#not that it matters what anyone else thinks anyway as long as i had fun doing it

[thecodeveronica]

Annnnnnnnnnnnd I'm done! Met my self-imposed writing deadline with only 1/4 of the day left, phew.

Not 100% satisfied with the end, but there IS an end, and now I can agonize over editing.

Trying to decide if I achieved my goal of avoiding my dangerous habit of... shall we say, "soft boi-ifying" characters yes i know i complained about cinnamon rolling in the past, but this is a different issue, or if in my conscious effort to do so I ended up going too far in the opposite direction. Gonna mull it over a bit about one part in particular.

But by and large, the first big piece to resolving my writing issues puzzle is in place, aww yeah.

[redhead1180]

Sunshine

Pairing - dark!Rafe x pogue fem!reader

Summary - Reader has a crush on JJ, but JJ is dating Kie. Rafe decides he wants reader to get over JJ, no matter her say in the matter.

Words - 3k

Warnings MDNI - NON CON, DUB CON, drugging with E, slapping, physical fight (m vs f), dry humping, alcohol use, drug use, rough sex (p in v), degradation, blackmail, very dark Rafe.

A/N: This is my darkest piece I have ever wrote and of course it's for Rafe. He is mean SOB in this, so if that triggers you, please don't read. Thank you to @haven247 for the beta read. I am nervous about writing this dark, but hope you like it. PLEASE HEAD THE WARNINGS!

Being at a kook party was not your idea of fun, but they had free booze and it was better than a keggar. After the last week you’ve had, you have every intention of getting plastered and trying to forget your crush and best friend was dating someone else.

JJ your best friend since you were 4 and crush since you were 14, was officially dating Kie. And it hurt, a lot. You knew it was coming, saw the writing on the wall, but held out hope it wouldn’t. The only person who knew about the crush, that you knew of, was John B. He was your brother from another mother, and knew you inside and out. You three had been friends so long, you don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. John B has given you hug and told you he was sorry the day you saw them kissing through the Chateau window. He informed you they were dating and you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. Avoiding them this past week, but couldn’t get around it for this party.

You had watched them dance, laugh, and make out, and were completely ready to vomit. Or wait, was they alcohol? I was in my 3rd concoction of the night and was not feeling much of anything. Well physically anyway.

Anyway, you were in the kitchen getting another drink, when you heard the last voice, you wanted to here.

“Well, well if it isn’t Miss Sunshine” Rafe Cameron sneered as he walked into the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Cameron” I told him, trying not to say more and start something.

“Anyone ever told you have a venomous mouth, Sunshine” he laughed.

“Only to you, Cameron. Everyone else thinks I am adorable and sweet” my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I bet you taste sweet” he chuckled. I turned around and caught him looking me up and down. He showed no shame for being caught. “What’s got you drowning in booze tonight? Wouldn’t have anything to do with Maybank and Carrera doing the horizontal mambo, would it?”

“You’re such an asshole, Cameron” You go to walk past him and he grabs your upper arm and pulls close to him.

“Most girls that talk to me the way you do get punished” he leered, inches from my face.

So, side note, when I drink, I think I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. And tonight was no exception.

“Let go of me you fucking psycho!” I hissed at him, pulling my arm. Unfortunately, he was so much stronger than me, my arm barely moved in his grasp. “I swear to God Rafe, I am not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”

“Don’t call me psycho and I think I need to teach you some manners.” he growled right before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him.

I instantly started pushing on him and struggling to get free. I bit his lip and he howled in pain and jerked back. I slapped him across the face, not caring this was Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince himself, and no one ever told him no.

He snapped his head back and I looked in his eyes. They were completely black, no amount of blue left, and had a predatory look that actually caused a little fear to creep up my spine. Something else, God help me, arousal shot through to my core and made me soak my panties.

I started to back away and with each step I took back, he took forward.

“Rafe just fucking walk away, leave me alone” I try to sound defiant and flippant, but not sure I pulled it off. His grin was pure evil, reminding me of every Disney villain I ever watched.

*Oh Sunshine, you really shouldn’t have done that” he smirked. I turn to run and get one of the pogues, but he grabs me by my waist and turns me around to throw me over his shoulder.

“You psychotic motherfucker, put me down!” I yell as I punch his back as hard as I can. He just grunts and slaps my ass hard, bringing tears to my eyes and more arousal to leak out of me. My mind was telling me to fight because you hate him, but my body was yelling at me to let him have his way.

He takes you to some room, locks the door, and proceeds to throw you on the bed. He immediately grabs both your wrists and roughly jerks them above your head, causing you to arch your back from the roughness and your tits rub against his chest. The lace bra you wear offered little protection from the friction and instantly your nipples hardened. Rafe chuckles as his free hand rubs over my breasts and pinches my nipples.

“You may not want this, but your body does” he chuckles as his hand slides down over my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. I continue to struggle, he slaps my bare thigh, causing me to gasp. I know if I looked down right now, there would be a red hand print.

“You’re a feisty thing, maybe we should get you a little more pliant.” He threatens.

I see him reach in the pocket of his shorts, but don’t see anything in his hand when he pulls it out.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand trying to keep the worry out of my voice.

“Just a little something to make you enjoy it more.” He smirks as he places a pill on his tongue and grabs my jaw to look at him.

“Open up, Sunshine” he murmurs as leans in to kiss me.

I try to shut my mouth, but the hold he has on my jaw won’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I feel the pill begin to dissolve as he devours my mouth. God he is a good kisser, I can’t stop myself as I whine in the kiss, causing him to moan. He held my jaw until the pill was fully dissolved, then he lets go, but we continued to kiss. Fuck, what was I doing, this was Rafe, I should be biting his fucking tongue off, yet I didn’t want the kiss to stop. He finally pulls away when air became a necessity.

“What the fuck did you give me, Rafe?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath from the kiss.

“Aww Sunshine, it’s just a little E to make you forget your troubles and help me fuck you without the feistiness.” He smiles down at me. I start to struggle again and hurt him in some fashion. His hold on my wrists and him between my legs really left me defenseless, and he knew it.

“Now let’s get rid of these clothes.” He grabs the neckline of my shirt and rips it down the middle. I screech from shock, and he continues ripping till it is off me.

“Oh Sunshine, you have some beautiful tits.” He groans as he leans down and latches his lips on one of my nipples. I gasp out from pleasure as he sucks, nibbles and licks my nipples through my bra. Thousands of jolts of delight ripple through my body to my core. I began to feel a zing of energy and mixing that with pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips up into Rafe.

“That’s it baby, let the drug begin to work. Let me make you feel good and forget Maybank for tonight.” He murmurs as he continues his assault on my tits, his mouth on one and his hand, pulling and pinching the other.

“More” I whimper to him, trying to get more friction. He reached behind me undoing my bra and let go of my wrists, I moved my arms so he can get off. My hands fly into his hair to push more into my chest. He grinds down on me and I groan, I feel the heat build in my stomach.

I have a slight moment of clarity, where I thought what the fuck am I doing, when Rafe rolls his hips and the tip of cock hits the seam in my shorts just right to rub my clit and I see stars. I moan out as I squeeze my eyes shut and let my orgasm wash over me.

“Fuck Sunshine, when was the last time you came?” he chuckles, reaching down to unbutton my shorts and take them off. He stands up, using the opportunity of me in a blissful state, to rid himself of his clothes. I look over to him and see his cock saluting me. My eyes wide at how big he was.

“Shit Rafe, I don’t know what you plan to do with that monstrosity, but it ain’t fitting in me.” I say in wonder.

“I’ll make it fit,” he said as he spread my legs and slapped my pussy. I yelped, still sensitive from my release, but it caused a wildfire to spread through my veins. He slapped it a few more times, rendering me a whiny mess. I tried to hide my face, ashamed at how he was making me feel. I knew the E was mainly to blame, but a part of me knew it wasn’t all the drugs.

“Oh, don’t be shy now” Rafe taunted as he pulled my hands from face and roughly kissing me.

Distracted by his kiss, I didn’t notice he lined his cock up to enter me. He shoved it in my soaked pussy and I screamed in his mouth. The pain and burn from his stretching without prep was almost unbearable. Instantly, tears formed in my eyes and I pulled my mouth free.

“FUCK!” I cried out “Rafe, get out, pull out, it hurts so bad!” I cry but he continues to snap his hips into me, even though I was pushing on his stomach.

“Shut the fuck up and take it.” He growled as he grabbed my arm and jerked it above my head, slamming into me faster. I was whimpering, crying mess underneath him. He continued to pound into me, hitting my cervix, lips taking what they wanted from my lips down to my breasts.

“I’ll have you forgetting Maybank after tonight and you’ll only want my cock in this pussy. You’re mine now, Sunshine” he rasped in my ear.

“I hate you” I hissed at him.

Eventually the pain began to be replaced by pleasure, my cries turning into moans as I felt my core heat up and the band began to tighten.

“You keep saying that, but your body doesn’t,” he taunted “you might be venomous, nonchalant, and a raging bitch to the rest of the world, but all you needed was a Daddy to tame that mouth and this pussy. Didn’t you?”

I ignored him, not wanting to agree with him. Suddenly I heard and then felt the smack across my face. I let out a shocked yelp and grabbed face with my free hand. My body betrayed and a rush of arousal coated his cock.

“Oh, you like being slapped huh? When I ask you a question, you answer it, slut” he hissed at me.

“Yes Daddy” I moaned out, before slapping my hand over my mouth, not believing what I just said.

“That’s my good little slut” he teased.

He let go of my hand and reached down with both hands to push my thighs into my chest. I cried out as the new position hit my G-spot and I saw stars. Within seconds, the band snapped in my stomach and I was screaming daddy repeatedly.

“That’s it, you little cunt, cum all over my cock.” He grunted before pulling out and flipping me over on my stomach. He straddled my thighs, pulled my butt up, and shoved himself back into me. I moaned as the new position let him hit deeper. I grabbed the headboard needing to ground myself, as the drugs and orgasm made me feel like I was floating away.

He wrapped his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold, snapping his hips into me at such an ungodly pace. I could already feel another release coming. The drugs had all my senses turned up to an eleven, the burning in my stomach, the tingling in my core, the pleasurable pain every time he hit my cervix. I felt that if I had another orgasm, I would fly off into outer space.

“S’too much, daddy” I whine, trying to push on his stomach. “I can’t do it”

He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh hard, making me cry out.

“You will take everything I give you. You’re my little cum slut now and you will obey me” he grunted. He grabs my arm and jerks them around behind my back, grabbing both wrists with one hand. With his other hand, he grabs hair and uses both as leverage to fuck me harder.

All you could hear in the room were my ‘uh-uhs’ and our skin slapping together. I was close as my walls begin to flutter around his cock, but he was too as I felt his hips stutter.

“You better cum before me or you’re outta luck,” he panted. “We’re not here for your pleasure, only mine.” He taunts as he speeds up getting closer to his release.

I manage to wrestle one of my hands free and reach down to rub my clit. The added stimulation almost instantly makes me fall over the edge, I scream out and clamp down on Rafe’s dick. My body convulses as I have the strongest release of my life, but the E in my system causes me to keep cumming tears falling down my cheeks as I can’t stop.

“Jesus Fuck” Rafe gasps, “You’re clenching so tight I can barely move.”

He forces his cock in and out of me as he pants and grunts. Slamming into me one more time, I feel his seed shoot out against my walls.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hisses. He slowly thrust back into me a few times before pulling out and flip me over. I was essentially a rag doll by this point.

“Oops can’t have any Daddy’s juices spilling out can we?” he smirks, shoving two fingers in me pushing his cum back in me. I whimpered and grabbed his wrist.

“Stop, too sensitive” I whimper out.

“Stop being a whiny slut” he sneers before slapping my pussy a few times. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. He reaches for his phone and takes a picture of me.

“What the fuck” I snap.

“I need something to jerk off to when you’re not around”

He shows me the picture. I look royally fucked out, mascara and tears running down my cheeks, lipstick smeared all over my face, bruises and hickeys around my neck and chest. He grabs my phone and tosses it to me.

“Unlock it” he demands.

I do without any argument. He puts his number on and sends himself a text, so that he has my number.

“When I call, I expect you to answer and come to me” he demands coldly. “If you don’t, then the whole island will know your just my cum slut and enjoy it. I have evidence.” he grins.

I nod, knowing he had me, because the thought of the pogues, especially JJ finding out made me sick to my stomach. He tossed my shorts and some tshirt he found to me.

“Now you’re gonna get dressed, go back to the party and act like nothing happened. Your hickeys were from some random touran.” He instructed. “The whole time you pine over JJ, my cum will be seeping out of your cunt. Oh, and clean your face up.”

I move slowly getting off the bed. I get dressed and head to the en suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start to cry. I splash water on my face, cleaning myself up, the whole-time sobbing.

Rafe comes in the bathroom and stares at me for a minute. I turn to face him and he smacks me on the cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and leave his handprint.

“Stop crying like a cunt,” he mocked me, “You enjoyed it, I think I counted three orgasms from you?”

“It was the drugs” I argue.

“Sure, sure. The explain why you were soaked before I gave you the E?” he asked.

I’m looked away cause I had no answer, at least not one I was willing to admit.

“S’what I thought,” he smirked “Now get downstairs, before I change my mind and take you home, tie you up, and use you all night.”

I ran out of the bedroom and went downstairs, looking for my friends.

Walking around, I finally found John B and Sarah making out in a corner. Pope was in another room trying to woo a girl with coroner talk, the poor girl looked scared for her life. The last room I walked into, JJ and Kie were on a couch, Kie in JJ’s lap making out. My friends, wait no family, didn’t seem to have missed me.

I walked into the kitchen and made me a drink and walked outside to one of the patio chairs. My phone dinged with a message.

Remember our deal and no one finds out. Although with as worried as they were for you, not sure they would seem to care.

I downed my drink and got up to get another one, tears running down my cheeks.

How the fuck did I get in this situation and what was I gonna do. All knew was I hated Rafe Cameron and I would find a way out.

Tagging some moots:

@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @babygorewhore @drudyslut @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @starfxkr @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @ch4rrykisses

[catslvrr]

hiding in plain sight

kim minji x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Being stuck in an elevator is bad. Being stuck in an elevator with Minji, however, is very good.

Contains: mentions of drinking, cursing

Song: Glue Song — Beabadoobee, Clairo

You should’ve known that your laziness would come back to bite you in the ass one day.

“Alright,” Hanni huffs, readjusting her tote bag strap. “This is where we part ways.”

You shift weight onto your right foot to bump shoulders with her. “Are you sure? The offer still stands.”

“Very sure,” she laughs as she glances at the daunting stairs on the right. “Need these bad boys muscled up.”

Hanni attempts a bodybuilder pose to flaunt her calf muscles, but barely anything shows. It’s a sad display. Maybe she really does need it.

“Shame,” you sigh dejectedly. “I’ll convince you one day.”

Every day for two months. That’s how long Hanni has devoted herself to taking the stairs rather than the elevator. You’ve tried almost everything to convince her, from horror stories to bribery to threats.

“Hanni, just get in the fucking elevator,” you hiss, violently slamming on the ‘open doors’ button. It’s ten in the evening, both of you just got back from a grueling study session in the library, and you’re about to drop dead.

It’s just your luck that she’s your roommate. You forgot your keys to the apartment, and there is no way in hell that you’re waiting fifteen minutes for her to climb however many flights of stairs it takes to get to the room.

“Nuh-uh,” she sing-songs, performing a pirouette for absolutely no reason other than to rub salt in the wound. “It’s fun seeing you mad.”

You grit your teeth. “I will tell everyone that you were the one who killed Lucy.”

A gasp. “You wouldn’t!”

(It was a tragedy. Lucy was a dearly loved succulent who sat on a window sill at the end of the hallway. Every resident would visit Lucy from time to time, and there was even a Facebook page to upload pictures of Lucy and its growth.

On the fateful day, you and Hanni had just returned from a rowdy night out, and of course, both of you were a tad bit too drunk. You dared her to do a cartwheel and Lucy was unfortunately caught in the crossfire.

Somebody had posted a picture of Lucy, sprawled out on the carpet, pieces of the broken pot surrounding it. Word spread throughout the apartment and there was a solemn funeral held for Lucy. Justice was demanded but the true culprit was never found… because you were her alibi.)

“But I would,” you say with a smirk. At this point, you’re surprised the button isn’t broken yet. You’re also sorry for anyone else who’s waiting for the elevator on other floors.

“It was your fault in the first place!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got video evidence.”

Hanni sags her shoulders in defeat. After a few seconds of thinking, she seems to perk up again.

“Tell them,” she declares defiantly. “It’s been months anyway. People deserve closure.”

She then marches toward the stairs. You hear the echoes of her stomping.

You see your confounded face in the reflection as the elevator doors close.

“Aren’t you the basketball player?” Hanni muses. “You should be jumping at the chance to get some cardio in.”

“I already went to the gym today,” you flex your bicep smugly and attempt a smoulder. “And I got practice later.”

“You look like a jackass,” she scoffs. “Don’t talk to me.”

She curtly turns and speedwalks to the stairs, the telltale sounds of heavy steps following soon after.

