#the added side effect is it keeps the rent cheap

[shitpostingkats]

"The average Shibuya citizen gets shot to death at least once a year" factoid is actually a statistical error. Neku Sakuraba, who lives in Shibuya and is shot to death once a week, is an outlier adn should not be counted

[coilyoke22]

Distinction Between Traditional Advertising And Digital Advertising

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[watchmegetobsessed]

Flatmates - Harry Styles

i listened to kiwi while writing it so i strongly advise to listen to is while reading as well. without any further ado, i present you this flatmate!harry fic with some steamy smut!

word count: ~9k

warning: smut

masterlist

You were desperate to find a place to live, to say the least. You’ve always had trouble remembering deadlines and important dates, and thanks to this charming trait of yours, you successfully missed the deadline of the college dormitory applications. After a day of solid panic you started looking for cheap apartments, but living off campus seemed to be something only rich people could afford. Rents were ridiculously high and you were certain you couldn’t afford to spend thousands of dollars for a room smaller than your pantry back at home. You watched ad after ad, making calls all day for a week straight, but at the end, you always went to bed with the thought that you’ll have to live under a bridge through the first semester of your freshman year.

It was until a friend of yours, Rita, who was mature enough to apply to the dormitory in time called you with the best news you could receive.

“This friend of my future roomie is looking for a flat mate. You gave me his number, maybe you could give him a call and see if the room is still available. Just tell him Kimberly gave you his number, I’m sure he’ll offer you the room on a nicer price.”

“Oh my God, you just saved my life!” you gasped, almost feeling like crying. “I owe you big time, Rita!”

You called right away, not wanting to waste any time and maybe have the room already rented by then. A deep, male voice answered the call in a soothing British accent.

“Harry Styles,” he said in a calm tone.

“Hey! My name is Y/N and I got your number from Kimberly. I’m looking for a place to live from September and I was told you have a room to rent?”

Harry sounded a little hesitant at first, asked a few questions about you to have a better picture of you, but eventually offered the room. You quickly agreed that you’d be able to move in at the end of August. You were thankful you had one less worry about school finally.

August rolled around the corner faster than you expected and in no time, half your life was packed up into boxes and suitcases as you and your dad drove two hours on a Saturday to get you all settled in your new home. Up until this point, you hadn’t seen Harry just yet. Though you did search up his name, but he was the kind to never post about himself, but mostly about guitars, landscapes and animals. His Instagram was dry, no trait of what he looked like or even the slightest hint about himself. There was only one photo that featured the outline of a guy, which makes it clear that the person was fully naked, no trace of any clothes hanging on his body, but it was completely dark, so nothing could be really seen. However the tag on the figure made you think it wasn’t him, so it didn’t matter. His Facebook seemed even sadder, barely any posts, not even a decent profile picture. You were surprised to see there are people who don’t really use social media, but you didn’t take it as a bad sign. Harry must be a private person and you had nothing against that.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to move in with a guy you’ve never met before?” your dad asks as the two of you are unloading the car in front of the apartment complex. Glancing up you shrug your shoulders with a little excitement, knowing that you are only minutes away from finally seeing the person you are gonna spend your next months living with.

“He sounded like a decent person, and I really don’t have any other choice, dad. Or do you want me to sleep in a park or something?”

“God, no. You really should be more careful about those deadlines next time,” he sighs kissing the top of your head before shutting the back of the car once everything is set on the ground.

“Don’t worry, I already bought a calendar so I can keep better track of everything.”

When you first told your parents that you’d be living with Harry, they didn’t seem to be a fan of the idea, but they realized you weren’t really swimming in options at the moment so they eventually come to peace that their daughter is going to be living with a guy. They didn’t make a big deal out of it, knowing well you were an adult now practically who can make choices for herself.

The two of you manage to bring everything up to the third floor and you ring the doorbell since you don’t have your keys yet. You immediately recognize Harry’s British accent as he calls out a “coming!” from the other side of the door and a few seconds later it opens, revealing him.

Your first thought is that he is tall. Very tall and oh my! How handsome! His green eyes find your gaze and his dimples come out as he smiles at you happily. This man is surely a nice sight, you think to yourself, but you quickly bring yourself back to reality as he takes a look at all the stuff surrounding you.

“Y/N, why didn’t you call me that you were here? I could have helped you!” Taking a step outside he stretches his hand out for your dad. “Nice to meet ya, you must be Mr. Y/L/N. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you,” your dad nods at him shaking his head before Harry grabs a box from the floor himself, holding the door open for you.

“Come on in!”

The three of you quickly bring everything inside from the hallway and you finally have a moment to look around. It’s not a big apartment, but seemingly perfect for two people. Walking in you have a small kitchen on the left and a little dining area on the right with a simple table and four chairs around it. Further inside is the living room, it’s nicely furnished very bright thanks to the large windows across the front door. On the left there’s a door that leads to the bathroom and on the right there’s a small hallway, two doors on each side. The two rooms are exactly the same size, so there was no need to have a discussion about who is getting which room. Not that you were gonna go against Harry when he literally saved your life with letting you stay with him.

The place seems tidy and neat, it’s clear that Harry takes good care of his home and that is for sure a relief.

Your room has a double bed, a desk with a chair, a dresser and a built in little closet. Everything is white or a light beige color, nothing extreme and you already have plans about how you want to decorate it to make it cozier.

“I left two shelves free for you out of the three. I have a few hair products, but I figured you’d need more space,” Harry tells you when you put a smaller box into the bathroom that has all your toiletries.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

Your dad sticks around a little longer helping you unpack some of the bigger boxes, then you walk him down to his car before he leaves.

“Please call your mother often. You know how much she worries about you,” he asks as he pulls you into a quick hug.

“Will do.”

“And call us anytime you need help. Two hours is not that far away, I can always come and get you.”

“I’ll be alright, dad, but thank you.”

You watch him climb into the car and he rolls down the windows waving in your way as he leaves from the parking lot. You stand there until he disappears on the corner and then go back up to your apartment.

Harry is sitting in the living room when you get back, some quiet music playing from the Bluetooth speaker as he reads a book. He glances up at you and you flash him a smile closing the door behind you.

“Your dad seemed quite okay with you living with a guy.”

“He had time to get used to it. They’re not that strict though.”

“That’s cool. I was thinking, maybe we could order some food when you’re done unpacking and just get to know each other a little more.”

“That sounds great!” you smile, but can’t ignore how fast your heart is beating in your chest. Harry surely has an effect on you that you’ll need to gain control over if you don’t want to make living together hard for yourself.

It takes quite some time to unpack everything and find the right place for your stuff, you don’t even finish by the time the food arrives so you decide to leave the rest for tomorrow.

The Chinese food is all set on the table when you walk out and Harry is getting two plates for the two of you.

“Settled in?” he asks as you take one of the chairs and he sits across you.

“Not fully, but I’m getting there,” you chuckle as he hands you your order. “Thank you.”

You talk over the food, just getting to know each other and you finally get a better picture of Harry. It’s his third year of college, he is studying music and pedagogy, intending to one day use music as a helping tool for kids who have learning difficulties. He is a big fan of collecting vinyls and quite passionate about trashy rom coms.

“Really?” you chuckle when he mentions how his Netflix queue is filled with romantic movies.

“Guilty pleasure,” he nods smirking.

You tell a little about yourself too and he seems genuinely interested, which feels nice. You would have hated if he found your interests boring and negligible, but that’s not the case.

“How come you couldn’t find a roommate for so long?” you ask the question that’s been in the back of your mind for quite a while now. Both of you are done eating and you’re cleaning up the table.

Nothing really stood out about Harry just yet, it’s quite a mystery for you why he couldn’t find someone to live with him.

“Well, you could say I’m a little picky in this field. Lived with my best mate first year, and though I absolutely love him, he was horrible to live with. Felt like his personal maid the whole time. When Niall moved in with his girlfriend and I had to move on my own I promised myself I would choose carefully. Lived with a PhD student last year, he was pretty great, but he moved out when he graduated, and I couldn’t really find someone I liked since then.”

“Glad I passed then,” you chuckle as you take the dishes and start washing them while Harry stands next to you, leaning against the edge of the counter.

“You seemed like a decent person to live with, I hope I won’t be wrong about that,” he chuckles, but you can tell he is still a little scared you might turn out to be a total asshole.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be too much trouble. I’m quiet like a mouse and clean up after myself.”

“That’s all that matters,” he smiles. “Alright, I have some things to finish, I’ll be in my room if you need help with anything.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

He waves in your way before disappearing in his bedroom.

You spend most of your Sunday unpacking what was left and running errands, buying groceries so you don’t have to go to the store every other day during the week. You occasionally meet Harry in the kitchen or the living room, but you both just do your own thing and it’s totally fine by you.

School starts quiet smoothly, Harry was kind enough to give you a rundown of where you’ll find your lecture halls so you don’t really get lost around campus, easily finding your way.

Friday afternoon you and Rita are sitting at a café near campus to discuss the first week of school. You don’t have any classes together, so only grabbed lunch two times all week, but didn’t have more than twenty minutes together before one of you had to run to a class. Now you are both comfortably sat in a booth with two cappuccinos and plenty of time to talk.

“So, how is living with Harry?” she curiously asks.

“He is great! Though we don’t meet that much. He has a band so he has practice three times a week, spends the rest of his time at home reading or watching TV.”

You ate dinner together twice this week, but you haven’t really had the courage to join him in the living room when he was watching TV. It sounds stupid but you figured maybe it would bother him if you were out there with him. And since he didn’t invite you either, you just stayed in your room mostly.

“Kimberly told me he is hot, is that true?” she asks with a smirk as she takes a sip from her hot drink. You immediately feel your cheeks heating up.

“Well, he surely is a good looking guy,” you breathe out.

“Lucky you! There’s not much of those in an all girls dorm,” she pouts and you chuckle. “So are you gonna make a move on him?”

“That’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head laughing.

“Why not?”

“Because we live together and if he rejects me that would be so awkward for the rest of our time living together.”

“But you can’t know for sure if he would reject,” she points out, but she can’t bring up one thing that would change your mind.

“It’s better not to take the odds. I don’t want to end up on the street.”

 As the days go by, things start to get busier in your everydays. Assignments and papers start to pile up so you have to start working on them if you don’t want to leave everything to the last moment. You become a regular in the library, the atmosphere is great for you to get into the flow and get a lot of work done.

It seems like Harry is in the same shoe, he is often in and out of the apartment, sometimes only spends home just a couple of minutes before he leaves again. However they slowly get accustomed to each other, learn the ways the other likes things and work up a schedule for things. Harry learns that Y/N likes to take a shower twice a day and washes her hair usually on Wednesdays and Sundays, so he doesn’t try to take too much time in the bathroom on those days. He also notices how she doesn’t have time to wash the dishes after herself on Thursdays when she just runs home to have a quick bite before she has to leave for another lecture, so they came to a silent agreement where Harry cleans up after her on Thursdays while she takes up on the dishes on Saturday when Harry leaves to band practice at eight.

They work well together and soon enough all of Harry’s doubts about Y/N fade into nothing and he realizes he has made the right choice with her.

Usually she stays at the library until seven on Mondays, but this week they are closing early because they are rearranging a whole department, so Y/N leaves a little after five. She pays a quick trip to the grocery store before she heads home. Opening up the door she immediately hears the music playing, one of Harry’s vinyls is twirling around in the record player and she hears the water running in the bathroom. Setting her bags on the counter she starts unpacking the groceries.

The music and the running water pushed the sound of her arriving down, Harry didn't realize that you were home early when he opens the bathroom door, singing to himself wearing absolutely nothing as he wants to go and grab a pair of clean underwear, but he is shocked to see you standing in the kitchen.

“Shit!” he snaps, hands immediately flying to cover himself as he sprints back to the bathroom quickly grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.

Your cheeks are heating up immediately even though you didn’t see anything you weren’t supposed to, the counter top covered him just right above the critical line, but it’s the first time you’ve seen his upper body completely naked.

Even though it was just a spit second, the sight of his many tattoos and the defined V-line leading down to his crotch burned straight into your mind, leaving you flustered and shy all of a sudden.

“Sorry! I should have let you know I was coming home early!” you call out turning around, as if he was about to walk out naked again. Harry chuckles lightly as he returns, this time a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t be silly, you don’t have to check in when you come home. It was my fault, I shouldn’t just walk around naked assuming you wouldn’t be home.”

You should, you think to yourself gulping as you turn around and dare to look at him again. You don’t see less than just a few seconds ago, his chest is glistening from the dampness, his curls are still wet and you are having a hard time not to stare at the tattoos on his lower stomach, so you busy yourself with the rest of your groceries as he walks into his room and returns in a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt.

“Any plans for the weekend?” he asks disappearing in the bathroom, but he leaves the door open and you hear him shuffle around, probably fixing up his hair. He uses some kind of mousse that keeps his curls perfectly and also happens to smell like mango and some kind of citrus.

“Um, not really.”

“We’re playing at this bar with the band, wanna come and watch us?” Walking out of the bathroom he switches the light off before walking to the couch and opening up his Netflix account on the TV. His invitation surprises you, but it also feels nice he wants you there.

“Oh, sounds fun! Can I bring someone?”

“Of course! I can have a table reserved for you, if you’d like,” he smiles at you before turning his attention to the screen.

“That would be great, thanks.”

You feel like after your little encounter it’s probably not the best day to join him at the TV, especially because you can’t stop yourself from blushing every time you look at him. The sight of his naked torso pops up in your mind every time and there’s no way you can just casually sit on the couch with him without your body lighting up on fire.

 Rita is excited when you tell her about the invitation, you don’t even have to convince her to go with you since she is dying to finally meet Harry. When he leaves in the early afternoon on Saturday he assures you that there’s gonna be a table reserved under your name, and off he goes to practice, leaving you alone for the rest of the day since he tells you he won’t be back before the concert tonight. Rita comes over around six and the two of you get ready together.

“You have to wear something spicy,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you while you sit at your desk applying mascara to your lashes.

“I don’t want to overdress, it’s just a bar.”

“Yeah, but Harry invited you. I bet he wants you to see him play.”

“Of course he wants, why else would he invite me?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“You don’t get it,” she chuckles turning to you, hands on her hips. “He wants you to see him play because it feeds his ego. Maybe even turns him on.”

“Stop acting like there is anything between us. We are flatmates and that’s all.”

“I think he wants to be more, you’re just too pussy to make a move yourself,” she shrugs turning back to your closet.

“Stop calling me a pussy for not wanting to make it awkward for the two of us to live together. I’m pretty sure Harry doesn’t see me as anything more than just the person he lives with.”

“Then we have to change that. And I think this is the perfect dress for that.”

Rita pulls out a little black dress you bought about a year ago, but never really got around to wear it. It’s so tight, pushes your tits up way too much for your liking, you’re not even sure why you bought it in the first place.

“I’m not wearing that,” you shake your head.

“Are you afraid he might get a boner from you in it?”

“Rita!” you snap at her, but she just chuckles.

“Look, if you’re so sure he doesn’t want you like that, why does it matter what you wear?”

She has a point. It’s not like this dress will change anything and it would be nice to wear at least once in your life this stupid dress if you bought it.

Grabbing it from her hands you throw it to the bed and start undressing as she claps in victory.

You remembered right, the dress leaves close to nothing to the imagination when it comes to your figure. The fabric hugs your figure tightly, and you put on a lacy bralette that peeks out at the top of the dress, kind of covering some more from your skin, since the dress doesn’t do much in that field itself. Rita tries to convince you not to take a jacket, but you throw your denim jacket on, feeling the need to have something give you the slightest sense of being covered.

You arrive at the bar twenty minutes before the concert starts and it’s a good thing Harry reserved a table for you, because the place is packed. You’re not sure if it’s because of them or it’s just a regular Saturday evening.

