisis mode.

Finally, it was your turn to talk to the pharmacist and you handed her your prescription. She looked at it for a while and pressed a few keys on her keyboard. Then she turned to look at you. “I’m really sorry, but it seemed we currently don’t have the exact ones you’ve been prescribed. Can I get you different ones? They’re not as strong as the original ones, but we currently don’t have any other pain killers.”

After you paid for your lower level pain killers you rushed to get out of there. What you didn’t expect was the tall man standing right around the corner, deeply immersed in his phone. You almost ran into him, but were able to stop before anything bad happened. He, however dropped his phone and a little box in surprise.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t see you there” As you apologized, you looked him in the eyes. Those eyes seemed kind of familiar. Yeah, you had seen them before. It took a second before you realized that those were the eyes of the person who ran into you last night. “It’s you…”

Before you could think of what to say, your phone started ringing. You rushed to pick up the call, it was your boss. “Hello? Is everything alright?” Your boss told you that there had been a series of emergency e-mails being sent to your whole department by one of your most important clients. They couldn’t reach you but had an ‘urgent matter’ to discuss with you. And apparently an ‘urgent matter’ couldn’t wait another hour for you to get back from your doctor’s appointment.

You groaned as you hung up. The mystery man, you almost ran into a few moments ago, was gone. You looked around for him, but found only the little box on the floor he had dropped earlier. It was the exact brand of pain killers your doctor had prescribed you.

…

A little sweet treat after dinner was a non-negotiable to you. So while you browsed the candy isle at the nearest convenience store, you couldn’t decide on just one treat. With your basket of sugary heaven you made your way to the cashier. There was only one person in front of you.

“Oh no, I think I left my wallet and card at home” You heard the person in front of you say.

“Well, then how do you intend to pay?” The cashier person retorted. There were just two vitamin drinks on the scanning table.

You immediately felt sorry for him. You had once been in that situation and it was so awkward and uncomfortable. Back then no one helped you and you were forced to return your items, leaving you with no sweet treat after a hard day’s work.

“I’ll pay for that.” You moved to the front, putting your stuff on the table for the cashier to scan. You noticed the person in front of you staring at you and your enormous amount of candy. You couldn’t care less though, seeing as they were depended on you in this situation. After paying, you put your yield in your bag and made your way towards the exit.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” It was the guy for whom you had just paid for.

“Oh, don’t mention it, I was in that same situation a few weeks ago and no one was there to help me so I was happy to help.”

It was only after you both had exited the store that you looked at him properly. You saw the same broad shoulders, same dark eyes, same black mask on his face. “It’s you again?...”

“Hey, I’m San” He pulled down his face mask, giving you a smile, that sent waves of warmth through your entire body.

...

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

FOH/BOH pt 1/2 (M, cold)

I'm splitting this in two because it's going to be 2 fairly distinct parts. In this one, Elijah is sick - but I'll be honest, a lot of it is just Mark being introspective. I wanted to write out a little of his story, since my last story had a good amount of Matt's inner thoughts. Idk what else to say about this one, lol other than Elijah catches something from the servers and is his usual pissed off self about it. Next part will hopefully be out soon-ish. Hope you all like it :)

CW: male, cold, fever, light mess, contagion, coughing. 2.7k words.

FOH/BOH

As far as Matt was concerned, there were two types of people in this world: front of house, and back of house.

Matt didn’t believe in astrology; he thought the enneagram was stupid, hated personality tests, and nearly scoffed in Elijah’s face when he told the management team at Elliot’s they’d be analyzing management styles using one of those what-color-is-your-parachute tests during the slow season this year. He did, however, believe firmly, almost spiritually, in the FOH/BOH divide.

The differences, Matt knew, could be subtle or obvious, but they were always distinct.

“Elijahhh!” Greyson called from the kitchen at the top of his lungs. “We can all hear you from in here!”

The cooks whooped with laughter from their prep stations behind the line, and Matt bit his cheek to keep from joining them. Greyson turned towards him, a smirk painted on his face, and secured his hair at the top of his head with a sharpie while they waited for Elijah’s inevitable trudge into the kitchen.

When Elijah pushed through the kitchen doors, the cooks forced themselves into submission and strapped in for the dressing-down they knew was coming their chef’s way. Elijah walked straight to the prep table in the middle of the kitchen and made livid eye contact with Greyson, obviously ready to go to blows. Matt, entirely too close for comfort, took a tentative step towards the line to keep out of the path of destruction.

“Do you thingk,” Elijah said, his voice low and cracking, “that you could fucking cool it with the theatrics, just this once? Just for today? For mbe – hh – hhITZCH-ue! HTSHH-uh! HRRTSHH-ue! Hh-!”

Elijah was stuck in a sort of pre-sneeze purgatory for longer than Greyson had the patience for, apparently. “By all means,” Greyson said, leaning on the prep table with his head in one hand, “don’t stop on my behalf.”

The GM colored and lowered his arm from his face, casting daggers at the chef. “Do you really thingk it’s appropriate for us to fuckigg squabble around your staff?” Elijah asked, quiet enough that only Greyson and Matt could hear it. Greyson smiled, stood to his full height, and placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder.

“I do,” he said at full volume. “They’re not our real kids, it’s okay if they see mommy and daddy duke it out.”

The cooks roared once again, and Elijah flushed, clearly annoyed. “Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re on one today. Whatever. I have to go findish helping the servers set up for the night. Leave mbe out of your stupid little mood.”

“I’m on one because you have the server’s fuckin’ flu and you should be at home, not continuing the spread,” Greyson said to Elijah’s back as his boss started out the kitchen doors. “Mark is coming in in twenty minutes and you are leaving.”

Elijah didn’t turn back around, just flashed the kitchen the finger as he walked out into the dining room. Greyson turned towards his sous and rolled his eyes.

“Passive aggressive fuck,” Greyson said, picking his knife up and turning towards the line cooks behind him. “Don’t worry, guys, we still love you all, mommy and daddy just get frustrated with one another sometimes.”

Another round of laughter from the cooks. Matt shook his head, smiling until they all heard Elijah once again from the dining room – “HRRESHHH-ue!”

Greyson smiled devilishly at Matt, then his cooks, and held up his hand. “One, two,” he mouthed to the cooks, holding up the corresponding fingers. When he got to three, he pointed to the swinging doors that lead to the dining room. The whole kitchen, in tandem, called towards them.

“Bless you, Elijah.”

Within seconds, Elijah’s strained voice answered. “Oh, fuck off all of you.”

This time, the line cooks nearly collapsed with laughter. Greyson turned towards Matt, grinning ear to ear. “Think he heard us?” he asked. Matt couldn’t help but join in on the laughter this time.

***

At first, Mark hadn’t been sure that he bought Matt’s whole front of house person/back of house person bullshit.

“People have layers, babe,” Mark had said, coursing his fingers through Matt’s hair while they ignored the movie that was playing on TV. “No one is just… some caricature of ‘kitchen’ or ‘dining room’. This isn’t The Bear.”

“But that’s the thing, baby, it kind of is The Bear,” Matt said, sitting up straight and looking his boyfriend in the eye. “Did you not relate to The Bear? I don’t think this is going to work if you didn’t relate to The Bear, I’m not gonna lie to you.”

“I mean, yeah, I did but… I don’t know. I want to be more than just my job, y’know?” Mark pulled Matt back to laying on his lap – Matt allowed himself to be pulled.

“This isn’t about your job, it’s about your personality,” Matt explained. “Not everyone has worked in a restaurant, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a front or back of house person.”

“I’m so lost, honey. I thought this was about restaurants.”

“No, it’s about people.”

“Maybe you should look into getting your GED,” Mark said, elbowing Matt playfully. “So you can go to college for, like, sociology or something.”

“Oh fuck you,” Matt said, not unkindly. “You have to know what I mean. C’mon. You’re telling me you’ve never met someone and gone, ‘oh, that person’s totally a kitchen person’.”

“I can genuinely say I have not,” Mark said, placing a kiss on the top of Matt’s head. “Your mind is an enigma.”

They’d dropped it at that point, but Mark hadn’t stopped thinking about it all week. He’d thought about it when he’d talked to his dad on the phone and he asked Mark whether he’d gotten his oil changed lately, but didn’t say ‘I love you’ when they hung up – man, he’s such a back of house guy. He’d thought about it when he’d bought a coffee and the barista asked him about the entirety of his college career in England while a line formed out the door behind him – never met such a front of house person in my life. He’d especially thought about it at work, where the servers and bussers loudly complained all week about being sick.

“Maaaark,” Riley, their lead server, whined to him one day. “I feel like fuckin shiiiit.”

“Well, the shift is 85% over,” Mark replied as he replaced the silverware on an empty table. “Do you think you can make it another hour?”

Riley had pouted, sniffled, and shrugged. “I guess,” she said, opening her server book. “But, like, I’ve already made my money tonight, can’t you just cut me early?”

Typical front of house, Mark had thought to himself. So maybe Matt had been right; maybe there were just two types of people in this world. The problem was, despite having been ‘front of house’ most of his adult life, he didn’t know if he really… belonged there.

Mark had, essentially, fallen into working in restaurants; he’d been an English major in college – which basically guaranteed your life to veer towards serving tables or shaking cocktails – and when he’d graduated, he hadn’t felt the pull towards teaching or grad school or any of the typical ‘English major’ careers his friends had chosen. Instead, he kept his serving job; eventually, the resort that he worked at offered him a banquet captain position, which he did until he realized catering made him want to stab both eyes out with a cocktail fork. When he moved to New York on a whim, Mark had been sure he’d apply to grad school, or look for a copy-writing position, or apply to be a publisher’s assistant – but he didn’t. Instead, he found himself dialing the number on a flyer in the window of a soon-to-be-opened restaurant near the apartment he shared with four other recent college grads.

“Future home of Elliot’s restaurant, this is Elijah speaking,” the voice on the other end of the number answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” Mark had said. “I was wondering if you were hiring any front of house positions?”

It turned out that Mark was the first person to call Elijah in search of a job. Despite his only being twenty-one at the time, and despite the fact that he had no managerial experience, Elijah hired him on the spot to be the front of house manager.

“You have a good vibe,” Elijah said when they met at a coffee shop for Mark’s interview. “That’s all I really care about.”

And then suddenly, somehow, seven years had passed. He’d never found a good enough reason to leave Elliot’s; he was paid well, Elijah let him take tips when he had to cover for servers or bartenders, and the work, while demanding, felt mostly fun. He’d never felt like a front of house person, he was just… a person who worked in the front of house. Sometimes, Mark thought, he didn’t know what kind of person he was at all. A person who things just happened around. A background person. A person that no one could say much about, other than he had a good vibe.

That is, until Matt.

“Hi honey,” Matt said as Mark pushed through the back doors into the kitchen. Mark smiled wide when he saw that Matt was alone in the back kitchen; he pulled his boyfriend in for a long kiss, which Matt returned greedily.

“Hi,” Mark said, finally pulling away. “How have things been here this morning?”

Before Matt could answer, they heard a huge, “HRRTSHH-ue!” from the front kitchen. Mark whipped his head towards the sound, then back to Matt.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” Mark said. Matt pressed his lips together, unwilling to be the bearer of bad news.

“Mbark,” Elijah said, rounding the corner with a hand held over the bottom half of his face, “you’re here, great.” The GM yanked a paper towel from the holder on the wall next to Matt and used it to wipe his nose before gesturing Mark to follow him, “Let’s go over the ndight, mbeet me in the office.”

“Right behind you,” Mark murmured to Elijah’s back. Before he followed his boss, he threw Matt a pained look, which his boyfriend returned with a mouthed, I’m sorry.

When the servers were sick, they were annoying because they complained constantly. They called out at the slightest provocation, they glommed onto one another and spread their illnesses like wildfire, and they always ended up sending their shit into the kitchen when one of them inevitably slept with a cook after a long night of drinking. When Elijah was sick, though, it was annoying for a whole other set of reasons.

Mostly, if he was honest, it was the blatant denial that he found obnoxious. “So, tondight shouldn’t be too heinous,” Elijah said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand as he sat at the shared desk. “It’s tomborrow we really have to – tuh… hhITZSHH-ue! HTSHH-ue!” Elijah folded in on himself to sneeze away from Mark, blearily rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, and attempted to continue. “To worry about,” he finished, coughing into the back of his hand.

“Uh huh,” Mark said, taking in the state of his boss. Elijah had been quiet yesterday, and quick to annoyance, but despite knowing the man for almost a decade, Mark still wasn’t able to decipher between ‘quiet, easily annoyed’ Elijah and ‘getting sick’ Elijah. The two were indecipherable from one another.

“Don’t sit too close, Mark,” Greyson’s voice called from the prep station near the line. Both Mark and Elijah looked over at the chef, who was butchering New York’s and smirking to himself. “He’s sick as a dog.”

“Greyson,” Elijah called, his voice cracking on the word. “Could you combe in here for a minute, please?”

Greyson rolled his eyes, but put down his knife and walked toward the office all the same. “Yes, dear?” he asked, toweling off his hands and leaning on the office’s door frame. “How can I help you? Some tea, maybe, or perhaps a drive home?”

Elijah stood, pulled Greyson into the office, and shut the door. “Stop fuckigg patronizing mbe in front of the staff,” he growled, poking a finger into the chef’s chest. Greyson huffed out a little laugh and slapped a hand on Elijah’s forehead.

“I’ll stop,” he said, “when you no longer have a hundred-and-two fever.”

There they stood, the two ultimate testaments to Matt’s theory, duking it out in front of a clearly-forgotten Mark. Greyson, the gregarious, heart on his sleeve, back-of-house guy who would just as soon scream at you as he would give you the shirt off his back, and Elijah, the subdued stay-together-for-the-kids front of house man, who knew everything about everyone and cared so hard he couldn’t see anyone else caring about him in return. Yin and yang. Front and back. Which are you, Mark? he thought to himself as the standoff continued.

“Mark,” Greyson said, breaking the spell, “can you handle tonight by yourself out front?”

Mark blinked, first at his boss, then at Greyson, and finally found his voice. “Y-yeah, I mean, of course I can,” he said.

“It’s a busy ndight, Grey, I don’t waahhh – ETSCHH-zue! HhhNGTSHH-uhh!” Elijah wrenched to the side to keep from sneezing in Greyson’s face – much to the detriment of Mark.

“Yikes,” Greyson muttered, watching Mark cringe against the spray Elijah directed, unknowingly, into his face. His boss flushed bright red when he realized what he’d done.

“Fuckigg shit,” Elijah murmured, yanking a tissue out of the box and handing it, lamely, to Mark. “Fugck, Mbark I’mb so sorry I didn’t meee – ETSCHH-zue!” This time, Elijah tented both hands over his face to keep from having a repeat of that incident. Greyson took his hand back then, shrunk away from the GM.

“Maybe, uh, give us a signal next time?” Greyson said, an attempt to break the tension. Mark would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel so thoroughly...infected.

“Would’ve if I could’ve,” Elijah grumbled, pulling another tissue out and blowing his nose. “Mbark, I’m so -”

“It’s fine, boss,” Mark said, standing. “But, um, I do think Chef is right – maybe you should go home, sleep it off?”

Elijah swallowed, pain evident on his face, and finally gave up the charade. “Alright,” he said, curt. “Finde. I’ll go.” He turned back towards Mark. “You’re sure you’ve got this?”

“Of course, boss,” Mark said. Elijah nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Take sombe Emergen-C or something, okay?”

“Okay, boss,” Mark said. Elijah coughed painfully into the sleeve of his shirt, grabbed his backpack, and signed out of the computer.

“I’ll drive you home,” Greyson offered, but Elijah shook his head.

“Thanks, mother, but I think I can handle a five-mbinute drive with a cold,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Just mbake sure your guys are ready for tomorrow ndight – it’s going to be a doozy.”

“And that’s how we know it’s really time for you to leave, when you start using words like ‘doozy’,” Greyson said, pushing Elijah out the door. “Go. You’ve infected enough people today.”

Finally, Elijah did as he was told and left. Mark and Greyson stood in the office avoiding eye contact with each other for what felt like a long moment.

“You wanna run to the store and get some Emergen-C?” Greyson asked, breaking the awkward silence. Mark laughed a little.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling a hand down his face, “I guess I probably should.”

On his way out the back door, Matt caught the back of Mark’s shirt. “The fuck is going on up there?” he asked, confusion written all over his face. “Where are you going? Did Elijah go home?”

Mark turned and embraced Matt, then pulled back to offer a small smile. “Elijah went home,” he said. “And I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Matt asked again. Mark just sighed and gave his boyfriend a defeated look.

“I’m going to try and ward off the stupid fucking front of house flu.”

[komoreibi]

Hiii can I ask for bonten sanzu x reader with enemies//lovers trope something like chuuya and dazai...(if you ship them)

i haven’t really watched bsd but i’ll do my best to write a drabble! hope you enjoy it anon <3

(it ended more as friends -> enemies -> lovers tho… ) ( tw for drug mention ya )

ーーー

“sanzu haruchiyo… i was really hoping to see you behind bars, not leaving them,” you muttered as you signed off on the papers to check him out of the holding cell he had been occupying for the past two days.

“you were hoping to see me? i’m flattered, detective.” the pink-haired man gave a sly grin as he saw how tight your grip on your pen was.

“try flirting with me again and i’ll personally be warranting your arrest.” you sighed and slammed your pen down before turning both over to him so he could sign his name as well. “i don’t understand how you manage to evade proper persecution every damn time despite everyone knowing you’re bonten’s number two.”

this time, he had been arrested for the sale and possession of drugs in a club in kabukicho, but after a chemical analysis of the white powder in the sachets found in his pockets, they just turned out to be powdered sugar. or at least, that’s what the forensics team claimed with pale faces and shaky voices. and even if bonten was obviously known as a criminal syndicate, they also had too many fronts and made use of plenty legal loopholes that hid their practices so one could never catch them.

sanzu merely shrugged and uncapped the pen before signing his name. “and i can’t believe that you used to belong to the tokyo manji gang… yet here you are, some straight-laced detective trying to take down your old boss,” he said as he handed back the documents and pen before leaning in close, the back of his mullet falling over the more he leaned, almost brushing your face, “be glad that i still consider you an old friend, or i would have personally ended you for trying to get to mikey.”

you leaned back in your chair to try and get away from him but you were half-certain you only looked more vulnerable to him.

but how could you help it? his beautiful grey eyes seemed to be staring past your eyes and into your soul, making a threat to the deepest parts of your being.

you quickly stood up and turned away to file the documents.

“consider me a friend all you want, but i sure don’t think of you the same way.”

the only sound that replied to you was the humming of the air-con in the room along with the sound of your papers rustling. wait… did you just put your life in danger?

you quickly turned around to say, “we were friends in the past though. i mean… it’s just a little difficult for someone like me to call you a friend now!”

but then you saw sanzu’s shit eating grin. “really now?”

“ugh, whatever!” you had never met such a chatty criminal. it was especially strange considering the sanzu haruchiyo you knew was someone who rarely spoke up in the tokyo manji gang. you probably wouldn’t have even known his name if it weren’t for the fact you were assigned to his division.

but it wasn’t unwelcome. in fact, you quite enjoyed seeing him again and knowing that he hadn’t died in the process of whatever sketchy work he was doing. after all, you two were once considered ‘close’. though, you still wanted to be the one to capture him yourself.

“anyways, it’s time for me to get going.” sanzu grabbed his duffel bag that he arrived here with and headed towards the door. “see you next time, detective.”

“fuck you.”

“i’m free tomorrow night if you want.”

“just get out of here already! if the next time i see your face and it isn’t in prison, i’ll personally kick your ass!”

“looking forward to it~”

you couldn’t help the reddening of your ears.

[elliesbelle]

belle what the fuck happened??? are you okay???

long story short (prob won’t be short, knowing me oops):

tw: drug overdose, suicide, hospitalization mentions

work has been one of the biggest stressors in my life lately. i’ve been getting relentlessly harassed and bullied by a coworker (and my boss has done very little in regards to it), and something happened the other day with an extremely cruel parent of one of my kids, and it triggered something in me.

i was already having a difficult time the night before in regards to my ex (had a late night arguing with him and there were many countless unkind words said about me and the kind of person i am), and i was already in an incredibly bad place, so the work thing just pushed me to the edge. so i left work early, purchased a lot of cold medicine, went home, and took it all on top of sleeping pills and other stuff i can’t remember. said goodbye to my loved ones before i eventually went to sleep.

after that, a lot of it was a blur, so what i’m relaying right now is either from the few times i was lucid or from what other people have recalled to me.

live-in ex had been driving around trying to find me after my friends at work alerted her that i’d left suddenly, but she eventually made her way back to our apartment where she found me cold in our bed, and so she called 911. she tried rousing me but she was unsuccessful. paramedics eventually came and they kept trying to wake me up and eventually brought me to the emergency room.

i’m not sure what they tried to do to me in there, but obviously they tried to flush all the drugs out or whatever. i remember very little during this time, just that they had to cut my clothes off of me and i couldn’t stay awake for long. live-in ex was there the whole time, but they didn’t let her in the room until my mom got there and declared her as family (they wouldn’t let her past the waiting area bc we’re not related, so my mom had them list her as my spouse so she could be with me).

eventually, they placed me in the ICU where i was placed on bed rest (literally was not allowed to get off my bed because there were at least like, five or six wires attached to me) the whole time. a nurse has to be in the same room as me at all times, so they rotate these different nurses in 12 hour shifts, apart from the regular lead nurse who does hourly rounds to check on me. thankfully, they allowed visitors, so live-in ex stayed with me for most of it (so did my mom and my dad briefly, but they’re not as important). when they deemed me “healthy” enough (basically they wanted to make sure i didn’t lose my liver or something), they moved me into a regular hospital room.

been in here for the past day or so now. i can still have visitors, so live-in ex, both my parents, and my baby sister have all visited me. one of my coworkers who i’m close to also surprised me with a visit (which was so sweet, i was trying not to cry). they’re thankfully allowing me to have my phone and all (i’d be going insane if not), but i’ve been mostly sleeping honestly.

i tried asking them to not admit me into the psych ward cause i hate being in the looney bin, but i don’t have much of a choice because of the “severity” of my attempt. tried to opt for outpatient, but gonna be put in inpatient whether i like it or not, so i’ll be spending christmas here in the hospital alone unfortunately. oh well.

oops, yeah, not long story short lmao. anyway, sorry for worrying y’all. i really was not as lucid as i believed i was at the time that i’d made all those cryptic posts. i wanted to spend some time writing while i’m in here, but my emotional state has been so raw recently and the past few days being in here has caused me to be a lot more blocked in regards to that. my writing is tied to my emotions, so i won’t be able to write for y’all until i can process my emotions better again.

i don’t necessarily plan to abandon y’all, but if i’m slightly less active on here than usual, please understand why.

love you all.

