#that vex meets him where he is with his curse and everything and loves him with it anyway

[madamescarlette]

It's important to me as my primary cr1 mutuals that you know that She's Always A Woman is THE Perc'ahlia song out there for me, the associations are so strong for me now (also I Know Places)

okokokokok so I FINALLY got a chance to sit down and listen and had a nice lil cry over how stupidly DEAR AND SWEET THIS SONG IS. She can lead you to love????? She is frequently kind / and she's suddenly cruel???? She'll bring out the best and the worst you can be?????

SCREAMS!!! What a perfect and gentle way to sum up all the contradictions of who Vex is!! And the steady constant way that Perce sees her. There is something so unbearably affectionate and loving about the tone of this song that's so!!!!! much to me and I'm so grateful. Your mind ma'am Grace darling!!!

I Know Places is also an equally sweet song for Vex's side, it gives me all the Briarwoods arc feelings! There is indeed something very very very lovely about someone who will take your hand and run away with you when you are going through the lowest patch of your life and finds a way for you to still be yourself through it all.

[iamfina5]

The Kinslayer Couple

Summary: In the span of a week, the peaceful life of Princess Valaena Velaryon is destroyed. At its start, the Iron Throne is usurped, casting the realm headlong into war. Her mother is annointed Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and she Princess of Dragonstone. At its end, her brother Lucerys is slain by her husband, Aemond Targaryen. In a story of love and tragedy, betrayal and hope, Valaena must embark on a perilous journey to win a war against her own kin, daunted by friends and foes on either side of the fray.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Ambers and Honeys

First Prev

135 A.C.

Climbing through Sea Dragon Tower, Aemond curses his brothers. After six moons of dread and despair, he has at long last returned to Dragonstone to meet his wife and child, yet he does not have the clarity of mind for rejoicement. Rather, he is plagued by thoughts of Aegon and wherewith and wherefore he is here, of wherewith and wherefore Daeron is here with him, and all of Daeron’s incessant questions.

With several stories beneath them, Daeron has grown somewhat breathless. “Did you fly on one of the twin’s dragons? Do they fly well on their own? Who was that third boy? Did you—”

Swiveling on his heel, Aemond stops abruptly. Daeron stops, too, and quiets, staring up at him in anticipation of the answers for his myriad inquiries. Aemond pays him no mind, staring past him as he contemplates the need to turn back. In his haste, he forgot Viserys. He left him with Aegon, who would be sure to kill him was he to discover his true name.

Though he is still drawn to the apartments above his head, he knows he must retrieve Viserys before he advances farther. He brought the boy all this way for one purpose, to unite him with his sister and win back her love. Cursing, he starts back down the stairs. Daeron pesters him with a fresh barrage of queries. “Why have we turned back? Why are we running? Why will you not answer me?”

Aemond continues to ignore him, all the way back to the castle’s front hall. There, he finds Helaena, with a child’s hand grasped in each of her own. Without slowing, he plucks Viserys from the ground and accosts her, “Where is Aegon?”

She glimpses back toward the courtyard. “The twins are telling him about their dragons.” Looking back to him, she wonders, “What happened to Aegon’s face and hand?”

Belatedly, it occurs to him that he neglected to tell Helaena of her husband’s injuries during their time in Lorath. He answers curtly, “Valaena lit him on fire.”

Helaena is nothing short of intrigued. “Really?”

Uninterested in revisiting the old tale, he moves the conversation along. “Did he notice Rys?” She nods. “What did he say?”

“Who,” she questions.

“Aegon,” he clarifies.

“About what,” she asks.

Vexed, he hisses, “Helaena.” Only Viserys reacts to his frustration, giggling, whilst Helaena keeps her same, placid expression. Shushing the child in his arms, he enunciates, as calm and clear as can be, “Did Aegon say anything about Rys?”

At last, her confusion clears. “Oh. Yes.”

He waits for her to say more, but for naught. Impatiently, he demands, “What?”

“He asked who he was,” she answers.

He continues to prompt her. “And what was your reply?”

“I cannot explain everything to you,” she tells him and, gripped by some impulse, wanders off with Maelor.

Muttering under his breath about ladies’ love of talking until there is actually something one wishes to hear from them, he turns back toward Sea Dragon Tower. He stifles yet more frustration as faces another impediment. With yet another question set on his lips, Daeron stands in his way. “So, who is this?”

Thankfully, Viserys is well trained by now, and he answers for Aemond, “My name is Rys.”

His attention diverted, Daeron greets the boy pleasantly, “Hello.” When he looks back to Aemond, he has his same question set on his face.

Ruefully, Aemond mourns that he did not draw up a colorable lie before he departed from Lorath. Granted, he had not expected to meet anyone here but Valaena and Baela, both of whom surely would have recognized Viserys at once, and without threat to the boy.

He decides it best to tell a simple tale. “I took a liking to him in Essos, so I took him with me.”

Faintly horrified, Daeron repeats, “You ‘took him?’ Did his parents give their blessing?”

Thinking of how Rhaenyra and Daemon might react were they to learn that he came upon their youngest son, alone and unsuspecting, Aemond laughs. “No.”

Wincing, Daeron chastises softly, “Aemond.” Hardly ashamed, Aemond gives him a flat look. Sighing as though disappointed, Daeron straightens. This forces Aemond’s gaze upward, and it occurs to him that Daeron, the little shit, has outgrown him. It seems to occur to Daeron, too. He smirks, inquiring, “How is the air down there, Brother?” Scowling, Aemond shoves past him and starts back toward Sea Dragon Tower.

During this second trek, Aemond asks the questions. “Wherefore are you and Aegon here?”

At his side, Daeron regales him with a whimsical tale, nearly so whimsical as the tale of his own travels through Essos. As Daeron tells it, Aegon took Dragonstone a few months past, though he was here as early as the year’s start, unbeknownst to all. Later, Daeron ventured here with Valaena after his dragon and their army in the South fell. At first, he was taken to King’s Landing so that Rhaenyra might relieve him of his head, but Valaena convinced her to augment the Queensguard with his sword, and she named him Valaena’s sworn protector.

Hearing this, Aemond is brought up short. He stops and turns toward his brother. “You turned your cloak?”

This characterization earns Aemond a glare. “Only to right the wrong of turning it in the first place.”

Troubled by his tone, Aemond steps in close to him. Unshrinking, Daeron stands his ground. Aemond does not allow this to deter him from scolding his little brother, supposing that few people appear intimidating with a child on their hip. Voice low, he intones, “What, you’re Black now? You truly think our half-sister should rule?”

“You and Mother and Grandsire always said she would kill us if she took the throne, but she showed me mercy.” Daeron waves his arm in a wide arc. “And consider that all three of our mother’s sons live. It is three of her sons who have been slain.”

Aemond is diverted by the tally. He knows the count to be too high not only for Viserys, but for another, as well. Carefully, he sets Viserys down so that he does not hear. Pushing Daeron farther down the hall, he inquires, “Three?”

Ducking his head, Daeron divulges, “Aye. Joffrey was struck down two moons past.”

“How did it happen,” Aemond questions, worried for how it will affect his relationship with Valaena.

Haltingly, Daeron details a week of riots in King’s Landing, punctuated by the deaths of Daemon, Joffrey, and two of their family’s dragons. He says that Rhaenyra and Aegon the Younger were forced to flee lest they be slain, too, and now, they are nowhere to be found.

Disquieted, Aemond wonders, “Who rules the Seven Kingdoms?”

“Rhaenyra is missing. Aegon hides out here.” Daeron shrugs. “No one.”

Aemond is somewhat struck by the gravity of his words, for so much has been sacrificed so that one of his elder siblings could sit the Iron Throne. Ultimately, however, he decides that such is not his concern. Not now, when there are far more pressing, far more personal matters at hand. Starting down the hall again, he commands Viserys to keep up with him, uncaring if Daeron does the same. He keeps a steady pace. When they pass Rhaenyra’s rooms, he steers Viserys away from her door, the little boy having roamed toward it on instinct.

When at last they come upon Valaena’s apartment, Aemond is astounded and thoroughly chagrined to find Criston keeping sentry before it. The sight of the knight standing watch is reminiscent of one moons past, before he and Criston both were cast out of Dragonstone. Thinking of the marks the man left on Valaena before his departure, Aemond seethes, though his voice is measured as he hails him. “Cole, you’re back.”

The turncloak is as insolent as ever. “As are you, my prince.”

Aemond lets his displeased stare linger a moment longer before attempting to brush past him. Unfortunately, he does not get far. As he places his hand on the door’s knob, Criston catches his wrist. “Lady Valaena is not allowed any visitors.”

Just as he had when last Criston pulled this stunt, Aemond lifts his right hand from the door and opens it with his left. As he shoves past him, he impels Viserys through the door ahead of him lest Criston get a good enough look at the boy to recognize him. Daeron trails them, closing the door behind him.

The solar is empty when they enter. Worming out of Aemond’s hold, Viserys makes for the bedchamber. Aemond follows at a slower pace. For all that he has envisioned meeting Valaena again, he finds it daunting now that the moment is upon him. He is uncertain of how pleased she will be to see him, especially now that he knows she has been Aegon’s prisoner for two moons. He prays that, as intended, Viserys will mollify her.

He comes into the room to find Viserys climbing onto the bed, where Valaena lies, sound asleep. Aemond would think it odd for this time of day was he not so preoccupied by the sight of her, so clearly with child.

She is ensconced within her linens, the bedclothes tucked all the way up to her chin, though it is clear what lies beneath them. With her laid out on her back, her stomach protrudes into the air, taller than is her head, even with its perch on her pillow.

Aemond is stunned, to say the least. To think that he would return home to find his wife with child—another child—all with him having known naught about it, having suspected naught, as well. He supposes the timing is right. It looks right. By the gods—

Keep Reading

[star--joy]

Hold My Hand & Watch the Sun Rise

When Vex is woken by a nightmare, Percy has the perfect remedy: watching the Whitestone sunrise together.

-

Perc'ahlia Week Day One: Dawn/Treasure

-

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1208

Originally posted: 9/24/23

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50305858

The nightmare is a vague thing. Incomprehensible, really. There is no monster, no big bad to be afraid of, nothing of the sort. It’s just dark and empty and Vex is running, running, running, away from nothing and everything at the same time. Thick, syrupy dread pools in her stomach.

When she finally jolts awake, she does not scream, or thrash, or even whimper. No, she’s had far too much practice to allow such obvious distress to show. The only thing to leave her trembling lips is a gasp. Quiet, easily swallowed by the still night air.

Alas, Percy was always a terribly light sleeper. The tiny noise is enough to pull him to consciousness. “Mmh?”

Vex holds still, hoping he’ll decide that nothing is wrong and fall back into a full rest.

No such luck. Her hitched breathing must give her away. Or perhaps he can feel the pounding of her heart from where their bodies press together. Either way, he leans up slightly on his elbow, blinking as he tries to see through the darkness of the room. “Vex, I know you’re awake.”

“No, I’m not,” she huffs, scooting a few inches away so he’s no longer spooning her so closely. “Go back to sleep.”

Percy is silent for a long few moments, but Vex isn’t foolish enough to think he actually listened to her command. Even if she couldn’t feel him watching her, she knows him well enough to know that returning to sleep is now a lost cause for the gunslinger. He’s going to be too focused on making sure she’s okay to get any more rest.

Gods damn him and his loving fucking care.

“Shall I call for Vax?”

“No, I’m fine. Just— please, Percy, I don’t want to talk about it.” The last thing Vex wants is to worry her brother with something as inconsequential as this. She can’t even remember any details of the nightmare, for Pelor’s sake! It’s nothing. She can handle it.

Percy ever-so-gently reaches for her arm, letting his calloused fingers slide down her wrist until their fingers can wrap together. “Dear Heart,” he whispers, eventually, and Vex curses the way that moniker always sounds so lovely on his lips. “Have you ever seen a proper Whitestone sunrise?”

“…what?”

Without letting go of her hand, Percy reaches over to fumble on the nightstand for his glasses. “It’s extraordinarily beautiful, if you have the patience to see it through. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to watch it together.”

Vex turns to peer at him, the squint of her eyes caused half by the dim lighting, half by a confused suspicion. “Why?”

His throat bobs, and he takes a few seconds to consider his answer. “Because I think it would calm you.”

Instinct clamps around Vex, demanding she turn sharp and defensive, deny his care on principle. If it were anyone but Percy, she would probably give into that instinct without hesitation.

As it is, she fights her gut response and tries to meet him in the middle. “Alright. But I’m not talking about it. Yet.”

Percy nods. “Whenever you’re ready, I trust you’ll come to me. Until then, I won’t pry,” he assures her, bringing her hand up to his lips, kissing the fingers before he guides her out of the bed.

Vex’s silky sleep dress ripples around her as she follows her husband, who only makes a quick stop to their closet so he can throw one of his fur-lined tailcoats over her goose-bump covered shoulders before leading her out to the balcony attached to their bedroom. 

The fresh night air is a balm Vex didn’t know she needed as they step outside. No signs of sunlight appear over the trees, but she reckons it won’t be long before it begins to peek out. In the meantime, she sits on the edge of the bench they’d had installed. Percy sits a few inches away from her, connected only by their intertwined hands, but it doesn’t go unnoticed how he keeps his posture open. If, or rather, when she will inevitably want to, Vex will have no trouble curling into his side. Just now, though, she appreciates the distance.

Time passes. Even in the silence, Percy does not twitch, does not fidget. His eyes are locked onto the treeline. Vex pulls her knees up to her chest so she’s hugging her legs, chin resting on her kneecaps. Focuses on breathing, slowly, in and out.

“Look,” Percy whispers, after what she would estimate to be half-an-hour has slipped by. He points to the forest, where the first beams of purple are beginning to cut across the sky, just barely visible. “It’s starting.”

Vex trails her gaze over the slowly-lightening dawn. “Do you watch this often?” she asks, voice raspy with sleep, but steadier than it had been before. The fresh air and silent company has helped her calm down remarkably well. 

“Not for a long time. This used to be my mother’s remedy to our nightmares, when my siblings and I were young.”

While he speaks, Vex tilts herself into his side, and he’s quick to tuck her into his blanket. Her voice is small when she whispers, “I don’t even remember what I dreamed about, really. Isn’t that stupid?”

It’s a relief when he doesn’t immediately sprout off some practiced response, but rather considers it deeply. “It’s illogical, perhaps, but feelings rarely fall into the realm of logic. We’re all bound to have emotions we can’t explain. Whether or not they’re ‘stupid’, as you say, does not have an effect on whether or not we are.”

The answer is so true to Percy that Vex can’t help but snort a tiny laugh. “Eloquent fucker.”

He shares her laughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not called a genius for nothing.”

They lapse into silence once more, and Vex soon finds herself enraptured by the pinks and oranges and yellows that scatter across the dim sky, a mirage she’d been entirely unprepared for. It casts warm light on the city spread out before the forest, as the early-risers begin to leave their homes and do the first errands of the day. Everything is painted in gold. She’d assumed that Percy was exaggerating about the beauty of it all, but looking at it now, there’s no denying how correct he was. “Holy shit,” she whispers.

He pulls her in tighter, running his hand up and down her upper arm. “I told you.”

“Don’t be smug,” she laughs.

“I would never,” he lies, resting his head on top of hers.

The colors continue to mingle and blend as the sun lifts higher and higher. Whitestone’s streets grow busier, shops opening and parents taking children to school. Mingled chatter rises through the air, reaching their ears.

It’s utterly soothing, and Vex cannot help the way her eyes flutter shut for several seconds too long every time she blinks. Percy notices, because of course he does, but does not comment. All he does is tuck his coat more securely around her shoulders and continue to stroke her softly.

When the dawn finishes, she’s long asleep once more. This time, she dreams of nothing but the feeling of being loved.

[cyber-puppygirl]

season of the dawn is literally my favorite destiny 2 season of all time and it’s so fucked up that like basically all of its content is gone.

as a guardian you hear stories of legends, guardians whose power and resolve rival those of gods and are revered as such by humans and guardians alike. this is taken a bit further with Saint-XIV, who was one of the many guardians who fought at the twilight gap; a fallen siege on the last city of sol where dozens of guardians died their final deaths.

this point is even further proved with Saint in the curse of osiris dlc where you venture into the infinite forest, a vex simulator that they use to predict many futures, and find his final resting place inside. a burial place made for Saint by the vex; an unfeeling robot hivemind. what made them do that you might ask. he fought them endlessly for years until they found a way to counter his light specifically, strip him of it and ultimately, killed him.

on him however, you get the best weapon in the entire game ever: the perfect paradox. at first glance it just seems like a Saint-XIV themed shotgun, but when you read the associated lore tab is where everything for the season of dawn starts to get set up, 2(ish) years ahead of its release. it’s a note from Saint to you, personally. he loved hearing from you that the last city is alive and well and he loved to hear how much it’s changed, he talks more about that and a couple other things that he wouldn’t know due to being trapped in the infinite forest for so long. at the end of the note he then claims that the shotgun you gave him has served him well. that’s right the gun you picked up off of Saint is originally YOURS.

anyway fast forward two years and osiris is asking you to venture into the infinite forest again but with his sundial, a time machine made to be used exclusively inside the forest to stop the red legion from using it to change the course of the red war. but as you do that you find Saint ALIVE inside the forest, fighting. you meet with him and talk a bit, or well your ghost talks. and he tells Saint about the last city (he left earth to try and colonize mercury during the dark ages, after earth was overrun by fallen, not knowing the vex had arrived there first) and to let him know all he’s done isn’t in vain. and then, your ghost materializes the Perfect Paradox for Saint, and tells him “my guardian made this out of spare parts and Light and sheer will to aid you”. you wish him luck and then you are pulled out of the forest. you meet him a couple more times with the last time actually saving Saint-XIV, the greatest titan who ever lived. he tells you he is gonna stay inside the forest for bit longer, he’s not done tearing through the vex just yet. you get a cutscene where he says “since the day met you i swore i would make it my duty to follow your example. i’m still trying”.

being able to interact and talk with guardian legends like osiris and ikora or zavala, or even iron lord saladin is great these guys are very cool powerful guardians. but this is different, you changed fate like in the vault of glass, and saved a legend. and for that he idolizes you. you, the nameless guardian who never speaks. moments like these are why i play destiny, because in that moment i, just like anyone else, in that moment became legend.

[vextried]

Here’s an au I made with my cirque du freak ocs that’s kind of its own story but yeah (all art is by me!)

let’s do this

The King’s Menagerie

Synopsis:

A corrupted king (Or if it’s still cirque du freak a king who isn’t corrupt but uh still a little questionable) offers criminals in his kingdom a choice after committing crimes: beheading or join the kings personal arrangement of jesters. The catch? You can’t leave, and you’re assigned an animal. For every mistake you make (messing up during shows, defining staff, etc) you are slowly being cursed into the animal you’re assigned. Make one too many mistakes, and you’re forever stuck in the king’s zoo as an animal.

Let’s meet our performers!

Performer Number One:

🦊🎟️Madison Moore🎟️🦊

Madison Moore, or referred to as “Fox” is a rather bold and often cunning character. She joined after a rather lengthy fight with a royal, one where she ended up covered in blood.

She has a little fox tail! It’s a fluffy blonde, like her hair. It’s a bit uncomfortable and kind of a pain but hey, it looks cool doesn’t it? She often performs songs for the king as she has one of the nicer singing voice in the group. She’s confident and charismatic, but under her surface she’s always brewing up plans for her friends.

Whether it’s to take down the king and the royals, or to just steal extra food, she always has a plan up her sleeve…

Performer Number Two:

🦁🧡Vere Hernandez🧡🦁

Vere Hernandez, “The Lion”. Don’t be scared by his gruff exterior, he’s really just a sweetheart in disguise. He’s the big brother of the group, the one always looking out for others. Despite how scary he seems, he will do anything for those he loves. He joined after going against orders and protecting the village people of an enemy kingdom.

He has a lion tail, and later in the story fluffy ears, claws, and the eyes to match the fierce animal he’s supposed to be based off of. It doesn’t bother him too much, not for now at least. He likes to dance for the most part or act, putting on a bravado in front of guests.

There’s never anything he wouldn’t do for his friends, even taking hits and blows for those he loves…

Performer Three

🦌🌼Amy Young 🌼🦌

Amy Young, our absolutely innocent and adorable “Doe”. She’s the second oldest and one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Unfortunately, kindness is not enough to get you out of punishment. She joined after getting caught stealing food for her family.

She’s the most cursed out of everyone in the group! Due to the amount of mistakes she makes, she’s very close to being completely cursed. She has deer legs, big ol’ ears, antlers, and a cute tail! With everything happening to her she’s extremely anxious and scared to do a single thing wrong. Most of what she does is dancing, and even that’s pretty simple.

If there’s one thing she is good at, it’s dealing with the chaos of performing. Amy’s always able to calm the others down when things get rough!

Performer Four

🐇🧩Adeline O’Conner🧩🐇

Our main character! Most of this AU is focused on her specifically. Adeline’s the youngest and most recent member of the group! She’s sassy and sarcastic, but deep down she’s confused about all of this. Being known as “Bunny” is annoying to her, and whenever she’s referred to as such she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. After the failed assassination of a prince, she joined, too scared to die.

She has a bunny tail! It was doomed to happen eventually, being the newest member and all, but was still a shock to her. She hates the constant singing and dancing but goes along with it all to avoid the risk of becoming like Amy (sorry girl).

Already coming up with ways to get out, she’s a clever girl. Being the youngest and most underestimated does have its perks. They’ll learn soon enough she’s a force to be reckoned with.

Performer Five

🐍🌀Vex Eden🌀🐍

Ah yes, because every court needs their snake. Despite the nickname he has, “Snake” is not much of a snake at all. Vex is mischievous and silly, sure, but quite the opposite of what people think when they hear his name. He’s not deceitful, at least to those he cares about. He was the second most recent member to arrive before Adeline after getting caught in a rather compromising position with an enemy knight.

He has a snake tail, and scales on various parts of his body! He’s kinda like Evra but not fully snake just yet. He’s the one who mostly shows Adeline the ropes around the court. He loves to do everything, singing and dancing.

Vex may be keen on playing pranks on the members of the court, but it’s all in good fun. After all, he doesn’t want to be the next sucker stuck in the zoo now, does he…

And last but not least

Performer Six

🦇🌂Antione Durand🌂🦇

The oldest member of the group! Antione, known as “Bat” is a member who’s quite interesting. He knows all the tricks, all the spells. He’s seen people be cursed, people he knows seem to disappear like nothing. While it hurts, it’s made him wise about everything there is to the court and the king. He joined the circus many years ago after a fight with the king himself.

He has wings growing! They’re quite small, but they’re there. There’s also fangs and claws and dark black eyes that make him creepier than he really is. Or so they say. He’s quite the thespian, not much good at singing or dancing.

Antione is simply thriving out of spite. He wants the king to be annoyed, to be pissed. While he likes being a pain in the ass, he tries to take the brunt of the kings anger, and tries to make sure his friends don’t get themselves cursed like the rest of the people he knows

Conclusion

So I might make more posts about these guys. It may be art, writing, or lore. The story will go back and forth between AU and Original story, some characters in cirque du freak do have roles in this story! (Mainly the princes and Desmond but some others are there as well). If you have any questions feel free to ask. You can also make your ocs into jesters as well, would love to see it!

My next post will go into the canon characters and the roles they have, so stay tuned!

[muffindaddystyles]

DENTIST THE BAD BOI (PART2)

Word Count: 17k.

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Y/N's much tolerable when less grumpy then more kissable, more loveable and cuddleable and Harry wants to be more than just fuck buddies that he ends up giving Y/N a tooth ache.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff, smut and domestic love.

MASTERLIST | REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN | PART 1

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

Harry’s lips quirks up into a loopish smile at that and he hoists his knee up and above, sinking his palms into her soft mattress besides her temple and blocks the mellow sunshine that peeks through her lace curtains. Her heart squeezes out of her rib-bones and turns gooey somewhere within her insides as her lungs fill with his minty and warm ardour and if she'd be not this flushed and throbbing between her sticky thighs she'd have cracked a dentist joke.

“Y’want me to lick y'cookie f'ye?” He gives her a bunny grin and his fingertips tickles her shoulder; milky skin twinkling at him from the neckline of her shirt that’s barely sitting there and she pouts raising her hands to smack his chest, but he grabs them and tugs her forward, tutting sternly, “I want an answer.” His foresty pupils darkens around rims and her throat turns scratchy. So, she bobs her head up and down eagerly, feeling the metal around his fingers smouldering into her wrist and the thought of it on her clit makes her mewl.

It dings his adam apple sexily and his eyes turn soft and cheeks rosy, Harry doesn’t know what she likes or not so he’s gonna start tentative and careful and gradually ease her into taking big things after, letting her drip onto sheets for hours if she’d like him edging and teasing her.

She watches him with doe-innocent eyes and Harry almost ruts his hips against the mattress from the way his cock twitches weepily -- sensitive against the fabric of his joggers.

He keeps their intense eye contact while sliding back down between her legs and cares his calloused warm palms under the back of her cushiony fleshy thighs and bends her knees up, his eyes flicker towards her tummy that exposes to him when she stretches out gracefully in reaction to his tingling touch.

Making sure she’s alright, his nimble taps her ankle and when she breathes out a whiny “yes.”,

He gropes the insides of her thighs and spreads them apart and presses them down letting her make puny noises when the cool air teases her folds, she smells so good for him, “Already such a puddle, Muffy. G'na gimme a sugar rush from ye'sweetness.” He darts his pink tongue out to moisturize his petal lip and his grunt pleased and heavy upon seeing her gush more arousal just from listening him talk.

He spreads her swollen pussylips apart with his middle and pointer finger and her chin tips towards the ceiling, mouth apart around a gasp when he glints a smirk towards her all while poking his tongue out and flattening it against her clenching entrance and licks her juices up.

“Does it feel good?” He hums nonchalantly nosing at her little button and paints his lips with her wetness. She stays a bit stiff. Not making any move and staying put in her position. Harry takes her clit between his teeth when she whimpers out and her body turns taut, her hands balling at her sides.

“Y've t’use y’words with me, moppet. It works two ways, always.” His hands reaches blindly for her wrists and he puts them over his poof of hair but it remains fisted and he rubs his big hands up and down where her thighs meets her sweet cunt, “Try t’ relax. Can y'do that fo'me, pet?”

His brows pinches together into a frown. His glistening lips from her turning into a grumpy pout when she doesn’t respond — was he unable to make her feel hot and excited? she should tell him if she didn’t like it.

“Y/N ...” He raises his head slowly from between her thighs and his jaw goes slack, his eyes bursting wide seeing her holding her breath and hiding her face underneath her forearm, “Shit. Shit. Y/N!” He’s quickly crawling towards her and sliding his hand under her back, brings her to his chest with his fingers wrapped around the nook of her elbow.

“Breathe, Sweetheart. ‘s okay.” Is this what she was talking about? Is this why she has specific days for touching herself? Poor bambi. He massages her back with tender circles and sighs in relief when he feels her chest calming down back to normal.

“Y/N ...” He pushes her away from shoulders to look down at her sternly and takes her hair into his grasp and slinks them to side, “What’s happenin’ with ye'muffy?” He gives her a downturn of lips and quirk of brow indicating her that there isn’t any escape for this time.

For fuck’s sake! He’s her bestfriend. He should know atleast that she’s alright!

He gauges for her eyes when she presses her palms into his knees and lifts her bum a tad from the sheets, shy embarrassment turning the tips of her ears pink, manipulating her toffee lip in her mouth and Harry pushes back the hair that are falling in her eyes.

She’s feeling hell load giddy and humiliated to tell him this.

Harry startles back, blinking rapidly when she squeaks out in one breath, “’M scared to hurt you!” He pulls her forward with his hand wrapped around the nape of her neck and frowns.

His touch with her tender and un-conceit, when usually he’s a domineering in bed and riles them enough for them to beg and moan pathetically for him.

“What? Scared ---.. hurt?” He tries to piece what she said together but it doesn’t make any sense. So, he guesses that he'd have to pry some more from her, “What're ye' talkin' bout muffy?” He sighs noticing the way she clenches the hem of her shirt and mumbles something but Harry’s giving her a piercing glare and it makes her ramble anxiously.

His hand affixed at her skimmed from under her shirt and his thumb keeps on circling her hip-bone.

“’M afraid that I’ll get all horny ‘n loose all my senses and be all rough with you, ending up hurtin'y and I’ll be too engulfed in pleasure that you wouldn’t be able to stop me ....” She fiddles her fingers vigorously in Harry’s hand and he's cutting her with a tut, “That’s the point silly girl.” He chuckles amused at her and she shakes her head whining up at him with a surly expression. The corners of her eyes pinkish and watery from forcing herself to feel the pleasure Harry’s tongue was devoting her.

“But, Harry ‘m not some insatiable monster!!” His heart thuds at the concerned worrisome look on her angelic features and he’s cupping her cheeks, he curses out internally to whoever told her this and his lip grouches up, “You’re not some insatiable monster. Who the fuck fed you this bullshit?” He scolds her and it makes her fleet her gaze away from him.

“You’re not —-... what the fuck, Y/N. Tell me their name so I could break their jaw.” He gasps in shock and he spits in venom. Knuckling at her chin to prop it high infront of him and doesn’t break the cogent eye contact -– his eyes full of hatred and loath for the person.

That damn person who made his Bambi, so insecure and conscious and self-degrading about herself.

“The guy –,” She stutters. He gives her an encouraging hum and she plays with his rings, she knows that he’ll never make fun of her about it and mighty be understanding.

He has always been.

But sometimes he laughs at the worst moments. Not his fault. She has adopted that habit too from living with him.

Right now though. He looks very serious and furious, it creeps heat up her throat.

“The guy I lost my virginity to. He said – he ... umm said that I hurt him when I flipped him underneath me and was being selfish asking him to you know ...?” She mumbles, uncertain if she’s putting it out right and Harry runs his fingers through his curls gripping at the roots and groans in annoyance, properly vexed.

“Firstly muffy. Virginity isn’t a thing. It’s a term made by egoistic men like that prick of a guy, secondly did he make you cum?” His voice tones down gentle and caring. He lays her down and settles her head on the pillow and she's still fisting his shirt in her hands.

He grimaces when she shakes her head, her eyes owlish and glossy pointing down, “Everything was so dry that I wasn’t able to enjoy it ...” She winces remembering it and Harry cradles her face cooing delicately, “Oh Bambi. It was, ‘cos ye' weren’t aroused enough.” But, she’s now. With Harry ontop of her and being all warm and lovey and handling her as if she’s fine china, she could feel gooey wetness sticked to her thighs.

For first time in her life. She feels relaxed and light headed talking about it.

So, she continues, “ .. and it was bit disgusting, he came all over my tummy ‘cos he didn’t have a condom.” At this he grumps, his nostrils flares and pinches the bridge of his nose to keep him sane, “What a cheap bastard!” She giggles at his outrage and he just gives a fluttery smile to her shaking his curls.

He pets the sheen on her cheek away and gazes her sincerely, “You shouldn’t trust everyone and anyone, pet. ‘S a cruel world out there.” The fact that if he’d have came inside her boils Harry’s blood -- she'd have gotten the worst thing happen to her.

He just feels so protective of her. If he’d be able to keep her safe under his shield to scare away bastards like that guy he gladly will.

“Now, hear me Bambi eyed. We never have unprotected sex with strangers and never let ‘em make y’feel bad fo' wantin’ t’be pleasured .. if two people consent fo' it then both ‘ve to fulfil eachother’s desire. Am I clear?” His tone gruff and firm. She suckles her lower lip inside her mouth and nods quickly.

Something about him commanding and lecturing her making a fire fuse in the pit of her tummy and it makes her salivate down a whimper, which sure didn’t go unnoticed by Harry’s side and his lips are quirking into vivacious grin.