You reach for your headphones around your neck and belatedly realize that they’re missing. “Fuck!”

The steps stop. Hanni’s voice is booming down the stairwell. “What?”

“I think I left my headphones in class.”

Hanni spares you no sympathy and cackles as she continues up the stairs. “Loser!”

You groan and decide you’ll go and find it before practice later. You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for the elevator to arrive. It’s taking a bit longer than usual today. You take a few minutes to scroll on your phone for a bit before you hear a familiar ding.

The elevator doors open and you walk in, but as you turn around to press the button to your floor, you see a face you weren’t expecting to see.

“Minji?” You tilt your head as she steps inside.

Minji offers a small smile and an awkward wave.

If you remember correctly, she’s friends with Haerin, who’s your team’s mascot. It’s such a shame she didn’t try out for the team because her height is ideal for the sport. You already have Hyein as a center, but she could probably pass as a power forward if she trained for it.

You notice that Minji is wearing the bottom half of the bear mascot. “Is Haerin okay?”

“Yeah,” she scratches her cheek. “She’s feeling a bit under the weather so I’m taking over for tomorrow’s game. Figured I’d get some practice before then.”

You’re about to ask about how the practice went, but the way she slumps in exhaustion against the railing tells you everything. You take note of the glistening sweat on her neck and the strands of hair sticking to her skin. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat, but it gives her a faint glow that gets you bothered.

“Aren’t you hot?” You raise an eyebrow. “I tried that on once and I almost passed out after doing a backflip.”

Minji looks down at the bear costume and shakes her head hurriedly. “I’m almost home.”

“You’re fifth floor, right?”

A nod. You take her nonverbal response as a sign of discomfort, and so you stop your attempts at conversation.

There’s a few minutes of tense silence before a metallic screech pierces your ears. You both stumble as the elevator comes to an unexpected halt.

“What the fuck,” you say, squinting at the buttons and displays. You poke around for a bit before realizing that the elevator isn’t moving.

You turn around to check on Minji, but it doesn’t seem like she’s faring well. Her face is pale white and she’s tightly gripping onto the rails.

“Hey,” you take a small step toward her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she snaps her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Fine. Just a bit claustrophobic.”

You hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently. “Just take your time and breathe, okay? I’ll contact emergency services.”

Minji nods again and sits down in the corner. You watch her worriedly before checking your phone. Of course, there’s no service. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You click on the bright red emergency services button, expecting static or a voice to sound out, but there’s nothing. You press again. And again. You push and hold it for five seconds.

“Don’t panic,” you flash Minji with an awkward grin. “But it’s not working.”

“Oh God,” she blanches, and understandably begins to panic. “We’re gonna die.”

She stands up, still in the mascot costume, and paces around the elevator. “We’re going to run out of oxygen. We’ll suffocate to death. We’ll run out of food and die of starvation. No, we’ll die of dehydration before that. What if I need to pee?”

The costume makes the passionate rant all the more comical. Her rambling continues as she wrings her hands together. “I think I need to pee. The anxiety’s getting to me.”

You grimace. “Please don’t talk about pissing. It’ll make me wanna piss too.”

Minji’s still aggressively muttering to herself in blind terror, so you stop her by grabbing her arm. “Hey, relax.”

That only seems to worsen her agitation as she yanks her body away from you, her face burning red as she almost elbows you in the face. She squeaks, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” you wave it off with a laugh and squeeze her hand. It’s soft. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage this pretty face.”

In this brief flustered state, Minji temporarily forgets about the panic and slides down to the floor like Jello. You squat down to meet her eye level. 

“Seriously though, it’ll be fine. The elevator has air vents so we’ll get enough circulation in here. And we’ll only be in here half an hour max. And about the pissing…” you trail off and take a quick peek at your duffle bag. “I have a bottle?”

Minji doesn’t reply, head in her hands. You make yourself comfortable and sit cross-legged opposite her.

“Will anyone notice you’re missing?”

“No,” she mumbles dejectedly.

Well, shit. Hanni probably thinks you’ve gone to find your headphones. “We might be here for more than an hour then.”

You clear your throat to break the awkward silence that ensues after. “How come I’ve never seen you around? We’re in the same year, right?”

“Our courses are in different buildings,” Minji says weakly. “My psych classes are far from the engineering buildings.”

“You already know what course I do?” You grin cheekily. “You must be a big fan.”

Minji hastily lifts her face, showcasing a burning blush. “No! I just… heard it from Haerin, that’s all.”

Your grin only widens. Like Haerin would ever talk about the team. She’s only there for the free post-game feeds. You choose to feign ignorance for her sake.

“You should take that off,” you suggest, noticing how Minji is uncomfortably squirming in the costume. “I’ll help with the zipper.”

“Okay,” Minji stammers, scrambling to get up on her feet.

You brush away some of her hair that’s covering the zipper and move it over her shoulder. Your fingers briefly brush over her neck, and all you can feel is how she’s burning hot. Minji almost imperceptibly shivers and jolts forward, choking on air. You pull the zipper down and watch with mirth as she clumsily wrestles out of the costume.

Minji stuffs it in her backpack and flops back down, hugging her backpack in her lap. You follow suit and sit a few inches away from her.

“Much better?”

She nods, still avoiding your gaze. You bite your cheek as you stare at her, trying to figure out a way to make conversation. You decide to fish your phone out of your pocket and pull up a recording of your last game, flashing her your screen as you pat the empty space next to you. “You wanna watch?”

Minji hesitates for a few seconds before shuffling closer. Her voice is small as she admits, “I was watching this game on the sidelines.”

You’re filled with a sense of pride at the news. But you also make a mental note to ponder on why you haven’t noticed her around before. “Really?”

“It’s not because of you or anything,” she adamantly denies, rubbing her nape, though you feel like her red cheeks contradict that.

“Anyone catch your eye?”

Her denial is half-hearted.

You pout teasingly. “Shame. I’ll play better next game.”

You save Minji from further embarrassment and press play. “You know how basketball works, right?”

“Each team has five players on the court… and the ball goes in the hoop?” Minji frowns.

“And?”

“And… you can’t run with the ball.”

“Basically,” you chuckle. “But there’s more to it.”

You rewind the video back to the beginning. “I hope you don’t mind me commentating.”

She shakes her head, and so you continue. “So this is one of the simplest plays in basketball: a pick and roll…”

You eventually finish the video and end up versing each other on the table hockey app on your phone. She’s surprisingly competitive and it’s endearing. You then somehow end up talking about card games, and you introduce her to the world of Inscryption through a gameplay video.

Halfway through the video, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder. You crane your neck slightly and see Minji’s sleeping face. You smile and continue watching until you slowly drift off to sleep as well.

You’re both awoken with a sudden thud. Minji practically springs off of you and profusely apologizes, much to your amusement. You look up to see a firefighter opening the emergency escape hatch.

“You ladies alright?”

“Yes sir,” you drawl, checking your phone. “It’s just been two hours, no biggie.”

A ladder is dropped from the hatch and you both climb up, stretching your limbs as you stand on top of the elevator.

“This is so sick,” you pose as you take selfies. “I feel like I’m in some action movie.”

You tilt your phone to include Minji in the photos, and you laugh because she looks like she’s being held hostage.

The two of you are harnessed on some rope and pulled up by firefighters to safety. You’re shocked to see Haerin and Hanni there waiting. Hanni practically storms toward you and latches herself onto you like a koala, crying dramatically about your disappearance. You thank the firefighters as they pack up their equipment and begin to disperse.

“Hey Haerin,” you greet her with a strained voice, trying to peel Hanni off you. “You feeling better?”

“No,” she replies nasally. There’s a tissue stuffed in her right nostril. “But I’ll be there next game.”

You gift her with a slap on the back which earns you one in return, and you curse under your breath because she definitely hit you harder than you hit her. You ignore the stinging pain and swivel to meet Minji’s gaze that is already on you.

“Keep an eye on me next game?” You ask nonchalantly, but you must admit there’s a small part of you that twinges with hope. “I’ll play super duper good for you.”

Minji’s eyes widen in surprise before timidly answering with a stutter, “I will.”

“I’ll see you then!” You leave her with a side hug (where she awkwardly pats your back) before approaching Hanni. She gives you an eyebrow wiggle that you roll your eyes to in response. She is a hundred percent going to interrogate you at home. Both of you start the long climb to the apartment.

“Karma’s a bitch,” Hanni says obnoxiously. “That’s what you get for not taking the stairs.”

“Shut up JoJo Siwa,” you glower at her, but a lame grin graces your face when you remember your time spent with Minji. “I’d say it was a good thing.”

“Ew,” she gags. “Wipe that dopey smile off your face.”

You abruptly stop and grab Hanni’s arm. She turns around in confusion and sees your aghast expression. “What?”

“I missed practice. Yujin is gonna kill me.”

Tomorrow comes quicker than you expected, and you’re buzzing with nerves as you warm up on the sidelines. It’s not an important game, but your hands tremble a bit more today. You scan the court for a certain someone.

Danielle throws you a Gatorade. “Who are you looking for?”

“No one,” you blurt out a bit too quickly. You take a swig from the bottle to wash away your anxiety as you seat yourself on a bench.

“You sure?” Danielle quips with a knowing smile. “You’re shaking.”

You slam the bottle on the bench to shut down her jest. 

“Shouldn’t you be with Hyein?” You scowl as you shoo her away. “Go be a supportive friend and give her some encouraging words or something.”

Any lingering embarrassment flies out the window when you spot a big bear entering the building. You wave her over and laugh as she trips over someone’s stranded bag.

“Hi,” you smile.

You can barely hear Minji’s muffled voice through the head. “Hi.”

Your smile twitches as Hyein and Danielle appear behind Minji and start pulling childish faces. Your glare and subtle middle finger sends them away. “Wish me luck?”

The referee whistles as a signal for players to get on the court. Minji gives an awkward thumbs up, so you accept the fact that you have to initiate contact. You lean forward and kiss the stupid bear head. It’s a bit weird, but it’s worth it because you hear Minji’s breath hitch. 

She runs away promptly after. The game starts and you’ve never felt so motivated in your life.

The other team is irritatingly good at three-pointers, but your team’s size provides you with a solid advantage; you’re able to fight back through rebounding and shots inside the paint.

Your teammates are a bit puzzled at first when you keep hogging the ball and taking contested shots, but they’re not mad because you’re making them. The bewilderment quickly turns to disbelief when they realize you keep looking at the mascot after every shot.

“You’re so annoying,” Yujin grumbles during the half-time break. “This is not High School Musical.”

“Stop complaining, grandma.” You can feel your muscles ache from the overexertion, but the goal of impressing Minji takes priority. “We’re up by 20.”

“I think it’s cute!” Hyein interjects with an encouraging pinch of your cheek. “I can’t see Minji’s face but I bet she’s in love.”

Everyone turns as they hear a loud smack that resonates throughout the building. Minji’s sprawled on the floor after a failed backflip.

“She’s so cute,” you giggle, disregarding your teammate’s exasperated groans and mock punches.

The rest of the game is a breeze, but there are a few frustrating turnovers here and there that shorten the lead to nine when the final whistle blows.

You slither away from the team huddle and plop yourself down next to Minji. She’s gulping down water at a scarily excessive pace. You wait for her as she squeezes every last drop from the bottle and lets out a big wheeze afterwards.

“Tired?”

Minji nods and gratefully accepts the towel. You admire her as she wipes sweat off her neck and face.

“So,” you chirp. “How was the game?”

“You did really well,” she admits meekly.

Your chest puffs up at the praise. “So you’ll be watching from the front row for all my games from now on? I wanna see you.”

Minji’s taken aback by your forwardness, but nods shyly.

You’re still bouncing with adrenaline. “Did you see that and-one layup I made? And the no-look pass? And the—”

You stop rambling as you realize Minji’s not responding and spacing out. More specifically, spacing out and staring at your lips.

“Kiss me,” you say.

Minji literally jumps on the spot and almost screams, “What?”

“Kiss me,” you say again simply. “You want to and I want to. What’s stopping you?”

She audibly gulps and averts her gaze to hide her dilated pupils. “No, I was just distracted by something else, really…”

You roll your eyes and tug on the collar of the mascot costume to pull her in for a kiss. You feel her whole body stiffen and she makes a strangled noise, but then she melts and kisses you back for a few seconds before you pull away.

“Your lips are soft,” you smile casually, but you can feel the hammering of your heart.

“Thanks,” Minji’s voice wavers. “You too.”

“I like you,” you continue. “We should go on a date.”

“Really?” She stumbles over her words, still slightly dazed. “Are you sure?”

You hum in affirmation.

“Okay,” she squeaks.

“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. You stand up and take her hand to pull her up as well. “Let’s go eat. The team is probably waiting for us outside.”

“Wait!” She yanks you back. “Let me get out of this costume first…”

“Do you need help with the zipper again?”

“…Yes please.”

Dedicated to user rosiehrs... hope this minji was 'loser' enough for you

[moonstruckme]

can i request some poly!marauders where reader tells them they love them for the first time… but like sooo passionate and sappy, maybe some tears of relief.. ugh i love your writing sm 😭😭

Of course you can sweetheart, sorry it took me a bit to get to it!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Lately it’s like you can hardly stop yourself. You’ll get off the phone with James, or Remus will let you run your fingers over his scars, or Sirius will braid your hair for you, and you’ll want to say Ugh, I love you.

In some ways, you feel a bit silly for agonizing over it. You know the boys have been saying it to each other for years, platonically before romantically, so sometimes it feels like you’re a bit behind the curve. Sirius flings it about like he has love in endless supply (and from what you can tell, he does). Evans, you know I love you, but that hat is a crime and You have a great personality, Prongs, but I love those big shoulders most of all and Is that drink for me, Marls? I knew I loved you for a reason. And it’s such a small thing, objectively, just three words in their natural order, but it also feels like sort of a big deal. 

You do love them. So much it sometimes feels like your heart swells until it crowds out your lungs and steals your breath, but telling them is no simple matter. Do you tell them together? That feels like making a big deal out of things, like calling a family meeting or something. But if you tell them separately, you’d have to pick an order, and that could only go poorly, too. You don’t want it to be an announcement, though you don’t just want to blurt it out like it’s nothing, either. Maybe it is to some people, maybe even to them (although you don’t think so), but it’s not to you. You’ve never loved anyone like this before, let alone three people. The severity of it had hit you like a truck, all at once, vaulting you into love faster than you could catch your breath. 

It's a new feeling to you, this romantic sort of love, but you have enough acumen to recognize magic when you feel it. No matter how much you hate being at the center of attention, you aren't going to trivialize that. 

The confession tempts your tongue now, sitting on the bathroom counter with Sirius between your legs and James sitting on the floor beside him. 

“I just think you would look cute with a couple little braids.” Sirius’ breath fans your face as he speaks, one hand on your cheek to keep you still as he does your eyeliner. 

“I don’t want to look cute,” James argues. “And everyone else thinks my hair looks great as it is, thank you.” 

“Cute isn’t the right word. Rakish. Kind of like a pirate.” 

“You can’t change the terminology to fool me. I look rakish every day, don’t I Moony?”

“You do.” Remus comes to lean in the open doorway, pulling on his socks. “Though I do think a braid would be fun to try, sometime.” 

Sirius takes only a moment to relish in this small triumph before he's frowning. “You are not wearing that to the party.” 

Remus looks down at his faded green sweater. “It looks like I am. I don’t intend to shiver during the walk there.” 

Sirius scoffs, and James, spotting a pot to stir, says, “I like you in that sweater, actually.” 

Remus knows exactly what his boyfriend is doing, but he smirks anyway. “Thank you, Prongs. It’s like we’re his little projects, aren’t we? At least someone doesn’t want to change me.” 

Everyone’s eyes find you, waiting to see what side you’ll pick. You burn under the spotlight. “I think you look great either way.” You shrug, but stop when Sirius hisses sharply, his grip tightening on your face. 

Remus eyes you, something searching in his gaze that you don’t like. You can never hide a thought for long before he susses you out. But to your surprise, it’s Sirius who says, “You okay, sweet thing? You’re being even quieter than usual. You still want to go, yeah?”

“Yeah, I wanna go,” you say quickly. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, finishing up with your eyeliner and stepping back to look at you. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You squirm, pinned like a butterfly beneath his gaze. “It’s nothing, it’s silly.” 

A poor choice. Now you have everyone’s full attention. 

“I’m sure it’s not silly.” James smiles at you encouragingly. “What is it?”

You start to pick at your nails, but Sirius' eyes narrow at them, and you stop. “I just…I’ve been thinking lately.” 

A beat passes before Remus fills the silence. “That’s always a good thing,” he says slowly, amusedly. “C’mon, dove, out with it.” 

This isn’t how you wanted this to go. You’re on the spot. It’s going to feel like a forced confession. They’re expecting something silly and light—I just don’t feel like my outfit is going to work for tonight—and you feel like you’re about to drop a bomb on them in comparison. 

In the end, you give yourself away before you say the words. “Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, and I just need you to know I mean it, but I don’t need it to be…reciprocated.” 

Sirius cocks his head at you, and you decide to burst the bubble of tension before it can expand any further. 

“Just, I love you.” 