The little stage is all set up, but you see no sign of Harry anywhere as the two of you settle at your table with a drink. Luckily, the bartender did not ask for an ID, he was too busy looking at your chest. At least there’s one good thing in this dress.

The drum set at the back has the name of the band on it and you smile reading it. The word ‘Stylish’ is printed on it with bold blue letters, referring to Harry’s last name, who is most likely the front man of the band.

The place is buzzing and the two of you enjoy being out at a bar concert. When the lights go down you finally spot him walking out of the back followed by a guy and two girls.

“Welcome, folks,” he greets the audience, his accent filling up the place over the chatters. A round of cheering answers him, making him smile. “Thank you for coming out tonight, we hope to entertain you in the next hour. Our name is Stylish and now let’s get down to business,” he smirks and just as he takes a step back from the mic, the band starts playing. Harry grabs a guitar himself before stepping back to the mic and then he starts singing.

They play a mixture of covers and original songs, the transition between them is so smooth you sometimes forget it’s a whole different song that’s playing. Harry is clearly enjoying the spotlight, his presence on the stage is so natural and capturing, you often catch yourself forgetting about the rest of the band.

One song follows the other and you don’t even realize how fast this hour passes by. Harry sometimes stops in-between songs, entertaining the audience with small jokes and just casually interacting with them.

“Our last song is up next, so let me take a moment to introduce the band,” Harry speaks into the mic while softly playing the guitar so it’s not completely quiet as he talks. “At the drums, the amazing and talented Sarah Jones!”

A round of applause fills the bar as Sara waves around smiling widely, before Harry moves on to the next member.

“Playing the piano, the wonderful Charlotte Clark!”

Charlotte plays a short melody on the keys matching up with what Harry has been playing, before she also waves at the audience.

“The guy who is a way better guitarist than me, Mitch Rowland.”

Harry’s comment makes the audience laugh and Mitch just nods shyly, a smile pulling on his lips under his mustache.

“And this handsome Brit who sometimes acts like a comedian,” Sarah starts leaning closer to her mic. “Harry Styles.”

It’s no surprise that Harry gets the biggest cheering and he smirks sweetly, his fingers still strumming on the guitar. The clapping and screaming slowly dies down and as Harry steps back to his mic they start the last song.

It’s quite an upbeat, funky song, you just can’t resist dancing around on your chair and seemingly Rita is enjoying herself as well, cheering with her beer in her hand. The song comes to an end and they all line up at the front of the stage bowing down together as the whole bar cheers on them as one person.

“Woah, this was… something else,” Rita breathes out once they disappear at the back and chatter fills up the place once again and the lights come back.

“They smashed it!” you nod in agreement. You figured they are good if they get asked to perform, but this was way beyond what you were expecting.

Looking around you are hoping to see Harry somewhere, but they must be celebrating somewhere at the back. Maybe he won’t even come out, you think to yourself as you finish up your beer.

“I’ll get us another round,” you tell Rita as you make your way to the bar.

There are quite a few people waiting to be served, so you squeeze yourself into the crowd and hope to get to the front soon.

“So how did you like it?”

You jump in surprise when you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind you, and turning around you see how close he is standing to you.

“Hi! I didn’t even see you sneak up on me,” you chuckle making him smile as he squeezes himself next to you. The two of you finally reach the front, but the bartender is serving someone a little on the left so you have to wait. “I loved it, you were like a proper rockstar up there!”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and his dimples show up on his cheeks. The bartender finally gets to you and Harry is quick to order for the both of you. “’S probably better if I place the order since you’re not twenty one just yet.”

“Didn’t have any problem ordering the first time,” you smirk smugly and Harry raises his eyebrows at you before his eyes wander down your body for a second.

“I bet you didn’t in this dress.”

Suddenly, you’re very aware of how daring your outfit looks, so out of reflex, you pull your jacket tighter on yourself, Harry’s smile quickly fades as he realizes that he made you uncomfortable with his comment.

“I meant that you look really pretty. Definitely makes you appear a little older though.”

“My friend wanted me to wear it, I would have been fine with something else,” you admit as the bartender places your order in front of you and Harry pays for the whole thing.

“Glad she convinced you,” he grins down at you and you can feel your cheeks heating up once again.

He helps you carry the drinks to the table and Rita quickly puts her phone away when she sees who you are returning with.

“Harry, this is my friend, Rita. Rita, this is Harry,” you introduce them and Harry shakes her head smiling.

“Nice to meet you,” he nods kindly.

“Oh, same goes for you,” Rita smirks and you roll your eyes at her.

“I’ll go get the rest of the band, do you mind if we join you guys here? There are no empty tables.”

“Sure,” you nod smiling before the crowd swallows Harry.

“For fuck’s sake, you have to make a move on him, Y/N!” Rita turns to you as soon as he is gone.

“Would you stop?” you chuckle.

“No! This dude is so hot I forget my name when I look at him! And you live with him! You can’t miss this chance, Y/N.”

“I’m not missing anything. We live together, it’s not worth it.”

“Not missing anything?” Rita looks at you as if you were mental. “You are literally missing everything!”

“I’m done with this conversation,” you tell him just when Harry appears again, this time with two of his bandmates, Sarah and Mitch are following him smiling, hand in hand.

“Charlotte had to leave early, but this is Sarah and Mitch,” Harry introduces them as they join the two of you at the table. “And this is my flatmate, Y/N and her friend Rita.”

You all shake hands as Harry sorts out the extra beers he has ordered so everyone has a drink on their hand.

It’s no surprise, but Sarah and Mitch prove themselves to be just as cool as they seemed up on the stage. And the best thing is that they don’t shy away from sharing funny stories that include Harry.

“So have you been looking for a new place to stay, Y/N?” Mitch jokes. “I’m sure you’ve had enough of Harry by now.”

“Very funny,” Harry laughs at his bandmate’s comment.

“To be honest it’s pretty fine so far. He is a pleasant person to share your home with,” you say with a soft chuckle.

“What’s one thing you hate about living with him?” Sarah asks and Harry pretends to be hurt over the question.

“Who said there’s anything she hates?”

“Shush, I was asking her!” she hushes at him making you laugh.

“I really can’t point out anything in particular. Maybe he has been very careful, luring me into believing that he is the perfect flatmate so I get stuck with him.”

You stay for a while, just chatting and having a good time until the bar starts to empty out and you decide it’s better if you head home as well.

“We have to take care of the equipment, are you leaving or do you want to wait for me?” Harry asks you.

“We’ll just call an Uber, don’t worry about it,” you smile at him.

“Alright, see you at home.”

You say goodbye to Sarah and Mitch and part your ways with them as you and Rite head outside.

“I hope you noticed how Harry was looking at you,” Rita smirks at you when the two of you are sitting at the back of the Uber.

“What are you talking about?” you sigh leaning your head against the seat.

“I caught him staring at you quite a few times.”

“He was just probably looking at me when I was talking. Don’t try to talk something into it that’s not true.”

“Alright, I’ll stop,” she replies holding up her hands. “But I still think you are missing out on some amazing dick.”

You awkwardly glance at the driver who is hearing everything you say, but Rita seemingly doesn’t mind that you’re not alone.

“You know what? We should give Tinder a try.”

“What? Why?”

“If you don’t want to make a move on your hot flatmate, we need to get some satisfaction from others.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Oh, you are not,” she chuckles. “But you will be when you match with the hottest guys on campus.”

You let Rita believe that she convinced you to sign up for Tinder, but you get out of the car with the intention of never downloading the app, like ever.

Walking into the apartment you grab a clean, oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties since your sleeping shorts are all dirty, but you were planning to do the laundry tomorrow. You decide it’s not a big deal and the shirt will probably cover enough of your body.

You take a quick shower to get off the thick smell of the bar that’s stuck on your skin, taking your time moisturizing yourself once you’re done. When you get dressed you see that the shirt does cover your bum, but if you lifted your arms up it surely shows a big portion of your ass, so you’ll have to be careful if Harry arrives.

You’re lounging on the couch watching a rerun of House M.D. and scrolling through your phone when Harry arrives.

“Hey there, rockstar!” you greet him teasingly and he just chuckles shyly.

“Is it gonna be my new nickname?”

“Well, you really were one tonight, so I think yes,” you nod making him laugh. Walking further inside his eyes stop on your bare legs and he is quick to notice that you’re not wearing any pants, like you usually do. You immediately tug on the end of the shirt to cover more of your skin, but it’s not really working.

“Ehm, I’ll go and take a quick shower,” he informs you before disappearing in his room first and then rushing into the bathroom.

Looking down at your attire you decide it’ll be better if you threw on some sweats. Harry clearly got a little uncomfortable seeing you so bare, so it’s better to cover up. You’ll just take them off when you go to bed.

Harry doesn’t take too long in there, and when he joins you on the couch you are pretty sure he took a cold shower since no steam followed him when he left the bathroom. His eyes flicker to your now covered legs, but he doesn’t say anything, just makes himself comfortable next to you.

“You like it?” he asks nodding at the TV.

“Yeah, he is such an asshole, but it’s funny,” you huff. “Hey, I took a few pictures tonight. Wanna see if you like any of them?”

“Sure,” he nods pushing himself up a little as you unlock your phone and show him the photos you took of him and the band while performing.

Some of them ended up really cool, you were able to catch the lights and their movements just the right way, especially one stands out where he was holding out a note, basically screaming into the mic, he really looks like a rockstar on that one.

“Can you send me this one?”

“Done,” you smile at him and glancing over you see that he opens the Instagram app on his phone. You watch him crop and adjust it a little bit, then tag his bandmates and finally, he posts it.

“Wow, this is the first picture on your page with you actually on it,” you tease him.

“So you’ve been stalking my profile?” he smirks at you.

“I wanted to check you out before I moved in, but your social media was no help in that.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of posting that much, but this was a cool picture.”

“It’s an honor to know that I took the first one featuring you.”

“Actually, this is the second one, but it is the first one where my face is visible,” Harry tells you before turning his attention back to the TV, but the gears start to turn wildly in your mind, trying to remember which picture could be the other one.

Later, when you’re lying in your bed with your door closed, you pull up his profile and stat scrolling down. Most of the pictures fall out, because they have absolutely no trace of any human being on them. But then you stop at the one that features a black silhouette of a man, the one you thought wasn’t him.

Opening up you tap on the tag and see that it leads to Mitch’s profile, but now that you’ve met him, you’re pretty sure it’s not him in the picture. So you take a closer look and as you go over the small details, like the line of his neck, how wide his shoulders are and the untamed curls, you soon realize that it is indeed Harry in the photo.

You push down a moan when realization sets in, because that means that you’re staring at the naked silhouette of Harry and it immediately starts a fire between your legs.

“Jesus,” you whisper as you let yourself stare at the photo a little longer. You weren’t expecting it, but it’s surely making you feel some kind of way.

Locking your phone you throw it to your nightstand before you bury your head into your pillow. You have to press your thighs together quite tightly to make the throbbing sensation stop so you can finally fall asleep. Well, it takes some time before that happens and it’s quite torturous.

  Unlike how you planned, Rita finally gets you to download Tinder and give it a try. She helps you set up your profile, and though at first it feels incredibly awkward, you slowly adjust to being out there on the virtual market.

You start swiping left and right whenever you are bored during classes or you’re having a break from studying. Your matches start to pile up and soon enough you start getting messages as well. You reply to the ones you like or find funny and creative, giving them a chance, but not many end up going too far. Somehow the conversations always die down and you lose interest in the person.

Only one guy gets as far as asking you out and getting a yes as an answer. Jordan is a physics major and seemed like a nice and funny guy through the messages, good-looking too, so you decided to give it a go.

So Friday evening you dolled yourself up, put on a nice blouse with your favorite skinny jeans and black heels, ready to head out to your first ever Tinder date.

As you walk out of your room you find Harry in the kitchen in his basketball shorts and a simple black t-shirt making himself a cup of tea. The shorts are hanging low on his waist and as he reaches up to get the hones from the cupboard you get a glimpse of the soft skin on his lower waist. You quickly look away before you could have any further thoughts about what else is under the waistband of his shorts.

“Oh, where are you heading all dressed up?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“I actually have a date,” you admit nervously as you grab your keys and put it away in your purse.

“Lucky guy,” he smiles and you can feel your cheeks heating up again. There’s just something in the way he compliments you, it makes your knees go jelly.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later? I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” you tell him grabbing your jacket from the hanger next to the front door.

“Have fun,” he nods before you walk out.

 Jordan proves himself to be quite frankly the same guy you got to know through messages. He takes you to this Mexican themed bar and you are just chatting over some exciting looking cocktails, but you find yourself zoning out sometimes.

What is Harry doing right now? Is he staying at home? I should have asked if he had any plans. Maybe he is hooking up with someone right now.

You find yourself thinking about way more than you probably should and it’s making you lose your shit. So maybe this is why, or because Rita told you to just go with the flow, but when Jordan asks if you want to go up to his place you say yes.

It’s as awkward and bad as you were expecting, unfortunately. There’s a reason why you don’t hook up with every random guy you go out with once. You are totally on different pages, but when you are lying under him on his bed, you just know there’s no way out.

It’s not that he forces you, because you’re sure he would have stopped if you asked, but it would be so awkward to just walk out because you weren’t feeling the vibe. So at least one of you should enjoy it.

You should deserve an Oscar for that orgasm you fake, it’s so believable. Jordan doesn’t seem to notice that you felt absolutely nothing, just frustration and impatience, he tries to make you stay the night, but you save yourself with a lie that you have to wake up early in the morning so it’s best if you head home.

Your frustration just grows on your way home. You were really hoping to get laid tonight, so maybe that could stop you from fantasizing about Harry, because your thoughts have been wild since you found out that he is the one on that Instagram picture. It doesn’t help that he has been walking around shirtless quite a lot.

Shameful or not, you even touched yourself once thinking about him. You were home alone after a particularly boring day so you thought you’d just get yourself off. Before you could realize where your thoughts have wandered, you were moaning his name as you came hard. You couldn’t look into his eyes that day when he came home, he probably thought you were nuts, basically running away from him.

It’s almost midnight when you get back home, you were expecting Harry to be asleep by now since he has band practice in the morning, but you are surprised to see light coming from his room. As you close the front door, kicking your heels off he walks out, of course, without a shirt, his glorious body on full display.

“Hey, how was your date?” he asks as you step to the fridge to get yourself something to drink. You’ve been so damn thirsty since Jordan was… done with you, you could have asked for some water at least, but you just wanted to leave as fast as possible.

“Ugh, don’t even ask,” you whine, leaning against the counter.

“That bad?”

“Worse,” you roll your eyes and Harry chuckles softly.

“Come on, it couldn’t be that bad if you came home so late.”

“Well, it did start off nice, but I shouldn’t have said yes when he asked if I wanted to go to his place.”

“Oh.”

“Worst sex of my life, I wanted out the moment we arrived, to be honest,” you honestly say, feeling a little weird that you’re talking to Harry about it, but you just want to get it off your chest.

“Then why didn’t you just leave?”

“Dunno, I just… I was hoping for just a little satisfaction, but I guess I asked for too much,” you sigh finishing up your water and you walk past him with the intention to grab your pajamas and have a shower that would wash away the happenings of the night, but Harry’s voice stops you.

“Not everything is lost just yet.” Turning around you give him a puzzled look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He bites into his bottom lip and lets his eyes travel down your body, his intent gaze sends a shiver down your spine. When his eyes return to your gaze your heart is wildly beating against your chest.

“I mean that… I can make you feel good, if you want.”

Your mouth hangs open and your eyebrows shoot up at the blunt offer he just made. At first you’re not even sure you heard him right, but as you replay his words you realize that you indeed heard him crystal clear.

“Are you messing with me right now?” you ask, feeling like it’s all just a joke. He did not just offer to satisfy you because you complained to him about how bad your date was.

Harry takes a few steps closer to you, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“Not really. You want to get off and I would love to be the one to help you with it.”