[soulfungai]

In My Own Right

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Synopsis

Yino has to deal with more of her boyfriends toxic entitled bullshit. Crazy, right? One day, she’s just had enough. She doesn’t go to work due to family issues and stays at her moms house. In her own right, this was perfectly fine.

Fandom

Bsd

Notes

Okay but Yino is my favorite bsd OC I’ve made. I’m not a huge fan of BSD, yeah. But I felt like making something anyway.

[boyfriend]

Hello? Can u get me some ramen this afternoon?? Hanging out with my best friends yk. Bye.

[Yino]

Okay, sure.

3:00am

Who the fuck does this. What boyfriend doesn’t come home, claims to be talking with his friends and then acts as if he’s there for you? Well that was Yino’s boyfriend. A entitled, spoiled, cheating, bratty, selfish jerk. To be honest, she didn’t even know why she responded. It was 3:00am. She should be getting sleep, but instead she’s worrying over him. It was stupid, really.

But one thing is for sure that he’s not being honest. It’s been three days in a row, he says he’s having our with friends, which Yino believes but for three days? In a row? Nothing was on his Instagram either. Whenever he was with his friends, they were always on Instagram posting there cool fun times. But right now? Nope. Yino could just text his friends, and ask, “Hey is xxx over there?” And see what they said. But then again, she didn’t want to disturb them with what felt like accusations.

Yino changed his name form boyfriend to “xxx”. Just his name. Plain and simple. It felt nice, she never really felt like someone loved in this relationship. She never felt like his girlfriend. So she never really saw him as her boyfriend. For a while, Yino would just sit there contemplating what she should do. She was kind of fed up.

7:00am

[Yino]

Heading back to my moms place. Don’t text me.

You have blocked this user

7:02am

Yino stares at the text on the screen. She really did it. She really blocked him. It felt refreshing. Not having to listen to her phone ding, since he constantly texted her to get him things that he obviously didn’t need. Like when he asked for a bra and the exact measurements. Why did he need that? It wasn’t even her size. Whatever, it was already clear to Yino that he was cheating.

Yino left for her moms place at 12:00pm. Not knowing and not caring if her boyfriend saw her text.

Once she arrived at her mothers home, she felt at peace. For once, her boyfriend wasn’t dinging her phone with demands or complaints, for once she didn’t have to hear his bratty and whiny voice, for once, she could focus on herself. She texted her coworker.

[Yino]

Hey, not gonna be available for work to day, I have a couple of family problems and I’m out of town. Will be back tomorrow.

12:30pm

Yino saw a reaction with the emoji “👍” and knew that her coworker saw it. Her boss messaged her telling her that he’d see her tomorrow.

To be honest, the only thing that really changed was that her boyfriend wasn’t here. She didn’t realize just how peaceful her life was without him.

Notes

Enjoyed writing this! I keep changing my writing formatting (sorry!) because there are just so many different ones! But I like this one a lot currently. So I’ll keep it! Anyway, see you next time when I randomly get motivated to write.

© CORPSE.

Made Jun. 15 2024

[tnerb90]

Like the legend of the Phoenix...

Today is the first day of the rest of your life...

Yes, it’s true. It’s been almost 2 years since my last post and here we go again. It feels like Into the Spiderverse. Let’s start from the beginning one more time....I wanted to create a new profile and start fresh, acting like none of the previous failures happened. I’m still tempted to, even as I write. 

But here we go again. I read through each and every post again, looking for patterns. Looking for strengths. Looking for lessons basically. So what happened? A fuckton of different factors, I’m sure. Underlying stress was a big one. I didn’t really acknowledge it much in past posts because I didn’t realize how drastic it was until I started my current job, outside of counseling. Since 2019 when I started...global pandemic. Fired from CHILL. Took 2 jobs that I flamed out on, including a DOH investigation and dealt with that for several months. More?... All the change at PV... Jessie leaving. Jone being fired. Peggy leaving. Desiree taking over as my boss.... also promotion to PHP Manager... burning the fuck out. Changing buildings.... A lot of stress. Looking back, it’s such a relief that I’m not there anymore. I quit PV in April 2022, so it’s been nearly a year now. Working at Conquest now obviously. From early on, I could tell this was a much better fit for me, and it continues to be. Especially stress-wise.... 

But the stress stuff was just underlying it all. Looking at my habits themselves, I can see a lot of areas for improvement... namely, the fad diet thing. I mean, I said it from day 1 that I’ve tried them all and nothing’s worked. So of course, I continue the same method again and failed again. Sure, I lost weight each time. But how sustainable was it? Obviously not very. Because I never once got below 300. Idk if that’s a mental barrier or what. But it sucks. I was doing so well. Got to 300 then gained it back + more. Then got to 302 or whatever...of course, I gained it back+more. Again. A -fuckin-gain.... Looking back, even though it felt like I was onto something (again, losing weight wasn’t the issue, I was doing it). But the method was unsustainable. Panicking over whether beans are too high carb. Sugar free italian ice...corn... chili...apples and honey on rosh hashana. Like come on man. You were doing great! Why was I so worked up about being perfect. It was such an unhealthy all-or-nothing mindset. I felt that if I wasn’t perfect, it was a failure. So one slip easily leads to “fuck it” I can’t do it! Or fuck it! Today’s ruined anyway, might as well start fresh tomorrow. Or monday. Or.... next year. Idk.

Ok, stress. Trying the same old methods/mindset. What else? I’m sure I started smoking again right after the last post. It was late July, early Aug when I got my card. So I’m sure that + the “promotion” and the shitshow that followed did it for me. 

What else?

I’m burying the lede here. The biggest thing I’ve learned so far this time, is I need help... I always do this shit alone. Because I’m afraid to be a burden on others. Or afraid that if I’m accountable to someone I can’t quit and ghost on myself. 

Okay. So those were the major lessons taken from a negative side. Now the positives.... in one of the previous posts, I had the eureka moment that should have always been obvious, but I guess I was in denial or something. I have a fucking eating disorder. BED? Sure. Regardless of the diagnosis, I overeat. Not just overeat. I eat to soothe myself. I eat as a coping mechanism. I can’t believe it wasn’t as obvious my whole life. Like wow. I was stressed AF. I ate. Then I was at peace on the couch. What a fucking concept. Really hard puzzle to figure out. 

(Sidebar- another negative I forgot to mention. I was so harsh on myself. I beat myself up for every little detail, mistake, craving, etc. so maybe I’ll trying being easier on myself, not bees a sarcastic ass like in the previous paragraph.)

Ok. Strengths. I understand now that I was using food to cope. It’s a huge development for me. Like Rogers said, now that I accept it, I can change it. Another thing positive, is I was journaling! I had an outlet! That was awesome. And apparently it’s still beneficial for me to look back on and learn from myself. My mindset. etc.  

So overall, I couldn’t handle my stress. I was using food to cope with that stress. I was being perfectionistic, all-or-nothing about it. I was being harsh on myself. Another thing I forgot to mention was how concerned I was at times with what others may have thought. So again, doing it alone. Hiding it from others. Ironically, I think I did that in order to feel like I wasn’t doing it “for them”. If I do it alone without telling anyone, I’m obviously doing it for myself right? Nah. I need support. Help. Accountability. All of it. And on my own, what did I do? Intermittent fasting. Keto. IF again...counting cals... keto again... Through these past few years, I was also so paralyzed by fear. I didn’t know what to do. I kept failing. I didn’t know what to do that would work... it was really scary for a while. I felt I needed bariatric surgery. I saw no hope otherwise. And the price was of course out of reach.... 

And here we are. March 1, 2023. Another do-over. But what else can I do? Stop trying? Give up? No. Like the legend of the phoenix, all ends with beginnings. So again, I rise and try again. Fall down 7 get up 8. To be continued in my next post above.

[tailsrevane]

[movie review] teenage mutant ninja turtles: out of the shadows (2016)

there are still some infuriating things about this, but it inherited nearly all of them from the first movie and it's just so much better on the whole. and i mean that in basically every aspect of the movie. this really did actually feel like a ninja turtles movie for the vast majority of its runtime. not one of the best ninja turtles movies by any stretch of the imagination, but this is still significant progress.

again this is just me reading between the lines, but bay’s influence seems much less pronounced in this movie. i mean obviously there are some things that are baked in that can’t be easily changed like the overall design of the turtles and splinter, but they did what they could to mitigate that. the turtles’ designs are still pretty awful but it’s clear that some effort was made to soften them. splinter in particular clearly had a lot of work done on him, though he still doesn’t look good. but in both cases, at least they look… less bad? i’ll take less bad.

and there were also some things they just wholesale changed. like i love the turtles’ vehicle being constructed out of a garbage truck instead of that weird golf cart thing they had at the end of the first movie. and shredder just has regular armor and a helmet that looks… well, kind of like a shredder helmet! it is frustrating that he doesn’t put it on until literally right before he gets betrayed by krang, but whatever. i’ll take all of this over the cgi monstrocity he was in the previous movie. he’s actually much more memorable in this one than he was in the first one despite being a fall guy instead of the main villain!

in fairness, out of the shadows did make some rather serious missteps that were not forced by its predecessor. the entire subplot with the turtles’ infighting just felt unbelievably unearned, poorly written, and just fizzled out instead of actually being resolved. and having some of them want to turn into humans in the first place is just the height of antifun in this reviewer’s humble opinion. i mean, look at the sonic the hedgehog movie if you want an example of how to show a character experiencing profound loneliness of the same kind without ever implying that the way to fix that would be to stop being what he is.

having casey jones be a cop is just… probably the most thoroughly wrongheaded way i can possibly imagine writing him? it’s frustrating, because i actually love stephen amell and there are a few moments of brilliance from him where i found myself thinking, “wow i really wish he were playing casey jones instead of this fucking cop who is also named casey jones for some reason.” like, it wasn’t pitch-perfect casting or anything, but he totally could have pulled it off.

i know i said bay’s influence seems significantly curtailed here, and it does, but it’s not like… gone gone? the design of krang’s suit and the midair construction of the technodrome both feel like some transformers-ass shit and both play heavily into the final boss battle of the movie, so, you know. but it still wasn’t shot like a transformers movie! like, i was totally able to follow everything that was happening and there were plenty of neat little character beats within it. it still felt very turtley for the most part. and honestly, given all the other stuff this movie got right, it’s kind of whatever?

speaking of those things. this movie stays with the turtles so much more, omg. and i feel like despite her screentime being considerably curtailed, april actually makes more meaningful contributions to the movie’s plot and is treated with a great deal more respect? yeah, there are a few obligatory moments of her using her sex appeal to her advantage, but that’s just the thing. she’s very intentionally using it to gain an edge, it’s not just the camera leering at her ass for like 30 uninterrupted seconds in the middle of an action scene. no, i’m not trying to say that this is #feminism, but it’s still a damn sight better than what we got in the first movie. and like, just look at her interactions with vern. she basically bullies him into helping them instead of having to plead with him, and she just brushes off all his attempts to flirt with her instead of either being oblivious or having to roll her eyes and just go with it.

but by far the best thing about this movie, and the main reason i have a fairly uncomplicatedly positive opinion of it, is bebop and rocksteady. they are so good, you guys!! i love their bromance (and frankly, i ship it), i love their exuberance, i love that they’re fucking into being transformed??? like, they think it’s awesome??? ugh, it’s so damn refreshing!!! seriously, they are easily the best thing about this movie, and the rather frustrating fact that no other film version of this franchise has ever included them kind of pushes this across the finish line as a movie i have genuinely positive feelings about.

no, it’s not perfect. no, i didn’t expect it to be. but i enjoyed watching it, and for like probably 75% of its runtime i felt like i was actually watching a ninja turtles movie, and i just had absolutely no reason to expect that after how awful its predecessor was.

b-rank

[buckyownsmylife]

You and I - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer

Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick,  laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex

Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill

A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar​ for giving this a read for me!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.

I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.

Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.

There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.

I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.

Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.

I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.

I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.

The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.

Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.

“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.

Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.

Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.

My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.

I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.

With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.

“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.

“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”

Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”

I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.

Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.

“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.

“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.

“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”

The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.

I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.

“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.

“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.

Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.

“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.

“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.

“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.

“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.

“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…

“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.

“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.

“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.

“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.

The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.

“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.

“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.

“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.

Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”

He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”

Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.

“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”

“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.

“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.

“No.” It was all the permission he needed.

“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.

It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”

Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”

“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.

“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”

Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.

My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.

“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?

“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.

“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.

“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.

I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.

“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”

[multifandomfanficss]

The Boss

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Fem!Reader

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Request: “the reader is really really mad at Adrian because he told her that he was "the boss" there (like on a mission, let's say) so she (or gn, whatever you want) becomes all cold towards him and submits to him in an exaggerated way and Adrian doesn't know what to do to fix it”

Thank you to @violetrainbow412-blog for the request!

Warnings: Guns, Injury, Wound Care

A/N: I had so much fun writing this! Just a reminder my requests are open for Peacemaker characters!! I will also accept certain Freddie Stroma characters (as long as I’ve seen whatever it is I’m writing for). Speaking of Freddie Stroma, I couldn’t resist adding a quote from Extraterrestrial in the last couple lines because I got those vibes when I read the request. If you haven’t seen it and you don’t mind gore you should totally watch it. Hope you enjoy! ❤️🧜‍♂️❤️

“Alright. I’ll go left towards the butterflies and you go around back to-“ Adrian starts to order you around.

“Wait, why do you get to give the orders?” You interrupt.

“Because I’m the boss.” He says and it comes out of his mouth so easily. He seems happy about it, almost proud.

“And who made you the boss?” You ask.

“Life. I’ve been doing this way longer than you. I’m obviously better.” He lets slip.

“You’re obviously better?” You repeat back to him.

“I-I didn’t mean that I-“ He starts to ramble when he notices you’re upset.

“No, you definitely meant it. That’s the thing with you, Vig. You always mean it. You have no filter.” You spit back at him angrily.

“Hey, watch out-“ You pull out your gun and shoot the butterfly stalking up to you out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t need his warning. You had seen it coming. Because you’re good at what you do. You try to ignore him, going around the back to finish the job.

“Where are you going?” He questions.

“I’m going to finish the fucking job, your highness.” You say, your voice laced with anger.

The job had been pretty easy. You hadn’t spent too long in the field before you were easing back to the van. The trip back to headquarters was silent.

“I don’t want to ruin perfectly good silence, but is there a reason Thing 1 and Thing 2 aren’t talking?” John asks.

“I’m sorry. The Boss didn’t give me permission to speak.” You say before closing your mouth again.

“Dude, are you guys into some kinky shit?” You hear Chris whispers to Adrian. You kick Chris in the shin, giving him a death glare. For once Adrian keeps him mouth shut. The rest of the ride back is silent. The rest of the team picked up on the tension and decided silence was probably the best way to go.

When you get out of the van you begin to storm off into headquarters until you hear Adrian’s voice.

“Hey (Y/N), can you help me unload the van?” He asks. You spin around on your heel and walk back to the van with a fake smile plastered on your face.

“At your service, Sir.” You say in a fake British accent with a curtsy.

“Okay I get your mad at me, but why are you speaking in a British accent now?” He says, obvious frustration in his voice.

“I thought you wanted to be the boss. I’m just your humble servant.” You act all innocent, dropping the accent and picking up a bag of equipment. You give him a salute before walking like a small child imitating a soldier back into headquarters.

It had been a long week of doing everything Adrian said and him getting extremely frustrated. You stood in the hallway of headquarters. You could hear Adrian talking to Chris in the next room over.

“Man, I don’t know what to do.” Adrian starts.

“You’re living every guy’s dream. She’ll do whatever you want.” Chris laughs.

“But she’s angry all the time. Plus I don’t want her to do everything for me. I miss when she acted like a person and not my robot servant. I miss her.” Adrian sighs. You start to feel bad.

“How do I fix this?” He asks.

“I don’t know. She’s your girlfriend.” Chris responds before walking out the door. You stay silent in the hallway until you hear both of them exit, leaving you alone in the building, or so you thought. You sigh, leaning against the wall. You turn your head when you hear footsteps approaching.

“What is going on with you two?” Leota asks. You bring your hand to your head, running your fingers through your hair.

“I don’t know.” You sigh.

“It’s just that…He said he was better than me so he was the boss in the field and he’s Adrian so he obviously meant it and it really pissed me off.” You explain.

“I don’t think he didn’t mean it. I just think maybe he meant it in a different way than you took it.” She tries to reason with you. You sigh again.

“You’re probably right and I’m so fucking tired of this shit. I hate being mad at him.” You confess.

“Then don’t be. Keey and I have gotten into a lot of stupid arguments since I joined this task force, but we’re getting through them. Doing this job is hard and if you don’t have somebody you trust to go home to at the end of the day it’s even harder.” She frowns. Suddenly your issues with Adrian feel very small. She’s right. You need to fix this. You’ll talk to him after the mission.

After the last butterfly was killed you smiled. You had broken into another distribution facility similar to the one you had busted last week. This mission was a little harder than your previous and you were more than happy to go home and reconcile things with your boyfriend. That was until you heard a gun being cocked. You turned to find one more butterfly with a shotgun. It was aimed for Adrian. You ran to him, pushing him out of the way, just in time to be shot with the series of small pellets. You were knocked to the ground. You watch as Adrian angrily shoots the butterfly in the head with his own gun, letting out three shots.

“Dude, I think he’s dead.” Chris pushes Adrian’s arm down.

“Right.” He says before kneeling on the ground to take you in his arms. He rips off his mask to get a better look at you.

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“The guards always go down before the queen.” You let out a laugh before it turns into a cough. A little red liquid sprinkles from your mouth.

“(Y/N)…” His voice trails off.

“Come on. We have to go. Now.” Harcourt orders. Now there’s a boss. Adrian lifts you in his arms and you squeeze his shoulder trying to ignore the pain in your abdomen. He holds your tightly in the van. Not so tight that it hurts, but tight enough that you feel grounded to the earth. It’s almost like he knows that if he lets go you could slip away. He’s silent the whole ride, like he doesn’t quite know what to say.

The wound isn’t too deep so you decide to skip the hospital, opting to go back to headquarters for John to take out the pellets and patch you up. When you arrive Adrian quickly carries you upstairs to the futon where Judomaster used to lay. This has now become the team’s makeshift hospital bed. You whine when you feel your body separate from Adrian’s.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He promises, taking your hand in his and using his other hand to play with your hair in a soothing manner. You’re not sure if it’s to calm you or him, but either way it seems to be working for the both of you. You squeeze his hand as John pulls each individual pellet from your skin. Adrian quietly says affirmations through the entire process.

Once you’re bandaged up you and Adrian both doze off at some point, you on the futon, him in the chair next to you. You’re still holding hands. When you wake up he’s gone. He’s quickly back to the room, carrying a glass of water.

“Here, drink this. You lost a lot of blood. John said you need to keep your fluids up.” He says, bringing you the glass.

“Sit up.” He says, helping guide you up. You gladly take the glass of water, finishing it off.

“Still ordering me around?” You joke.

“Shit I’m sorry I-“

“I’m kidding.” You cut him off. You sit in silence for a minute.

“I was wrong. You’re better than me.” Adrian says quietly.

“What?” You question, surprised by his words.

“You’re better than me.” He says a little louder.

“No, I heard you. Adrian, we’re both good. Neither one of us is better than the other.” He gives you a sad smile.

“But you took a bullet for me because I wasn’t paying attention.” His voice is laced with pain.

“You would do the same for me.” You say, reaching up to cup his face. You weakly pull him down for a kiss. It’s short, but passionate. It’s the first kiss you’ve shared in a week and on top of that he was worried about your health. You both smile into the kiss.

“Plus I don’t mind when you order me around like this. You’re kinda like a hot nurse.” You laugh.

“Not a male nurse…” He roles his eyes.

“There are plenty of male nurses! They’re great at their jobs!” You playfully argue with him. He kisses you again before getting a wicked smile on his face.

“If you don’t mind me ordering you around…Imma make you my bitch.” He laughs. You make a fake offended face.

“Or I can be your bitch. I can be your bitch too if you want.” He says, putting his arms up in defense.

“You’re already my bitch.” You let out a soft giggle before he presses his lips to yours again.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Hey Angel - Harry Styles

a/n: since i had so much time on my hand at work lately (not anymore unfortunately) i used it wisely and cooked up this PA themed fic bc i absolutely love this trope. it’s lengthy and kinda emotional? kinda, lol. hope you’ll like it and as always, feedback is much appreciated!!

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.5k

masterlist

Harry likes to pretend he is tall enough to comfortably rest his chin on the top of your head when he stands behind you, but that’s not true. He has to push himself a little to his tippy toes and push you down at the same time to fit his chin above you, his arms weighing down on your shoulders. You stopped arguing him that you need to push your hips forward when he does this so you don’t carry his whole weight.

“Tha’s rude, you do not have to do tha’!” he defended himself every time you brought up, so you just stopped.

Now as you watch the game of air hockey unfold in front of you, a half empty pint in your hand, you don’t even budge when you feel a chiseled chin resting on the top of your head, you push your hips forward without a second thought to shorten your height. You catch a glimpse of a tattooed forearm on your shoulder, Harry’s chest presses against your back gently.

He doesn’t stay in this position too long, it’s making it hard to drink so soon enough, he wraps his left arm around your shoulders, coming to stand next to you, sipping on his tequila on the rocks.

“Hey you,” you smile at him as he gives you a side look, a boyish smirk tugging on his pink lips. “Everything alright?”

“Everything is fine.”

“You need something? How much have you had to drink?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows, looking down at his glass that was certainly full when you last saw him about ten minutes ago.

“Shush, stop pretending like you’re working,” he waves at your face, his words melting together, definitely thanks to the alcohol he has consumed tonight.

“I know I’m not working, I’m just tryna’ be your friend and look out for you.” Bringing your own drink up to your lips, you give him a look, but he just smirks at you playfully.

“Uh-huh, whatever. Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you, H,” you sigh dramatically and it makes him laugh with his head falling back.

“Is this the part where you tell me I’m some spoiled brat celebrity you ‘ave to babysit for your living? And that I always do ridiculous shit so you ‘ave to keep an eye on me at all times?”

You can’t push your smile down at how far this statement is from reality. You just like to tease him about being a typical, asshole rockstar when he is literally your favorite person in the world without a doubt.

“Oh Angel, you can’t fool me,” he cackles, squeezing you to his side before taking another sip from his drink.

“Wouldn’t even try to,” you mumble with an amused smile. “Havin’ fun, birthday boy?” you ask, leaning into his side. You would never admit, but you love how touchy Harry can get sometimes, not really caring about physical boundaries, especially when he drinks. The hugs, the squeezes, the touches, they always make your heart flutter even after knowing him for years.

“I’m havin’ a blast. What about you?”

“What about me? It’s not my birthday,” you chuckle shortly.

“So what? I can’t make sure you’re enjoying your night?” he frowns at you dramatically that just makes you laugh.