He’s retreating back between her legs keeping a cautious gaze on her as if she’s a prey and one move will wither her away, “’N fo’ being rough. I like it rough. Y'could d'all of that with me without being embarrassed.” His smirk dripping with wickedness and Y/N’s head jerks back at the thought of him seeing forward to do more of this with her.

His palm lays sturdy and pressed to her belly, his puckering lips against the inside of her thigh parts around a silent groan when he feels her belly quiver.

He embeds slobbery kisses to where she’s clenched impatiently for him and he pushes his fingers against her clit and slides them up and down between her puffy folds, love creating soppy filthy noises and gives a kitten lap to her then attaches his lip to her smudgy hole murmuring against her breathily to make her feel the electricity till her core.

“Will love havin' ye'tiny fingers pullin' at me hair with a swimy brain. Buckin'y hips into my mouth begging me to ruin yer cunt with my tongue and ‘ave me dancin' on y'palm, extractin’ out glutinous grunty moans within me chest -- it’ll not be just moans, no! —- a viscous toe curlin' sound that’d rumble savagely in my throat a warning fo’ you to keep these gorgeous thighs open fo' me to eat you out as I wish and my large hands will belt ‘round y'waist digging my nails into your dimples when you'll scratch my back ‘n it’ll leave angry marks behind — a reminder fo’ you how much I fuckin' loved you being horny as the deepest burnin' of hells.” She’s panting and sobbing for a cusp of breath manoeuvring her fingers in the tufts of his silky mess of curls and tugs at it and shoves her cunt, grinding against his chin. The softness of his cheeks glittering her bones and she’s falling wider apart from him, and he grins.

Noses at her throbbing clit and sucks it in her mouth and massages her pussy with her own lubrication and how much he picks it on his tongue she’s ready to give him more and he’s moaning with fierce ruby lips wrapping around her fluttering pussy folds, moving his mouth every where and it elicits a choppy whine from her.

“Fuck. Look at'y ... s'innocent but such a dirty little girl fo' me.” He dips his fingers merely into her and swipes up a cardinal push against her spongey wall and treats it back.

It’s too much for, Y/N. Everything. His wanton words better than those audios, his warm tongue on her and the strength of his arms holding her down, his flushed out cheeks and the teasing and teetering he's doing to give her an orgasm that sprays cosmic stars into her fogginess and she doesn’t even know that cloy moans of, “yes.yes.yes.” are dripping from her and he’s boring his face back into her when he latches away from her sweet pussy with the help of his elbow.

“I want you to say it.” There’s pause in the string of her racing heart and her brows hitches in confusion, though he doesn’t give her enough time and moves her pussylips apart letting his nails graze at them gently.

She’s squealing in surprise and jolting up with exhilarating sensation when he spits at her and watches it trickle down her bum, thick and honeyed with lust-fond eyes.

She’s erupting into startled moans when he grunts spitting again and makes her little cunt the messiest thing, “Say it. Say that yer dirty little —-,” She cuts him with a sharp and whiny yawp and plunges her nails into his shoulder making him hiss through his teeth.

“I’m a dirty little girl, f'you. Just you. Just you. Just you ....” Her voice tones down into coy whispers stuffed to the pillow as her body anchors stintingly from her bed and Harry’s hand slides from her torso down her ass and gropes at it keeping her coupled to his mouth as she coats his chin and his lips and his cheeks with her cum and his own spit and he’s murmuring grittily, “Yeah moppet. Mhmp. Come in me mouth. Fill it all, such a good girl.” He nips and tucks at her making her satiate through her high and places a kiss to her clit for the last time when she thrashes from sensitiveness before moving away.

“Sensitive lil thing ye'r.” He murmurs rubbing her thighs to coax her down and feels goosebumps prick on her skin, glances up and finds her a beautiful colour of pink and peach and her hair nested as a halo on the pillow.

She’s just so beautiful in many ways, it aches his heart.

He’s flopping to her side and poking her cheek earning a tick of ravenous smile and he watches as her irises moves under her closed lids.

“That was ... hmm.” She hums sluggishly knuckling at her eyes and Harry muses out a chuckle, before she could come up with a dentist joke he's cracking it himself sensing her gears working in that tiny head of hers, “Very filling?” That makes her hide her face into his neck and giggle.

“Yeah. Could say that.” She rests her chin on his shoulder and poses her brows questioningly when his stuffy pocket pokes at her thigh, “What’s that?” He didn’t realise he was too swamped in admiring the specks of her hazelness pouring with sunlight and he’s blinking back to re-start himself.

“Oh! This ..?” He’s taking out it slowly and she’s whining and shaking him to hurry up and he’s giggling at how impatient she could get when curious.

She holds it infront of her and it’s a cute green beanie with a little gucci embroidered at where it gets folded and her smile dejects when Harry speaks, “One of my colleagues gifted me this as a birthday present.” Why didn’t she thought about gifting him this for his birthday? Not that she has money for Gucci but they've been celebrating for three years and not once she didn’t get an idea that he wears beanies alot and mighty would like it?

Anyway, it’s far better than the painting of snowy and a mason jar filled with candy wrappers having her appreciations and dentist jokes written to their backside she gifted him, Y/N pouts thinking how she could’ve get him something useful.

Harry doesn’t care about materialistic things. He says that you could buy them anytime and that money is just the murk of your palm, it goes away in one wash -- the little shows of affection always are by your side in hard times.

“Hey Muffy...” He's yawning nudging her side noticing how she zones out and away from him, “D'ya have some chamomile tea?” Her chin slips from her shoulder at the sudden rasp.

“What? Why?” She gazes him. His body slumpy and tired over her and his mouth ajar cutely, she scratches his scalp lightly and swears that he let out the softest purr.

“Was in the operation theatre fo' hours now, just came from there -- emergency case. It was bad.” He emphasizes it getting a lisp a bit and she sits up closer to him.

“What happened to the person? She asks hoping they’re okay and have any hopes for recovery.

He just fiddles away the beanie from her grip and covers her head with it folding and adjusting it over her ears, “Not tellin' ya ...” He murmurs rubbing his nose into her arm and sniffs her saccharine scent. He knows that she doesn’t take the stories from his workplace well and it keeps her awake at nights, then she’s visiting the patient herself and Harry have to drag her out of his hospital every damn time.

She cares too much. Even for strangers. She’s too kind for her own sake and Harry thinks sometimes being selfish should be the latter option.

He squints open his one eye feeling her gaze fixated on him and huffs a lil, his little stubborn bambi, she wouldn’t let it go, “Fine. They were comin' back from a party and were high maybe -- car crashed badly dentin' towards the passenger’s side ‘n totally dislocated her jaw, now y’promise me you aren’t gettin' too worrisome ‘bout her because she’s okay.” Saying this he's cuddling back into her and she smiles a bit petting his back.

“Whatever, you say Dr. Styles.” He didn’t even need a tranquilizing tea anymore. Her warmth and squishiness was more than enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

..

It’s an otiose Saturday morning. Harry and Y/N just gobbled down oatmeal she made (topped with kiwis, mangoes and strawberries Harry brought from market and threw the bag in her lap) it had too much of coconut and sugar layer than necessary, according to Harry.

While she cleaned the countertops Harry fed and kissed the crowns of each one of their cat, yet again they were left with nothing to do —- that's how Y/N ended up straddling his waist, his jaw fit in her palm and his eyes half-open funnily as she applies a liner at his lid with her pink tongue poked out in concentration.

“Stop movin’,” She snits out in a huff and the skirts of his lips alleviates up into a cheeky evil grin, his hands pawing at her hips and his intentionally dirty gaze flitters down where her nipples are perking from the flimsy shirt and almost presses to his throat, “How'm supposed to when y’tits are ready to lactate me mouth?” Blush creeps up at her cheeks at his overweening and she wanted to give out an “Oh.” Instead grips his baby curls and steadies him, squishing his cheek in doing so as if he’s her toy.

“You better shut up, or ‘m gonna shove my feet up that smug mouth of yours.” She grumps to her own self when her fingers begins to twitch feeling her ear fill with hotness, “And what makes y’think ‘m not into that?” He rockets his brows priggishly with a grin that just screams he’s about to have a upper hand in this banter of their.

“Harry you disgraceful, man!” She whines trying to pull his face upright – he’s doing it on purpose trying to push her buttons and his eyes widens in feign hurt, “’M a very holy man!” His one eye adorned with charcoal coloured liner making him look adorable.

He’s far from any of that. They both know it. He’s a nerd slut if Y/N could put into words correctly.

“Yeah. Holy piece of a shit.” She grumbles pressing her bent knee into his side and quips a happy “Tada!!” grabbing the little from beside him and almost shoves it in his face demanding him to look at himself.

Harry brings his lips together and whistles looking at himself, “My murals should be painted everywhere in the city,” Y/N rolls her eyes. Nibbling down a scoff at his narcissism desperate to jump out and points at herself with a shrug of shoulders -- silently trying to telepath with him.

“What?” He murmurs nonchalantly angling his face to have a better look at him.

“Where’s the praise for artist?”

“Why need't when y'know ‘m an art myself.” His rims shine shamelessly and he nips the flesh of his cheek to stifle down a bashful cackle at her retort.

“You’re being too bold for a person who combusts in his pants just by getting his back scratched.” She arches her brow pruriently at him and he shakes his head, brushing the belly of his nose with his knuckle and when he gazes back at her -- she knows that she’s fucked fucked.

“Says who. The dirty little girl who's sitting on her bestfriend’s cock in her panties and shirt that’s doin’ nothin' but makin'y nipples button out shamelessly.” He tuts carnally, sinking into the plush cushions and man-spreads himself so wide Y/N could feel him pressing between her folds. His smirk rottenly sinful and evil and Y/N's palm automatically jams against his torso with a weepy mewl forehead falling against his clavicles.

She wanted to argue that he’s clad in boxers too but all of her sanity went out of the window when he teasingly grinded their crotches together.

“Y'want t'be treated like a bunny, who loves to hop on dick and fucked till you’re just a soft mush -- don't ya?” His hoarse drawl makes her bob her head eagerly making him chuckle and she’s tightening her thick thighs around his waist, hiding her face into the dive of his nice warm smelling neck and keeps her lips sponged to his skin making him grip on her hips with brutal force.

She’s just so sweet to Harry. A hot pink puddle at his mere touch and all clingy to him, shrinking into him with shyness and all of this just stirs his cock angrily sensitive.

He’s always getting a stiffy thinking about her and her honeyed taste he got to lap on and he's always smelling one of his pillows that has her fragrance loaded on it, while cupping his balls and stroking his cock lazily and hard, with other.

Though his assertive words wavers into a whimperish groan when Y/N takes her face out and gazes him with doe-warm eyes, “I w'na make you feel good.” Harry throbs under her and fattens against his own belly and feels her soaking against his boxers.

“Y'do? ‘s okay —.” His chest heaves with ragged breathes from anticipation and yearn and he knows that taking care of himself would be a torture if she’d tell him a, “no.” But then he isn’t that of a prick and is awfully happy to get what he’s getting, their infinite proximity.

His head teeters back and his pelvis buckles up when she clutched the hem of his sweatshirt and uttered a poutsih, “please..” She’s nourishing a breath and gazing up at him with glossy chocolate eyes blabbering while swivelling herself slowly ontop of him, “You’re looking s' pretty and cato eyes -—.. and you’re stuffed against me s'good. I want –- I want to make y'feel amazing.” Harry’s choking a growlish moan and the urge to just throw her on couch and snug his large cock deep within her.

Her brows pinches together and she has him grabbed from shoulders while she looks between them, listening to his purry hisses and lewd moans, it makes her redden her lip –- she could see his bulbous sherbet coloured tip coated in his own arousal wrestling out of his boxers as the fabric bunches and loosens down with each stroke of her cunt against him.

“Y'want to make me feel, amazin'? Fuck. You’re devastatin' me love -- yeah, mhmph hump me prick moppet.” Her eyelids lust filled and she moans against his chin as he breathes out a euphoric smile and Y/N gains a new confidence pushing herself down on his cock harder and firmer and faster.

The fabric of his boxers tickling his wet slit and he’s smushing his cheek into her soft chest, hugging and murmuring nonsense against her when Y/N sneaks her hand down and fills her hands with his heavy cum loaded balls and Harry doesn’t know how she was able to press him under the pad of her pinky in a span of minute.

Because he’s begging all for her mercy.

He howls a whine when she sucks his earlobe wetly and grazes it to speak in the sweetest yet licentious seductiveness and Harry’s almost naked under her, “Jeez. Hmm. Yes, just like that –- Bambi. My Bambi. Makes me feel — oh fuck!” His knuckles white from where he's groping the cheek of her ass and guiding her where her mound nudges him more good and drafts him straight to heaven.

“Tell me, huh. Who’s the dirty one now?” She smirks squeezing his balls yanking the sweaty ringlets on the base of his neck and they’ve their bodies on eachother, their hands on eachother and Y/N had an audacity to compete.

He’s trashing his spine into a curve and pulling her back down on his dick. She squeals when his cock grazes her pantie line and slips up and down against her cushiony thigh slobbering it with his pre-come.

“Me, me! Fuck .. pet, ‘s me ...” His hand tightens around her ribs and his hand tightens around her ribs and he’s dragging her back and forth -- socked toes curling and teeth gnawing at the pudding of her cheek. His thighs quaking and his strong forearms brings her closer to his chest, as the pressure coils in his stomach and the gentle caress and guttural bite on the slop of his collarbone was enough to burst spurts of cum in his boxers and it quenches onto his tummy and to the inside of her thighs making a sloppy mess.

“Shit.” He mutters through a chuckle. His chin butted atop her head and she giggles moving away.

Her shirt ridden up, her panties bunched up into her ass-cheeks and Harry admires her with a celestial flush on his skin and she circles her fingers together.

She just rode his prick dry and looks like she did the most innocent thing in the world.

“’M g'na go clean myself.” Harry smiles at her squealing pitch and then realization dawns upon him, she’s talking about his jizz on her tickling her skin getting flustered and knackered feeling it. Though, it’s not only his jizz but her panties are drenched into her own salvation making it see through and her wet pussy on display.

He just gulps and nod, like an atta puppy.

..

Lavish green leaves rustles together, the soil of green-belt moist and watered recently, early morning sky swirls of blues and it’s beautiful it really is the weather isn’t too sunny – the silence in his car is comforting too and the rum of his breath makes her feel nostalgic.

But, she wanted to sleep her arse off on Sunday and do nothing and be proud of being idle whole day. Harry had different plans though –- he was jumping on her bed making her wobble on it in her sleepy state and dragged her to washroom how much she whined and fought with him.

“Oh. C’mon now, muffin .. it’ll be fun, Ni would be there too.” He tries to reason her and she just brings her knees up into her and closes her eyes, muttering in monotone.

“Nothing’s fun about golfing, Harry.” It’s little get together of his colleagues and the doctors from his hospital and Harry thought he'd die from boredom if he wouldn’t bring her with him, he isn’t one bit of interested into old men talking about how their third wife drools over them – he isn’t very fond of lies.

“Not even me? How could y’say no to me?” He gasps dramatically. Scrunched his nose and twitches his lips in fake offend.

She opens her eyes for a moment and stares at him, “Just like that,” Pinches his elbow and shrugs nonchalantly.

“Harry, no.”

“Yeah, Whatever.” He rolls his lips between his fingers and takes a turn and when they reach he's putting sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, unfolding her arms that are wrapped around herself and nudges her to be less grumpy.

“’Ve a reputation yeah .. be less frumpy.” She pokes her tongue out and Harry lurches his hand forward scaring her that he'd grab it.

“Those dilfs already kisses the tips of my shoes.” She hops out of the car and clasps her hands atop of her head stretches out and yawns out loudly.

Harry’s head perks up alarmingly at that from the boot of his car and he swings the golfing kit on his shoulder and rolls his eyes from under his sunnies, pushing her forward with a small hand on her back.

“Yeah, more like grandpas.” The thought just makes him feel icky and utterly gross – imagining those old doctors —- no he completely wants to brain wash himself.

“Bet, their willies would need heavy assistance —-,” He’s grinning abrasively down at her and she winced swatting his chest, “Harry!” She’s wiggling out of his hold and striding towards where Niall is waving them in utter excitement.

Harry pouts and stomps behind her, calling out for her to slow down and scowls when a grin makes a way at her face as Niall hugs her.

Niall showed her his little nips and tricks. While Harry looked at them with needy eyes from far stuck between the bunch of boring doctors and dentists and his lips visibly downturns when Niall trips and Y/N’s falling on her bum, clutching onto her side with a belly aching laugh.

Ni helps her stand back and it was when a women in pink sports short and Nike tee trudged towards them and Harry at the same moment and Y/N just stares with confusion as they hug and she’s smiling up at him brightly.

“Sorry. I lost the time check.” Harry’s parting away with a shrug, “Not tha' somethin’ special occurred.” and Y/N’s doe-curious eyes remains fixed on them and he's introducing the unknown women to her and Niall’s poking her side to revive her back to mighty world.

“Muffy? She’s one of my colleagues, Holly.” Y/N startled a bit then gives out a nervous smile forwarding her hand to shake it with her and Holly’s pony flails comically from the action.

Soon, she’s turning her attention back towards Harry and smiling up at him questioningly, “Did you rest well after leaving the hospital on Friday?” Y/N just fumbles with Harry’s rings on her knuckles -- not sure if she should go back to golfing with Niall or stay to take part in little conversation because Niall is growing very antsy.

“Yeah. I did, actually .... very well if y'ask so,” Harry's shimmering gaze lurks back on Y/N and she internally groans when he smirks remembering the event and she wants to glare him from the side of her eye.

She’s stepping aside quickly when Holly passes by them and towards the table full of breakfast and beverages.

She pours two cups of coffee and adds two teaspoon of sugar, handing one to Harry and Y/N wants to retort that he doesn’t like coffee and hell not that amount of sugar.

“And Y/N what would y'like coffee, tea?” Holly asks her and Y/N just chuckles gingerly when Harry looks ike he's about to gag when he takes the first sip.

“I don’t drink coffee.” Holly looks like she just saw the end of the world and Y/N holds back from rolling her eyes at her, she's giving her an aura that she doesn’t like Y/N even a bit.

“No? Why?”

“Guess I never needed that much caffeine, my job doesn’t require staying up late and all that ...” Holly sips on her coffee and leans against a chair raising a her brow at her and then asks.

Her style being uptight and arrogant just not sitting right with, Y/N.

“What is your profession?” This ferals Y/N into her thinking pot, is that even a profession? She doesn’t really know and she’s in her own headspace when Harry’s soft eyes worms back to his bambi and his eyes glints with ever proud and his smile toothy and bunny as he puts the cup aside speaking with a hint of fond.

“She’s an artist. A very talented one.” Holly arches her brow at him and hums then looks back at her -- as if she didn’t heard him right.

“So, you make art for living?”

“I do it beacuse I like doing it, just like you.” Y/N chips up and Harry just thinks his admiration grows terribly more every day for her -- because of the passion about anything she holds in that big heart of hers, the way her cheeks rubies up and brows sets into concentration.

That shuts Holly and her train of personal irritating questions.

“Hey! We aren’t here fo' some princess tea party -- can we please, go back to golfing!?” Niall finally bursts like a balloon from annoyance and Y/N's giggling and hooking her arm into his elbow, “You’re sucha cry baby.” She coos and tries to walk him back to pitch but then her gait stutters when Holly asks Harry in an expectant tone.

“Did you like my present?” Why does it layers her chest with mucky awful feeling, her stomach itself tottering and she just huffs thinking how that present sits in her drawer and she’s the one that wears it instead of Harry.

“Oh, I liked it, thank you.” Fucking liar. Y/N just shakes her head and chuckles ironically because he forgot about it the moment he gave it to her.

Y/N’s toes itches with an impulse to expose Harry infront of her.

Where’s that feisty Harry ready to bite anyone expect her and his little group of friends? What did this job do to him? Oh my goodness! Why Y/N is hating all of this so much, why why why!?

Y/N's completely being an over dramatic (she knows that) but she couldn’t help but be bitter about this Holly “oh I could woo Harry just by giving him some beanies from an overly expensive brand.” Gahk! Not in a millennia.

“’Kay, pet now you make yer goal.” Niall shouts squinting to get rid of sunlight in his eyes and Y/N was so engulfed in thinking of how the slight interest and undivided attention of Harry towards Holly makes her feel woozy and something that’s indescribable, until now. That’s when someone came behind her bended figure she – almost making her squeal but he’s shushing her sweetly -- the corner of his lips pressing to the side of her hairline and he takes in her fresh lilies scent.

Two soft beautiful boned structure hands comes raking from her shoulders down her wrists, jostling her almost as he wraps his hands around her sweaty ones and brings the golf club back in air.

“Let's fill those holes together,” His smooth rasp prickles the hair on her body in a most stinging way and she's subsiding down a blush, frowning and unfrowning to concentrate back on playing -- but it’s a fucking torture when his bulging member prominent from his tight little shorts lines up against her bum teasingly.

He was very aware of the big problem that stood between them and she’s turning with his arms still on either side of her -- doing a little knocking on his chest to gain his attention.

“You’ve —-... umm ..” She stammers. Cheeks peachy and her smile nervous. Harry hums in dither gazing down at her softly and that flusters her to living heavens.

Then his eyes follows where she’s staring in curiosity and gentleness and as if she’s ready to take him in her mouth right then and there.

He’s got a stiffy and that in public!

“Oh shit. Sorry, I wasn’t awa —-,” He's creating a little distance between them but she’s quick to grab the hem of his shirt and pulling him closer back to her, “No. No. ‘s okay. I could ‐—.. I could help you ....,” She mutters in a tizz with a hitchy breath and Harry’s dimples indents, cushy smile dancing on his lips and his pinky’s swiping the loose tresses behind her ear.

“If you want to...” She doesn’t know what’s making her more anxious the fact he'll brush her off or that he'll accept her help, but this latter option fills her insides with gales of mushiness and it makes her unsettle her footing.

“I’d love that.” He grins and she’s smiling up at him and Harry screams internally like a teenager at how she manages to be so tender and silken like a gorgeous doll in the most filthiest situations.

He keeps her infront of him to hide the potential tent in his shorts that appeared from no-where, he's being sly and clearly knows that where it came from --- from gawking her peach ass till it wasn’t printed in his mind and he didn’t even know when he was drooling at the thought of squishing her asscheeks and rolling his thumb against her puckering hole and imagining her cute lil whines for him to bore down his thumb into her till she feels his lion ring against her flesh, throwing her hips at him more —- shut up!

Though when the group of men stops them with their evil gazes on his little bambi and they’re smirking up at Harry in mischievousness, “Where you sneakin' Y/N too?” They hollered and Harry had to ball his hand on her hips and bite back from rolling his eyes sharply and rudely,

Because who the fuck they’re to ask? He could take her anywhere and why they do act like they fucking know Y/N from summat eternity, that makes him want to snap at these snobs and warn them not to ever take a step near her.

Ofcourse, he’s very well aware that their intentions towards his sweet bestfriend are evil and filthy -- he wants to punch each one of them at that.

“Just to show ‘er the lake behind,” He's giving them a tight lipped smile and leaving them baffled without giving them more to talk and Y/N giggles at his huffy-ness and pets his knuckles feeling his skin beginning to fume and turn hot against her neck.

Moments later, he's sitting on the bench of empty steam room carmine lips parted and plush are mooched to Y/N's upper belly, his long arms tipsy around her thighs and hair floppy caramel and his palm splays on the side of her waist under her shirt coveting his nails lightly into her pudgy skin – as her soft hand stays dipped into his shorts and she strokes him in gradual pace.

He’s jerking back hitting his head against the vertical mirror that covers the whole wall when she presses her thumb into his palpating tip of cock to coax out his white stickiness and uses it to coat and lube his dick and caress it, “’S’okay c’mere, honey. You’re okay.” She coos cupping the nape of his neck and brings him back to let him bury his face into her pulpy body and kisses his hair, sliding her hand under his jaw to soothe him.

Harry moans uncontrollably and tries to muffle them with choked sobs upon hearing her go all soft on him and he thinks, “honey” Is his new favourite word from now on coming from her mouth and he wants to be called honey from her all the time.

She doesn’t know where the confidence of sweet talking to him came from but the menace for Holly and her being overly sugary with him, just poked her in weird place and she wants to claim where he belongs.

To her.

Always her.

“Bet, your big cock was all achy and weepy for my attention.” She pouts slopping all the way down to his chubby shaft and tightens her grip jerking him speedily. Harry bobs his head vigorously and eagerly hugging her ever close and babbles wetly so she scratches his scalp and almost raises her hips into him when his happy and satisfied mewls fuses into her ears.

“Been —-.. been, fuck!” He gasps bolting shut his eyes when she widened her slick palm down and massaged his heavy taut balls – shaking them playfully with a giggle bitten down her throat, “Been thinkin' ‘bout you whole lot – yer such a doll.” He sighs and she sponges a peck to the side of his forehead.

“Yeah?” Her eyes glints with adore and meekness for him and when he nods with euphoric slipped eyes and rosy cheeks snuggling himself into her she mighty cried a lil.

“G’na cum for me? In my hand? Been treating you so good, honey. Love your cock –- always oozy and slick for me and your moans —- can y'moan fo' me? Show them on whose pinky you’re wrapped on.” She’s breathless but the tenderness and fondness in her voice never fades and Harry’s almost tomato grinding his hips on the bench fucking himself into her palm and brags his teeth together hissing through it.

“G'na cum. G’na cum fo'y and —- oh!” Guttural heavy loud moans are eliciting down his tongue and he’s groaning and whimpering and thrashing under Y/N shooting his gloopy spunk inside her palm and she doesn’t stop, coating his whole eternity with his own cum and digs out some more droplets from his tummy to soak into the pride that she’s the reason he’s this fucked up and ravenous and shaking under her.

She’s throwing her legs on either side of his thighs next and he’s gazing at her intensely from under his thick lashes with lovingness all slumped against the mirror and she’s ducking down to stitch her nose up against his nose and giving him an eskimo kiss and Harry’s lips accommodating back for a nice breather are tingling to lean in and place them on hers in a dotting heart swarming kiss but a knock's interrupting them and she’s quipping back a squeal and jumping on her toes.

Guess she'd just clean her fingers by licking them since there’s no water.

..

Y/N was painting one of her commission works and for her coming exhibition when Truggers came meowing at her and scraping onto floor, “What d'you want bub?” She asks wiping her fingers on the rag and puts the brush into water cup.

She follows Truggers to their bassinet and almost slips straining her ankle from rushing panicked towards Tum who's jerking in his sleeping position.

She hawks in shock, fear and trembling horror. Her ears deafening. She’s shouting at him and shaking him with tears in her eyes, “Tums? Tummies? Baby!! Wake up!” She cries but the cat doesn’t respond.

“No. No. No!!” She shakes her head sobbing loudly bringing her knees up to her chest and holds her head in her hand not knowing what to do, she calls Rori and she doesn’t even know how much time passed and Rori's hugging her and comforting her taking other kittens to room so they don’t see Tums.

“Call Harry! Call him, please, please, please .... Rori ....” She sobs feeble and painful into Rori's neck and she shushes Y/N. She really tries to but she knows that only Harry could manage to calm her down and she rings him many many times but he doesn’t pick up.

“Harry! I’ve been calling you for ages for fuck’s sake where are you?” So, when he's excusing himself telling that he was having lunch and Holly’s voice is booming through Rori's phone Y/N’s heart drops and shatters into gazillion pieces.

She may not be in right mind, but she’s seriously hurt because Harry never in million years ignore her calls.

Guess having lunch was far important than her or her calls.

It just makes her cry more.

“Wait. What’s happening?” Goosebumps layers on his skin when he hears Y/N crying and he walks away without telling Holly he’s heading out.

“Harry ... Tums, he died in his sleep.” Harry halts in his tracks. Staring at the parking sign blankly and his eyes fills with tears and his breath shudders as he tries to speak, “’M coming.”

..

Rori left and took Tums with her after tucking Y/N in bed and making sure she’s okay.

Her ears perks up when the door clicks softly accompanied by low sniffles and it pools more moisture in her eyes and the tears trick down her chin and onto pillow — because hearing him cry is just so agonising.

“Muffy ...” The mattress dips behind her and he’s scooching close to her planting his cheek against her shoulder.

His warmth melts her but she recoups wiping her eyes dry and wavers in a thorny voice, “Go away.” She distances herself from him and turns stiff.

“Moppet, please ...” He protests and she hampers herself from snapping at him.

“Go away, Harry. Leave!!” She's muffling her cries into pillow and when she faces him – Harry's chin wobbles because his muffy looks terrible and awfully sad and it’s breaking him weakly and perfectly.

“Why don’t y'go back to whatever you were doing with Holly!” She gasps moistly for a breather and Harry stands up, nose red and runny and eyes bloodshot.

“Jus’ say yer’ jealous.” He wants to be fierce with her about what she said but his voice barely comes out without being shaky and his heart is full of sorrow.

“And if I say I’m, then what?” She’s pathetically hiccupping (continuously) so much her neck hurts and she has never sound so uncertain and pleading and expectant to know if he might love her?

That if there’s something more between them than just providing eachother pleasure and being eachother’s missing half when they were lonely.

More, than just two bestfriends being eachother’s back of the hand.

He doesn’t respond and she shouts for him to stop and answer her and throws a cushion towards him, but he just leaves her to it.

Harry’s just worried she isn’t ready to take either of his confessions well.

..

Snowy sits in her lap. Max and Luna (Rori's girlfriend) are wrestling onto the mattress they took from Harry's bed and laid on the floor, (which he'd grump about when he'll be too pissy to move it back in the late night).

He’s been cranky and acting proper ratty with anyone and everyone he comes to interact with since that day.

He felt like his world turned upside down because now everything’s just against him, his milk gets soggy every morning and all of his socks and hoodies are at his little thief's home and snowy takes revenge from him for hurting Y/N by pissing on his shoes everytime he’s about to leave.

Cherry on creamy top!

He just couldn’t stop thinking about his bambi and might have chewed his fourty years old assistant ears with his rambling of Y/N and his endearment for her and unfortunately he just ficked up bad.

“’M so hungry. If Ni will cheat another round on me, I’ll be munching on his toes!!” Y/N exclaims huffing out and kicking Niall in shin as they were playing Mario cart and he’s been winning for an hour just by his cheating tricks.

They all got together after many days at Harry’s flat while he was at the duty and he promised them that he’d bring pizzas with him and now it’s almost 12 and they’re waiting and waiting in anticipation for him to arrive.

When the door knob jiggles everyone’s jumping up and scrambling closer to the door because they all are that hungry and Harry’s hands are piled with pizza boxes, soon their hungry excited expressions are dulling into annoyance and viscid displeasure when Holly peeks from behind Harry.

Still all of them manage to plant fake smiles and everyone’s greeting her.

“What took you guys s'long?” Y/N speaks lowly through a forced smile the one that doesn’t reaches her eyes and doesn’t make them appear as they are pools of earthly soil, “Oh .. we just stopped to buy some muffins -- Harry told me how much you like them, Bambi.” Oh fuck. There goes the pressure cooker blasting and rattling through each and every wall of this room and the tension thickens around and Luna's coughing and everyone is just treading back to their spots awkwardly and with disappointed sorry sighs for Holly because if before Y/N didn’t hold a grudge against Holly now she’d.

Because, for fuck’s sake!!! Nobody, calls her that except Harry!

It was their own intimate little sweet love name that Harry calls her and her only.

Not even their friends.

Not even Niall.

Just him.

Him.

Him.

And.

Him.

Now, she just came from out of the fucking blue and popped their bubble of intimacy and Y/N feels like one of those anime characters where they've a frown hanging on their head larger than their size and there’s fire enveloping them before she bursts out in rage and scream at Holly and Harry too.

She sighs. She’s far better than creating a scene and gladly accepts the box of muffins from Holly whose smile is overly sugar coated and this is what Harry says when he tells her he doesn’t like sugar in much amount – it’s irksome, Y/N’s talking about humans specifically.