“But… we live together,” you say and realize how stupid this just sounded, but you hope he gets what you were trying to say.

“So? Does that mean we can’t fuck?”

The way he said that makes your legs go weak for sure. You’ve been fantasizing about things similar to this, but those were nowhere near to actually hear him propose the idea of fucking.

“But… it’ll be weird, won’t it?”

“Only if we make it.”

He walks closer, closing the distance between the two of you and he cups your cheek in his hand as his eyes flicker down to your lips.

“Harry…” you breathe out, but you already know you gave in. There’s no way you can say him no, not after weeks of dreaming about the exact same thing.

“Just stop thinking,” he tells you before pressing his lips against yours.

He kisses you hard and you gladly let his tongue push into your mouth within a second, kissing him back with the same passion. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands travel down on your sides until they reach your ass and they give it a bold squeeze, making you moan into his lips. You feel him grin as his hands move over to your thighs and he urges you to jump and so you do, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Though you keep your eyes closed, kissing him hard, you can tell he brings you to the couch, laying you down to your back, holding himself up above you. He starts kissing down your jawline and neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin. His hands grab the hem of your shirt and you lift yourself up a bit so he can pull it off, throwing it away to somewhere behind the couch. While his lips are sucking on your breasts wherever they are bulging out from the lacy bra, his hands work fast on your jeans, undoing the button and the zipper, tugging them down until you can just kick them right off.

“Matching set? You were really counting on having a good time tonight,” he mumbles against your tummy as he kisses his way down on your body.

His right hand reaches up and cups your breast before it slides under you and easily unclasps your bra. You quickly slide the straps off and throw it to the side, so now you are lying under him only in your panties, whimpering and panting at every kiss he leaves on your body.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he hums glancing up at you, sitting between your legs as he slides just one finger over your soaking wet panties, running it along your throbbing center.

“Fuck, I want you,” you breathe out.

“How exactly do you want me?”

“Jesus, just eat me out, Harry!” you shamelessly moan and he smugly smirks before he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down, throwing it to the ground.

Now you’re lying completely naked in front of him, and he pushes your knees farther apart, looking down at you with lustful eyes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he growls as he gets closer and without a warning, he licks into you.

You moan in sensation as he starts sucking on your clit, his tongue working perfectly against your bud. Your hands find their way into his hair and you grab a handful of it in each. Oh, how many times you’ve thought about doing this!

“Harry!” you cry out when you feel him push a finger into you, slowly pumping it in and out a few times before he adds another to it. He quickly picks up his pace as he keeps sucking on your clit, getting you closer to your orgasm with every lick.

“Fuck, I’m so close!” you moan, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to even breathe.

“Cum for me, baby,” he mumbles against your wet clit and just a few more pumps later you came, screaming his name.

“Fucking hell, Harry!” you breathe out when he climbs up on you smirking.

“You think you can handle another one?” he asks, pecking your lips softly. Looking down you see how hard he is and even if you were on the verge of dying you would have said yes. There’s no way you let him get up from this couch unsatisfied after the orgasm he just gave you.

Instead of saying anything, you push on him until he is sitting on the couch and you have your knees on his sides.

“I think you are a little overdressed, aren’t you?” you ask teasingly as you bring a hand down to his erection, cupping it through his shorts and underwear.

Harry cranes his neck so his lips could meet yours again as he lifts his hips up, pushing his shorts down along with his boxers. You sit back down to his lap and his erection presses against your wet folds making you moan into his mouth.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” you ask breathlessly, but Harry shakes his head.

“I would last, I just want to fuck you,” he growls and you swear to God that was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Condom, we need a condom,” you tell him, still kissing his lips.

You get off him and he quickly runs into his room, shortly returning with a condom between his teeth. He rips the package on his way and falls back to the couch, rolling it on carefully. When he is done you swing your leg over him and get on top again, holding onto his broad shoulders. He grabs the base of his cock and lines himself up to your center and you give yourself a moment to admire his naked beauty right in front of you.

You look into his sparkling eyes and leaning down you kiss him hard as you slowly ease down to his length, his cock slowly filling you up fully.

“Oh fuck!” he moans at the feeling of you around him. His fingers dig deep into your waist as you stay still for a few moments, adjusting to his length. “You alright?” he asks breathlessly. Your eyes meet his and you nod a little before you start moving.

It takes a few moments to find the right pace and get yourself comfortable, but when you finally do, you just can’t stop. His hands are on your ass as he guides your hips a little and you feel the rings on his fingers against your heated skin. He buries his face into your neck nibbling and kissing on the soft skin wherever he reaches.

“Fuck, you look so fucking hot, Y/N,” he grunts when you let your head fall back, feeling your orgasm slowly building up again.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum again,” you pant, picking up a faster pace, desperate for release.

“Cum for me, baby. Let me make you feel good!” he moans wrapping his arms around you as he holds you still, stopping you from moving, but instead he starts thrusting into you, his cock buries so deep into your pussy, your eyes roll back into your head from the feeling.

“Yes! Don’t fucking stop!” you scream as he keeps fucking you hard.

It doesn’t take too long until you fall completely apart and cum again, your legs basically turning into jelly. Just a few thrusts later Harry cums as well, thrusting deep into you a few more times as he moans into your neck.

You lie completely numb on him, his fingers gently stroking your naked back as you try to come back to reality. When you lean back and your eyes meet again you are still speechless.

“I’ve literally wanted it since the day you walked into this place,” he admits with a soft chuckle.

“Really?” you giggle shyly.

“Oh, really. Seeing you around, sometimes without a bra under your shirt completely killed me most of the time.”

Your cheeks are heating up, you didn’t think he noticed when you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Don’t be so shy, you have amazing tits, you are not allowed to wear a bra anymore around here,” he teases you grinning as you laugh and leaning down you kiss him shortly.

“I had quite a few fantasies about you too,” you admit making him raise his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Mhm, especially after you walked out of the bathroom naked, even though I didn’t even see your dick then.”

Harry chuckles lightly as he pushes his hair back from his forehead, resting his head against the back of the couch.

“So…” you shyly start, ”what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that… we live together and we just fucked. What does this mean for the future?”

“Well, I thought that next time we could do it the right way. I could take you out on a proper date, and then fuck you on the kitchen counter.”

You laugh at how blunt he is, but you love the idea he just proposed.

“Okay. Sounds fine by me.”

[duskypinkbow]

Shitty weather II Jeff Wittek

summary: You meet Jeff again after a long period of time.

word count: 3,4k (upsy daisy)

note: This is my first fic ever so pls bear with me! :)

A veery very big shoutout to my lil angle @geoffwittek for proofreading and correcting my mistakes! Love u gurl u r the best 🎀

“The house could be packed“ Natalie took the time to warn you. You waved her off while putting your bag between your legs „that’s totally fine“.

As you two drove through LA traffic you looked out at the sky and noticed the clouds are getting grey. „it might rain today..“ you determined, while the two of you continued your conversation. Finally, you pulled up at her house, or to be more specific, David’s house she happened to be living in. Nat parked the car in front of the gate due to the fact that the entrance was already blocked by other cars. Your friend looked at her phone „yeeep“ she said as the scrolled through her messages „there is definitely something going on here…“ - „oh, well I can always leave right away if it gets too much“ you promised while unbuckling your seatbelt and making your way to the house.

„Daaaaavid!“ she screamed, falling to the ground in fear. „You can’t do that to me!“ she complained as her hands rested over her heart. The brown-haired boy giggled, his phone still recording in his hands. After putting it back in his pocket he helped Natalie stand up again. „That’s my idiot roommate..“ Natalie explained to you. „aaaaand boss“ he added smugly, smiling from ear to ear. He stuck his hand out towards you. „David“ he said - „y/n“ you introduced yourself in return.

Once the introductions were done, you observed a big living room further down the hallway. „Come with me…“ Natalie instructed “I’m gonna show you my closet“. You followed her steps through the living room, which was indeed packed with people. Some of them sitting on the big white couch while others were leaning on the kitchen island. Natalie greeted them with a shouted hello, while you just waved shyly in an attempt to symbolise a well meant greeting to all of them.

In the bedroom, your best friend showed you her very well organised closet filled with dresses and fancy skirts alike. „What size shoes are you?“ she asked. “umm.. y/s/s..“ you answered while looking through the endless hangers. „damn, so I can’t give you those fanc-„ before she could even finish her sentence a loud „Naaataaalieee“ came from the hallway. „ugh“ she groaned, reluctantly setting the pair of high heels down. “I’ll be right back..“ you softly nodded and continued to look through her closet.

After some time had passed you still couldn’t decide between three of her alluring dresses. You put the hanger of one of them above your head so that it was hanging clearly in front of your body. „Oh you would look so cute in that one!“ Natalie said as she was re-entering her room. You smiled at your reflection in the big mirror. „Don’t you think it’s a bit too much for a wedding?“ you asked, still a little uncertain. „Absolutely not!“ she denied your worries. „When is the wedding anyways?“ - „in like three month..“ you answered, still glancing in the mirror while posing a little for yourself in assessment. „Then just take this one and the other two… you can decide closer to the day.“ you looked up, in slight disbelief at her offer.  „I mean it..“ she asserted „I won’t need them…at least not in the next couple of months“ her words reassuring you.

With the dresses in your arms, you made your way to the hall in order to leave the big house again. You waved your goodbyes to the people still sitting and chatting in the living room.

As you made a turn in the hallway your head collided with a solid chest, your body almost falling down at the sudden loss of balance. Instead, two hands rested on your shoulders, effectively preventing the fall. „sorry i didn’t see-“ you said while looking up to be met with a pair of brown eyes. Your mouth remained slightly open, the rest of the apology stuck in your throat. It’s been almost six years since you last saw him.

~ 

You met on a rainy day in late autumn. Your clothes soaking wet as you stepped through the door of the studio. „shitty weather out there huh?“ first words he ever spoke to you. „tell me about it“ you nodded, focused on trying to wring out your soaked hair. „I don’t think that will help“ he chuckled lightly. The first time you heard his laugh, the handsome boy looked at you with a little smirk. „heey..can we get a hairdryer or somethin’ for her?“ he requested the man who was passing through the room, his right hand pointing in your direction. „Yeah I can grab one, you guys here for the shoot?“ the employee asked. Both of you nodded simultaneously „Perfect. Could you get ready in here?“ he instructed you on where to go and promised someone would bring the hairdryer.

It was silent on your way in before he decided to end the quiet by asking: „Sooo..is this your first job?“ - „umm, second“ you answered shyly, a bit intimidated by his hight, especially next to your smaller figure. „Is it that obvious?“ you asked, now a little embarrassed, questioning if you already did something wrong. He chuckled again „not at all“ he reassured, holding the correct door open for you „Jus’ wanted to start a conversation “ you smiled, feeling your cheeks flush at his straightforwardness.

„Yeah, I actually have another job in like two weeks“ you said while on the phone, a little after you two began to take some photos for the launching clothing line. „No…- I guess.. - no I need to find a new place for that time.. - yeah.. - worst case scenario I will just go to a hostel or rent a cheap hotel room…- i mean I’m just sleeping there right? - no yeah...i understand.. - i should really get going now.. - i’ll call you back okay? okay.. bye“ you end the call and return next to the tall stranger you just met, waiting for instructions on what’s next in the shoot.

„uhmm“ he begins shyly, still looking to the cameraman who was adjusting his camera. „not to be nosey..but did i hear that right? You need a place to live or something?“ you looked at his side profile, explaining your current situation. „Alright, so about that..“ he interrupts, glancing between you and photographer. „A friend of mine has a spare room going in his apartment. He’s actually already looking for a new roommate, but that could be postponed. If you want to I could call him up and ask if it would be okay for you to stay there?” - „wait.. deadass?“ you ask, his generous offer shocking you. „well, I mean only if you want to?“  He looked down to observe your reaction. „I- yeah..- i mean your friend won’t murder me right?“ you joke, looking up and into his warm. He’s the first to break the eye contact, glancing at the cameraman again. „He’s one of the nicest guys I know out there…“ he assures with a small smile present. „He is so fucking nice, wouldn’t even kill a fly…“ his words of comfort continue. „Well, then yes, please I am totally willing to take you up on that offer“ is your enthusiastic response, his full attention back on you & a genuine smile decorating the handsome features. „Alright...I will ask him after the shoot is over then..“ - „Thank you so much!… it really means a lot -...umm?“ you begin, hopeful of catching his name „Oh shit yeah, guess I never introduced myself right?“ the man realised. „..My name is Jeff“ he said, reaching out for your hand „Yeah right“ you chuckle, not about to fall for his joke. „No, really..“ the smirk is back on his face. „Oh, so you are an undercover police officer just like me?“ you whisper, hoping he might catch the 21 Jumpstreet reference. „damn..“ he mutters while searching in his back pocket „this fuckin’ movie really ruined my life..“ his hand emerges with a wallet, the ID in it soon handed to you. „Jeffery Wittek..“ you read aloud „the one and only..“ he confirms still smiling softly at you.

After the shoot was over Jeff called up his friend, confirming it would be alright if you stayed with him. The very next day he helped you take all of your stuff over to his friend’s apartment.

In the weeks that followed, the two of you grew inevitably close. Although both busy with work & other responsibilities on some days, you still managed to spend at least a few hours each day together.

Sometimes he just checked in on you, making sure to ask if everything was alright. On other occasions, he visited his friend and stayed the whole day to do nothing but spending time together.

You showed him pictures of places you have been to, in return, he would share his childhood memories. You even told him about your plans for the future, while Jeff opened up about his past. It became your favourite pass time to make jokes about his inability to read properly, to which he would only tease about your short height.

Throughout your stay, the pair of you talked almost every night, about everything, just because it came so easily between you two. Always enjoying every second of valuable time together, not wanting it to end.

One of those nights, you finally built enough courage to admit that you were moving out of the country to live in Italy with your boyfriend. In reply, Jeff confessed his plans to move out to LA cause he met a girl.

Your friendship started innocently. Neither of you would have thought that it could ever build into such an intense and deep connection within the short amount of time. You were strangers only days ago, now openly sharing secrets usually too afraid to tell even the closest of friends. Maybe it was because both of you understood the reflected lack of ulterior motives in honesty. After all, you made sure to just keep things friendly, flirting carefully avoided. Or because you knew both of you were leaving, that alone reason enough not be dishonest with each other. Whatever it was, it started to become a little dangerous with time, you all too aware that the two of you were playing with the fire.

Time continued to pass, you could feel yourself begin to like the familiar boy more and more. Your heart would beat faster any time you saw him, breathing stopping for a second every time his skin touched yours. It continued on: you would get lost in his beautiful eyes whenever he looked at you, asking yourself if he could feel the same way you were. If there could ever be more. You did your best to stop those thoughts immediately, reminding your mind how you were about to leave the country for your boyfriend, whom you loved and didn’t want to betray. Besides, Jeff started to see that girl.

One night, Jeff's friend decided to hold a little get together with some of his friends, your stay in the apartment effectively forcing you to take part. Everyone had their fun, all chatting & playing drinking games on a cheerful night.

After a while, some of you somehow ended up on the rooftop of the building. Most of the people out there just wanting to get a bit of fresh air or have a cigarette, but you went up solely to enjoy the view. You loved going up to the roof just to see the shining lights of the city that doesn’t sleep.

„So your stay here is coming to an end huh?“ Jeff was the one to interrupt your admiring, walking up to you, while you looked out to the lights. You nodded „yeah“ the word spat out sadly before taking another sip of your drink. „I never thought three weeks could be over with so quickly..“ his words carried a sad undertone. „Me neither..“ you acknowledged, „i think i did and saw more in those three weeks with you than ever before“ he chuckled at the true words. „yeah.. we experienced quite a lot of New York together“ he made sure to exaggerate with his accent, sight remaining locked on you.