“I’m having a great night. It’s just that my boss keeps coming after me even though I’m supposed to be off the clock.”

You peek up at him to see the grin on his face at your teasing. The dynamic between the two of you has been like this since day one. The constant bickering and teasing is what really brought the two of you close, you are so similar, it’s like you can see a male version of yourself when you look at him.

“Tell the dude to fuck off,” he mumbles into his drink and you bump your hip against him, but he just holds you tight to his side as an answer.

Soon enough, Harry joins the game and you watch him play from the side, obviously cheering on his opponent to annoy him, earning some pretty dirty looks from him whenever they score against him and you let out a “woho!” in victory.

“Y’know, it’s not too nice to cheer against the birthday boy, is it?” he calls you out when the table is taken by someone else and he joins you at the side again.

“Am I not allowed to choose who I want to cheer to?” you ask with a faked puzzled look and he presses his lips into a thin line, glaring down at you intently.

“Don’t test me, Angel,” he grumbles into your ear before walking off to join his friends who came out to celebrate with him today.

It’s a pretty lowkey celebration, since he is still in the middle of filming Don’t Worry Darling, so he couldn’t really travel far from the set, but some of his dearest friends were able to come here and celebrate with him and his cast members.

You stand at the bar and your eyes find him every time you scan the place, not able to keep your gaze away from him for too long, he just demands the attention. Or at least yours.

You’ve never met anyone like him. When you got the chance to be his personal assistant four years ago at the very beginning of his solo career, you never thought how he’ll move right into your heart and never leave it. Whether you look at him as your boss or your friend, you can’t deny that he changed your life and you’ve learned so much from him, you can only hope he thinks of you somewhat the same. However you always tell yourself: what could you possibly give for The Harry Styles? He has everything in the whole wide world.

Harry catches you staring and he arches a brow at you, abandoning the conversation he has been in for the past minutes, mouthing you “what’s up, Angel”, his accent thick even without hearing his voice.

He’s been calling you Angel for longer than you can remember. When you asked him why the nickname, he said it’s because One Direction’s song Hey Angel was written about you. It was a fat lie, you haven’t met him when the song was written, but his words still tightened your chest, playing with the thought of Harry writing a song about you.

As cheesy and cliché as it is, you fell for him faster than you’d like to admit. You tried to fight it for a while, convince yourself it’s just a silly crush, but you soon had to realize you outgrew that after the first few weeks working with him. How could you not fall for him? He is everything any woman could wish for and he has you wrapped around his fingers, just like he has half the female population, probably.

You shake your head in his way, not sure how to tell him you just got lost in your thoughts about him. In fact, he occupies your mind pretty much all the time, but he doesn’t have to know about that.

He excuses himself from the table and walks up to you, a slow breath leaving your nose as you watch him approach you.

“Tired?” he asks, stopping in front of you, placing his empty glass to the counter.

“Kinda,” you nod.

“Want to head home soon?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can just call a taxi and go home, you don’t have to come.”

“Don’t be silly, we go to the same place, obviously we’re gonna go home together.”

Since filming has started, Harry and you’ve been sharing a nice apartment near the set. It was his idea to rent a place for the two of you, rather than to stay at a hotel. At first you didn’t think it would be a good idea, but of course, he convinced you to live with him for the months while the movie is being filmed. So now you basically live with Harry, share pretty much all your living space with him, except your bedroom.

“But it’s your birthday, stay as long as you want,” you tell him, not wanting to snatch him away from his friends on his big day.

“We’re filming in the afternoon tomorrow, can’t drag the night too long either way,” he shrugs, trying to make you believe it’s really nothing.

No matter how badly you try to convince him to stay, he doesn’t bulge and starts saying goodbye within an hour, calling the two of you a car to take you home. He is clearly tipsy, but not drunk. Once you’re in the car, Harry’s hand finds yours and he pulls you closer in the backseat until your thighs are pressed together. He curls an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to his side, sinking down in the seat. You let your head rest on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness of his body, pressing down any worrying thought that usually makes its way to your mind every time Harry gets a little cozier than the usual.

The rational side of your brain knows you should be keeping some distance from him for the sake of your own sanity and emotional health, but you just can’t. Denying these little moments from yourself would be like pure torture and your heart can’t take that for sure.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” he murmurs, his nose nuzzling into your hair and you just shrug your shoulders.

“Nothing,” you mumble your lie.

“Liar, I can hear the gears turning in that pretty head of yours,” he grins down at you as your eyes lock for a moment. Thank God for the darkness in the car, because you can feel your cheeks heating up. The last thing you need is for Harry to see how nervous he can make you feel with just a simple compliment.

“Stop being nosy, you don’t have to know everything all the time.” You poke his side with your elbow, it makes him jump a little before he snuggles back to your side.

“That’s not true, you know I’m entitled to hold every knowledge in the world.” He tries to hide his smirk, but he fails miserably and you just laugh at him with your head falling back to his shoulder.

“Harry Styles, you are something else,” you sigh shaking your head at him.

Arriving home Harry keeps an arm around you as you walk up to the front door, fishing your keys out of your bag since you’d bet Harry didn’t bring his. There’s a chance he hasn’t even used his copy since you’ve been here, he knows you always have yours and you haven’t really left without each other so far, always staying around the other.

“Want to shower first?” he hums, walking inside, his arm leaving your shoulders and though you feel lighter without the extra weight, you wish it was still there.

“Go for it, I’m gonna clean up the mess I made when I got ready earlier,” you tell him, heading into your bedroom where the floor is littered with half your wardrobe from earlier, when you were trying to figure out what to wear for the little outing.

Harry disappears in the shared bathroom and a moment later you hear the water running. You go around your room, picking up the dresses you voted against, placing them back into the wardrobe and then you put away your makeup you left on your bed in your hurry.

“Bathroom is yours!” Harry calls out just when you finish, you hear his bedroom door open and close so you grab a clean oversized t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts before occupying the bathroom.

The warm shower feels nice, it’s been a long day since you started on set, Harry had a few scenes to film before you could leave in the afternoon. You wash away the day, scrub your makeup off and then take off the rest with your wipes once you’re out. You brush your hair and use some lotion for your dry skin before getting dressed and leaving the steamy bathroom.

Padding down the short hallway you hear nothing coming from Harry’s bedroom and you wonder if he’s already asleep, but once you step inside your room you see that he is cozied up on your bed, your covers pulled up to his naked chest, a pillow tucked under his head as he scrolls through his phone so shamelessly, as if it was his own room.

“Did you take the wrong turn in the hallway?” you ask with an arched eyebrow as you throw your dirty clothes to your temporary hamper, which is basically your emptied out suitcase.

“Nope,” he grins smugly, you have to roll your eyes at him. He locks his phone, dropping it to the side table, watching you move around, getting ready for bed and his eyes on your figure feel like they’re burning down on your skin.

“You know, it’s rude to stare,” you comment not even looking at him, but you just know he is still staring at you. Grabbing a hairtie from the little dresses in the corner of your room you reach back to loosely braid your hair, but his voice stops you.

“Wait,” he pleads and you furrow your eyebrows at him. “Can I do it?”

You give him a confused look as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, his green eyes are glimmering from the tiredness and the alcohol he has consumed tonight.

“You want to braid my hair?”

“Yeah,” he nods. You hesitate for a moment but join him on the bed at last, turning your back against him, giving him full control over your hair.

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers raking through your strands. He is so gentle and careful as you feel him section your hair off to three parts.

“Didn’t know you can braid,” you tell him, eyes fixated on the sheets in front of you.

“Gemma taught me, but I’m not the best at it.”

“So I’ll look atrocious?” you tease him smiling to yourself. He pokes the back of your neck with his fingers before continuing his work.

“You could never look atrocious, even if you tried.”

“And you are such a flirt,” you sigh. Over the years you’ve gotten used to his flirty act, it’s just who he is and though in the beginning your breath always got caught in your throat when he said something cheesy, now you just brush it off, only thinking about his words when you are alone in the night, struggling to fall asleep because you’re once again, thinking about him.

“M’telling the truth. Have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?”

“Mmm,” you hum. He has told you that you looked pretty when the two of you left and he saw you walk out of your room in your black skinny jeans and flowy sheer top on, your hair loosely curled, but you didn’t really know what to say, so you just smiled at him and it’s the same now. You’re not the best at taking compliments.

“You really did. You always are.”

“And once again, you are such a flirt.”

“Complimenting a pretty woman is being a flirt?” he asks pretending to be offended as he carefully works on your hair and you wish you could see his focused face as he is trying to keep track of the sections between his fingers. At a lack of a witty comeback, you just shrug your shoulders, fumbling with your fingers on your lap.

You both fall silent as he concentrates on your hair and you manage to stop thinking, just focus on how his fingers keep brushing against your back every time he crosses two sections over each other.

“Hairtie, please,” he asks, his hand appearing next to you with his palm upwards. You place it in his hand and he finishes up his masterpiece. “There, it didn’t turn out as bad as I thought,” he comments once he is done. Reaching back you run your fingers over the braid and it feels good, he did a great job.

“Thanks,” you smile at him shyly, turning around. He leans back, making himself comfortable once again and you arch an eyebrow at him. “Need me to walk you back to your room, sir?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine here,” he grins smugly, tugging his arm behind his head as he takes up the right side of the bed.

“You’re planning to sleep here?”

“Please, don’t make me sleep alone on my birthday!” he pouts, giving you those damned puppy eyes. How could you ever say no to him?

“You better not push me off the bed in your sleep,” you mumble before getting under the covers.

You turn off the bedside lamp and the two of you start moving around, finding a comfortable pose to sleep in and you end up facing each other on your sides, Harry’s face squished into the pillow as his eyes are roaming over the hand you have laid between your faces.

His fingers start to inch towards yours until he hooks his pinky with yours, the touch sending a warm feeling down your spine.

“I hate sleeping alone,” he mumbles into the semi-darkness.

“Why?”

“Don’t you like it when there’s someone next to you? When you wake up and you’re not alone?”

“I like it, but I don’t hate sleeping alone either,” you tell him as your eyes fall to your linked pinky fingers. “Why do you hate it? You have the bed all to yourself, and there’s no chance of waking up to someone snoring or talking in their sleep.”

He huffs out a laugh as he buries his head deeper into the pillow.

“It makes me feel lonely. Which is ridiculous, because I’m never alone.”

“But lonely and alone are not the same, so it’s not ridiculous. You can feel lonely when you’re not alone.”

“I know,” he nods, his eyes watching your linked fingers intently, before he moves his hand so it’s now covering yours, his warm palm wrapping around your much smaller hand. “I’m never lonely with you, though.”

“So… you are only lonely when you’re sleeping or in the bathroom, because we basically spend every moment of the day together.” You smirk at him and see his dimple form in his cheek as he smiles at you nodding.

“That’s right. We are like glued together.”

“How aren’t we sick of each other already?”

“That’s never gonna happen.”

“You sure about that?” You raise your eyebrows at him with an amused smile, he is too sure about that answer.

“One hundred percent. You’re my favorite person.”

“Is that what you tell everyone?”

He gives you a look, but you just chuckle, sinking further into your pillow. His fingers start playing with your hand as he draws a deep breath.

“I only tell this to m’ mum and Gemma. No one else.”

Your heart starts racing at the thought of him seeing you on the same level as his closest family. You know how much his mum and sister mean to him, but you never thought you are anywhere near them in his eyes.

“You’re my favorite person too,” you whisper as your eyes meet over your joined hands. He smiles at you warmly, his floppy curls falling into his forehead and you want to run your fingers through them, feel how soft they are under your touch. Harry scoots closer, your faces only a few inches away from each other as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

For a moment you just watch him, thinking how good it feels to have him in your bed. How amazing it is to end the day with him so close to you. You wish all days would end like this, you wouldn’t have another bad day with him next to you.

Lying there and watching him slowly fall asleep, his hand still on yours, the bitter thought eats itself into your mind that he is only here because he feels lonely and wanted to be close to someone, not you particularly. And though you’re glad it’s you he ended up next to, you try not to get too accustomed to the feeling, because you’re just a temporary fix to his loneliness.

The door to Harry’s trailer opens and he walks in wearing his blue dress pants and crispy white dress shirt, fumbling with the top buttons to undo them. You glance up at him from your laptop where you’ve been working on his schedule for the upcoming weeks while he was filming.

“Hey, how did it go?” you ask as he places his water bottle to the vanity and then sits in the chair he spends his mornings in while his hair is being styled and tattoos are covered.

“Good. Messed up only a few times. Whacha’ working on?”

“Just your schedule, I’ll email it to you when I’m done, though you never check it.”

“Hey, I do check it! I like your color coding. I just suck at using it and you’re always here to remind me of the important stuff.”

You roll your eyes, continuing to type away on your keyboard as he moves around, having a snack and texting back people.

“Florence is coming over for a little after we’re done. We can order something,” he speaks up grabbing your attention again.

“Cool,” you nod with a small smile. “Is she staying the night?”

“No, we just thought it would be nice to hang out a little without dressed like this,” he chuckles looking down at himself.

“What’s wrong with Jack’s clothes? You look neat.”

“Do I?” he cocks an eyebrow cheekily, placing his hands to his hips as he looks down at you.

“Yeah. It’s a nice change after all the grandpa clothes,” you tease him and he gasps pretending to be offended at your words, though you both know you have nothing against his style. In fact, you love how he just wears whatever he wants, not caring what others would think.

“Watch your mouth or you can’t wear my bode jacket again,” he warns you holding up his pointing finger, shaking it at you, but you just chuckle at him, finishing up what you’ve been working on before shutting the laptop down.

“How long until you’re done?”

“Just a few more scenes. I think we can leave in about two hours.”

“Alright.”

“You done working?”

“Mhm, for now.”

“Come and watch the filming. You’re always so hidden in here.”

“Because I always have work to do,” you point out, putting the laptop to the side from your lap.

“Yeah, but you’re done now, so come out and watch me be the next Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smugly tells you, and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“You’re so humble, H. Is something that comes with the age?” you tease him standing up from the small sofa, grabbing your phone from the table.

“You’ll find out in a year,” he smirks back as you follow him out of the trailer, back to the set.

Later that day you, Florence and Harry are chilling back at your apartment, munching on the pizza you ordered, watching some documentary on Netflix, just enjoying a lazy evening. You’ve become quite close with Florence, her personality is a lot like yours so you got along well from the beginning, the three of you often do things together outside of set.

You and Harry are sharing the couch while Florence is curled up on the loveseat. The temperature at the apartment is always nice, but you often catch yourself feeling a little cold in the evening, but it has more to do with the tiredness rather than with the heating of the place. When you pull your legs underneath you to warm your feet, Harry notices the action and knows right away that you’re starting to feel cold as always. Reaching down he grabs a blanket from the basket next to the couch and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Come ‘ere,” he mumbles, draping the blanket over the two of you. You shuffle closer to him, making yourself comfortable at his side as he makes sure you’re fully tugged in. Then he leaves an arm around you, his fingers gently grazing your shoulder as he turns his attention back at the movie.

Glancing over at Florence you see the puzzled look on her, but you ignore it biting into your bottom lip, turning back to watch the movie though you’re having a hard time focusing. All you can think about is Harry’s touch on you.

It’s almost midnight when Florence calls herself a taxi. Harry picks up the glasses you used and volunteers to wash them, leaving you and Florence alone in the living room.

“So, what’s up with you and Harry?” she questions right away without beating around the bush.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you two has always been close, but now… it seems all too… couple-like.” She narrows her eyes at you, hands on her hips, looking like a mother questioning her daughter.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not,” she scoffs. Then you pretend to be busy with folding the blanket, but you can feel her intent stare on you before she speaks up again. “You like him, don’t you?”

“What?” you huff with a not too Oscar-worthy expression on your face that was supposed to hide the panic in you. “Well of course I like him, he is my friend and boss.”

“But not just like that. You like like him.”

“Florence,” you sigh, just when Harry walks out of the kitchen, oblivious to the conversation that he just interrupted.

“You sure you don’t want to spend the night?” he politely asks her, but she just shakes her head.

“I’m not really up for spending the night on the couch.”

“You wouldn’t have to, you can sleep in my bed,” he simply offers and something is telling you he shouldn’t open his mouth again.

“You’re not taking the couch because of me.”

“I wouldn’t, I usually sleep at Y/N’s,” he states as if it was nothing, but you instantly freeze.

Yes, ever since his birthday he has spent way more nights in your bed than in his own, always raving to you how well he can sleep when you’re next to him and you couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling lonely, so you’ve been letting him occupy half of your bed through the nights. He usually holds your hand falling asleep and then you wake up tangled together, sometimes he is cuddling you from behind, other times you’re the one curled up to his side. He treats it so casually, like it really is nothing, he just always goes on his day when you wake up so you decided to not make it into a big deal either.

Florence gives you a wide eyed look that you try hard to ignore, while Harry is so oblivious to what he just caused with his statement.

“I uhh—thanks but I’m fine going home. Besides, I think my car is already here. See you guys on set tomorrow. Y/N?” she calls out walking towards the front door.

“Hm?”

“We’ll talk later,” she tells you and it’s a strong message that she won’t just leave it at that.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you nod awkwardly, waving her goodbye.

You and Harry clean up together and as always, he is the first one to use the bathroom and by the time you’re done, he is in your bed, waiting for you to join him. You don’t comment on his presence anymore, part of you afraid he would stop spending the night in your bed and you definitely don’t want that. Not much is left from filming, meaning that soon you are forced to go home where you and Harry do not live at the same place so you’re gonna have to sleep alone, like you did before. Only now you are way too hooked on the feeling of having him in your bed, even if it’s not in the way you truly want, it’s better than nothing.

The moment you get under the sheets, Harry reaches out and pulls you to his side. He hasn’t done this often when you went to sleep, only sneaking some small touches, but you don’t mind him being a little extra clingy.

“Filming is almost over,” you mumble into his chest, your hand lazily resting where his ribcage ends in his chest.

“Mhm.” There’s a short silence before he speaks up again. “What about it, Angel?”

“It’s just that it’s going to be weird going home. I got used to living here.” It’s your way saying that you’re gonna miss having him around all the time, but you’re not sure if he understands the hint. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

“You like cramped together with me?” he chuckles lowly.

“Was kinda nice,” you smile.

“Remember how you threatened me to throw my shit out if I leave my dirty clothes on the floor?”

“I do,” you smirk, thinking back to the conversation where you agreed to live with him while he is filming. “Didn’t find any clothes on the floor, so you get an A for that.”

“Wow, was this… a compliment?”

“Shut up, I always compliment you!” you laugh smacking his chest gently.

“Oh, no. You don’t compliment, you just tell me when I managed not to fuck something up,” he corrects you and your cheeks are heating up about how well he knows you.

“Those are compliments in my book, don’t be greedy.”

“M’not. I love how grounded you keep me with treating me like this.”

“Like what?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows.

“Like a normal person. With you, I don’t have to be afraid that I earn something because of who I am. You give no shit about my name, you always keep me in check and I appreciate that.”

“Can’t let you have a too big of a head,” you smirk, closing your eyes. He laughs with you, squeezing you a little before you both fall into silence, drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

You’ve managed to avoid Florence in the past few days. Her burning look has been making you way too nervous, you know she wants to know more about what’s going on between you and Harry, but truth to be told, you have no idea what to tell her.

Yeah, I’m definitely in love with him and we’ve been sharing a bed for a few weeks because he feels lonely alone at night, so he uses me to ease the feeling while I just let him because as I said, I’m in love with the man.

No, you can’t tell her that.

Now there’s only two days left from filming, meaning that only two more nights to spend with Harry and it’s making you a nervous wreck to think about sleeping alone in your bedroom.

You round the corner in the maze of the trailers after a phone call you had with Jeff when you run out of luck and bump right into Florence.

“I’ve been looking for you, Y/N. Come have lunch with me in my trailer,” she smiles sweetly, grabbing you by your hand so you can’t escape her this time.

“Oh I wanted to call—“

“Do it later,” she simply cuts you off.

Soon, you find yourself in her trailer as she eats her burger while she eyes you with suspicion.

“So, you and Harry sleep together?”

“Well, not like that. We really just sleep in the same bed.”

“Oh, makes perfect sense, sleeping in the same bed as your boss. Very casual.”

“Don’t make it sound so weird,” you frown at her words. You definitely don’t see Harry as your boss. You do work for him, but it never felt like he stands anywhere above you, the two of you have always been equal even before you became close friends.

“You gotta admit it’s pretty unusual,” she points out and you just look away from her. “So let’s talk about how you’re in love with him.”

“What? I never said that!” you protest, but she just gives you a look that says ‘cut the crap, girl’ and you know there’s no use to try to trick her, she sees right through you. “Don’t fucking look at me like that, I have enough shit on my plate without your judgment.”

“Oh, I’m not judging you. I’m just wondering why you two are not together already.”

You practically snort at her statement, finding it quite absurd and ridiculous.

“What? You two are perfect for each other and I’m pretty sure Harry loves you too.”

“Yeah, as a friend.”

“That’s not how friends act, Y/N. He wouldn’t beg himself into your bed every night if he was just your friend.”

“He is just lonely. He doesn’t need me, just someone to be with him.”

“That’s bullshit,” she scoffs. “You two are just being idiots.” Just as you are about to answer, your phone starts ringing. Harry’s smiley face appears on the screen, making you extremely nervous because of the conversation you are having with Florence.

“Hey,” you breathe out answering the call.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Just, talking with Florence. What’s up?”

“I got an email from Jeff and I have some questions.”

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Thank you Angel,” he hums before ending the call.

“I gotta go. Please don’t… bring any of this up for Harry,” you ask Florence, heading to the exit.

“You’ve gotta sort your shit out. This is not ideal, Y/N.”

“I know it,” you growl under your breath, leaving the trailer. You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you march back to Harry’s trailer. You feel so confused and anxious about this whole situation and the worst thing is that you have no idea what to do about it. Telling him how you feel seems like a stupid idea, but mostly because you’re terrified of rejection. What if it all meant nothing to him? If you were right and he is just lonely and uses you to help himself, it has nothing to do with you. You wouldn’t survive the heartbreak it would give you if he told you he doesn’t see you more than just a friend.

As you walk into his trailer he is sitting on the sofa with his phone in his hands. He glances up at you, a warm smile tugging on his lips as you take a deep breath, feeling very much out of place suddenly. Unfortunately, he immediately senses your discomfort.

“Everything alright, Angel?”

Angel. This nickname could make your knees go weak in a heartbeat and you hate how much effect it has on you. Especially in this state of mind you’re currently in.

“I just…” You shake your head shutting your eyes. “Why do you keep calling me that?” you ask, sounding way more desperate than you intended to. Harry puts his phone aside, looking a little puzzled at your sudden weird act, but he seems more worried for you.

“I, uhh—“

“And don’t tell me it’s because Hey Angel is about me. We didn’t know each other back then.”