“’s not even my favourites.” She mumbles staring at the vanilla strawberry muffins and Holly just shrugs and Harry gets tensed keeping his voice hushed while Rori and Him unboxes the pizzas in the kitchen, “Just thought a change would be good.” Y/N’s throat clogs up just at that. She finds it hard to even gulp down the piercing emotions piling up there.

Y/N just hates changes.

Holly wants to change everything about Harry and his surroundings, even this dinky flat he lives in —- he’s a dentist why’d he live here?

Holly tries not to grimace.

“You know Y/N hates changes, Harry I know that you guys might not be serious but we all are well aware that you too —-- fuck, Harry! Why are you fucking it up!” Rori whisper yells at him as they throw the empty boxes frantically and hurriedly to go back to living room and handle the situation before it gets out of hand.

“Ontop of that. Why did ya bring, Holly with you!? She isn’t ... well she isn’t much par to any of our likings.” Harry just runs his hands through his curls and he knows that it’s afflicting Y/N, his baby muffy who wouldn’t even see him in eye since that incident and he really wishes that all of this ends soon.

“What d'I do!? she’s my staff head and I’ve to play nice to her.” He squeaks out in a bit panic and he’s exhausted and tired and really running out of his Bambi's cuddles but she wouldn’t even let him set foot in her flat.

Even though how much he argued that, “Remember y’said this’s our one big home? Well I could be in me home whenever I want.”

Though when they're out with bright smiles and announcing that food is here, acting as if him and Rori didn’t just had an ASMR argument in kitchen.

Harry’s heart. The each chamber of his heart got cut up into pieces and fell somewhere in his stomach when he hands the plate to Y/N and she takes it without meeting his eyes, starving him off her sweet butterflies wooshing smile and tries to avoid from getting any physical contact between their fingertips and cuddles back into Ni's side as if she’s utterly cold.

She’s jealous and hurt and furious that Harry has mighty revealed their intimate nitty gritty details to Holly.

All of that aside. She’s very sad and lost and feels lonely all over again because she has no-idea that what are they, where they stand out of their bestfriends bubble and if whatever happened between them was fever dream?

“What happened, pet? Not hungry? Y'were ‘bout to munch us alive seconds ago.” Niall chuckles gingerly and nudges her as she just hovered her pizza on her plate and never brought it to her mouth.

Harry wipes his hand on his jeans listening that and Holly’s side eyeing him gauging for his reaction and her face hitches up into displeasure when he stands up and strides towards Y/N in two long steps.

“D'ya want another flavour? Is it cold? We could order somethin' else if you want to ....” His voice caring and antsy and he’s contemplating whether to sit beside her and coax her to eat but she’s chewing onto it and shrugging, speaking with a mouth full and yet again never sparing him a single glance.

“No, ‘m good.”

Holly judges Y/N’s battiness and locks up the urge to roll her eyes at this girl who Harry’s so whipped for -- she could ramp him under her feet (which Y/N would never – Holly’s just a mean ass who likes to think negatively about everyone) and he'd still beg her to do it all over again.

Holly just loves to be a victim in situations where she doesn’t even have a role, but still tries to fit in as a victim.

The truth is. She wants Harry bad. And, it’s all written clear on her face.

Their hang out didn’t take the route they planned for it to be and Y/N was heading out early conscious of Harry’s gaze on her all the time when Rori yelled enthusiastically with a bright proud grin, “Everyone's invited to Y/N's painting exhibition on Sunday, aren’t we Y/N!?”

Harry’s head snaps towards each of his friends like a lost puppy and when all of them are smiling and nodding their heads in agreement his eyes just brawls out and he feels like crying and throwing a tantrum because she didn’t tell him about it! and even if not, he didn’t got a chance to be the first one to tell her how proud he’s of her.

Rori winces when Harry rushes behind Y/N and the door's shutting behind leaving them in awkward silence again.

“You didn’t care t’tell me? ‘s such a big mo' fo'y.” He scowls. Folding his arms infront of his chest and Y/N grumbles stomping her feet onto floor.

“You were too busy —-..”

He knows what’s about to come next. The taunt and fight and something heartbreaking that’d slip from their tongues and hurt them brutally and part them away, “Baby.” He’s sighing rubbing the knot on his forehead and him calling her baby was enough to mush her into a candy floss.

“Yell at me. Punch me. Brake me nose. D'ye thing but pleaseee don’t gimme a silent treatment ...,” His eyes glossy and Y/N kinda feels remorseful and she might not give into him that easily but she isn’t to be blamed because she’s just so putty in his embrace and he could win her heart all over again as many times he wishes.

Though when she’s speaking to him after long period of four days and nine hours and cursing him out he’s still very thankful and gleeful grinning and scooping her up in his arms, “You’re a downright asshole you know that? One of our baby cat died and you were too busy havin' lunch with that, witch.” She isn’t hiding her hatred for Holly anymore and Harry cackles infuriatingly loud and brushes his cheek against her neck.

“’M sorry. Not g'na do tha' evea' again swear on me life.” He mumbles coherently.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He’s hooking their pinkies together and kissing them to seal the affirmation.

..

Harry loves BDSM. Something he explored upon lurking around a sex club when he was right about to turn eighteen, of which oh so Y/N's savvy about from all those nights where she could be able to hear guys and girls howling like they got fucking murdered even sitting in the farthest cubby of her own home.

She'd not argue to him about that because of her shyness and second the music that she used to blast through speakers while painting, so they were equal.

He was quite peculiarly never interested in having romantic relationships with people -- he was just interested in what’s between their legs and sometimes their mouth.

But with Y/N. With Y/N he wants to make love to her. Lit sweet warm scenting candles that’d sheen their skins with ardour and have vases filled with flowers and cook her a dish she likes – then they share a glass of wine (optional) if they want to remember it all.

He wants to have every nice and warm thing with her, things he never got to experience.

He wants to love.

To love her.

He never really exposed himself to words like amity, adoration and intimacy. Thinks that those words are too big for his heart which’s too compact for someone to build a home in.

He hated certain stuff. On purpose. Like scrabble when his father and his friends made fun of him for liking scrabble and he kicked that shit so hard it tensiled into space — or he thinks so because he never saw it laying on his childhood floor ever after that.

Then again, Y/N came into his life and brought his scrabble back (teased him that she stole it from some kid that lives downfloor) they play whenever they could and ends up fighting everytime because, zzz isn’t a word but Harry claims it is for people who snores like they're gonna choke into their pillow next moment.

He hated interacting with people. Don’t even have an idea how he got these bunch of maniacs as his friends and then Y/N, he just thinks she’s made specially for him only carved from the cream of tenderness, beauty of love and sent upon to him like an Angel.

Harry hates sugar. But, yet again he likes no scratch that -- he loves Y/N so it doesn’t even matter.

At the moment when he’s crowded by gushing and whispering and laughing people. Praising and chatting and loving on his Bambi —- he feels like the word hate never existed in his life because all he could feel his heart is floating in copious amount of love for his Bambi as he stands in the corner letting his eyes admire her in affection.

He takes a sip of white wine from his glass and hisses when plays with his earlobe out of instinct and ends up prodding himself from where he pierced his ear two hours ago.

A smile so tiny but full of elation and lilac-ness twirls on his relaxed face upon reminiscing it – his eyes falling at her trousers and he gives himself an imaginary pat on back.

“You’re gonna repay me by ironing my trousers.” She told him standing between his parted legs and he scooted closer to the edge of counter and grabbed her teeny hands compared to his's and puts them over his thick thighs, “Whateva' y'say ma'am. ‘course now ye’re ‘bout to become a sexy artist with her own gallery ‘n all tha’.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes dabbing the cotton ball with alcohol and swapped his soft earlobe with it.

“’S not mine.” She murmurs and Harry woven his fingers with her's and tugged her forward. Lips brushing her temple and he shrugged, speaking, there’s nothing for her to be insecure about, if no one's proud of her, he is, he always gonna be, “Does it matter? Those paintings are yours. That room will be filled with your talent – ye're g'na own one soon, mark me words.” His grip tightened when she rubs her hand at his chest to warn him beforehand and he feigned that he’s scared and horrified to make her anxious about it.

“You’re sick in head you know that?” She mumbles grounding down the shakiness of her wrist as she poked the needle through his earlobe and his voice just did a lil loopy-loop as he spoke, “Yeah ... many patients tell me when I don’t give ‘em enough anaesthetic and rip their teeth out.” She blinked up at him with wide eyes and smacked him when he just slumped down against the mirror if nothing happened, his rims floaty and blown out.

Sometimes he jokes too seriously it startles, Y/N.

“You could say an ouch, atleast. Big man.” She giggled taking the needle out and puts a black cross earning after cleaning his brand new piercing, “Ouchhh!” He moaned out dramatically, fingers gliding down his skin under his eyes to reveal pink flesh and blue veins and his eyeballs.

“You’re an ass! Now go iron my trousers D’ya want me to go bottomless?” She chortled out loudly and her laugh boomed through the small washroom when Harry’s hand spanked her bum playfully, “Perhaps tha’ is what I’d never want in any case – even if I’ve to showcase me bum to everyone.”

“Harry?” She’s gazing up at him with deer eyes and tugging at his blazer to gain his attention, “Everyone’s gone?” He looks behind to get the sight of their friends laughing and chatting.

“Yeah.” Harry’s heart tweaks upon hearing her exhausted and sluggishly soft voice. She giggles into his cheek when he slings his arm around her shoulder and runs his nose up and down her head walking towards their equally tipsy friends.

“Everyone lets bunch up to give, Muffy a cuddle.” Harry drawls out. His warm breath tickling her neck and everyone just roars out gathering around them and giving them a big bear hug and Y/N's eyes turns glossier because she’s feel so loved and cared.

Just because of Harry.

When they see off their friends, Y/N isn’t rushing back to her agency’s manager to ask how much paintings she sold instead she’s snuggling into Harry’s embrace and let’s him escort them out and into the cool wind.

“You really deserve chocolate muffins, don’t ya, pet?” His chin doubles as he tries to take a look at her satisfied and relaxed face as they trod on the side of road like two penguins providing heat to eachother.

They’ve drunk quite a nice amount of bevvies. Enough that mighty would make them forget the events that are happening now and that’s nice because they could be embarrassing and cringey with having to think about it later.

“No.” Harry grabs her hand that was about to push the door of the lil bakery and she’a huffing up at him and swatting his hand away with a loud thwack, “’M an independent woman, H.” He just slides her hand away -- retorting with a smile, “And’m a gentleman.”

She squints up at him with scrunched up pouty lips and he’s mimicking her squinting her square in the eye. The clock ticks by and they break into a hand wrestling and he’s squeaking out childishly when she pinches his wrist but he’s coming back with scissor fingers demanding her to do a “stone, papers, scissors.” Fight with him.

When he’s wiggling his fingers in fire gesture she’s groaning out and throwing her arms in air, “Fire beats everything!!” He yells duckishly and spins around doing a little dance.

“Fine.” She grumps folding her arms around her torso and he’s ducking down to smooch annoying kisses to her cheeks and all over face.

Harry’s forearms remains roped around her waist and his chin rests ontop of her head, her back stays pressed to his taught warm chest whole time. Every two minutes or so she raises the muffin she’s eating to his lips and he’s taking a chunky bite out of it as they trod their way back home.

“Dun, dun dun dunnnn, do do ...” She giggles when he sways them. His chest rumbling with his deep drunk octave and she cups his cheek.

“What you singing, honey?” He just giggles clinging to her and hides his face into her neck – murmurs then takes himself out of her fragrance and shouts into the air.

“The pink panther’s song!!” She woofs out a laugh at that and he shoves his face into his palm, wheezing out cutely, “I'know y'laughin' ‘cos ‘m sayin' stupidddd things.....,”

The bunny vociferous laughs that emits from their bellies, tumbles them to the ground and the moment they look towards eachother they burst into more giggles.

Y/N scrambles towards where he’s clutching his side and rolls to face her and she crawls up his chest.

It feels good to waste time on the footpath when their hold on eachother’s this soft, warm and meaningful and full of love.

Their cheeks coral, their grins achy and their eyes gleamy ---- hands wandering and comforting eachother, cuddly and sottish and cosy laying right outside their the homes building.

He hugs her closer to him. She snuggles herself into him and worms into a touch starved shrimp and the words are on the tip of his tongue, they’ve been shown in his sentiments with zeal and passion in past and now they’re bouncing in his chest.

Though, he gulps them back.

He really couldn’t.

“I love you,” It flows away in the wind but she catches onto it and flies with it and pushes herself up on his chest blinking in perplexed rapture.

He’s breathing it out again. This time maybe slurry from inebriation but clear and audible, “oh my god baby .... I love you s'fuckin’ much.” He cradles her face in his palms and slides his forehead against hers.

“You love me?” She whispers and he giggles at her bewildered expression and bobs his head, “That’s what ‘m sayin' pet.”

She knows that she loves him too. More than anybody. Every inch of her body soaks into the word love for him.

She pauses for a moment, “How — but, I mean –- What did I do?” He just shrugs, “Dunno.” His dimples foaming deep and pretty.

“I just think we would be a good us,” At that her head perks up kitten like and she moulds her palms around his either side of neck as if he’s her warm chocolate cuppa, she smiles slowly, “We'd be a wonderful us.” Her gaze glitters on his wine moisturized pink lips and she gives him an eskimo kiss.

“Gimme a kiss then,” She demands pursuing her lips adorably but he shakes his puff of curls and pushes her face back gently, “No!” Her brows pinches together at that and she pokes his dimple pouting sadly.

“But, why?”

“I don’t wanna forget our first kiss.” He whines and paws at her hips to bring her back closer to him and she giggles muttering a silly under her breath and tries to tempt him.

“Kiss me, in this way ... we could have our firsts twice!” He gives into her mischievous offer and sighs cradling her face in his hold and murmurs against the corners of her lips, “Only ‘cos you’re cute and wouldn’t stop peskin'.” She’s grinning and pulling him with her hands and smashing her petal lips against his's, their eyelids springs close and he’s squishing her chasing to deepen the kiss and when she's parting away he’s rushing to peck her lips right back to kiss her more.

“I could really cry just by kissin' you, moppet.” He licks the spots of chocolate from her chubby bottom lip and bites it and she’s melting her mouth again over him, kissing him delicately and sweetly having a certain desire and yearn to just star into one soul that balms there tummies.

“W’na kiss you forever.”

Harry never believed into forevers.

Then Y/N wrapped him in her oh so Y/N-ish blanket and now he wants everything with her for, forever.

“Oh. Hush baby. You’re gonna gimme a tooth ache.”

..

Y/N regrets saying that. Because she’s waking up with a headache, blurry vision and churning stomach ontop of every pain the ache in her tooth came to bite her in ass and she’s hissing grabbing her cheek to soothe it down.

“Fuck my —- damn hell ...” She mutters when even the slightest of air in her mouth stings her tooth like a bitch and it dollops tears on the corners of her eyes because she has never gone through a toothache before.

She’s bargaining in Harry’s flat and into his room and he’s properly wafted, face smashed into his elbow as he wheezes through his parted mouth. She’s shaking him gently because the shrivelling drive of pain is growing after every second.

“Harry!” He’s jolting up and snapping his head in every direction instantly his sleepy gaze melts on her (a sight he'd like to have every morning) but she looks rather rotten with a nest on her head and her last night’s clothes crumbled and when she's quipping an, “It hurts Harry ....” With teary eyes, He’s immediately scurrying closer to her and holding her -- confused at first.

“What's hurtin', pet?” He mumbles groggily and she sniffs, “My tooth –- fuck.”

He sighs knuckling at his eyes and kisses her hair throwing the duvet away, “Sit here yeah? ‘m g'na wash me hands real quick and check it, hmm?” He wipes the corner of her eyes and massages her shoulder -- then unfists her hands to make her release some tension and puts them on her knees.

He’s muttering a, “Good girl.” When she nods obediently and watches his back as he trudges inside the washroom.

Coming back with towel in his hands and throws it on the bed while sitting on his knees and adjusts her between them.

“Can y'open a bit mo' f'me, darling?” He asks gently caressing her hip to loosen her up. He already knows what's about to come next and he’s afraid she’s going to be very batty about the procedure, “Aaaaa.” She practically makes the noise trying to part her jaw as far as she could while Harry’s hand remains intact around it inspecting her mouth and she’s anxious that she has a morning breath but the memories of all those time she would practically drool on his cheeks while sleeping makes her feel less awful about it,

He chuckles tapping lightly on her upper moral, “Ow!” She swats his hand away when his action physically makes her whole body go through a pang.

When she looks up at him with ticked brows and huffy pout biting the flesh of her cheek between her two morals to just do something -- anything to get rid of the pain, Harry rubs the frown away with a grimace and brings her for a hug.

“’M s' sorry baby. But, looks like it’ll need a root canal.” If his bambi wouldn’t be in such pain he indeed would have lectured her and thrown away every sweetened thing in her jars out of the window.

“Can y'endure a lil pain and wait till my last appointment? So, I could take care of you afterwards.” He asks her lovingly and his reasoning makes butterflies erupt in Y/N’s belly and she almost almost forgot about her toothache but then it pangs again and she’s hugging him tighter mumbling into him, “Sure.”

He’s making her change her clothes and made her porridge letting it cool down to a temperature where it wouldn’t stick or ache her teeth.

“Y/N ...” He glowers at her sternly when she pushes his hand away holding the painkillers and that intense ferocious glare where his soft jade eyes are turning into something very dark is enough to tell her that if she’s not taking them, there's a big scold coming and after that no leniency for an argument so she takes it without throwing another tantrum.

After making sure she’s fed well and tucked into bed he’s stroking her hair and massaging her head, adjusting her pillow as she likes, kissing the tip of her nose as he murmurs.

“Rori will be pickin’ y’up sharp at 5. Told her to wake you up gently if you’ll be sleepin’.” Her eyes are dreamily glassy and she smiles lightly and she’s already missing his touch on her skin when he stands back up ready to leave.

She really wanted to say it.

Dying to say it, infact.

But all that came from her mouth was, “I’m gonna miss you.” Earning a giggle from him in return.

“G’na miss you terribly too.”

..

Rori drove Y/N to hospital. She’s still in Harry’s clothes that he made her wear in the morning, a black galaxy sweater and wide loose pants a beanie on her head to protect her from a headache and when the receptionist waves her enthusiastically upon her arrival Y/N’s smiling but never opening her mouth knowing the bitch would be back.

“Dr. Styles went for a staff on-call. He'll be here any moment, you could go inside.” Y/N’s nodding and padding inside his room. The pain has lessened a bit and that gives her teensy energy to wander around his room admiring his lil achievements, the medal he won last year and right beside it the pen holder she gave him it that has a “HORRAY TAKE BABY STEPS BABY STEPS HONEY!!” written obnoxiously on it as if she’s screaming it to his face and she giggles at her own silly gift.

She gasps and ends up knocking her hip into his desk as Harry steps in and laughs loudly at her, tutting with a shake of his head, “Jumpy little thing you’re.” Out of habit his hands are falling at her hips and bringing her closer.

“How’re y'muffy?” He asks and she’s bobbing her head up and down dramatically but silently making him chuckle.

“’Kay get yourself comfy on the seat ‘m gonna call my assistant t’give you anesthetic.” He suppresses a smile when she worms her bum up the slippery seat and goes on pushing different buttons moving it up and down.

“How adventurous.” He snickers switching the examination lamp and she rolls her eyes. His assistant’s eyeing them with happy eyes from under her glasses and Harry’s putting his latex gloves aside as she fills the injection and Y/N's muscles tenses up in anticipation, as she tries to blink the fear away and musters up a weak smile.

Knowing she has a fear of needles. Harry rolls the stool he’s sitting on closer to her and interlaces their fingers together, he coos sweetly, “It’ll be just a pinch baby.” Though, Y/N thinks Harry’s a motherfucking liar because it apparently is not just a pinch but feels like a stick shoved up your ass.

When the assistant leaves them to fetch something, Harry’s stroking the fringes of her hair behind with benevolent and caring eyes and smiles down at her sincerely.

“I want y'to relax, moppet. Yeah? Could y'do tha' f'me?” This time when he’s poking or prodding she isn't slapping him away and he’s grateful because that means her gums are numb properly.

He’s caressing her arm to assure her that she has nothing to be afraid about when she startles hearing the buzz of instrument that’s about to rip her poor gum apart.

Surprisingly she was easy. Because, Harry was so gentle with her and when he’s ushering her to spit in the little sink and she’s laying back with cloudy eyes and a grin Harry just knows the anaesthesia is kicking in.

It means that she’s allowed to blabber every dumb thing to him (she doesn’t need anaesthesia for it by the way), without any filter and timidness she’s about to chatter his brain alive.

Her gaze slowly rakes down his torso as if she’s undressing him with her eyes and she’s grinning -- more blood pooling in her mouth, “You look very handsome in scrubs — you know that?” Her words wobblish but full of naughtiness and Harry arranges them himself barking out a delighted laugh when she tugs at hem of his clothes perking her lips.

“I could really kiss you right now....” Her voice clear with desire but a hint of neediness and fondness for him and he’s gazing her down with gleamy endearment and snorts bringing the water cup to her lips, “Sorry Bambi but don’t like kissing a bloody mouth.” She keeps her doe eyes on him and they turn sad while she gurgles the water in her puffed up cheeks and spits it again into sink, about to protest with him but he’s shushing her and laying her back onto the seat.

“Not even me?” She grumps up at him and he’s retorting shaking his head in rejection, he's just trying to rile her up because he himself thinks that a single peck wouldn’t hurt.

“You’ll get an answer to this after we're done with you,” He muses softly when her eyes flicker with glee.

She was all over him as if she’s a small baby who needs his guidance to walk her way out and Harry was waving his staff goodbye with nervous lamblike smile while he tries to balance her against his chest.

The whole ride back he refrained from cooing and making im-a-fool-who-is-shamlessly-in-love noises. How could he not? When she looks this cute and cuddly in his clothes, head lulling every once a while as she sleeps facing him, her hand on his thigh to keep her reminded of his presence.

Harry’s grabbing it and kissing her knuckles. A jolly smile fluttering on his features and he isn’t waking her up as the reach and takes her into his flat – flumps her down on his bed gently and gets rid of her shoes and sweater.

Even skips dinner. Gets out of his work clothes and takes a glance of his sleepy girl standing from the wardrobe and the light clicks off before his gangly body is sliding under the duvets beside her.

Warm, sweet and cosy.

His all day's exhaustion fuses into nothingness when his feet comes caressing her calves and his chest presses to her shoulders and his elbows shelters around her in a protecting loving manner.

His heart hiccups a happy beat when she turns to his side and snuggles into him murmuring in haze, “Love you.”

He trips into utter shock. Staring down at her with baffled eyes but then the memories from past night comes upon crashing down at him like a crystal wave of ocean and floats him to an island where he belongs, always fated to belong.

He confessed his love for her.

She confessed it back.

They both were stupid and forgot it.

Now when she’s telling him that she loves him Harry feels like he’s rather about to pass out or squeal into pillow.

“I love you too, baby.” He's just wrapping her closer to him and lingering a wet kiss to her forehead.

..

Y/N’s moral was grinded, she keeps on swiping her tongue over it even how much Harry scolds her about it (it feels like a small plateau that got separated away because of an earthquake, y/n has made her own imagination about her tooth) and Harry let her chose the colour of filling that will be the mould of her crown, it was just an unnecessary thing to make her feel cheerful about it.

“Is Harry busy? Who’s inside?” She’s asking the old receptionist tapping her nails against the marble counter in eagerness to be done with it and that she’s about to take him to this yummy Thai place.

“Oh. He’s with his girlfriend right now.” Placid sereneness dooms over them and Y/N falls frightfully quite.

The poor assistant doesn’t know what she has uttered.

She just told her what the rumours has told her.

Her jittery smile drops into a blue scowl, her legs weakens at the thought and she nearly trips when Holly appears from inside his room.

It bitters her mouth with taste of anger and outrage.

Holly passes her a tight empathetic smile as if she knew everything from start and Y/N’s striding past her in resentment, her mind smoked with betrayal and vehemence.

“Hi. Moppet.” He rolls his stool over smiling up at her and it tightens her chest so much she chokes onto a breath.

How could he? No. No.

How dare he!?

But, there’s no need to cry over split milk now is it? She has to accept it that they could never be something more than just bestfriends.

“Hi.” She mumbles blocking her tears in the back of her eyes somewhere and Harry frowns, asking politely as she sits, “Feelin' alright?” She just nods and it takes Harry off-guard.

Where is his bubbly Muffy?

“Are you hurtin' somewhere?” He asks again pushing her upper lip to get a better look of her tooth. When she denies he lets it slide.

Though, when the assistant injects her and she’s groping Harry’s thigh because in grief everything hurts more than usual and her heart is dripping with sorrow and loneliness and grief she’s on verge of breaking into pieces right on this seat.

Harry’s brows clinches together in worry but she’s inhaling a puff of breath and giving him an etiolated smile to finish this as soon as possible and leave before she humiliates herself infront of him.

Her crown didn’t fit and he had to do a little more grinding. Meanwhile, Holly’s entering the room and Y/N shuts her eyes pretending that she isn’t there.

It hurts. Not in her tooth. Everywhere. Like a force is ripping her apart through a saw and it hurls her into deep agony and her heart almost stops functioning.

Harry was too focused and worried about her eerie behaviour that he ignored the frail hits on his thigh and Holly’s taking his name loudly making him stop.

Y/N’s jolting up and gagging into the sink beside her. Her knuckles turning white from gripping it ruthlessly.

She stares the clots of blood and mucus washing away with blurry eyes.

“Baby?” Harry quickly rubs her back anxiously and scrutinise with raucous beating heart as her hands shivers cupping the water and taking it in her mouth.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Are y'okay? Pet?” His voice drips with panic and dread that the worst happened to her because of him --– if the case's true he's never gonna touch her again.

“Y/N!?” He’s growling loudly when she doesn’t reply him and keeps on crying. His eyes turning back concerned and soft when she hiccups a weep, “It hurts Harry ....” Holly rolls her eyes, leans against the desk and puts the file she brought to Harry beside her.

“You’re not a child anymore, Y/N. Ofcourse it’s gonna hurt.” She snickers and this makes Y/N cry more – Harry’s holding her hands in his and stroking his thumb at her knuckles.

“Dunno --...– maybe –- ma —,” Harry’s emerald eyes are boring into her murky one's and it pierces her soul away from her inside.

Their heads perk up when Holly asks her rudely, “Are you doubting Harry?”

Y/N shakes her tiny defeated head vigorously, “No! Why —.. why would I?” More tears pooling in her waterline and dropping at the back of Harry’s hand. He rushes to wipe them away and shush her but Holly’s acidic laugh is echoing.

How could she even think that?

Y/N could never doubt him.

Why she has to be so mean to her everytime?

“I mean you —,” Holly opens her mouth to speak but Harry’s cutting her off sharply, “Dr. Jenner enough. I’ll appreciate it if you wait f'me outside.” His head snaps back to Y/N who’s wiggling out of his hold and gasping out -- her pupils blown out and woozy.

“I just need a breather.” Saying this she’s out before Holly leaving Harry baffled and agitated to ponder over how she was pain and he failed to realise sooner.

..

The zephyr is tranquil. Frolicking with her heart and the grass is dewy under her as she runs towards an empty bench outside where there’s barely any light and she wishes Harry never comes to look for her.

She’s such a mess.

Her chest suffocates with a sob. She’s trying to lull her breath back to normal just like he tells her to.

When she flutters her eyelids into vision a hand with a cross on it’s thumb is pressed onto the bench beside her and there’s an afflicted pause in the atmosphere before she slowly faces him and places her hand atop his hand.

Her breath shudders through a smile, the tension in between them thickening as Harry feels her so close but so distant from him.

Emotionally and mentally and even their souls feels trapped within their own bodies.

It upsets him, to see his Bambi like that,

“’M so sorry, Harry. My intention wasn’t to embarrass you.” She isn’t serious? Sometimes he wants to bang his head at nearby wall at her silliness.

“You didn’t.” He assures her gently.

“But I did. Infront of the person you love.” It pains to say it. In the end she could suffer from anything for his happiness even if it’s handing him to the wrong person if he loves them.

Harry’s eyes turn moist at that. An unbelievable sour laugh eliciting from his lungs as he shoves his palms into his sockets, rubs them harshly and grasps her wrists pulling her closer to him with one furious tug.

“Yeah because that’s you, dumbass!!” Y/N’s body turns into a stone at his stern confession and she’s staring him with a throb in her heart and sad kitten eyes.

His brows pricks together ferociously and his lips twitches up as he speaks chopped on tears, “Every Daphne I pick up from the side-grass while comin’ back home t’you, these stupid stars in sky ‘n these ...” His shoes scrapes against the grass as he tries to show her, “....these stupid stupid shoelaces I tie around me ankles,” He’s raising his wrist to show her the milk bottle tattoo he got for he’s in love with her and their cats, once they were drunk, “... this fuckin' tattoo I got —- ‘s always been you.” He let’s the tears shine on his cheeks and soak them rosy.

“Always you, Bambi.” His accent gluteus and hoarse, “You’re always gonna be my sweet Bambi. Who I adore and love so much.”

“How?” She whispers in bewilderment and when Harry’s warming his forehead against her's tickling her lips as he murmurs, “Because you thought we'd be a wonderful us.”

A sob is wrecking out of her and she’s wrapping her arms around the nape of his neck pulling him down into a bone crushing hug, as the night they first confessed and had their first kiss makes a home in her mind.

She’s glad they didn’t forget their first.

“I love you.” Harry mumbles through a squished up cheek and saturates their chests closer with his hand planted firmly over her spine.

“I love you too. So much of it.” They’re crying elated tears knowing they’ve eachother to wipe them away and he’s sponging a tender kiss to her mouth and the corner of her lip avoiding where it’s swollen and her cheek is bloated.

The metallic taste of her blood lingers on his own lips.

“I could even kiss your bloody mouth, see?” He giggles feathering back his lips to her lips and gives her a chastise peck.

“Let’s put your crown, my highness.” Harry scoops up giggles from within her and tries to cherish this moment for as long as possible.

He’s never gonna forget his first, done twice.

..

Not a days go by where they don’t make love to eachother. A string of knot that connects their souls as Harry keeps his cock warm inside her while sleeping and it fattens inside her when they’re about to wake up and Harry’s rolling his hips into her lazily and gradually getting out breathy hums and whispers of whines from her —- her ankles locks behind his back and he’s always hitting and caressing the spots inside her which she was never able to reach herself with her short fingers.

Their bath times are intimate. Not full of adrenaline and thrill that one would end up having a foot cast from tripping from their playfulness, like they used to everytime. It’s delicate touches. Soft back rubs. Foamy head massages and cuddly bubbles. Smooching wet kisses. Heated makeout sessions and then drying eachother off, brushing teeth together and going to bed wearing eachother’s mismatched clothes.

Their mornings are spent lounging in bed and sharing a little love, sweet irresistible kisses, mouth sweet with eachother's tongues and hands comforting eachother, having a satisfying brekkie together in bed and sometimes the other is too tired to go (it’s usually Harry) and they always remind them they’re gonna come back home to eachother.

Harry made, Y/N explore herself. Introduced her to the tingles of what it feels to be rough and have a good shag that sends her into her sub-space where she doesn’t stop thrashing and spasming under him and He’s always there to bring her back to him and to take care of her.

They sometime do it in his office room too. Whenever she’s visiting him and he looks to alluring that Y/N could swallow him whole and his thighs man-spread deliciously as he sits on the stool in his damn scrubs, “You c’mere.” He pats his thigh dirtily in a command for her to straddle him and ride his cock and she’s always obeying like a good bunny moaning out feeling him in her tummy.