When you finally looked up at him, you couldn’t help but tease „So.. Is the tough Wittek gonna miss me?“ you asked jokingly while running your hand through his wind tousled hair. „Of course i will.“ he admitted. „Haven’t had so much fun in a long time..“. A smile sneaked its way across your face „oh your gonna have fun again when you are reunited with your special lady.“ you rebutted, oblivious to how his smile faded a little. Of course he would have fun again he thought. But the girl he was seeing right now wasn’t you. She was funny, but her humour couldn’t compare to yours. She was beautiful but she didn’t have those cute little dimples, which only showed when you laughed aloud. She had a promising career in front of her, but she just wasn’t you. „I guess…“ he eventually replied, still deep in thought about the girl who couldn’t compare.

You took another sip of your drink and gazed away into the distance before finally glancing at the man who had your heart.  „I think you- ..you have a little eyelash on your cheek“ Jeff said, abandoning his drink in favour of stepping a little closer and moving his hands up to your face.

One of them rested gently on your cheek, to give your head some balance as he titled it upwards, the other grazing right under your eye to get the fallen lash. His fingers lightly brushed over your skin, grasp so gentle on your face as if it was something precious. As if it could break if he put too much pressure on your little cheek. It was the very first time you really let yourself look him in the eyes tonight. Not that you haven’t looked into the brown pools before, but this time, in the light of the city, just inches away from your face, you really saw the artistic strokes of the different shades of brown melting together. You saw how the dark parts covered up the few light spots,  saw his kindness and how much he truly cared about you, all by simply looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

His hand stayed on your cheek, despite the lash being long gone. You breathed out audibly, lost in the present moment. The scent of his cologne travelling up and into your nose in the proximity you two shared right now. „we should-..probably get back to the party…“ he whispers slowly, involuntarily glancing at your lips while his palm moved from its hold on your cheek to the back of your neck. „mhmm“ you could only hum lightly in response, feeling your heart starting to beat faster, slowly rising to your tippy toes. Your face is slowly inching closer to his &  then you can feel his breath on your lips, eyes starting to close on their own accord, the two of you so close and right before your lips could touch - „Paarty time!“ one of Jeff's friend accidentally interrupts, tipsy shouting entering the rooftop. The two of you pull back immediately, not wanting him or anyone else to witness the kiss you almost shared. The friend walks obliviously towards Jeff. „man we thought you’ve left already!“ his word stuttered drunkenly. „No, I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye“ he chuckles away as if  the moment you two just had never happened.

You had three more days in New York after that slip up before you finally left for Europe. Neither Jeff nor you mentioned the moment you two had together. After that night, and after you both finally sobered up, you convinced yourself that Jeff was too drunk to even remember what could have happened. His own thoughts were similar. Both of you far too scared to say something and ruin the time left. You were too embarrassed because Jeff had already started to date that girl he thought he liked, not to forget you were in a relationship with a boy you thought you were in love with . Both too cowardly to admit that there is indeed a spark there.

As your last day has come Jeff and his friend escorted you to the airport. „Man it will be so weird not having you around anymore y/n“ Jeffs friend said while driving through New York traffic. You looked out of the window in the backseat of the car. „I’m really gonna miss this..“ you stated, now slyly looking at Jeff, sitting in the passenger seat without returning your longing glances. In reality, what you would really miss..is him. You would miss his high pitched laugh, dark sense of humour and dry jokes, his warm and caring hugs and especially, his presence in your life. Not knowing if you would ever see him again or if you will ever come back to America again.

Jeff and his friend lead you to your gate, saying their goodbyes, promising to visit you in Italy someday, assuring that you’ll always be welcome if you decide to return. You hugged your new friend, who allowed you to stay in his apartment so graciously  before looking up at Jeff. ��Come here..“ he says, opening his arms for your embrace. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his head resting atop of yours. You breathed in heavily, trying to hold back the inevitable tears. He stroked your back in comfort „I’m really gonna  miss you y/n/n..“ he conceded in a whisper. „me too..“ you admitted as well. „Promise me we will see each other again?“ Jeff asked, now looking down at you, while your own gaze travelled up to his eyes. You smiled sadly „I promise..“ you nodded with watery eyes. He hugged you again, saying your last goodbyes before you left to get your flight.

~

Jeff’s hair was slightly wet from the rain outside, a similar expression of shock on his face.„wow..uh, what?“ you let out, first to break the silence between you. „wow…“ he repeated dumbfounded. His hands were still resting holding onto your upper arms before he eventually raised them to his head in an act of disbelief. He shook his head, not sure if this was really happening right now, if it was really you in front of him. „I-„ you started again, but before you could keep talking he quickly forced you into a tight embrace.

His hands went back to your shoulders, still unsure if it was really you „This is insane..“  He muttered eventually, „it is..“ you confirmed. „How long has it been?“ Jeff was quick to ask while you still struggled to grasp the situation. „Almost 6 years..“ you uttered lightly.

„How’s Vince?“ he couldn’t help but ask with interest. „Oh...we uh, we broke up a while ago..“ you admitted, remembering your days in Italy. „oh I’m so sorry.“ the reply was sympathetic. „Yeah..how is Cierra?“ you asked in return, curious about the girl he started to see when you guys just met. Jeff glanced over into the living room, suddenly aware of all who were witnessing your reunion. „we also broke up a while ago..“. The information delivered with no emotions. You nodded lightly, unsure on how exactly to react or respond.

You checked your phone to look at what time it was, „I should probably go now..“ you mentioned, breaking the short moment of silence between you two. „Yeah..“ Jeff nodded, freeing your way to the exit. As made your very first step towards the door he stopped you by saying „Listen, before you go, can i get your num-“ before he could even end his sentence you interrupted „-just ask Natalie for it“ you informed him, „‚cause if you won’t, i’ll promise you that i will..“ you stepped closer to the door while teasing. „I’m not gonna lose touch with you again Wittek..“ you reveal and he chuckles.

Just when you were reaching for the front door again Jeff stopped you „y/n..“ you turn to look back at him, seeing that his stretched out hand held an umbrella „Here, take this..“ he demands softly „S’shitty weather out there..“ he adds with a little knowing smirk.

[herradhighpriestess]

Artificially Sweetened Sodomy

Chapter Three: Whores are Easier to Deal With

Kari pressed her lips together, wincing as she compressed the broken skin as she considered the weight of her situation. “What do I do?” her mind asked on a scream.

Tig nearly choked on the cloud of his exhaled smoke as he watched her pink tongue dart out and moisten her lips.

He was mesmerized by the small movement and didn’t realize at first that she was nodding slightly.

“You’re sure you’re not going to be a problem?” he asked and tried to maintain a cool façade.

Kari nodded again, a little stronger this time.

“Yeah?” he asked as he cocked an inky black eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Kari finally mumbled and rubbed her fingertips against her throbbing temples. She longed for her mostly effective rapid-release migraine medication as she was certain her skull was splitting at the seams.

She looked over when a metallic tinkling noise fell around her ears and she found her abductor holding out a dented flask towards her.

“No thanks,” she finally said and sat up straighter in the seat, thinking alcohol wouldn’t do any good for her head except make her pay less attention and notice details that might be important for later.

Tig pretended to not notice her barely suppress a flinch when he moved away from the door and pulled on the plastic handle. “Where’s the tracker?” he asked as he patted the seat between them.

“There’s no point in denying it,” she thought in the small space before she answered. “Behind the water pump,” Kari mumbled as she stared straight ahead, feeling his eyes memorizing her, practically touching her with the weight of his gaze.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he pulled a warm soda from the nylon bag and held it out to her.

“Thanks,” she murmured and took the brightly colored aluminum can from him, careful to avoid their fingers brushing against each other.

“We’ll get out of here in a minute,” he murmured, and she watched him slide out of the sturdy vehicle and pop the broad hood.

Kari found herself gulping the soda as Tig removed and destroyed the government-issued tracker and did a once-over the rest of the SUV before getting back behind the wheel and cranking the large engine to life.

Tig glanced over his shoulder at her as she drummed her fingers on the tops of her thighs and stared down at the floor. He felt a strange sensation slide around inside his gut and light up his central nervous as he found her fingers bare, devoid of any jewelry. “Do you belong to someone?” he thought before he spoke.

“You want to sit up here Agent Stillwater, it’s a little bit of a drive.”

Kari shook her head. “I’m okay here and please no more Agent stuff, can you just call me Kari?”

The pull of his lips into an unreadable smile both frightened and made Kari have a glut of questions.

“As long as you call me Tig,” he murmured as he turned around further in the driver’s seat and they locked eyes.

“What?” Kari finally asked as his expression remained neutral and he remained silent. She wasn’t sure if she should feel like prey on the Serengeti or a pilot fish living symbiotically with a Great White shark.

Tig shook his head. “Nothing,” he muttered as he got the bulky vehicle moving and eventually spilled back onto the interstate.

Kari kept her hands clasped together in her lap as he pushed the accelerator to a comfortable cruising speed, careful to not draw the attention of the CHP.

Tig kept nervously moving his hands around the steering wheel as he kept glancing up at her in the rearview mirror.

She shifted uncomfortably on the seat, her multiple layers and Kevlar vest making her sweat profusely, her anxiety leeched from her pores and she could smell how unpleasantly fragrant she was becoming.

Tig felt his chest tighten when his name fell from her lips.

“Tig?”

He looked up in the mirror and met her eyes. “Yes?”

Kari cleared her throat. “Can I have one of those cigarettes?”

“Yeah, here,” he said and passed her the pack and dark green lighter.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, eager to have the acrid cigarette smoke to drown out her body odor.

Tig noticed how she began shifting on the seat as she took slow, deliberate drags off the cigarette. He heard her chuckle and quickly cover her smile when she caught him looking.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

Kari shook her head and retrieved the empty soda can off the floorboard to flick her ashes into. “Just when I thought I was finally going to stop smoking.”

As Tig paid better attention to the sudden stoppage of traffic, back at the Wit Sec house, agents and local police swarmed. Doors were kicked in and windows ripped off in questioning everyone about the abducted agent.

As agents descended on Charming and looked everywhere for their missing agent, Tig continued towards the cheap motel and long-term rentals, at one point, he dumped the Yukon and stole a paneled van, nearly beige with the layer of dirt. Kari slid onto the passenger seat, not wanting to sit on the bare, metal floor of the rear of the van.

They were about half an hour from the motel, Kari had lapsed into a comfortable silence as she stared out the window at everything moving by. “Talk to her,” Tig ordered himself as he glanced over at her, he considered that she was most likely in some kind of medical shock.

“How long you been working ATF?” Tig finally asked, drawing out his words.

Kari glanced over at him and pulled one of the three remaining cigarettes from the pack and offered him one of his own. He accepted and watched her light hers before she offered her lit one in trade for his.

Tig made sure their fingers brushed and felt a static shock as he pulled hard on the filter her lips had just been touching, tasting her breath.

“Just passed the one-year mark, from what I’ve heard, the Wit Sec babysitting is a hazing of sorts,” she said as she shook her head and rolled down the window a few inches, letting the brisk, clean outside suck in her second-hand smoke.

“What was the original plan when you got there? The witness?” Kari asked while he inhaled and signaled for the off-ramp.

Tig ignored her question and looked at the directions he had jotted on a burger chain napkin.

The motel appeared on the left side and was very underwhelming. The faded blue long-term condos were set in the rear of the property and their room was apparently on the ground-floor corner.

Happy’s friends had someone’s nephew go and check-in at the motel under the false name and stolen credit card. The parking spot for the room was just out of the security camera’s entire sweep and the video was recorded over every twenty-four hours.

Tig put the van in park and looked over at Kari as she looked out the windshield at the piss poor room.

She barely suppressed a finch when his hand fell over her hand where it rested on the armrest.

“It’s a short walk to the room, I’m going to come around and open your door,” Tig murmured.

Kari nodded as he added. “There won’t be any problem getting to the door?”

“I will not be a problem,” she said in a strained voice and stared at the room door through the bug-splattered windshield.

Tig tightened his hand around hers as he spoke, “look at me.”

Kari pressed her lips together and turned her head to meet his startling blue eyes. “No problem?” he rasped musically.

“None,” she whispered and fought the urge to try and yank her hand free.

Tig nodded and released his hold on her before getting out of the van, gathering the duffle bags, and opening her door.

Kari climbed out of the van and waited until he pushed the heavy door closed before following him to the room. He slid the plastic keycard until it beeped and flashed a series of green flashes before he pushed the door open.

She followed him inside and fumbled for a light switch and flooded the room with a wan yellow light. Tig pushed the door closed and slid the extra chain lock in place, in addition to the deadbolt.

He watched Kari look around the dingy room, pale yellow carpets and faux wood paneling the single room, extra sitting space in front of an older model flatscreen tv, closet and small bathroom with a cramped tub and shower.

Tig watched her eyes move over the single queen bed in the middle of the room before she briefly met his eyes and turned her attention to looking for the remote control and the local news. “It’s really cold in here,” she remarked as she flipped though the channels.

“These rooms are generally rented at hourly rates, no one cares about the temperature,” he said and winked when she looked over at him.

Kari settled in the creaky chair and adjusted the volume when the commercial break was over.

Tig took the time to walk into the small bathroom and dial Clay.

Clay picked up at the end of the first ring.

“Brother, you okay?”

Tig leaned against the door frame so he could keep Kari in sight as he half-smiled. “It’s okay, got to the motel, thank Happy.”

“Do you have a guest with you?”

Tig chuckled, “yeah.”

“Is she alive?”

“Very.”

“Is she going to stay that way?”

“Yes.”

Clay was silent for a minute. “Good,” he finally said. “Do you need more money?”

Tig shook head as he answered, “no, I’d like to get stay here a night or two and keep north.”

“Are you coming back brother?”

Tig gave a ragged sigh and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I’ve found something,” he added unhelpfully.

“You always have a home here brother, I hope to meet this something someday. Call if you need anything,” Clay added before he ended the call.

Tig pushed his phone in his back pocket as he watched Kari watch the news and casually loosen her braid until she could run her fingers through her tangled hair.

Kari looked over at him when the loud thump of his boots sounded as he kicked them off before slipping out of his jacket.

Tig stretched out on the bed and slipped one hand behind his head before he patted the empty space next to him when he caught her staring.

Kari scoffed and worked on a stubborn tangle when he patted the bed again.

“No,” she finally said and turned her attention back to the shitty tv screen and pretended to be captivated by the weather report of sunny skies the following day.

“I thought you weren’t going to be a problem,” Tig said and sat up when she turned back to him, anger etched in her tired face. “I’m not but I’m not getting into that bed with you.”

Tig’s mind tried to rapidly put together an approach. He reached for his discarded jacket and drained the flask, wincing as the alcohol burned a hot path down his throat and spread warmth throughout his chest and belly. “You need to do this right,” his mind warned and climbed to his feet.

As Tig rose from the bed, Kari also stood from the creaky chair, tension filling her, a cold trickle moved down the length of her spine.

Tig held his hands up in the air and wiggled his fingers. “I promise I’ll keep my hands wherever you tell me, but you need to get in the fucking bed.”

Kari shook her head, her blood pressure rising as she found it hard to breathe with the compression of the vest. She felt herself getting overheated despite how chilly the room was.

Tig’s eyes moved over her face, he could practically see the coiled tension inside her, electricity building and threatening to shoot from her fingers.

“You gotta keep this shit together,” he thought and kept his hands outstretched. “Get in the bed, you have to be tired. I’m not going to do anything out of line.”

Kari narrowed her eyes at him, unable to judge the veracity of his words since he was there to kill that young witness. She fought to keep her shoulders back despite the appeal of laying down and closing her eyes, especially getting out of the fucking vest.

“What if I wanted to stay in that chair instead?” she asked, her voice steady.

Tig shook his head, “it’ll be cold sitting up all night.”

“I’ll risk freezing to death.”