You have no idea where this is coming from or why you even questioned him about it all of a sudden, but Florence just totally threw you off with what she just said. Harry stares back at you, probably vigorously looking for the reason why you are acting up now, but luckily, he doesn’t try to turn it into a joke as always.

“I call you Angel, because you remind me of the song. It wasn’t written about you, but the lyrics match up with… you.”

“What?” you ask in confusion.

“I wish I could be more like you, do you wish you could be more like me?” he quotes the song, not singing the words, simply just talking them as he stares back at you. “I see you at the bar, at the edge of my bed, backseat of my car, in the back of my head,” he continues and you feel your throat doing dry just from the way he softly speaks, standing only a few feet away from you. “I come alive when I hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound, it’s a beautiful noise.”

You never really gave it another thought, but now that he has told you this, it hit you hard in the chest. You weren’t expecting, especially because those lines are rather meaningful, to you at least.

“I thought of it once not long after we first met and thought calling you Angel would suit you. Do you mind it? I can just… stop calling you that if you don’t like it.”

You shake your head. You never want him to stop calling you that even if it’s not that meaningful for him. If it’s just some game. It’s great to know that something reminded him of you.

“No, it’s… it’s alright.” Your voice is small, barely more than just a whisper. It’s a little too much at once. Florence’s words are still stuck in your head, and what he just said has felt like he just gripped your heart even if he doesn’t know.

You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to come back from this hazy state of mind.

“So, what about that email?”

“You alright?” Reaching forward he takes your hand and you try not to flinch at his touch, just smile at him nodding.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He squeezes your hand before dropping it and he luckily doesn’t ask any more questions.

 You stay oddly quiet for the rest of the day and Harry surely knows something is wrong, but he respects you enough not to bug you about it any longer. He just stays close to you as much as he can, trying his best to take your mind off of whatever keeps you occupied.

On the way home you and Harry drop by a supermarket, buy some quick dinner, not wanting to stack the fridge when you’re leaving so soon. Then you sit in the living room, eating and watching some random movie that’s on TV. You snuggle to his side on the couch naturally, he doesn’t even have to pull you close this time. The thought of having left only one more night in the apartment makes you want to sue every little moment you have left in this bubble.

Harry makes you have a shower first tonight and when you come out from the bathroom, your bed is already nicely made, inviting you warmly. He is quick to finish with his shower and joins you in bed barely five minutes later. You move towards each other instantly, his arms curling around your form soothingly as you make yourself comfortable, melted into his embrace. You feel his lips pressing against your forehead and you almost start crying at the small action.

“Angel, I don’t know what has upset you, but I’m here for you, alright? You’re not alone,” he murmurs softly.

“I know,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I would do anything for you, just like you do so much for me. You’ve got me.”

I wish, you think to yourself. You have him, but not the way you’ve been desiring. His hand moves to cup your face as he lifts your head so you are looking into his eyes in the darkened room, but there’s enough light coming through the window that you see his features. He runs his thumb across your cheek, gently caressing your skin and everywhere he touches you, it feels like your body is in flames. This something has been building up inside you and now you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to control yourself. And just as you think about how you really should put some distance between the two of you so you won’t regret it later, the unexpected happens.

Harry pulls you up just enough so when he moves his head he is able to place his lips on yours, kissing you out of the blue. His lips feel so soft, so fitting on your mouth, you let out a whimper when he goes further than just a gentle kiss, taking your bottom lip between his properly. It’s an out of world experience, you’ve imagined it so many times, but you never thought it would actually happen and now that it is very much happening, your whole mind goes blank and for a split second… everything feels right. You kiss him back with fever and with each passing moment the kiss grows more passionate and way hungrier than how it started. Harry’s arm tightens around you, almost pulling you on top of him and you can’t make yourself stop, not that you want to.

With a little force, Harry pushes the two of you around so now you’re lying on the mattress and he holds himself up above you, his lips never disconnecting from yours. He licks into your mouth, pulling and tugging on your lips, making your whole body go weak just for him.

But then, as if reality hit you in the head, you realize what’s happening.

“Harry,” you gasp pulling back, gasping for air. “This—We…”

“Angel, let me take care of you. Please,” he begs out of breath.

“What…”

“I want to make you feel good. I want to take care of you, please let me.” He sounds so desperate, like he would do anything for this and you are not strong enough to deny it from him.

It’s just his pity. He’s been using you for his needs, now he wants to give some back, it’s nothing more, you think to yourself. It can’t be more.

You lack the willpower to make a rational decision, so as you stare up into his eyes that appear so dark due to the lack of proper lighting, you just nod before he leans down and kisses you again.

He holds himself up on one arm while his free hand wanders down your body, touching you at places you have never felt him before. He palms your left breast, squeezing it gently and it makes you moan into his mouth before his hand moves down the curve of your waist until it reaches your sleeping shorts. Your body is burning for him and you can’t stop it from reacting to everything he does. You buckle your hips up when you feel his fingers gently graze along your pubic bone, even though you’re still fully clothed.

“What do you want me to do, Angel? I’ll do anything you want me to,” he pants between kisses as his hand moves to cup your heated core, making you moan again from the sensation of his touch there.

“I need you,” is all you manage to get out.

“I’m right here. You got me. What do you want me to do? Please, tell me, Angel,” he whines, forehead pressed against yours and his hips fall, pressing against your thigh, making you realize how excited he has gotten. His erection is hard under the fabric of his boxers, almost aching to be freed. There’s no way you can take any teasing or a long foreplay. You need him inside you now before you burst.

“Harry, I need you inside me. Please,” you whimper, almost cry, before he kisses you again, hard and demanding as he simply pushes your shorts down, revealing your naked sex since you don’t wear any underwear to bed. You grab the waistband of his boxers too and push it down until he can wiggle his legs out of them, leaving him completely naked in your bed while you still have a top covering your upper body, however he is quick to change that. He grabs the hem and starts pulling it off, your hands helping him so a few moments later you’re completely naked underneath him.

“Fuck, Angel,” he breathes out, his perfect, pink lips attacking the side of your throat, kissing and nibbling on the skin, going down to your breasts, giving the same amount of attention to both while you turn into jelly under his touch. lacing your fingers through his hair you cry out his name as you can feel him leaving a mark on your left breast, his tongue swirling against the spot he just completely destroyed before he brings himself back up so he can kiss you again and again with so much hunger, it’s hard to tell where you end and where he starts. Everything melts together and you’re such a mess in every possible way.

His hand gently reaches down between your legs and parts your shaking thighs before he cups you drenched pussy, his middle finger sliding between your folds, a shameless moan slipping from your mouth, right into his as your lips are still attached.

“So wet, I can’t wait to make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

“Harry, just… please,” you pant, surely feeling yourself lose the last bits of your nerves.

“D’you have a condom?” he asks, head lifting up a bit so he can look into your eyes.

“I-In my, um, the makeup bag,” you try to explain gesturing towards your dresser where your makeup bag sits on top, two condoms somewhere inside it. Harry pecks your lips before pulling away from you, the lack of his weight on top of you making you shiver.

He digs into the bag until he finds what he’s been looking for, tearing the packaging open with his teeth and he rolls it on while he walks back, not wasting another moment. You cling onto him like a koala bear once he is back in bed, his massive body covering you again.

“Just tell me how you like it, I’ll do anything,” he mumbles against your shivering lips as he pushes the head in first, stopping for a second before the rest of his cock buries inside you, completely taking your breath away. He is bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, filling up every inch of you, your walls stretching around him as he stills once he is all the way inside you.

This is it. This is the moment you’ve imagined oh so many times, feeling him the closest possible, his cock buried inside you, his cheek pressed against yours as he holds himself up on top of you. Years of yearning and endless nights when you imagined your hand was his… and now it’s your reality. And though you know it’s gonna change everything, you can’t tell yourself to stop.

Harry lifts his head, pecking your lips gently, calling you Angel over and over again as he starts moving, the friction between your legs growing with each thrust. He fits inside you so well, you won’t be able to enjoy sex with anyone else now that you’ve experienced it with Harry. All of a sudden, he has become the epitome of your whole life.

“Tell me what you want, Angel. Do you want me to go slow or fast? Tell me how to make you feel good.” His lips brush against yours with each word while you’re just trying to catch your breath, fingers digging into his back, the euphoria building up inside you gradually.

“A little faster,” you breathe out, speaking feels like a hard task at the moment. Harry picks his pace up, finding just the right rhythm that makes you wrap your legs around his waist so he can go even deeper with each thrust he makes.

“Look at me, Angel. Let me see your eyes,” he begs, his hand cupping your cheek. He runs his thumb along the line of your lower lip before he takes it between his lips, tugging on it gently, kissing you like you’re his last breath on Earth. He is devouring you, body melts together with yours, all your senses are strictly focused on him. He is all you see, hear, feel and taste.

Your gaze meets his and the way he looks at you, like you’re his whole entire world, it makes your eyes tear up. You want it to be true, you want it to be reality, you want it to be more than just about needs and satisfaction, but it’s not and your consciousness is not letting you believe otherwise.

“Oh Angel,” he softly hums, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of your eye and ran down the side of your face. Keeping up his rhythm he kisses along your jawline, your cheek, your lips, the side of your face, the bridge of your nose, everywhere he can before returning to your lips with a hungry, passion filled kiss.

“Harry…” you whimper, holding your thighs tighter around his waist as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

“Let it go for me, Angel. I wanna see you feel good, cum for me,” he tells you, eyes never leaving yours as you are ready to burst underneath him.

“Harry, I-I need you!” The words fall from your lips as a desperate beg, arms wrapping around his torso tight, as if he could disappear from your embrace any moment.

“I’m right here, Angel. Right here,” he soothes you, kissing your lips sweetly as proof that he is not just a trick your mind is playing on you. “Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Yes!” you pant, losing control over your body and all your senses. It’s gonna be intense, you can tell and it hasn’t even started yet, you just know it’ll shake you to the core.

“Good girl. Let me make you feel good.” “So good,” you breathe out before Harry occupies your lips with his once again.

It doesn’t take long. He keeps thrusting in the perfect angle and it throws you right over the edge. Harry demands you look him in the eyes when your orgasm wash you over and the intensity of it all almost makes you cry again. You burst, lose yourself under him, screaming his name as if you were praying to all higher forces. In a way, you are, because for a moment you really think you completely vanish from this world.

Harry follows you just a few more thrusts later, falling out of his rhythm as he grunts and moans your name, face buried into the crook of your neck while you tug on his hair, the feeling of his soft locks between your fingers is like pure heaven.

He stills, but stays inside you as he looks up, his eyes filled with satisfaction and contentment as he cups your face again, kissing you long, taking his time with you.

As you come off your high and the clouds of euphoria clears off, reality sets in more painfully than ever. Your limbs are paralyzed and you feel like you are outside your own body, just watching everything happen as if you were a third person in the room. Harry rolls to the side, chest heaving wildly as he is trying to regulate himself. Once he is able to breathe without panting, he pecks your shoulder gently and makes a quick round to the bathroom. You hear water running and then his feet padding on the floor, but you can’t bring yourself to move, you just lie there, completely drained out. It doesn’t change even when Harry gently cleans you off with a damp washing cloth, throwing it to the side to take care of it in the morning. He pulls the covers over the two of you and scoops you into his arms. You manage to bring your arm up to his chest as your head rests on his shoulder. His fingers are dancing up and down your arm, his steady breathing keeping your overcrowded head grounded. And then… he starts singing so softly, it’s almost just a whisper.

“Hey Angel, oh, I wish I could be more like you. Do you wish you could be more like me?”

Your eyes shut close, the damn tears flooding again, but you keep your sobs drowned in your throat. Instead you force yourself to sleep and hope you live to see the morning, because you feel like your heart is about to give up on you.

 When you wake up, you genuinely feel like you’ve drunk through last night and now have the worst hangover. It’s like you’ve been hit on the head with a chair. You slowly come to your senses and realize that you’re completely naked in bed and there’s a body curled to your side, equally naked.

The shock sets in first because you realize, once again, that what happened last night wasn’t just a fever dream, it actually happened. And then you basically jump out of bed when you look at the small digital clock on the bedside and see that the two of you have ten minutes to leave if you don’t want to be late to the last day of filming.

“Harry! Harry get up!” you smack him, kicking the covers off and grabbing your top and shorts from the floor, quickly putting them on. The man in talk growls, just rolling to his back without even opening his eyes. “Harry damn it! We have ten minutes or you’ll be late!” you snap at him and it somewhat wakes him up. With furrowed eyebrows at puckered lips, he lifts his head up and looks around.

Those lips were kissing you last night.

“What?” he mumbles in confusion.

“We overslept, get up. We have… eight minutes left.”

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, finally getting out of bed, reaching for his boxers.

It’s a shitshow as the two of you try to get ready on time and though you are running just a few minutes late, the driver of the taxi manages to speed down the streets fast enough that you arrive to set just in time.

During the whole ride, you feel Harry’s burning eyes on you, but thank God, you get a call from Jeffrey the moment you get into the car and it lasts the whole ride so you don’t have to talk with him about what happened last night.

“Y/N,” he tries when you’re still on the phone and he is already done with hair and makeup, heading to set to start filming.

“What?” you mouth at him.

“Can we talk later?”

“I’m busy. Go, I’m sure they are waiting for you,” you whisper to him and he looks so disappointed, but he nods and walks away. Your heart breaks as you lower the phone. You have been out of the call for some time, just didn’t want to talk to him.

Quite frankly, you’re not ready to talk to him about what happened last night. You don’t want to hear him say that he was just trying to help you out last night, that it wasn’t anything serious, just some messing around. It was just two people trying not to feel lonely.

Walking back into his trailer you can feel your chest tightening, a sharp pain shooting right into your heart the more you think about him. It was a mistake, you shouldn’t have done it because you are the one with the feelings and now you are the one struggling with the consequences of your little get together.

The more you think about it, the worse it gets and you feel like you’re about to suffocate. You need to get out of here, there’s no way you can face him now.

It all happens so fast. Before you can even second guess your decision, you’re on your way back to the apartment to pack all your stuff and get on the first flight back home. You need to put distance between you and him, spending one more night in the same apartment would make you go nuts. So while Harry is filming, completely oblivious to what you’re doing, you pack up your room as fast as possible and head to the airport to hop on the plane that leaves at four pm.

With a racing heart you check all your baggage in and make it through security when Harry first calls you. At first, you want to ignore it, but then you find yourself swiping your thumb across the screen.

“Hey,” you shortly greet him.

“Hey, where are you? Have been looking for you everywhere.” “I um… I’m at the airport,” you answer and the silence on the other end is deafening for a moment.

“You are at the what?” he then snaps.

“I had a, um, kind of emergency, so I’m heading back home now. Sorry, I would have called you, but didn’t know when you’d be off set.”

“You fucking packed and left already? You’re really at the airport?” He is fuming, Raging. You can tell he is pacing in the trailer, vigorously running his fingers through his hair, ruining it without a care. You almost feel guilty, but then again, you just know facing him now would break you. You’ll get back to him when you’ve pulled your shit together.

“I am, calm down, alright? Not a big deal.” “You just left on our last day here without a fucking word! And when am I seeing you again?”

“I, uhh—I need to be home for a while, but you’ll be fine. I’ll stay in touch with you in email and text.”

“Fucking text? Email?” he is barking now. Good thing you are not there because it would be a disaster. “Y/N, you can’t be serious. We-we were supposed to talk. You can’t just fucking disappear like this.”

“We’ll talk, alright?”

“When?”

“Later,” you simply tell him at a loss for a better answer. Hopefully, never, you think to yourself, but don’t say it out loud.

“Okay, you’re not doing this. Don’t you dare get on a plane, I’m going to the airport right now. You’re not leaving.”

“Well, I am and you’re not coming here,” you clap back, but you can already hear him moving around, probably gathering his stuff so he can leave right away.

“Swear to God if you get on that plane, I’m—“ He cuts himself off, no idea what to really say and you just sigh, closing your eyes. People rush by you and as you glance at the big screen you see that your plane is boarding.

“Harry, just… it’ll be better like this, alright? You’ll be fine, I’ll see you… when I see you. Have fun on your last day on set.”

You end the call before he could get another word out and put it on airplane mode right away as you grab your backpack and head to your gate.

Using your time on the plane wisely, you put together a very detailed schedule for Harry so he knows everything about his next few weeks and you can minimize your contact with him. You even set up a bunch of reminders in his calendar so he won’t miss his appointments.

When you set feet on the ground again, you expect the distance between you and Harry to feel comforting and freeing, but it’s the opposite. An ache in your chest is getting heavier as you get yourself a taxi and head home, feeling more alone than ever in your life.

Your home doesn’t feel like a home. Not without that one person who could make any place your home, but you can’t see him right now, not until you learn how to exist around him without the urge to faint.

Going to bed alone is pure torture. Every moment you are waiting to hear Harry shuffling around in the apartment, you miss his little snorts when he is watching the TV, his singing coming from the shower, but most importantly, you miss having him so close to you in bed. Now that you’re lying on your own, your bed feels so cold, it brings you tears as reality sets in. You miss him. You miss him more than anything and you can’t imagine a time when it won’t hurt anymore.

The crying pushes you into a shallow slumber sometime in the middle of the night, however, you’re rudely shaken back to consciousness when you hear someone banging on your door like crazy, pushing the doorbell constantly.

“Jesus fuck,” you mumble with a grimace, pulling a hoodie on as you make your way to the door hazily, probably still half asleep because you open the door without checking who it is through the peephole and you end up staring up at none other than Harry. “What the—What are you doing here?” you breathe out, panic sets in fast and your hands start shaking at the sight of him.

Harry steps inside without invitation and closes the door behind him, a stern expression on his handsome face.

“Y/N, what the fuck were you thinking when you left like that?”

“I-I told you, it was an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency? Because I called your mom and sisters, they all said nothing happened in the family, so what could possibly happen that needed you here immediately?”

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.” Shaking your head you try to step back to put some distance between the two of you, but he doesn’t let you, taking a step forward at the same time.

“Well I think we have a lot to talk about after last night, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to talk,” you shake your head biting into your bottom lip. This wasn’t supposed to happen, why couldn’t he just stay where he was? “How did you even get here so fast?”

“Left as soon as we wrapped.”

“Where are all your stuff?”

“Left everything there, I’ll just go back and pack it up, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that for a girl who genuinely hates any form of working out, you ran pretty fast from you today.”

Any other day you would have laughed at his comparison, but not today. You just stand there, chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you try to figure out what to do or say. You were not ready to face him so soon.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask desperately, throwing your hands into the air.

“Tell me what it meant for you,” he calmly answers and you want to shake him. How is he so peaceful?

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m not doing this to myself, okay? I need time, Harry.”

“For what?”

“So I can get myself over this, alright? I need time, I—fuck this,” you growl, feeling the tears flooding your eyes again. Damn it!

“Why the fuck do you want to get yourself over it?”

“Because it obviously didn’t mean the same thing to me as it meant to you!” you snap at him and he raises his eyebrows at you in a way that tells you “you’re stupid”.

“What do you think it meant to me?”

“Probably nothing,” you scoff rolling your eyes, but the anger that bursts from him quickly washes your attitude away.

“Fucking nothing? You think I would get on a fucking plane first thing after filming for ten hours straight just to come after you? You think I spent all my nights with you these past weeks because you mean nothing to me? You know, for a smart girl, you can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

You blink at him in utter confusion, his words knocked you off your feet. He exhales sharply, long fingers running through his messy curls as he tries his best to calm himself down. When he is finally breathing somewhat normally his wildly vibrant green eyes meet your widened stare.

“Y/N, I thought we were on the same page. What did you think it was all about?” he softly asks, seeing how shook you still are.

“I, uhh—I thought this was all just some kind of distraction. You said you were feeling lonely, I thought you were just… kind of using me. And then last night was you returning the favor.”

“Hell no,” he breathes out shaking his head as he steps closer and this time you don’t back away from him. You let his hands run down your arms until they find your hands. “I thought this was clear, but I’m gonna say it then. I’m in love with you, Y/N, have been for a long time, I was just being a pussy and didn’t know how you’d take it. But then, when you didn’t kick me out of your bed the first night we slept together, it got me hoping and it was all heading just the right direction. Then last night happened and I was so damn sure this would be our turning point but then…” He breathes out shakily again, as if the thought still upsets him. “When I called you and you said you were at the airport… I love you, Angel, but I was ready to murder you.”

You let out a faint chuckle, feeling the tears bubbling in your eyes.

“Why did you run away instead of talking to me? Did you not trust me?” he asks softly, a hand coming up to cup your jaw gently.

“I didn’t trust myself,” you admit weakly.

“Oh Angel…” Leaning down he kisses your forehead tenderly, his lips feel like soft feathers against your hot skin. “Do you need me to tell you again how in love I am with you or are you gonna believe me? You’re not planning to run away again, are you?” he teases you making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“I’m not gonna run away, but I would love to hear you say you love me again.”

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Angel, don’t you ever think otherwise for a moment, okay?”

You nod, lips curling into your mouth as your teary eyes meet his green orbs.

“I love you too, Harry.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he chuckles breathing out in relief and it makes you smile. “I would never just use you. Love you way too much for that, Angel. You are everything to me.”

“Wish I knew that earlier,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. It would have saved you a lot of tears.

“I will never stop saying it to you.” His forehead rests against yours, noses touching as his arms curl around your frame, pulling you close to him until you’re pressed up against his hard chest. “Just out of curiosity, what were you thinking when I told you, you reminded me of Hey Angel? Because I think it pretty much gave me away, but apparently, I was wrong,” he chuckles lowly, pulling back a little so he can look you in the eyes.

“I honestly have no idea,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. “I just had a conversation with Florence before that where she called me out about my feelings for you and I was still kind of in shock. Probably took it as just your usual flirty behavior.”

“I’ll admit I do flirt some, but haven’t you realized it’s different with you?”

“I guess not.” “Angel, you are… something else,” he chuckles in disbelief before leaning down he finally presses his lips against yours. You giggle into his lips, arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you up from the ground, twirling you around, a squeal slipping from your mouth.

“So, now you have to go back to pack your stuff?” you question, still wrapped into his arms completely and you don’t want to exist any other way. This is where you belong.

“Yeah. Had to chase down this Angel who thought she could run away from me.”

“So how are you planning to get to New York by four tomorrow when you’re still here and have to go back to pack? Have you checked the schedule I sent you? You’re not gonna make it.” You cock your head to the side with an arched brow.

“Did you just go back to full assistant mode right after we confessed our love for each other?”

“Someone has to be responsible and we both know it’s always me.”

“I’ll just hire someone to do it for me, I’ll leave to New York from here. Happy?” he grins at you as you nod.

“Very. Because this means you can stay the night here.”

“Seeing the fact that I literally have nowhere else to go, because even my house keys are in the suitcase I left back… I very much need to stay here for the night,” he points out.