They’ve had countless of sex in Harry’s living room which they turned into a working studio for Y/N and whenever she's painting sometimes naked to tease him, how could Harry resist when she looks ethereal with her peachy bosom and her adorable tummy rolls and her innocent eyes and her cushiony thighs —- so he just pushes her thighs that he’s oh so in love with to her chest and pins her to floor and fucks her till she isn’t satiated enough.

Shower sex and bit of striptease when Harry’s knackered out. The hot water that prattles on their toes and their sweaty skins that slaps against eachother’s makes it much filthier and nastier.

They’ve bunch of romantic sex too. Oh boy! Just loads of romance where he’s too soft and mushy and dotting with her.

Sometimes, two people have deep connection that makes seem romance trivial and it isn’t about lust everytime. It’s about their souls. About the deepest part of who they’re as a person. Who they could be for eachother when the time strikes.

Just like right now. As, the stars twinkle outside and the dark snowy wind hits the windows; checked by the occasional gust that rattles the rooftop and the wood would creak to tell it’s presence. Fragrance of scented candles that of peonies, sparkling champagne and crème almonds surrounds them.

Harry brought Y/N on a holiday at a mountain and had a warm cosy wooden cottage booked for themselves.

They’ve spent it enjoying themselves and forgetting about their life in city. Today, the layer of foamy crystal snow is more than usual and they decided to cuddle up into their own little comfy cubby.

He takes his time feeling her skin and she nuzzles her nose up in his throat and giggles when he purrs.

The fire churning infront of them is similar to the one quenching in his belly as he sneaks his hand under her slip dress and fondles her nipples in between his calloused fingers.

“I wanna make love t'you, Muffy.” He mumbles grazing his blunt teeth down her sweaty pulse and laps at it splaying his palm close to her bum when she arches up into him, “I’m all yours.” She guppies around a gasp and he’s chuckling sweetly cradling her face in his hold and brews his lips against her's in a passionate endearingly hot kiss that moists her breath and her each ravine pore fills with love for him.

Their chests burns with carnal desire as he lays them on the flumpy nest of bed they made from blankets and pillows, his mouth keeps on tasting her with ardent fever and he situates himself between her and grinds their pelvises sensing her nipples stitching under his fingers and she’s gnawing her teeth into his petalish lip when he fills his palms with her tits.

“So cute.” He quips when she gasps whining for him to smudge his cocoa-vaseline covered lips back on her's and her lips brushes against his clavicles, emitting a perfervid whimper as Harry strokes his palm to feel her arousal and juices, “Hmm. I could just give you a flyin' kiss and you’ll still end up squirting.” He's easing his middle finger inside her and gazes her with profound sweetness when she pushes her palm up against his large moth and punctuates soft kisses to his vein at the side of his neck that prominents from their intimacy.

“Fuck. You get t've me cock daily but still so snug, pet. G’na stretch y'nice ‘n good.” He grunts, trailing soppy kisses down the valley of her breasts. Slicking his mouth around her nipple and she whines hungrily unceasing her fingers in his curls and pulls at them bringing him down for more kisses, “You love my kisses baby? Hmm? My baby loves me kisses ...” He coos suckling onto her lower lip and latches back full to her mouth and perennials it into pastels of wetness.

Sips down her moans when he slithers three more fingers into her and fits them deep, cupping his palm against her pussy. Something weirdly soft about his bare ring-less fingers and he runs his hips into her, “Feels good?” He growls looking down where his fingers drives into her.

When she bobs her head hungrily. She squirms – goosebumps pebbling on her skin and the mellow glow of candles melting on her when he pecks her and pecks her again, kissing her tongue as he mumbles, “Bet. It’ll feel more good with my cock inside y’pussy. Tell me moppet, who's little cunt is this?” He asks wiggling his middle finger to nudge the walnut shaped spot inside her – tucked within her walls and his other hand’s pressing her thigh to floor as he saps his teeth into her neck and leaves love bites.

Marking her as his’s.

“Yours. Please, it’s all yours.” She sobs out ardently. Crumbling and lurking at the edge to hold this pleasing feeling for some moment in her belly.

“Right.” He affirms. Licking the maroon marks he littered on her puddy skin and he's grabbing her shivery hand that was about to cup around his cock and stroke it, “You’re mine.” He strings their fingers together and brings it to his lips to kiss the soft pads of her fingers.

“All mine to love on, to cherish, to be proud of –-- You’re my little Bambi.” His infatuated dotting words are making her strike herself into him, quivering and blabbering, eyes shut in bliss and love and he’s helping her ride the sensation out.

The moment he’s taking his fingers out he’s interlacing those sticky cum covered fingers with her other hand and stretching her arms and pinning their winded hands atop her head into floor.

They’re moaning into waxy humidity when Harry sheathes into her and her walls soaps around his girth as he sinks himself into her, his heavy balls pressed buried deep to her bum and he’s smushing his face into her breasts and almost snuggles into her knowing how much she loves to just be wrapped into him as he pounds his cock inside her.

He’s sweltering his hips. Feeling her gooey warmth and rolls himself harder and she’s crossing her arms around his shoulder – kissing his neck and caressing the curls that’ve grown out a tad under his earlobes.

“I love you,” He's nosing at her jaw to tip her mouth towards him and kisses it —- his hold on her delicate but she’s coveting crescents into his knuckles and a bow of string connects their mouths as she pecks him till she’s running out of breath, “I love you. I love you so so much.” Even though they’re taking their time but Y/N doesn’t think she could last a minute longer the way he’s thrusting languidly but deeply into her.

“Show me then, c’mon baby cum on m’cock. Soak it. G'na keep it inside you ‘n sleep like tha', mphmp makin' me so so good —- g'na cum?” He rasps out and she’s whimpering blubbering out without much mind as he stuffs her full and enough.

Her voice meek and high-pitch, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She’s dripping all over him and coating him with her cum. He doesn’t not stop and pumps it back inside her roughly.

“Fuck. Baby.” His howl wounded and broken as he feels his balls tighten and he leaks inside her, “S'okay honey cum inside me Harry .. love how you make me feel – how big your cock is.” She grates her teeth into the eternity of his throat and punctures her lips to suck around the fading hickey she gave him two nights prior.

His hips stutters, and he keeps himself up with his weak elbows spurting ribbons and ribbons of thick seed inside her.

She moans out when he wouldn’t stop cumming and she thrashes upward with a final twist of his push, his words sultry and drunk on libido, “Fuck. I came so much – you’ll ‘ave to squeeze tha’ all out fo’ me,” He’s smoothing their arms down to let them be on eachother and Y/N sees the gears working in his mind when he grins.

“In case you’ll want a refill.”

She rolls her eyes cheek smashed into his bicep and pinches his nipple, “Way to ruin the moment –- you libido driven slut." A noise peeps out of her when he whumps on her and looks up at her with an amused expression.

“Y'know tha' slut shaming is inappropriate?” She just shrugs smiling around a yawn.

“Is that an invitation to whore shame y'then?” He listens to her heartbeat. Tracing pattern of yellow flicker on her skin and kisses the curve of her breast.

“Will that end up me havin' yer fingers in my bum?” She creampies around him at his genuine yet naughty question and he snorts out loudly stirring his cock on purpose that’s still snug inside her, “Hmm then ‘m defo a whore.”

“Harry!” She pouts and he squishes that pout as if she’s some duckling -- an old habit he'd never get rid of.

..

“Mrs. Styles!” Holly’s head perks up at the call and she’s looking down at the five month old baby that has her bum situated on her momma’s hip and she squeals joyfully bunching her momma's shirt in her tiny chubby hands.

Holly just simpers quietly not greeting the duo and keeps on walking as Y/N enters Harry’s office room.

His face brightens up. Dimples popping awfully cute just how Y/N loves and his smile widens into a toothy one as he leaves everything and scurries towards his girls, “Oh my two Bambis!” He's greeting them with loud sloppy loving kisses all over their faces that makes them squint their eyes and giggle ticklish from the faint stubble that’s growing on his chin.

Their baby. Harry never thought he was able to love someone this purely and extremely. From a grumpy kid himself and someone who used to loose his shit at the formula chugging machines he used to call them —-- he never even imagined to own one.

But, after two years into marriage and moving into a house with the love of his life everything had a possibility for him and their one room that’d look so empty just made his stomach squeaky and yearn for a little one that he could protect and hold delicately close to his chest and lather them in his kisses and smell their baby scent and have cuddles with them,

Harry really wanted her to be a December baby -- if not particular then winters.

Because she just looks like the joy of Christmas and the sapience of homely evening.

Her frost bitten poppy nose. Her plushy warm cheeks that of running his fingers over an old sweater that holds infinite memories for him, the shimmer in her eyes that of snowflakes and those lips she got from her mother that of marshmallows melting on hot chocolate.

Harry really fucked his dream of her being a winter baby by fucking Y/N at the wrong time of the year.

She ended up coming out on the most heated month, june.

Wasn’t his fault too. Because they were trying for so long and he'd be all excited for the pregnancy tests but then they'd come out negative everytime weighing a ball of sadness in his chest and when they conceived her –-- he didn’t even remember the damn date.

The pregnancy for them wasn’t that hard. Minus the eventual tantrums that were thrown his way as daggers but he was skilled to dodge them and lure his wifey back to him with chocolate chip cookies.

The process of her birth was life taking for Y/N and Harry had short comings in his breath from the way his wife would all be jerking in pain.

She had to endure the labour pain for three days.

It’d always tear him into sobs as he'd fall into Rori's arms while everyone stayed inside with her for a moment.

It wasn’t easy to look at the love of his life, his bestfriend, his Bambi, his everything go through so much pain and he almost ended up regretting having a baby but when she’d be all snuggled up into his side after a long tiring and screaming day with her bump swollen beautifully with his bubba inside, it used to relax him a bit,

When she came out all sticky and covered in blood he realized at that moment that; she truly is his’s.

Those earthy gem eyes that didn’t cry first five minutes but rather kept on staring at him intrigued as to why the man that used to chatter her ears away in thick sleepy accent when she was in the cosy spot of her mummy’s belly is now just crying and crying.

They made her with so much love and care.

She was just so soft to touch. Just like their favourite flowers.

She was his Daphne.

He’s grabbing her from armpits and immediately putting a hand under her diaper clad bum when she huffed making grabby hands at him, “Hi Daphne bub! Missed daddy much?” He coos bouncing her a little and rumbles his lips against her cheek to create farty noises.

She squeals fisting his hair and yanks at it. That makes Y/N laugh out loudly, “Careful there, H. She’s getting quite handsy.” He just smiles convincing his baby to have some mercy on his curls.

When Y/N tells him about his routine and her nap timing Harry’s just sighing kissing her lips and patting her ass to move, “I can take care of me baby -- doin' it fo' five months, forgot?” He took a paternity leave to spend more time with Daphne and his Bambi.

To be sure that they were growing and healing well.

Y/N has to take the cats for their monthly checkup that’s why she has to leave Daphne with Harry and even though she’s not fond of her in hospitals Harry assured her that he’s heading home soon.

When Y/N leaves, Harry blows raspberries at her face and she pouts just like her mummy and he’s squishing that pout like his own little duckling.

“Da',” She grumbles and Harry kisses her cheek fondly and lovingly, “Yes Da, bubblin. Guess like we’ve got a date with Pooh and Roo at home.” He guffaws out loudly when Daphne's eyes visibly twinkles at the name of her plushies she likes to chew on and get them all soggy by the end of the day.

“You’re such a minx, baby!” Harry thinks he couldn’t be happier.

He’s complete.

His family is complete.

[todoscript]

Syndicate — [ 1 ]

Parts | one ; two ; three

Genre | Mafia AU / Anti-Villain AU.

Pairing(s) | MafiaBosses!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Rating | Mature

Words | 5.2k+

Summary | Being the lover of, not one, but three influential young men, who are the leaders of the most wanted crime syndicate in Japan, it is no surprise that other eyes are watching you beyond the three’s own.

Warnings | Violence. Cursing/crude language. Guns. Mafia talk/“negotiating”. Lots of fighting. Reader is inspired by the femme fatale archetype. Polyamorous relationship. Characters are aged-up. Sexual undertones/implied sexual content. Possessiveness. Heavily self-indulgent. Written in 3rd POV. Shouto’s “codename” is Mercury (b/c the planet is both half-hot and half-cold lol).

Author’s Notes | Hello all! This is the first ever fanfic I’ve posted on tumblr! Sorry, the idea was lingering in my head until I suddenly felt the burst of energy to start writing this out of nowhere in the dead of 3AM. I’ve written fanfiction before but I’ve never published anything for tumblr so this is exciting.

The air is still, nearly silent apart from the nocturnal creatures that scurry and prowl through alleys, navigating over the dewy darkness between the seams. The moon graces the gloom of the night with its luster across desolated areas in Japan. Business hours have longed past as services are halted until the next coming day. Civilians are nowhere to be found, tucked away in their homes with their lights flickered off.

What remains alive in Japan during this hour is the wind cast through the streets, the scamper of animals in the nocturne, and a low hum of an ebony vehicle driven down roads of street lights.

“Whatever the fuck Overhaul wants better be worth my fucking time, Deku,” hisses a peeved Katsuki Bakugou, leaning against the window of their sleek automobile and looking highly uninterested during the ride. Izuku Midoriya, the young man with the head of unruly verdant hair, nods his head. His expression is mild at his friend’s usual discontented tone.

“Kai Chisaki—the head boss of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza—wants to negotiate with us, Kacchan. Surely it would be advantageous for us to hear him out. If anything we’ll manage to at least squeak some intel from him to reference for later on.” A glint rises in the male’s eyes.

“‘Some intel’ ain’t enough. If they’re gonna drag all three of us out here, then it better be for something good, or else I might have to let off some explosions to satisfy my boredom.” Bakugou’s quirk begins to pop and crack around his palms at the idea of letting loose.

Shouto Todoroki—the third of the trio—sighs exasperatingly at his fellow inflamed mafia boss, running his hand through his red and white tresses.

“Bakugou, I’d advise against it. Knowing the location we’re heading to, your explosions would only cause a ruckus in the area that’d get the annoying heroes involved. I’ve had enough dealing with those fools as it is and we also don’t need the men in blue following after our trail.”

“Shut up Icy-Hot! If this ‘negotiation’ isn’t beneficial to us, I’ll find my own way to make them pay for wasting our damn time!” Bakugou yells.

These three young men—Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Shouto Todoroki—are known as the bosses of one of Japan’s most powerful organized crime syndicates.

Notorious, ruthless, and authoritative, these three, despite their youth, have secured a name for themselves within the underground crime world. Aside from their tenacity and skill, the strength of each of their quirks played a large factor in their rise among the rivaling crime groups. They easily snuffed out the weak competition without so much as a sweat, and working under them are other strong combatants, each of them possessing their own unique and powerful quirks.

With everything at their disposal, the Yuuei mafia group quickly obtained a vast, large territory within the capital of Japan—the epicenter of where all the shady deals and disputes occur.

“We didn’t even bring Angel Face with us. What a drag.” Bakugou gruffs. He leans back in his seat, arms crossed, and cushioned behind his head as the lamps flicker past them, the dim lights splayed across the endless road.

“Letting ____ rest was the least we could do after her successful infiltration at the political officials gala,” the middle of the three states matter-a-factly.

“Especially after the rounds she endured even after her mission,” Todoroki adds, vividly remembering the gala dress cascading down her skin and clinging to her body that night, as well as their antics that ensued afterward.

He recalls the beautiful, red formal gown she wore for the occasion, the material hugging her figure perfectly and accentuating her curves in all the right places. God, he prayed that something within him wouldn’t stir at the thought of it again.

They all remembered it quite clearly. It made their fingers itch the very evening of the event, yearning to touch all the dips and arcs that sculpted her body. Her hair, styled up and tied with a matching silk red ribbon, kept the skin of her neck bare and begging to be marked while gold lined her wrists and collar bones. To say she was a goddess that night would be an understatement. The three could barely keep their hands off her before she even left the mansion, let alone attend the gala. But once her mission was complete, she arrived home to be thoroughly loved and lusted, with three young and hungry men indulging in all the divine fruits this celestial being had to offer to them.

The girl they speak of is not only their right-hand woman but also the three’s beloved paramour. Since their journey into coming to power, ____ has been with them through thick and thin and has become an influential asset in attaining their position.

Beautiful, yet dangerous, she proved to be an incredibly powerful fighter in many forms of combat in combination with her quirk, along with having a gift for deception that allowed her to climb her way to the top of the pack. Naturally, the trio found themselves drawn to her, not just for her strength and beauty, but also her passion and ability to mend the spirits of those around her. If it weren’t her, the Yuuei mafia group would not be as intact and well-oiled as it is today.

“Besides, we have some of our best following in the car behind us in case anything suspicious happens,” Midoriya gestures to the similar-looking sleek and dark-tinted car trailing behind their own.

“I very much doubt we need them, but it’s best not to worry Angel too much while she’s resting,” Todoroki murmurs, crossing his legs.

A few more turns and they’ve eventually entered the area of a vacant warehouse located on the edge of Japan near the shore.

The moment their vehicle is directed to a stop, the three bosses exit. Bakugou vehemently slams his door, eyeing the building with a vexing glare.

“Let’s get this shit show over with. This better be good.”

The warehouse is eerily quiet in the dead of the night and smells of salt from the ocean behind it. Spotting them walking to the entrance, the watchmen of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza hastily open the doors enclosing the warehouse. The hinges bear an uncomfortable creaking sound that jars through the silence.

“Oh, he’s here! He’s here! My cute little Izuku is here!” hollers a shrill voice belonging to an all-too-energetic head of messy, bunned-up blonde hair. The said boy blinks twice at her enthusiasm as they approach the lone wooden table situated in the center of the warehouse.

Uh, do I know her? He ponders for a second before dismissing the thought.

A pale man with gloved hands and shaggy auburn hair holds a hand out to halt the girl behind him. “Calm down Toga, we haven’t spoken of negotiations yet, so I need you to be quiet.”

Toga pouts, nearly grasping a silver blade at her side but stills herself for now. In the meantime, she opts to fidget with the tubular machine wrapped around her body.

The three look up to view a small group illuminated by the light fixed above the wooden table. Their eyes swiftly count seven or eight of them surrounding that area, including the ringleader, and likely more hidden somewhere in the darkness around them. After all, any fine and experienced villainous group would know better than to invite the bosses of the most dangerous crime syndicate without being thoroughly prepared for a possible scuffle to occur.

However, for now, they all advance with the notion to talk first before unleashing quirks and violence (well most of them anyway).

“Welcome, welcome. I see you made it to this place without much trouble; you’re right on time,” Overhaul greets the three young men mildly, “Deku, Ground Zero, and Mercury.”

Midoriya walks forward as the center of their entourage to return the cordial greeting. “Yes, it’s nice to finally meet you, Kai Chisaki of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza. Otherwise known as Overhaul.”

“Ah, so you know of me and my cause. It seems our reputation precedes us.”

“Of course. The Shie Hassaikai yakuza has long been in business in the crime world…” Midoriya muses, “Though they’ve wrung out past their former glory. Having since been pushed back into the underground after the rise of heroes.”

Bakugou smirks, close to letting out a snicker at the backhanded comment.

It’s true. While the Shie Hassaikai were one of the main criminal groups running the yakuza underground, that all soon fell and crumbled as the surge of heroes came into society. It was only after the former boss’ grandson, Kai Chisaki, came into power and took leadership that their name grew back into prominence once again, albeit little by little.

“Why you little–” A man donning a long white raincoat and plague doctor mask swiftly appears with a pistol pointed in Midoriya’s direction, none too amused by the remark. However, he’s cut off by a wall of ice erected at Midoriya’s side.

“Watch where you point those toys you little rat,” Todoroki sneers, and the tone of his voice nearly exposes chills to the air.

“Calm down, Chrono. We’re the ones that invited them as guests, thus we need to treat them like so.”

The white-haired subordinate withdraws at the words of his leader, retracting the gun back into the pocket of his coat.

“I apologize, he’s simply on edge over the fact we have some pretty powerful people at our doorstep. You’ll have to excuse him.”

“It’s quite all–”

“Did we come here to talk, or did we come here to fight?” Bakugou barges through, shoving past Midoriya with no restraint.

“I thought this was a fucking negotiation, not an apology fess. If one of your dogs is so edgy, I’d be happy to give him a good thrashing to satiate him if you want,” his raised hand sparks and flickers in the dark, “If not then get to it, Overhaul,” he threatens. Midoriya sighs.

“I think we’re simply all… piqued as to why this meeting was demanded out of nowhere and scheduled for the dead of the night no less, but I’m sure you have some important matters to discuss with us right, Overhaul?” Midoriya reasons, a sly grin on his lips.

“Right, let's get to it shall we?” Approaching closer to the table separating them, Overhaul continues, “First off, I must congratulate you on successfully infiltrating that gala the other night. Not many crime organizations can sneak into a party of that caliber. Especially when it’s so heavily guarded and kept secretive to all suspicious eyes of the dark,” he commends, digging a hand into the pocket of his jacket.

The three exchange quick, wary glances from the corner of their eyes that the opposite party misses.

“You were there?” Todoroki questions bluntly in which Overhaul hums in response.

“Hm, yes. But for different reasons, I’m sure. You see, I’ve been… examining little details of the Yuuei mafia group recently. It fascinates me how well-oiled and efficient you are at running your organization, so I began to ponder: ‘How do they do it?’ Little did I know, the answer all became more than clear to me from what I saw at that gala,” the auburn-haired man drawls, finally plucking out a photo from his pocket and sliding it across the wood under the light.

The moment the three recognized the image, their eyes widened, soon shifting into visages of sheer hostility at the next statement pronounced.

“This girl here? I want her.”

Within the confines of the paper is ____, dressed in the red gown she wore the very night of the gala, a masquerade mask over her features with the purpose to obscure herself in the throng.

The three before Overhaul seethe vessels of wrath.

“What did you just say? Do you even know what you’re asking of us?” Todoroki feels icy and heated atmospheres form on his opposing left and right sides upon hearing Overhaul’s words, sensing the tension rising around his fellow partners as well.

“The girl, I must say, does excellent work at her job. She’s skilled and tactical, having infiltrated many influential organizations and assassinated several powerful faces getting in the way of your mafia group. Such precision, efficiency, and beauty makes her the perfect woman, wouldn’t you agree?” He picks up the picture, bringing it up next to him.

Given the deadly pressure in the air, the next words he utters might be the final nail in his coffin.

“Well, I want you to hand her over to me.”

The nail is hit. There’s a lingering silence before hell nearly breaks loose and the next motions could deliver his soul down the River of Styx.

Fueled by blood-boiling anger and annoyance, Bakugou charges forward to land an explosive hit on the yakuza boss. “LIKE HELL WE WOULD, YA FUCKING BASTARD!” He’s thwarted by a yellow barrier emerging to shield the leader from the attack, courtesy of a henchman at his left side. The blonde jumps back, his hands still crackling and his rage not dissipating anytime soon. “Don’t go spewing a bunch of shit outta your mouth!”

“Now… let’s be rational or you’ll start getting dirt everywhere...” Overhaul dusts off his shoulder before resuming the conversation nonchalantly, “Of course I’ll provide you with compensation. I wouldn’t be so naive as to expect to be given something so valuable without offering payment after all.”

With a snap of his fingers a large, bulky man promptly lays a silver briefcase on the table. The locks click open to reveal wads of cash layering the case to the brim, enough to flabbergast and entice any common citizen in Japan.

“If this amount isn’t enough, I have another briefcase with—”

A jolting sound of the wooden table and metal briefcase breaking beneath Midoriya’s foot is enough to diminish the rest of Overhaul’s remark, signifying their blunt answer to his offer.

“What a waste of a night it’s been. Presenting money to us in hopes that we’d simply hand over our beloved like she’s some prostitute for sale? You're more of a fool than I took you for, Kai Chisaki,” Each word that rolls off Midoriya’s tongue is laced with venom. Such malice is enough to paralyze those who hear it, as if it would be the last statement they’ll ever listen to before hitting the concrete dead.

Reasoning with the trio any further is equivalent to bargaining with the god of the underworld, offering nothing but your knees on the floor and a sad pleading voice, only to be whisked back to the deepest, darkest chambers of hell.

Overhaul simply pauses before following with a long, testy sigh.

“A no then? Alright. Toga.”

The bun-headed blonde pounces forward at the command almost instantaneously, knife in her grasp and ready to swing. Midoriya moves to the side with ease, evading the blade as well as dodging a puncture from a needle. His agility is manifested in green electric currents of aura.

“Ooh, I finally get to cut up and obtain cute Izuku’s yummy blood!” She grins psychotically, keeping both eyes trained on the green-haired boy. “Heehee, I’ve been waiting for this day! Ever since I saw that photo of you all bruised up in a fight, I had to have you all to myself! I just love a man all red and bloodied!” Toga exclaims in utter glee, giggling like a schoolgirl meeting her celebrity idol.

Midoriya grimaces, nearly shivering at her excitement over announcing her neurotic confession to him. Her contorted facade is not earning her any points either. Taking notice of the wary expression that crosses his brows, Toga grins wider.

“It’s OK, even if you don’t like me now, you’ll definitely like me when I get a drop of that girl’s blood and transform into her! We’ll look so much alike, you’ll have heart-eyes for me too!” Her features curve into a look of pure hysteric that leaves Midoriya speechless, so much so it takes a loud blast hurled past him to finally bring his senses back to the conflict.

“Move it, Deku!” Bakugou’s attacks are relentless and powerful, but Toga’s nimbleness prevents her from getting hit.

“Deku, Ground Zero, back up,” Todoroki raises his left hand, the corresponding side flaring with heat before quickly igniting into bright hot flames enough to cover his entire arm. “You lot have some nerve to call us and arrange this abhorrent deal under the guise of a ‘negotiation.’ I’ll incinerate you all for even thinking you could take her from us.”

His quirk is unleashed in a flurry of fire that’s launched toward his enemies.

“Dabi,” Overhaul signals and a lanky man with patched, burnt scars and skin held together by staples and stitches steps forward, triggering his blue blazes to combat the red-orange ones. The infernos collide into a firestorm that soon scatters and disperses due to a power struggle.

“Tch,” Todoroki narrows his brows, annoyed.

“Hm, the brat’s not all talk after all,” Dabi’s expression remains stoic while his hand hovers in front of him, still swallowed by his azure flames. Wordlessly he releases his blazes once more only to be countered by Todoroki’s wall of ice diminishing the onslaught of fire.

On their end, Midoriya and Bakugou are in pursuit of the head honcho Overhaul himself, while attempting to throw blows at Toga along the way.

Now enveloped in energy that increases his strength and dexterity tenfold, it isn’t long until the green-haired young man catches up to crafty Toga’s momentum. With a grunt, Midoriya kicks forward, swinging his foot into the girl’s direction with tremendous force that’s too quick for her to avoid.

Toga braces herself for the impact but the attack never meets. Instead, a yellow shield materializes in front of her to take the blow, a crack now evident on the surface of the saffron safeguard. “Oooh! Izuku’s really out for blood! How thrilling!” she squeals, licking her lips.

“It’s that fucking barrier bastard again! Move over, I’ll kill him!” yells a pissed Bakugou who jumps over Midoriya’s head, running across the top of the manifested barrier. From there, he spots his offender.

Gritting his teeth, he dashes off the shield before it can disappear and uses it to propel himself forward. His palms glow and envelope themselves with heat as he holds them outward.

“Rappa! I can’t conduct another shield so quickly, get him!” Tengai, the one with the barrier quirk, hastens his partner. Rappa zealously swoops in front of him with iron-knuckle gloves ready.

“Oh no, you don’t! Try and fucking dodge this!” Bakugou brings his hands forward while still in midair, “Stun Grenade!” A radiant, gleaming light emits from his palms, effectively blinding all those within his vicinity.

Rappa and Tengai have no choice but to cover their eyes from the intensity of the light, leaving them wide open to strike!

Without hesitation, the ash-blonde creates two more explosions to launch himself forward, spinning in the air and gathering momentum before firing his attack encased in an explosive tornado.

“Howitzer Impact!!”

In an instance, a flash exudes in a fiery burst of nuclear reaction, which releases violent discharges of kinetic energy towards his enemies. The attack hits home, covering a chuck of the area with debris and rubble, and producing a hole on the right side of the warehouse.

Tengai and Rappa are incapacitated.

“Kac— Ground Zero, you went all out didn’t you…” Midoriya mutters while holding Toga down despite all her fidgeting. In a last-ditch effort, the girl draws out the spare knife tucked away in her utility belt, however the young man on top of her knocks it away before she can react any further.

“Toga, am I correct? I suggest you stand down, or I may have to break something to make you cooperate.” Midoriya’s warning exudes a menacing tone, in contrast to his former courteous character and the gentle features adorning his face. Yet Toga does not seem fazed by this.

“Heehee, you’re so cute when you make threats like that…” she giggles, shifting her head ever so slightly to catch glimpses of the male’s appearance. He’s quite disheveled down to his wrinkled suit, unbuttoned collar, sweat glistening on his forehead, and what’s this?

Toga peeks at a single crimson line split on the skin of his cheek with dilated pupils.

“Even though you were so fast, I at least managed to graze you just a teeny-tiny bit! That scarlet cut looks so nice on you, Izuku, aw how I wish I can give you more!” She prattles on and on, beaming over every utterance spoken past her lips. “I did say red is the best color on you, after all!”

Midoriya’s eyes narrow at her behavior, fists clenched and apt to deliver a silencing blow.

“Although… blue wouldn’t look half bad either.”

Unable to express confusion at her remark, he soon perceives a blast of cerulean blue flames aimed and released in his direction, forcing him to jump up to dodge the attack. Toga makes her escape after the fire diffuses, withdrawing next to Dabi. The patched man continues his onslaught on Todoroki and Midoriya.

“They’ve managed to defeat our spear and shield, and nearly took out Toga,” Overhaul’s stance is methodical and calculating, overseeing the fight from the back lines of his unit with a gloved hand beneath his chin. “I suppose it’s time to use that,” he declares.

Chrono briefly glances at him before reaching for a gun in the pocket of his coat—a different weapon from the pistol he pointed at Midoriya earlier. In a container held behind him, he produces a peculiarly shaped bullet, one that takes on the form of a cartridge with a hypodermic needle sticking out on one end.

“Dabi, when these bullets hit, that will be your chance to burn them all away,” orders the auburn-haired man. He raises an arm to prep for the signal as Chrono readies the gun wielded in his hand, positioning his target onto the spiky blonde mafia boss.

“Ha! You think a pathetic little gun is going to stop me?!” While Bakugou exudes confidence and arrogance, his dual-haired comrade is not as keen about the situation at hand.

Why would those fools try to use such a primitive method of fighting at this point? They saw how useless that gun was earlier… ponders Todoroki in the heat of battle, Unless…

“Ground Zero! Be careful! There’s something fishy about that weapon they’re using!” he warns, making the blonde’s expression fix into an irritated glare.

“Shut up Icy-Hot; I know what I’m doing! Why don’t you pay attention to patchwork over there before you get another scar!” Bakugou quips back, eyes never leaving Overhaul. “I’m gonna make this washout yakuza leader regret ever giving us a call to this useless negotiation.”

The man is impassive at the blonde’s threats, lips remaining in a fine line underneath his mask. His arm stays raised next to him for Chrono to acknowledge.

At once, Bakugou’s body launches back into action like a jet engine propelling a rocket. His movements gather more and more sweat to strengthen himself for another devastating assault.

“Pesky thing won’t stop moving…” mutters Chrono, hand continually shifting aim at Bakugou’s unpredictable tumbling. “I’ll just make you sit still!”

On command, arrow-shaped hair pierces through the fabric of his hood and extends straight to Bakugou. His quirk’s versatility and quick instincts allow him to evade the attack to the left with ease. However, it seems Chrono was waiting for that very moment as the blonde is now within his gun’s line of sight.

Overhaul draws his hand down, giving Chrono the signal to finally pull the trigger. A crack of a sonic boom resonates within the single millisecond it is shot. The dart is fired.