And maybe you wanted it to be like when Sirius says it, like he’s thrown confetti and everyone seems brighter and happier for it, but each word falls heavily from your lips, landing at the feet of your boyfriends for them to decide what to do with. Why did you add in a “just”? There’s nothing just about this. It’s a humiliating attempt at downplaying the phrase, and painfully ineffective too. You feel like you could light yourself on fire with the intensity of your embarrassment.

"Argh, sweetheart,” James says after an impossibly long beat, “I wanted to say it first.” 

“No fucking way.” Sirius whirls on him. “You were gonna say it and you didn’t tell me? I was waiting for one of you to do it first.” 

“Dove,” Remus says, relaxing against the doorframe, “I think we’ve all been feeling the same way for some time. Thank you for having the confidence to say it first.” 

You beam so hard your cheeks start to hurt almost instantly. “Yeah?”

“Color me impressed,” Sirius says. “This whole time you've played coy, but you’ve got more balls than any of the rest of us, haven’t you?” He pauses. “Wait, are you crying?”

“Oh, um, I guess so,” you reply when you touch a fingertip to your lower lashes and it comes away wet. “I’m just relieved, I guess. I was pretty nervous.” 

Sirius grabs some toilet paper, pressing a wad under each of your eyes. “Well shit, don’t fuck up your eyeliner, baby. It was never that dire, not like anyone wasn’t going to say it back.” 

“Well, I wasn’t going in with any expectations,” you mumble, holding your makeshift tissues. 

“Sweetheart,” James whines, his bottom lip beginning to tremble sympathetically. “How could you think we wouldn't? I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much,” you counter, laughing even as the paper under your eyes grows damp. “I’ve been wanting to say it forever. I feel so lucky to have you guys, you know?”

Remus crosses the room, forcing you to discard your toilet paper clumps as he takes your face in his hands, kissing your salty cheeks. “We’re lucky to have found you,” he says, and the words are even, sure. “I don’t say it often enough, but I love you all too. You’re everything to me.” 

“Oh, fuck all of you,” Sirius says, blinking rapidly to save his own sparkly eyeliner. “Obviously you’re the best things that’ve ever happened to me. Pricks.” 

Your laugh is wet, and you wonder if you’re peaking right now or if you’ll be this happy forever. With the three of them around you, you’re betting on the latter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Think you could fix my makeup before we go, Siri? Please?”

He huffs, but the kiss he presses to your lips is syrupy sweet. “We are going to be well past fashionably late.”

[artists-ally]

Hi! So I was the anon that asked about size difference and I’m happy that you like it :) my request would be Harvey with a reader that’s on the shorter or petite side. Harvey cannot contain the thoughts running through his mind when his clothes easily drown you or how both your hands can be covered by his. I can just imagine him fucking the reader deep and groaning when he sees her tummy bulge 🙈

{My Hands, Your Lips} Reader x Harvey Specter

I'm gonna pretend I'm not as turned on by the thought of Harvey pushing my knees up to my ears and making fun of how much smaller I am than he is. Toootalllyyy not gonna do that... ahaha- Anywaaayyy enjoy!!! Title inspired by this song.

Word Count: 6,366

Warnings: Petite/Small reader, Smut; size kink, dom!Harvey, spitting, choking, degrading, spanking, bondage, mild breeding kink.

Tagging: @rosedpetal @blacktreacle22 @bbyanarchist

~~~~~

“Harvey, don't you think I should wear heels with the dress? If I don’t then I barely come up to your chest.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “No heels.”

“Why are you so adamant that I shouldn’t wear heels tonight?” I didn’t mind taking opinions from him every once in a while, but he rarely tells me not to wear something. 

“You don’t need to make yourself taller, Yn,” he whispered, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You’re too fucking pretty for anyones good, and I don’t need the people at this party thinking they have a chance.”

There has been something off about him for the last few days anyway. He’s been more pent up than usual. A lot more… touchy. Specifically picking me up and putting me wherever he wants. Setting me on the counter while he’s cooking, picking me up and throwing me on the bed before we go to sleep. Nothing overly sexual, but it’s clear there’s been something else going on.

“What’s been up with you lately?” I ask straight up. 

“Nothing, I just don’t want you to wear heels.”

“Why don’t you want me to wear heels?”

“Because, I asked you not to.”

I tilted my head to the side. Let's see if this theory is correct. “Is it because you want me to be smaller than you?”

“Yn, don’t.”

Ding ding ding!

A smirk brightens onto my face. I’ve suspected for a while now that Harvey has a thing for how much smaller I am than him. It’s clear he’s been trying to tell me– or rather cryptically showing me by physically demonstrating so.

The grin only gets wider.

“I asked you nicely once. Don’t.”

I rolled my eyes, “Fine, you win. Be mysterious and oddly demanding about what I wear.”

Before I could even reach for the pair of heels I was planning to wear, Harvey had gripped my arm, spun me around, and his hand was around my throat.

“You know no matter what you wear, you look stunning. And if you must know, I think everyone’s focus is going to be on you anyway tonight. And I don’t need everyone staring at what’s mine.”

Oh. OH. Oh my. 

I genuinely didn’t have a response other than a shiver rolling through my body. I knew he felt it because his grip tightened, both on my hip and around my neck.

“You know you can wear whatever you want, but just know, I’m willing to deal with the consequences of anyone who looks for too long.”

“Harvey, that’s a little extreme,” I chuckle, trying to make light of a clearly serious topic for him. “What about this particular event has got you so stressed out about everyone looking at me?”

“It’s our first formal, corporate event together,” Harvey explains. “No one has ever seen you all dressed up. And I’m not sure I want them to because… fuck, Yn you looks so good tonight.” The compliment makes my heart mushy. “Harvey, you know I’d never-”

“It’s not about that. Of course I know you won’t let anything happen. It’s everyone else’s grubby little hands I’m worried about. It’s a dog eat dog mentality in the world of law. Everyone at the event is not afraid to take what they want, go after it with everything they’ve got.”

“So it’s going to be a room full of men like you? And Jessica, of course. I’m excited to meet more women like Jessica. Oh! Will–”

Harvey cuts off my question with a deep laugh. He spins me around and places his hands on my hips while he looks down at me. “I literally just told you that every man here will want to have a piece of you, and you’re more worried about meeting more women like Jessica?”

“Yup,” I nod, pressing up on my toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Because I know you will keep me safe.”

I watched his eyes change. The smile faded and I felt his grip tighten. Again. “Fuck Yn you always know just what to say.”

I let my arms fall around his shoulders, our fronts cradled close. “And I say lets get the fuck out of here and go party.”

~~~~~~

Ray stops the car at the base of the staircase that led up to this gorgeous venue. We were in Washington D.C. for this conference. Lawyers and other legal personnel from all over the country were invited to network and do whatever other corporate bullshit they desire. There were guest speakers, of which Jessica was invited to give a talk on her journey of being a first in class Harvard graduate.

Bad. Ass. 

There had been a convention with a ton of vendors, a cooking class, and a shitload of corporate jargon. Being in a room, albeit a very big room, with hundreds of lawyers was starting to eat away at my brain cells. I’m glad it’s the last event of the week. 

The gala. 

The streets were lined with luxurious cars and limos, guests exiting and ascending the staircase in their finest glam. Everyone looks exquisite and propper. Who doesn’t love to play dress-up every now and then?

Per Harvey’s request, I did not wear heels. I settled for a pair of black sandals with a pearled band around the ankle. They did have a small heel. Frankly everything I wore that wasn’t flip-flops had a bit of a heel to it. But they weren’t the stiletto pumps I was going to dawn instead. 

I had bought those shoes to specifically go with this dress too. And this dress… It had one inch straps that formed a square neckline. The bodice had corset paneling that was lined with sheer lace. The skirt hugged my hips and then the slit opened it up. Gorgeous. And I had a coupon. Win win. 

With my hand wrapped around Harvey’s arm, we walked in together, greeting people left and right. I was finally beginning to understand just how powerful Harvey actually is in the world of law. Everyone knows he is. Sean Evans, a guest speaker from Seattle, even knew who he was. We were watching his speech on how to give a thorough deposition, and he called Harvey out by name from the crowd.

Wild shit going on here. I was just content being arm candy all night. 

“Ahh, there he is,” Jessica calls out from the cocktail bar. “Harvey, Yn, this is Michael Bunting, one of my old professors from Harvard.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Specter. I’ve heard many things about you, glad to finally be able to meet in person,” Michael smiled pleasantly, shaking Harvey’s hand firmly. “And you must be Mrs. Specter.”

“Oh, no no I’m-”

“Not yet,” Harvey cuts in. I give him a raised eyebrow and he just winks at me. 

Well… guess we’re gonna talk about that later. 

“Let me buy you each a drink,” Michael offers. 

“No drinks for us tonight, but thank you anyway. It’s kind to offer.”

Okay, clearly Harvey has some sort of ulterior motive for later tonight because when has he ever turned down a free drink? I sort of pay attention to whatever Harvard/lawyer lingo their yapping about, but it doesn’t strike any of my interests. I see Rachel and Mike across the room so I pat Harvey on the shoulder and ditch him for her.

Before I can get a few steps, he tugs me right into his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

My knees go a little weak. “Just to chat with Rachel.”

“I’ll walk you over.”

“That’s a little much, Harvey.” I ‘adjust’ his tie to give my hands something to do. “Besides, you’re chatting with that professor. I have no fucking clue what you all are talking about, and I need Rachel’s opinion on a new curling iron I was gonna buy.”

“Trust me, the last thing I want to be doing is chatting with Michael Bunting. That guy doesn’t know his left shoe from his right shoe.”

Curious, I look down at his feet. I’ll be damned. His left shoe is on his right foot. Seriously. 

“Huh, a bit ironic isn’t it? An established Harvard law professor doesn’t know which shoe belongs on what foot.”

“See where I’m getting with this? Wherever you go, I go.”

With a playful smile, I ask, “What happens when I need to go to the bathroom?”

He bends his head down and whispers in my ear. “Trust me, you don’t want me to come in there with you, sweetheart.” It doesn’t take long before a pulse settles between my thighs. Harvey just chuckles, kissing the space behind my ear. “I bet you’d like me to follow you, huh? Lock the door. Bend you over the sink. One hand in your hair, pulling it back so you have to watch in the mirror. The other covering your mouth because you don’t know how to be quiet.”

Suddenly, my curling iron questions seem inferior to what is happening. 

I knew he was pent up, but this is… this is different. 

“So yes, I will be escorting you anywhere you wanna go tonight. Understand?”

All I could manage was a nod. Harvey has always been dominant, but this is uncharted territory for our relationship. And I’m kind of fucking loving it.

He pulls away from my space and grabs my hand, dragging me behind him. Curse him and those long legs. I have to skip a step and then another one so I can stay behind him. With his shoulders blocking the way, I can’t see where we’re going. To the bathroom? A coat closet? Maybe to-

“Rachel, Mike,” he greets. I have to fight to keep the frown at bay. 

“Yn!” Rachel says elatedly. “God, you look stunning. Where did you get that dress? And those sandals are adorable!”

“Have fun,” Harvey spoke softly, kissing the back of my hand before leaving me with Rachel. 

I tell her all about the dress and the sandals, and about Harvey not wanting me to wear heels. And the… context to it as well. She had a knowing smirk on her face. Mike left us to our devices after he heard her say ‘I think you’re going to need to take a sick day after what Harvey is going to do to you’.

Oh how I wish she’s right. 

“I mean, is it that bad?”

“Is what that bad?” She quirks her head to the side, sipping whatever pink, goddess looking cocktail she has. It literally has glitter in it.

“The height difference.”

Her eyes scan me up and down, “Well, it’s certainly more apparent without the heels, that’s for sure. But I mean it’s cute. He’s like a head and a half taller than you.”

“It’s like standing next to a giraffe. I know Harvey isn’t that tall, I think I’m just that short, you know? It’s annoying. I have to look so far up at him. And I had the cutests shoes I was gonna wear with this dress. ‘Till mister ‘I can reach the top shelf everywhere’ told me not to.”

Rachel snorted, a drop or two or seven of her cocktail spewing out from her lips. “Yn, you look hot no matter what you wear. And if Donna was here to scold you, she’d say something along the lines of ‘there isn’t anything a bit of pouty lips and fuck me eyes can’t do’. So, since Donna isn’t here, go give Harvey some pouty lips and fuck me eyes.”

I just smile. I love Rachel so much. “I would go find him, but he might pull me into a backroom and literally beat my ass. He walked me over here just so he wouldn’t lose sight of me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Both of us laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but it is kinda true. I could easily disappear and no one would notice. Literally. I might be the smallest one here and it would be easy to stick to the wall and–

“Excuse me, ladies, but might one of you point me in the direction of the nearest balcony?”

I looked over my shoulder to a man who had a charming smile. His hair was combed back and he had on a tux. As if it would help, I stood on my toes and tried to look for one, but legit couldn’t see a thing. 

Rachel had a nasty look on her face. I looked between the two of them, waiting for… something to happen.

“Zane.”

“It’s Ross, actually. But I’m sure you already knew that, Tanner.”

“Uhh–” they clearly know each other.

“Who’s your friend?” This Tanner guy asks. He looks at me and takes a sip of his drink. 

“You don’t need to know, beat it.”

Oh, so this is obviously an ex or something. He looks a little older, but who am I to judge?

“I’m Travis Tanner,” he extends a hand. “An old friend of the frim.”

“Take your sleazy hands somewhere else, Tanner,” Rachel takes a step towards him, standing shoulder to shoulder with me.

“Relax, Ross,” he says. “I’m just trying to talk to her. I didn’t ask for her hand in holy matrimony. Go find that little associate of yours so I can buy her a drink.”

I felt a presence behind me, then an arm slip around my waist. The cologne I picked out earlier this morning wafted around me and I let myself lean into Harvey. 

“Say one more thing to her and I’ll put you on the floor, Tanner.”

I have never heard Harvey sound so threatening. 

I watched his brown eyes go from me, and then distinctly up to Harvey. “Of course.”

That grip around my hip tightened and I laid my palm over his hand to get him to relax. It did nothing. “Rachel, would you mind going to find Mike for me? I need to ask him a few questions on what the expected sentence time is for a man who is about to make another unrecognizable to his face ID.”

“Gladly,” she says, marching off to my left. 

“Darling, you’re seriously with a man who is verbally threatening to beat the shit out of another?”

“I’m about to get a whistle and referee the match because I think Harvey would like to go a few rounds with you,” I state my view on the matter. 

Travis grins at me. “I see why you like her. She’s feisty, can pack a punch in that small frame of hers.”

I can feel Harvey take a deep, steadying breath. “My love?”

“Hmm?” I look up at him.

“Get behind me.”

“Harvey–” He gently unwinds his arm around my waist and steps in front of me. The taught muscles in his shoulders pop out through his shirt. He ditched his jacket somewhere along the way.

I look over to my left just as Rachel finds Mike. She whispers something to him and I watch as his whole face changes. He whips his head around and we lock eyes. With his drink forgotten on the small bar-top table, he heads for our direction.

“Make a comment about my girl again, and I swear to God I will knock your teeth out.”

“Relax, Harvey. Why don’t you ask her what she would like to do. You seem to be awfully keen on making decisions for her,” Travis suggests. What a cocky son of a bitch. Does he actually think I’d give up Harvey for him? What a fucking joke. 

“I think you’re right,” Harvey agrees. He steps to the side just as Mike gets there. “What do you think, sweetheart? Would you like to sucker punch him or shall I?”

I can’t help the evil look that crosses my face. Instead of answering him, I simply grab a hold of his tie and yank his lips down to mine. He answers with a vicious bite, groaning into my mouth. His palm finds my neck, not being shy about the show. 

When I pull away, I’m left breathless and more than a little turned on. I know my lipstick is smudged to hell because I can see it on Harvey’s mouth. With a wicked smirk, I turn to Travis, who is red all over. “I think I’d just rather show him all he’ll never be able to touch.”

Harvey, again, plants himself behind me, but keeps his hand wrapped around my throat. “You heard her, Tanner. If I were you, I’d probably try, too. She is one of a kind. But she’s mine. She lives in my home. Eats the meals I cook for her. Wears my shirt after I’ve fucked her until she’s whimpering my name. She’ll have my ring on her finger one day. Have my last name. ‘Yn Specter’ sounds a whole lot better than ‘Yn Tanner’, don’t you think? So, while you still have your dignity–no matter how many times I have to take it from you in court–I suggest you get the fuck out of here. Now. And if I ever hear of you talking about her, I’ll break more than your teeth.”

Everyone had a look of shock across their face. Including me. 

Without a parting word, Tanner left. I felt Harvey let out a breath as he dropped his hand from my throat. 

I breathed a sigh of relief. Mostly for the fact that I didn’t have to call the police to report a homicide and then run off into the sunset to escape for being a possible accomplice. 

“Well,” Mike scratches the back of his head, clearing his throat. “That was certainly… something.”

“What the hell is going on over here?” Jessica steps into our circle. “And why the hell did I just see Travis Tanner practically sprinting towards the exit?”

“He tried to put the hots on Yn,” Rachel has the most sinister look on her face. I give her a look that screams ‘really?’. She just mouths ‘good dick tonight’ before winking at me. 