“Good. Come on, my bed felt empty without you,” you giggle, pulling him towards your bedroom and he follows you eagerly.

“I can definitely help that.”

 Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[tobesobri]

Traditions | 17.3k

a/n: it's been a while since I uploaded writing and for some reason I decided to sign up for this challenge and by some miracle actually managed to write something for it 🤯anyways, this is for the Valentine's Day Challenge by @1dffchallenges and it's honestly just a bit of fun, enemies to lovers little bit of angst and some smut! so i hope you enjoy! I'd always love to know your thoughts!! (also pls excuse any errors, I wrote this in a week with little editing lol)

prompt: doube date

dialogue: “So let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date for a Valentine’s Day Party?”

Pink and red were speckled throughout the entire office, whether it was a bouquet of chocolate roses, a banner of hearts, or stuffed bears residing next to bowls full of heart-shaped candies. Every employee’s section of the office had been filled to the brim with decorations as well. Pink and red ribbon taped carefully around the edges of their desktop computer, little store-bought balloons, also heart-shaped, grouped together and tied to desk chairs. 

And Y/N, dressed in her typical all black outfit, rolled her eyes as she paced through the office toward the one section in the back that was immune to all things heart-shaped, pink, or stuffed. 

She sat down at her desk with a loud sigh, her purse hitting the floor in its usual spot just before she slipped out of her jacket and draped it haphazardly between her back and the chair. It’d be wrinkled by the end of the day, but she didn’t care all that much, nor did she put much thought into the stains on her purse from leaving it on the floor. All she concerned herself with, after settling in, was getting straight to work… which was put on hiatus when she came face-to-face with both a pink and heart-shaped sticky note plastered onto the center of her computer screen. 

Groaning, she ripped it off and moved to turn her computer on before she bothered to read whatever was written on the note. She considered three potential suspects while she pulled her keyboard down onto her desk and logged in. There was Kayla, who worked front reception and was one of the main culprits of all the Valentine’s decorations. A strong contender. It could’ve also been Ines or Carmen, her closest work friends whom Y/N knew both owned a pad of pink, heart-shaped sticky notes. 

However, when she finally let her eyes fall to the note as her computer loaded up, the handwriting didn’t match any of the women she knew, and she was quite positive that none of them would have written was was sprawled out in black ink either.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I will fill your office with teddy bears and balloons, if you don’t send me your half of the proposal by two.

Harry.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin under her desk. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Sure, she was nearly done with her portion of the work and would be able to send it to him before then, but now that he’d pestered her about it, he’d be lucky if she even bothered to send it to him at all. 

She didn’t doubt the promise, i.e. threat, he made on the note, but being surrounded by teddy bears and balloons would be worth making Harry’s life just a tad miserable.

After opening all the apps she’d need to get her work done, namely Photoshop and Illustrator, she connected her drawing tablet and set up the rest of her work station for the day, both on screen and off.

Harry had worked at the company for about two years longer than her and she’d started off as an intern while she was still in college and, after graduating, was hired as a permanent graphic designer. They had never really gotten along ever since Harry—jokingly—asked her to get him a coffee once… or twice. Unfortunately for her, though, they ended up working well together and their boss had stuck them both on the same projects ever since. Especially after the month-long project last spring that had been their most successful one to date. 

While she came up with the design parts of client projects, Harry handled the more technical side of things and they’d never really argued much over each other’s work even though they clashed constantly at a more personal level. 

“I see your feeling festive.” Just as she’d gotten into the groove of her typical morning and had forgotten all about Harry’s stupid note, his voice interrupted her entire thought process. So when she swiveled around to find him leaning into her little office space, it was hardly a surprise when she glared at him, even though he feigned offense at her bitterness.

“You got my note, I presume.” He let himself into her space anyway, holding a mug of steaming coffee she was sure he’d just made in the workroom, and leaned up against the opposite side of her desk that housed a much larger, digital drawing tablet for when she needed to do more intricate design pieces. 

She just swiveled back around to face her computer again and went back to work as if he was no longer there. Pretending to ignore his existence proved to be quite difficult when the very particular woodsy, vanilla scents of his cologne met her nostrils and filled her entire office. Not to mention, the sight of what he’d been wearing singed the backs of her eyelids so that she still saw him every time she blinked. It was as if her brain refused to let her forget what he looked like in his white button-up, sleeves rolled to the crooks of his elbows, all tucked into his fitted black trousers that tended to get the imaginations going of all the women in the building. 

Not her though, of course. She was better than that. Obviously.

He cleared his throat, still very much present in her space and still very much giving her a migraine. “So will it be ready by two?”

“Well, I planned to send it to you before lunch.” She tweaked the spacing between letters of a potential logo for the millionth time. “But now… I think I might need the rest of the day.”

She heard rustling behind her and knew he was shifting his weight impatiently and running a hand through his hair as he often did when he was… displeased. “I told you I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need it no later than two.”

She cocked her head to the side, still staring at her computer screen and not giving him an ounce of satisfaction. “Did you tell me that?” She teased, an amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth when she heard him groan behind her. “I must’ve forgotten.” Shrugging, she went back to her work.

“Unlike you,” he snapped, “some of us actually have a love life and I’d appreciate you not fucking up mine.”

She froze then, only for a split second, when his words sank in. Two thoughts raced through her head. The first a string of curse words because of his assumption that she didn’t have a love life. But the more prominent and worrisome part of his statement was that he did have one. And that he was leaving early tomorrow—Valentine’s Day—so he could get ready for a date.

Throwing both her prickly exterior and heartbreaking smirk up again, she turned to face him. “I’ve known you for three years now and if anyone has the potential to fuck up your love life, it’s you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and her gaze fell to the hand that seemed to wrap a bit tighter around his Bugs Bunny mug. His knuckles whitened and she met his heated stare again, pleased with herself for getting him riled up before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

“So,” she continued before he get get a word of retaliation out, and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs confidently as she folded her hands in her lap. “Who’s the poor girl you’ve tricked into going on a date with you this time?”

Harry had a terrible track record. The longest relationship he’d been in lasted for two months, and that was well before she’d known him. Everything else he had was just a one or two night thing and nothing more. Sure, it was all more than she had, but she preferred it that way. Harry seemed to resent the fact that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

“You don’t know her.”

Her smile widened. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Ooh, that just might be your second longest relationship, Styles.” 

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

His jab didn’t have an affect on her however, and he knew it wouldn’t because it never did. He knew she didn’t give a damn about relationships, or at least that’s what she claimed anyway. He couldn’t think of many twenty-four year old women who actually wanted to be alone. He actually couldn’t think of a mid-twenties anyone who wanted that.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She said nonchalantly, which irked him even more than he already was, and then swiveled away from him one last time, picking up her drawing pen and getting back to work.

“What’s your issue with relationships?” He went on and she knew he was headed right down a path intended to hurt her feelings just as much as she had his. So, she tensed slightly and braced for impact. “Is it a commitment thing? Or can you just not find anyone to put up with you for longer than five minutes?” 

She let his words sink their teeth in and then smiled to herself. “Hm. Seeing as you’ve been in my office now for,” she checked the time at the top right-hand corner of her screen, “eight minutes, maybe we should date.” She lifted a brow, awaiting his next response. 

It felt a bit like a cat-and-mouse chase bickering with Harry and since she was usually the cat, it brought her way too much pleasure fighting with him.

He scoffed. “Like I’d lower my standards for you.”

That one hurt, she had to admit. Not out loud or to Harry, but it still stung because it was true. He’d have to drop his standards to the floor to even consider dating her and she knew it. 

“Maybe,” she began, still half focused on her work, and ignored his comment all together, “some of us like being alone.”

“Nobody likes that.” He responded quickly and she heard a shift of his weight again and then his voice once more a few moments later. “It’s nice to be by yourself sometimes, yeah, but you can’t tell me you don’t want someone to come home to at the end of the day.” He crossed one leg over the other as he gripped the edge of her desk for support and just when she thought he was done, he kept going, “Someone you can vent to about your annoying co-worker.”

She glanced at him through the little portable mirror hanging above her desk—mostly used to make sure she looked decent before meeting with clients or, sometimes, Harry—and saw the tight smile on his lips. Almost as if that’s what he wanted, like he was talking about himself and not her. 

She’d slowed her progress down while he’d talked until she was no longer working at all. She no longer swiped her pen across the pad or had any idea what she was even doing when she focused solely on his words. Because, once again, whether he was talking about himself or about her, he was right.

“Yeah well,” she quickly hid herself back behind her wall and made her hands function properly again. “Some of us also don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.”

She imagined him smirking at that one because, buried deep within her words was a compliment. That he was handsome enough to actually have anyone he wanted.

Instead, when she glanced at the mirror again and found him, there was the complete opposite of a smirk on his face, and as he stared down into his mug, clearly lost in thought, she wondered what the tightness in his jaw and the frown pulling on his lips meant.

She sighed and stole his attention away from his coffee. “I’ll have it to you before lunch. You can go now, unless you’d like to argue some more and slow me down by another…” she glanced at her clock again, adding up all the time he’d been standing in her office, “fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, she listened to the drag of his footsteps as he finally left her office space. And although she was glad to be rid of his distraction, the room felt so much bigger and so much colder and emptier without him in it. Shivering, she slipped back into her jacket and spent the next few hours doing nothing but staring straight ahead at her screen as she made final adjustments to her designs. 

Any other conversations with Harry were had over email as he worked in his own respective office, messaging her with every little concern he had in order to get his work done efficiently so that he wasn’t stressing to finish it tomorrow before he had to leave. Even though Y/N considered not responding to him a few times, just to spite him and slow him down for her own amusement, she found herself feeling guilty after leaving him hanging a couple times. Sure, she hated Valentine’s Day and everything surrounding it, but she’d almost hate even more the idea of both her and Harry being miserable tomorrow, so she inevitably gave in and cooperated with him. She’d probably regret it when he came back on Thursday spreading around the office all the gory details of his date, but at least he wouldn’t also be in a shitty mood. Her days were both boring and slow whenever Harry wasn’t having a good day. And although she’d blame it all on selfish reasons, it did also make her sad to see him frowning around the office and sulking when all she wanted to do was bicker with him and make him smile again, even just a little bit. But it was easier leaving him to his own devices than risk him finding out she cared about him enough to not wish sadness upon him.  

She couldn’t say the same for him. Harry probably relished in the days she came into the office in a sour mood. He probably celebrated and threw a party whenever she was upset, and, even so, it didn’t change how she felt about him.

The sun had long set and most of the office was gone by the time she finally called it quits and began packing up her things and giving her computer a rest for the night. There were still quiet murmurs from other workaholic employees, which comforting her knowing she wasn’t completely alone in the building, since the last time she’d done that, it took everything in her not to have a panic attack all the way to her car. 

Even though her boss told her countless times not to stay past five o’clock, as he told every other female employee that worked for him that he didn’t wish to see attacked after sunset in the city. Of course, when she was the only one who didn’t listen to him, he hired more guards and one of them rounded the corner into her office space, ready to escort her all the way down to her car.

“Figured you were still here.” He leaned against the walls of her cubicle and watched as she startled, twisting to meet his eyes for a moment before she settled and returned to slipping her belongings into her purse. 

“I don’t need you to escort me.” Zipping her purse, she rose from her chair, checking one last time across her desk to make sure she’d grabbed everything she needed to take home with her before turning to him as he still lingered in the opening of her little office. 

William had been hired a couple months ago, and was only a year older than her, but even so he was more than a foot taller than her and his biceps were about as big as her head. While the entire office drooled over him, she tended to keep her eyes and her thoughts to herself. 

“You say that every night you stay late. Just let me do my job and shut up about it.” He smirked at her and when her eyes met his again, sharply, glaring at him, she groaned and whirled past him toward the elevators. He followed swiftly behind, knowing she’d close the doors on him if he didn’t keep close enough pace with her, mostly because she’d done it before.

As he took his spot beside her and she pressed the button for the parking garage at the basement of the building, a familiar voice rang out through the office.

“Wait!” As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough with William’s presence, his stupidly large arm held the elevator doors open as Harry slipped inside a moment later.

“Thanks, mate.” Harry said exclusively to William as he caught his breath and stood wedged in the middle between the guard and Y/N, who was inching closer and closer into her corner to get away from Harry.

“You have any plans tomorrow?” Harry asked, his attention solely on William again while the elevator took off down through the levels of their building. Not fast enough for Y/N, of course.

William sighed, crossing his arms and trying to resist smiling. “Me and my girlfriend take turns surprising each other every year. And it’s her turn this year… so I guess I have plans, but I don’t know what they are.”

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

Y/N whirled her head to glare up at the side of Harry’s face. “Speak for yourself.” She warned.

Harry just ignored her though. “What did you guys do last year?”

Again, William stifled a grin. “I had been saving up for a while and took us both to Paris.”

“Shit.” Harry’s eyebrows rose and Y/N rolled her eyes away from him, watching the LED screen above the elevator doors as they neared the bottom levels of the building. She knew Harry and William had become friends, mostly because Harry was annoying and befriended everyone. Except her, of course. She heard his stupid voice again and wished she could just transport herself directly into the front seat of her car and be done with the both of them. “And now she has to do better than Paris.”

Y/N glanced around Harry just in time to see William smirk and she should have known what was about to come out of his mouth before it did. “Well, I don’t consider much better than her mouth ar—“

Y/N cut him off. “Ew! Are you serious?”

Both men eyed her curiously just as the elevator came to a stop and, with a ding, the doors opened. She flew toward them quickly.

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

Again, she cut him off, turning once she was out on solid ground. “I’ll be fine, besides trying to rid my mind of that image you just burned into it.” She turned on her heel and headed off toward her car.

William made a move toward her and Harry grabbed his arm, “I’ll walk her. Forgot she’s a bit of a prude.” They shared an amused look and Harry jogged out onto the concrete and asphalt until he reached her side.

“I heard that, you know… and I know for a fact your car is not parked in this direction.” She seethed and he just smiled to himself, happier than ever that she was in the mood to bicker with him, because he wasn’t quite in the mood to leave yet, where he’d have to wait till tomorrow morning at nine-thirty to see her again. And she wasn’t always the most talkative person on Valentine’s Day, either.

“Why are you the only female in our building not foaming at the mouth over him?” He asked instead, referring to William.

He heard her scoff. “Just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean I have to be interested… or want to hear about his girlfriend sucking his—“

“Cock?” Harry finished for her and within a second she spun around to face him, forcing him to stop in his tracks just inches from her now. His smirk only grew when he saw just how quickly he’d gotten her all flustered. 

And then, as they started each other down, the hardness in her face softened and she drew out a breath, forcing his eyes to fall to her lips and his smirk to fall from his mouth. He thought back to last spring, when there were numerous late nights with her just like this one. When he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked and he blinked a couple times before he lifted his eyes.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brows, trying to track down all the resentment he had for her but he couldn’t find it anywhere anymore. He couldn’t summon it and say something that would save his ass from being caught looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.

Like he wanted to taste her and feel her against him, and hear what she sounded like when he tugged at her hair for more.

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, silencing the chaos going on in his brain. And then she turned, continuing the walk to her car with or without him, but, when she heard the echoing click of his shoes against the asphalt once more, she knew she wasn’t rid of him yet.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to my car, will you?” He easily stepped back into place beside her like nothing had happened.

She didn’t say anything for much longer than he was comfortable with. And then, finally, they reached her car and she sighed. “Get in before I change my mind.”

As she went for the driver’s side, he took quick steps to the opposite side, watching her over the top of her little Honda as she unlocked her door, and then, after clicking the button, his door as well. They both slipped in at the same time and while she fastened her seatbelt and settled in for her drive home, he sat perched with his backpack in his lap, knowing he’d be out of her car within only a couple minutes.

He still glanced around at his surroundings as she backed out of her parking space. “Should’ve guessed your car would be as neat as your desk.”

She didn’t say anything as she drove in the opposite direction of the exit toward the section of the garage Harry always parked in. It was closer to the elevators because he always came in before her and snagged a prime spot. She preferred an extra few minutes of sleep over walking an extra fifty steps.

And he started up again when she continued to not talk to him. “Most artists I know of are super messy.”

“I’m not an artist.” She gritted out through her teeth as she came to a stop once she spotted the rear-end of Harry’s BMW. Although she knew it well enough to distinguish it from the other black BMWs in the garage, it also helped that Harry had an old, faded license plate cover filled with a collage of cute pictures of puppies. He’d said it won him bonus points with women, but she also knew his screensaver at work was a picture of puppies as well, and no women he was interested in ever saw that.

He peeled his eyes off his car and looked over at her. “I know you can draw, too.”

She paused, gripping her steering wheel. She did enjoy both art and design and she knew Harry knew the difference between the two. She just didn’t know why he always insisted on bugging her about it. 

“Yeah, well that doesn’t make me an artist.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him just in time to find him shrugging a shoulder like he was agreeing to disagree. Even if she couldn’t draw, he’d still consider her an artist because the things she managed to design always blew his mind and if that wasn’t art… 

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to drag you?”

He grinned, and it was almost as if her eyes refused to see anything else but his dimples and the bright whites of his teeth, and the birthmark to the side of his mouth… 

“I’m going.” He assured, and yet he still hadn’t moved an inch. “Even though I’d love to see you try to drag me.” With her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, he chuckled and unzipped the small pocket on the front of his backpack, withdrawing his keys as he finally swung her door open.

Once he was out, he gripped the top of the door and leaned back in to find her staring straight ahead. “Drive carefully, yeah? Would be quite tragic for your bitter ass to die on Valentine’s Day.”

She reached over and, despite having to brush her knuckles along the side of his thigh, grabbed the handle of the passenger door and yanked. His body remained in her way, however, and he was unfortunately a lot stronger than her.

Then she finally looked up at him, and those thoughts he had earlier surfaced again as much as he’d tried to bury them. This time though, he didn’t fight it as he glanced at her lips once more, then back at her eyes, which had widened slightly just before the dimples reappeared in his cheeks. “And I guess I would miss bickering with you every day.”

With that, he was gone and she retreated back to her seat as he shut the door for her. She had no idea what to think about what had just happened. Why he’d looked at her like that again. What that look even meant. 

By the time she reached the freeway, she’d convinced herself she was just seeing things. Harry wasn’t looking at her in any other way he had before when he was intent on pestering her. But, as she took in the scent of him still lingering in the cabin, she allowed a small part of her to hope she was wrong.

Her eyes fell on the man down the hall from her door as she slipped her key into the lock, her brows furrowing as she watched him. It wasn’t unusual for their paths to cross, as they tended to get home around the same time, but it was quite odd to see him sitting on the floor outside his apartment, his head in his hands. 

They’d said hi to each other a couple times in the mailroom, but she definitely didn’t know him well enough to go up and ask what his issue was or try to fix it for him. And after it was confirmed that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his keys, as they sat beside him on the floor along with his phone, she figured it best to leave him be. 

Turning her key, she pulled her gaze from him and disappeared from the hallway.

The second she was inside her apartment, she felt all the weight lift right off her shoulders, especially when her cat came racing up, screaming at her from the floor while also coaxing her toward the kitchen to fill the food bowl. Whatever was going on with her neighbor still very much on her mind, she tried to focus instead on relaxing and getting both her and the screaming Pretzel some dinner. 

She tried to remember his name as she heated up leftover pasta. She knew it started with an A, but her brain was coming up short. So, while Pretzel crunched on his food in his corner of the kitchen, she tried her hardest to remember. 

And it was no question why she cared so much. Her neighbor was someone she was actually interested in, and she had been since she first saw him. Of course, she was never foolish enough to think he was into her, but she still let herself fantasize. He was tall, nearly black curly hair atop his head always in a state of disarray, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen hidden behind his glasses. And, if she was being honest with herself, he was just a darker-haired version of Harry. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

The beeping of her microwave tore her thoughts from the dangerous path they’d been headed down. Harry’s voice rang in her head a moment later.

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

She’d needed to hear him say that, because sometimes her thoughts got carried away when it came to Harry and sometimes she did let herself be a fool who hoped. But after he’d said that one damning phrase, it was enough for her to stop. She didn’t meet a single one of his standards, inside or out. 

Still, she tried her hardest not to go back out into the hall and make sure her neighbor was alright. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and it wasn’t like she was doing anything important. Even if she didn’t have a dumb crush on him, as she did Harry, she still didn’t enjoy seeing him in the state he’d been in.

Before she could work up the nerve, however, a knock sounded through her quiet apartment.

She held her breath as she opened her door, really hoping it wasn’t the boy from across the hall, since she was still blanking on his name, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else knocking on her door this late into the evening. 

So when she inevitably found him there, looking down at her through his annoyingly long lashes as she took in the horrible state he was in—red, inflamed eyes and hair that needed to see a brush rather than his hand—she completely lost her breath instead.

“Uh, sorry, I… saw you come in and I know we don’t talk and this is a weird thing for me to ask but…” He ran said hand through said messy hair and she found her breath again while looking up at him like she’d do whatever he’d asked just so he’d stop frowning.

He sighed, glancing down the hall toward his apartment and then met her curious and somewhat concerned gaze. “Can I come in?”

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

“Well, um, I was hoping you could help me with something and I’d rather not have the entire floor know about it.”

She was beyond confused now, but still, she stepped aside and let him pass, assuming that if he was actually a murderer he would have done her in a lot sooner than this. He had plenty of other opportunities. Plus, something in his face just… made her want to trust him.

She closed the door and turned to him, watching as his eyes scanned her kitchen and where her food still sat before he twisted around, eyes wide. “Shit, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” And after clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you, um… what do you need help with?”

He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple budge in his throat. “I don’t imagine you’ll like me very much after I ask but… I need a date.”

“What?” Again, she nearly flew out of her skin.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers, gauging her reactions and very obviously on the verge of seeing himself out and pretending this never happened. Instead, he stuffed away his pride and went on. “My ex… she, uh… well we broke up a few months ago and I saw her the other day and she’s seeing someone and we were talking and I… told her I was seeing someone too and so she invited me to go on this stupid double date with her… but the thing is… I’m not actually seeing anyone and I just told her that so she’d be jealous but she didn’t seem jealous at all and I don’t exactly have many friends to ask for help and I saw you and…” He rambled, but she managed to understand his predicament just fine. 

“A double date? With your ex?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either. She’s… she does weird shit but… I still want her back.”

Y/N’s heart ached in her chest. As much as she detested relationships, she was a sucker for other people’s relationships and she was definitely a sucker for her beautiful neighbor, even if he was asking to use her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

“Not that I’m saying yes but… when? And where?” She finally asked after thinking things over for a moment.

“Tomorrow night… I can pay you. I will pay you, I mean… but, seriously, you don’t have to do it I just thought I would ask.”

“Where is this date at?” She repeated when he didn’t answer that part of her question.

“At this party… and bef—“

She cut him off. “Okay so let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date to a Valentine’s Day party?”

He lifted a brow, “Well, there’s more… she wants to get dinner before going to the party.”