The gunshot rings throughout the space of the warehouse. Todoroki and Midoriya can barely register the shot in time to yell out to Bakugou, whose head turns toward the capsule’s velocity in almost slow motion.

Crap..! he curses, unable to move away to escape the bullet in time and preparing to embrace the shot.

However, it never makes its mark.

“Boss! Watch out!”

A gruff voice suddenly makes its debut within the fray, taking everyone by surprise as the newcomer throws himself in front of Bakugou, hardened arms crossed.

“What the—!”

Chrono watches in despair. The bullet ricochets right off the rock-like body of a man with spiked tufts of crimson red hair.

“What the hell? Red Riot?!” sputters a bewildered Bakugou at Kirishima’s abrupt entrance.

“D-Dammit!” Chrono tries to fire again to rectify his failure, but his attempt is in vain. Something muscly wraps around his arm tightly, tossing him away.

“Froppy!” Midoriya calls out to the girl as she retracts her froggy tongue, currently clung to the wall, and camouflaged into her surroundings. She reveals herself into the battle with a small “ribbit.”

“While you guys were inside, a bunch of their goons started surrounding our cars. We knew something shady was up, especially when we heard explosions coming from inside, so we busted our way in here right past them!” Kirishima explains, now standing back-to-back against Bakugou, “Seems like you’re fighting a battle too!”

“I see, so they planned on ambushing all of us if we didn’t comply with their deal,” says Todoroki. He fires more flames in their direction. “How pathetic. They were woefully unprepared.”

“Agreed! Ambushing is no way to fight! Real men would come at us head-on!” Kirishima emphasizes his fierceness through clanking his hardened fists against each other, jagged edges sparking.

“Red Riot! Froppy!” exclaims Midoriya, “Where are the others?”

Asui ribbits before answering, “They’re handling the rest of the—”

“L-Leader..! Leader!” a frantic voice shouts from the entrance of the warehouse, where a ragged up Shie Hassaikai henchman tries to pry inside.

“T-The girl..! She isn’t h-here, she isn’t— GAH!”

His message is interrupted. A menacing shadowy figure looms over the goon like a monster hiding within the dark and throws him back to the struggle outside, proceeding to rampage across the battlefield. Desperate cries leak out but to no avail.

Overhaul discerns the sputtered message:

The girl he so desired was not with them to begin with.

To his dismay, this fight was pointless. If what he sought could not be forcibly taken right then and there, then there is no reason to continue the battle. There was no prize to be won by the end of it all.

Now, he must adjust his plans due to the unfavorable news. How tragic.

At the thought of having lost time, energy, and resources, the yakuza leader pinches the bridge of his nose, utterly furious. There’s a pause in which Overhaul seethes an aura of killing intent over this frustration.

But it eventually simmers and subsides. What happens now cannot be changed, no matter how enraged he is. So he must take logical steps to preserve and remedy the repercussions, which to him was simple:

“We’re withdrawing.”

“What?” Dabi looks at him incredulously, “After all this?”

“Yes, they've taken down our spear and shield, and have wiped out the majority of the soldiers. If what we want isn’t here, then there is no point in staying,” Overhaul’s husky tone bears weight and authority at every word.

“Nemoto, grab Chrono from wherever he was thrown.”

“Yes, Overhaul. What about Rappa and Tengai?”

The auburn-haired man doesn’t so much as spare a glance toward his two defeated subordinates lying on the ground, “Leave them. They’re expendable to me.”

Nemoto nods, going to gather a knocked out Chrono thrown across the warehouse and now lying unconscious atop broken wooden crates.

Midoriya’s fists clenched tightly at the scene, realizing what the yakuza’s next plan of action was going to be.

“They’re trying to escape!”

“Oh, the fuck they are. I won’t let a single one of you bastards leave!” Bakugou bursts into the air, propelled by the explosions from his palms in hot pursuit, with Midoriya catching up thanks to his heightened speeds.

“Sorry boys, party’s over!” Toga intercepts the two using twin knives flung in their direction, catching them off guard. Dabi follows the diversion by gathering a massive amount of flames into his hands before swiftly releasing the kindled energy to erect a blue wall of fire throughout his surroundings.

“Bye Izuku~!” a feminine voice shrills from behind the fiery wall, becoming the last words they hear as they wait for the flames to dissipate, ultimately revealing that their enemies had already fled.

“Those fuckers couldn’t have gone far,” Bakugou doesn’t relent, poised on finding them and having them pay the full consequences of their actions. Midoriya grasps his shoulder, stopping him.

“Let them go, Kacchan. Considering the location they decided for this meeting, they likely fled by boat. We have no way of following them at the moment.”

Todoroki agrees, adding on, “Besides, there are more important things to worry about right now,” he casts his gaze to the wooden table Midoriya had broken prior to the fight transpiring. “For one, they’re after ____ and are willing to go to any lengths to get her. We need to head back to the mansion to make sure she’s safe.” There’s slight urgency evident in his tone. Despite their tenacity, the idea of having their beloved wrenched away is enough to render them even a little bit fearful. Had she been present in the conflict, there’s no telling what could have happened.

“And two,” Todoroki walks off to another site of the warehouse, picking up something dropped on the floor, “we need to figure out what this is.” In his hand, he holds the small capsule bullet that is now slightly dented thanks to the impact against Kirishima’s hardened skin.

The other two examine the capsule briefly until Bakugou decides to take it from Todoroki’s fingers for closer inspection. If Overhaul was so keen on using a gun to do away with them all, despite how inferior it was, then this must be no ordinary bullet.

The three decide to contain the item for further examination for now as they, Kirishima, and Asui make their way outside again. There, bodies of Shie Hassaikai thugs littered the floor after having been thoroughly beaten into submission. Tokoyami, Yaoyorozu, Uraraka, and Kaminari lean against the cars casually but remain attentive after the fight.

“It was quite an ill-planned move to dare to attack us in the night,” Tokoyami’s eyes closed in thought at the havoc he wreaked thanks to the amplified powers of his quirk. Kaminari snickers and boasts with an electric snap of his fingers, “Yakuza didn’t know what hit them, the mafia always stays on top.”

“Excellent work everyone, it seems the henchmen were of no trouble to you,” Midoriya commends the squad, “Now, we must leave before the police arrive on the scene to assess the damage.”

Their six combatants all nod at the order, about to gather back in their vehicle until Bakugou huffs with a final statement before they make their getaway.

“Know that the next time we see those Shie Hassaikai bastards, we will take them down,” He narrows his eyes at the ocean, the moon still hanging above the sky and basking the waters in moonlight,

“without hesitation.”

Ending Notes | Whew.. thanks for reading! For the next part I was considering writing it in 2nd POV since the reader will actually be physically present during the events of the story now, but I’m not sure yet. Please let me know your thoughts and follow if you’re interested in this series <3

[writella]

Around and Around and Around

Pairing: Luke Patterson x reader

Requested? Yes! My first finished request! Thank you for the idea anon. Original ask: Could you do a present day... Alive!Luke x reader fic where him and his girlfriend (the reader) are just trying to spend some alone time together at one of Carrie’s parties? (I’m so sorry I didn’t make it Carrie’s party anon, I forgot.)

Summary: It’s a New Years Eve bash! The gangs all there, but the only thing Luke wants to do is spend time with his girlfriend. Unfortunately though, his friends constantly need their help which causes them to lose each other in the crowd. Around and around and around they constantly go... Can Luke meet up with her in time for a New Years Kiss? We shall see, my friends. We shall see.

Word Count: :)

Warnings: Kissing? Two curse words? I don’t think any of that counts. Oh! Over explaining? Neediness? An over use of the same words?

A/N: Hello everyone! IT IS A CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEARS MIRACLE! I finally finished a new fic. I really hope you enjoy it. I think I did a little too much, but this request just got my head turning and included the whole gang, so I just couldn’t help but give them all their own little moments! I had fun and I hope you do too. I’m taking you on a bit of a rollercoaster here, I will admit, but don’t worry though, I think I gave it a good ending.... You tell me.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N?”

“Luke?”

“Where are you?”

“Luuuke!”

“Luke!

“LUKE, COME LOOK!”

“Y/N, I need you.”

“Her shoe broke!”

“Luke, did you see his dog? It’s so cute! And he even likes pizza!”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to give pizza to a dog, Reg.”

“Well it wasn’t chocolate… Wait where’d he go? Wanna help me find him?”

“Well can she wear yours? Do you have an extra pair?”

“Where are they?”

Hey, Luke?!” 

“Y/N?!”

Boom the bedroom door slammed shut, and an out of breath Luke and his girlfriend, Y/N, filed in with a sigh: “Finally,” Luke said, his eyebrows and the corner of his lips rising with excitement. Throughout the hour and forty minus they had spent at the party thus far, they had found corners, almost empty areas, and even tall trees in the backyard, but none were as private as this. 

Still standing close to the door, Y/N looked around the walls that glittered with posters of rock bands and athletes. “Do you really think we should be in here? It is the birthday person’s room. Maybe we should be nice and leave it alone.” 

“When you throw a party you get what you get,” Luke reasoned, a hint of humor tracing throughout his words. “People travel, and we’re not going to do anything crazy on the kid’s blue basketball sheets if that’s what you’re worried about.” He ended, teasing Nick, the party host. 

She softly gave him an ‘alright,’ waiting for him to make his next move. Though they had been thrown around by their friends plenty of times by now tonight, the night was still young, and she knew Luke was adamant on spending time with her. Even more so, it was her first party after living in Los Angeles for almost a year now. (She was a Molina from Julie’s father’s side.) Back home she didn’t have the friend group that she had now, nor did she have someone like Luke specifically in her life as a significant other. After all this time in high school not experiencing these regular social events, a party— especially at this large of a house— seemed daunting, but as always Luke made it seem, as he always does, like it was the most spectacular adventure you couldn’t miss. Apprehension and excitement filled her spirit for what was to come of tonight. 

Following his gaze as she watched him survey the room, Luke’s eyes fell most notably on Nick’s guitars. “God, I wish I had this many.” 

“He definitely has the collection,” Y/N agreed,  still wondering what they were going to do, “but you’ve got like four, right?”

“Half of those were Bobby’s, and the acoustic is the one my parents got me… way back when, so really I only scrounged up enough money once in my life for one electric of my own.”

“So two. Still more than most.” She gave him a sympathetic smile, messing up his hair a little bit while doing so. He rubbed his head into her palm, enjoying the feeling.

There was a wonder in his eyes as he looked at the guitar rack that Y/N found quite charming. “Can’t believe he could spend all his time with these babies and he decides to balance it with sports.”

“I guess we all have our hobbies… but honestly I can’t believe we’re using this moment to ourselves to stare at guitars.” She laughs, “I’m just saying! This is what you wanted!” She corrects herself, “They are beautiful guitars though.”

“Yeah, you’re right. One of them could barge in any minute now,” Luke says, moving closer to Y/N till her back leans against the door. His fingers trace her jaw, then the side of her neck, ending as he swirled one finger around the tips of her hair. “And I could be looking at a much prettier sight.”

“Stop,” she blushed. Y/N was fine with tending to all her friends needs. She enjoyed being the first one Julie, Flynn, and now even Alex or Reggie went to for advice or help. Besides running the jatp social media account and co-running their YouTube page, making her friends feel better was what made her feel needed, but she had to admit, she liked this too. 

As they traveled backwards to the door, Luke pecked her lips a few times, then the corners of her mouth, then doing both again making her giggle and move her head to either side his lips fell. Finally, he moved centimeters back, looking in her eyes, ghosting her lips, “Stop doin’ what? Tellin’ the truth?” 

The rosy color on her face became more prominent. Her eyes traced between his own emeralds and his smile— his face made her mind fill with wonder. It was so bright, so positive, so warm, so close to her own. She could stay there with him, looking at her so endearingly, forever.

“Y/N?!” 

“Ow!” she screeched as Flynn pushed the door open on her leaning stance, bopping her head on the wood. 

“Oh my god, sorry!” Flynn gritting her teeth with worry, a fist coming to cover her mouth. “So yeah, ha ha,” the girl tried to build some relief, “Well there you two are!”

Luke grabbed the side of Y/N’s head, placing his hand over her own that covered where the impact landed, “You okay?” 

“Yeah…” She sighed, she was more concerned about whatever Flynn had to say. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I need you, like for real this time.” Flynn said, her voice filled with urgency. 

“Haven’t you needed her and looked for her ‘like’ everywhere three times tonight already?” Luke argued, a little disgruntled that their first truly private moment got interrupted in the matter of minutes.

“Was I talking to you, Patterson?” Flynn retorted, head tilted with a closed smirk on her face. “No, the answer is no.”

“You didn’t have to say the answer, okay? Got the gist.” His movements became dorkier by the second, his fingers coming to his face. “It was rhetorical- I knew that!” 

“Wow, learned that big boy word from your girlfriend?”

“Big boy?! I- That’s not even-“ before Luke went on, Y/N cut in: “Alright,” she lifted her hand, “What happened, Flynn? What do you need?”

“It’s Julie-“

“Don’t tell me she broke another shoe. I don’t have an extra-extra pair.”

“No.” Flynn’s eyes widened, “I actually- I don’t know what it is. She just told me to get you and come to her together.” The girl sighed, “She looked sad.” 

“Oh,” Y/N said, a frown coming to her face. A sad Julie is a Julie that should never be in this world. Other than thinking about the absence of her mother, Y/N’s cousin knew how to smile even when things got tough, so if she was feeling down now, and it was evident, it must’ve been important. 

“Yeah. So come? Like now?” Flynn grabbed Y/N’s hand and Y/N looked at her own opposite hand that was currently attached to Luke’s, trailing her eyes up to his face. 

“Well, I’ll just go too.” He insisted, “I want to help Julie, and,” He spoke directly to Y/N, “I don’t mind.”

“She didn’t ask for you.” Flynn snapped back. 

“It’ll be fine.” Y/N decided, “It’s not like we all don’t know her well anyway, right?”

“Yeah, let's go. And then we can just get back, hopefully. I want to spend tonight with you.” Luke said that last part more softly, but apparently not quietly enough. 

“Oh god!” Flynn vexed. “Haven’t you spent all week stuck to her mouth?”  Through snickers she said, “Let her come up for some air, bruv.” Then, letting go of Y/N's hand as she turns, leading the couple to the staircase, she continued: “And really you should be relaxing all those throat muscles or whatever. I've got you in two open mic night cafes next week and that kids party at the restaurant tomorrow, AND on Sunday Julie said she wanted to record that new song for the YouTube channel.” She slapped the side of her hand to the inside of the other, creating a chopping effect, “We got things to do! I’m trying to make sure you guys stay safe and have fun, but we shouldn’t be here all night.”

Luke rolled his eyes, as much as he loved playing, he hated being bossed around like this. “It's New Year’s Eve!” He complained, yet there was still a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Mind you, this is being said by the girl who agreed to DJ at this party.”

“I didn’t agree! I got reeled into it— Difference, see! This kid comes out of nowhere to bring me onto his home stage— man, he’s rich—- and asks me if I could change the tracks, put something fun on. How am I supposed to say no? It is his birthday and everything that was on before was terrible!”

“That we can agree on,” Luke noted with a laugh.

Y/N added on, after her long silence of listening to the two go back and forth, “You finally got everyone dancing.”

“I did! Thank you!” Flynn appreciated the acknowledgment, especially from Luke, but nonetheless, she persists on her earlier claim, “That being said, I really think we should leave by 10.”

“10?!” Luke repeats with annoyance. “Tomorrow’s gig starts at six. PM. And might I remind you again: it's freakin New Years Eve! We have to stay till the ball drops!”

“We have to practice one last time and we have to get there bef-“

“Alright, alright, boss.” Luke was done arguing (for the time being.) Instead his eyes followed Y/N’s who was no longer listening, bored of her best friend and boyfriend’s little fighting game, as they looked for Julie in the clusters of kids all around the room on the main floor. “Let’s just look for Jules so we can get back. And can we make it to midnight at the least? Please? I mean, come on, there no food at the Molina house to celebrate with and you were having fun up there with those turntables.” He started to smile cheekily at Flynn, “Don’t deny it.”

Flynn took in a sharp breath as she thought. Nick did have access to some sick equipment and has always been so kind enough to share, so it would be fun to play around some more. “We’ll see how I feel at 11. And by the way, we do have things to celebrate with at the garage. I bought stuff specifically so you guys wouldn’t complain when we left,” she went on, the three taking another turn, “We’re going to have some fun here till 10, or 11 I guess, get back to the garage, celebrate New Years— woo-hoo!— and then you guys are settled down by 12:15, 30 the latest. I don’t care if you’re not asleep, just not outside.” Seeing Luke’s face rise up again she defends herself,  “It's not my fault you phantoms have terrible time management skills! You guys literally have transportation powers and you’re either late or not present. It’s crazy! I need to make sure you’re there and we get paid. Period.”

Luke suppressed a grunt as Y/N rubbed his shoulders, laughing a bit at the truth of Flynn’s statement. 

Then, to console Luke, she whispered in his ear, “No matter where we are, I’ll be there. Plan still intact.” 

“True.” Luke whispered back, rubbing his nose on the side of her head. 

Luke liked his freedom. He was used to calling the shots when it came to the band, only taking on co-captain position as Julie challenged him with just as much leadership star power as he contained. This made Flynn appointing herself as band manager not something to be desired exactly, especially when she made decisions like this on their down time. He didn’t quite enjoy being told where to go and when, but on the other hand, he couldn’t help to admit to himself that the tech savvy skills both her and Y/N brought to the table were tremendously helpful. The 90s boy was used to walking around town trying to find the next cafe for the guys to play at that he didn’t know how easy it was in this digital world to find venues he never even heard of through the internet. This made him never forget to say thank you after a gig she or Y/N would find from their endless online searchings. And on Flynn’s end, she never forgot to commend Luke on his writing skills when he happened to be the scribe for one of the band’s songs she happened to enjoy, but other than that, they did not have that much to say to each other. 

Despite the natural banter and quips  that would suggest they were well acquainted, they were actually still quite awkward. Luke was used to admiring her relationship with Julie and Y/N from afar, and for Flynn, after the boys came back to life she didn’t know exactly how to fit herself into the group. Of course she was a part of it, Y/N made certain of it as she herself had also felt strange about her placement in Julie’s new friend group before Julie formally introduced her to them, not knowing that her cousin could also see ghost like she could, but overall, Flynn felt just the tiniest bit embarrassed that the boys she once called ‘cute ghosts’-- more than twice-- heard her say that and all the other things she’d say not knowing they were around (Julie told her they could sometimes snoop in unbeknownst to even her at times. ‘They don’t know boundaries,’ she would say.) Flynn especially felt this way when one of those ex-ghosts was Luke who knew he was ‘cute,’  as she once said, and would bother her about it endlessly when he was first able to communicate with her. 

Were they friends? Or was it simply that Luke was just a friend of her friends and that Flynn was just the friend of his girlfriend and mutual friend. Neither of them knew where their relationship stood. This caused Flynn to use her wit as a defense mechanism or to only begin a conversation with the guy when it was about something band related. ‘You kind of act like siblings,’ Y/N would tell them when they were at it. Both of them gawked at the word. ‘Siblings?!’

Around another corner the three went, passing the open space below the home stage that was being used as a dance floor. They went to the room adjacent to it. It was another rather large area, though this one was filled with more furniture, a lot in fact, perhaps to make space for the makeshift dance area. There was also an unused fireplace which caught the eyes of Y/N who yanked on the connected hand of Luke’s and then Flynn to take notice of who sat on the ledge. 

The water bunching up in her eyes sparked white from the room's fluorescent gleaming lights, making her tears look much bigger and shinier. It made the group feel bad they didn’t find her sooner. 

“Julie!” They all exclaimed in unison though Luke’s reaction was filled with the most apparent fret: the glow of the lights and his wide eye expression showed clearly how his eyes were growing greener with questions and worry. “What happened?” He tried to ask softly, not knowing how to react to her tears. The attempt at softness then immediately changed into one of starting frustration as he sat down next to his poor bandmate, hand on her knee, looking toward Flynn, “Why didn’t you tell us she was like this?” 

“Because she wasn’t like this when I left!” Flynn countered, coming to sit down next to Julie on her left side as Luke had taken the right. 

“Why do you always-“

“Enough guys,” Y/N silenced them for the third time that night. She noticed how Julie was shying away from both of their faces, not wanting to show them her tears. Julie was strong; a fighter; she sometimes much rather fake out her friends by smiling through her problems before she was ready to talk about them. Y/N knew all of this, related to it in fact, and could sense the possible embarrassment she must’ve been feeling. Not only did she create a movie moment for herself by being the girl crying at a party, but she was crying in front of her friends, when she was typically the person who tried to inspire hope, for she was the front man of her own band after all. 

Y/N could also sense— guessing by the way she mostly was turning her face from Luke— that it was a boy problem. Not that Luke’s jittery expression, or close proximity to her face was helping her open up either. 

Luke was trying to work on being more helpful in moments where his friends were in tears, but sometimes he could be a little too aggressive, or ‘extra,’ as Flynn would put it and Alex would agree, adding the new slang term to his vocabulary. 

Y/N took a seat in front of her on the ground, rubbing her friend's arm. “It’s okay, Jules. Nobody cares what you look like. You can tell us.” 

“I know, it’s just-“ she sucked her teeth, looking up, head still tilted to Flynn’s side. “It’s stupid.”

 “No ones going to judge you,” Y/N promised, pointing her head to Luke’s direction for Julie to see. 

“Yeah, and I bet it’s not ‘stupid’ anyway.” Flynn added.

“Nothings stupid if it made you cry, Jules.” Luke chimed in, finally agreeing with Flynn on something for the second time this night. “Who was it? I’ll beat them up for you.” He joked.

“Oh my god, no!” Julie tittered just a little while trying to wipe away all her tears. “And please never say something like that again. You sound like a dad.”

“Well he is supposed to be like 40 or something,” Flynn said, making the both of her best friends laugh. Julie specifically shook her head at this moment of Flynn and Luke’s typical banter, it was the first time she was getting a whiff of it tonight. Although she appreciated the entertainment they brought when in a room together, she agreed with Y/N that they were relentless. 

Luke let that one go, seeing how it finally brought a smile to the girl’s face, “There she is.”

Julie rolled her eyes at him, sighing as her fit of giggles passed, “Okay,” she started slowly, “Well... it was Nick… and I know it’s stupid-“

“-Not stupid.” Her friends finished.

“But you know, he invited me to this party. Directly! Said he wanted to hang out- to dance. When we came, the party just started so he had to say hi to people, that made sense, and he told me to stay near the main floor, so I waited. And then my shoe broke, and then some girl spilled some of that fondue on the bottom of my dress which I had to get out with bathroom wipes, so that was annoying. Then next thing you know it’s an hour later and all I’ve done is eat pizza and watch Flynn at the turntables…”

Julie went on. She explained that finally Nick showed up again , but as he was walking to her, Carrie had just arrived at the party, stopping him in his tracks. Apparently her gift was too heavy to bring inside, so she wanted to take him to her car to show him right then and there. “He said he’d be five minutes tops. Told me to come here by the fireplace, so again, I waited. Then five minutes turned into fifteen, so I got up.” She sidetracked, “That’s not me. Just sitting there, waiting, waiting, waiting. I felt dumb. That's when I walked to the backyard to see what was going on out there, find something to do after all this time, but funny enough that’s where I found Nick and Carrie, laughing, dancing, having a great time.” She wipes a new stray tear, “I decided to look for you,” she nodded to Y/N, “And it’s no offense Flynn, you know I love you, it’s just that I didn’t want to hear you tell me that ‘he’s not worth it’ at the moment.” She gave herself a pity laugh, “I’m currently feeling a little bad for myself as you can see.” 

“I’m so sorry Julie.” Y/N started. “But Flynn only tells you the facts like that because she thinks you’re so worthy of more.” 

“So much more,” Flynn added on, moving closer to Julie.

 “But I get it, it's not fair.” consoled Y/N. “I try to always consider his actions in those instances with Carrie as him just being a pacifist, but if he said he wanted to be with you and continuously told you he would, then he should’ve been here.”

“Agreed, but also, being a pacifist doesn’t mean to always stay quiet though, you can find a way to keep the peace and still do what’s right.” Luke spoke up. “He shouldn’t let Carrie always take him away like that.”

Y/N gave Luke a smile, “Insightful.”

“Strangely,” Flynn chimed in, “but exactly right. Not to mention how it’s not fair— no matter how nice he is— for him to just let Carrie keep saying whatever the hell she wants without calling her out.” 

“I just feel like I shouldn’t be so beat up. It is his birthday after all. He can do what he wants.” Muttered Julie.

“No!” Y/N told her. “You feel like you wasted your time, I get that! It’s his birthday, but your feelings are still important.” 

“Also,” Luke started, “Julie, I mean, come on! You could do so much better. So what? He’s like 18 now? Well I’m 18 now too, supposed to be 40 something apparently and I look like this! This! Compared to Nick?  Julie… girl!” He stated her name again, smiled wide, “I know Molina’s have better taste than that. Not to say what you didn’t want to hear, but, it’s true: he’s not worth it. Period.” He mimicked Flynn with the last word. 

Both Flynn and Julie gagged, “Oh my god,” they said in union. Y/N just put her face in her hands.

“You were actually doing well, and then you just go and screw it up like that?” Flynn sighed. 

“Now you went from a dad to sounding like a whole ratty teenage boy.” She rolled her eyes teasingly, trying to conceal her laughter at his conceited remark, “Disgusting.”

“Well as long as I got you to stop crying, that’s all that matters anyway.” He laughed goofily, invading her personal space once again. 

“Yeah,” Julie realized with a contented sigh. It seemed all the company she really needed was her friends. 

“Well, I think the only thing to do now is make up for all that time wasted, huh?”  Y/N spoke with a smirk. “If he doesn’t want to be your dance partner, it looks like you’re going to have to take on three instead.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Luke said, jumping up, grabbing Y/N and Julie’s hands and running to the dance floor.

Flynn called to the group, as she parted from them, heading to the stage, “Lemme change the song!” 

“OOOH!” Luke roared as the ooos and aahs of Donna and the Dynamos filled the room. “One of the best things to come out of the 2000s!” 

Julie and Y/N laughed at the surprisingly grand amount of love Luke had for Mamma Mia! 

Luke imitated the hustle, sticking his tongue out,  shaking his hips, and making Y/N dance along with him, moving around Julie who looked at them incredulously. 

“Come oooon,” he said to Julie’s direction, “Nobody can NOT like this song.” And after that Julie gave in, agreeing that a Mamma Mia and ABBA song was too good not to dance to. Flynn came up right behind her, making the dancing trio into a group of four. 

From jumping, to slides and shoulder grooves, and even forming their own little dancing circle the four lived in the song, seeing the last of Julie’s worry wash away as the speakers blasted the words “Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen,” to which Julie’s friends made sure to spotlight her on as their hands sprinkled up and down spirit fingers as she twirled, enjoying her title that fit perfectly with her age. 

“Thanks guys,” Julie smiled sweetly, still jumping to the beat.

“WOOOO!” Luke hollered into the crowd, taking Y/N’s hand, swaying and jumping with her exclusively now. 

“WOO!” She yelled back.

“LOUDER, LOUDER!” He yelled in her face, shaking his head, his hair imitating a lion’s mane as he gritted his teeth, getting closer to her face. 

“WOOOOO!” She yelled, trying to match her boyfriend’s energy. 

“YES, Y/N. WOOO!” They kept jumping and he spun her around, letting her twirl into his grasp. He held her closer, one arm tightly around her waist while the other still held her hand, stepping and swaying side to side in a fast pace in order to keep up with the quick musical tune. Her laughs of surprisement to his actions filled him with pride. She was usually so focused on making her friends smile, she could sometimes forget to just have fun for herself. She dropped anything to tend to their needs, which is why tonight was important. At her first party he was going to make her smile and have fun, and that ended with a New Year’s kiss. Hopefully, he could find a way to hide from Flynn— and his friends for that matter— till that time to make it happen. 

Finally the song died down and a rush of endorphins filled the floor as almost everyone in the area, even those who typically didn’t dance joined along to the jumping motion the four started at the beginning of the song. “Should I change it?” Flynn asked Julie as the next song started, noticing how different the vibe of this song was from the last: slower, more romantic.

“No,” Julie told Flynn as she watched Luke take his arms closer into Y/N’s sides, “Let’s let them have their moment.”

Y/N arms went around Luke’s neck, and his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling each other closer while swaying in a circular motion. He connected their foreheads. His eyes fixated on her own. They were so gentle, so sweet, so comforting, he felt safe looking in them. He could stay that way forever.

“Luke?”

Luke sighed, once again just minutes of feeling release ruined. “Yeah, bud?” It was Alex. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, but this kid Reginald-“ 

“Don’t tell me he lost the dog again. I don’t want to look for it.”

“It’s not the dog! Well, not this time. I think he’s finally realized that we can’t take it home with us. It’s-“ Alex started snickering which then turned into great belly laughs he couldn’t stop, “I just- I can’t- I can’t- just please,” he had no control. “Please I need your help!”

“What the hell, Alex?”

“Just-“ Alex put his hand over his mouth, trying to conceal his laughs. He motioned Luke with his other hand, walking away. 

Luke kept his hand in Y/N’s, bringing her along with him, “I don’t want to get split up again, like last time with the dog.”

“It’s not the dog!” Alex exclaimed, still laughing. 

The three were now on the right side of the house, near the pool door that also stood to the right and in the area sat a couch and pool table. The wall on the left side had a small vent near the floor which is where they found Reggie, hip deep in the square hole.

“HELLO!” Reggie wagged his butt, for his friends to see, “Did you bring Luke?”

“Yeah!” Alex answered “Do you see now? He’s stuck!”

“How and why?!” Y/N asked, now joining in with Alex’s uncontrollable laughter as Reggie kept shaking his butt. Quickly Luke couldn’t help himself either.

“No! Y/N is here?” Reggie asked, “Y/N I’m so sorry you have to see me like this. I haven’t been doing my squats recently. I know I don’t look in the best of shape-“

“I think that’s the last thing I’m worried about, Reg,” Y/N said, still losing her breath along with Alex who yelled an incredulous ‘what?!’ at his words. 

“No one cares about your glutes, bro.” Luke shook his head, laughing with the two. 

“Well I do!” Reggie fought back. “I don’t wear these skinny jeans for nothing!”

Alex’s laughter from Reggie’s wackiness turned into one of apprehension. “Well there are more important things to worry about! Like my date being almost two hours late and also how I don’t even know what to say to him because I haven’t seen him in like two months and it's New Year’s Eve and yeah, okay, okay- Stop shaking your ass!”

“Okay,” Y/N held his shoulders, still losing her breath, “Willie is going to come, alright?  It'll be fine, but-“

“Let’s deal with gluteus minimus first.” Luke finished.

“That’s not even-“

“I don’t care.” Luke finished for Alex this time. “I’ll take the right leg, Alex, take the left. Pull!”

Ow! Ow! Ow!” Reggie yelped.

“PULL!”

“Ow! Stop!” 

“It’s going to hurt till we get you out, Reg” Alex explained. “And why isn’t Y/N helping?”

“Oh, sorry,” She was caught up in the hysterics. 

“Oh that’s right,” Luke noticed. “Take the right, I’ll hold onto his feet and pull from the back. On three. 1, 2, 3, PULL!”

“WAIT!” Reggie yelled.

“WHAT?” Alex yelled back.

“Luke said on three, but you pulled at ‘pull’, or really after pull, so is it really ‘on three’ or do you want it to be ‘on pull’ or ‘after three’ or ‘after pull’?”

Alex shook his head, “Does it matter?!”

Reggie’s voice cracked, “Just asking!”

“Okay, ON pull!” Luke clarified, “1,2,3, PULL”

“NO! WAIT!”

“WHAT?!” The three pullers yelled. 

“I felt a tear in my jacket, I love this jacket.”