“I can’t have that happen; a dead ATF agent isn’t good.”

“Kidnapping and assault is fine though?” she asked on a scoff.

Tig stood up taller, every moment spent with Kari reaffirming why he liked dealing with whores, livestock and the comatose.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Restaurateur wreaks algorithmic vengeance upon Doordash

Gig economy delivery apps claim that they're operating "two-sided markets," connecting delivery people with restaurants. Actually, they're useless, overcapitalized, predatory, money-haemorrhaging parasites.

They raise titanic sums of money from the likes of Softbank (a front for Saudi oil money) and then pay sub-starvation wages to riders while extracting such massive commissions from restaurants (disguised as "advertising fees," etc) that they lose money on the transaction.

The stupidest part? The gig delivery companies ARE ALSO LOSING MONEY. Like Uber, Wework and other Softbank-backed boondoggles, these companies aren't profitable and never will be. They exist solely to attain "scale" whereupon they can be sold off to suckers in an IPO.

If the investors can keep these bleeding giants alive long enough, they can give them the appearance of durability - "If Uber's lasted a decade, it must be sustainable" - which lets them cash out.

It's a con, and it demolishes the real businesses it preys on, the workers who do the gig work, and the investors that the con artists unload their worthless paper on.

Restaurateurs are on the verge of collapse as a result.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/18/politics-of-discouragement/#rent-seekers

And it's self-reproducing. And it's spreading. It's a fucking pandemic. Restaurateurs with no way to fight the companies themselves end up taking it out on the drivers, their fellow infection-sufferers:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/14/everybody-poops/#gotta-go

Sometimes, there's a better way. Rajan Roy is an options trader whose pal has a small chain of pizzerias that don't deliver - but that didn't stop Doordash from listing a delivery option for the restaurants, which Google dutifully added a button for in its search results.

https://themargins.substack.com/p/doordash-and-pizza-arbitrage

But Doordash made a mistake: they underpriced the pizzas. They were offering to sell a $24 pizza for $16. Roy and his friend cooked up a plan to exploit this arbitrage opportunity, and experimented with bulk-ordering the discounted pizzas to a confederate's house.

Every pizza they bought this way represented "pure arbitrage profit." It got even better when the restaurateur stopped bothering to put anything on top of the crusts (which are so cheap as to be effectively free) for these orders.

Eventually they stopped. They also learned that Doordash's "mistake" was a predatory short con where they subsidized deliveries from a prospective business to create the illusion of demand for delivery services, then used that to rope the sucker into opting into Doordash.

But the real kicker is what Roy advised his friend about the game: "given their recent obscene fundraise, they would weirdly enough be happy to lose that money. Some regional director would be able to show top-line revenue growth."

"I imagined their systems might even be built to discourage catching these mistakes because it would detract, or at a minimum distract, from top-line revenue."

After all: Grubhub lost $33m on Q1 revenue of $360m.

Doordash lost $450m on $900m revenue in 2019.

Uber Eats lost $461m on Q419 revenue of $734m. IT IS UBER'S MOST PROFITABLE DIVISION!

The world's economy is being ravaged by a pandemic and may not survive. That pandemic? Capitalism.

[not-close-to-straight]

More Than Words (Spideypool)(One)

Welcome to the story! This will be a time traveling shenanigan ft. Modern!Omega!Peter and Mountain Man!Alpha!Wade! Buckle up for 25 chapters (and growing!) of all the sass, sweetness and smexiness we love about Spideypool!

(For anyone new to my Spideypool: None of these characters are SM:HC/FFH. I pick my faves from Tobey Maguire/Andrew Garfield movies, and everyone else pretty much comes from the comics!)

(also, if anyone cares. The Title is from this cover of THIS SONG)

MTW MASTERLIST HERE

Enjoy!

**************** 

“To Peter, who managed to not only expose a terrible corporation for it’s greed and lack of morals, but also managed to shake Tony Stark’s hand without melting into a puddle of fan boy goo--” 

“Harry!.” Peter pinched the Alpha in the side and Harry oophed theatrically. “Either give me a proper toast or shut the hell up!” 

“I got one, I got one.” Gwen stood and raised her wine glass. “To Peter, who literally changed the world with his expose on Hammer Tech, and proved that the little guy can and does make a difference.” 

Peter rolled his eyes over the little guy comment but raised his drink anyway, and Gwen blew the Omega a kiss. “We are really proud of you Pete. Way to get famous.” 

“Way to get famous!” Johnny cheered and clanked his cup with Peter. “Also? Way to land that hell of a check. How many zeroes were on that thing?” 

“I counted three before the decimal.” Mary Jane tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear and leaned close for a quick kiss on Peter’s cheek. “Way to go, Tiger. Taking on powerful corporations, writing inflammatory exposes and catching the attention of Tony Stark? Not bad for a punky kid from Queens.” 

“It’s not bad.” Peter echoed, tugging the other Omega in for a one sided hug. “And meeting Tony Stark was pretty amazing, even though I think half the reason he gave me the grant was to rub it in Hammer’s face. Apparently those two hate each other.” 

“Look at that.” Johnny drawled. “The rich and famous are just like us , they have petty rivalries and everything.” 

“Hey, if their petty rivalries mean Peter doesn’t have to pay rent for the next year, then keep the bullshit coming!” Gwen decided loudly and Mary Jane murmured an agreeable, “I’ll drink to that.” 

“Was it really enough to pay your rent, Pete?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “All because of your story?” 

“Mr. Stark said something about how I couldn’t focus on saving the world if I was worried about my rent.” Peter shrugged off his friend’s wide eyed disbelief. “So he cut me a check from the Stark Foundation and told me to keep searching for the truth. And now--” despite his attempt at modesty, Peter’s smile stretched wide. “And now I’m not worried about my rent.” 

“So I’m thinking you and I should be roomies now since I would love to not pay rent for a year.” Gwen chimed in and Johnny snorted a laugh. “But let’s circle back to that later, because I found you something amazing when I was out thrift store shopping and this seems like a wildly inappropriate time to give it you, so here we go.” 

Peter shot a curious and maybe suspicious glance towards the usually prank happy Alpha, and tore the wrapping off the box while Harry protested, “I didn’t know we were supposed to bring congratulatory gifts tonight! That’s not fair, way to show us all up, Gwen!” 

“Well Har, I’d say give Pete a chunk of those famous Osborn millions, but I think he’s got the money part covered now.” Johnny leaned back in his chair and cocked his head in a clear challenge to the Alpha. “Which means you got nothing to give him, don’t it? Nothing to offer the Omega at all.” 

“And what exactly are you gonna give him?” Harry retorted, and Johnny bared his teeth as he replied, “Well a kiss, of course. Exactly what every Omega wants from a good lookin’ Alpha.” 

“Giving something I can get anytime isn’t really a present.” Peter deadpanned and Mary Jane giggled at Johnny’s affronted expression. “You give away kisses like you’re going out of business, Johnny. No Omega wants kisses that cheap.” 

“Brat.” Johnny huffed, scowling when Harry chuckled at Peter’s sass. “You’re just irritated you didn’t think of it, Harry. Gwen got Pete a present, I’m offering to give him kisses, so you’re the only Alpha around that doesn’t think enough of Pete to treat him well.” 

Harry’s lip curled in a snarl and Johnny echoed with one of his own, and just as Peter started to look annoyed, MJ cleared her throat and announced, “Boys! Alphas who act like knot heads won’t be invited to any more parties!” 

“Yeah, cut it out.” Gwen gave each of the other Alpha’s a swift kick beneath the table and scowled at them. “Stop ruining Pete’s big day.” 

“... sorry, Pete.” Harry deflated first, Johnny’s muttered apology coming next. “Sorry. Open your present and we’ll behave.” 

“Thanks.” Peter gave each Alpha a sweet smile, and went back to his present, quietly and wholeheartedly grateful for things like scent blockers. 

Nothing was worse for an Omega than getting a nose ful of hormone heavy Alpha scent, and today of all days, Peter didn’t want to play patient with a couple of jealous, horny Alphas. Usually Johnny and Harry were low key about their interest, but lately Johnny’s jokes had skewed towards sexual and intimate while Harry’s friendly protectiveness was inching towards possessive and Peter really just--

--oh God, he really just didn’t want any part of it. 

No thank you.

“Oh my god.” Attention diverted from the Alphas by his present, Peter burst into laughter when he saw-- “Gwen, is this a romance novel? ‘Claimed by the Mountain Alpha’?! Why would you buy me this?” 

“Oh please.” Gwen looked pleased as hell that her gift had made the Omega smile. “I have it on good authority you have an entire shelf full of smutty romances, Pete! And I know all your favorites are falling apart because you read the sexy parts over and over while you--!”

“GWEN!” Peter turned bright red and the Alpha almost cackled with laughter. “For the love of God, stop talking!” 

“I just thought you’d like something to read while you drink your champagne tonight.” Gwen amended, sounding only slightly less wicked. “You can get bubbly drunk and swoon over the x rated parts and I promise to only tease you a little for itt.” 

“Hey now, what an Omega does with their smutty novels--” Mary Jane started to defend Peter, and then paused to ask, “Wait. Were you going to drink champagne alone tonight, Peter? That is the saddest thing I’ve heard in my life! Champagne isn’t meant to be drank alone!” 

“I don’t think it’s the saddest thing in the world!” Peter protested. “Lots of people drink alone!” 

Harry was recovered from his earlier embarrassment and winked as he cut in, “Besides, I think it’s probably for the best Peter drink it by himself. I think we all remember what happened last time Pete got champagne drunk in public.”  

“Can confirm.” Johnny held up his phone and waggled his brows. “In fact, I still have the pictures! Shall we take a stroll down memory lane?” 

“That’s enough from all of you.” Peter said loudly and the group of friends dissolved into laughter. “Honestly though, Gwen. Did you set out to find me the cheesiest historical romance ever, or was it just a happy accident?” 

“I don’t want to say I went searching specifically for it.” Gwen’s glee over Peter’s embarrassment was almost comical. “But I did check six stores and ask people’s opinion about the purchase.” 

“Kill me.” Peter groaned. “Gwen--” 

“Holy crap!” Johnny snatched the book and ogled the cover, eyes overly wide. “Look at the tiddies on that guy! Are we sure he’s not the Omega?” 

“Not all Omegas have breasts, moron.” Harry took the book next, furrowing his brow at the scantily clad Omega clutched in a brutish Alpha’s arms. “Besides, that’s an old school Alpha right there, look at those fangs. No one has fangs anymore, they started yanking those on Alphas in the seventies. Gwen how old is this book?” 

“Apparently older than the seventies.” Gwen ran her tongue over her decidedly fangless teeth. “It’s nice they don’t just rip our fangs out anymore huh? A few hours at the cosmetic dentist and all us Alphas are perfectly socially acceptable.” 

Both Johnny and Harry grunted in agreement, and Gwen turned back to Peter. “Anyway sweetheart, I thought you’d like the book mostly for the vintage feel. It will fit right in with all of Uncle Ben’s records and Auntie May’s cross stitched pillows you keep around.” 

“I do like old fashioned things--” Peter began, but he was interrupted by MJ, who flipped a few pages of the novel and shouted, “WOW! Pete the sex in this is amazing!” 

The three Alphas at the table immediately began clamoring for the book and Peter could have just died when Harry read a line out loud about the Omega being taken roughly against the door and Johnny moaned through a description of the Alpha’s turgid--

“Alrighty then.” Peter snatched the novel and shoved it in his bag , blushing hard enough that the scent of embarrassment filtered out even through his suppressants, effectively shutting up the Alphas and making MJ automatically purr at him. “Please don’t read my smutty things out loud, and definitely don’t shout lines at the top of your lungs, mkay? Thanks.”  

“Aw Pete, we’re just teasing.” Johnny drummed his fingers on the table, clicking his tongue soothingly until Peter’s scent mellowed again. “Sorry about that.”

“We didn’t mean anything by it, Pete. But come on, be honest.” Harry waved down the waitress and motioned for another round of drinks. “An Omega like you doesn’t really want an Alpha like that, right?” 

“What do you mean an Omega like me?” Peter sipped at his wine and scowled at his friends. “What does that mean?” 

“You refused to kiss me until I had my fangs filed down.” Gwen pointed out. “And we were thirteen. They were barely fangs, Pete!” 

“You wear suppressants even on dates.” Johnny said next and Harry added, “You only call one of us for your heat at the very last minute when you can’t handle it anymore, then kick us out right after getting knotted.” 

“I called you Omega last week and you about bit my head off.” Gwen stated. “One time when we snuggled, you purred real sweet so I growled and called you pretty, and you kicked me off the couch.” 

“Okay okay okay!” Peter held up his hands in surrender. “Alright fine. Yes, Gwen I’m very happy that Alpha’s don't have fangs anymore because honestly, yikes. And seriously how is the growling thing hot? Growling is practically a threat!. I wear suppressants on dates so the Alpha has to pay attention to me and not my scent, but lots of Omegas do that, it’s not just me. You Alphas wear scent blockers too, how is that any different?” 

“And kicking you out after I get knotted? I mean--” Peter didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed. “What else do I need an Alpha for? What’s the point of you guys sticking around? I don’t want stinky Alpha cuddles after my heat, I want a shower and a pound of pasta.” 

Predictably, the three Alphas erupted into arguments about how post heat cuddles were necessary and that their knot wasn’t the only thing they were good for, and amid the commotion Mary Jane leaned over and whispered, “Okay, but you don’t really hate Alpha scent and growls, do you?” 

“It’s not my favorite.” Peter whispered back. “What’s sexy about an Alpha getting possessive and growling? They’re like a dog acting greedy with a bone, except instead of a bone they have knots!” 

“Oh my god.” Mary Jane muffled a giggle. “You’re absolutely right about that, but I stll think it could be romantic! An Alpha being driven so wild by my scent they are reduced to growls? Imagine having your true mate, your soul mate absolutely speechless, reduced to nothing but their basest instincts when they see you. Or wow, to actually be scent bonded? For an Alpha to know you are meant to be theirs just because of your scent?”

“And fangs?” She lowered her voice some more. “I know Alphas don’t have fangs anymore, but come on, Tiger. You’d totally melt if an Alpha pushed you against a door and ran their teeth over your neck. Imagine it with sharp and dangerous fangs. Just think about it.”

“I think you’re just a horny Omega who needs a good knotting.” Peter decided and MJ squealed at him. 

“I’m being serious! You don’t think it’s romantic? Not at all?!” 

“I think that our grandparents literally had to march on Washington to give Omegas the right to vote.” Peter said flatly. “Your parents campaigned to have their Omega-Omega bond seen as legal just so they could adopt you. It took years and years of serious legislation before Omegas had access to reliable birth control and suppressants so we could lead lives outside the house and it was May’s generation that demanded Alphas use scent blockers so the rest of us aren’t subjected to their aggression and hormones.” 

“Well sure but--” 

“Remember forced marriages because Alphas would scent match and imprint, and the Omegas had to mate so the Alpha wouldn’t snap feral and hurt someone?” Peter pressed. “Omegas and even Betas in the hospital for emergency or plastic surgery because an Alpha raged out and tore them up with their fangs? You’d rather have this sort of dynamic--” Peter pointed to the book, to the fangs and the Omega’s clear submission in contrast to the Alpha’s nearly animalistic dominance. “Then what we have now?” 

“Well it doesn't have to be all or nothing.” MJ groused. “Just because I like Alphas getting growly and maybe fantasize about getting stuck with some fangs doesn’t mean I want some Alpha to scent bond me and then force me to mate. Sheesh Pete, lighten up a little.” 

“History has proved, it’s pretty much all or nothing.” The Omega lifted on shoulder in a half hearted shrug. “It’s either fangs and no chemical regulators and a society where we Omegas are literally at the mercy of an Alpha’s hormones, or a world where everyone takes their medicine, Alphas get rid of the weapons in their mouths and Omegas can lead normal lives.”