Is it bad I was already thinking the same thing?

“What the hell did you say to him?” Jessica asks Harvey.

“Trust me you do not wanna know,” Mike says before Harvey has the chance to elaborate. “I think I need to go bleach my ears.”

Rachel just laughs at him. “We’ll see you guys back at the office on Monday.”

As they leave, Jessica looks at the two of us expectantly. “Well?”

“Just be thankful that what came out of his mouth didn’t become reality. Otherwise there might be a lawsuit on your hands,” I explained. “I took care of it.”

“So what I’m hearing is I should hire you to defuse all of the fires Harvey tends to ignite?”

I giggle, stepping into his side. “I think that spark is the exact reason you hired him in the first place.”

Harvey glances down at me, a fond, proud look in his eyes. He kisses the top of my head. “Plus, if you hired her, I’m not sure my production value would go up.”

“Well, now that that image is burned into my head, I’m gonna go drink it away. Oh, and Harvey?”

“Yes?”

“The next time you get the chance to punch Travis Tanner in the face, don’t hesitate.”

I stared at Jessica in disbelief, jaw to the floor. “I knew I liked her.”

“Yn,” Harvey spins me around to face him. He takes my face in his hands, scanning my eyes back and forth. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, he was just–”

“Did he try to touch you? Did he actually touch you?” 

I remove his hands from my face, grasping them in my own. “No, Harvey. He didn’t. I’m not sure Rachel would’ve let him take another step anyway. Who is that guy? Why do we all collectively hate his guts?

“I’ll tell you on the way home.”

“We’re leaving?”

“Fuck yes,” he hooks two fingers in his tie and yanks it loose. “I can’t stand being here anymore and I can’t stand seeing men gawk at what’s mine either.”

“Harvey, I don’t think everyone is gawking at me.”

So fast the room blurs, he pins my back to his front and grips my chin. “Just look around, Yn. Notice how everyone is sneaking glances at you? Even if they're with a date, everyone has their eyes on you. They always have their eyes on you. Fuck Yn… you have no idea just how easily you could bring all of them to their knees.”

“The only man in this room I want to see on their knees is you while you're between mine.”