“Oh god,” the boys complained.

“I think it’s just going to have to tear for us to get you out,” Y/N told him. 

“But you gave it to me!” Y/N heard the sadness in his voice. It was a brown leather jacket with long strands of fringe on either side. She thought it went perfectly with his banjo and love for country music. It also had big inside pockets that could hold all his little treasures, and whatever he had in his pocket today is probably the reason why it was so hard to get him out. 

“Maybe Victoria knows a good dry cleaner that can give us a discount,” she reasoned. 

“Tía does always have very nicely pressed clothes,” Reggie agreed, as an honorary Molina— self appointed, but appreciated by most— he felt that it was okay to address Victoria as such. 

“Yeah,” She laughed at his words, “So are you going to tell me how you got stuck?”

“Well I knew there was going to be a pool table here so I brought my lucky gold eight ball-” Reggie had a lucky every- “And it kind of just fell in here.”

Alex corrected him, “You mean you were getting too cocky at the game and knocked the ball so hard that it fell in there.”

“Potatoes, tomatoes, uh, spaghetti! It doesn't matter now, I got my ball and now I need you guys to help me get out.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Luke nodded, “You ready Reg?”

“...No!”

“You want to make out with the rats? They have diseases.” Alex sarcastically noted.

“They’re misunderstood creatures!” Reggie stated on their behalf. Reggie’s butt buzzed, “Oh that's my phone, that feels weird, “ he laughed. 

“Phone!’ Alex's eyes widened, “Where’s my phone?” He dropped Reggie’s leg

“Alex!” Luke exclaimed want to get this over with.

“Willie texted, he said he’ll be here in thirty- thirty minutes!” 

“Anything else,” Y/N asked.

“He’s excited to spend the New Years with me” He said softly, unsurely.

“That's great.” Everyone agreed, happy for the boy. 

“Are you going to text back?” Y’N asked excitedly, happy with the idea of Alex’s romance coming to life. 

“Oh yeah!” Alex’s face faltered, “Shit. It just died.”

“Just get Reggie’s,” Luke shrugged, “But after we get him out!”

After 3 more tries at “ON PULLS,” Alex, Luke, and Y/N were able to get Reggie out, only tearing his jacket on the left side.

“Thanks guys” Reggie said appreciatively. 

As Luke patted Reggie back Alex spoke: “Um, hey, Y/N?” He asked quietly, hands in his pocket, “Mind if I steal you for a second?”

“Sure,” she smiled sweetly at him, turning the corner so they could have a little bit of privacy. 

“I’m nervous.” He sighed, “ I already spoke to Luke about it before we left for tonight, so he’s already given me all the inspiration he’s got, but I’m still not sure of it all… He took the whole coming back to life hard, but I didn’t think he would take it so hard that he would separate himself from us, from me. ” The boy frowned. 

“I think he really liked being a ghost,” Y/N started.

“Yeah and we ruined his whole life,”

“We didn’t ruin his life, we saved it. He’s free, just like you guys. And…” Y/N trailed off trying to find the words, “Hm, well, I think he was just a ghost so long it became a part of his identity, and now that part left him, it must’ve been hard to take in. Should he have been more verbal about needing space? Yes. You deserved that. If you want to tell him that, you should, especially if it’ll help relieve whatever thoughts you’ve got suck up there. I’m sure he will be apologetic if you ask calmly, try to see it from his perspective. And that way he can be empathetic to your perspective as well, you know? On the other hand, you can also take this New Year in stride and just like go to the past and have a good time with him. Or do both!” She put an arm on his shoulder, giving him a warm closed smile. 

He nodded taking in her words, trying to remember what she said as she said it.

“You got this, okay? What does Luke say? Step into your greatness?”

“Heh,” he laughed, “Greatness is usually for Julie, awesomeness is mine, not saying that I am awesome though, it’s- it’s just what he says.”

“Well it’s because it’s true. You’re awesome, Alex. Just be open hearted and your awesomeness will shine through.”

“But.. how?”

“Didn’t I- Never mind. Okay, from what I know, Willie already knows you, and likes you, and enjoys talking to you, so there are no awkward first encounters to be made. You’ll see him and all you need to do is be prepared to say hi, that is unless you want to talk to him about the past, and then it will go off from there. I feel it ending up well, I promise. And even if it doesn’t? Show him the food. Everyone loves food.”

“Hi- maybe past- food- got it.” He turned, but Y/N quickly grabbed him. 

“Wait, but don’t just think about that. Remember: He’s coming because he wants to see YOU. He wants to spend New Years with YOU. That’s what his message said right?”

“Right.” It seemed Alex forgot. 

“So believe it. Live in that message.” 

“Okay,” he started to smile lightly, though still a little wearily. “Thanks… He wants to see me, he WANTS to see me, live in it.” He repeated her words. 

Alex gave her Reggie’s phone, asking her to message Willie one last time stating that he would be waiting for him by the front of the house by the band’s van. She did so and turned the corner hoping to find both Reggie and Luke, but unfortunately the latter person was not in sight. 

“Reg, where’s Luke?”

“Y/N! Meet Amelie Laurent,” Reggie introduced the girl sitting next to him, imitating a French accent as he said her name. “She’s a foreign exchange student from France. She likes my jacket.” He said with a smirk. 

Y/N guessed he didn’t hear her question.

“Nice to meet you,” the girl said giggling at Reggie’s antics. “Comment tu t’appelles?” She asked.

“Uh, yes.” Y/N stared blankly, watching the girls face fall, “I’m just kidding, it’s Y/N. I know that much at least.” Both you and the girl laughed. 

“Aw look, my girls getting along!” 

“Your girl?” Amelie questioned.

“Well maybe not yet,” Reggie winked while wiggling a brow. 

“You should get Luke and come hang out with me and Miss Amelie Laurent.” Reggie once again pronounced her name with the most fake sounding French accent he could muster, having fun with how the name rolled off his tongue. 

“Speaking of that,” Y/N handed him his phone, “Do you know where he went?”

“Well he didn’t go through the pool door because that’s where my Amelie Laurent came from, so I’m guessing back there,” Reggie pointed his thumb behind him.

“Alright, then I guess I’m going that way. Nice to meet you Miss Amelie.” She giggled, attempting her own French accent.

-

About 10 minutes had passed. Y/N had walked around to the backyard, upstairs to some rooms, to the dance floor, the kitchen, stopping along the way when Julie and Flynn caught her in their sight till she found herself back by the pool table. Reggie’s banjo and doggy friend was present but not he nor his lady friend, or Luke. Y/N wondered if she should finally try the pool door till she heard a sound, a voice actually. As she walked down the hallway she was just minutes before, she heard his voice. 

It was Luke, his tones muffled by the music and talking inside, but she could hear it, it filled her senses, making her heart flutter to hear his singing as it belted a tune much more soulful then the usual pop or rock songs the band sang. He was outside, in the backyard, one of the first places she looked. As she almost reached the back door, she was pushed rather harshly, by someone with wheels, skateboard wheels. 

“Whoa! Sorry!” It was Willie. “You’re Y/N right?” He smiled, running his fingers through his hair as he took off his helmet. “I know we’ve never really spoken, but we know of each other.”

“We do,”  Y/N said pleasantly. 

“I’m glad I finally found one of you, I’m totally lost.”

“Well I think Luke was just outside there, actually.”

“Oh really? God I was going so fast I wasn’t even thinking. Or looking would be correct, right? Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there, sometimes I still think I’ll just go through people. Can’t believe I have to walk indoors now.” He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Life of the living,” she tried to joke, “I’m sorry. I know it must be strange.”

“Yeah, better than being under Caleb though.”

“Right,” Y/N nodded. 

“Oh, sorry,” 

“No don’t be. I’ll never know him like you did. No emotional tie here.”

“Um,” An awkward silence erupted, “So since you’re the only one in the group I’ve found you want to play a game?” 

“A game?” She asked, confused.

“Yeah!” He raised his brow.

“And what game would this be?” 

“The Where’s Alex game. If you have the answer I’ll love you forever. I already know I’m super late.”

“Oh!” she laughed at the realization, “He’s at the front! You didn’t see him? Or see the text?”

“My phone died,” He pulled out the device as proof, the glass was severely cracked, “I’m not sure how to properly take care of it as you can see. No wonder I make it die so fast.”

“His phone died too, strangely enough. But he’s waiting for you at the front entrance. You didn’t come from that way?”

“No, I didn’t know if someone would stop me if I went that way because I wasn’t actually invited. I never really did this kind of thing in the past. It’s my first time.” 

“Really? It’s my first too, but for you? You seem so cool to me to never be invited.”

“Well the actual definition of cool and high schoolers definition of cool is wildly different. We’re obviously a different breed, you and I. Better.” He joked. 

“Well thank you.” She could tell why Willie liked him. “Alex is by the white van, it has ghosts painted all over it so you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you!”

“Of course!”

As he was about to walk away, skateboard in hand, he stopped, “Can I be honest?”

“Sure.” She smiled nodding at him to continue.

“I’m a little nervous. I know that’s his thing so I should try to get over it, but I can’t help it. This not being a ghost thing has been hard, you know? Is he mad? I didn’t mean to separate myself…” he faultured. Although Y/N knew Alex’s half of the story, Willie and her were still newly acquainted, it made sense why he felt the need to stop himself from possibly over sharing. 

“He can’t wait to see you.” She reassured him, ending the silence. “It’s literally why he decided to stay by the front. He wanted you to find him right away. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?”

She confirmed, “Absolutely positive.”

“Alright, thanks again. And nice to meet you! You know, not just by me peering through windows and being creepy. Sorry.”

“Ghosts will be ghosts.” Y/N shrugged. She watched as Willie gave her a laugh and started to walk away. 

“Y/N,” the sweet voice from the backyard called for her again, this time saying her name.

“Luke,” her eyes brightened, turning around.

“Found you.” He grinned, intertwining their fingers on both sides. 

“Well really I would have found you first. I heard your voice, from the backyard, but Willie stopped me before I could go.”

“Ah, you heard my call for you.”

“For me?” He hummed in response.

“I’ll pretend that’s true.” 

“Good,” Luke brought one of her hands up to his lips, kissing it softly. “So where have you been in the last twenty?”

“Well I was looking for you. Reggie said you didn’t go through the pool door so-“

“I did.”

You did?”

“I did! He probably didn’t mention it because he was so focused on-

“Miss Amelie Laurent!” You both said in unison, French accents prevalent. 

“He said you went back here so I went to the backyard, but you weren’t there, so I went upstairs back to Nick room, and you don’t want to know what I saw in there-”

“Ooo tell me,”  his eyes were eager.

“Anyway, I went back down stairs, found Julie near the kitchen— we shared a cupcake— and then she asked me if I would go to the dance floor with her and find someone to talk to so I did that, but then Flynn can said she lost her bracelet so we three had to look for that one, then I came back to the pool table, heard you singing, bumped into Willie, asked me where Alex was, and then I think he needed some advice— he and Alex are literally having the same problem, it’s kind of cute— and then you finally came. That’s my story.”

Luke's mouth was open, eyes going around in a circle as she went on her tangent, hanging onto every word, he thought it was pretty adorable. “Well, my story is much shorter. When I picked Reggi up, you disappeared.”

“Oh, Alex asked me to speak to him, all we did was turn the corner.”

“I didn’t know, but then some guy from the pool came up to me asked me if I could show him some cords from a phantom song and before I could say yes he was pushing me out the door. I helped him, went back inside, met Miss Amelie Laurent, walked to the backyard because Reggie said you went that way, and there I stayed.”

“If only I went back.”

“We’re good now.” Though a smile still ghosted his face he felt a sudden suppression wash over him, “Are you having fun, Y/N/N?”

“I- Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know… I just know it’s your first party here and I wanted you to have a good time, but at every second someone needs you, or someone needs me, and we’ve been pulled around and around and around,-“ Luke moves his head left to right, a rasp in his voice like a motor engine as he repeated the word for effect, “-that I feel like you’re not letting yourself get into some trouble like everyone else.”

“Trouble?”

“Lack of a better word,” he smiled smugly. “I’m just saying, you’re not Julie and the Phantoms glorified assistant-”

“Neither are you. You’ve done just as much as me tonight.” She reasoned. 

“Yeah, but that’s because I was trying to stick with you and lessen the load. You know you do so much for us all the time.”

“I guess I just like you guys too much.” she shrugged, matching his playful tone from before.

“Like just me a little bit more then.” He moved closer, placing his fingers on her jaw, “Hmm?”

He finally kissed her, a real kiss this time. His other hand moved to her neck as her hands moved to his arms. The hand on her jaw lifted her chin higher, deepening the action.

“People are watching,” she said through a breath, eyes alert. 

Before going back in he said, “No one's watching,” Then after a peck, “And no one cares.” His hands slid to her waist, head tilting to the other side, he hummed, causing Y/N’s hands to fall to his cheeks, quickly sliding her fingers against his chest; she was lost in the moment. 

Slowly Luke’s feet moved backwards, moving one of the hands that was wrapped around his waist to her hip as he motioned her against the wall. “Ow,” Y/N yelped, the black and blue Flynn gave her earlier pulsing again. 

Luke’s hand came to her head, cushioning it against the wall. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“So did I,” she laughed. 

The both smiled at each other, Luke forehead connecting with hers, he rubbed his nose against her own etching more bits of laughter out of her. He relished in the noises, the closeness, the feeling. 

Looking down he noticed their shoes, Y/N’s original chucks in the middle of both vans. He didn’t care what shoes she wore, but he much appreciated how she had to change her footwear for Julie because now they matched… somewhat. The black and white pallets, but different designs; similar, but different; individuals, but connected. He liked it. “Nice shoes, kid.”

“Thanks,” she laughed, “Not what I originally intended, but they work.”

“Work better, in my opinion.” He moved back, extending her arms out as he held her hands. He was surveying how her black dress with white polka dots perfectly matched the color scheme of the converse. “Perfect.”

Once again she blushed, but didn’t respond. Instead she made a remark about his own shoes. “You know, I don’t understand how you wear those everyday, yet they aren’t all dirty like mine.”

“Well I used to be a ghost, when I was walking my feet weren’t actually treading on the Earth.” 

“Well that was three months ago.”

“Almost three months ago,” he corrected, for that’s when their official relationship started. Luke always thought she was pretty, right from the moment he saw her, but it wasn’t love at first sight, not even like. She was a little quiet, at least with him and the boys and they all noticed. With Julie and Flynn she smiled brightly and chatted constantly, or that’s what he would hear when he would come to Julie’s room, hearing her voice through the door. It was a sweet voice, empathetic, understanding; he thought it sounded like music, and not only did he wonder how his name would sound on her lips, but he felt connected to it. He understood the desire to make others feel good. Through his singing he tried to make people feel seen, make their problems validated, and he could tell she tried to do that with her words. 

For Y/N at first, she wanted Julie to have the band for herself. She thought that this was one of the few things making her feel happy during this dark time of Tía Rose’s passing, so she didn’t want to step in too much, not to mention the realization that she could see ghosts wasn’t exactly the easiest things for her to get her head around the way Julie did. But her elusiveness only made Luke more curious, and when Luke was curious, he was persistent in finding out whatever it was he wanted to know. 

First, he would ask Julie to bring Y/N down for their rehearsals and she would, sometimes, but nothing gave. Y/N would most give Julie feedback, shying away from the ghosts gaze, still unsure how to interact. Then, he just started asking Julie about her cousin, little questions here and there till Julie finally got tired and told him to just go talk to her himself. This is where he was at a stand still as he was unsure how to approach her. Finally, after noticing how her room lights would shine quite far into the night, he decided to go up there, telling himself he would just ask her why she sleeps so late, that he only noticed because he likes to take walks at night. It sounded reasonable to him. 

This is when he realized how similar Molina’s are: Always trying to be brave for others. After she told him she always had trouble falling asleep unless it was specifically her bed at home, but didn’t want to tell anyone else because it would bother them. She wanted to stay here for Julie and for the friendships she was finally making at Los Feliz, so Luke decided to start a tradition with her: late night bike rides. It was a way to tire her out and a way for him to get some alone time with her. Him taking a bike from the garage, and her using her own she brought from her old home. They rode separately, but together, letting the quiet road open them up to the other. Telling each other stories, discussing interests, consoling each other when they were feeling down. Luke never knew how close you could feel to someone else by just conversation until he had to do it with Y/N. It made him appreciate her in a way he’d never felt before. 

They were not friends, they knew that fairly quickly, but they didn’t hurt each other by talking about being more. It was just an unspoken agreement that they hung out with each other exclusively in the way that they did, but they never spoke of romantics. Their rides were special, only for them. That’s why when he became alive the first thing he wanted to do, after celebrating with everyone, was take a ride with her. One bike this time. Her heels on the bars and she heads onto his shoulders, showing her where he used to grow up. That’s what he always wanted to do. 

“Not enough time,” Luke said in response to Y/N who mentioned that wearing the same two pairs of shoes for 3 months had to have made them a little messed up, but he was talking about them, thinking about how short of a time ago it was that he got got be with her this way. It was a long year of just knowing her without the sense of touch. He felt lucky. Once again, he dipped his hands on the side of her face, starting to go in till-

“Hey, Y/N! And oh, Luke! Hey man.” It was the New Years Eve birthday boy.

“Oh, hey, Nick,” Y/N said, maintaining a kind disposition although she knew how his actions made Julie feel. 

“Um,” he laughed awkwardly at Luke’s stoicism, it was unnatural for his character and even Nick knew that by now, “Well I was wondering if you knew where Julie was. I’ve been looking for her everywhere.”

“Really?” Luke questioned.

“Yeah, I promised her a dance,” he laughed, “or really she promised me one because we all know I suck.”

Y/N laughed kindheartedly at his deprecation. She was still trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Carrie does have a dominating attitude, and with someone as tender Nick it would make sense that he got roped into whatever it was even at his own party, but looking at Luke’s face and knowing how she felt earlier, she decided to to be upfront, “Look Nick, you don’t have to say anything, but I think you like Julie, and I don’t know if Julie likes you, but let’s say she does: You’re sending mixed signals. I get you and Carrie have a history and that she can be bossy, but you make your own choices. If you want to hang out with a certain someone, I think you should put your foot down and make it a priority to do that.” She tried to be ambiguous, obviously failing throughout. 

Nick sighed, “I know… I have no excuse. But that’s why I’ve been trying to find her. I want to hang out with her, do a- I don’t know-“

“‘I don’t know?’” Luke intervened, restating his words, unsure about the possible actions behind them.

“I mean like... New Year's kiss, I- don’t laugh at me Y/N!”

“No! I think it’s sweet. I'm only laughing because I’ve understood your pain, Nick.”

Nick laughed alongside her albeit he was still mostly laughing at himself. Luke kept his grumpy face, eyebrows twitching. “Well if that’s what you want, go get it before the Carrie snatches you up again”

“But even if she does,” Luke started. 

“Put your foot down.” Y/n finished “You know, Stand Tall, like the phantoms song.”

“‘Whatever happens’  he snickered, waving his finger as he said the lyric in hopes to ease the tension with Luke, but he was not amused. 

“Exactly,” Y/N smiled, paying her boyfriend's chest. 

“Right,” Luke agreed, he was really only saying it for Y/N. “Nice basketball sheets by the way”

“Hey, come on, my dad got those for me. It’s nostalgic, you know? Anyway, so I know you guys were busy and I’m sorry that I interrupted anything, but do you think you could help me find her? I really want to find her.”

“Listen Nick,�� Luke started once again, it was getting late and he still had a plan he wanted to maintain. 

“Y/N! So there’s this gu- Nick, oh-“

“Julie, I’ve been looking for you!” Nick exclaimed, happy to see her. 

“You have?”

“Apparently,” Luke answered. 

“Well Nick, actually I-“

“Wait. Julie, wait. I- um, I was also looking for all you phantoms actually. I mean I was going to find you and talk to you first and the ask about this later but hey two out of the four are here so,”

“What are you talking about?” Julie asks, hoping he’d get to the point.

“I was wondering if you could play a song? Just one. I don’t have a bass but I’ve got a drum kit on stage already and I’ve got plenty of electrics. The party’s coming to a close and I thought this would be one last thing to bring it all together to make a great night. I know it’s last minute,”

“Nick-“

“Julie.” He stopped, stumbling with his words, till he finally felt sure of what to say, “I’m beating around the bush. What I really need to say is I’m sorry for leaving you. You’re the only one I wanted to hang out with tonight. Carrie- Carrie’s just lonely. If I’m being honest and I promise I don’t mean this in a rude way, but Kayla is just more of her henchman. I know we used to date so it looks strange, but I think I’m her only friend right now. She bought a really grand present and took me away to show it to me, that’s all. I should have stopped to speak to you first though. That’s on me.”

Julie looked down, nodding, “I appreciate that.” 

“You don’t have to sing and you don’t have to give me any more of your time tonight if you don’t want to. I’m just glad you’re here either way.” 

“I don’t mind hanging out with you... if you actually stick around this time-“

“I will!”

“But singing? I guess I’ll leave that one to you Luke.” Julie said, noticing his expression, lips scrunched up together.

“I- It’s your choice, Jules. Whatever you want.” He said lessening the intensity that was in his eyes, Nick did do what Y/N said after all. 

“Let’s sing then. This party has been a little hectic and I think we all need to get our emotions out. Let the New Year come in with good vibes. Right, buddy?” She said tapping Luke’s cheek. “Y/N, help me find the others?”

“Sure,” she said with a sympathetic smile to Luke who she noticed didn’t seem to enjoy that little buddy comment, nonetheless, she joined in: “See ya soon, buddy,” Y/N laughed, letting the ends of her finger tips brush against his till she was pulled away by Julie.

-

On stage, Julie and the Phantoms rose, singing Finally Free. It had become quite the party anthem for them. The repetition in the chorus made it such a good song for them to engage with the audience. Every time Julie sang ‘I got a spark in me’ the crowd would sing back, throwing their hands up in the process quite literally making the next lyric, ‘hands up if you’re with me’ come true in the most perfect way.

Y/N wished she brought her camera, instead she opted to take out her phone, taking some iPhone shots of the band, hoping the fans would enjoy these raw candid pictures, but then Luke caught her attention through the screen, he sent her a wink, one that the people in front of her probably thought was for them. As he strummed his guitar he yelled a ‘WOOO’ her way, bouncing with Reggie. Y/N decided to put her phone down. This performance was a New Years special, one to only be viewed in person; in the moment; no thinking of anyone else. Finding Flynn in the crowd who was also trying to catch some snapshots of her own, Y/N passed on the energy Luke had given to her: “Lets just have fun!” 

- 

Soon after, the song had ended, and despite not being the ‘hologram band’ anymore the Phantoms vanished from the stage, still giving the audience chills as Julie was the one last standing, thanking everyone for being such a great audience. When the gang realized the guys still had some ghosting abilities, Julie wondered if they should stop the whole disappearing thing, saying it would be harder for people to believe, but honestly, seeing the guys at school, at this party, and still watching them turn to dust when the music and cheering ended still amazed the crowd and made it just that more of a spectacle; no one cared for reason, it was simply that cool to see. 

Y/N hoped Luke would pop up alongside her, saving her the hassle of searching for him again, but alas, he did not. It made sense to her though, for she was right in the middle of the dancefloor. 

She decided to travel back around to the hallway where Nick and Julie had stopped her and Luke before. Walking down the hall, a hand snaked around her arm, pull her into a small closet under the staircase. “What the-” She stopped herself as she looked up and the light illuminated the small area with a click and a pull. Her eyes traveled slowly from the buttery yellow glow of the small light, the hand which pulled on the silvery chord, the shimmering skin of Luke, whose eyes followed her gaze till she met his own. “Howdy.” 

“Hey there, partner” she said softy, small breathy giggles coming out of her. “Nice hat.”

“Why thank you, pretty lady,” he responded with a wink, tipping the brown leathered cowboy hat he’d found.

“So what are we doing in here?” She asked, watching him take off the hat.

“Wanna play seven minutes in heaven?” 

“Like in 13 going on 30? Is that the kind of game you played in your 90s parties?” 

Luke rolled his eyes at her comment, moving on, “I decided that our friends are not going to leave us alone tonight, so I want just seven minutes. No interruptions, just us.” 

“I’d like that.”

Luke took out his phone starting a timer on his phone, “Yeah,” he nodded as he moved closer to her face, “me too.”

Lips on her own, he moved his hand to the back of her head, remembering her black and blue and he softly placed it against the wall of the small space, removing it once there. 

As her head leaned eagerly against it, the rest of her body was slanted, legs in between his own, he moved his arms to her waist, hands going up her back, while hands went up to his neck, going in to play with his hair. 

“Y/N?”

The sound caused her to jump, banging her head for the third time. “Ow.” 

It was Flynn. 

“Luke!” 

It was Reggie. 

Now Julie came over, “Is Y/N and Luke in there? Guys?!” H-“

“No!” Luke yelled. 

“Hey!” It was Alex, hand in hand with Willie. “Are they coming out? It’s-“

“Five minutes!” Luke yelled out again. He slid out his phone from underneath the door. “In fact, reset it to seven, give us seven.” 

Reggie took phone, “But Luke you didn’t notice the ti-“ 

Luke bagged on the door, “When it rings, that’s when you can give us your requests.”

Y/N covered her mouth, giggling at his aggressive tone. 

“Come here,” he motioned her with his hands on her hips, lips once again reconnected. As they started to move backward again, Luke moved his hands higher, picking her up, motioning her to wrap her legs around her waist, Y/N tried to catch her breath as their lips fell a part in the action, “Not this time,” he whispered in her ear, the vibrations of his voice making her shiver. He crashed his lips onto hers again as his hands went lower on his hips, supporting her on his frame. He swiped his tongue on her lower lip in an attempt to deepen the kiss further. Thereafter, their lips were connected in open mouth kisses, Luke taking control of the action.

“We just wanted to say Happy New Years, it’s 12:03.” Reggie uttered quietly at the bottom of the door, petting Nick’s dog that found him again. Y/N and Luke didn’t answer him, he figured they were too busy engrossed in each other. 

“Happy New Years, beautiful.” Luke sang to Y/N, sighing out, admiring the way her eyes looked into his, realizing that he completed his mission after all.  

“Happy New Years, Luke.” She breathed out, planting her lips on his once more. One hand on the side of his face as the other went back to his hair, rejoicing in their closeness, finally, uninterrupted.

- 

Thank you for reading! 

Tag list: @lolychu​ @marinettepotterandplagg​

[kiranogareru]

DON'T

WARNING: Angst, Bakusquad boys being assholes, violence, bullying, cursing, toxicity

A/N: 3rd person view, this is the first of a few one-shots to come, that will be improved versions of my old imagines on my Wattpad!

'Another day at my most favourite place, UA Hero Academy!' You thought sarcastically

Better known as another day of bullshit you have to endure...

You still don't have a clue how you made it through two years of this already, but it's not like it matters, as long as you are in one piece!

Your time here has been..eventful? Well that's that's one way to put it, for lack of a better word

You are walking to the cafeteria alone as per usual, praying you won't be noticed by them. Unfortunately they are already there, waiting for you to show up, like animals waiting patiently to pounce on their prey and even though the place is packed with students of all classes and departments, they somehow still spot you in the sea of people!

"Awww there she is!" Kaminari mocked using a 'cute' tone and grabbing you by the arm to bring you in the middle of the group

"You made us wait today, not manly at all!" Kirishima feigned sadness and hurt, placing a hand on his chest

"Don't be so hard on her guys. Maybe she forgot where we were meeting" Sero cooed, cupping your face with one hand and applying pressure

The look in his eyes made you uneasy, because you know exactly what is going to happen next. You've gotten used to it by now

"Today has been sooo boring" Kaminari complained

"But that's why Y/N is here man! To make our day better!" Kirishima cheers, balling up his fists and doing his signature pose

To anyone watching you, this seemed like nothing but a normal conversation, but you know better..

"You better get out of here, you damn idiots" Bakugou's voice grumbled from behind you

The words almost filled you with hope, making you momentarily forget who spoke them in the first place and making you feel like a fool for thinking that way

Bakugou was like a leading figure to these guys, so why would he put you above his friends?

If anything, he is only scolding them because there's too many eyes around and they don't want witnesses!

That thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. This is the next generation of heroes? It's just so hard to believe.. it's truly appalling!

Bakugou stayed behind 'most likely to avoid suspicion' you figured

The rest of the boys drag you outside, to a spot you have grown familiar with ever since you were a freshman. It's beside the main building, a place typically void of students or teachers!

They chose this place because they know they won't get in trouble, since this is also a blind spot for the cameras in this area!

Kirishima shoves you to the ground, which Sero takes as a sign to bind your hands and tape your mouth shut, so they can start playing their favourite game with you

A game they like to call "How long until Y/N breaks"

It doesn't take long for the first kick to fly straight to your abdomen, followed by another and a few more..they add a few punches here and there to switch up the pattern

They don't want this to get boring too quickly, of course not! They want to have fun with it..because this is their sick idea of 'fun'!

Kirishima rips the tape from your mouth, since it was starting to peal off with all the blood and spit that had started coating it!

You feel weak, you can't even activate you fucking quirk to try and defend youself! Everything hurts, but what the fuck can you really do at this point?

Hopelessness, defeat, they managed to beat into you, all the things you hate being! They have driven you to a point where you hate yourself, because of what they made you!

'How am I supposed to be a hero, if I can't even save my damn self?'

'I don't stand a chance against them anyway, they have made that very clear, since the first day we met and every time after that'

"Please stop!" You plead over and over, but there is no use however

"Why do you keep doing this?" You let out a pained cry, but the only response you get is in the form of more hits

They are treating you like a sand bag and you don't even know why. You wonder what you could have done to them to deserve this

At some point they stop and a wave of relief washes over you as you think this nightmare is finally coming to an end.

That illusion completely shatters when you hear the voice of someone you know all-too-well and realize why they stopped to begin with, but you don't have time to process anything else, because Bakugou knocks you out!

•••

Your eyes flutter open, the first thing you see being your boyfriend of nearly a year, Bakugou Katsuki!

You take in your surroundings and sit up.

'Was I brought to Recovery Girl?' You question yourself, as your right hand comes up to your head, due to a pounding headache

"Baby are you alright?" He asked, reaching his hand out to touch your cheek

"Don't" Your tone coming off quite threatening, while your fragile figure tries to get up

Your knees give out and Bakugou is quick to catch you and hold you up!

"I'm sorry baby!" He repeats the same words you've been hearing since you first started dating!

"Get the fuck off of me! Let go!" You demand, clawing at his exposed arms in an attempt to squirm out of his grip

He let's go of you and you get yourself back on the bed

He looks at you with so much sorrow in his crimson eyes, but all that does is vex you further, makes you hate him! You can't stand to even look at him anymore!

The sight of his face makes your stomach twist, his presence alone causing your blood to boil and your knuckles to ache for some action!

You're barely able to hold back right now, because looking at him has suddenly become a reminder of an agreement he convinced you to make..

His lips part, but before he can utter another disgusting, half-assed apology, you shut him up!

"No more apologies Katsuki, no more fucking lies, I don't wanna hear it anymore! I've really had enough! I just can't take it!" You stated in an ice-cold manner

"I'm sorry ok?! I couldn't do anything, it's not up to me, I can't tell them what to do! Yes, they look up to me, but I can't control them!"

Can he not hear what bullshit is coming out of him mouth? Can he not hear himself right now?

This is the only thing going through your head at the moment

"I can't stop all of a sudden, they can't know we're dating!" Katsuki says, directing his gaze to the floor

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Without a second thought your hand makes contact with his cheek, the smack echoing throughout the room

A visible, red patch in the shape of your palm forms, as he lifts his head up to meet your burning gaze once more. His expression holds complete and utter disbelief!