“Pete.” Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “You talk like you have no use for Alphas at all. Look me in the eye and tell me you’ve never once read one of these stupid romance novel and wanted a mate of your own. Social things and work and all that aside, you really don’t want a mate? You’re twenty four and never even had a serious relationship. Don’t you wonder what you’re missing?

Something awful flitted through Peter’s dark eyes then, painful and vulnerable enough to make Mary Jane catch her breath in surprise. “Oh honey, are you okay?”

She reached for him, but Peter leaned away and schooled his features, managing a nearly bland, “I dunno, MJ. I think I prefer this life. Mates and scent matches are about as necessary as fairy tales, you know? I’m not missing out on anything.” 

“Pete--” Mary Jane whispered, but just then the Alphas decided to stop arguing and rejoin the conversation and Johnny stuck his nose in to ask, “What’s this about mates? Pete, are you finally thinking about settling down?” 

“Nope.” Peter slashed his hand through the air and shook his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. I was telling MJ that mates and scent matches are unnecessary, but what is entirely necessary is my next project, so I need to get home and get started. Mr. Stark didn’t give me all this money so I could blow it drinking with my friends.” 

“What’s your next project, Pete?” Harry reached for the bill before the Omega could, and passed his card off to the waitress. “I thought the Hammer Tech story was your entire workload.” 

“I’ve been working on a side project for a while now.” Peter blew the Alpha a kiss as a thank you for buying his drinks. “I was going to do one of those genealogy charts as a present for May and was tracking our family through secondary biologies, but then I came across an article that said almost all male Omegas have a mutant in their family tree. So I started researching mutants and it sort of spiraled from there into a --”

{{AUTHORS NOTE: This fic will include themes of racism towards mutants and will reference things such as WW2 concentration camps and past treatment of different religious/ethnic/indigenous groups at the hands of the government. It is talked about in a “It was terrible what they did back then” sort of way, and as the fic continues, I will try and TW anything notable with in the chapters so you can avoid/skip as needed}}

Peter stopped when Johnny and Harry shared very uncomfortable looks, and Gwen’s eyes widened in alarm. “...what?” 

“Pete.” Gwen cleared her throat, visibly thinking through her words before speaking. “Uh… the mutant thing isn’t really… I mean, people don’t talk about that, you know? No one talks about it. Maybe steer away from that when you do you family tree.”

“What?” 

“There used to be a lot of hostility towards mutants.” Johnny said slowly. “And even though they aren’t around anymore, people still get up in arms about it. Hundreds of people died in the mutant uprisings through the last century. My grandpa died in one of those riots, Pete.”

“I know he did, Johnny.” Peter tilted his head and trilled comfortingly at the Alpha. “And I’ve come across some pretty horrifying accounts of what happened on both sides of those fights. I’ve read about mutants in the camps during World War II, I’ve read about different battles across the country, the riots in the seventies-- I’ve read it all.” 

“Well, a lot of people think the mutant population is better off gone.” Harry spoke up then. “And no one wants to talk about it. It’s one thing to take on big companies who are ruining the earth, but the mutant control they enacted in the forties and fifties… there’s still people around that would take serious offense to you digging around in that. It’s better off left alone.” 

“I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes.” Peter waved off their concerns. “I’m trying to uncover anything, I’m looking for some answers about my own family tree and that’s it. Male Omegas being the last of what we could consider mutants is pretty interesting, but I’m not looking for anything inflammatory, just my own history. I’ll be fine.”  

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” MJ worried at her bottom lip. “I know what it means to look for who you are, Pete. Being adopted means I don’t know anything about my family and I understand wanting to look, but a connection to mutants…that’s not great, Tiger. You don’t want that, or at least you don’t want to make a big deal about it.” 

“I’ll be fine.” Peter repeated, slinging his bag over his shoulder and blowing kisses to his friends. “Thank you for the drinks and the little party, Gwen, thank you for your present. I’ll talk to you guys in the morning?” 

There was no reason to worry his friends with more details about this particular project. They didn’t need to know Peter’s research had skewed far past ‘ancestry’ and deep into concerning accounts of brutality and forced assimilation. They’d hate if they knew Peter had found scattered stories about experimentation and what scientists had done in a horrifying attempt to advance science, about schools that were more like prisons and prisons that were more like concentration camps right here in their own country. 

Peter had found hints of a settlement near the Canadian border thought to be a mutant village that had rallied and revolted, attacking a military installation, and killing every soldier, every woman and child. But worse were the hints Peter found about the same settlement, hints that said it had been less of a revolt and more of a massacre, less of an uprising and more of a slaughter, that the women and children had been taken from the village and held captive and the attack was an attempt at a rescue. 

It was horrifying, stomach turning, the sort of thing Peter couldn’t just leave alone--

--and then among the scraps and barely there information about the village had been a picture of a man who looked so much like him it was almost terrifying, and Peter’s growing interest in the project had taken an abrupt turn towards obsessive. 

There were blood stained secrets in the wilds near the border, secrets that involved someone related to Peter, and he fully intended to find out every single one. 

******************

“Journal, check. Extra battery for my camera, check. Couple of changes of clothes, check. Hotel itinerary, check.” Peter muttered to himself as he packed a backpack. “Ibuprofen, check. Phone charger, check. Digital recorder, check. Gwen’s terrible romance novel in case I get bored, check. Toiletries, check--” 

His doorbell rang and interrupted his packing, and the Omega wrinkled his nose in annoyance. He’d told the Alphas he was busy, Aunt May never came around without calling first, it had better not be the maintenance guy finally showing up to fix the leaky faucet at eight at night. “Hold on a minute!” Peter finally called when the bell dinged again. “Give me just a second to get-- Oh. Mary Jane.” 

Peter checked down the hall to see if anyone else had come along with the redhead. “Hey. What are you doing here?” 

“I would have called, but my phone is dead. Can I use your charger?” MJ pushed right past Peter and into the apartment, holding up a bag of Peter’s favorite take out as she went. “I kept thinking about you drinking that champagne alone and that drove me crazy so I stopped and got food and came to share the bubbly.” 

“You’re very sweet.” Peter stepped close to the other Omega and brushed his nose across her cheek, smiling when she trilled softly and returned the gesture. “I’m not doing much, so dinner and champagne sounds great. Thank you.” 

“Are you already working on your new project?” MJ’s coat landed over a chair as she went right for the champagne. “Or have you started that book Gwen got you? I swear Pete, would it kill you to do some relaxing outside your apartment? All you ever do is work and--” 

The pretty redhead paused when she caught sight of the half packed backpack, her gaze sharpening in curiosity. “--Pete? Where are you going? You didn’t say anything about leaving when he had lunch today.” 

“Yeah.” Peter scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah, um about that. I’m heading for upstate tomorrow, gonna do a little hiking and poke around up by one of the lakes. Some rest and relaxation, you know? I won’t be gone more than a few days.” 

“Uh-huh.” Mary Jane narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Well I mean--” Peter tried for casual, trying to make his friend laugh and hopefully distract her. “Remember the last time one of us tried to leave town for a mini vacation?” 

“Mm-hmm, Gwen was going to road trip to visit her Nana and we all ended up crammed in her Subaru and driving to Disney World.” Mary Jane picked up the legal pad full of Peter’s notes and read through the first few lines. “I vividly remember having to sit on Johnny’s lap the entire time-- Pete, this is all notes about mutants. Why do you have all these, you said it wasn’t that big of a project, just an ancestry thing.”

Damn it. “Yep.” Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “That's-- that’s what I said.” 

“Then what is all this?” Mary Jane flipped through a few more pages. “Newspaper clippings and quotes and what’s this, a piece from an old book? What happened to researching your family tree?” 

“I... was.” Peter hedged, taking the legal pad from her hands. “I was researching. But then it turned into something else.” 

“Something else what.” MJ prompted. “Why are you so interested in mutants all the sudden? Where’s the mystery in it, Pete? They used to exist and now they don’t, and every book you pick up is going to tell you the same thing--mutants disappeared in the seventies and no one knows what happened.”

“Someone has to know what happened, MJ.” 

“Well.” The Omega huffed. “Sure someone has to know, but this is like chasing aliens. Everyone has accepted that mutants don’t exist anymore, and the people who haven’t accepted it get treated like they’re crazy until they get overly nosy and irritating and get visits from men in black suits. Is that what you want? To have everyone think you’re nuts?”

“Doesn’t the visit from men in black suits prove there’s something they’re trying trying to hide?” Peter pointed out with a small smile. “And yeah, I read all the books MJ. I tracked down newspaper articles, I’ve done my research on the claims the tabloids print about super powered humans and dangerous mutants. I know it’s crazy and I know--” he blew out a deep breath. “-- I know working on this could cost me every bit of credibility my last article gave me. I know that.”

“Then why are you risking it?” Mary Jane gestured to his bag, to the stack of information. “Don’t you remember Doctor Connors from a few years ago? He got hooked on research about mutants and genetic experimentation and ended up in a padded cell, screaming about turning into a lizard and regrowing limbs. All his research has been trashed, the books he’s written discredited, and everyone thinks his mental state was so compromised that his previous findings can’t be trusted. That could happen to you, Pete.” 

“It know it could, but I have to find out anyway.” Peter shrugged helplessly and Mary Jane threw her hands up in frustration. “I gotta find answers about this. If there’s a mutant in my family tree somewhere, I have to know who they are.” 

“This is about what happened at lunch.” MJ suddenly realized. “When we were talking about you missing out on something because you don’t have any interest in relationships. You got this real awful expression on your face. What's wrong, and what does it have to do with mutants?”

Peter looked at his friend for a long long moment, and then finally asked, “Do you know what it’s like to wake up every morning and grieve for something you don’t know you’re missing? It’s something essential from your core, from your very center of being, and you can’t even breathe for lack of it, but you don’t know what it is.”

Mary Jane only blinked at him, and Peter sighed, dropping onto the couch and putting his face in his hands. “I feel like that every day, MJ. It started after I lost my parents and it got worse when I had to move schools and a worse again when I moved out of May and Ben’s to get my own place. I have a great life, you know? I have great friends and a wonderful career-- I mean hell, I won an award today. Because of my work, those slums will be bulldozed and Hammer Tech has to pay to build quality housing for their workers. I did that, and I’m very proud of it.” 

Peter tapped at his chest. “But I’m still empty. Hollow. Something is missing from me and lately it’s been getting worse. I’m hardly sleeping, I can’t concentrate, I’ve lost like fifteen pounds cos I can’t make myself eat. I think I’m depressed but why would I be depressed?” and then with a self deprecating laugh. “I’d say I’m in love and needing my Alpha, but I’ve never been in love in my life.” 

“Oh, Tiger.” MJ clicked her tongue sympathetically and joined Peter on the couch, budging close and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m so sorry.” 

“This is why I became a reporter.” Peter suddenly sounded tired, exhausted really, more weary than Mary Jane had ever heard. “I’m looking for something in my life and being a reporter means I get to go places and meet people and research and maybe one day I’ll figure out what’s gonna fill this void inside me. I love you so much, MJ, but it’s not friendship I need. And before you say anything about me needing a bond, I am telling you--” 

Peter actually shuddered as he said the words. “I am telling you, the thought of mating with any of our Alphas makes me want to run away. Gwen is perfect and Harry is gorgeous and Johnny is hilarious, they are all amazing Alphas, amazing people and would be amazing mates, but I can’t be with them. They aren’t enough, they’re almost...they’re almost boring. I’m bored with them.” 

“You’re bored.” Mary Jane echoed, clearly not understanding but trying her best to be supportive. “What does that mean?” 

“You know why I read those terrible romance novels?” Peter offered her a wobbly smile. “Because those characters are completely fulfilled by whatever they find, whether it’s a life they didn’t know they wanted or a romance with someone unexpected or an adventure they didn’t think they were ready for. They are content and I don’t think I’ve ever been content. It’s like there’s a piece of me out there that I can’t get a hold of and until I find it, I can’t rest. I can’t rest, MJ. I’m just running in place, breaking my own heart over something I don’t understand.”

“And you think the thing you’re missing has something to do with this settlement up North?” She clarified. “Why do you think that?” 

Peter chewed at the inside of his cheek for a few seconds, then reached into his pack for a folded photograph and passed it over. “Because of this.” 

The other Omega studied the grainy picture for a minute before her mouth fell open in an ‘o’. “Pete, when is this photo from? This guy could almost be you, is this your great grandfather?” 

“I don’t know.” Peter admitted. “I’ve traced my family history back as far as I can trying to find him but there’s a point about a hundred and fifty years ago where the family split and the tree gets real messy in some spots and very blank in others. But when I was looking into the Haven settlement by the border, I found this picture in the very bottom of an old box of newspaper clippings and--”

“-- you think whoever this person is, he’s in your family tree somewhere.” Mary Jane guessed. “And if he was in the village upstate, then he was most likely a mutant and that’s why you’re chasing this story so hard.” 

“It’s a part of my past.” Peter ran careful fingers over the time yellowed photograph. “And maybe understanding more about the time period and more about who this person is could help me understand myself.” 

He placed the picture back and shook his head ruefully. “I know I sound crazy. And I’m definitely grasping at straws. This is probably nothing more than a coincidence but it also could be really important and as crazy as it sounds?” Peter waited for Mary Jane to meet his eyes. “MJ, this is as close to feeling whole as I’ve ever been. The search for answers is keeping me up at night but it feels good, it feels like I’m finally on the right path. I don’t even have words for how relieved I am every time I find something else. It’s just-- it’s just--” 

“Sometimes when our souls are involved, it’s more than words can say.” Mary Jane offered simply. “That’s what Ma says when she talks about how she and Pop fell in love. It was their souls recognizing each other, and there isn’t any words for how incredible it is. If this project is pulling at your soul, then no wonder you can’t let it go.” 

“Yeah.” Peter managed a smile. “It’s my soul. My soul is relieved every time I get a little bit closer to figuring this out, so I can’t stop looking. I won’t.” 

“And I don’t think you should.” Mary Jane handed Peter a few more notes from the table. “If this is what you’re called to do, then do it. I’ll support you, Tiger.” 

“I love you.” Peter breathed out shakily and leaned into his friend’s arms. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I know this was supposed to be food and champagne and then I got all intense and--” 

“Stop.” MJ hushed him, petting through Peter’s thick hair and purring softly until he went limp against her. “The food and champagne will keep. Let’s just hold each other for a while.” 

Despite Peter’s insistence that life was better with suppressants and blockers, that Omegas were better off not having their hormones and scents control their emotions, there was something to be said for the way two Omegas could connect and bond and soothe each other. 

Mary Jane always scented like sweet peaches and spicy ginger and Peter tucked his nose into the crook of her neck and breathed in deep as the Omega’s scent flooded rich with comfort and affection and MJ only trilled in approval when Peter stretched out on the couch and brought her down onto his chest so their suppressant muted scents could mingle for a while, calming them both. 

“You won’t do anything reckless up at the camp site, will you?” Mary Jane asked sometime later and Peter shifted beneath her until he could tangle his fingers in her long hair, tugging at the strands idly. “Pete? Promise me you won’t do anything crazy.” 

“I won’t do anything crazy.” Peter promised.

“Take some bear spray.” 

“MJ, I’m not taking--” 

“Take some bear spray, Pete.” 

“Fine.” Peter kissed the top of her head. “I’ll take some bear spray.” 

“Thank you.” 

Only after Mary Jane had closed her eyes and snuggled close again did Peter glance over at his phone when it lit up for the third time in just a few minutes. 

He had joined a chat group and message board several weeks ago, one dedicated to asking questions about mutants and Peter had asked a lot of questions. He had an entire list of things he had to know, and he sat up for hours every night reading answers and threads and following links and taking notes. 

And then finally, sort of suddenly really, someone named Nathan Summers had contacted Peter privately, promising answers to some of the harder questions. 