Hearing the tremor in his breath does more things to me than I’d care to admit. “You’re gonna regret saying that. Let's go.”

~~~~~

On the car ride back, Harvey explains everything that has to do with Travis Tanner. Safe to say I am now a certified hater. What a fucking cunt. An actual asshole. And now knowing that he’s crossed and fucked with so many people I love and care about? Next time I see him I’ll put my fist through his face. 

Bitch. 

Enough thinking about this dick-wad. I have Harvey literally dragging me down the hallway from the elevator to his door. He shoves the key in on the first try (thank god) and slams it closed. My skin is on fire with a need for his lips all over me. 

I don’t care where. 

I need him everywhere. 

He easily picks me up and bends me over the side of the couch. Harvey’s hands carefully remove my sandals, placing kisses up my calves as he goes. Those skilled fingers of his move my skirt out of the way, pushing it up over my ass. 

He pauses. And I grin. 

“You are such a little devil, aren’t you?” A single finger trails up the inside of my thigh. Then a hand cracks down on my ass. My very bare ass. Did I purposefully not wear anything underneath? Yes. I absolutely did. 

“I figured you wouldn’t want to waste time.”

“Please,” he scoffs, “getting the privilege of undressing you is no waste of time.”

My heart aches. How could I have gotten a man with the most perfect mix of worship and corruption?

Harvey stands and presses his need into me. “Feel that? God Yn, you have no fucking clue what you do to me, do you? It still amazes me every time, how you take me so well.”

“I just like being good for you,” I admit. He grinds his hips harder, pushing me deeper over the couch. 

“Yeah? Gonna be good and take it, huh?” I nod as best I can. “Yeah, I know you will. On your knees first, pretty girl.”

There isn’t anything I’m not willing to do for Harvey when he calls me his pretty girl. It’s just a fact. 

Heat courses through me as I sink to my knees, staring at him. All the way up… Fuck he is so much bigger than I am. This might be the first time I’m truly noticing it. 

One button at a time, he undoes his shirt. He throws it to the side, making a show of the belt next.

“Give me your hands.” I give my wrists to him, watching carefully as he folds the belt into a figure-eight and gives it a tug into place. “Now open up, tongue out.”

A rough hand on my chin makes me open my mouth wide, tongue rolling out. He rolls his against his cheek, then spits in my mouth. The whimper I let out is embarrassing. I can’t help the flush that burns up my neck and to my cheeks. 

“You’re fucking mine.”

I’m breathless as he shoves down his dress pants and boxers. I don’t even get a chance to admire him before Harvey shoves all the way down my throat. Tears sting my eyes when I gag, but the feeling of him against my tongue outweighs my need for air. 

“For every tear that rolls down your pretty little face, I’m gonna make you cum that many times.”

Oh dear God…

Okay, I have to focus. 

I am careful about my breath control. Between the taste and the sound of him it’s incredibly difficult to focus on anything other than the outrageous throbbing between my legs. 

“Fuck, just like that pretty girl. Keep taking it so well and I’ll give you anything you want.”

He knows how to make my brain melt. I relax, letting him all the way down. He stays there, pelvis to my nose for a few seconds. I know he likes watching the tears form in my eyes, so I look up at him. 

“Aww, I know it’s so big for you. But you’re doing such a good job, Yn. Just a little more then I’ll give you what you really want. F-Fuck that feels so good.”

I grin internally, knowing he loves it when I press my tongue up onto the underside of his dick. I do it a few more times while he thrusts in and out, more than enjoying hearing him fall apart. 

For a few minutes, he rocks in and out. An abundance of praise falling from his lips. Telling me how pretty I look, explaining how I’m his and only his to see like this. I’d have no one else ever again. He has ruined me for anyone else. 

Precisely how I want it. 

“You wanna cum, don’t you, pretty thing?” Harvey mocks, grabbing my hair at the root and nodding it for me. “Yeah I know you do, you love it when I make you cum. Show me those tears, baby. As many as you want. Wanna make you feel so fucking good.”

When the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat, I choke. And he does it again, eyes trained on mine. I feel the tears swell up. Not too many, I’d like to be able to walk tomorrow. 

On purpose, he does it again. And again. And again until twin tears are rolling down my cheeks. One from each eye. 

“Two? Come on, I think you want more than that, don’t you?” I shake my head no, but he doesn’t let up. “If you don’t want more, then don’t let any others slip, sweetheart. I’m not done fucking your mouth yet.”

It’s relentless. His pace is nothing short of brutal, and it takes everything in me not to start sobbing. I tried to close my eyes, but he ripped his dick out of me so fast I almost fell over.

“Did I fucking tell you to close your eyes?”

“N-No Harvey,” I whisper. 

“Then keep them open.”

I have no choice but to obey. Somehow, I don’t let anymore breach the boundaries of my lashes. He didn’t wanna finish down my throat, so he pulled out and brought me to my feet. He thumbs my swollen lips, and I gently suck his finger. 

“You are gonna be the death of me, woman.”

“What a way to go,” I chide, earning myself a smack on the ass.

“Bed. Now.”

“Yes sir,” I respond, relishing the way his eyes darken. He removes the belt from my wrists, kissing the red marks. He picks me up, wraps my legs around his hips, and walks us to our room. 

The air in there is cold and my skin breaks into goosebumps. Or maybe it’s just the way he’s kissing me. Like he's worried I’m not real, some dream he’s going to wake up from. Desperate. Needy. Deprived. His hands grab around my waist and he throws me off of him. I land on the bed, about to prop myself up before he grabs my ankles and yanks me to the end of the bed. 

For a few moments, he just stares at me, guiding my legs open against the bed. His eyes ravaged me. An expression I’ve never quite seen before washes over him. His palms swallow my thighs. He pushes, pushes, pushes until they’re flat against the covers. Harvey goes to say something, but retracts it. 

“What, Harvey?”

He looks up at me like it’s the first time he’s seen me naked. And it is most certainly not the first time he’s seen me naked. 

“You’re just… fuck Yn you are so small compared to me.”

“I knew you had a thing for it,” I confirmed my hunch. 

“Seeing you tonight, without the heels on… it just did something to me. Something visceral. Something carnal. Knowing I can so easily do anything I want…”

Harvey knelt to the floor. The first brush of his tongue on my core made me sigh. He knows exactly what I like, what drives me crazy. And I have two orgasms coming my way tonight. No pun intended. 

I let my eyes close gently as he explores me. He reaches up and pinches a nipple between his fingers and it’s an effort to not writhe around. But his other palm is flat on my stomach, pinning me in place. I look down, seeing just how fucking big his hand is. Fucking hell–

“H-Harvey,” I gasp, feeling pressure build in my core, at the base of my spine. The tips of my fingers and toes begin to tingle. 

“Cum whenever you want, sweetheart.”

His permission is all I need. I let myself relax back, indulging in the freedom of his pleasure. I shiver when he sucks my clit hard, and I can see the grin on his face. Harvey spreads my legs far apart and keeps the exact pressure and motion of his tongue. I shake apart, endless praises falling from my lips. 

Harvey stops before it creeps into overstimulation and rises over me. I can smell myself on his lips when he kisses me, and the taste of my own release makes my brain fog with desire. 

I fist my hands in his hair, trailing kisses down his neck and chest. His physique drives me insane. Yes, he could absolutely do anything he wanted to me so easily. It fills me with the most delicious type of fear and desire. 

“Lay back down,” he commands. I comply without further instruction. I need to feel him. 

“Please, Harvey,” I beg. 

“Please what? Use your words, sweetheart. I can’t give you what you need if you don’t tell me. Or are you too fucked out? I still have to make you cum a second time, and you’re already begging for it? Pathetic, Yn. ”

A tremble rolls through me and I whimper. It’s the strain, the grit in his voice that makes it worse. “Need you to fuck me so good.”

“Yeah? You need me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours, baby?”

“Mhmm,” I nod, spreading my legs for emphasis. “Need it so bad. I’ve been so good for you tonight.”

“Yes you have. Wanna cum on my cock?”

“F-Fuck Harvey please,” I plead. 

I watch as he lines up with my pussy, and as he pushes in. He’s slow, draw it out so I feel every inch of him. Makes me as restless as possible. 

“Keep taking it, you can handle it. Stop whining, you slut. You love it. I know how much you crave me inside you. Just like that, sweetheart, just a little more.”

Harvey hooks his hands under my knees and pushes them flat against my sides, getting as deep as he can. He also pins my hands under them so I can’t move. With slow rolls of his hips into mine, I’m forced to take him all the way. I can feel him everywhere. It’s the most amazing type of overwhelming. The muscles in his abs and thighs ripple with every thrust and it drives me fucking insane. 

He laughs at me. Mocks me. 

“You are so cute like this. So adorable split open on my cock,” he coos, dragging his right hand all over my body. It cups my neck, then he plays with my chest. I lean into the touch, wondering how much more I can take before I shake apart. 

“Please make me cum, Harvey. Need it so bad,” I ask desperately. It’s a need I’ve never had before. “Fuck please please please.”

“You really wanna cum, don’t you, baby? You’ve been my good girl all night long. Doing exactly what I say. I think you deserve it.” The brush of his finger against my clit rips a scream from my throat. I was unprepared for just how much I was going to be able to feel it. It was so much. Borderline too much. Pleasure melted in and out of pain. But my body needed it. I wanted it so much. 

“Oh fuck,” I cried out, unable to sit still. I got a reprimanding smack to my thigh. 

“Hold still.”

My thighs went back to being flat, one of his arms pinning both of them. It was relentless. He was not going to stop until I came so hard the neighbors three floors below heard me scream his name. 

I was a mess when I came. My body bowed off the bed, physically unable to be stable. I wiggled around, fought against Harvey for even an inch of room to get away from his torture. 

“You’ll be done cumming when I say so. And I’m not fucking done with you.”

“Oh god Harvey please,” I begged. “F-Fuck fuck fuuuuck.”

I took a full breath only when he stopped rubbing my clit, just for a second while he pulled out and spat on my pussy. If I wasn’t numb from pleasure, I would’ve probably come a third time. He filled me up again, not being careful this time. 

I lay limp, content to let him use me in any way he wanted. He kept my legs up, fucking me hard. He didn’t care about whether or not I was feeling good. He knew he did his job. More than enough for me. Time to make him feel good. As best I could, I clenched around him. His palms splayed over my stomach, pressing firmly. 

His hips faltered. 

“God damn, Yn. I can fucking feel how big I am inside you. I bet you can feel it too. So fucking deep in there, and you’re being such a good girl. Taking it all and not complaining. My perfect little fuck toy, huh? Yeah you were made for me. Gonna fill you up so good.”

He flipped me over on my stomach, hiking up my hips so my ass sat in the cradle of his hips. He pinned my head down and fucked me harder than he ever has. His nails dug into my skin. I knew my ass was going to be bright red from the crack of his palm against my skin. 

“God you are so perfect, Yn. Such a good little slut. Gonna take it all? Not gonna spill a drop?” He yanked me up by my hair. I cried out a no, mind going a little stupid now. As if it wasn’t before. “Oh fuck–”

His hips stilled, and I could feel him throbbing inside me. He was buried all the way, and it felt too good. I tried to crawl away, but pulled me right back, fucking me on his cock. Nails raked down my back, and he chuckled when I shivered.

“Good girl, fucking such a good girl for me, Yn. You took me so well, sweetheart. You’re stretched so tight around me too, feel that?” The tip of Harvey’s finger trailed around my entrance and I hiccuped for a breath, a few stray tears spilling over. “Aww, you’re struggling so hard to keep it in. Come here.”

Harvey dragged me backwards so I sat in his lap. I let my head lull against his shoulder and went limp. 

“God I am still so hard…” Gently, Harvey fucked me on his cock. I moaned absently, too tired and spent to care. “You are so fucking amazing, Yn. My good girl. I’m the only who gets to fuck this pussy, you hear me? Your pussy is mine to fill. I’ll never get sick of watching you fall apart at my hands.”

“All yours,” I say, voice a little raw from screaming. 

“All mine.”

Vaguely I feel him slide me off his cock. I’m pretty sure he carried me to the bathroom because the next thing I know I’m in the tub with him gently cleaning me. His hands are soft, careful to avoid my most sensitive areas. It’s all gentle kisses and tender touches. Not only can he break me down, he always puts me back together. Brings me back to a safe, caring, loving reality. 

“Are you still awake, my love?” Harvey asks, running a brush through my wet hair. 

“Not for much longer if you keep massaging my head like that,” I smile, feeling all warm and fuzzy in his hands. 

“Do you need anything before we go to sleep?” Harvey asks. “It wasn’t too much for you, right?”

I shake my head, “No, of course not. Would’ve told you if it was. I liked it. A lot.”

“Good good.” I can feel his grin as he kisses both of my cheeks. “I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“If I had known sooner, I would’ve stopped wearing heels long ago,” I teased, finally opening up my eyes. 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he smiled, that big goofy grin I fell in love with. “Ready for bed?”

“Mhm,” I humm. “I could use some water. And maybe a snack.”

“Blueberries and a chocolate chip cookie?”

“God you know me so well,” I swoon. I kiss my lips together, a silent demand for him to meet me halfway. Without hesitation, he does, then helps me into bed before going to the kitchen. When he returns, Harvey climbs into bed with me. I just look at him for a moment, really taking him in. 

“I love you, Harvey.”

His smile lights up his eyes. “I love you so much more, Yn.”

[eightstarr]

baby — abby anderson.

summary: you're on patrol with abby and you make her squirt for the first time. you don't mean to make a habit out of distracting her, but in your defense, it's hard to focus on anything else when she looks so pretty all serious and focused on keeping you safe! and you are only so strong!

notes: i don't ever really write smut and it for sure shows but anyway here it is! what no one asked for! yet again! also excuse the surprising amount of feelings that are in this considering it's technically supposed to be porn? it wouldn't be me if someone didn't say i love you at least once tho

୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

"Do you have a danger kink or something?" Abby asks, trying to sound cool, but her breathing's a little too staggered for that. You've got her backed up against a counter in a random kitchen of a lonesome, old house.

You smooth your tongue over her pulse and feel her shudder, your hands sneaking under her loose shirt to cup her waist, fingers squeezing adoringly. "Can't I have some fun with my girl?"

"Yeah, but—" Abby cuts herself off with a moan that's almost embarrassing considering how little you're touching her. "You did this last time, too. It's like you want to get caught."

"Caught by who?" You scoff, lifting your head to look at her, nodding once as a silent way to say up. She abides without thinking, her palms against the counter as she pushes herself up to sit on top of it. You're needy enough that you don't bother teasing, no 'good girl', no 'what would your soldiers think if they saw you be so obedient?'. You slot yourself between her thighs and continue your assault on her neck, fingers brushing over chest. "There's no one here, baby."

Baby is perhaps your biggest tell. You call her baby when she's been away for too long, when you've had a long day and show up at her door unannounced, in the morning when you've woken up from a dream that left you aching that you refuse to share the details of no matter how much she asks. 'Baby' means you're desperate. And 'baby' makes Abby pull you closer, because nothing makes her need you more than you being desperate for her.

She lifts herself up enough to let you pull her cargo pants and boxers off in one motion, and her heart skips a beat as you sink to your knees, guiding her legs over your shoulders. She used to fret about that, fret about a lot of things— but the admittedly ridiculous thought of accidentally squeezing you to death was up there. You'd made the stupid joke, as anyone would, at least I'd die happy. But when that didn't quite work besides earning a roll of her eyes and a slight smirk to her lips, you'd simply gotten back to work on making her cum on your mouth until she had no choice but to close her legs around you. And when she did, the movement mindless and needy, you groaned and left loving fingerprints on her thighs enough to reassure her that you liked it. Loved it. You loved a lot of things that Abby used to be insecure about.

The point is, she shouldn't be shocked to see you get down on your knees. It's not an entirely unfamiliar sight anymore, you've made sure of that. But even on the first time you fucked, with all the eagerness and want and sense of overdue of your affections, Abby doesn't think she saw you quite this ravenous.

It's like you're drunk on it, like you didn't have her in a way not too different from this just a mere two days ago. You eat her like you're fucking starving. Not pulling away to breathe, your nose brushing against her clit just right, moaning every time she bucks her hips or pulls your hair.

When Abby cums, she feels it in her chest. It sinks on top of her, a lovely heaviness, and then drops off of her all together and leaves her weightless. When you don't stop, she breathes out a chuckle that turns into a broken moan and buries her fingers back in your hair, half expecting you to pull away still. But time passes, drags on and speeds away much too fast all at once, and you don't.

She's saying your name, she thinks, or a sound as close to it as her mind will allow her to formulate. Abby knows she's loud by the way her noises are echoing through the empty room, mocking her. Before she can feel embarrassed by it, as if you can read her mind as easily as anything else, you drag your mouth down and fuck into her with your tongue in a way that she didn't know could feel so good before she met you. As quickly as it came, the shame is gone. Her lips part and her sounds grow louder still, spilling out of her carelessly. You want to reward her, you think somewhere in the back of your mind, want her to know how much you love it. It's a privilege to make Abby Anderson a mess, and it always makes you lightheaded with need.

You wrap your mouth around her clit and suck, and Abby lets go of your head for once to grab onto the counter and make a lame attempt to keep herself still, her knuckles white.

The pressure building in her low abdomen is familiar, but then your hand comes to lay flat against the exact spot and something about the weight of it makes the feeling twist into something different.

Abby gasps quick breaths, her eyebrows furrowed in vague confusion and enough pleasure to drown it out and soothe the meaningless pain of bumping her head back against the wall.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, barely legible. And it's fine, she thinks, it's just like every other time. But then she feels it start to unravel, finally, and it's the same but also not at all. "Fuck, wait, I think— fuck!" she's panting, shaking and forcing her gaze to refocus just to watch the way your eyes fall closed, the way your eyebrows furrow. You moan against her and the sound is loud even while suffocated, even though you've somehow managed to push your face closer to her, press your tongue deeper. Abby feels it gush out of her and it's nothing like anything she's felt before, so good and so much and she doesn't want it to ever end, even as she blabbers, "Oh my God. Oh my fucking God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

You don't seem to hear her, hungrier than she's ever seen you— you look fucking possessed. You pull back and the sight of you is dizzying, embarrassing, and it's the only thing Abby wants to look at for the rest of her life. Your lips are glistening, yes, but so is your chin, your cheeks, her cum dripping down your neck. Your eyes are dark, more pupils than anything else, and they swallow her whole. You haven't pulled back too far, your breath still hot against her, but it's enough that you can replace your mouth with your fingers and rub on her clit. What's left in her comes out in soft spurtz, dripping onto the floor, and you couldn't tear your eyes away if you tried.

But Abby doesn't know that, doesn't know what you're thinking at all. You're surprised, but is it in a bad way? It must be. Are you disgusted? You're so covered in her that it feels like you'll never be able to wash it off, and Abby can't read your mind like you do hers, so she doesn't know that the thought thrills you, that your heart is fucking pounding in your chest, that your underwear is utterly and completely fucking ruined. You lick your lips and swipe your chin with the back of your hand, absentminded. Abby's thinking, begging, say something.

"Holy fuck," is all you can manage, a quiet mutter, breathless. Your fingers haven't stopped rubbing, but a whine and an especially forceful quiver of her legs makes you blink and you stop like you've just come out of a trance, your hand moving instantly to soothe up and down her thigh.

"I'm sorry," Abby repeats, and then you look at her face like you've just remembered it's there.

Look up at her like she's fucking crazy, like she's grown a second head, mumbling, "What?"

"I didn't— I tried to warn you," she says, even though she doesn't know that she could've. It felt so foreign, she wouldn't have known how to explain it, really.

You lower her trembling thighs from your shoulders carefully, not before pressing a kiss against each one, and then you stand up. Abby wonders if this is where you'll tell her you didn't like that, where you'll help her put her clothes back on and then you'll promise each other to never speak of it again. Instead, your eyes grow impossibly gentle, impossibly loving, and you tuck yourself closer between her legs. The hem of your jeans brushes against her core and she gasps, but doesn't move away. "Baby," you call softly, pecking her lips. "Has this never happened to you before?"

Abby feels a little like she's suffocating, the breeze coming in through the window you'd opened when you first came in not enough to soothe her anymore. But you brush your knuckles over the faint scar on her cheekbone and her shoulders grow limp, her body relaxing except for where she's shaking— fuck, she is still fucking shaking. She remembers your question and shakes her head.

You don't show her how embarrassingly proud that makes you, that you made that happen before anyone else did, because it's not the time. You tuck the feeling in your pocket for later and hum, barely resisting the urge to kiss her, to get back on your knees until they're bruised and make her cum in whatever form she'll give you all over again. "Did it feel good?" You ask, not mocking, but curious.

If she wasn't so embarrassed, Abby would've laughed. It is very possible, and the thought does nothing to ease her shame, that nothing has ever felt so good. But admitting that feels like too much, so instead she whispers, "Yeah."

You smile, happy, genuinely relieved. "Then what are you saying sorry for?" You ask, kissing her again before you can help it. "That's my fucking job. I want you to feel good."

The words alleviate like water to a small fire, and Abby feels silly for having forgotten that it's you who she's with. She's had the thought before, but it suddenly becomes more present than ever, practically breathing down her neck— that she wants to keep you forever. Keep is maybe a bad word for it. She wants to be around you forever, for as long as you'll let her, wants to move into your shitty apartment and make you breakfast and sleep every night in your cropped shirts that fit slightly too tight and make her look ridiculous. She ought to say she loves you more often, she thinks. You say it nearly every time you see her now, like the words have been bubbling inside you for too long and now they can't be kept away. It's a fairly fresh relationship, but the feelings are ancient for both of you, and it shows.

"I love you," Abby sighs, and presses her lips against yours before you can say it back. It's sloppy, she's barely starting to come down from her high, but you don't complain. You kiss her with vigor, like you're trying to spell it out with your tongue, I love you. When you pull apart, her eyes fall from your eyes to your chest and she winces, eyes squeezing shut as her forehead falls on your shoulder.

"What?" You ask, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head immediately, without thought.

"Your shirt," she mumbles against you. You glance down and let out a soft oh. The white fabric of your tank top is soaked, mostly near the neckline, sticking to your skin. You hadn't noticed. Abby lifts her head to look at you, freckled face flushed red, so pretty that you forget about the mess she made of you all over again. "You have to change. We can't go back with you looking like that," she says— or begs, more like.

"I didn't bring anything else with me," you tell her, humming appreciatively as you look back down at your chest, grinning. "Besides, this is my favorite shirt now."

Abby groans, the kind of whiney, timid sound that you could've never imagined her making before you become her girlfriend. The kind of sound that makes you weak in the fucking knees, needy and cotton-mouthed. "It's not funny," she hides her face in her hands and huffs, "'S embarrassing."

You're chuckling, but biting into your lip to stifle it when she lowers her head further down, chin against her chest. With careful touch, you wrap your fingers around her wrists and guide her hands away from her face, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her skin is hot beneath your lips, and you hum at the feeling of it. She's usually so cold, your Abby, freezing fingers sneaking under your shirt at night and making you shudder. It's a pleasure to make her warm, an honor to see her shy. You love her so much it tugs at you, a constant reminder.

"You're a dream, Abby. Fucking perfect," you say, as clearly as you can while dragging your lips down her neck. She's the hottest thing you've ever laid eyes on, so beautiful that sometimes you can't sleep, too excited that she's there next to you to ever close your eyes. And you need her to know, but you're not really one with words, so all that comes out is, "Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants, you know that?"

Abby moans. Her breath gets caught in her throat as you suck marks into her neck and she finds that she couldn't care less right now, about the evidence that'll be left on her skin or your stupid wet shirt. She guides your face up with a hand on the back of your neck, and kisses her flavor off your lips until she can't anymore, until her lungs burn and her lips tingle. Your voice echoes in her head. Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants. Nearly, she thinks. That doesn't sound very fair.

Thick fingers make quick work of your zipper, trailing over your lower tummy and sneaking under your underwear. She's a little fast, but you've never minded. Sometimes she'll notice and force herself to slow down, to savor, but most of the time her mind doesn't let her catch up to it. Like now. She can't worry about looking clumsy or overly-enthusiastic, because she just needs to feel you. Because she wants to check that you weren't lying, that she could've made you cum without ever touching you— and it's there, the overwhelming fucking truth of it soaking her hand. You gasp at the contact, and Abby's thighs squeeze you in place, as if you'd ever leave. "Jesus Christ," she pants. She finds herself saying it a lot lately. Jesus Christ. Oh my fucking God. Calling upon figures she doesn't believe in, delusional enough to think for a second that they'll bring some kind of comfort, release her of her sins.

You're so wet that it doesn't take more than a minute for her confidence to slowly grow back, so wet that it doesn't take more than two to make you cum. It's the fastest she's ever seen you fall apart, and it wouldn't be Abby if her immediate thought (right after that was so fucking hot) wasn't bet I can make it quicker. Her ego fizzles in her chest, warm and euphoric. Abby thinks she doesn't remember the last time she felt as proud about something as she does every time she makes you feel good. Isaac's occasional pat on her shoulder and mutter of 'good job' is laughable in comparison, as is the high of working herself till she's covered head to toe in sweat at the gym, as is everything else.

It might be the honeymoon phase the movies talk about. You slowly catch your breath and raise your head from her shoulder to look at her with the same adoration as you did when she kissed you for the first time, and Abby has a hard time believing that the feeling will ever go away. Movies get a lot of things wrong, anyway.

She's walking slower than usual on your way back home, her steps sluggish, and you're sweet enough to only make fun of her for it a little bit. One comment here and there, earning a scoff when you lean closer and offer to carry her bride style, a badly stifled laugh when you hum thoughtfully and wonder out loud about what Owen must be doing right now.

Her fingers are interlaced with yours and normally she would've let go by now, a little sheepish to show that much vulnerability in front of the people who are supposed to respect her, but the thought doesn't even cross her mind. You crack another stupid joke and she giggles like she did when she was a kid, silly and sweet, tugging your hand to her lips to kiss the back of it.

Manny looks you up and down as soon as you cross the gates, dark eyebrows raised. "The fuck happened to you?" He asks. You look at him with a confused frown and wait for him to clarify, "You're wet."

Abby's stiff as a board where she stands next to you, her quick blinking the only evidence that she hasn't actually been frozen in place by some kind of magic spell.

You're much more casual. "It's fucking hot. I poured some water on myself to cool off."