"You said that once we got together this would stop, you promised, but it seems like you don't want it to stop! Are you enjoying it Bakugou? Do you get off at the sight of me breaking?" You asked , well aware of the fact that you're not ready for his answer, but wanting to hear it nevertheless

"I swear I will talk to them, I just need a little more time and then-!" You cut his rambling short

"It's always the same shit with you! Spewing fake promises! This time it won't work Bakugou, I don't have the strength to do this anymore! And I don't want to waste my love and time on someone who beats me so people don't associate me with him, someone who goes to this extent so he won't be seen with me!" You confess

"I'll chan-"

"Don't say it, because it's not true and you know that! You always tell me you'll change, but you don't even try!"

"I don't enjoy seeing you in pain, I just can't stop! I've been doing this for so long, I don't know how to be anything else. But I never meant to hurt you!" He finally answered your question

"If you don't want to hurt me, you'll leave me alone! I want to be away from this so called 'relationship', it's not healthy! I need a break!" You reason

"It's not a break if you never come back to me..it's a break up!" He lowers his head once more, hair falling over his eyes, as he speaks calmly

"Come back to you? As if" You scoff, laughing out

He doesn't dare speak, he is simply staring at you, with shocked, red orbs!

"You should have stayed with the League of Villains when you had the chance! That's where 'heroes' like you belong!" You eyes shoot daggers at him,

"Now get the fuck out, you Sludge-Bastard!" You demand, using the name he hates even more than the one Midoriya calls him

He is in tears, as he leaves the school's infirmary

It isn't so much because things ended between you as it is the weight of your words!

Bakugou processes what just happened, wearing a blank expression, while he walks through the halls of UA, tears still streaming freely!

Seems like he put a lot of thought into what you told him, because the next thing you know, a new villian makes his debut

[madamescarlette]

Oh did I ever tell you I think Forever Winter is THE Percy and Keyleth song because I may have but I'm not sure and you should know?

GRACIE MY DARLINGEST DEAR 💖💖💖💖💖💖

So it's entirely possible that you did tell me this at some point because it sparked a tiny recognition in my brain somewhere (faaaar in the back amidst all the cabinets of things that were said by people I love that I Must scribble down because it's important and always will be) but if you sent it to me last spring-ish it may have become buried in my brain because that season was a haze of things!

BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. I'm always a little bit overemotional about Percy and his relationships with all the girls in his life, but there issss some particular quality about him and Kiki that GETS TO ME. Part of it is that Taliesin and Marisha obviously are very dear friends, and that bleeds into everything they do together, but I am Never immune to the combination of perpetually-smiling cynic and constantly-fraught-with-worry optimist that they are. In the time that Percy was far away from his sister, he found a sister in Keyleth, and that means SO much to me!!!

He found someone who still looks at the world with eyes of belief, able to find good and want to protect it, and simultaneously Kiki has a schemer on her side who will always laugh and cry with her and will always, always try to make sure she can set the world to rights as much as possible because that's always what she wants.

And more than that, I love how they're almost kind of like tethers to the world for each other? I mean, Percy's cursed and seemingly perpetually on the brink of death while maintaining his calm front and Keyleth's always fraught with the Terrors of being alive (same, bestie) so it's darling to me that they can find peace by kind of...battling each other sometimes. Vex meets Percy where he is, she allows him to rest, but Kiki in her own way reminds him of what it meant to believe wholeheartedly, and I love that! I think Forever Winter's SUCH a perfect example of that effect. It even goes both ways, in the tether; the very fact that they can both know that there will always be this person in the world who will tug them back to the living, that they will always wait. It can mean so much, to have someone who will just- wait, with you!!!

[shotofire]

Crystal Clear

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Overview: You meet the bizarre Gojo in a library. He shows you his eyes, and explains his profession. It’s a lot to take in at once

Warnings: Cursing, implied smut

-

Having Satoru Gojo as a friend was, well, different. The guy would always wear a black mask and never tell you why. Also he was so, mysterious. It’s cheesy to say but really, he seems to have many secrets. It was hard to not flood him with a million questions but you knew he would manage to avoid every single one.

Sometimes you wouldn’t even classify what you two have as friendship. There was no texting, calling, or hanging out of any kind besides at a little library in Tokyo. Not many went there, there’d be ten people on a good day. So the first time a tall white haired boy, who really stood out, walked in you were in a trance. He’d talked to you that day which you didn’t expect, but then again who expected someone like him to even come there.

“I’m trying to find a book on how to deal with stress, do you know of such a thing?” He’d scared you when he’d first walked up. It was like the guy was a ninja and moved light on his feet because you didn’t hear his footsteps in the silent library at all. “Uh, yeah I do actually.” The situation was so weird considering you could feel him looking into your eyes, but his were hidden.

Then Gojo began to show up every Tuesday night. You couldn’t help but wonder what his profession was for him to just have this time every single Tuesday. Sometimes you’d show up later or earlier than usual, and somehow he’d always arrive a few minutes after you. The man was light on his feet so at one point you thought he was following you, like you had a stalker on your hands or something.

One time, as if reading your mind, he had said, “I just have a feeling when you’re going to show up. It’s my special talent.” Honestly you believed him, the guy sometimes finished your sentences. Maybe he was a fortune teller of some kind.

Basically, that’s how the relationship went. Gojo would show up when you did, ask for your help to find a new book, and chat for a bit. He was a funny guy and had sly things to say but never made you uncomfortable. What you found odd though was he never read the books you helped find, they’d just sit on the table where you two sat and he’d talk your head off.

The man would sit with his legs crossed and one elbow propped on the head of the chair. His free hand would usually run through his hair every so often or tap against the wooden table. Majority of the time he’d only want to talk about you, and would avoid anything having to do with himself. Over time feelings started to come into play, and you hated yourself for it. You hadn’t even seen the mans eyes and the most you know about him is his name, yet you like him.

Gojo has this thing about him that you can’t seem to pinpoint. As if there’s something about him that draws you in, but you couldn’t let this get any deeper. He was a brick wall that wasn’t going to break anytime soon. You didn’t like the whole gaining feelings thing, so you stopped going to the library. The fact you could just look at him and think of him in so many ways wasn’t a good thing. If the guy was interested in you, he’d actually tell you things about himself.

Staying away from him seemed like a good idea. There was no way of contact besides the library, so the process of forgetting and getting over him should be easy, right?

Wrong.

You’d managed to keep away from the library, even though you love it there, but nothing changed within you. He’d still creep into your mind on a late night as if he was the only thing you could think about. His voice rung through your head like a bell, and everything reminded you of him. Even your bed made you think of him due to his frequent sly remarks.

“Did you sleep well?” he’d asked on a rainy day, observing the dark circles under your eyes. “No, my bed is shit.” His laugh had sent a tingle to your legs, which hadn’t happened up until that point. “I bet I could help make it comfortable.” A blush had been fast to creep onto your cheeks, and his smirk had your head spinning. You assumed he messed with you because a romance novel was always in your hands, there was no way he actually had interest in you.

Right now you are sitting on your couch wrapped in a blanket. It’s dark outside, and it’s Tuesday. It has been a few weeks since you’ve gone to the library, and you miss Gojo. You had moved to Japan recently with your family when he’d first came into your life, so he was sort of a refresher. Then he became too much for your hopeless romantic mind. Tuesday’s always consisted of you battling with you emotions.

It’s your day off from work, and you have nothing to do, and no new books to read. The sweet librarian was probably wondering where you were as well, she always let you have books longer than the due date. She’s even let you keep a couple. At this point you’d have to nail your feet to the ground to stop yourself from leaving. You needed something new, and you needed to see him.

Before you knew it the library was in sight. It was a short walk from your home and didn’t take much energy. Plus you enjoyed seeing all the nature things along the way. The lighting from the windows were dim as always, and it seems empty as usual. Maybe Gojo has already gave up on coming from you absences, and it’ll conform it’s just not meant to be.

Once you open the glass door the familiar smell of cinnamon fills your senses. Oh how you missed this place, it was like your second home. You grab more books than you could carry, and start to have trouble seeing where you’re going.

Someone takes a few novels from the stack, and before you can protest you’re left with a loss of words. It’s Gojo himself, but he looks different. His mask is gone snd instead replaced with black circle glasses, and his beautiful white hair is down instead of up. Also, his prominent collarbones are out on display. You can’t help but stare at him.

“Hi stranger.” Holy shit you missed the way his voice sounds. “Hey.” The nerves within you are moving around like butterflies. He turns on his heals with your books in hand, heading straight for the unspoken reserved table. You follow suit, eyeing his broad shoulders from behind. “Where have you been?” He sets the books down on the table and sits down, forming his usual position.

Why are you so nervous right now? This is Gojo, you know him. Well, actually you don’t. That’s the whole reason you needed to take time for yourself and figure shit out. But it’s not like you’ve never talked to him before. You feel as if he’s a random hot guy asking you for your number.

“Uh, just been busy.” Gojo knows that’s complete bullshit. Even if you had a million things to do you’d make time to come to the library, even if just to grab one book. Your eye contact wavers with him as you speak, so it’s a even more dead five away that you’re lying. “Busy, huh? Or have you just been avoiding me?”

It’s the first time you feel this towards him, anger. Why does he know you so well? Why can he read you like a book yet you have nothing to say about him. He sees the way your jaw clenches at his words, and he’s unsure of why. He may be smart, but he’s just as clueless.

“You know everything about me Gojo,” your eyes are narrowing, “yet all I know of you is your name and a few minor details. You won’t even tell me what you do for a living, or if you even have a job. I feel like you’re hiding too much, and honestly is makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like being around someone who could possibly be a fucking murderer for all I know.” He’d never seen this side of you, or heard your voice sound so frustrated.

It’s silent for a few seconds, but it feels like minutes. You’re breathing heavily, completely vexed. What was the point of being your friend if he didn’t want you to know anything about him? “I’m sorry.” His words surprise you, and your stiff face loosens. His finger is tapping against the wood in a anxious manner. Did your little anger moment effect him that much? You don’t say anything, not even sure what to say.

“I, um,” the boy was never at a loss for words but he sure is struggling right now. His mind seems to be moving a million miles per hour, as if he’s trying to find the right thing to say. Instead of saying anything, he grabs the hinges of his glasses. His fingers rest for a moment as you watch with wide eyes. Then he does it, he slides them off of his face.

Gojo’s eyes are like blue crystals. You’d never seen eyes so beautiful and captivating. Why the hell would he want to cover up such a unique thing about him? “Woah,” is all you can muster up. He has a small smile on his face, but you can tell he’s unsure of his own actions. “You have gorgeous eyes.” You’re trying to make him feel more comfortable. “Thank you.”

You two stay like that for a moment, just gazing at one another. The swirls of white in his orbs become more noticeable as you observe them, and the dark shades of blue. They remind you of the ocean as well. “Why do you cover them? They’re so pretty.” He puts his elbows on the table before resting his head in his palms.

“My eyes are extremely sensitive due to-“ he stops himself, and you notice, “they’re just sensitive and I prefer to cover them.” He was still holding back. You press your lips together in a line, and this time you’re the one who can read him. “You’re lying and telling the truth at the same time.” How the hell do you know that? He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying the wrong thing.

“If I told you everything about me you would call bullshit.” “Try me,” what you says surprises him, “how can you know that if you haven’t even tried?” You were right, but it was much deeper than you could ever antispate. There was a whole realm of things you didn’t know about, but again... he should still try. You are so willing to listen.

“I work at Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School.” You’d never heard of it, not once. Yes you were new to the area but you still knew most of the schools, considering your siblings went to a high school nearby. He sees the puzzled look on your face, of course you had no idea what it is. “It’s a school for jujutsu sorcerers.” You definitely weren’t catching on. It sounded like make believe, but his face was so serious.

He isn’t lying.

“My job is to exorcise cursed spirits that are active and posing a threat to anyone or anything. I am a sorcerer myself, I contain cursed energy that can be used to fight these spirits,” Yep, what he was saying makes no sense, “I know this sounds insane to you but i’m telling the truth.”

Even though it did sound like some big story, and made no sense to you, you still knew he wasn’t lying. The concept of what he’s saying is making you freak out a bit on the inside, but you try not to show it. “I believe you.” He didn’t expect you to so easily, yet you do. “Well, thank you. I know it’s all hard to believe, and you can’t see curses so I don’t know how to physically prove it to you.”

A small smile forms on his lips and he bats his white eyelashes at you, making your stomach do a small flip. “But we could talk more about it over dinner Friday night, if you would like.” Holy shit, your face is already red. Why does it have to heat up so fast? “Yeah, I-I would like that,” of course you just had to stutter. He stands up from the table with a sly smile on his face, “Awe you’re blushing. Eager to go on a date with me, doll?”

Date? Doll? Gosh this boy was trying to make you pass out with his words. “Personally, you have me eager for a lot of things. But i’m going to earn it with my gentlemen-ness, and telling you everything you wanna know.” At this point he was just trying to make your head spin and legs tingle, he likes the way your eyes sparkle at the thought.

Gojo gives you a small piece of folded up paper, “See you Friday.” He sends you a wink before walking off with his hands in his pockets. His parents really made a hot ass son.

You open the paper and are met with numbers, his number. “Oh shit,” you whisper. He’s expecting you to call him? The nerves set in, this is all so much. The guys a sorcerer, has beautiful eyes, just gave you his number, and wants to go on a date.

You’ve struck gold.

[smugzayn]

Sorry for what?

You’re just Harry’s manager, and ignoring the fact that he’s been in love with you since day one, he accepts that. Of course, that doesn’t mean he will always accept that. When he invites you to spend the weekend at his family’s home in the countryside, you surprisingly accepts.

Featuring miscommunications, skinny-dipping, and heartbreak. A story told in three parts.

INTRO

There were a lot of things that one might love about being Harry’s assistant. He was incredibly kind, for one, and that was more rare than one might suppose in the entertainment industry, and it was a true joy to watch his talent and creativity at play even when he was only singing in the car on the way to an event or planning out his wardrobe, and there was nothing quite like his dry wit that seemed to make him near friends with even those he met in passing.

On the other hand, there were many things that one found to be truly infuriating about being Harry’s assistant. For example, he nearly never followed any type of schedule that any one would diligently craft and create by means of endless emails and tireless phone calls. Nor did he adhere to any of the rules that governed most manager/client relations. He hated being called Mr. Styles, and refused to allow anyone to wait on him, and there were few times when he ever saw a manager as anything less than a friend with a knack for organization. Additionally, he seemed to find an irritating amount of pleasure in peevishly vexing his managers on just that fact - pushing the boundaries of a professional relationship and of a schedule.

So, why exactly were you trying to convince yourself that you weren’t falling in love?

ONE

Most of your conversations began like this:

“Mr. Styles, are you even listening to me?” you demanded, glancing up from where you were buried in his email.

“Hmmmm?”

“Really? Why do I even bother?”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “There’s just this melody that’s been on my mind all week, and I can’t seem to get it worked out. Go on, though.”

How could his carefree charm be what made him universally adored and completely baffling?

“I can pencil us in for later tonight? Perhaps, after dinner with your mum we can -”

Harry interrupted, “Don’t even finish that thought. I’m all yours.”

You leveled him with an appraising look, but his face was nothing but sincere. He even planted both feet solidly on the floor, leaned forward in the chair across the desk from you, and ran one big palm over his late afternoon scruff in pensive attention. You nodded and scrolled back to the first email on your agenda to begin again. In his attempt to show you his focus, he found himself studying the rise and fall of your chest, and the flutter of your eyelashes against the softness of your skin, and even the movement of your lips as you intently read through his agenda.  

Suddenly, as Harry had found to be the case as of late, all he could process were your lips. Their color, their shape, your habit of biting at them with just the very tip of your teeth when you were focused. And just now, in the way you sucked your bottom lip in when you were nervous.

Harry snapped his eyes up to find you staring at him questioningly.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Styles?” you asked softly, trying to ignore the faint heat creeping up your neck at his complete attention.

“Yes,” he blurted out, deciding that he needed to do something, go somewhere, get away. He needed to do anything but be in this room any longer with you. Otherwise, he was afraid of what would happen. He had been burning for you ever since he had first interviewed you all those months ago, but suddenly the fire had inflamed every part of him. If he didn’t do something - and quick - he was going to do something he was sure would end in regret.

Of course, the minute he had spotted you, he had determined, assumed, promised to make you his. Despite your repeated refusals and annoying reminders that it wasn’t an appropriate relationship to have between a manager and client - a romantic one. He only viewed those as mere bumps in what he was sure you would make a very long journey towards dating, marriage, and everlasting bliss. Nonetheless, Harry certainly wasn’t going to begin it all in his family home with his mum and sister on the other side of the wall.

“It’s fine - yes - We will do that then.”

You looked at him strangely, standing up to watch as he shuffled about the room in an agitated search.

“Are you alright, Mr. Styles? Is there something I can -”

“It’s Harry,” he spat tersely for what must’ve been the hundredth time. “I just remembered that I have a meeting - er - not a meeting, but a call I was meant to take.”

“That’s odd...I don’t remember scheduling one.” You raised an eyebrow in question and flipped through his planner. “There’s nothing down for -”

“Yes, well, that’s because I forgot to tell you.”

He was uprooting carefully organized papers and shoving pillows and cushions to the floor in the study that you had been using as an office over the last week. It was so unlike him to behave so...so flustered. You were used to Harry always full of charm, and irritatingly suave, and you were the fumbling and agitated one in the relationship - not him.

“Here,” you held out his mobile, your eyebrow still raised in confusion but your lips were twisted with some mix of amusement and concern. “What do I always tell you about scheduling things with me? You’re a wandering soul, Harry. It’s best to have someone to ground you - like me.” You held up your pencil, always tucked behind your ear, and made a show of scheduling down his phone call in a planner.

He watched as your long, bouncy hair fell to cover your face as you leaned over the table to write. He wondered if you would like him to gather it all at the base of your neck, knot it up, and pull as he took you from behind.

When you looked up, the irritation was clear on Harry’s face. He scowled, “Yes, and what would I do without you? Now privacy, please.”

“You don’t need me to take notes?”

“I will remember any dates decided upon,” he growled, ushering you to the door, and forgetting that there was never a call to take place once you left anyway.

“Fine. I was going to go through some proposals anyway,” you waved a casual hand through the air. “Just text me if you need anything. I will hurry back and -”

“You’re officially off the clock,” he spat with more venom than he intended.

“Yes, but, as your manager, I am always-”

“No, you’re not. Right now, you’re officially not,” he interrupted. His nostrils flared and you could see a vein had risen in his neck.

“I didn’t mean to anger you. I only meant -”

“I know what you meant, and I will not continue to remind you that you’re my manager and my friend. Not particularly in that order.” It took everything within him to not wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest. Perhaps, if his words had yet to make you realise, then a more direct, more forward approach would be effective. “That is the nature of our relationship, and if you don’t see it that way, then maybe it’s time we made a change.”

You could feel your heart thumping in your chest heavily at the fire in his eyes and the harsh tone of his words. Your eyelashes fluttered close when you were finally able to pull your eyes away from his. Because you did not trust yourself to speak - and did not truthfully know what to say regardless - you nodded and left.

TWO

The minute you were gone, Harry threw his phone on the desk and roughly picked the pillows from the floor and replaced them on the sofa. He should never have invited you here. He ached for you, and he had known it, denied it, suppressed it for some time. You had brushed off all his flirting and advances with cutting remarks or a swat of the hand, but you had also ducked your head to cover a blush, and covered your coy smile with a planner or a pile of notes, and you were here with him this weekend. This weekend trip alone was enough to blur the lines, and yet here you were, laughing at dinner, and helping his mum in the kitchen, and even giggling in the bathroom brushing your teeth with Gemma.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, feeling a burning in his chest that was quickly perking up other parts of his body. He couldn’t sleep knowing you were only a door down from him. Even when he did make it through a night with even a bit of fitful sleep, he still had to swallow the lump in his throat as he met you in the hall in the morning. He had never seen you so undone - messy hair, pajamas, and glasses, and all, and now he wasn’t sure how he was to go back.

He looked out the window, checking the drive and saw only his car. Good. His family had all left.

“Where did I put that?” Harry searched through a pile of clothing that had collected in the corner until he found a jacket. He shoved on his boots and decided there was no place like home - in the country, away from the city, and with that delectable lake just a mile north of the house. He stomped out of the room, sharply turned down the hall, swept through the back exit, and headed straight toward the spot where he had traveled often as a boy.

It was time for a swim.

*****

“If he wanted me gone, then he could’ve very well just said so,” you muttered, as you stormed into the bedroom you were staying in and threw open the wardrobe. You were one to always neatly fold, organize, and write out exactly what had been packed and where. However, you were so angry you just grabbed handfuls of clothing, and toiletries, and electronics and stuffed them into your suitcase. 

Organization be damned; apparently, it wasn’t much appreciated anyway. You jumped when you heard a door loudly slam shut. Glaring out the window, you watched Harry stomping away in big, rubber boots into the woods.

You cursed him and continued to zip up your suitcase.

He couldn’t, or wouldn't, ever understand why you so adamantly drew a line on your relationship with him. He didn’t understand the presumption around female managers with male clients. There were always rumors, and whispers, and even the occasional tabloid accusing him of dating a “mystery” woman. You worked twice as hard to maintain a professional relationship because everyone else worked to attribute your every achievement to some imagined sexual favor or romantic romp. If you were to begin dating Harry, then all you would ever be is the flimsy who got into management to bed a popstar.

It didn’t matter that you thought you might love him. Aside from the fact of Harry’s entire celebrity, he could truthfully have any beautiful, talented person he wanted. And, to be fair, he often did.

The idea of being his fling was more painful than not having him at all. Besides, you weren’t cut out for his life forever. You liked it here, in the countryside of Cheshire. You preferred the quiet, the slowness. As soon as you and Harry parted ways, you knew that you would go somewhere just like this. Harry had paid you more than generously, and you had investments, and family inheritance, too. So, you’d leave the city after Harry, find some other career to occupy your time, and reside in the quietness and obscurity of the countryside.

You did one last sweep through your room, you didn’t want to leave anything behind. If Harry was done with you, then you’d make sure you were done with him, too. You fished through your bag, searching for the keys.

“Christ,” you groaned, realising that Harry had been the last one to use the car. While you always told him to put the keys in the same place, better for knowing where they always were, he was more apt to throw them on some random table, stuff them in his pockets, or God knows where else.

You glanced out the window, wondering how difficult it would be to break in. It was a rather unassuming car, but you were sure that didn’t matter when it came to you trying to break into it. Since it was the countryside, you knew there would be no neighbors to report you, but you weren’t sure you could suffer the humiliation of Harry walking back to find you with a coat hanger snagged through his driver’s side window.

“I’m not going to wait here forever,” you muttered bitterly. Now that you had decided to leave, there was no point in delaying it any further. You stormed from the room, luggage in tow, and shamelessly stalked into Harry’s room to overturn his desk, abandoned clothes, and even the bed. Even the kitchen, dining room, and living room tables were devoid of your escape.

You huffed. Staring out the window as if it might hold your answer and then, you realised, that it did. Harry must’ve taken the keys with him. You paused, frowning thoughtfully as you stared out at where he had disappeared behind the late spring trees, and then abruptly decided fresh air was exactly what you needed.

THREE

Through the tall grass, around tree stumps, and brambles, and mud, of course there was always mud, you stomped a path that vaguely seemed to be in the direction Harry had wandered. According to your phone compass, you were headed north. Although, that meant little to you, but it did seem to offer an ounce of comfort. You had all the confidence in the world to wander into the woods during the late afternoon on a warm spring day, your assuredness on your return home was slightly more concerning.

The cheerfulness of your surroundings did little to lessen the temper that had only seemed to grow since Harry had shoved you out of his room. You had never planned to work for Harry forever, but you’d also never imagined such a short lived relationship or an abrupt end to it at that.

Just through the last clearing of trees, you could see the blue of water and within fifteen minutes of walking you were just toeing up to the edge of a sprawling lake. Harry had told you about the lake at least a dozen times before, and you knew that this is what you had been searching for all along. He had spent his summers here with his mates, swimming, and fishing, and even occasionally swooning some young girl.  

But as you just began scanning the coast for some sign of him, you heard a splash and, as you whipped around to determine the noise, you saw the strong, naked back of a man in the water just to your right. He had just come up from being submerged, flicked his head back, and was running his large hands through his hair to shake out some of the wetness.

Harry. Oh Christ, it was Harry, and he was naked.

With a surprised gasp, you dashed backwards to hide behind a tree. After freezing in shock, you peeked once more to see him moving even closer to you, and, as your eyes scanned the shore, you found a scattering of clothes just on the other side of your hiding spot.

“Shit,” you croaked quietly, cursing your luck, and slamming your hand over your eyes to make sense of the predicament you had so suddenly found yourself in. Harry had always had a fondness for skinny dipping, you’re sure he even mentioned it in your first interview, but it had never crossed your mind that you might even see him while he was skinny dipping.  

And you should go. Not only was it strictly against your moral code as a manager, but he was naked, and completely unaware of your presence. It was wrong. Wrong. Yet, you found yourself peeking just ever so slightly until you could see Harry’s strong, muscled torso drifting through the water. Even if he just moved up shore a few more inches you were sure you might catch a glimpse of -

Wrong. You turned back around, took a deep breath, and decided that you would tiptoe forward carefully, quietly back to the house. With a deep breath, you gently pressed down for your first step and immediately heard a loud crack as a stick split underneath your weight. In all your panic and anxiety, you threw yourself to the ground, mud be damned, and lay there frozen.

For a second, all you could hear was the beating of your heart and the harsh sounds of your pants against the woodsy floor. 

Finally, Harry yelled, “Is someone there?” 

You didn’t move a muscle, and you didn’t dare respond.

Harry scanned the coast, waiting to see a camera, or some giddy teen, or even some giddy teen’s mother. It was private property, but Harry had quickly learned how little that mattered to curious onlookers. However, he looked and he saw nothing. Then, he saw just a sliver of shiny hair against the dark greens and browns of the woods.

“I can see you, you know. I know it’s you.”

You gasped, cursed into the mud, and then scrambled to your feet deciding your best chance was to run home, change your clothes, and deny, deny, deny.

“Don’t you dare,” Harry yelled, forcing you to freeze with your knees bent and ready. “If you try and run home, then I will just chase after you. I know the path better than you, I am faster, and I will not bother to dress, but please do not test me.”

You stood, still weighing your options. You were terrible at sport, but you were desperate and that had to put you at somewhat of an advantage.

“Stop hiding. Come out,” he ordered.

You didn’t even breathe.

“Now,” he warned. “Three, two -”

You paused, cherishing the last moments of what you had planned to be a dignified leave of employment, and then shuffled out until you were standing right near Harry’s abandoned pile of clothes. If you were any redder, then one might have mistaken you for a rose bush in the woods.

“Why are you out here?”

You flapped your hands at your side, hoping that would suffice for an answer. Harry just crossed his arms over his wet torso and glared at you.

“Well, I can’t very well leave without the keys. Can I?” Harry looked ready to storm out the water and tackle you, but you continued. “I saw you leave earlier and I figured I might as well follow to ask for the keys. Of course, I would have someone return your car back to town. It was, you, after all that insisted on driving together.” You flushed even more as Harry glowered at you. “I didn’t have any idea you would be out here swimming. How was I to ever guess that you would be in the water like - like that?”

He didn’t address your accusation. “Did you follow me here?”

“Yes, of course, I did because -” As his face split into an arrogant smile, you stammered, “Oh! Don’t be ridiculous. Not like that. Had I known that you were going to be naked, then I never would’ve come.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was still a condescending smile lacing his mouth.

“I will just go back now,” you blurted, turning your back and taking one grateful step away from his nakedness before he stopped you. “I will just order a cab once I -”

“Don’t move,” he growled. “Stay just like that, and I will put my clothes on so we can walk home together.” You could hear him walking out of the water and it was so like him to have no shame about the whole thing. “Besides you don’t even know these woods; it was dangerous for you to have come so far in the first place.” He ignored your irritated sigh and continued the lecture. “Don’t you know how easy it is to lose your sense of direction? The sun will set in probably an hour, and then who knows how lost you might find yourself?”

You hung your head, trying to ignore the rough tone of his voice, and the irritating line of scolding, and just how close his naked body was to you. If you even just turned one shoulder slightly, then you were almost certain to catch a glimpse of-

“I’ll just go now,” you shouted, interrupting what you realized was his continued lecture. You were desperate to get away before you ruined everything even more. With just the slightest turn of your head, you knew he would see it all in your eyes - that you had fallen for him. You staggered forward, “Really it’s no problem.”

A sharp tug on your elbow quickly pulled you back.

“I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I”m even less in the mood to spend the afternoon tracking you down in the woods.”

“I’m no longer your manager, and I am no longer your concern,” you huffed and ripped your elbow out of his hold.

“If you take another step,” he threatened. “Then I will toss you in the lake and throw my keys in after that.”

He was still shirtless, and it only made the angry rise and fall of his chest all the more menacing. Harry was not often intimidating, but those who often were not made it all the more effective when they were.  

“Fine,” you yelled petulantly turning your back on him again as he slipped back into the carefully careless facade that always seemed to paint his face. He was infuriating, and charming, and arrogant, and kind, and you were thankful, at least, that your face was hidden because you were sure even your ears were red by now.

Without so much as a word, he brushed by your side, grabbing a handful of your sleeve, and tugging you along behind him. His hair was dripping down his neck and there were splotches where his clothes were sticking to his wet body.

After a silent minute of allowing him to drag you behind him, you abruptly stopped and tore yourself from his hold for the second time that afternoon.

“I can walk on my own,” you muttered. “Why didn’t you just let me walk home in the first place?”

He shrugged, “Peeping Toms can hardly be trusted.”

“I was not peeping.”

He just raised an eyebrow and then finally took you by the elbow again when you gasped like a fish to find a proper excuse.

“Exactly,” he murmured, pulling you up slightly as you stumbled over a root. “I don’t know how you went about spying on your previous clients, but it’s the one firm rule I have - respect my privacy.” He somehow managed to look both deadly serious and irritatingly amused as he looked back at you.

“Yes, I certainly know that.” You agreed miserably. As you trudged through the forest, it became clear as to how he must see this. He had wanted you gone and instead you had followed him out into his private woods and leered at him in secret until you had been caught. You had never felt so ashamed in your entire life. Oh, you were miserable.

“If you want,” you offered meekly. “I can get a cab right away. I won’t bother with your car. It was too much for me to assume it anyways, so there won’t be -”

You smashed into Harry’s back as he suddenly stopped, the anger returning to his face in a flash. It was amazing how quickly he changed from pleasantly amused and cocky to enraged. “You’re not quitting.”

You looked at him in confusion, and then it dawned on you how stupid you must’ve sounded. “No, of course not. I understand that. I am just - If you want to fire me, then I understand -”

“No, I’m not - that’s not,” Harry ran a flustered hand through his hair and looked at you in disbelief. “I’m not firing you and you’re not quitting. Absolutely not.”

“Well, I don’t know how we can continue like this.” You stared up at him in confusion. He was so close to you, and his hand was still wrapped around your elbow. The heat of his body was warming your own and the faintest wisp of his breath could be felt upon your forehead.

His eyes glared down at you - angry and sparkling with something else you couldn’t quite place. If only he could see all that hid behind yours. The desire for him and the foolish knowledge that it could never be him. Not for you and certainly not for him. And his lips, his lips were pink, and parted, and saying something, something -

“I’m going to kiss you,” Harry muttered before he pulled you tight against his body and at first his touch was hesitant and calculating, but as you leaned into him he became more needy.

You should have turned away. Hell, you should have turned and sprinted back to the house, grabbed your luggage, and scurried to town. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but stay rooted to the spot, soaking in his smell, and breath, and touch.

You gasped as his hand at the small of his back pulled you in desperately close to his body. You could feel the strong lines of his stomach against your own and you flushed as you felt his need pressed up hard against you.

He became more demanding, and you melted into his touch. He took advantage of your responsiveness, running his hands over your body, just barely knotting his fingers on your hair, and ghosting over the swell of your breast until your knees felt shaky.