She shook her head, looking away, “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day…”

“You wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll pay for your dinner, too. Whatever you want. I just… really need your help and you’re my only option.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize I’m not exactly…” she waved at her face and his eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “I’m not easy on the eyes and I don’t think taking me will make anyone jealous.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her incredulously. She shifted her weight nervously and he finally opened his mouth. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Her features scrunched up and she kept her eyes planted on the middle of his chest. And then he realized that she, in fact, did.

“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” He also realized that using her to make his ex jealous would possibly hurt her more than it would help him and he could no longer fathom putting her through that. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry.” He moved to walk past her, back to his apartment but she stopped him before he got far.

“No… I’ll help you.” And then she realized his identity was still somewhat of a mystery to her. “This sounds even worse than what you just asked me to do, but… I completely forgot your name.”

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.” 

He smiled wider and nodded. “I know.” And then his face grew sad again. “I am really sorry I’m asking you to do this on Valentine’s Day, it’s definitely not my proudest moment.”

She waved him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Just tell me what you need me to do.” She didn’t bother brining up the whole payment thing. She didn’t really care about being paid. He was nice, the only nice person she’d encountered in her apartment building and if getting him back together with his ex meant she’d never have to come home and see him in the fetal position on the floor again, she’d suffer through a date and a party on her least favorite holiday.

It was somehow even worse than it’d been yesterday. The decorations seemed to triple in size. Not an inch of the office was untouched by something pink and she prayed whoever had put up even more decorations had spared her little cubicle.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” One of the receptionists most responsible for the overflowing decor, Kayla, called her over to her desk not even a minute after Y/N had arrived. And she stalked over until she saw the package Kayla pulled out that instantly lifted her spirits.

She stopped in front of Kayla’s desk and took the thin box from from her, already knowing what it was and thanking god for the timing so that her entire day wasn’t completely miserable. It was a new drawing pad she’d ordered, a bigger one that she hoped would be a bit more efficient to use than her current one.

Even with her back turned to the rest of the office, she sensed Harry’s presence long before he stopped beside her with his mug in hand.

He lifted a brow at the package in Y/N’s hands just as she reluctantly turned to look at him. “Getting gifts sent to the office? That’s a first.”

She rolled her eyes and stuffed the box under her arm, holding herself back from running off to her office to set it up. “Jealous?” She cocked her head.

And instead of his condescending smirk and a hateful response to go with it, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fade as he eyed the box again, genuinely worried now that it was actually a gift from someone. 

Before either could say anything, they all turned to find a delivery man walking up to Kayla with a giant bouquet of flowers in tow. And so it began. Although, when Kayla took the vase from the man eagerly, a bright smile on her face because Kayla loved love a little too much, Y/N couldn’t help but think about Adam. About how the only time she’d managed to get a date on Valentine’s Day was when it wasn’t even real. Instead, she’d stupidly agreed to help her cute neighbor win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for a free dinner.

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

She felt Harry watching her, too, while she eyed the bouquet of flowers as they departed reception with Kayla and made their way to their recipient. As stupid as she found everything about the holiday, she couldn’t help but want someone to send her flowers. To give her anything for that matter. To have thought about her for at least a second of their day. Harry cleared his throat and she tore her eyes away.

“So… what’s in the box?”

“None of your business.” She rounded him, heading to her office, but he grabbed her free arm to stop her short and didn’t speak until she met his gaze again.

“Can we meet up in my office to finish the proposal? Think it’ll be easier to get it done than over email.”

She had every reason to be suspicious of him. They almost never worked in each other’s offices. When they did work together, which was often, it was in one of the empty conference rooms and it was usually at the beginning of the process when they needed the space to plan things out. The last time they’d really been in each other’s offices was last spring. Figuring he just wanted to get things done so he could be out of the office on time, she let it go.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

He watched her walk away, watched her even as Kayla returned and noticed his gaze and giggled at him as she took her spot back behind her desk.

“It was something she ordered for herself, by the way.”

“What?” Harry whipped around again, not having even realized the other woman until now.

“I know you two pretend to hate each other but I see the way you look at her, Harry.” Kayla lifted a brow at him as she began typing on her keyboard.

He feigned disgust. “I’m seeing someone, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He insisted. “I have a date. Tonight.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay… I’m just saying.”

“I don’t look at her.”

Kayla suppressed a smile and snorted instead. “If you say so. I guess you didn’t also sneak into her office this morning, either.”

“I think all these flowers and stuffed bears and heart-shaped things have gotten to your head.” He pointed around to the decor littering her desk while holding his mug steady.

Kayla met his eyes and her smile slipped off her face. “Harry, please don’t mess with her.”

His face screwed up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like her then don’t lead her on.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of being led on.”

Kayla froze for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that either. “Why are you being weird?”

“Because,” Kayla sighed, brushing her curled brunette hair onto one shoulder and then lowered the volume of her voice. “I happen to know she doesn’t think very highly of herself and I’d rather not see her get hurt, especially not by you.”

Now Harry froze. The hand that gripped his mug tightened and he didn’t even flinch as it began to burn his skin. He heard Y/N’s voice in his head then as he drowned out his surroundings.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.

He had instantly regretted what he’d said to her yesterday when she’d told him that. And now hearing Kayla, in a way, confirm what he’d read between the lines of Y/N’s words… his chest tightened in quite possibly the worst way ever. He’d hated himself most of the day after telling her he’d never lower his standards for her and he could say he was just bickering all he wanted, but he knew now for certain she took it the wrong way. And he wished more than ever that he hadn’t said something so horrible to her, especially when it was the farthest thing from the truth. 

And the real truth, that he was trying desperately to shove away with stupid remarks like that, was that he didn’t meet her standards. She wasn’t into relationships and he knew he wasn’t good enough to change her mind.

“How do you know that?” He finally asked.

“That Christmas party last year… she’s a really happy drunk until she’s not.”

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

“I don’t want to get into it, mostly because I don’t think she remembers and would probably kill me if I told you but… just leave her be.”

He hardened back up again. “She does’t have any interest in relationships anyway, ‘specially not with me.”

Kayla scoffed. “She’s a really good liar.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments, feeling as if his life had just gotten flipped upside down. He’d been in such a good mood mere minutes ago before his dumbass waltzed into reception all because he’d seen Y/N. Because, despite everything and despite the fact he was already attempting to date someone else, it was Y/N he wanted to be close to all the damn time. Groaning, he turned on his heel and left for his office, hoping she wasn’t there waiting for him so he could have a moment to himself to gather his thoughts.

In a hurry to open her package, Y/N slumped down into her chair tossing her purse on the ground at her feet and pulling out her box cutter in a rush of movements. She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t even notice the little stuffed frog, the box of chocolates and envelope sitting on the other side of her desk near her mouse. Instead, she unboxed her new tablet and began setting it up, not noticing the gifts until she went to turn on her computer. And then she froze.

With reluctant hands she grabbed the envelope first, her name printed on it in perfect cursive. She knew nobody in the office who had such good penmanship. Opening the card in hopes of finding out who had placed the items on her desk, instead, she just found it signed as ‘secret admirer.’ Rolling her eyes, she set the card down and realized it had to be from her boss. Sometimes he remembered to go around and give everyone little gifts on the holidays. Obviously he’d remembered this year. 

She dug into the chocolates as she set up her tablet and began calibrating it to suit her needs before finally testing it out in the little bit of time she had before she needed to make her way to Harry’s office. 

And once that time came, she left everything in its place, besides the box of chocolates, which she continued to pick at while she made her way through the room. What she didn’t notice while stuffing her face with candy was that… no one else had a stuffed frog or chocolates or a cheesy little card on their desks.

She rounded the corner into Harry’s office, which was a real office and not a cubicle that he usually shared with one other person who was thankfully out with clients for the day. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention after just watching him focus on his screen for a moment. Harry was cute when he was focused.

But then he turned to her and his eyes fell to the box in her hand.

When he didn’t say anything, she held it out toward him. “Do you want some? I think Andrew was feeling generous this year.”

Harry’s eyes quickly panned up to hers and his brows furrowed as if she’d just punched him in the gut. And she couldn’t make out what that expression meant no matter how hard she tried. 

“He didn’t give me anything.” Harry motioned around his desk.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you.” She shrugged, setting the chocolates down on his desk while she grabbed his office mate’s chair and pulled it up beside him.

Harry sighed, turning to his computer for a moment and then watching her from his peripheral while she picked out another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t see anyone else with chocolates on their desks this morning.”

Y/N just shrugged. “There was a frog too. And a card.”

“And why do you think he’d give you all of that and no one else?” Harry hoped she’d get the hint but he didn’t hope too hard. She was still Y/N after all. And he really didn’t mean to sound so bitter… well, okay, he did. But he knew she’d misplace his bitterness, crushing what little hope there was to bits.

“Maybe he likes me better than all the rest of you.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he put his attention back on his screen. 

“No one else in this office would give me a card signed as a secret admirer so… maybe I did something I don’t remember doing and he’s thanking me?” Now that she really thought about it, and if Harry was right… then it really didn’t make  much sense. It’s not like she was Andrew’s favorite employee.

Harry just lifted a brow and then pretended to lose all interest. 

Sensing the tension, she slipped the box closer to him. “Here. I think you need a knock-off Snickers if you expect me to work with your grumpy ass.” He made no move to indulge her, however. And so she went on, continuing to poke the bear. “Why are you in a lousy mood anyway? Isn’t this your favorite holiday? And you get to leave early.”

His eyes fell from his screen and he stared at the brick of sticky notes below his monitor before mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Taken aback, she searched what she could see of his face for answers to what he was apologizing for. He’d said a few things she could imagine deserved an apology and yet, so did she. Maybe she should have been the one to apologize to him first.

“I didn’t mean to say what I did.” He finally turned to meet her face on. He’d hoped the frog and the chocolates would have been atonement enough, but considering she thought they were from their boss and not him, he just had to suck it up and actually say what he meant.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I can be a prude sometimes.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and then shook his head, “No that’s not… I meant what I said earlier in your office… about lowering my standards. It was a stupid thing to say and not true in the slightest.”

But then she smiled and he grew confused. “Yes it is. It’s okay to have standards, you know.”

“I know that. But if we… I wouldn’t have to lower my standards. And it was cruel of me to have said that to you.”

She couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well it doesn’t matter so… can we just get this proposal done?”

He’d wanted to spend how ever long it took to convince her that it did, in fact, matter, but Y/N was persistent, more so than him, and so he’d given in and they moved on to being productive with their time. And in less time than he’d anticipated their proposal was finished, being sent off to Andrew for approval before their presentation at the end of the week with their clients.

Harry sat back in his chair and she returned her own to the other desk where it belonged, all while he watched her. 

“What do you do on Valentine’s Day?” He asked, just trying to get her to stay longer, knowing that if those were his true intentions, then he was fucked. That he wanted to be around Y/N, even though he was seeing someone else, albeit for just a week so far, even though she’d never want the same from him. 

Maybe he was just as terrible with relationships as she claimed if he always chased after what he couldn’t have.

“That is also none of your business.” She grabbed her box of chocolates from his desk, his voice pinning her in place again though.

“Let me guess… it involves chocolate, your cat, and the most anti-romantic movies you can find?”

He would not think her very prudish if he knew what else she did on Valentine’s Day while alone in her apartment, but she figured it was best to keep that to herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “Something like that.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his arms up behind his head as he laid back in his chair, watching her curiously like he was trying to figure her out. Meanwhile, she was trying to not make it obvious she was staring at his biceps as they just about bulged from underneath the sleeve of his pink button-up. He’d done it on purpose though, so as much as she tried to hide it, he still grinned with satisfaction when she became flustered.

“Well, have fun with that, then.” He nodded, and for a moment while she was lost in his eyes and growing embarrassingly hot, she wondered if he could read her mind. If he knew exactly what not-so-innocent things she did on Valentine’s Day. Then he brought his arms back down to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and watching as she rolled her eyes, held her chocolates close, and left his office. 

Adam arrived right when he said he would at five-thirty. It had given her plenty of time to change out of her work clothes and into one of the few dresses she owned, to at least seem somewhat convincing that this was a real date. She also fixed her makeup and put on a pinkish-nude lipstick before switching out her bulky purse for a smaller crossbody. 

When she opened the door to him, he most certainly did not disappoint. She almost let herself get lost in the delusion that it was a real date when she saw him dressed to the nines and cleaned up for the first time since she’d known him. And she especially got a little lost in it when he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her. 

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know.” He gave her a once over when she wasn’t looking. “You didn’t have to do this for me either.”

She quietly accepted the flowers and let him in while she found a vase and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she did so.

“You look… beautiful, by the way.” He blurted out once she had cut and placed the stems into the vase. Her hands froze, though, and when he met her eyes, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“You’re paying me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous. Please don’t flatter me.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, although he was beginning to wonder if the bigger mistake was not taking her out on a proper date that had nothing to do with his ex. 

She sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Let’s go then.”

He went over all the final details on the Uber ride to the restaurant. Things about his ex he thought Y/N should know about. And he made sure she knew, for about the hundredth time, that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. And she reminded him for an equal amount of times that she never did anything she didn’t want to do. So, settling that, he helped her out of the back of the Uber when they arrived and opened the door to the restraint for her as well. Everything that she’d expect from a normal date, which only left her disappointed when she reminded herself it wasn’t.

She waited quietly, and tried to catch her nerves, while Adam talked to the hostess and gave her his ex’s name for the reservation. The place was packed and anyone who didn’t call ahead surely would not be getting a table tonight. She’d never been out on Valentine’s Day, though, so it was like stepping into a brand new world for her. And as she followed both the hostess and Adam, she paid more attention to all the couples enjoying their meals than anything else.

Except for when he reached back and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers just before they came to a stop. She blinked her eyes at their hands for just a moment before he gently pulled her around next to him. And whatever way she’d felt about holding Adam’s hand went right out the window when she locked eyes with Harry.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The last thing she expected to find, while Laura, the gorgeous blonde ex-girlfriend, stood to hug Adam, was Harry fucking Styles. And what a fucking coincidence it was, almost as if this was her karma for feeling the need to constantly help people. 

Adam’s hand slipped from hers but she didn’t even notice it anyway. She and Harry still stared each other down and neither of them moved a muscle either. Well, besides the one in his jaw as it tightened. Then he did move, glancing over at Adam with a blank expression before landing his gaze back on her again. And then his eyes fell to the glass of water in front of him and she felt like she’d been released from chains he’d tied around her wrists.

“This is Y/N,” Adam’s hand went to the small of her back, guiding her forward to meet his ex-girlfriend and Harry’s current… whatever they were. 

Laura held out her hand, her smile a little too forced. “Laura. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit.” She ushered them to the table as she took her spot beside Harry again. Adam, of course, took the chair opposite Laura, which left Y/N in the one opposite Harry. 

This would be a long, hellish night.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was thinking. That maybe she’d come to crash his date. Or, even worse, that he’d already figured the whole thing out. That Adam was paying her to be here. She really hoped he’d never find out because it was just embarrassing enough to make her want to change her name and move across the country, thousands of miles away from him. Harry finding out that she couldn’t get a real date to save her life… beyond humiliating.

“This is Harry.” Laura motioned to him and he just barely lifted his gaze, nodding at Adam and ignoring Y/N entirely. “You know,” the blonde went on, glancing between Adam and Y/N, “I was a little shocked when you told me you were seeing someone again.”

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?” 

Y/N left all the talking to him. Mostly because she was still in shock that she was sitting across from Harry. And she hadn’t even taken the time to properly take him in and realized he’d also changed his clothes since work. Swapping his wardrobe out for a fitted black button-up, that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top as his shirts normally were. The sleeves were already rolled to his elbows. He’d shaved off the scruff along his jaw as well and fixed his hair so that it was combed back out of his face, although a a couple rebellious strands hung down onto his forehead. He looked… like absolute perfection. And he was being forced to be on a date with the ex-boyfriend of the girl he was seeing and his annoying co-worker. She felt terrible for him.

“Oh, uh, well we live on the same floor.”

Laura nodded, clearly anticipating more. “Is that it?”

Y/N felt Adam tense up beside her and so she took over, easily spinning a lie. “I ran out of milk one night a few weeks ago. He’s the only one who answered the door.”

She noticed a flash of movement in her peripheral and turned to find Harry’s gaze on her again, one eyebrow lifted curiously. He was either wondering how she hid it so well, or trying to figure out what to ask in order to reveal their ploy. He never said anything, though.

“Sorry, um,” Laura’s tone changed as she glanced between Harry and Y/N, both of them looking away when the other girl interrupted. “Do you two know each other?”

Harry grinned, sitting back against his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Something like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We work together.”

“Really?” Although her tone said otherwise, Laura’s face said everything about how she felt upon hearing that bit of information. 

Adam twisted his worrisome gaze to Y/N, but she ignored it. Harry, however, did not.

“Don’t worry, mate. I was under the impression she was celibate up until now.” With that, Y/N kicked him under the table and he sat forward to swallow the groan that very nearly left his lips after she’d jabbed him in the shin with the toe of her heels. “Guess she’s really good at hiding things, though.”

Adam just chuckled nervously and Y/N shot him an apologetic smile, trying to reassure him that this date would still work out despite Harry. 

“What a small world.” Laura laughed, trying to break the tension but dinner hadn’t even started yet. 

Sometime during the main course, Laura excused herself to the bathroom and Y/N almost, in a desperate attempt to flee both Adam and Harry, invited herself along. But she figured it’d be worse to be alone with Laura than with them. Laura might ask questions she wasn’t prepared for. So, she stayed put, as much as it pained her to do so.

“So, Adam, what do you do for a living?” Harry asked suddenly and she wanted to kick him again. Mostly because his tone was that of a jealous teenager and he’d waited until Laura was gone to pester her ex-boyfriend who most certainly did not deserve Harry’s pestering.

“Oh, uh, I’m an artist. I work for an animation studio at the moment but I’m trying to get into freelance.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the suspiciously quiet girl sitting across from him. “So is Y/N.”

Adam turned to look at her, but she just glared at Harry. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Harry titled his head as he narrowed his attention in on Adam again. “So you’ve known her for a few weeks and you never asked what she did?”

“Harry.” Y/N warned, trying to kick him under the table again but he dodged out of the way.

“Well… she said she was in graphic design… not art.” She had told him that, during their crash course yesterday while they got to know as much as they could about each other in a span of a couple hours.

“I think it’s the same thing.”

Adam just shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think I could be a designer, though. Most artists make what they think looks good, designers create things to appeal to customers.”

“Just ignore him.” Y/N advised and Harry was the one shooting her daggers and attempting to stomp his foot on top of hers under the table this time.

“You and Laura used to date then? She never told me how you split up.” Harry moved on.

Adam swallowed nervously. “She broke up with me.”

“Why?” Harry pushed and Y/N looked at him like she wanted to kill him, which he ignored.

“I, uh… I had a drug problem for a while. I was not the best person to be around sometimes. But after we broke up, she helped me with rehab and everything.”

“Guess that explains why you’re on such good terms.”

Now Y/N really wanted to do more than just kick him. 

Adam grabbed Y/N’s hand under the table and pulled her straight from her violent thoughts about Harry. And he didn’t lace his fingers between hers, instead, it felt as if he had just been looking for something to ground himself with. And her hand resting on her lap was the closest thing he could find. It didn’t, however, go unnoticed by Harry and his jaw clenched as he stared at the point in the table where, just below, there their hands met almost as if he was trying to set everything on fire.

Laura returned shortly after that. 

As promised, Adam paid the entirety of both his and Y/N’s bill, even though she attempted to snag it from him, seeing as the date had gone to shit and it was all her fault. Well… maybe it was also Harry’s fault a little bit too. But she definitely did nothing to make Laura jealous. Adam, on the other hand, did a great job at making Harry jealous just by existing and being Laura’s ex, whom she was still friends with. 

The four of them stood outside on the curb awaiting their Uber after dinner was over, agreeing upon splitting one car to get to the party instead of taking two. Laura was apparently very cautious about fossil fuel consumption.

Y/N shivered as she stood between Adam and Laura, wishing she’d bright a jacket instead of relying on a long-sleeve dress to keep her warm. Then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Adam pulled her close, running his hand up and down her arm to form heat. She tensed up, though, forming into an immovable brick. She had no idea the last time she’d been that close to another person, let alone a member of the opposite sex. When he felt her go rigid, he leaned down until his lips were at her ear. “Is this okay?”

She just nodded and tried to relax. Which turned out to be quite easy because Adam was warm and he smelled nice. She, of course, didn’t let her mind wander off too far. He was still in love with his ex. He’d still shove cash into her hand at the end of the night for her troubles and go on with his life.

Adam let go of her when the car pulled up and quickly went to the passenger door to confirm with the driver. Then he opened the back door for the three of them to climb in, Laura going first, then Harry, and, at last, Y/N, while Adam slipped into the front seat beside the driver.

While the car took off, Y/N was shoved into the corner when Harry moved closer to her in order to find both his and Laura’s seat buckles in the dark. Eventually, he settled back into the middle and gave her some space again. When she made no move to do the same as them, Harry turned to look down at her. 

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

Her eyes whirled up to his. Wordlessly, and of course after rolling her eyes, she grabbed her seatbelt and he made room for her to buckle it in. Then she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she stared out at the traffic through her window.

She would have stayed in that exact position the entire trip, too, if Harry’s knee didn’t insist on bumping into hers constantly. And she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

When she glanced up at him, and found the corner of his lips curl upward, she figured it was, in fact, purposeful. So, with the hand closest to him as her arms were still crossed, she poked him in the side, right against his ribs, hoping it hurt.

“Ouch.” He whined, covering the spot with his hand dramatically. Everyone in the car glanced at Harry, all except for Y/N who snickered as she returned to staring out the window.

Harry wasn’t giving up, though. This time, with his arms crossed in his lap, and glancing at Laura to be sure she wasn’t watching, he walked his pointer and middle finger up the outside of Y/N’s thigh, close enough to her hip to make her squirm slightly when his touch tickled her. And as soon as he got her attention, he looked down at what he was doing and pressed his middle finger against her, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

In the same moment, the driver turned up the music in the car as they waited tirelessly at a red light. It was better than silence or listening to his passengers breathing. But Harry mentally thanked him and turned his attention back to Y/N, leaning into her slightly until his lips were at her ear and she shivered for an all new reason.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” He whispered for her ears only. The music was especially loud in the back and he wasn’t sure Y/N had even heard him.

Especially since she didn’t respond right away. But how could she? Harry’s fingertips were still grazing her thigh, as if trying to emphasize the dress she had on. And his stupid knee was pressed right up against hers. She couldn’t think straight.

Though when she finally turned to him and whispered back, “Don’t get used to it,” he knew she had, in fact, heard him well enough. 

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.” 

She hated that there were butterflies in her stomach. That he was saying such odd things to her when his date was sitting just on the other side of him. The date who most definitely met all Harry’s standards.