Manny hums. He's seen you do it before, maybe that's why he doesn't question it. He does note, though, the suspicious way in which Abby walks silently and swiftly past him with her eyes pointedly on the floor. Her hand is tight around yours still, and you follow because— well, of course you do.

[writingsfromhome]

In Plain Sight

A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.

Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?

———��———————————

This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.

Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.

“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.

“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.

You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”

“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.

Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.

You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.

“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”

You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.

The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.

It felt mature, to think like that.

As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.

Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.

“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.

“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”

“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.

The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.

“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”

Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.

“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“

“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.

“Well it’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”

“Right. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you Harry.”

“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”

She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”

“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”

“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.

“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”

She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??

“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”

And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.

“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.

When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.

“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”

“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.

“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”

The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.

His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.

“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.

“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”

“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”

“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.

“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.

“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“

“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”

Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.

You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.

“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.

“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”

“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”

“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”

Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.

“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”

“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”

“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”

“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”

“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”

“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.

“Yep. I do photography.”

A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.

What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.

Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”

“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.

You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.

“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.

“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”

“Why not? Have you never?”

“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.

“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.

He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”

He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.

When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.

You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.

“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.

Take it easy.

The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.

“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.

“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”

You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.

“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”

“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”

His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.

You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.

***

The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.

“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.

“I already told you nothing happened that night.”

“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”

“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”

“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”

“He’s not interested-“

“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”

You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.

Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.

“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.

“Call who?” Claire asks.

“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”

“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.

“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.

“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.

“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”

“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.

“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.

The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.

Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.

“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”

“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”

“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”

“I think so?”

Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.

“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”

“I don’t wanna be desperate.”

“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”

“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”

You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.

Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.

He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.

“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.

The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.

Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.

***

A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.

Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.

“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.

It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.

“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”

“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”

“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”

“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”

“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”

“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”

“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”

“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.

You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?

You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.

I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.

“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”

“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“

“You said she was all touchy!”

“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”

He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.

“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“

“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”

“What?!”

“Why you leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”

“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.

“Half-ass?”

“Or were you just being a whole ass?”

“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”

“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”

“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”

You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.

“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”

“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”

You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”

“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”

“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”

Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.

But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?

What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.

If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.

***

You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.

Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.

You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.

“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.

“Is that yn? Hii!”

“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.

“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”

You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.

“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”

“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.

You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.

But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.

***

Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.

“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.

“Kinda?”

“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”

You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.

“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Guys always run when you do.”

Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”

She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.

The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.

“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.

The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.

“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.

You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!

You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.

Whatever.

The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”

“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”

“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.

“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.

“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.

“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.

You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.

Claire approaches the group with curiosity.

Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.

Then there were three.

“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.

“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.

“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”

“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.

“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”

You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.

You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.

Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.

And then there were two.

“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.

“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.

“No, maybe I should.”

“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”

As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?

“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“

“Fuck off! I’m done!”

“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.

You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.

You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.

Everything snaps into place.

You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.

“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”

You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.

“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.

And it happens just so.

“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”

And you let her go.

And now you had to kill time.

You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.

You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.

Well fuck him too, you think miserably.

You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.

The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.

You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.

In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.

It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.

Same, you think.

Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.

You step inside and close the door.

Down goes another beer.

You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.

You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.

The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.

You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.

Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.

“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.

He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.

“Because you disappeared.”

“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”

“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.

“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”

“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”

“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”

“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”

The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”

You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“

“I do do that don’t I?”

“You said do do,” you giggle.

“Very mature.”

“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.

Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”

“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.

“What’s that mean?”

“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”

“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”

You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t.”

“Do so.”

“What’s it to you?“

You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.

You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?

Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.

You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.

Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.

It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.

“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”

“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”

“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your last actual relationship?”

“A long time ago.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”

“I can confirm.”

“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“

“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”

His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.

“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.

“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.

“It gets pretty lonely though right.”

You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.

“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”

“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.

“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”

It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.

You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.

You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.

“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”

“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.

He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.

Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.

“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.

“What?” You finally ask.

You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.

Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.

It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-

The bed vibrates.

“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.

“Claire,” you sit up.

“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”

“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”

You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”

Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.

You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.

“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.

“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”

“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”

You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.

“I gotta go weirdo.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”

You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.

You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.

***

“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.

But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.

How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.

But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.

“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.

“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.

“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”

Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.

***

Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.

“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.

“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”

“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“

“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Watching the game?”

“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”

“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.

“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah!”

“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.

“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”

“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.

“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.

“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”

“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”

Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”

Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.

But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.

He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.

Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.

***

You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.

You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.

You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.

Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.

“Looked like you could use a hand.”

“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.

“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”

“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”

“I saw you in there?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah I um-“

“You had nothing to do with this right?”

“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?

“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”

Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”

Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”

“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“

“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“

“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.

“Ok. Well when do you finish?”

Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.

“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”

“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.

“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”

You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”

Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.

Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.

He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.

Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.

You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.

But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.

“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.

“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.

“Did you want to leave your things here?”

“I have a car I can put them in?”

“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”

So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.

Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.

“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.

You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.

You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.

“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.

“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.

The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.

“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”

“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”

“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”

“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”

“Yeah so? What happened?”

He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.

“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.

“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.

“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”

You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”

For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.

Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.

Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.

“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.

“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.

��She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“

“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”

Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”

“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”

Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.

“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”

You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.

It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.

You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.

The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Shite that’s early!”

“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”

“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”

“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”

“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”

“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.

“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.

“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this

“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.

When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.

Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.

He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.

You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.

Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.

You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.

“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”

“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.

“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”

“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”

With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.

Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.

You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.

The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.

You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.

He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.

You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.

Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.

It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.

It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.

When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.

You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.

The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.

“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.

Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.

“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”

With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.

It’s bliss.

***

The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.

You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.

The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.

You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.

It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere

Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.

Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.

You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.

Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.

There was no need for words.

You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.

He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.

This time there was no rush.

The morning was warm, and so were you.

5 months later

You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.

The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.

You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.

You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.

You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.

Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.

He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.

You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.

Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.

“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”

“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”

“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.

Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.

And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.

You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.

“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.

“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”

“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.

“What a pair we make,” you grin.

“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.

“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.

“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”

“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”

You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.

“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”

Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.

“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.

“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.

“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”

“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.

The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.

"I love you," Harry reminds you.

"I love you too," you respond.

Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.

You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.

Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.

You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.

He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.

Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.

[mountttmase]

Someone You Can Trust

Note - so this was actually a request from @carlottawllms 🤭 thank you for trusting me so much with your ideas and I hope this lives up to your expectations 🩷 feedback would be appreciated pleaseeeeeee

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 4.6k

Warnings - smutty and fluffy

Visiting Mason in Manchester was always a good time.

No matter what you were doing it was just good to be back in his company with all of your shared friends, catching up on everything you’d missed and with it being international break he had a bit more time to spend with you guys now. Taking you all out for dinner at his new favourite restaurant before going out for a few drinks. You weren’t out long though, everyone complaining that they were tired after the long journey that day so you all made your way back to Masons to get ready for bed.

Everyone else had gone up already but you and Mason had made home in the kitchen. Chatting away like time meant nothing but before long he was pulling you upstairs and into his room as he was getting a little uncomfortable sat on the kitchen stools.

‘Wow, Mason Mount's bedroom, I’m honoured’ you laughed, flopping down next to him but the groan and roll of his eyes let you know he wasn’t entirely happy with your sarcasm.

‘You should be. First girl I’ve had in here I’ll have you know’ he huffed, taking his jeans off before collapsing down next to you. To anyone else it might of looked a bit weird but the pair of you were close and before long he was turning on his side so you could face each other but you noticed his cheeky smile was missing.

‘Yeah like I’m gonna believe that’ you teased, knowing Mason had always been a bit of a ladies man but the pair of you never really discussed any of that.

‘It’s true. I’m a changed man’ he laughed ‘Not that I was sleeping with the world and his wife before but you know what I mean…’ he laughed awkwardly.

‘So what’s changed?’

‘Dunno, just don’t fancy it anymore. It’s not… fun’

‘You were flirting with that girl all night, you can’t tell me you weren’t having a good time then’ you teased, watching his cheeks flush slightly but his cheeky smile returned and you felt better. ‘I really thought you were gonna get her number at least’

‘Well yeah I can talk the talk but I can’t seem to walk the walk right now’ he huffed, shuffling so he could lie on his back and look up at the ceiling. The prospect of having this conversation whilst having to look at you clearly was too much for him so you followed suit and laid down on your back next to him. ‘Flirting’s fine, I can talk for England but anything more it’s like I panic lately. Like I’ve put all this pressure on myself and it’s messing me up. It’s like I’m sabotaging myself so we don’t make it to the main event’

‘So you’re not enjoying it? Sex I mean’

‘I guess’ he laughed awkwardly and you could see his face was as red as a tomato from the corner of your eye. You wanted to push him to talk about it some more but you also didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so without a second thought you reached over to try and find his hand on the bed. Linking your pinkies together and you were surprised he held yours tightly.

‘You don’t have to be awkward about it, Mase. We’re friends right? And we’ve all done it’

‘Yeah I guess so’

‘So what don’t you like?’

‘I dunno like… I always feel rushed. There’s a lot of pressure to… you know. Get them where they need to go but it’s like I don’t know what I like anymore. I focus so much on the other person that when it gets to the main event it’s all I can think about and it’s like I put myself off. Sometimes it feels a bit underwhelming and tense and the more I try the worse it gets’

‘So you wanna be a bit selfish huh?’ You smiled, turning your head to face him but he refused to look at you.

‘N-no I just-‘

‘I’m kidding Mase’ you laughed watching his face fall slightly before turning his head away from you.

‘It doesn’t matter anyway, let’s just go to sleep. You can stay here if you want or the room over the hall is free’ he told you, turning fully onto his side and away from you and you felt your heart sink.