“We can’t.” You mumbled, but Harry was too far gone to hear it. “This is too much, Harry.”

Still, you didn’t push him away, you didn’t reel back from his touch or turn away from his sultry lips.

“Mr. Styles?” you breathed out in desperation.

Then he did it for you. As if you were suddenly burning him, he wrenched himself back and you fell out of his hold. He stared at you, his eyes searching and intense. His breath was still heaving and his lips just slightly swollen by your touch.

You tore your eyes away from him, regretting you had done anything but run away after all.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

He just watched you, saying nothing.

You were desperate to explain yourself, but you didn’t even have a semblance of how to begin. “I can’t, Mr. Styles,” his eyes flashed in anger. “This isn’t...We shouldn’t - I…”

“Fine,” he bit off, ripping his eyes away from you. “Then go. Now. Go.”

He reached into his pocket, grabbed a set of keys and held them out.

You hesitated, but he roughly grabbed your arm and shoved them into your palm.

They felt heavy and hot in your hand, like perhaps it was his heart or yours instead of a cold, tiny piece of metal.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed again, reaching out to him but he flinched back from you.

He shrugged off his reaction, masterfully shifting back to the careless, grinning Harry. Then, he added dismissively, “For what?”

You ran then. You ran back to the house, and then to the car, and then all the way back home to London. And from there you sent an official resignation, listed your London home, and promptly enlisted a realtor to find you a home in the countryside before the the next week had even begun. By the middle of the next week, you were living out of boxes and dipping out for a run to the coffee shop whenever a potential buyer came by to look. 

And the whole time all you could think about were his last words - so scathing, so careless, and, most painful of all, so true. Did Harry really not know what you had been apologizing for? And as you spent the week imagining your house in the country, and the hours you’d spend wandering the woods, and leisurely watching the days drift away, you wondered if you had known, either.

[part two]

[masterpost]

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Cats got the Devils Tongue (Lucifer Morningstar)

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader Words: 1.2K Warning(s): LOTS OF FLUFF ♥ A/N:Okay, Lucifer is a bit OOC in this but omg I love writing a lovesick, fluffy Lucifer ahaha Request:  Here's a request for one if your still taking them, hows about a reader who is badass supreme with her friends although when in social situations (for instance when talking to a stranger) she is automatically he most shy and awkward person to ever walk the face of the earth? And Lucifer just plain f a l l s  in love with her to the highest degree so I'm talking full on stuttering and awkward glances (and btw I love all of your other fanfics!!)

--------------

When Lucifer first saw (Y/N), was at  his nightclub Lux. There she was with two of her friends at the bar. At first he didn't think much of her but when he saw her smile he felt what humans called "butterflies in the stomach". It was a strange sensation to him but he didn't dislike the feeling. He watched her with keen eyes, bringing his drink to his lips.

He saw her face contort into anger which put him on alert. He followed her gaze and watched her march up to a man getting too close to one of her friends.  In a second, the man was on the floor clutching his jaw and the (h/c) haired woman was shaking her hand. Immediately he made his way over to the group to handle it before a security guard does.

"What a punch, my dear." Lucifer smirked, looking down at the groaning mess on the floor. One of security finally came to scene. "Oh hello, Paul. Take out this trash on the floor, he was harassing other guests at Lux." Once he saw the security guard pick up the man and turned to face the woman that has captivated him. "I am terribly sorry about that. Lucifer Morningstar, club owner; how about free drinks for you and your friends for the rest of the night?"

"Oh uh..." He noticed her arms wrapped around herself. "T-thanks. Sorry for the scene, I-I just want to keep my friends safe..."

'What a cute, awkward human being.' Lucifer smiled to himself.

"No worries at all. "What is your name?"

"It's (Y/N) (L/N)."

"Well my dear (Y/N), I have to take care of something, but if you ever come back to Lux... You can find me the booth in the corner. You are always welcome to join me." He left with ahead tilt and smirk, quickly worming his way through the crowd. Talking to (Y/N) seemed to have placed a nervous spell on the Devil, and he didn't  feel like making a fool of himself as a first introduction.

------

It was about a week and half since Lucifer saw (Y/N) back in his night club.

He was sitting in his booth watching the crowd of people dance away. He wasn't exactly focused on anything particularly, he was just taking in the sin around him.  He took a sip of the dark liquor in his glass and glanced to his cellphone, merely checking the time.

"Lucifer?" Her voice startled him, he almost choked on his drink.

"O-Oh! Hello darling. I am glad to see you are back at Lux. Come, sit!" He cleared his throat and gestured to the open area next to him. He felt his mouth dry, almost making it hard for him to swallow or talk.

"Thanks." She scooted into the booth, looking at just the table. Lucifer took note of her nervously biting her bottom lip which he thought was adorable. It made him almost chuckle at the thought of her being confrontational in order to protect her friends, but nervous to talk with a stranger. Although he has no room to talk, he feels a sense of nervousness around (Y/N) (but it would be real hard getting him to admit that outright). He made side glances towards her as she got comfortable, taking in all her features. (Y/N) was quite the appealing human to him.

"What brought you back to Lux?"

"I thought I would take you up on that offer of joining you." She glanced towards him, their eyes meeting. Her eyes quickly darted elsewhere which caused Lucifer to earnestly smile.

"Of course, it is not everyday I meet a human as v-vexing as you." The Devil kept an outward appearance but mental cursed at himself for stumbling his words. "What would you like to drink? My treat."

"Oh I couldn't, you already paid for my friends and I's-"

"Nonsense, I do own Lux." He smirked. She gave him her order and he nodded, signaling a waiter and relaying her order to his staff. "So, (Y/N), tell me about yourself. What are your desires."

"Well..." She then explained, with some of the awkwardness and shyness fading away. She explained her line of work, interests, likes and dislikes, her cat she found in the little garden at her place. Lucifer felt absolutely smitten by the women in his presence. Her smile, her eyes... her everything made his legs feel weak. "What about you, Lucifer? O-outside of owning this club I mean."

"I help out a detective at the LAPD as a civilian consultant. I also do favors for people as well." He continued on with himself, occasionally telling her facts that pointed to him being the real Devil. He could read people easily and noticed every time he told she about his devilish self or his family she would raise her eyebrows in surprise.

-----

The Lux club was closed, yet Lucifer and (Y/N) were still mindlessly chatting. There bodies were now closer, shoulders barely brushing against each other. There was still some nervousness between them but they grew comfortable in each others presence. All of Lucifer's not so subtle hints on his true self didn't seem to drive (Y/N) away.

"Well darling, it has been a pleasure speaking with you but it is getting pretty late." Lucifer sighed.

"Yeah, I should probably get going home." (Y/N) smiled and began to get up from the booth.

"Would you like me to escort you home?"

"Oh that's okay, Lucifer. I parked in the parking garage across the street."

"Then I will take you to your car. If it is alright with you?"

"Y-yeah that would be fine..." He smiled at her shy, nervous self. Lucifer held out his arm for her, which she gladly took. It took a few minutes for them to arrive at her car all while Lucifer began to feel a sense of dejection, knowing she would be leaving. "Thank you for the wonderful evening, Lucifer. I'm glad I took you up on that offer."

"I am glad you did too. Will I ever see you again, darling?" He faced (Y/N) fully.

"Of-of course!" She must of realized how eager she sounded and looked away bashfully. "Uhm, let's trade numbers alright?" The two pulled out their phones and swapped their numbers quickly.

Lucifer chuckled, taking hold of both her hands in his. "I look forward to seeing you again my dear." He leaned forward and placed a gentle, soft kiss on her hands, looking at her face. "Drive safe, alright?"

"Of course, I can't miss seeing you again." They both shared a smile and she turned to get into her car. Before Lucifer could begin his journey back to Lux, he felt (Y/N)'s hand grip his shoulder. She then reached up on her toes and planted a kick peck to his cheek. A pink blush dusted Lucifer as he watched her get into her car. He took a step back, allowing her to back out and leave; all while he was cupping where she kissed him. A sickly sweet smile was plastered on him his face as he made his way back to his penthouse.

"It's official, I am completely smitten."

[thesean]

@freshsteel​ said: Please write your essay on Osiris I Will read it and that is a threat

@stormlord67​ said: I wish to hear about the Osiris brainrots and info.

@salt216000​​ said: Tell us your thoughts about Osiris I dare you

Did you ever hear the tragedy of Osiris, Warden of the Infinite Forest? I thought not. It’s not a story the Vanguard would tell you...

alright alright alright

i have A LOT of thoughts about osiris so buckle up, i’m gonna be going over A LOT starting at the beginning to the end of his exile (also i won’t be talking much about immolant because it makes me too sad when i’m already sad about him for other reasons)

I want to talk about this phrase I often use in regards to Osiris first. “Exile as a state of mind.”

EXILE AS A STATE OF MIND.

So like. The thing about Osiris is that time moves faster in the Infinite forest than it does outside of it. And from what I've been able to gather In Real Time he's only been exiled for about 40 at the least, 200 at most, whereas for him it's been hundreds, if not thousands, of years. All that time he's been exiled, all that time he's come to accept that fact, that there is no last city to fall back on whenever he needs to. That there was no one to rely on, not truly. That he had to fight this war against the Vex alone. That it was Him and Only Him.

So it becomes a state of mind.

Worse yet, it's a title, one that he still uses despite no longer being exiled. (Read in One Exile to Another, and a few of the Hunt Armor loretabs.) so there's a disconnect between him and the people he loves because he is still exiled in his mind, he does not have anyone to rely on other than himself. Exile, not as a state of being, but a state of mind, because he can no longer think how it will be otherwise.

Exile, as a state of mind, because if he accepts that he is no longer exiled, then what? Who will he be? He won’t be a Commander, he won’t be the Hero of Six Fronts, he won’t be any of that, he’ll be stuck as Osiris.

And Osiris is a terribly lonely man.

Let’s also consider what Osiris’s exile was like in the first place. How it really took place, not through the skewed lens of The Fall of Osiris comic or through the biased perspective of Osiris’s journals.

Consensus Meeting 2891.98

NM: "I note for the record that we are without a Warlock Vanguard or a Vanguard Commander." Andal Brask: "Two birds, one man." Zavala: "Ikora Rey is interim Warlock Vanguard for this meeting." Speaker: "Which brings us to our first order of business. Ikora Rey, the Consensus formally requests you assume the responsibilities of Warlock Vanguard." Ikora Rey: "Considering I've been performing those responsibilities for a while now, I accept." FWC: "Why did you cover for him for so long?" IR: "Someone had to do it." S: "Ahem. Now that we have Consensus, I may inform you I have decided to banish former Warlock Vanguard Osiris from the Last City." [murmurs] S: "Are there any objections?" DO: "None here. Maybe he'll find a better planet for us." [pause] S: "Very well. Next: I name Titan Vanguard Zavala as the new Vanguard Commander. Congratulations." (Curse of Foresight)

It was so casual and no one stood up for him. It was a unanimous decision. It’s no wonder Osiris has so much trouble reaching out for help. Last time he did he was exiled, last time he did everyone he cared about turned their backs on him, Saint wasn’t exempt from this. He must have felt some sense of betrayal from this. And it stuck with him.

GOD IN THE MACHINE.

This one’s a much more subtle thing and based upon observations but I do want to talk about how terrifyingly close Osiris was to, essentially, godhood.

There was a quote in Destiny 1 at some point when you’re hunting down Oryx, I can’t seem to find the exact quote on Ishtar, but it was something along the lines of “In order to be a god you must have eyes everywhere.”

Osiris has a lot of eye imagery.

Another way Osiris was close to godhood is that he had the ability to make echoes. There’s only one other character in Destiny who was able to do that. You guessed it: Oryx (albeit he used Darkness instead of Light to do it but the sentiment remains.)

Additionally, let’s not forget that Destiny tends to play on character’s names whenever their names come from something of power. Toland commented upon Eris’s name being a name of chaos reflecting that she’s named after the Chthonic Goddess, Eris. And Osiris being named Osiris, an Egyptian God of death, well... Need I say more?

Osiris can manipulate the Light in ways we didn’t even know was possible, from using multiple Light elements at once to creating Reflections and Echoes, to creating a ward of Light in a way we haven’t seen Warlocks do. Not only that but Osiris had an entire planet under his control, a Vex machine that no one person should be able to control and he had it at the tips of his fingers.

He was scary close to godhood. And I don’t think he realizes it.

FAITH.

Another aspect of Osiris I’d like to touch upon is his relationship with faith.

Osiris has a very distinctly different view of these things in Destiny, and it’s something that’s now painted as a good thing. It’s good to question why you fight, good to question why you exist. Osiris questions everything and while there’s a few jabs made at him about it (mostly they come from how he was viewed before Curse of Osiris) it ultimately doesn’t state that Osiris’s questions are bad. In fact I’d go so far as to say they were vindicating.

BUT. This raises my thoughts on his faith, on how it’s served him. We know that Saint-14 has a lot of faith, both in people and in the Traveler, and it’s interesting to me to see the dichotomy of that vs. Osiris’s views.

There was an idle line he had in Season of Dawn, in where he said "I thought you had broken the Red Legion... I see faith has failed me yet again..."

What has faith gotten him? Abandonment. Exile. Losing Saint.

They have a silent god hanging above them in the city, and what has it done for them? The Traveler was not at Six Fronts, the Traveler was not at Twilight Gap, the Traveler did not stop the Vex, and the Traveler certainly didn't save Saint. Rotted faith, eroded to bitterness.

The light is a weapon because if it weren't then would it not act? Would it not save humanity? Why wouldn't it save him? Why would he suffer so much?

So he is mad at god.

The best quote I remember about his Relationship with the Traveler is him saying that the Traveler's death was a gift in that there are now Guardians, but also they only have the problems they have now is because the Traveler came there, bringing its enemies to their shores.

He questions the Light because while it’s their greatest weapon, it is also the source of humanity's grief

The Traveler holds their chains. (Freedom is a chain, choice is a prison.)

“I have questioned the Light before, and I continue to question it today. But skepticism is not the same as disavowal. The Light is one of our greatest resources.” — Transmission from Osiris

[cavalierious-whim]

Overheated (FE3H)

Sylvix | Canon-Compliant | Post Timeskip | Explicit

Felix sees Sylvain in nothing but a towel and has to get his hands on him. Even if it's in the Sauna.

A/N: Sato gifted me with this amazing art for my birthday, which can be found here on their twitter. Naturally, it inspired me. Thank you Sato! I love you lots. <3 You can read here on A03 for better quality, and you can follow me here on Twitter!

“Can’t handle the heat already?” asks Felix near his ear.

Sylvain can imagine the way that Felix’s mouth is curled into a tight little smirk, pleased with himself. And of course, he’d be-- he’s got Sylvain boneless under his touch with something as simple as his hand around his cock.

It’s the worst place for this, the sauna. They’ve been in there barely fifteen minutes. Sylvain isn’t an exhibitionist. Except when Felix is.

“Oh, I can,” says Sylvain cheekily. He can feel the way that Felix smiles a Cheshire grin against his neck.

“You seem sure of yourself,” says Felix. Goading him as always. Pressed close to Sylvain’s side, mouthing at his neck. Fingers tightening around the head of his cock. “But this part of you is honest at least.”

“I’m always honest.” Especially in the way that he moans as Felix slides his hand along his length. He knows that Felix loves it, the way that he wears his pleasure on his sleeve. Or, in this case, on his skin. The thin towel wrapped around his waist doesn’t hide anything since Felix’s hiked it up to show off his hard cock and how it’s already spilling over, wet to the touch.

“Debatable,” says Felix. His fingers dance down his shaft before spreading wide against his groin, sweeping through the hair there. A soft touch that does wonders for Sylvain because he likes the casual nature of it.

It’s usually him pulling apart Felix, pushing him to the edge, trying his best to get him to forget about the war, about their impending doom, or to just relax for once in his damn life. But this time, it’s Felix who has his hands on Sylvain. Who’d stared at him the moment Sylvain stepped into the sauna swathed in nothing but terrycloth.

Felix’s gaze immediately hardened, just like Sylvain’s cock the moment he’d caught the sultry gaze.

And when Felix is like this, he’s taunting in the worst of ways. Sylvain craves it.

Sylvain turns to meet Felix’s face. It’s pink and sweaty, partially from the humid air of the sauna. He isn’t unaffected, though. His gaze sweeps over Sylvain, from his chest to his cock, and then back up, eyes hazy with want.

They meet in a kiss, a tangle of their lips. Sylvain licks along the seam of Felix’s mouth and he opens right up, pulling him in eagerly. Sylvain moans into the kiss, tongue stroking along his before he pulls back. Too stuffy.

“Hot,” says Sylvain, “Too hot for-- Well--”

“Already overheated,” says Felix. “I knew it. You really can’t handle it.”

“Try me.” It’s a perfect imitation of Felix’s constantly vexed demeanor.

Felix pauses at that, his hand stilling. “Is that a challenge?” he asks.

Sylvain leans against the wall, stretching along the wooden bench, and smiles in return. “Better make it quick before someone else comes in.”

Felix does exactly that, doubles down on his efforts. Licks his hand to slick it up, using the wetness of saliva and sweat to ease the way. His fingers are warm against Sylvain’s aching cock. He knows just how to touch him, the tempo and pace, where to squeeze tight, and where to loosen his grip.

“Fuck,” curses Sylvain, a hiss into the warm air.

“Not this time,” says Felix. He licks along Sylvain’s neck and down to the juncture of his shoulder. Across his collarbone, lapping at the skin there. Sylvain’s a sucker for this, beholden to the smaller things during their intimacy.

Felix’s hand on his cock, his tongue sweeping across his sweaty skin; it’s all second to how Felix’s is pressed close to him, whispering soft and filthy things into his ears. Really, that alone does more than anything. He can’t wait to get his hands on Felix.

“Someone can come in anytime,” says Felix, breath hot against the shell of his ear.

Sylvain whines at the thought. It’s late, far too late for that to probably happen. Everyone’s tucked into their beds, sleeping softly. But the threat of it heats his groin.

“And they’d see you,” continues Felix, his voice pitched low in a dangerous tenor. Goddess, what the sound does to Sylvain, how it stokes the fires burning tight in his gut. “Spread out like this, in front of me. At my mercy. They always think it’s the other way around, that I’m the one who’s at your beck and call, but look at you now. What would they say?”

He whimpers, thinking about it. There’s a distinct image that comes to mind when one thinks of Sylvain Gautier, and he’s pretty damn sure that this isn’t it. Felix’s hands sweep down to caress his balls, rolling them slightly in his palm. Presses against the expanse of smooth skin just beneath. And then he’s back on his cock, and Sylvain’s wanton, so close to the edge, to careening right over.

“Already,” chides Felix.

“Felix--”

“Not a complaint.” Then Felix’s voice falls quiet, only for Sylvain even though they’re the only ones there. “I prefer it that way. When you’re so eager you’re doing everything that you can do to hold on.”

It’s hard to focus, his mind foggy and his brain practically mush. The rough towel against his skin as it’s still wrapped around his waist. The rise and fall of Felix’s hand as he jerks him with precision. The coiling in his belly, tighter and tighter.

“I know that I teased you,” says Felix affectionately, crooning in rare form. “About how you couldn’t handle me, but that isn’t true, is it? You’re the only one that can.” Then he licks along Sylvain’s ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth, sucking gently.

Sylvain bucks into Felix’s grip, slick with sweat and spit, and the fog of the sauna. His skin’s practically burning, his chest is on fire. His cock is molten lava, so near the end. He ruts against Felix’s hand with abandon, moaning lowly, not caring that his voice is slowly growing louder.

Felix hushes him, shoving the fingers of his free hand into his mouth. Sylvain swirls his tongue around them, moaning again, this time muted. Mimicking exactly what’d he’d do if he had his lips wrapped around Felix’s cock instead.

Felix is the one to moan this time, short and sweet. He grinds against Sylvain’s side, his own cock hard against the crook of Sylvain’s waist, and slick with precome. Just as needy, just as wanting. Sylvain can’t wait to wreck him. But first.

His hips move quicker, meeting Felix’s fist with gusto. His back arches as he whines around Felix’s fingers between his teeth. Sylvain needed this. Felix must’ve known, must’ve seen how on edge he’s been, how much he needed to be pulled apart.

The dark and wet warmth of the sauna after a late-night spar is the perfect place for dirty debauchery.

“You can,” whispers Felix into his hair. “You’ve been so good, waiting so long for me.”

Sylvain’s eyes slipped closed as his head drops back and he comes at the words. Felix slows his hand and guides him carefully through his orgasm. Come splatters against Sylvain’s stomach, wet and sticky. When Felix lets go, he swirls his fingers through it.

And Sylvain watches as he brings them to his mouth, licking the mess right off of them. Felix’s gaze is heated, eyes narrowed in lust. Then he leans back against the bench and raises a leg to the side, showing off his hard cock, dark pink at the tip. Resting against his slick skin and waiting.

Sylvain licks his lips, hungry to reciprocate and desperate to please.

“Felix,” he groans, already moving, kneeling between Felix’s legs, not caring about the rough wooden slats against his knees.

Felix looks down at him, eyes hooded. A hand finds Sylvain’s head, fingers slipping into his damp curls. Then he pulls at them, just enough to sting satisfyingly. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Sylvain dives in, swallowing him right down.

[randomfandomimagine]

Friends (Jaskier x Reader)

Character: Jaskier

Fandom: The Witcher

Tags: Hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers.

Warnings: Depression, anxiety, insomnia.

Word Count: 2,2k words

Summary: Y/N feels tired and hopeless, and it isn’t until Jaskier talks to them that they don’t realize many things about themselves.

A/N: I was having a really bad night and was so overwhelmed that I needed to let it out and I ended up writing this. It’s kind of dark and sad and angsty, but has some hope and fluff at the end. It really helped me and I hope it can be comforting to those of you who read it, please give it some love (reblogs and feedback) if you do. Take care of yourselves, lovelies 💖

The hubbub of the inn deafened your sensitive ears, even when it was at a considerable distance from you. It only seemed to hurt you more deeply than you already were. Their voices, loud and happy as they sang along to a cheerful gig, were like a treacherous stab to your already bleeding heart. You shook your head, hating yourself when you felt new tears arrive to your eyes again.

You squeezed the petals in your hand, having deflowered a daisy out of the many that stuck out from the weeds and green grass that surrounded you. With a sigh, you extended your hand and let the petals fall over the water. The river ran before you, tranquil and seemingly unaware of the suffering deep within you. A gale of wind swept over you, drying your tears just as they rolled down your cheeks. You had no strength left to wipe them yourself. You sighed, staring at the bright silver moon that shone above you.

“There you are!” A familiar voice startled you, making you gasp and jolt up when the sacred stillness of the night was broken. “Y/N, I was looking all over for you!”

“I’m fine” You lied, glancing at him for only a second before focusing on the water. The white petals floated on the surface, seeming to look up at you. “It’s fine…”

“Don’t give me that, love” He grunted as he sat down beside you. “It’s not like you to just walk away without saying anything”

You remained quiet. Jaskier didn’t know. How could he? Only you knew of the deep sadness that your heart harbored. Only you knew about the never-ending nights, laying there awake staring at the ceiling with wet eyes and weary thoughts. Only you knew of your perpetual tiredness and your apathy. No one knew your strife, only you.

“Was it Geralt?” The bard continued to endlessly talk, as was his custom. “What did he say this time, that big brute? He is not delicate, I know that much. What did he say to you to make you so upset?”

“I’m not upset” You lied again, feeling like every lie that came out of your mouth only added on to your pain. “And he said nothing to me”

“Was is that other bard, then? I know, you couldn’t bear the sound of his music, having heard the wonderful delight that is mine” Jaskier grinned, intently staring at you. He lingered. You didn’t smile, or glance at him, or moved.

“Alright...” Shifting from playful to serious, he reached out to take your arm and gently tugged at it to gather your attention. “Talk to me, love, what is it?”

You frowned. Daring to look at him, you opened your mouth to reply. It was left open as you gawked at him, unable to say any words. How were you going to explain what was wrong if you didn’t know? How would you explain your sadness if you didn’t know where it came from?

“Why so sad?” Jaskier’s voice was sweet as honey, soft as velvet, fragile like glass. His blue eyes were focused on you, examining your expression as though he intended to read your mind, to understand all the negative thoughts that plagued it in order to know how to fight them.

“I’m…” You began to say, clenching your jaw when you felt your voice shaking. What were you? Only sad? No, emotions were far too complicated to simplify it to only sadness. Were you angry, scared, resigned, frustrated? You mouth opened again, and finally a word came out before you could think further about it. “Tired”

“Well…” He dedicated you a warm smile. “Then come back to the inn, get some sleep. I’ll even sing to you, a lovely little lullaby to-“

“No, Jaskier…” Finally, the emotions that you had been trying too hard to repress started flowing with such force that you couldn’t stop the torrent of tears that they turned into. “I’m tired of being sad!”

His eyes shone with emotion as he looked at you. A wrinkle formed in his brow, observing you with such empathy that it seemed although you had passed over some of your sadness to him. Still, you were far too tired to dwell on that thought. Words started escaping your lips before you could stop to understand what they meant.

“I’m tired of this pain, of this emptiness in my chest… I-I’m tired of not being able to fall asleep at night, of all these negative thoughts… I want to stop seeing how Geralt gets mistreated. I want to stop having to beg for coin at every corner in order to have some food, I want to-to…”

“Y/N…” Jaskier tried, although he couldn’t stop your delirious rambling.

“I want to stop being afraid of getting hurt, of seeing you both get injured on our travels! I want to stop all this danger and all this evil that poisons the hearts of men, all those curses that befall people and that kill innocents! There is no hope, and I just want to be…” You sniffed through your nose as a dawning realization finally washed over you with the force of a tidal wave. “I just want to be happy…”

You hadn’t realized any of these things until you started traveling with them. The world was a cold, cruel place, and it was too much for your sensitive heart. It was crushing it with no mercy, and now it was far too broken. Beyond repair.

Jaskier urgently pulled you in for a hug. Unexpectedly. You didn’t react in time to do anything about it. For weeks now you had hidden all these thoughts, trying to avoid them from weighing on them as well as you. For this very reason, your instinct was to push him away and apologize. Repeat that you were okay and only needed some sleep, that you weren’t thinking clearly. But despite your exhausted state, you knew you were thinking more clearly now than ever. All the confusing combination of emotions had finally been untangled until you could pinpoint each one of them. And you had shouted them all at Jaskier.

“I-I’m sorry…” You gasped, finding it hard to breathe. Whether it was because of Jaskier’s desperately tight embrace or your own anguish, you didn’t know. You didn’t care.

“Sh… it’s alright” He whispered, and his voice was quieter and more tender than you had ever heard it. “Let it out, it’s okay, love”

“I didn’t mean to shout, I…” It was only then that you realized you were both standing. At what point you had stood up and he had followed, you didn’t know.

“It’s alright, Y/N” His body pressed against yours, trying to infuse you with every ounce of comfort he could provide you with.

He wasn’t angry at you. Jaskier didn’t blame you for losing your temper, for bursting out from all the emotions that were eating you up inside. He wasn’t broken because you were. His only concern was comforting you, nothing else.

Completely crumbling down now after his attentive cares, you began bawling your eyes out. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you clung on to his doublet and dampened his undershirt with your tears. As you did, Jaskier held you tight and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. He reminded you it was okay. It was okay to cry, it was okay to feel. It was okay. Everything would be alright.

Your sobs turned into hiccups, the lump in your throat tightened, your knuckles hurt from holding on to him so desperatelyt, your eyes were swollen and your strengths were abandoning you. But Jaskier lingered. He rubbed your back, he caressed your hair, he held you up, he promised you yet again that it would be alright. He never once faltered.

And suddenly, as your crying subsided, everything settled. The weight in your chest lessened, the lump in your throat disappeared and you could breathe again. Perhaps that emptiness in your chest remained, but it had greatly diminished.

“That’s it” Jaskier kissed you in the temple, still pressing his hands against the small of your back. “Any better?”

“Yes…” You whispered, even more exhausted than before. Nonetheless, you were finally speaking the truth. “Thank you”

Slowly, fearing that if you moved too quickly your body would finally give out, you lifted your head to look into his eyes. They were shining with unshed emotional tears, but otherwise he was smiling. That warm smile gave you hope.

“Hey” Jaskier whispered too, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “Listen to me now, alright?”

“Alright” You nodded, holding on to his shoulders for support.

“I know life is shit and the world is terrible, I know” He began saying, which caused you to frown. Your bottom lip trembled as another sob threatened to shake your being just when you thought you were finished. However, Jaskier held one finger up. “But! That isn’t all there is”

“What do you mean?” You leaned your weight on him, tiredly putting your head on his shoulder.

“There’s still lots of beauty left” Jaskier passionately said, and you peered up at him to see him beaming with emotion. “There is laughter, and love, and so many good things”

“What good things?” You muttered, finding it hard to see through the darkness that surrounded you.

“New people to meet, new places to see… So many good things… the beautiful flowers blooming on the road, the delicious bitter taste of ale and the lovely sweet taste of pie… The… the tune of a well-composed ballad, the amusing way in which Geralt grunts when he’s vexed, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you wake up before you travel somewhere new. The many wonderful ways our conversations can go and the possibilities of composing whichever ballads my muse inspires, and-and…”

“And?”

“The way your kind eyes shine with the sun, how they light up when I smile at you… The way you touch my arm when I make you laugh and you smile at me in that beautiful way, shaking your head because you can’t believe I just said something so incredibly stupid, or-”

You put a finger against his lips, otherwise frozen in place. Hadn’t you stopped him, you were sure he would have gone on for ages. About you, about the things he adored about you. Endless, you realized, he loved endless things about you.

Jaskier’s eyes widened as he observed you. For the first time since he knew you, he couldn’t understand your expression. He was always attentive, he knew you well and paid attention to your gestures and mannerisms. He paid attention to you and everything that was important to you. Still, this time he was lost in the expressionless look on your face. He couldn’t understand that it was caused by shock.

A trembling breath escaped you as you slowly lifted your finger. Although his mouth was now free, he stayed quiet. He needed to unveil the mystery behind your demeanor. He failed to realize that you had just learned something. That you could see now that you had been too focused in your own pain to see one of the good things in your life, one of the best. Him.

Jaskier was always there for you. He had given you space when you distanced yourself, he had realized all which you tried to conceal, he had read your pain before you could even put it into words. And despite it all, he had respected you enough not to talk about it. Until you were breaking down and he needed to do something about it. He needed to ease your pain in any way he could, and he would do anything to achieve that. Because, and this was your second realization, he loved you.

Your beloved bard, your friend, your traveling companion… he had loved you for a long time. He had fought his emotions for your sake, because you only saw him as a friend. Or so you thought. Because friends don’t lie together every night as close as they possibly can. Friends don’t compose songs for other friends. Friends don’t bleed themselves dry to give you everything they have and they are, not in that way. But that was what you were doing for each other, day after day.

Friends didn’t want to kiss each other, yet somehow you found yourselves staring at the other’s lips. Leaning in slowly. Closing your eyes in anticipation. Passionately pressing your mouths together. Frantically moving your hands to touch each other. To push the other closer, impossibly closer. Until you realized you finally had what you had unknowingly been craving for so long. A certain small dose of happiness that you had yearned for.

Your mouths met. Your lips danced with each other in perfect harmony. Your heart coordinated and began beating like one. You shivered, overwhelmed with euphoria. You broke away breathlessly, peering into each other’s eyes and minds and souls. Feeling closer than you ever were, even as your bodies separated.

His hand lingered in the small of your back. He smiled, and you expected him to make one of his foolish comments. But he didn’t. He only cupped your cheek.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, and you immediately nodded your head.

“Now I am” You sighed, relieved that you could breathe again. “Thank you”

Jaskier’s smile widened. His thumb gingerly caressed your cheek.

“There is always good in the world, Y/N, even when you’re surrounded by evil. And I will always be here to remind you of the beautiful things”

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