Huddling away from him, she stuck her eyes out the window and kept them there the rest of the trip.

It was just past eight when they arrived, a fifteen-minute trip up through the city taking half an hour due to all the Valentine’s Day traffic. Another reason she hated this holiday.

The party was being held by Laura’s best friend, who’s name Y/N did not care to commit to memory. In the elevator ride up to the penthouse, though, Harry stood close to Laura, his arm wrapped around her waist and Adam to Y/N, although he didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did, but she figured it was best to keep those boundaries in place anyway.

Pink and golden balloons littered the ceilings of the penthouse. The drink cups were also pink, as was the communal punch bowl that Y/N steered clear of, having no idea what was in it, or who had already spiked it. She knew nobody at the party besides who she’d come with, though she assumed both Adam and Harry were somewhat acquainted with Laura’s friends. 

It was most definitely not someplace Y/N ever saw herself being at, not only because it was a Valentine’s themed party, but also because she wasn’t exactly comfortable around so many people. Especially when those people were all so unfamiliar to her.

“Here,” Adam handed her a drink and then grabbed one for himself. She downed the thing in one go, needing to take the edge off. It might’ve been a slight mistake when the alcohol burned the back of her throat, but she didn’t care too much when she grabbed another.

Then he was leading her into the dancing pit of bodies where they huddled close enough so that his lips were at her ear. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

She glanced over at where Laura and Harry had been left, finding both her hazel eyes and Harry’s green ones glued to the both of them. She wasn’t sure what Harry’s deal was, but this was her moment to fix things and make Laura jealous, so, turning back to Adam, she nodded.

He eased his hands onto her waist as they began swaying to the music. And then he pulled her closer, his hands slipping to the small of her back as her arms wrapped around his neck, being careful with her own movements even though she desperately wanted to sink her hands in his hair.

And, god, he smelled so good as her head rested in the crook of his neck. And he felt good, too, as he moved against her body. She knew it wasn’t real, and that the alcohol was making skewing her perception of things, but it was still nice. Nice to be held and to just let go for a change.

Over Adam’s shoulder, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes again. His jaw clenched and he looked the same as he did back at the restaurant. Angry. And then she realized that maybe she wasn’t really trying to make Laura jealous anymore at all, but rather Harry.

It was dumb, she knew that. He’d have to like her in order for her to make him jealous. But… the way he was looking at her. The way he had looked at her. His eyes lingering too long on her lips. What he’d done in the car ride here. 

She heard Adam in her ear again. “I think it’s working. She just stormed off into the kitchen.” Then he pulled away and she realized she hadn’t even seen Laura. Just Harry. Harry and his stupid, obnoxious green eyes.

“You owe me more than just dinner.” Y/N teased but Adam grew serious.

“I know. And since you refuse to accept my money, I’ll have to figure out another way to repay you.” He smiled and then twirled her around so that she no longer had any line of sight toward Harry. He pulled her close again, one hand going to her waist while the other stayed locked to one of hers. “Suppose I could start with making your coworker just as jealous… although I think he already is.”

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him. 

“Oh, come on! He was ready to rip my head off when he realized I’d grabbed your hand. And when I put my arm around you? I thought I might be better off just giving you my jacket and freezing to death instead.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head in disbelief. It was one thing for her to be pretending to make Harry jealous in some delusional hope that it’d work. But this… this was a whole other thing.

“I’m actually quite interested to see what he does if I kissed you.”

She was shocked at first and then, possibly due to the alcohol, just as interested. “Are you asking my permission?”

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

Adam’s eyes scanned the room and Y/N realized he hadn’t asked to kiss her for Laura’s sake at all.

“She is.” He finally announced. 

Without any more second guessing, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him in. As soon as their lips collided and she tasted the alcohol on him, she knew that she’d never agreed to this without it. Or maybe she would. Adam spun them back around again, deepening the kiss as her eyes opened and fell into the direction she’d last seen Harry.

He was still there.

Still watching.

His hands in fists. His jaw tightened into a crisp line. His nostrils flared. His eyes… sad.

She pulled away. Adam steadied her, grabbing her shoulders when she swayed. But, as she caught her breath, the dizziness went away. 

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” She told him and after he nodded, she left, forming a rift for herself through the bodies that danced all around them until she was in the clear. Then she was avoiding Harry as she walked past him, not so sure his gaze was still set on her. Maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t often just kiss people for no good reason and that’s exactly what she’d just done with Adam. She barely even knew him.

She didn’t exactly need the bathroom, just an open, empty and quiet place. And so, she fell back against a wall in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair.

“That was quite the show.”

She startled at the sound of his familiar voice and looked up just as he stopped a few feet away from her. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted a brow. “You expect me to believe that that you, anti everything to do with this holiday and with relationships and romance, are actually dating that guy?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” She crossed her arms, willing to go as far as she needed to before she let Harry see the truth. That she was that pathetic. 

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to respond and she flinched.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have a hard time believing that someone may actually like me.” She had no reason to nearly be shouting at him and no reason to be saying what she was because Adam didn’t like her.

“That’s not what I said. It’s hard for me to believe you just dropped all your ideas about relationships for some guy with obnoxious blue eyes.”

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

Y/N hesitated. Hating that the truth was about to boil over out of her mouth for him to see all the embarrassing bits of it, but she had no other way of convincing him. And it didn’t really help that Adam was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even convincing to begin with. Nor did she want to convince Harry of anything either. It was clear now that he hadn’t been jealous, he was just trying to figure out when she stopped hating relationships so much.

And the truth of that was she never really hated them. It was just easier telling herself she didn’t want it than admitting no one ever actually wanted her.

She trembled, not even sure why, but he was making her incredibly nervous, so much that she wished she could rewind and stay squished next to him in the back of the car forever. Being that close to him... his stupid fingers on her thigh, whispering things in her ear that made her head spin. She’d much prefer that than standing in front of him now, seeing every ounce of judgment he was about to throw her way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” She shrugged and dropped her eyes to the white marble floors between them, focusing on calming her anxiety while she was no longer looking at him. “He needed a date and I felt bad for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Letting her head fall back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling this time as her eyes burned with embarrassment. “He paid me to be his date so his ex-girlfriend didn’t find out he wasn’t actually seeing anyone. That’s what it means.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“So, yeah.” She folded her arms, looking down at the floor again, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes and see the look that would be on his face. A smirk of amusement at her expense. Even probably his dimples, taunting her and turning her into the joke she already was. “You were right. I can’t find anyone to tolerate me, which is why I’m on this stupid date that isn’t even real.”

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

There was more exasperation than humor to her laugh. “It wasn’t.”

Harry seemed to finally understand. “He’s trying to make Laura jealous.”

Y/N just nodded. “I promise I didn’t know you were going to be there, that he was trying to get her back from you.”

“You still kissed him though.”

She couldn’t argue that, nor could she tell him the real reason she’d agreed to the kiss. That it wasn’t exactly Laura she was trying to make jealous. She’d never live that one down, if she ever managed to live any other aspect of this night down.

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “Why did you kiss him?”

“I’m sorry, Harry I just... I don’t know.”

He shook his head and took another step, making her eyes widen when he was close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. “Seemed like you were trying to make me jealous.”

She swallowed, not exactly in the position to laugh it off and argue with him when he was this close and all she could feel were the traces of his fingertips on her thigh. Her voice was quiet when it finally came out. “Making you jealous would mean I assumed you liked me in the first place... which I’m definitely not stupid enough to assume.”

A crease formed between his brow and his stupidly perfect jaw hardened as if he was biting his tongue from saying something. And fuck him for choosing then to finally stop opening his mouth.

Just then, a pair of drunk guys, one on the other’s back, came racing through the foyer, screaming at the top of their lungs while a few others followed quickly after them. It was enough to force Harry away from Y/N again, enough for the both of them to step out of the little bubble they’d been in together the past ten minutes.

Once they were alone again, their eyes gravitated toward each other and just when she thought Harry might say something after all, he flipped around on his heel and left. And she watched as he turned the corner and mixed back into the party.

After a few moments to gather herself, she followed him, not exactly sure what she was going to do now that Harry wouldn’t talk to her and it felt weird being with Adam while Harry knew everything. But, whatever plans to keep herself occupied no longer matted when she spotted Laura.

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room. 

Without even thinking, she turned to locate Harry and he might as well have been a source of gravity because her eyes fell right to him within a second. And he was watching them too. He knew. 

He met Y/N’s eyes and she wasn’t quite sure if he was upset or not. She couldn’t really read anything on his face, and stopped attempting to when he moved towards her and she had other things on her mind, like where he was going and if he was going to bother taking her with him.

Shortly after he stormed past Y/N she made sure he wasn’t going to leave her behind and chased after him. She didn’t know Adam very well and definitely not Laura to want to stay with them. And everyone else in the room were complete strangers to her. Adam had promised he’d take her home, but he probably hadn’t expected to be making out with his ex by the end of the night, either.

Harry didn’t say anything, not even when they’d reached the foyer and Y/N asked where he was going. He just located his jacket and slipped it on before making his way out the front door.

And right when she thought he really was going to leave her behind, since she was the reason he’d just lost Laura to her ex, he held the door open and glanced over his shoulder at her while she still stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Are you staying?”

Without a word, she sprung into motion and trailed right behind him into the hallway like a lost puppy, letting the door shut behind her that cut them off from the music as it faded into the background behind them.

It was a silent trip down the elevator, mostly because she had no idea what to say that would sound sincere and he didn’t say anything at all. At least not until she followed him through the lobby until he stopped on the curb just outside the main doors.

She took up the spot next to him, eyes glued to the side of his face as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as traffic allowed it to be.

Then he spoke, and it seemed like the first time she’d heard his voice all night. “I’m the one who gave you the chocolates and the frog.”

She narrowed her eyes, both not exactly sure why he’d just said that or if he was even being serious. “What?”

He looked down at her. “It wasn’t Andrew, it was me.”

“Why?” She breathed and while she was positive she’d be freezing cold soon, the fresh air after being surrounded by so many people felt good. It felt freeing and she wondered if he felt that way too.

His eyes scanned hers before he looked away. “Well partly to apologize for what I said.”

“What’s the other part?”

Sighing, he turned his entire body to face her now. “Something else entirely…” He trailed off, only confusing her more as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like all this stuff, but seeing you with him tonight... I wish I had.” 

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a frog.”

He shook his head, grinning. “It’s not just a frog, Y/N... because the thing is,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’ve been in love with you for... a really long time… since last spring. But with you being the way that you are, I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“And then you come in with that guy and...” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life... because all this time I thought you weren’t interested in relationships, but you just weren’t interested in me.”

Inhaling, she summoned every ounce of courage she could fathom. “You were right about why I kissed Adam.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her elaboration which never came. “You were right about other things, too. I wish I had someone to come home to almost every single night I got to bed alone. No one—“ She cut herself off, trembling again as tears stung her eyes. “I pretend not to be interested so I can ignore the fact that no one’s ever wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He had that same look on his face as before, when she’d told him she wasn’t stupid enough to think he liked her.

She just nodded. “And I’m sorry but... why would you want me when you could have someone like Laura?”

“Y/N...” He huffed and stepped closer to her, the heat from his body making her shiver. “This is not the first time I started seeing someone to get over you... in fact, all my relationships since I met you have been shit.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well you’re very anti-relationships so I think I was justified in wanting to avoid you rejecting me… especially since we work together and it would have been really awkward.”

“I don’t, uh... I...” She stammered, not really sure what to say to him even though her heart was screaming at her in full volume. 

He held his breath and then, in almost a whisper, “Is this the inevitable rejection?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate that time and at this point, her mind no longer controlled the words coming out of her mouth as she let another organ finally speak for itself. “No, I liked you the second I saw you, Harry... and at no point tonight was I ever trying to make Laura jealous.”

The corners of his mouth began to curl into a smile. “That was very cruel of you to do to me.”

“I didn’t think you liked me at all twenty minutes ago, Harry.”

“Twenty minutes ago,” he fully invaded all of her space now, leaving the smallest gap between their bodies as he could get away with, lifting his hand to her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I was still on this date with the wrong person.” 

“I think the date is over now.”

“No,” his eyes fell to her lips just like they had before. “It’s not.” 

“You’re looking at me like that again.” She mumbled, out of breath.

He lifted a brow and didn’t once remove his eyes from her lips. “Like what?”

“Like…” she trailed off, not having the courage to say it in case she wasn’t right. 

“Like I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time and I’m tired of pretending?” 

“Something like that, yeah.”

He grinned, both of his dimples making an appearance just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And once her brain realized what was happening, she sunk right into him, letting his arm wrap around her waist as his other hand tangled its way into her hair to bring her closer. She threw her arms over his shoulders and he hunched lower to meet her. She staggered back a step when he did, nearly losing her balance but he caught her instantly and then drew his lips back as he laughed.

“This is not how I expected tonight to end.” She couldn’t help but think the way he struggled to catch his breath was possibly the hottest he’d ever been. Not to mention the tiny bit of her lipstick smeared on his face. She could look at him just the way he was right there and then for days and be perfectly satisfied.

“It doesn’t have to end yet.” She fully blamed her sudden burst of confidence on the cold, but refreshing February night. And maybe she also just wanted to get out of it before it caught up to her and she would, yet again, regret not having a jacket.

“Oh?” She wanted to smack the mischievous smirk off his face and leave him there on the curb. “And here I thought you were a prude.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that weren’t true, Harry.”

He thought about that for a moment and after realizing she was right, he then wondered just how wrong he was when he’d called her celibate. “I suppose… I’d quite like to find out just how wrong I was.” He slipped a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, which is where his lips ended up as he whispered softly, “And I’d also quite like to show you just how wrong you were about me not liking you.”

They stumbled into her bedroom in the dark, Pretzel racing out between their twisted feet in a hurry, screeching at them in the process. Harry giggled against her lips, “Your cat sounds friendly.” 

“Well, since I was supposed to be spending tonight with her, and chocolate, and anti-romantic movies…” She pulled away from him, watching as his smile spread further. Maybe she could actually believe he’d been in love all this time. 

“Right… I’d be upset too.” 

She shook her head and kissed him again, then pulled back a second later. “You know that’s not actually what I do on Valentine’s Day.”

He lifted a brow and waited for her to explain but she didn’t.

“And what is it that you do, then?” He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, although he had some inkling as to what she was talking about.

Her smile was devoid of innocence as her hands fell to his belt. Harry’s shirt had already been lost to the kitchen floor. Her dress hardly covering what it was supposed to once Harry had gotten his hands on it. 

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.” 

When she brought her lips back to his, after undoing the buckle just under his navel, he spun them around and led her backwards to the bed. He wasn’t sure how far it was, but hoped he was headed in the right direction. And because of that, when her knees did finally bend over the mattress, he practically came flying down on top of her. 

She squirmed out from under him, crawling back towards the pillows as she watched him at the end of the bed while he stood and removed his belt completely, trying not to drool at the sight of him. At the sight of Harry, her fucking annoying ass, perfect, beautiful, coworker standing shirtless at the end of her bed where he was also about to be…

He pushed his trousers down off his hips and they fell to the floor with ease, almost with the same amount of ease that her eyes fell to the tight boxer-briefs he wore underneath. She swallowed as he adjusted the waistband back into place, quite certain that, even in the low light, her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bed shifted at her feet as he joined her, and then it took all her willpower to not fling herself at him as he crawled up the length of her. As he settled himself between her thighs and she felt every last, very hard, inch of him pressed against her. She couldn’t be blamed for the whining moan that she let out in his ear as his lips became familiar with the shape and taste of her neck. She also couldn’t be blamed when her hips instinctively collided with his.

He just giggled again and shook his head, the loose strands of his curls tickling her forehead. “Easy now.” He warned in a hushed mumble, his lips vibrating right against the vein in her neck that pulsed so much faster the more his free hand began to wander up underneath her dress.

He left her speechless for multiple reasons, but the main one was when she felt his fingers tracing down her thigh and then, moments later, after he shifted his weight and used his knees to keep her legs open, she sucked in a breath of air as she felt him pressed against her clit, forcing her nails to dig into his back but he didn’t seem to mind.

Coming back down to kiss her, he began moving his hand in expert little circles, grinning against her mouth every time her body begged him for more. It wasn’t long that he complied, either, when he sat back on his knees between her legs and tugged her underwear off for good, throwing it to the depths of her bedroom floor. He wouldn’t have known where they landed even if he tried because his gaze belong to her only as he lowered himself to his elbows before her, kissing his way up her thighs until he reached her center.

When she squirmed away from him, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his hands into her hips after gently moving her dress out of the way. 

“You know when we used to stay late at the office working?” He asked suddenly and the heat of his voice against her made her squirm again, but he held on tight. “And you would get sick of sitting in an office chair and made me promise not to tell Jim when you sat on his desk instead?” She had no clue where he was going with it, but still, she nodded. “Every single time I turned to look at you, I thought about doing this.” Before she could get words out or even a coherent thought, she felt his tongue on her. And this time when she jerked against him, she nearly slipped out of his hold until he grabbed her again and pulled her back down, digging himself further into her as she struggled to breathe properly.

She dug her fingers into his hair when he brought her close to the edge and showed no mercy. And somehow, she’d managed to get the sole of her foot up onto his shoulder in order to kick him away, but it didn’t matter much because he never budged. Not that she wanted him to, but he just felt so good… 

“Harry!” She shouted, pulling at his hair and making matters worse for herself when he moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He let her come, never once lifting his mouth from her even as her hips jerked off the mattress and she very nearly pulled his hair out. When she stopped screaming, her voice caught in her throat because she was lost to her own orgasm, is when he lifted his mouth, replaced it with his fingers and watched her as she came down. As her eyes fluttered shut and her chest heaved, her lungs struggling to get oxygen back into her system. Her hold on him loosened as she came undone around him, melting into his hands it seemed like.

And when he began rubbing his index and middle finger into her, once she was far and beyond overstimulated, and he knew that, she reached down with a whine and grabbed his wrist with what little strength she had in her and pulled him away. His hand fell to the other side of her hip, which he used to his advantage to pull himself up over her again, his other hand taking her dress with it until he was able to tug it over her head and toss it. Then he came back down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on her lips. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and when he pulled away, found her looking at him finally. Although it was with heavy lids as she still struggled to regain her bearings.

Before they could get much further, a loud crashing sound from the other room made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. She shot up instantly, grabbing hold of Harry’s bicep before moving him out of the way and sliding off the edge of the bed. 

“It’s just the cat.” Harry would have probably said the same thing even if it was not just the cat, he’d say anything just to get her to stay with him.

“I know but it sounded like…” her voice trailed off as her feet hit the floor and the moment she went to stand on her own two legs, her knees buckled. He reached to grab her waist but she righted herself before he could. She didn’t see the way he hid his cheeky smirk at the fact that he’d been so good, she was still dizzy.

“You good?” He asked as she stumbled her way into a shirt. With only a groan in response, and what he was sure was her middle finger, she left him alone in her bed to investigate the noise. Sighing, he laid on his back and got comfortable amongst her pillows. And after about three minutes, decided to locate the remote to her TV to entertain himself. 

He flipped onto his side and felt around her bedside table, but his fingers never landed on anything remote-like. So, frustrated, he reached up and switched the lamp on. Again, he found nothing. Looking further, he realized the table had a drawer and so he pulled it open in hopes of finding the damned remote before she got back. 

But what he found instead was so much better than turning on late night news.

“Fucking cat knocked over my vase.” Y/N was back within ten minutes. Harry had left the light on, but made sure it wasn’t obvious he’d gone snooping into her drawer, at least not yet anyway. She crawled back into bed beside him and it was then he noticed the bandage on her thumb.

“Are you alright?” He forgot all about what he planned to tease her with when he gently grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“Yeah. I was in a bit of hurry trying to clean up the glass…” 

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped her hand. “I would have come help you.”

She just smiled up at him as he fit his arm around her shoulders, his bicep under her neck. “That’s alright.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best anyways that I didn’t.” When he smirked, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“And why’s that?”

She followed his other hand as he reached for something and then, moments later, it reappeared with a very familiar pink object clutched in his grasp. “Because then I wouldn’t have found this.”

Her first reaction was to pry it from his snooping fingers, but when she reached across him to grab it, he way too easily held her back and, at the same time, held it far out of her reach. 

“So this is what you do on Valentine’s Day, then?” He flicked his wrist back and forth, waving her vibrator in the air as he taunted her.

“If you don’t give that back to me,” she reached for it again to no prevail, “you won’t be doing anything, least of all, me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Why would I give it back when I plan on using it?”

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Would be rude of me to break your traditions, wouldn’t it?” 

She swallowed, her eyes slowly meeting his again. The appearance of his right dimple told her he wasn’t playing any games. She had no idea how many times he planned to make her come tonight or whether or not she’d even be able to walk tomorrow at work. But, given the stupid look on his face, she almost began making plans to call out sick instead.

“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” She finally asked, glancing at the wand still held very firmly in his hand.

He looked at her like she was crazy moments before he pivoted and pinned her onto her back, settling himself into the position they’d been in before the interruption of the cat. 

Just, this time… he was clicking on her vibrator and watching her face as she began to regret her words. 

“‘Course I know how to use it. The real question is,” he brought his lips to her ear, the soft vibrations and the sound of his voice mixing together like sin itself. Even more so when he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you know how to handle it?”

[jessiquinn]

Moonlight (Nightwing x villain reader)

gif credit: legendofjustice. found it on google pictures.

found yourself in a depressive episode, and who is there to help but Nightwing?

2018-5-14

Warning:

1-bad writing, 2-depressive talk.

----------------------

failure... mission after mission, I seem to lose every single time.

coming 'home' empty-handed has carved a hole in my heart. I feel empty, useless... not even worth a cent.

I never chose to live this life, just because of past mistakes I’m stuck in this never-ending loop.

tears seemed to dry over time, my mental state has gotten worse than before... don’t get me wrong, I’m not ‘weak’ I can hold a fight if I want to... it’s just that life has gotten worse than before.

especially since I discovered that my worst enemy was not other but me... the thought of ending everything and being free roamed my head every single day. This loneliness, no one would miss me honestly, it’s the price of being a villain.

karma is a bitch

going on missions used to be fun, until I met that son of a-. -sigh- he made my life worse...

not even bother looking over the mission details, I just knew it. we fight a little and come back empty-handed. the same old

one time on a mission decided on just ditching the whole mission, instead went to a different location.

your boss obviously got furious, “how dare you do that too me! did you forget your place?!” hitting whatever was next to him.

meanwhile, Nightwing has sworn that you would be in this location today, Batman is never wrong.

confusion clouded Nightwing's thoughts, where are you? --

sitting in some random park, looking over the stars... swings are always relaxing.