You hadn’t meant to upset him, you just wanted to get to the bottom of why he wasn’t feeling it but in the process you’d made him feel awkward. Not that he ever needed to be around you, you’d been best friends for years and whilst the furthest you’d gone with him was a drunken three second kiss in a club once, in the back of your mind you liked to think you knew what he would like and what he would want.

That didn’t make you feel any better though, looking at him now. His body slumped into the mattress as he sulked, the back of his neck as red as his cheeks out of embarrassment and all you wanted was to apologise and let him know he had nothing to be embarrassed of.

In the end you shuffled up to him, you front pressed into his back as you snaked an arm around his waist to hold him close and you smiled as you felt him relax into you.

‘Sorry Mase, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or awkward or anything’ you told him quietly. Pressing a small kiss to the back of his neck to let him know how sorry you were and you were surprised to feel him shiver at the contact. ‘You know you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of and all I want is to help’

‘I know’ he sighed, threading his fingers through yours that were settled on his tummy before you dropped another kiss on the same spot on his neck. Pride filling you as you a shuddery breath left his lips and all you wanted was to carry on making him feel good.

‘You’re allowed to want to be a bit selfish. Sex is a two way street and you shouldn't feel pressured about worrying if the other person is enjoying it to the detriment of your own pleasure. You need someone who’ll look after you too’

He didn’t answer, only a short breath passing his lips that let you know he’d heard you and you knew you needed to work a little harder.

‘These girls, you don’t really know them do you? You don’t know what they like and they don’t know what you like and that’s the issue really isn’t it? You wanna be relaxed but your too focused on figuring each other out’

‘Basically’ he uttered, his head nodding into the pillow and you lent up just a smidge so you could place another kiss just behind his ear this time. His nervous gulp making his whole body move but soon enough he was relaxing back into you.

‘You need someone you can trust. Someone who knows you and you can’t trust them can you? You want a connection and you can’t give them the time to figure you out and know what buttons to press. That’s what you want isn’t it?’

‘Yeah’ he gulped, his breathing changing the more you spoke to him and you knew it was now or never or you’d back out. I’m

‘They don’t know you like I do Mason. They can’t give you what I can’ you told him. The words falling from your lips before you’d even thought about it but as soon as they had you knew what you had to do. What you wanted to do for your best friend even though this wasn’t typically what best friends did.

‘You can trust me Mase. And I bet I can make you feel so good’ you told him, lightly scratching your nails over his abs as you felt them tense under your touch. ‘Will you let me try?’

‘Y/n I- I don’t know’ he mumbled, his voice sounding conflicted but he hadn’t said yes so you started to pull away just in case he was feeling uncomfortable with your touches.

‘That’s okay, I’ll stop’ you told him, pulling back as you didn’t want to push him and make him feel weird but you were surprised to feel him grab your wrist and pull you back into him.

‘No i… I don’t want you to stop, I just…’

‘Mase it’s okay’ you told him, keeping your voice light so he didn’t think you were upset. ‘We can just go to sleep and forget about it’

‘No’ he huffed, turning in your grasp so he could face you but there was an unreadable expression on his features. ‘I’m just a little nervous, like what would it mean?’

‘It doesn’t have to mean anything’ you reassured him, reaching out to stroke his cheek. ‘You’re my friend Mase, I care about you a lot and I wanna make you feel good’ you whispered. ‘Sex is supposed to be fun and sometimes we just need a little reminder. I’m happy to be the one to remind you if that’s what you want. But if you don’t want to, that's alright too. No pressure’

‘Well how am I supposed to say no to that?’ he chuckled. Hands finally reaching for your waist and you let him stroke your skin lightly. ‘I just don’t want you to feel like you have to’

‘That’s not it at all, Mase. I want to’ you told him, reaching over to kiss his cheek lightly and you revelled in the way his eyes fluttered shut. ‘Lay back for me?’

He did as you said, laying on his back as he looked at you with a tense expression but you knew just how to relax him. Curling into the side of his body so you could tuck your face into his neck and as soon as you felt him relax you started peppering kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

You started slow, now wanting to overwhelm him with lots of affection but you knew you were starting to drive him wild. Noticing his breath getting shallow with each kiss and when you discreetly nipped his collarbone he let out a hiss. The sound making butterflies erupt in your tummy and you knew you wanted to make him do it again.

Mason's arm that was around your body was gripping your waist tightly but there was something else you wanted him to hold so you took his wrist and moved it down so he could grip your bum instead. Feeling him give it a light squeeze and you hummed in satisfaction to let him know it was okay.

‘Can I take this off please, mase?’ you asked, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt in hopes you could access more of his skin and when he nodded in agreement you hoisted yourself up so you could straddle him. Pulling the fabric from his body and letting him lay back down before you decided what you wanted to do to him.

You knew Mason was a sucker for touch, no matter who he was with he'd have his hands on them in some way so you figured he’d like it to be reciprocated. And who wouldn't want to touch him? He was flawless in every way from the smattering of hair on his chest to the mole that sat on his abs that you wanted to kiss everytime you caught a glimpse of it.

You stared off trailing your fingertips over his body, your barely there touches effecting him immediately as his abs clenched and his breath got caught in his throat but the way he gripped your bum with both hands now let you knew he was loving it.

‘Is this okay Mason?’

’y-yeah’ he stuttered, trying to keep his voice steady but you knew him and you knew he was feeling good. ‘That feels really nice’

‘Yeah?’ you smiled, pride washing over you as you'd read him so well, but little did he know he hadn't seen anything yet. ‘You just stay relaxed, okay? i’ll make it worth your while’

You noticed it instantly, your words making him panic already as was clearly thinking about skipping to the end and whether he could get there but you just kept on touching him and relaxing him as best you could.

‘Just relax for me Mase, there’s no rush okay? We’ll take as long as we want’ you murmured, feeling his hands move to the hem of your shirt now. Biting your lip as you pulled it over your head but little did he know you had nothing on underneath and the sight of your bare chest made him whimper.

‘Jesus Christ, y/n. Warn a guy’ he chuckled but you still gave him no warning when you covered his hands with your own so you could drag them up your body and cup your chest. Rocking your hips over his in hopes of riling him up a bit but to your surprise he was already rock hard under you.

‘You like that masey?’ You teased, feeling him squeeze your warm skin as he dragged his bottom lip through his teeth

‘Fuck’ he whispered, eyes rolling back in his head before he moved his hands to wrap around your back. Pulling you forward so your bare chest was pressed up against his and the shy smile on his face made your heart thump. ‘I’ve always wanted to know what you were hiding under there’ he laughed, feeling shy as he looked right into your eyes. ‘I know we’re friends and everything but I’ve always been curious’

‘Well I hope I didn’t disappoint’

‘Nuh uh’ he smiled. The tips of his fingers running up and down your back just how you’d done to his chest and the realisation that he probably wanted to touch as well as be touched made you smile.

Without another word, you placed your lips back on his neck. Remembering the place he’d reacted to the most just before and you sucked on it lightly until he was bucking his hips.

Mason's body deserved to be worshipped and that’s exactly what we’re about to do. Shuffling yourself over to straddle just one thigh now but it gave you a bit more movement to do what you needed to. Kissing every inch of his skin you could and finally making your way down to the mole on his tummy. Flicking your tongue over it before licking a stripe up his body to his nipple so you could give it a playful bite.

‘You’re a tease’ he laughed, his hands threading through your hair at the sides so he could feel you but you carried on, giving the other side the same attention before trailing your kisses back down his body until you got to the waistband of his boxers. You kissed along the fabric before dipping your tongue just past the elastic waistband so you could lick a stripe across his skin again just under his belly button, but you could feel him tense before laughing and pulling you up to look at him. ‘If the mission was to make me cum then you every nearly almost did’

‘Sorry’ you chuckled, hiding your face in his neck but the quick squeeze he gave you let you know you had nothing to be sorry for.

‘Don’t be, whatever you’re doing’s obviously working’

‘Can I take these off?’ You asked, fingers running back running along the waistband of boxers again and you felt him nod but he stopped you as you sat up so he could look at you properly.

‘You can, but I want yours off too, yeah?’ He told you, eyes flickering down to your bottom half that was currently covered by your jeans as you were only meant to be in here for a chat and you knew he was only asking so he wouldn’t be the only one without anything on.

‘Okay’ you whispered, rolling off the side of the bed so you could stand up and undress yourself first but Mason wasn’t happy about this. Sitting up and reaching for you so he could pull you between his legs and unbutton them for you.

You should have realised he had ulterior motives but it was still a shock when you felt his mouth close over your nipple as he tugged your jeans down and you moaned louder than you intended to. Your fingers hiding in his hair so he couldn’t move but there was no need as he seemed content on sucking and flicking your skin with his tongue until your knees were going weak and you had to pull him off.

‘You sound so pretty when you moan for me’ he whispered, kissing the space between your breasts before peppering them down your skin as far as he could.

‘Stop it, this is supposed to be about you’ you scolded, trying to bat his hands away but he just held you tighter.

‘I know, and I wanna touch you’ he smirked. Giving your bum another gentle squeeze before finally pulling your underwear down to your ankles to join your jeans.

You thought it might be weird being completely naked in front of your best friend but he made you feel so at ease that you didn’t bat an eyelid. Letting his eyes explore all the parts of you he’d never seen before you gripped his chin so he’d look into your eyes and you were surprised at how dark they were. He looked hungry for you and all you wanted was to give him what he needed.

‘Lay down’ you whispered. Head nodding back towards the pillows and you watched him shuffle back before you placed yourself back in between his legs so you could pull his underwear from him. The gentle thud of his length hitting his tummy was like music to your ears and you were glad to see the effect you were having on him.

You still didn't want to go in all guns blazing so you carried on pressing kisses to his skin. Your fingers scratching over his tummy and thighs before you finally gave him what he wanted. Licking a stripe up the length of him before taking what you could of him in your mouth. He was big and you needed a hand to tackle all of him but you got a steady rhythm going and you could feel his thigh muscles dancing under his skin as you moved your mouth over him.

Him telling you he wanted to touch you was still ringing in your ears and you could see him fisting the sheets next to you as your mouth worked on him so you grabbed one of them. Placing it in your hair so he could touch you in some way and you were pleased to find he didn’t seem to want to alter your movements or force you to go faster. He just wanted to touch you and you moaned when he started to massage your scalp lightly.

‘Fuck, y/n. That feels so insane’ he whimpered. The sound making your tummy flutter. ‘Always knew that mouth would come in useful one day’

‘Fuck off’ you laughed after coming off of him with a pop but you knew he was only joking. Mason always described you as a chatterbox when you were with him, telling you he thought you saved up all your words for when you were next to him but you were only like that with him because you were comfortable enough with him to be yourself.

‘Sorry’ he chuckled, running his thumb under your lip to clean you up but you were ready to let him have it with both barrels now as some form of punishment so without a second thought you lowered yourself back down and took him back in your mouth. Making sure to stick your bum in the air more so he could get a good view of it and you could tell he liked it as he groaned even louder than before.

You could tell he was loving you slowing it all down, letting him feel every drag of your lips and flick of your tongue as he came apart underneath you until he couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling you up and off of him so your faces were level but he could clearly see the confusion in your eyes.

‘Sorry, I’m just really close and I don’t wanna finish there’ he told you sheepishly.

‘Where do you wanna finish Mase?’ You asked seductively but he answered you with his eyes. Watching and they flashed down to your core and the fact he wanted to fully have you made your heart race. ‘Oh, you want the full package then huh?’ You laughed with a wink before he nodded.

‘Well it is all about me’ he teased. Hands running up your arms before he gripped the back of your neck gently. ‘Is that okay?’

‘Yeah’ you whispered, attempting to move your legs so you could straddle him but the feeling of him pulling your face closer to his stopped you.

You hadn’t wanted to kiss him, not because you didn’t want to but because you thought it might have been too intimate for him. You were only friends at the end of the day and no matter how far this had gone or was going to go a proper kiss felt like it crossed some sort of line however Mason was now ready to plough right through it. Attaching his lips to yours in a soft kiss, wondering if he’d just got caught up in the moment before you realised that was more of a thank you than anything else and you kissed him back with a smile.

Still in a teasing mood you moved to sit over his lap. Not getting down to business just yet but you allowed yourself to feel him bare under you. Sliding up and down his length as his face contorted in pleasure and you knew you wanted to make him beg for you a little bit, half because you thought it might get him off but also for your own enjoyment.

‘Please, y/n’ he suddenly whimpered, the sound making your spine tingle in excitement.

‘What is it, Mase?’

‘Please don’t tease, I wanna be inside you’

‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ You asked playfully, watching him nod at you frantically as he tried to lift your hips up but you wouldn’t budge. ‘Is it what you deserve?’

‘Yes, f-fuck yes please. Please let me fuck you baby’ he whined, squeezing your waist as you felt your legs give way at how needy he was being but you knew you needed to put him out of his misery. Lifting your hips and lining him up with your entrance before you slowly sank down on him. Both sighing in what sounded life relief as you took all of him in.

‘Do that feel good, Mase?’

‘F-fuck yeah it does’

‘I’m gonna take my time with you okay? I wanna feel every part of you’ you told him, resting your palms flat on his chest before rolling your hips once. His hands were squeezing your bum selfishly as he moaned into the air and the sound only made you want to bounce up and down on him faster.

‘Fuck Mase, that’s it’ you whimpered, noticing your praise was getting him off as much as you actions so you carried on. Wanting to blow his mind in every conceivable way. ‘You’re so good Mase’

‘Fuck’

‘That’s it, you feel so good’

The main aim of this whole thing was to remind Mason how to enjoy sex again and you could see just by looking down at him that he was having the time of his life. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth as his eyes rolled back in his head but it was the small smile that he couldn't hide that was filling you with pleasure the most. He wasn’t thinking about anyone but himself and what he liked and felt good and all you wanted was for him to reach his high. Little did you know what with the mix of your mouth being on him and now being inside of you, he was closer than you thought.

‘Y/n, p-please I-I…’

‘What Masey, what do you need’

‘It feels s-so good I c-can’t hold it’ he stuttered, hands travelling up to hold your waist in order to try and move your body up and down on him even faster and the sudden change in pace had you clenching around him even tighter.

‘Don’t hold it then, yeah? I want you to cum for me Masey’ you told him, looking down at him through your hazy eyes.

‘But you-‘

‘Don’t worry about me or where I'm at, just cum for me. This is about you remember so just do what feels good and cum’

That was all it took for him to let himself go, stuttering your name into the air as he reached his high and you looked down at him in awe. Mason was always attractive but seeing him right now, flushed and glowing after you’d just made him feel good made your heart flutter so you gently climbed off of him so you could lay next to his body. Letting him wrap you up in his embrace but you noticed he was hiding his face in your neck and no matter what you did he wouldn’t look at you.

‘Mase?’ You laughed, trying to push on his shoulder but he wasn’t having any of it. ‘Mase? What is it?’

‘Nothing’ he laughed, finally looking back at you and you could tell from his blushy cheeks that he was a little embarrassed and overwhelmed. ‘Just, thank you’

‘No need to thank me, it’s what best friends do’

‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if I asked him to do the same’ he chuckled and you laughed along with him before he got a little more serious again. ‘Was I okay?’

‘It wasn’t about you being okay, Mase. It was about you enjoying sex again. Did you enjoy it?’

‘I did, yeah. A lot’ he told you, fingers touching your cheek lightly and you smiled at how gentle he was bending with you. ‘But I wanted you to enjoy it too’

‘I did’

‘But you didn’t cum’

‘That’s okay’ you smiled, trying to reassure him. ‘That's not why we did this’

‘Would you let me try though? I hate the thought of leaving you hanging’

‘Mase-‘

You were cut off when he pressed his lips to yours for the second time that night. Shock flooding you as this time he definitely wasn’t caught up in the moment but you relaxed into the kiss and were surprised at how much you enjoyed it.

‘Please’ he whispered, peppering kisses across your jaw to try and convince you, and as you were only human and accepted straight away. Nodding lightly as he rolled you onto your back ready to repay you for everything you’d done for him tonight.

[ourmadmusings]

We’re no worse off than the worse of them - 

It was obvious how soft he was for you. Gwen noticed as soon as she joined, the way his smile lingered long after you’d left, the way he’d follow you around the citadel like a lost puppy when you came back from a particularly risky mission, the way he’d actually listen to your advice and hear you out. His word was not final with you around, an interesting shift in dynamic compared to what she was used to. Hobie and Peter B. saw it, too. The way the two of you worked together on missions was like watching a well-rehearsed dance, to which the steps were borne to you both so naturally. You both played nice together, an odd juxtaposition to his usual lone-wolf routine.  You teased at him, poked fun at the way he’d grumble at the team, reminding him to play nice, they all had the universe’s best interest in mind, no matter how differently they went about showing it.  “So, do you think they’re like, an item?” Gwen asked over lunch, Peter snorted a laugh at the idea.  “Ha - no, I don’t really think so,” Hobie chimed in between bites, a small smile pulling at his full mouth, “I don’t reckon anyone could get that close to the boss-man and live to tell the tale.”  “Guys, come on, he’s not hardly as bad as you’re making him out to be here, give him some credit,” It’s Pav this time, a hum of agreement from Peter, too. “I bet the old man’s got some game under all that scowl.”  “I’m sorry, old man?” As if on-queue, O’Hara stands with hands on his hips over the table, an eyebrow raised and lips drawn tight, “‘m not much older than Peter, you know.” They give a short chorus of gasps, chokes, and a few laughs before O’Hara lets out a heavy sigh, “don’t you all have somewhere you ought to be, or do you enjoy wasting my time having to hunt down your little breakfast club?”  “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. If you keep frowning, you’ll just give yourself wrinkles, Miguel.” You’re quick to peer around his back, winking at the table. “Don’t you have a basket of puppies to spit on?” His eyes widen as he looks down at you, face turned up just enough to catch a toothy grin thrown at him, and attempt to lighten the mood from his scrutiny.  “Aye, that’s a good point,” Hobie finally chimes in again, “I gotta go anyways, Gwen?” He stands and pushes her tray back, an invitation to wander off. She stands and follows, Pav joins, and Peter mumbles something about needing to head home to put Mayday down. They all stare on their way out, watching the disposition shift almost immediately.  “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that with them around.” His words hold no heat, he’s got the ghost of a smile playing at his lips and you slide around to face him, hands on your hips to mirror his stance, “well, someone’s gotta show ‘em you’re not all bad. Besides, what’re you gonna do about it?” Your smile stays wide still as you carry on the conversation, a longer one than any of them have seen that hasn’t devolved into an argument.  “Is that an invitation or something?” He’s cheeky about it, “you did hear what else they said, no? They think I have game.”  It’s the raise of his eyebrow that sells it, you can’t help the yelp of a laugh that comes from you, “They’re not wrong, but I don’t think it’s the type of game you’d wanna brag about.” The tips of his ears heat up at your teasing, “are you trying to get me to fight with you?” He’s shifted his weight, a genuine smile gracing his features for once, stooping to face you directly, “oh-ho, is that a threat, old man?”  “Old?! Come on, you’re gonna hurt my feelings.”  “Ah, see! There’s that smile I love so much.” Your cheeks heat up at his teasing this time, the kids were right, maybe he did have some game, you thought.   The group stares at the two of you through the interaction, wide-eyed, open-mouthed stares sent between them. 

A few weeks pass and their investigation leads Gwen and Miles to follow the two of you closer. They needed concrete evidence of your relationship before they could accuse you of anything.  “Wait, whaddya mean, he was flirting?” Miles whispers from his place, a healthy few feet away from the commotion. A stray Doc Oc had shifted into another world, you and Miguel had decided it was too risky to send more spider-folk, so he opted to take you along in lieu of a full team.  “I don’t know -shh!” Gwen sticks a finger up over her masked-mouth, “but if he finds out we’re here, he’ll skin us alive. Keep it down.”  Your usual grace is no match for this particular anomaly, a quick strike from one of the metal arms sends you spiraling into a support beam with a sickening thunk. Miguel hollers for you, with no response. Another metal arm is just as fast as it catches your skull and thrashes you into the beam again, you’re limp by the time Miguel can confine him.  Miles and Gwen make a swift exit after that, catching only a glimpse of O’Hara as he rushed over to where you lay, an uncharacteristic panic in his voice as he supports your head and shoulders - “Lyla, send someone, please, hurry.”  Never once had they heard him willingly plead with the AI.  They don’t get an assignment from O’Hara for a while, and feign ignorance when Hobie and Pav ask.

a/n: ok how about a break from the regularly scheduled freak shit I usually post about O’Hara. He deserves some soft shit too smh.  Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 -

[worldofkuro]

idk if it sounds selfish but i need more comfort in my life rn, so i wanna ask for help.

if it's not really a big deal, i wanna see some comfort between alastor and reader when they were teens. maybe after he already told her that he wants to marry her, and something made her feel insecure and bad about herself. so she called Marie and ask Alastor to come, so she could lie down in his arms and listen him telling her that he loves her anyway.

or any other plots because I'll be okay with everything if it's fluff. thank you.

Of course dearest, anything for you to feel better. For those who will notice it, their last sentence is from the song “ Follow You” by Bring me the Horizon. I love this song and I thought it was pretty fitting. So here ,my dear, this scenario isn’t very long but I hope it will make you feel better. 

Follow You

You were coming back from school, trying to contain your tears. 

You had told Alice about Alastor’s wedding proposal and she was excited for you but some other girls heard you and made fun of you. How could a man see you desirable enough to be his wife? Most of the time, you didn’t care about their vile words, but you didn’t know why, today it was hurtful. Of course, Alice had taken your side immediately swearing at them like a sailor.

You didn’t greet your parents as you went immediately into your bedroom, hiding yourself under the blankets. You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Were you even worth being Alastor’s wife? He would always say you were “endearingly stupid”, did it mean he saw you as a stupid girl? Was he manipulating you?

Were you worth being special to someone’s heart?

You jerked your head up as you heard a knock on your window. You wiped your eyes and saw Alastor, his fist against the glass, staring at you. You opened the window quickly, scared he would fall.

“ Alastor, what are you doing here?”

“ I heard my mother talking with yours through the telephone, saying you didn’t feel well, so I came to check on you.” he entered your room, looking at you. You saw his eyes stopped at your tearied one. You tried to look away but he gripped your face, making sure he could watch your expression. “ Who?”

“ What..?”

“ Who made you cry?” he said with a gentle smile but his eyes had a dark glint.

“ No one.. It’s just… Am I worth it , Alastor?”

You gasped as Alastor forced you to lay on your bed, pushing something soft in your arms. Looking down on it you almost cried some more as you saw Eamon staring back at you. You squeezed it against your chest as Alastor laid next to you, observing your face.

“ Dearest, you’re just like a jewel. Being desired by people and those who can't have you are jealous. You are like a fresh breeze in summer, so short and yet so welcomed. You are much more than how you perceive yourself.”

“ But.. I feel like I’m going to be a useless wife…”

“ Hah! You, my dear, a useless wife? You could be doing nothing at home, as long as you are waiting for me, I would feel the happiest. But why would you think that? You have always been to my side, always accepted me. Why would I choose someone else to be next to me for my entire life? How could I look at anyone else now that my eyes have seen you?”

“ Alastor.. Do you love me…?”

He looked perplexed but wrapped his arms around your body, staring at your eyes without blinking.

“ I don’t know what love is about. But if loving you is wanting to devour you all, to protect you, you have your attention on me all the time, then I guess.. that I love you. But please, dearest, remember that even though I adore you, more than anything, my love is tainted with darkness. No matter how much I’m obsessed with you, I’ll drag you down to hell with me. I'm telling you, you're all I need, I promise you, you're all I see. I’ll never leave.” he stared at you, waiting for your answer.

“ I’ll follow you.’ you breathed, staring at his chocolate eyes. “So dig two graves because when you die, I swear I'll be leaving by your side. So you can drag me through hell, I’ll follow you.” you smiled sweetly at him as he beamed at your words, his cheeks flushed. He squeezed you against his body, Eamon between the both of you. 

You would always be together, the both of you. Alastor would always be by your side, like a curse, clawing at you to keep you from leaving, even if you would never think such a thing.

Your love was twisted, tainted in dark obsession but it was perfect for the both of you. Maybe people wouldn’t consider it as love, but you knew deep inside, Alastor would always chase after you if you were to run away. If you were to run away because of your feelings, your fears, everything, the only person who would chase you would be Alastor. And you knew he would never stop.

He would follow you.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Hi! Can I request a mommy Wanda x fem reader where they’re at an amusement park and after awhile R gets overstimulated because the sun is sunning and there’s no clouds so she’s really hot and she’s also hungry and thirsty and her legs hurt but she doesn’t tell Wanda any of this because she gets really quiet/almost non-verbal when she’s overstimulated but Wanda is able to figure it out anyway? Much comfort and love 🤭💕

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x autistic!fem!reader

Summary: It's time for a trip to the amusement park, but everything is overstimulating you.

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Age gap relationship (W=34 R=23), Dom/sub dynamics(vague), comfort fic

Authors notes: I'm actually not a huge amusement park person (I don't like rides) so I hope this is good!

The sun blazed overhead as the bustling sounds of the amusement park surrounded you. The Avengers had planned this day off, a rare chance to relax and enjoy some fun together. It had started off great, with everyone in high spirits. Wanda had been especially excited, dragging you from ride to ride with a contagious enthusiasm.

But now, hours into the day, you felt the oppressive heat bearing down on you. Sweat trickled down your back, your mouth dry and throat parched. Your legs ached from the constant walking, and the cacophony of sounds—the shrieks of joy, the clanking of rides, the chatter of the crowd—felt like they were closing in on you.

You tried to keep a brave face, not wanting to ruin anyone's day. The others, including Wanda, seemed to be having such a great time. You didn't want to be the one to bring that to a halt. So, you stayed quiet, your usual chatter reduced to nearly nothing. You could feel yourself retreating into your shell, the overstimulation pushing you to the edge of being non-verbal.