Peter had told him about the village up North and Nathan had known immediately what he was talking about. Nathan had suggested they meet up and walk the site together, Peter had only hesitated for a second before agreeing. 

He had to know. 

Peter’s phone lit up with another message from Nathan right then, probably double checking what time they were going to meet at the hotel tomorrow, and Peter swallowed back a flash of trepidation as he reached with one hand to type a message back. 

This was probably a terrible idea, but he wasn’t going to turn back now. 

He had to know. 

**************

**************

It took nearly five and a half hours to make it to the hotel Peter had booked, and he only stopped long enough to check in and drop off his computer before getting back in the car and continuing North. 

The supposed camp site was two hours off the highway, down a dirt road and nearly running into Lake Haven in some areas, skirting the edge of the mountain very closely at others. Peter craned his neck to take in as much as he could see without driving off the increasingly sketchy road, looking for signs or landmarks or anything that resembled the less than rudimentary maps he’d found. 

Winter warped the landscape here every single year, avalanches wiping away trees and displacing huge pieces of mountain, the rains flooding in the spring and summer washing away roads and swelling rivers until they jumped their banks and created new pathways. A dam built twenty-something years ago had created a lake where there hadn’t been one before and dried out a previously hidden valley and Peter knew he could be on a wild goose chase. The odds of finding anything resembling ruin or evidence of a village were slim anyway, but after a hundred and fifty years everything he was looking for could be hidden under water or swept under a mudslide or a rockslide or shit, New York even had tornadoes, it could have been a tornado--

“Oh thank God.” Peter breathed a sigh of relief when he finally made it around a final corner and into what was left of the parking lot of an old campground. The State had tried to make this area close to the border more accessible to the public, but no one came this far North without wanting to see Ontario or continuing West to the falls or just skipping the border to get into Canada, so the dozen or so installed campgrounds had fallen to ruin. 

Thankfully this one still had a mostly paved parking lot and what looked like permanent outhouses, and since Peter knew no one would randomly stumble onto his car here, he felt perfectly safe leaving it locked as he hefted his backpack and took off hiking into the woods. 

He was supposed to meet Nathan tonight at the hotel, so Peter had most of the afternoon to explore around the river and into the forest. The village was rumoured to be on the other side of the lake and he certainly wouldn’t make it that far today, but he could at least find a way through the forest so tomorrow hiking with Nathan would be easier.

“Tell me your secrets.” Peter murmured as he reached to touch a nearly faded plaque marking the site as one of historical significance. “I want to know everything.” 

Curiosity and the cat, right?

Peter lost himself for hours wandering around the massive trees, ducking under low hanging branches and climbing up and over boulders, stopping to take pictures as he went.

It seemed impossible that anyone could have survived here without machinery to clear a path, without lights to chase the shadows from the looming forest. How did they get water? How did they get supplies? Had the mutants considered themselves American and went to the Fort for supplies or did they cross the border and head further North? Was it a terrible life, a difficult life like the stories of settlers out West? Did they even speak English or was there a mutant language that had ceased to exist like so many other indigenous dialects?

Peter had so many questions, hundreds and hundreds of questions and he wanted to know everything and yet he found himself slowing, lingering, just looking as the urgency of it all faded away into awe and appreciation for the land around him.

It was beautiful up here, wild and open and Peter stopped just to tip his head back and breathe. He’d never noticed how polluted the city was until right now, hadn’t realized how loud traffic could be until he couldn’t hear anything but the birds and the hum of insects and the wind swooping through the trees. The sunlight filtered through branches in patches, lighting some areas golden and covering others in shade and if Peter tilted his head and listened, if he breathed deep and stretched his senses he could almost feel the lake close by. 

It was beautiful and peaceful and Peter thought maybe a bit of his soul settled as he leaned back against the sun warmed surface of a big rock and closed his eyes. 

Why did this feel so good?

Peter wished he’d thought to bring a tent just so he wouldn’t have to leave, but this time of year night came quickly, bringing the cold right along with it and with the sun already dipping in the sky, Peter had no choice but to leave the unexpected sanctuary of the woods and head towards his car. The road had been barely passable in the daylight and he couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be in the dark, and Nathan would be waiting at the hotel restaurant here in a few hours, so he really had to go.

Still, it almost hurt to leave and Peter touched the plaque again as he passed, lingering over the letters for a long moment and--

“You’re Parker?” a sudden voice from the gathering shadows, low, gravelly and frightening. “Peter, right? I didn’t expect you to be an Omega.” 

“Holy shit--” Peter whirled around, clutching at the can of bear spray MJ had demanded he bring along. “Who’s there? Who are you?” 

And then almost as an afterthought, “How do you know I’m an Omega? I’m wearing scent blockers and it’s half dark outside.” 

“I can smell it on you.” A shadow darker than the others separated and Peter caught a flash of Alpha red eyes from beneath a hood. “Those scent blockers you use only work on tamer Alphas. One like me can sniff out your biology without even trying.” 

“Ooookay. Well fair’s fair with that so if you don’t mind--” Peter swallowed a little and leaned in towards the stranger, flaring his nostrils and trying to gather as much of the Alpha’s scent as he could. 

But the Alpha reeked of blood and burning, of metallic and copper and smoke and when Peter sucked in a sharp breath ready to scream, the Alpha interrupted, “It’s not blood, Parker. It’s metal. Just metal and smoke is what you’re scenting. Don’t panic.” 

“You’re-- you’re Nathan Summers?” Peter bit at his lip and shifted nervously on his feet, hoping his suppressants were still working enough to choke the fear drenching his scent. Fuck this had been a bad idea. “You said we would meet at the hotel, what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“That doesn't matter.” A flare of a match and the end of a cigar lit cherry red between them. “And the name’s Cable. Haven’t been Nathan Summers in a long while now.” 

“It absolutely matters how you found me.” The Omega tried for a bravery he didn’t feel. “And alright Cable, you said you had some solid information for me, so I want it. It’s getting cold and dark and you’re wasting my time. What do you know?” 

“Mouthy little shit.” Cable might have chuckled, but it came out almost a growl. “Omegas always have too much attitude. I know you’re scared, I can smell it on you. You’re still gonna try and be a smart ass?” 

“Well I--” 

“You’re gonna stop looking into the meta humans.” Cable interrupted. “Your little project doesn’t exist anymore, alright? I had to get you face to face to make sure you weren’t a real threat, and now I’m telling you to stop looking into the meta humans.” 

“Meta--” Peter cleared his throat, his damned curiosity and the ache in his heart telling him to keep asking. “Meta humans. Is that what you called the mutants? Why meta? Are you saying the mutants have super powers? Or powers in general? I’ve only heard about physical mutations and there are a few recorded cases of feats of strength but--” 

“You’re not listening, kid.” Cable took a deep drag on the cigar and blew the smoke out over Peter’s head. “Stop asking questions, stop posting online, stop your research. Nothing involving meta humans ends well and you do not want the type of trouble this will bring. Back off, little Omega. Run along home.” 

“Go back to the meta human thing.” Peter ignored the flare of annoyance over being called little Omega and squinted in the dark when he caught a glimpse of something gleaming along Cable’s shoulder. “Just tell me yes or no. Powers? What about the settlement here, was it actually an uprising that brought the Army after them? It had to be an uprising if you’re talking about people with super powers, can you tell me if--?” 

“You’re trying my patience.” Cable grunted and turned further from Peter’s view. “This is your last warning kid. Stop digging around or I can’t be responsible for what comes knocking on your door. We’ve stayed hidden a long time just trying to live our lives, I’m not going to let some nosy Omega screw it up.” 

“No no wait!” There were a hundred things Peter should have done right then-- and all of them involved running away-- but instead Peter lunged forward and grabbed onto Cable’s left arm as the man started to walk away “Tell me! Tell me what’s going on! I’m tired of never getting a straight answer with these things and I have to know, you don’t understand I have to know--”

Peter had only a split second to realize he wasn’t feeling flesh but machinery under his fingers, and then a split second more to register an ear splitting noise like grinding gears before Cable flung him into the trees. 

Peter screamed as he went flying through the air, nearly bit his tongue in half when he smacked into a tree trunk, and lay there crumpled and stunned for a full minute. 

Machinery, the scent of blood, the weird clicking, the way Cable called them meta humans and not mutants and talked about-- 

“--We’ve lived a long time just trying to live our lives.” 

Our lives. 

Cable was a mutant and he’d just thrown Peter twenty feet without even trying. 

Oh my god, I could die tonight. 

“I didn’t mean to do that.” Cable was suddenly in front of Peter, over Peter, crouching down and reaching to check that the Omega hadn’t broken anything in the fall. “I know you’re just a kid and don’t mean to cause trouble but--” 

He stopped talking when panic turned the air bitter, and the Alpha covered his mouth when he gagged at the stench. “Parker, what--” 

“Your arm.” Peter’s eyes were very wide, his face very pale in the dimming light and Cable muffled a curse when he realized his hood and cloak had fallen away. “What the hell happened to your arm?” 

“It’s a long story.” Cable rotated the mechanism, grimacing over the grind of gears and the tug and pull of metal along his shoulder, up his neck and into his skull. “And one you don’t want to know. You think the rest of the world wants to hear about this? You think people want to know I'm walking around in the shadows?” 

“I--I--I--” Peter’s eyes darted from the mutant’s face to the metal at his arm, up to the eerie glow of one robotic eye and the flashing red of Alpha in the other. “How-- oh my god--” 

“I don’t even want to be like this.” Cable said then and he sounded bone weary, patting at a disc shaped object on the strap around his chest. “Kid, no one wants this. Whatever you are looking for up here? Let it go. Just-- Just let it go.” 

“I can’t.” Peter whispered and the Alpha’s expression flickered in what looked like resignation and maybe even understanding. “I gotta know and you-- you gotta help me.” 

“I’m not going to help you.” 

“But you have to!” Peter’s eyes dropped to watch when Cable touched that same disc again. “Why else would you come all the way up here?” 

“I came up here to warn you-- HEY!” Cable shouted in alarm when the Omega darted forward and snatched the disc away, kicking Cable right in the face before taking off running into the woods. “Goddammit Parker! Get back here right now! You don’t know what that thing is!” 

“Then tell me!” Peter cried as he fled. “Is this a mutant thing? Or a meta human thing? What is it? I want answers!” 

“Stop with the endless questions and just give me the damn device!” Cable muttered a curse when the Omega only picked up speed, swerving towards the parking lot. “No! No you fool! Give that back right now, you have no idea what you’re messing with!” 

Peter was gone though, sprinting through the trees towards the lights of the campground, the device clutched tight in his hand. He was almost to his car, almost to safety, almost there almost there almost there--

--It was like hitting a brick wall, and Peter screamed as he jolted to a stop, his entire body forced to stillness abruptly enough to make his head hurt and his fists clench, pain washing through his core. 

“What?” Peter tried to make his feet move, tried to make his hands move, tried to do anything but he was utterly trapped and as Cable marched up to him with one hand held out and a furious red glint in his one human eye, Peter knew it was the mutant Alpha’s doing. “Wh-what is this? How are you doing this?” 

“There are a thousand things in this world you cannot begin to understand.” Cable said shortly. “And believe it or not, I’m not even close to the worst of them. Hand me that device slowly and I’ll let you go. Slow and easy, kid. No one needs to get hurt, alright?” 

“No one needs to get hurt?” Peter repeated, the words coming thick through honey, his tongue not quite working right. “You’re chasing me through the woods and threatening me and I’m supposed to think you’re not going to hurt me?” 

“You’re messing with things you will never understand, and I’m not going to let you ruin lives because you can’t stop asking questions.” Cable held out his free hand and snapped his fingers. “My patience is gone, so here it is. We’ve got two options-- I keep you suspended so you can’t run and you hand me that thing willingly, or I rip you in half to get to it. What’s it going to be?” 

Peter didn’t answer though, and after a moment Cable snapped his fingers again. “What’s it going to be?” 

“...is this supposed to be ticking?” Peter asked very very quietly, holding up the disc as it began to glow. “Because-- because it started ticking a few seconds ago. What’s happening?” 

“Oh god dammit--” Cable dropped the hold on Peter and lunged for the Omega, lunged for his device but a second before his fingers made contact, the ticking stopped. 

“No no no no---!” 

A flash of bright light, the acrid scent of smoke and when Cable stumbled to a stop, both the Omega and the device were gone. 

Gone. 

“Oh no.” The mutant dragged both his hands through his silvering hair and groaned. “What have I done?” 

*****************

*****************

1872

The early morning frost crunched beneath Wade’s feet as he stalked through the woods, heavy boots breaking branches and kicking stones out of the way, three or four rabbits hanging limp over his broad shoulders, a rifle held securely in hand. 

This time of year the bears tended to be fat and lazy so the Alpha wasn’t too concerned about disturbing one of them, but he’d seen mountain lion tracks outside his cabin the other morning and again last night, and the big cats were a different sort of danger altogether. Wade kept his eyes sharp as he scanned the trees and bushes along his path for anything feline, kept his nose to the air so he’d catch anything dead that would attract the predators, and kept his rifle ready just in case.

Sometimes fangs and brute strength just weren’t enough to keep a man alive in this wilderness. 

Wait. The Alpha stopped in his tracks when the air tinged with a scent that didn’t belong-- smoky and burnt and brimming with panic, but beneath all that was the thready scent of Omega and that-- well that wasn’t right at all.

What the hell was an Omega doing all the way out here?

“Oh shit.” Wade dropped his gear abruptly when he saw a form at the base of a tree, an Omega laying limp in the frost like he’d been dropped from the sky and left for dead. “Shit shit shit, how did you get here?” 

Wade ran careful hands up the Omega’s legs to feel for broken bones, pressed gingerly to check for busted ribs, glanced at and then away from the unmarked bonding spot and reached for the Omega’s chin to tip his head back and -- 

“Oh.”  The Alpha gulped when he got a clear look at the Omega’s features, thick hair and freckle dusted skin and gorgeous lips, dark eyes fluttering open in confusion and fear and Wade automatically rumbled something soft at the Omega, murmuring “Hey, shhh. It’s okay. I dunno what you’re doing here, but I got you, okay? I’ve got you. Let’s get you off the ground, come here.” 

The pretty thing didn’t weigh enough to matter and Wade lifted the Omega without any effort at all, but when the Alpha got a nose full of heady lavender and sweet honeysuckle scent, his knees buckled and nearly sent them both pitching back to the forest floor. 

“Oh.” Wade wheezed, hazel eyes snapping red and a growl working in his throat as the Omega scent filled his senses and left him reeling, stumbling. “Oh fuck--” 

“Mmmm.” The Omega was barely conscious but he still turned and tucked his nose tighter to Wade’s chest. “...smell...good…” 

“Damn it.” Wade automatically held the Omega tighter, helpless against his biology’s sudden call of protect, and more worrisome, the soul echoing claim of  mine. “Where did you come from Omega?” 

There was no answer, the Omega slipping unconscious again and the Alpha swallowed hard, barely able to form the words to ask. “And how long will it be before Cable comes back for you?” 

*****************

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[asharinhun]

Old friends

Samantha let out a content sigh after emptying what remained in her keg with one big gulp. People could say whatever they wanted, but there was no better way to numb pain than some quality beer. Luckily for her, there were only a few patrons at The Golden Keg, meaning Sam could keep the table at the corner all for herself. One leg propped up on one of the chairs, she tried one last futile effort to wipe a few locks away, but her hair was stuck to the right side of her face. It couldn’t be helped, she was still soaking wet thanks to the downpour and the time it took her to hobble to the establishment.

“Two more rounds, please!” Sam called once the waitress was close enough to hear without shouting and winced. Biting back a curse, she looked down at the culprit, her right arm resting in a makeshift sling, the best she could do given the circumstances. “There goes my mood... but it was worth it.” The words were barely more than a whisper, meant only for herself.