I already know the conscience but fuck it- “there you are” a familiar voice got closer to you

decided on ignoring him, “hello?” he said waving at your face with a smirk

“what?” a frown painted your face. “aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?” he smiled at you ”Not anymore,” looking at the empty distance, Nightwing decided on sitting on the swing next to you. “hmm? did I hear that right? seems like the big boss doesn’t pay well” he laughed at his own joke.

”ha-ha very funny” you tried hiding your smile but failed, he sighed “I just wish sometimes that you weren’t a villain” returning to his serious demeanor, turning to face you again.

both of you knew that was not possible, sighing once again, focused on the sky.

”Unfortunately that’s not a choice anymore”, a minute of silence passed “it is a choice” he finally spits it out.

sighing for the 100th time, “you don’t get it...You think life is that simple.. just like that, leave the company, find a job and live on my own with my full freedom, I wish I could but this is not real”

Nightwing looks at the empty sky, thinking... “what if.. you come with me?” his full attention is on you now.

”Are you joking? me and the justice league?”, looking in his eyes searching for a smile, a laugh. an ‘it’s a prank moment’... but he seems like he means it.

”forget it Nightwing, what would the justice league want to do with an ‘ex villain’ that can’t even fight anymore.” kicked the rock that’s near you.

”V/n, it’s true, trust needs time to be built, but everyone deserves a second chance” Nightwing's eyes gleam with hope, his face blended with the moonlight, his beauty is truly one of a kind...

”b-but, they’ll kill me if I do-”, “you’ll be with the justice league, nobody can hurt you” he talked in a persisting manner.

it seems that he really wants you to join him, he got up from the swing and turned to you, “listen, I don’t want to push you into anything, if you change your mind don’t be shy to give me a call” handing you his number.

Nightwing started walking away but stopped halfway “We’d love for you to join us Y/n, I would love that” he gave you his charming smirk.

----------------

I loved editing this one, I wanted to write a caring Nightwing, I hope he seemed loving here as much as I wanted.

if you have any tips for me please don’t hesitate to tell me!

please reblog 💜

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

[nomadmilk]

Dirty Work - Hawks x F!Reader

A/N: I’m not very good with titles as you can see. But I hope you enjoy another self-indulgent piece of Hawks in his rut, or heat, or whatever it is. He’s horny. So that’s good. Went waaaaay longer than I intended, but I had a super fun time writing it! So, that’s pretty neat! This is part of the Maid Tryouts Collab. So I implore you to check out the other amazing people and their beautiful contributions to it as well 💕

Also, special thanks to @/spizawazashi for beta reading my chewed up versions 💛

Event: “Maid Cafe Tryouts” Collab [MDNI]

Presented By: @/izukuuarchive​

Rating: M/18+

“Hawks is a Pro Hero - but he’s weird. And you’re about to find out why...”

Warning: Slow Burn, Smut, Rut!Hawks, Feral!Hawks, Hawks is a pervert (or at least has some fetish for maid outfits), Elements of Predator/Prey, Dirty Talk, Costumes & Lingerie, Corrupt/Unethical Boss, Squirting, Multiple Orgasms, Feather play, Kitchen sex

Words: 4.3K

759'000 - That's how much they were willing to pay for the company's service.

Of course, your sleazebag of a boss takes it without hesitation, and doesn't even give a second to be suspicious of it. With that amount of money, you assumed it was either a big job - where it may need a couple or more days and maids to take care of - or, it was for a client who wanted to keep things under discretion.

E-mails were sent immediately to every worker about the post, and obviously every one was sceptical. The company had never received this amount of cash before, nor had the workers ever heard of 'special requests' for a job. As you scanned the contents of the e-mail, your boss had overlooked a few important things. First off, they were looking for a MALE cleaner. Not you. They were looking for someone experienced, with at least eight years under their belt. Also, not you. And they were looking for someone that has dealt with... Heat? What was that? Like damp walls? Was there no AirCon in this place?

There was no name; just an address, and it was asking for services for three consecutive days. The cleaning appointment was also scheduled immediately, and it was your day off; you had other plans. You recognise the street and the area code, but no other detail... 

Shrugging off the appointment, you were about to sign out before another e-mail pings in.

It's from your dumb, sleazebag of a boss again, needing you to do the job.

You're already typing away on the keyboard. "What the hell..."

You try to ring in to complain, but they're not answering your calls. You even called your boss directly on his mobile, and it went straight to voicemail.

You get a final e-mail:

Do it. Or you're FIRED.

You sigh, slouching into your chair in defeat. "... Fuck."

So, after having no choice on the matter, you were at the address, and it clicks as to why you were familiar with it in the first place. It was brand new; just built a year or so ago. It was a block of flats that had it's own in-built spa and gym. The rooms were spacious and pre-furnished. It was a hotel more than anything.

Waiting in the elevator with your mop and bucket, and other cleaning detergents in a shelving trolley beside you, you stand in idle, staring at the texts on your phone. You try to rationalise the situation; this is good business, and the client may consider using the services again.

Even when you stepped into the apartment, and saw the devastation of clutter and a fetid stench, you plugged into your music. Even when you realised that no one else was gonna' help you - when sweat was sticking your baby hairs onto your cheeks - you assured yourself that it was just a way of managing, and coping on your own. Even when you thought you had wiped mayonnaise off the TV, when it wasn't, you continued to convince yourself that taking the job like a good employee would be better.

It's just another day at work.

Humming and cleaning, the afternoon flies by. Your feet are on autopilot around the apartment, vacuuming the very edges and corners of the main lounge, made quick work of the counter tops of the kitchen surface, and scoured the bathroom, which was surprisingly the cleanest over the other areas to begin with.

Peeling off your gloves, you dump them in a trash bag on your trolley. You wheeled it through the hallway passing a closed door; there was one last room you hadn't looked over.

Extending your arm, you turn the handle. However, as you push, it doesn't budge.

Pressing your ear against the surface, you tap. "Hello?"

"What?"

You frown, hearing heavy breathing. Whoever this guy was, you hoped he wasn't struggling or anything; he sounded rude. "Um. It's the maid you hired? I need to clean the bedroom."

"No, you don't."

"But, it says-"

"Just go." He yells.

Rolling your eyes, you move on, pushing your trolley and its products. You've dealt with your fair share of snobby patrons before; it wasn't new.

Barely a feet away, you hear him through the wall, hissing through his teeth.

"... Ohh, fuuck!..."

The voice filters through to your ears.

It was husky, and laboured. Characteristics of a man whose sole purpose was to relieve himself, but his tone and pitch made you wonder. You panic internally as you quickly deliberate on your browser history - anything on T.V or radio - searching your mind for anything resembling to it.

"... Hah... Sh-shit!..."

You almost shudder out of fluster, not disgusted as you thought you'd be as you continued to listen on, becoming more curious as to who he was. Imagining his face - the hue of his irises under a half-lidded gaze, or the pigment of his bed-ruffled hair - and his parted lips letting those groans fall. You stood in the hallway, playing with your grip on the handle of your trolley, anticipating his next breath with a focused ear and rubbing thighs.

"-Fuck! Ah, fuck! Fuuck!-"

You tap your finger, hesitant to investigate.

When there was a soft echo of heaving, filtering through the walls, you take a second to recuperate. Your head was feeling dizzy, buzzing with the thought of ecstasy plastered on that man's face.

You cautiously leave the apartment; rolling the cart at a pace where the wheels don't creak, footsteps going toe-to-heel to lessen the taps. When you reach the front door, the latches barely making a click as it closes.

You received an anonymous package at your front door. You were just about to leave, running a little late on time, and had accidentally kicked it on your way out. You picked it up - knowing you weren't expecting anything arriving soon - and opened it to see the contents.

There was a note that said:

TO WEAR FOR JOB.

With a furrow of bewilderment you slide the note, rubbing the mysterious fabric in between your fingers. It was lace - it was a skimpy maid costume.

It wasn't like you were ashamed of your job - it just about paid rent, and you'd rather have a paying job than none at all. But there were only a close few who knew about your profession, and it was insulting of a joke to send you the outfit, despite it being so pretty...

You had no time to deliberate who decided to make a mockery of you; you throw it somewhere in the apartment, and you here skid across the floor before locking your door.

Whilst the request obligated for you to do so, you didn't understand why you had to go for a second day there. The books were stacked back up their shelves. All the surfaces you had seen were shining with anti-bacterial and polish. You made sure there was a faint smell of citrus that layered the strange musk by the time you left. Granted it's abysmal condition at first, it was probably one of the easiest shifts you've done... Well, despite the awkward interaction with the tenant...

As you enter the apartment again, it was back to square one.

Your bucket clanging to the ground from your grasp, your nose cowers into your palm; the smell - it stinks, and is much worse than yesterday. Pieces of furniture were randomly on their side. There was a rug that you washed, dried and vacuumed - now back to the state you had first found it. The surfaces were covered with dirty cutlery and ceramics, and random shredded pieces of hardback novels, or magazine articles. If the state of the main room was like this, you did not want to see what happened in the bathroom.

But there was something far peculiar. Strews of crimson feathers scattered the floor, as well as the table, and the kitchen counter tops. There were also blankets twisted, and spread out at particular spots in the room. They were all crumpled at the sides to form ovals, the centre flattened out like a make-shift bed for a pet. Some had cushions or pillows that had been ripped to expose the fluff and... Some were soiled?

Some stains were stubborn, and you had to take off your headphones to-

"Oh, cleaning lady!-"

"AH!" You scream, spinning around. "I-"

You lock eyes with bright irises; the colour of canaries. He yawns. "Is it cleaning lady? Or can I call you my maid?"

"Cleaning lady is fine." You chide, trying to make sense of the situation. "Y-you're the one that sent the request?"

"Don't mind me," he walks over to the kitchen, not taking note of the question, "just grabbing a snack, and I'll be on my way."

Your eyes follow him, studying the tracksuit bottoms hanging low on his waist, and as he turns - grabbing some butter from the fridge - you could see where his wings grew from his back.

"Oh." You utter. "Okay."

Hawks idles around the kitchen as you resume cleaning, occasionally stretching out his arms; mild flexes to awaken his body. Every so often he would steal glances to where you were in the room; observing your concentrated eyes, busy with what your hands were tending to at that moment. Searching for a plate, he peeks around an open cupboard door to stare some more; watching that shine on your forehead disappear to matte with a swipe of your hand. It was hot, Hawks admits, and you had too many layers on; your scent was easy to catch this way.

It was the reason why he got so riled up yesterday too; waking up to your scent seeping through the walls of his bedroom had his hand wrapped around his dick within a lightning second.

Running his hand through his hair, he returns to search for a plate.

Hawks could feel his attention linger, drawing back to you when he has an inkling of boredom hit his mind. He paces to the fridge, agitated and wanting you to glance back. So much so - in the midst of his strides - he stubs his toe on the corner of the kitchen island.

"Fuck!" He hops. "Shit!"

"Hey?" You call to him from across the room, lowering the hose of the vacuum. "Mr Hawks? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah..." He hobbles, rubbing his targeted toe with his thumbs. "Just - uh - It's nothing, don't worry..."

"Well... I-if you say so..."

You're less than feet away from him as he tries to stable himself, retracting your hands from reaching him. You wade back to your trolley through the clutter of the floor, crouching to the lower shelf for a roll of trash bags.

As you unwound the coil of plastic and snap off a sheet, you hear Hawks hum a tune. From a gap of your cleaning cart, you study him from afar. It wasn't different to any other person making toast for themselves, but it was fascinating to watch Hawks do a mundane, every-day, task. There were times you thought he'd use a feather or two for aid. Instead, you see him press a button on the side of the toaster with his thumb; bread jumping out from the top - warmed, and stamped with stripes of brown where the heat had been too strong. His wings would absentmindedly rustle as he spreads the butter across the grilled surface, like they were excited for him to have food; like a treat.

He was lightly pink from the chest up, amber orbs fixed on his snack as he takes a bite out from a corner, seeing his jaw tense from the chewing. There's faint scent coming off of him; you wouldn't call it bad, but it smelt like... Pine? Or, a winter forest. And, when he bends his arm, to take another bite, you catch how defined his arms are; sculpted...

It takes a second for you to align the dots from yesterday, your perverted thoughts hastily reminding you of his moan through the walls.

His head perks up from his food, locking eyes with you. "See somethin' you like?"

With smugness exuding from his tone, you scoff, hiding a fever.

"Into cleaning - but not into jokes." He mumbles, a little too loudly. "Got it."

"Um, Mr Hawks?" You begin, passing the his comment by, "d-do you have cats?"

"Nope." He replies. "Love em', though - don't think they like me."

"Dogs?"

"Love em' too - don't have one either." He says. "No pets, if that's what you're wondering. Don't really have time to take care of any."

"Right... I know Heroes are pretty busy to clean, but..." You straighten, waving the trash bag in your hands to full open. "It's usually because they're barely at home to be making a mess."

"Oh?" He laughs. "You're wondering about what happened here?"

"Yes."

"And they didn't tell you?"

"No."

Hawks stills, knife clattering lightly on the edge of the sink basin. He takes another bite of his toast - a corner piece left of the bread - placing it down to suck and lick his fingers, looking at you as he does so.

"Hmm... They asked you to cover three days, right?..." He says. "I think it's best if you don't come here tomorrow."

"... What?" You blink, more confused than ever. "They? I-I don't-... Why?"

"I'm under my rut." He picks up his plate, walking away. "And since yesterday, I've been thinkin' about you way too much..."

Your lie-in was cut short by the very man that wanted to give you no joy in life. Instead of your alarm, it was his raucous shouting over speakerphone. You had e-mailed him the night before, stating that the owner of the apartment had decided to cancel on any further appointments, terminating their contract from the service immediately. You couldn't protest that; the customers had their right to do so.

There wasn't a second you could chime in to argue his complaints, slumping your head into your hands as you sat in your bed, exhausted - just listening. You could quit. Find another job. One that's not in customer service; a desk job. One that has an ethical boss, or at the very least, treated you with an ounce of human decency.

You promised yourself that this would be the last thing; the last appointment that you'll do for the company. You're quitting.

"I'll give ya' a raise."

"What?" You put the phone to your ear.

"Our client says you've been doing a real good job..." Your boss's tone was still stern, yet there was something repentant in his tone. "... They want a permanent contract. Every year - same price every time..."

"Why?"

"Why? Be thankful." His brusque manner returned. "Did you receive the package yet?"

You recall the box that had appeared on your doormat. "Package?"

"Get to work."

The phone call cuts off before you could query about something else. After a minute of recollecting yourself, you search for the box; tucked away under your coffee table. As you survey the outfit in your hands - perfect to your measurements from head-to-toe - you feel a lump in your throat; like it was dry from pride, and you swallow it down.

You had never dealt with clients that had ruts -  that were in their ruts. It was something you had questioned when you got home the day before, texting colleagues and asking what their experience had been like.

The responses were mixed; they had told you that most of the time the client barricades themselves somewhere. When you had asked about leaving their house, your phone was flooded with notifications of disbelief; it isn't an option for them, and it's a lot safer - for both themselves and others - to be inside. As a cleaner, you just had to work around it, and ensure yourself as a member of a union.

However, you received a couple of texts from two individuals that gave you answers you weren't expecting. You were in the middle of ensuring that the collar of your jacket was covering the frills and the deep neckline - that exposed your breasts way too much - when you acquired a couple of pings in your pocket. They were very late texts, ones you just receive as you arrive on Hawks' floor, - for a second you thought it was probably signal problems.

But you had read the time stamp; only sent a couple of minutes ago with the words:

Get Birth Control.

Your hand barely reaches the door handle, head on alert as you hear crashing on the other side. Footsteps bounding; getting nearer, and louder.

The door swings back, and Hawks freezes the moment he makes eye contact. There was a gap in between his lips, and you realise he's panting; sweat-glazed chest rising and falling without much depth. His arms had a slight tremble as his palm rested against the wall. The lower half of his body is covered by the door.

"I thought..." He exhales. "I thought you weren't coming today?"

"I..." You're speechless, distracted. "I got a raise. S-so, I'm here. For my last day - to finish the appointment, I mean."

Upon a closer look, his pupils had dilated, and the iridescent gold rings had thinned down to nothing. They were jittery as he glances away, and you see him bite down on his teeth.

He gulps. "Gimme' a second..."

Hawks whisks away, the door left with a gap, and a whistling sound enticing you to peek in. There's strikes of vermilion that you catch in your small peripheral; vividly bright, but too fast for you to comprehend their intentions. You hear Hawks a few times, in between thuds and bangs, respiring in frustration out of view. An armchair, being carried obliquely by a swarm of feathers, is placed upright onto the floor. A hovering blanket follows after, being flourished before being folded into a neat rectangle in rapid succession, and lying on top.

Eventually, the noises stop, urging you to push the door open; the apartment was clean.

He's shoving a sheet into the washing machine - packed with other fabrics bursting and drooping out - leaning onto his shoulder and lunging sideways to fit it into an impossible space.

You tut. "Hawks. Hey. Wait!..."

You call his name as you stride towards him, going past feathers retreating back to his wings. You crouch down to his level and pat his chest, the contact making him obey immediately. You hadn't noticed his reaction, too busy gently explaining to him about tumbler capacity, and maintaining the machinery.

Your scent was strong. It was sweet, and rich; incomparable to anything he's come across.

His attention diverts to your legs; netted stockings hug your thighs, your ankles tied with a sweet and delicate knot that kept your heels strapped onto your feet. He notices your head band; velvet black front, and white frills attached to it...

"W-why are you dressed like that?" His voice hitches.

You continue to drag the sheets and blankets out, not finishing your sentence as you halt to process his question. "W-what do you mean?"

He drifts to you, allured; warmth seems to flood from him. "What's underneath that jacket?... You're wearin' something pretty under there..."

His feathers fly, slipping past small gaps in your coat - tickling you - as you feel them tug at the costume. You whimper and hiccup small giggles, back meeting the kitchen floor, quills pressing themselves anywhere on your body; vanes favouring the softness of your skin.

He's hovering over you, and your hands meekly protest.

You're unsettled, feathers getting too curious into areas that made you hot and squirm - yelping as their vanes skim across the side of your neck, mewling as they reached in between your thighs, going breathless as they graze against your nipples till they stood stiff - giving Hawks a vivid picture of your bare body before he even sees it. Dressing like a slut like this... It was like you were begging to be devoured.

"Hmm - you are wearing somethin'..." He murmurs, your face hardly an inch away from him, his hands content on your decorated thigh. A tide of heat washes over your vulnerable state. "... And it looks fuckin' good on you..."

"H-Hawks-"

Your wince is cut short with his kiss. He groans as your lips allow him to taste your tongue, hips grinding into yours, and causing your clit to throb as he rubs against it. His feathers and bare hands clasp on the coat, growling as he tears the useless thing off, yet leaving your maid clothes intact. The outfit was snug on your body, curves accentuated and leaving very little to the imagination.

The soft barbs of his feather fade from your body, hands roaming every inch of you, squeezing your flesh with the need to draw blood, teeth biting on your supple tits and sucking them as if they needed more stimulation. Every cry that slips from you goes straight to his sex, hips rutting as something warm and slippery pools from your folds. The Commission had done him a favour, hiring such pretty thing for him to play with. Every touch had you writhing beneath him, helpless... Needy...

"W-wait- Mr- Hawks- " You utter, breasts feeling sore, and dress falling apart from all the tugging he's done. "I'm tryin'- S-slow down-"

"Fuck..." Through glossy eyes, you watch him as he backs away from you, mouth trailing down and giving sparse kisses. "This is what I get for waitin' too long - what you get for makin' me wait-"

He drags the lace garment that veiled your pussy; humming in approval at the sight of your folds, and the amount of slick crying out of it. His tongue torments your sensitive clit, suckling and drawing tight paths around it before burying his mouth, lapping at the hole where your nectar was drooling from.

"You' sure you wanna' slow down?" He chuckles at your delirious state, hearing the moans and curses coming from your lips. Biting your lower lip, you shake your head. "... Thought not."

The tips of his fingers find their way past your soaking pleats, and he quickly finds that delicious spot that makes your back come off the floor.

"There it is..." He exhales, fingers pumping away, filling you up to make your walls stretch. "Let's make sure you can take as much of me as possible..."

You hear how wet your pussy sounds, only stirring you further as he repeatedly taps at a spot that has you contracting around his fingers, gasping as they curl inside of you. He can't keep his eyes off of your face, and you're fully aware of how much he's drinking you in. It provokes him further as you reach you climax, maintaining the pace of his fingers, maintaining the spot that makes you scream and makes you cum - wetting his entire palm and making a small puddle on the kitchen floor.

"Fuck... S'good..." You murmur, the only intelligible words he could catch as he lifts you up from the floor, and onto your feet.

"I hafta' say, jackin' off to you is nothin' compared to this..." He strokes his cock - white liquid leaking from the tip - with the hand he made you squirt over, lust-blown eyes intoxicated by your slight twitches. He forces you around to spank your ass, and it stings and ripples from the impact. He presses against you and the kitchen island, bending you over the surface as he slides his length in between the cheeks. "... Knew this pussy would be nice and tight..."

Aligning himself and flipping your skirt up, you groan with him as he pushes inside of you, easing in slowly - delectably - making sure every inch of his thick cock is swallowed by your pussy's cute hole. He merely draws out - at the same agonizingly slow pace - just to see your inner walls make his dick spotless; he keeps his blunt head still within the plush folds, observing a thin sheen of your slick surrounding his girth...

With one quick snap of his hips, he's pounding into you relentlessly. His hands are on your waist, gripping you in place for the perfect angle, hissing as he hits that gooey ring in the depths of you. Your voice was beginning to feel scratchy from all the whining and mewling, thrusts knocking your breath and making you hiccup every time, unable to keep up with his momentum - the only thing you're concentrating on, delirious over, is him.

"Gonna'- ungh! Hah- be a good maid f-for me? Keep my cum inside of you and keep the fuckin' floor clean- Shit! Oh, fuck-" He hisses, almost spilling; your walls squeezing him hard for a whole second. "...You've made such a fuckin' mess of it already - wouldn't want extra work, would you?-"

"N-no, M-Mr Hawks!-" You sob, eyes crinkled shut as you feel yourself flushing with heat and sweat, pink walls quivering for another release. "- Ahn! 'm s-sorry for the mess-Fuck, p-please- I'm gonna cum-"

He feels your grip on his length, plunging into you one last time to immerse his entire cock with that feeling; something he's been quietly patient for, grunting as your pussy milks him dry. He coos praises into you ear, grateful for your cute hole and taking his thick load oh-so-well. Yet, you're unable to comprehend anything due to the euphoria overtaking your mind, and skin...

You realise the job now; a blatant set-up covering a Pro Hero and his frenzy. Hiring a maid to clean the apartment? Keeping him inside, and away from the public? No wonder the details were so sketchy...

But... Why did it have to be three days?

"I-is it..." You breathe. "Is it over?"

After a couple of deep breaths, he quirks a weak brow, laughing. "You-... You really don't know much about ruts, do you?..."

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)