Wanda, however, was incredibly perceptive. She had been keeping an eye on you throughout the day, and it didn’t take long for her to notice the subtle changes in your behavior. The way you trailed behind a bit more, the lack of response to her excited chatter, the small frown lines that had appeared on your forehead.

"Hey," she said gently, pulling you aside as the group decided on their next ride. She cupped your face with her hands, her touch cool against your flushed skin. "Are you okay?"

You forced a smile and nodded, but you could see the concern in her eyes. She wasn't buying it.

"Sweetheart," she said softly, "you don't have to hide how you're feeling. I can see you're struggling."

Your resolve crumbled a bit at her words, your eyes filling with tears. "I didn't want to ruin everyone's day," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda's expression softened even more, and she pulled you into a hug. "You could never ruin our day. If you're not okay, then we're not okay. Let's take care of you."

She led you to a shaded area, where you could sit down and take a break. The rest of the Avengers noticed and quickly joined, their concern evident.

"Hey, what's going on?" Natasha asked, crouching down beside you.

"Wanda thinks I need a break," you said quietly.

"Smart move," Tony agreed, handing you a cold bottle of water. "It's brutally hot out here."

As you sipped the water, feeling it cool your parched throat, Wanda sat next to you, her arm around your shoulders. "We're going to find some food and take it easy for a bit, okay?" she said.

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. The team's understanding and support made the heavy weight of overstimulation a little easier to bear. Wanda kissed your forehead, her touch grounding you in a way that nothing else could.

"Thank you," you murmured, leaning into her.

"Always," Wanda replied. "Your well-being is what's most important. We're here for you, no matter what."

With that, the Avengers rallied to make sure you were comfortable, taking the rest of the day at a slower pace, making sure you were hydrated, fed, and rested. The love and care they showed you made you realize that you were never a burden, and that taking care of yourself was just as important as having fun.

The day continued at a much more relaxed pace. Wanda stayed by your side, her arm wrapped around your waist as you both wandered through the amusement park. You had insisted that the rest of the team continue enjoying their day, reassuring them that you were in good hands with Wanda. They reluctantly agreed, but not without checking in on you periodically.

Wanda, being your girlfriend, never minded taking care of you. To her, you were her precious little girl, and she took great joy in making sure you were happy and comfortable. She suggested you both try the carnival games, and you eagerly agreed. You played game after game, laughing and cheering each other on.

You managed to win a few adorable squishmallows, each representing your favorite Avengers. You secured one of Wanda, Natasha, Cap, and Peter. Each time you won, Wanda's eyes would light up with pride, and she'd kiss your cheek, making your heart flutter with warmth.

As the sun began to set, the amusement park transformed. The rides and stalls were lit up with twinkling lights, casting a magical glow over everything. You and Wanda decided to take a leisurely stroll, enjoying the cool evening air. The day's heat was finally dissipating, and the breeze felt refreshing against your skin.

You started to feel the exhaustion creeping in, your steps becoming slower and more unsteady. Wanda noticed immediately and didn't hesitate to scoop you up into her arms. You wrapped your arms around her neck, your head resting on her shoulder.

"Looks like someone is ready to call it a night," she teased gently, her voice soothing.

"Mhm," you mumbled, already feeling your eyelids drooping.

Wanda carried you toward the parking lot, her gentle rocking motion lulling you further into a sleepy haze. The day had taken all your energy, but it was worth it. Spending time with Wanda, winning those silly squishmallows, and seeing the amusement park lit up at night—it had all been worth it.

As she walked, Wanda spoke softly to you, her voice a comforting melody. "You did great today, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you for pushing through. I hope you had fun."

"I did," you whispered, nuzzling closer to her. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Always," she replied, kissing your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," you managed to say before drifting off completely.

By the time you reached the car, you were fast asleep in Wanda's arms. She gently placed you in the passenger seat, buckling you in securely. The rest of the team soon joined, and everyone exchanged quiet, tired smiles as they settled in for the drive home.

As Wanda drove, she kept one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours, your fingers intertwined. The squishmallows you had won sat in the backseat, a reminder of the fun and love that had filled the day. You might have used all your spoons, but with Wanda by your side, it had been more than worth it.

[thesoftboiledegg]

"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.

To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.

It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.

Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.

I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.

However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"

I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.

Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.

Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.

I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.

I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.

On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:

C-137 killed him.

Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.

C-137's keeping him alive for later use.

Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.

And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.

Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?

In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.

What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.

Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.

Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?

But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?

My fault.

Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️

(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)

with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏

anyways, enjoy!

(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.

"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.

"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"

Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."

Y/n nodded absently.

They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.

It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.

Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.

When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"

"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."

Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.

"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"

Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"

"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"

Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."

It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-

That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.

Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.

She hated herself for it.

Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.

"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."

Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.

Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.

Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.

"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.

"Take care, Y/n."

Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."

•○🌑○•

Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.

Y/n came up lacking.

Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.

That he loved her.

She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.

She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.

The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.

That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.

"When will you stop being clumsy?"

He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.

"What?"

He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"

His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.

"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.

"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.

Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.

She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.

And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.

Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.

She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.

She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.

She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.

Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.

Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.

Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.

The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.

"Yes? How can I help you?"

Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.

"I- is Cassian here?"

The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"

Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."

Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"

"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.

A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."

Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.

"Can I have a word? In private?"

The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."

Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.

She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.

When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.

The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.

Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."

His brows furrowed. "Hi..."

She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"

He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."

His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."

She nodded. "I can tell."

Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.

"I- I can explain-"

Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."

He blinked again. "What? You... what?"

She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.

"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."

Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"

His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.

"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"

Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.

"Y/n-"

But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.

But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.

And he had tears in his eyes.

"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"

Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.

"Mates?" She whispered.

Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."

Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.

She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.

"Good night."

She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

[thebigbadbatswife]

Day 13 - Size Difference

Pairing - Jason Todd x F!Thief!Reader

Warnings - 18+ content, if you're under 18 leave immediately! Size difference, rough sex, enemies with benefits.

Summary - During your late night heist, you run into Red Hood and he’s not going to let you get away so easily. Not that you want to escape anyway.

Red Hood is a mountain of a man. He towers over almost everyone that he meets and is complete made of muscle. Just the sight of him can easily intimidate a person. Not you though. Never you.

Despite the fact that his doesn’t typically deal with cat burglars, his main targets being crimelords like Black Mask, you and him have done this dance before. Yet, somehow, whenever you break into somewhere, he shows up. How he knows it’s you responsible, you don’t know. But you’re always happy to see him and he’s clearly happy to see you too with how he lets you escape. He’s completely pussy whipped and that is something you will happily use it to your advantage each and every time.

Like tonight.

The museum has a rare and exquisite gem on display. According to your research on the gem, some people believe that it has magical properties. Whether it does or not doesn’t really matter to you. What does matter is that it’s going to fetch a killing on the black market. Perhaps even enough to send you into early retirement.

You only have hold of the gem for a few seconds before he shows up. 

“Put it back.” His voice is commanding. If you were anyone else it might actually make you listen to him. But you’re not just anyone else and you’re certainly not going to listen.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” You look over your shoulder at him and give him a wink.

You dart off, but not with the purpose of escaping. Just making it look like you are. You know the layout of the building well, you’ve been studying the plans for weeks. You know where the exits are, as well as the dead ends. Purposely you had for the latter and before you know it he has you cornered and you couldn’t be more excited. He stalks toward you and you can feel heat spreading through you. 

“Looks like you caught me.” You’re already slowly pulling down the zipper attached to the front of your suit, letting your breasts spill out. You can’t see his face, but you can see the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. His eyes not doubt running up and down your body. 

“Yeah, it does.” He crosses the space between you quickly. His hands settling on your hips and pulling you against his body. You can feel his cock pressing against you through his combat trousers.

The first time you saw his cock both of you didn’t think that you could take him. Thick and long, he was certainly bigger than anyone else you had shared a bed with. But you are a stubborn and determined person. It took awhile, but you eventually worked up to fitting every last inch of him inside of you.

He strips you of your suit and undoes his pants, freeing his cock from them. You hook your leg around his hip and gasp as he finally starts to push inside of you. You’re already dripping, the thought of tonight enough to make you slick, letting him easily enter you.

You would never say it outloud to him, or anyone for that matter, but you love the feeling of him filling you up and carving you out. He always fills you to the brim, leaving you whimpering, moaning and creaming around his cock. And you open yourself up to him willingly, wanting him to bottom out inside of you before loosing all of his control and shooting his cum deep inside of your cunt. His grip on your hips is harsh and you know, if he truly wanted to, he could easily break you, but he won’t. You know he won’t. This game you both play, it’s too much fun and though he will never admit it, you know he enjoys it just as much as you do.

Especially when the two of you finally end up on the floor. You can’t see his face, his helmet stopping you. But you can feel it in the way he holds you and drills his thick cock into you. He thoroughly enjoys seeing you ride him, your breasts bouncing and your fingers playing with yourself as you lose yourself to the pleasure. The once silent halls of a museum locked up for the night filled with the sounds of moans and skin against skin.

And once you were done fucking each other, you’ll remove yourself off of him and gather your stuff. The gem included. Then you’ll disappear into the night, leaving him behind. Ready to do this dance again another night and certainly looking forward to it.

[ratgrinders]

anyways ivy embra post because on god if she wont get the scenes in canon ill imagine it myself

Ivy and Oisin were friends in middle school. Oisin was still scrawny and hadn't had his growth spurt yet and Ivy hadn't yet gotten her braces taken off. They meet each other in some group project or club or whatever, the setting doesn't matter, but what happens is you have these two children with the inherent shittiness of middle schoolers who maybe haven't had the easiest time making friends because their passive aggressiveness is too aggressive, their barbs not hidden. And they act the same way with this new, kind of nerdy looking stranger they meet and find a kindred spirit. All of a sudden you're 12/13 years old with an outlet for all the shittalking about your classmates you want. You stick together like glue, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you two because they all fuckin suck anyway, and you finally found someone who isn't a wuss and can give as good as they take.

Oisin gets better at hiding it though, being raised by a long family line of evil dragons who have had to hide their connections in plain sight will do that to you. Ivy never lost that edge around her though.

The first day of classes Freshman Year at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, Oisin's met with this group of randos, they seem competent enough, the tall sad one seems nice enough if a bit of a pushover and the small one with the ponytail seems to have her entire academic career planned out already. She's intent on the name the High Five Heroes, it's a pun, get it? Because there's five of them. But Oisin won't go anywhere without his best friend. He pulls Ivy over, and Ivy isn't having the best luck finding a party (she insults them saying why would she want to join a party with any of these losers anyway, when they're put off by one pointed comment too many). Oisin tells the others they could do well with a fighter, that they're sticking together. The tall one, the gnome, and the kobold don't seem to mind (or don't care), but the halfling seems to have swallowed a lemon. "Well, there's six of us now which throws off the entire point of the name, but that's fine! I don't care!" (she's stubborn and doesn't want to change it).

Ivy and Kipperlilly clash CONSTANTLY. Kipperlilly's specific brand of Type A nerdiness and uptightness clashes horrifically with Ivy's specific attitude of not giving a fuck and chronic need to get under people's skin. And yet, Kipperlilly's barely concealed rage and passive aggression leads that same realization Ivy had back in middle school, of having finally found a kindred spirit. If there's two things Kipperlilly and Ivy have in common, it's their initial impression driving most people away, and their need to externalize this jealousy and bad feelings as hatred and disdain for others. They LOVE gossiping. Ivy's always down to be a hater.

Corsica Jones, the fighter teacher, sees Ivy come in on the first day of classes, bow in hand, and is immediately reminded of the sister she lost, who is still missing. Every time she trains Ivy on her stance, on basic hand-to-hand, she's reminded of the times she taught her sister the very same things. She's worried, because Ivy always seems so closed off and not very engaged, so full of rage. Unfortunately Corsica's attempts to reach out and forge a connection are stopped in their infancy when instead the barbarian teacher takes an interest in her. "Well, at least she has support from someone on the faculty, even if it isn't me."

It's Oisin that kills her. They always go off as a pair anyway, and Oisin may have been acting off recently but who is she to judge a bit of anger. But a quick stab to the back, one Choice later, and all Ivy can think about is rage.

After the Mountains of Chaos, Ivy's disdain becomes Venomous. Suddenly its not fun gossip but outright Hatred, its saying words maximized for cruelty directly to the person's face, because there's a kind of sick vindication in hurting the people who rejected you for so long, even if they may not deserve it. She and Kipperlilly don't get along anymore, snide comments and petty jabs devolving into screaming matches and insults. She proposes the name Rat Grinders with Oisin, because her stubbornness at refusing to change the name isn't endearing anymore, and there are six of them, did you oppose me joining the party that badly? It's a bit funny to see her so worked up over a stupid party name, that kind of earnest childish straightforwardness of the High Five Heroes makes her gag. The Rat Grinders is a funny inside joke, and Ivy is not comfortable engaging anymore without that layer of irony. For some reason, it doesn't feel good in the same way to hurt Kipperlilly like this, it just leave a knot of frustration that rankles in her stomach, because why does she care so much??

When Lucy dies, she doesn't remember much. She remembers the realization at the choice she'd made, and the rage that followed. Afterwards, though, was a deep all consuming bitterness. Of course she wasn't coming back, little miss goody two shoes never had any intentions of following through and left the rest of us with the fallout. She never expected otherwise, and she refuses to mourn someone who did not give enough of a shit about them to come back. She doesn't think about how Lucy helped her bleach her hair, how she braided Lucy's in return. How Lucy's birthday was coming up and she bought her new clothes, how that bag will stay unopened in her room now.

When she dies on the floor of her high school gymnasium, desperately defending every callous insult she's made with her dying breath, her last moments are spent locking eyes with her best friend, who is looking on in horror. She thinks back to a similar scenario, last year, when that same friend saw her dying and did nothing. She thinks back to them in seventh grade, trading childish insults without any real weight. And then she doesn't think anything at all.

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders meets apocalypse? maybe some kind of trope where they got separated from the reader at the beginning of it all and while they knew all the spots they were likely to meet up at they just kept missing each other, times being off and such! + like after some time them finally find their way back together

Thanks for requesting my love! Idk how the first war went (fake fan!) but I imagine this “apocalypse” as during that time, something like the wizarding world in the Deathly Hallows after the death eaters take the ministry? I hope this is alright <3

apocalypse poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

It’s getting dark, and you know that you can’t sleep here but you probably will anyway. 

The cave isn’t a very comfortable place to spend the night, nor does it allow much room for hiding. If some troop of death eaters manages to track you here, you’ll be cornered, but you’ve long since gotten over the fear of being found. That panic lives in your bones now. It’s like your heartbeat, so inseparable from you that you don’t even notice it most the time. 

And honestly, if they want to find you here, let them. You’ve got nowhere else to go. 

This is the last place you could think of that the boys might come looking for you, the last place that hasn’t been found and desecrated and reduced to searing rubble. James told you once that they used to slip away during trips to Hogsmeade and explore these caves when they were younger. There are dozens of them, but he talked about one, the biggest, at the top of the hill, that they’d made their favorite hideout. You hope he remembers telling you as clearly as you remember hearing it. If they don’t find you here, you’ll have to face the question of whether you know your boyfriends as well as you think you do. Or whether you still have boyfriends to know. 

The view from their cave would normally be spectacular, Hogsmeade all lit up and surrounded by woodlands, but knowing that only makes what you’re actually looking down at seem worse. The usually quaint and lively town is abandoned. You can’t detect any movements in the streets and not a single lamppost is lit. What had been such a beacon of joy and fun during your time at Hogwarts, a place tied to some of your best memories—saving money when you were little for sweets at Honeydukes, getting butterbeer with your friends at the Three Broomsticks, watching performers in the square—has been reduced to this ghost town, dark and lonely and vacant but for the poor souls too frightened to leave their homes. 

Even as bleak as the town appears, your stomach grumbles looking down at it. Luckily, you’ve been able to utilize your skill with the obliviate charm to steal from muggle corner stores without anyone noticing, but though you leave the memories of the clerks largely intact, you still feel awful about it. No matter what food you smuggle away, guilt turns it bland and unappetizing in your mouth, and you haven’t tried to find a meal in a couple of days. Remus is good with illusions, if he were with you he could make money out of leaves and walk out of restaurants without having to tamper with the muggles themselves. Or if James still has the invisibility cloak, you could be using it to get all kinds of things without raising any suspicion. 

An owl hoots in the trees below you, and your head snaps up out of some hopeful instinct. But no, no one is sending you letters here. You’re not even sure if owls are allowed anymore, or if there’s anyone left who would write to you. You wish desperately that Remus was here to tell you you’re being silly, that Voldemort’s followers couldn’t possibly have squashed every ounce of rebellion in just a couple weeks, or Sirius to make fun of the robes the death eaters wear like third years in their rebellious goth phase, or James to hug you and promise, however emptily, that it’ll all be alright in the end. 

But as much as you miss the boys, you’re glad they have each other. At least, last you saw them they did. 

There’s a shuffling of rocks outside, and you flinch away from the mouth of the cave. It could be an animal, or the wind, but you can’t chance it. You move as quietly as you can to the darkness in the back, pressing yourself against a wall and doing your best to sink into the shadows as you slip your wand free of your shirtsleeve. You’ve got an expelliarmus on your tongue, hoping desperately that will be enough and too cautious to hope for anything more, when the first dark figure climbs into the entrance of the cave. 

“Merlin,” a male voice says, shrugging a pack off onto the floor, “it used to feel a bit bigger, don’t you think?”

A choked sob gives away your location, but it hardly matters, because in the next instant you’re racing towards the figure, shoes slipping clumsily on the damp ground. He curses, scrambling for his wand, but then you’re on him, and it’s all he can do to stay upright as your arms go around his neck. 

He recognizes you then, gasping your name just as the other two boys make their way up to the landing. They’re mere silhouettes against the twilight outside, but even through your tear-blurred vision you’d know them anywhere. You make a high-pitched keening sound, and Sirius and Remus both rush to you, smushing you and James between them. 

You can’t stop crying, splintered, gasping sobs like a child that doesn’t know how to live in the world on its own. You know James is weeping too from the wetness seeping into the collar of your shirt, and you think it’s Sirius’ hand that’s fisted in the back of your coat, but it really doesn’t matter. They’re here. They’re all here. 

“I didn’t think you’d come here,” Remus says, voice ragged. 

You laugh, and it’s a rough, awful sound, rusty from weeks of disuse. “I wasn’t sure you would either.” 

“Fuck, baby.” Sirius adjusts his grip on you, trying to pull you closer though you’re already pressed against him. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You take a breath, steadying yourself as you step back where you can see them. They all look a little worse for wear, but that’s expected. James is rubbing underneath his glasses, teartracks cutting through what looks like soot on his face. Sirius too is dirtier than he ever would’ve allowed just a couple weeks ago, but he doesn’t seem like he’s lost any weight. And the scars you can see Remus, you conclude after some inspection, are the same ones you’ve been getting to know for years. They all seem okay. However they did it, they’ve managed to stay safe. 

“I’ve been everywhere,” you say finally. “I went to the shack first, but there were death eaters there.” 

James brow furrows, and he sniffles. “There weren’t any around when we went. When did you check there?”

“The day after it happened.” 

“We were there just that morning.” 

You sit down on the cold earth, careless of the dampness seeping into your pants. “I wanted to go sooner, but I couldn’t get away from my neighborhood. They were everywhere.” 

Sirius takes a blanket out of the pack James had discarded, laying it out on the floor of the cave and motioning for you to come sit beside him on it. 

“Did you try Godric’s Hallow?” Remus asks, spreading another blanket for himself and James across from you. “We hung around there for days.”

“Yeah,” you say. Remus sets a hand on your knee as he sits in front of you, James seating himself across from Sirius. “I went there straight after the shack, didn’t leave until the next night.” 

“You’re joking.” Sirius looks at you, devastation written across his features. “We got there three days after we got separated from you. We had to have been there at the same time.” 

You let out a short, stilted laugh, laying your head on Sirius’ shoulder as a fresh wave of tears obscures your vision. “We must’ve just missed each other.” Sirius wraps an arm around your shoulder, resting his head atop yours. “Wonder how many times that happened,” you say bitterly. 

“It doesn’t matter now.” Remus' tone is firm, but his knee bumps into yours consolingly. “We’re together, and…and we’re not going to get separated again. I won’t let it happen.” 

“But I think we should pick a more definitive meeting spot,” Sirius says with forced lightness. “Just to be sure, you know?”

James actually laughs, and the familiar sound lifts the mood in the cave slightly. 

“Probably,” you agree. “Hey, you guys don't have any food on hand, do you?”

“Merlin, is that rumbling your stomach?” Sirius asks. “I was thinking the roof of this place was about to come down.” He nudges you playfully, and you lean more of your weight onto him in response. He’s laying it on a bit thick in an attempt to try and brighten the atmosphere in your little cave, but you love him for it. 

“We’ve got food,” James says, already digging through the pack. “Sandwich okay?”

As ridiculous as it would’ve sounded to you a month ago, the idea of a full sandwich, with bread and everything, makes your mouth water. “More than okay.” You take it from him, all but moaning as you chew your first bite. “Fuck, this is so luxurious.” 

“If you think that’s luxurious,” James says enticingly, “wait until you see the grade-a sleeping pads we picked up. It’s a good thing we found you before you had to sleep in here, angel, because this is about to be a major improvement.” 

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. This is already a major improvement.