***

Not even half an hour before, Samantha was cointing the gold coins in her purse one-handed, doing her best to ignore the cacophony of the spectators and investors as another bout was over in the Brawler’s Guild. It was not even midday yet, the morning hours perfect to winnow out the ‘fresh meat’, to get a better grasp which new fighters had any potential or were doomed to obscurity or laughing stock.

Sam was lucky to be here in the first place, a member took notice of her the previous night in the inn she was staying at after she broke the jaw of a fellow too free with his hands. He was so impressed that she received the invitation right after, allowing her entrance if she wished so. It was one of the easiest choices recently, she needed the money.

After the fall of Gilneas, she was just one of the refugees along with her mother, her status as a minor noble gone for good. The night elves offering shelter were nice people, but while it was enough for her mother, Sam wanted revenge. She even had the perfect means: the curse of the worgen. Combined with her prior training, she hoped the boost of her worgen form would be sufficient to join the army, facing the Forsaken would be only a matter of time after that.

Taking what coin she could bring without inconveniencing her mother, Samantha took a ship to Stormwind to submit her application at the nearest recruiter, but didn’t expect the process would take so long and she was running low. The Brawler’s Guild was the perfect opportunity for swift gains.

Sam’s opponent was a big man, but he was quick for his size as she soon found out as his plated knuckles sent her head reeling, the edge of the metal  leaving a nasty cut barely missing the corner of her right eye. The terrible start ignited her rage like adding fuel to the fire and she transformed.

The match was a close call and it left her battered, but she won. She won and raked in more coins than she could hope for. It turned out her opponent was a regular, and drawing him as an opponent was the nightmare of newcomers. hence her obviously terrible odds. After she made sure not a single piece of gold was missing, Sam sat to watch the other fighters, it took time for her non-dominant hand to turn her scarf into a sling without help, the investors were not too happy so she wisely didn’t ask any of them for aid.

Some regulars were starting to pop up as well, and that’s when she spotted him. His beard was longer, his hair a mess and he sported a scar running from just above his lips to his chin, but there was no doubt in her mind: the man stepping into the arena was none other than Gerrard Kingsley, another minor noble from Gilneas and her friend. “Bastion, huh? So he even has a nickname...” Sam muttered and -led by the sudden impulse- she bet some of her winnings on his victory. His odds were a lot better, so her gains would be less, but the Gerrard she knew would win. He didn’t disappoint her.

It was pretty much a one-sided pummeling, Gerrard didn’t even take on his worgen form no matter how his opponent taunted him. A pity. She really wanted to see how other worgen fought and maybe even learn a trick or two. Oh well, there’s always next time.

What Sam didn’t expect was when Gerrard walked past, she only received a cold glance in reply to her greeting, not even a word or a gesture. He just left, plain and simple, leaving a fuming Samantha behind.

***

“To ignore me like that, what a rude bastard! He should have returned the greeting at the very least!” Sam hissed, earning a confused look from the waitress. “Sorry, please ignore my outburst.” She apologised before adding “Men.” as if that word explained everything. Given the lady’s sympathetic smile and her nod, it did. That, or she simply took pity on Sam’s sorry state.

At least noone bothered her yet with questions she was unwilling to answer. A fresh wave of pain from her right ankle prompted the worgen to start on one of the kegs before glancing down at the offending limb. “Bahh, I knew it was a mistake to pull off the boot, no way I can put it back on. Now I’ll have to hop, damn it...” She muttered as she carefully ran the fingers of her good arm over the bare skin of her swollen foot.

She was too caught up in her plight that she took no notice of the hooded man entering the inn, until he was suddenly standing over her. “Who’re you and what do you want?” Samantha asked unkindly, still holding onto the small hope the guy would leave her alone, she was in no  state to fight.

“Hello, Samantha.” The man greeted, pulling down the hood and got rid of his wet coat. It was Gerrad.

“You! To think you had the nerve-”

“Stop making a scene Sam, and listen well.”

His eyes blazed like molten gold, but it was his tone that made her back off. There was a hardness, a ruthlessness to it that she never heard before.

“Alright, say what you want then fuck off.” Samantha was annoyed at her defeated reply, only the cursing made her feel slightly better.

“Haahh... Seriously, you’re always either serene or furious. You really need to find that balance, you know.” Gerrard sighed, the edge gone from his voice. His was like his old self she knew well. “You managed to surprise them today, but you need to seriously consider your strategy if you insist on going back.” He added, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“I won, and that’s what matters.” Samantha huffed a sulky reply. “Why did you ignore me then, since it’s obvious you recognised me.”

“Look, there is a reason I already count as a regular. I spend most of my days there and do nothing but fight. The money is decent if you win, but those are deep waters you don’t want to dive into recklessly. I did, and have to live with the consequences. What happens down there stays there, but the investors have excellent memory and connections.” The male worgen paused letting his words sink in. “You get it now, don’t you?”

Samantha exhaled slowly, massaging her temple. “Yeah... I think I do. Good thing I don’t plan of showing up too often, but needed the coin.”

“That’s for the best.” Gerrard replied and reached after his keg, nodding his thanks to the waitress. “And what are your plans?”

“I already submitted my application to the army, but it’s been over a week and still no reply, and the rent of the room isn’t cheap. You’d think they need more soldiers now than ever.”

“The idea is good, you’ll receive the necessary basic training and the pay is decent. If you also work on your control over those feral instincts and your rage, you’ll be quite effective.”

“Hah, you surprise me. Most men would try to discourage me, yet you’re giving me pointers.” Sam snorted in reply.

“I think everyone has their right to get revenge, so why would I discourage you from that? Just make sure those damn forsaken receive the pointy end of your sword, and you avoid theirs.”

Samantha couldn’t reply for several seconds. “... Is it that obvious?”

“I know that fire in your eyes. I see it everytime I look into a mirror, the flames of vengeance burn bright. I chose the path of a mercenary instead less restrictions there, but I’ll make sure those bastards whill pay.” Gerrard responded with a sad smile. “While we are at that, show me that cut. It looked like it barely missed your eye. You had me worried there.”

“I’m fine.” Sam spoke the words automatically, but knew she fooled noone if her arm and ankle were any indication. “Alright, alright...” She finally pulled her hair away from her right cheek with a wince, revealing a long, anrgy red scratch right at the corner of an impressive shiner. She could still open the eye almost halfway despite the swelling if she wanted to, but it would take too much effort and pain so she simply kept it shut. “See? Nothing I can’t handle.”

“What I see now is that we will go and get you to a healer once we’re out of drinks. It’s probably already too late for that, but a priest is still your best bet if you want to avoid scarring.”

“Who cares about a scar or two. I will have more while in the army anyway.”

“That’s true, but they might think twice about letting you join if they see you in your current state.”

“Damn it, you didn’t lose your silver tongue, Gerrard.” Sam sighed once more. “Alright, consider me convinced... though I will need your shoulder to lean on while hopping. Damn sure I won’t put any weight on that foot.”

“I can give you a piggyback ride if your arm can suffer it, or there’s always the princess-bride as a last resort.”

“Youuu...” Oh, how she wanted to wipe that satisfied smirk off his face. “I’m tempted to take my chances on my own.” Sam rolled her eye before adding “Carrying me on your back will suffice, I don’t think my dignity would survive the bridal style.”

Gerrard just chuckled and nodded. He lifted his keg and knocked it against the one in Samantha’s hand. “For our revenge on the forsaken.”

“For our revenge.” Sam toasted as well, a feral grin of satisfaction on her face.

[hecohansen31]

Hello love, I’d love to request a roommate AU with Alfred, with the promts 30, 28 and 3 and also the kissing prompt 33. Thank you soooo much!!! 💕❤️🥰

WARNINGS: Unrequited Love, Mention of The Friendzone, Ugly Taste in Men, Lightly judgy! Alfred and overbearing mom! Judith, also... cheesy...

An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

“You smell nice”.

Alfred was unable to stop himself from commenting on the distinct smell you were wearing tonight, something sweet almost like vanilla, but with a twinge of fruity which gave almost a sassy note to your body.

And he found himself immediately liking it.

Although you weren’t wearing it for him.

“Thank you, Alfie!” you immediately replied as you stopped at the mirror in the corridor, fixing the small black dress you were wearing, an utter masterpiece of fabric that had the advantage of highlighting your body perfectly.

And making Alfred have all the kind of sinful thoughts.

Which wouldn’t help his constant pining against you.

It had all started when you had presented yourself for the room he was wanted to rent in his apartment, since his brother Aethelred had moved away to live with his girlfriend.

You were a college student and, although Alfred would have preferred a male roommate, he had been just too captured by your cheery and sweet personality to deny you a chance to the room, and on the long run, he had been glad you had accepted.

Although there were moments, like these days, when he hated the thought that you saw him as only your roommate.

“… I hope Ken will too” you added, softly as you checked your perfectly red lips, a color that had ben linked to sin back when Alfred was in seminary, but now he just loved the way it’d heighten the shap of your lips, and he had hazy dreams about messing it up.

“You are going out with that idiot, again?”.

He tried to keep his nose out of your romantic life, both for his peace of mind and yours, but eventually you’d just jump in a pretty dress and elaborated make-up, and he’d know that some dick would sweep you off your feet just to leave you cold in time of need.

And Alfred would be there for you.

But you never saw him as much more than a friend.

It wasn’t your fault.

It was Alfred who had always been to shy to propose anything.

And he couldn’t blame you for not noticing him.

“He said he didn’t mean to stand me up” you mumbled softly with a voice that seemed almost childish, as you gently brushed a few hair away from your face, checking the entire ensemble “… he just forgot a very important thing!”.

“Of course” he huffed with annoyance.

If it ever came to him, he’d make you his priority.

“… oh, c’mon Alfie, don’t be so mean!” you complained loudly, turning to him “… you need to go out more!”.

“I am fine” he replied immediately, as he lightly gestured to his guitar laying in the middle of your sitting room “… I’ll just compose a few symphonies…”.

“I can’t believe you, sometimes” you commented lightly, as you turned to him with a devious smirk and his eyes finding focus on the small choker on your neck, bringing attention to it “…  maybe I can ask Ken if he has a girl to set you up with!”.

“Please don’t” because he didn’t want any girl that wasn’t you.

He had tried.

His mother had tried to get him with a nice church girl, but he’d for ever see your face over their bodies and when they talked it just scared him as a monstrous creature.

“Hey! It is a good idea” you replied softly, coming closer to him “… me and Kent and you and a nice girl!”,

And you gently pushed your hand onto his arms, in a way that made him tremble under you.

He just wanted it not to be a simple touch between friends.

He wanted to gently grab your hand and bring you closer to be able to smell properly that wonderful perfume, as he tasted the softness of your body.

“That sounds lovely” he muttered through gritted teeth “…now don’t hang in with your loser friend, you have a dinner to attend to”.

“Oh Alfie!” you hugged him tight, effectively stealing his breath away “… don’t miss me too much, and get in bed at a reasonable time, old man!”.

You, then, moved to grab your coat and your bag, eventually exiting as Alfred huffed an annoyed breath, messing up his long hair as he put them up in a lazy bun, before he got the guitar to try to soothe his heart in the most Taylor Swift way.

And he was halfway through the bridge of a new song when you came home, strangely early.

But he didn’t dare to comment anything, till you turned to him, your eyes lightly glossy and your cheeks reddened, in what would have been a portrait…

… hadn’t it meant that you had been crying.

“Hey, is ever…?” he tried to ask, but before he could, you moved closer to him and your expensive perfume mixed with cheap whiskey.

“I couldn’t…” you blurted out, blabbering over the words as you opened and closed your mouth in search of the proper word and Alfred couldn’t help but lightly cradle you closer “… I didn’t go to that date…”.

“Why didn’t you go?” asked softly Alfred, trying his best not to make you feel guilty, but it didn’t seem to work, since you raised your head from his shoulder, where it was rightfully resting to send him a daring look, the one that meant that you’d thought ‘he was smarter’ “… why have you been going out with these assholes that don’t know how to treat you?”.

He expected you to tell him to ‘fuck off’.

He had misspoken, since as ugly as your taste in man was, he didn’t have a say in it.

He wasn’t your boyfriend.

But, although you distanced yourself, you did actually reply to Alfred, with a hurt look:

“… to get over you”.

And the words didn’t register fully in Alfred’s brain till a few minutes passed…

… and your crying got worse.

“… I always had this crush on you…” your drunk mind didn’t think clearly in the slightest “… but you were too nice with me, and… and… fuck I’ll want to kick my ass tomorrow morning for telling you… I had this crush on you, but you… you never saw it”.

He couldn’t help but look at you with bewildered and open eyes as you tried to shield yourself from his beautiful light gaze.

He had been pining onto you, desperately, and you had done the same.

And he slowly couldn’t help but connect a few dots.

The way your face would brighten up as he’d accept your proposal to cuddle ‘platonically’, the light way you’d bite your lips whenever he’d appear in any way undressed or disheveled from his usual appearance…

… and finally, the way you’d grimace whenever you’d hear that Judith had tried to set him up with another daughter of her friends.

You had always liked him more than a roommate or a friend.

He had been the one put himself in the fucking friend-zone.

“… and I just thought you weren’t interested in me” a light sigh left your mouth, as you sniffled loudly and almost mechanically Alfred went in the kitchen to retrieve a tissue for you “…so I though I’d get over you, but.. everyone is not as interesting or tal… talented as you, and I…”.

You blabbered a bit more as your discourse became less and less coherent and Alfred couldn’t help but notice the way you lightly wavered on your legs.

He softly moved to support you, leading you to the bathroom, to gently collect yourself, as you stood in a painful awkward silence.

Although your drunken words were sincere, Alfred didn’t know what to do.

He had been waiting all his life for something like this to happen, but right when he got it…

… he didn’t know what to do.

And the you blurted out:

“I’ll move out on Monday” and his eyes were again watching you with surprise as his mind tried to understand what was happening “… I passed the line… I broke our boundaries, and I can’t… I can’t live here, anymore”.

“No no, (Y/N)!” he pleaded with you softly, because although he understood your point, he couldn’t let you go now that he knew.

But you didn’t.

“You’ll just find somebody who isn’t a mess” you tried to reply, as he gently brought away from your face a few strands of hair, as you both sat down onto the pavement “… and I really hope you’ll find somebody who makes your heart… makes your heart… beats… like mine, when I see you”.

You seemed out of breath as you moved to softly raise your eyes to meet his for a few minutes, before ducking down embarrassed, but he then moved to softly raise your chin lightly.

“I don’t need to look for it, when I have it right here” he replied, knowing that if he didn’t tell you now, he wouldn’t have had a chance anymore “… if I kissed you right now, what would you do?”.

You seemed taken aback and shook lightly your head, not fully understanding his words, as they resonated deaf in your mind.

And Alfred passed to the gestures, kissing you on your lips.

He did it tenderly not to scare you and in order to let you back up from it as soon as you wanted, but you just stood there, surprised, before you softly melted in the kiss, allowing it to become lightly more provocative, as you messily slipped your tongue in his mouth when he opened it, for the surprise of you answering back the kiss.

And he couldn’t help but allow you, all putty in his arms, which had come around his neck.

You were the first one to separate and for a moment Alfred was scared that you’d reject him.

It’d break his heart.

But you separated just to smile a bit clumsily and dreamily at him, before you aimed to kiss him again, missing his lips and accidentally kissing his chin, marked with the pretty red of your lipstick, as he giggled softly, gently pushing you away and helping you up.

“Let’s get you to bed�� he mumbled softly as you tried another kiss attack.

He definitely liked this side of you.

“… or we could do something more” you winked lightly, as if you hadn’t been crying a few minutes prior.

He blushed, but he was a gentleman and shook his head.

“If tomorrow morning you can remember about tonight, we can do absolutely something more…” although he kept on blushing as he said it “… but for now, just rest calmly, my love”.