#unbelievable more people don't set him on fire

[winepresswrath]

For conspiracy theory reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture I was poking through a later vampire chronicles book and Antoine needs a friend to tell him to stop doing husband work on a mistress' salary. Respect yourself, Antoine.

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's so frustrating is how often the arguments against us are actually happening to us. we said - you need to watch out, this will evolve into allowing fascism into legal statute. and we were told: you're a sensitive snowflake. you're annoying and stupid and have no concept of reality. nobody really believes that stuff.

but it's indoctrination for kids to even see queer people. it's grooming for kids to even be around queer people. it's disgusting to even put rainbows on kids clothes. it's inappropriate, shameful, still-an-argument. like any of this is new - we know already. for you, even seeing someone unashamed is the same thing as "forcing" it onto you. because god-forbid you confront any internal thought you have. because god-forbid you practice empathy. rage is better, i guess. it keeps you pretty.

this has always been the way of some people - a while ago, it would have been "sinful" for my white mom to marry my hispanic dad. once, in the year of our lord 2015, someone told me that "mutts" deserve a woodchipper. that one particular insult stayed with me - not because it was the first or last, but because there was something so unbelievably violent about it that i couldn't figure out how to hold it. the idea that someone is so assured of their bigotry and rage that they would paint this kind of a picture. even jokingly, even with the anonymity of the internet, it kind of centered things for me. a sense that, for some people, their rage burned so unimaginably large that it blocked even the basic fact of my humanity.

at one point, while i still had enough fire in me to get into long arguments, one of the bigots i was "debating" (being harassed by) said: to be honest, it's about the sex, not the love. between you, me, and the four walls of this blue hellsite, i actually didn't really care for "love is love" as the slogan of our community. it seemed so placid, so gentle, so ally-focused. where was the vitriol? where was the hours i spent agonizing over myself? where was the quiet moments of my life, filled with the sound of other people's hatred? this static that settles over everything; even for the action of holding her hand.

the world is unfair. i am an adult, and without the veneer and small-pond syndrome of my teenage years, the slogan has started sounding more desperate. the more places i went, the more people i met. love is love. love is defending him on a rooftop bar. the drink she throws at me goes down into my shoes while i stand there, wishing i had a better retort than what the fuck. love is both of us, keeping our heads down, the black SUV full of frat boys (?) pulled up next to us, howling, for five whole blocks, until we both gave up and had to stick our bare legs into the thicket by the side of the road, giving over into tick country rather than let it go on any longer. love is a lazy spring afternoon, my hand on her belly, the fan spinning overhead. did you hear the whole thing about target?

did you hear about being the target? that's a fun little parallel, isn't it. it almost feels like the game that-is-about-me is being played without-my-participation. someone wants to set fire to my life, and i have to wait for a response from a capitalist institution. i am watching a tiktok where a white woman under white lights complains about adult swimsuits, even though i think a lot of people would benefit from having swimming options that are not "instagram-inspired bikini" or "impossible to move in but otherwise pretty".

sometimes it just seems so fucking stupid. like, just to check, the rage you feel and the hatred - you could really just avoid all of that by minding your fucking business. sometimes (and this is true): it's not about you, and people don't need your permission. like, i don't understand any obsession with sports, but it seems to make other people happy. american football literally results in grievous bodily injury - and yet there are onesies for babies that say future quarterback. i personally don't love it, so i just don't buy that stuff. i walk by it, and don't let it bother me. there have been so, so, so many times that i was told - "so what if he's a little bit homophobic, if you don't like him, don't watch his movies." "so what if they fired her. don't buy their product." "so what if they wouldn't make a rainbow cake. just don't support them."

sometimes i feel the meaning of it scud against my body, an orca whale inside of me, threatening the boat. it is too large to see from my place; this shadow of a thing that dwarfs my petty other-concerns. i need to find a dress for an event, and florida is passing more anti-gay legislation. i need to text my friend back and confirm our plans, and someone is throwing beer bottles to the floor in a walmart because a different case had rainbows on them. it is a long fall, if i look down into it; this sense like the bottom doesn't exist. like i have only ever dipped my toes in.

sometimes i am unbelievably tired of talking about it. it feels like it has become too trite in my own poetry - queer writer complains about the state of the world! how original! - and then something else happens, and i am here again. i remember that it isn't a moment. i remember it isn't a scattered population of cartoon evil-doers, intent on world domination from behind handlebar mustaches. it is a concerted effort of real people with real power who really-do want to see my end. it is a lifetime of dodging the beercan as it sails out of the back of the van. it is a lifetime of not-kissing once we leave the apartment. it is a lifetime of watching someone protest our existence and then, very slowly, giving them the finger. it is a lifetime of holding my friends' hands and hearing the same agony in their life that i lived through. it is us, together, our faces turned upwards, the night sky so vast, milky way overhead like a lacework zipper.

it is a lifetime of staring down woodchippers.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Hello Love, I was wondering if you would write one Dark! Yandere!Mafia! Bucky and Klaus x chubby reader, where they meet her at the park while she was having a stroll and a random group of boys start disturbing her, Klaus gets furious and bucky is already on the move, they save her and from then on they become friends according to the reader's perspective but to them she is already their Princess. They keep an eye on her, put security around her apartment as well as her work space and any man who even dares to look at her gets to face their wrath. One day they decide that they have had enough and kidnap her, obviously she is terrified but seeing them she is heart broken how can they do this to her but they don't think this to be an offense and begin courting her. Eventually she falls for them and you can continue Idk..... They tell her stories about the evil that lurk in the shadows just so they could keep her close making her feel safe in the hands of the Devils . Can you also write about how she is the one who kills Mikael when he attacks Klaus since Bucky was absent and she cannot bear someone hurting her Nikky. When Bucky returns he finds out about the whole event and is so proud of his Doll but it was her first murder and now she is so full of guilt and Klaus is doing a terrible job of comforting her so he takes the matter into his own hands...... Idk can I request a fluffy ending at the last. Sorry the request is too long. It would be great if you could write this one shot....... ( This is my first request)

(P.S. - My hands are shaking writing this up, I am super nervous)

I love you very much and your writings just make my day , if you don't feel comfortable you don't need to write it up.

Bye Love.

A Strange Kind of Love -Yan!Mafia!Bucky B./Klaus M.

It’s actually a very interesting idea and I like it a lot. I assumed you wanted a human AU. I went against my instinct on this one since you didn’t ask for a Daddy Kink so it does not contain DD/LG content

Also, you never need to be nervous to make a request, I don’t judge anyone for the things they want to read. I’m sure you can tell from the things I write (that range from strange to truly fucked up) that I understand wanting to read specific things or kinks or relationships and honestly (especially after writing this) I want to do more KlausxOCxBucky cause they’re so cute together with their Princess (so if you have more ideas make your requests). Never worry about your requests cause trust me, everyone on this app has thought about (and read) weirder in every way🤣

Thank you for the compliments btw, I’m so glad you love my stories so much. I never in a million years would have thought people would like them so much but it makes me so unbelievably happy🥰

Warning: Smut! Threesome, Breeding Kink, Kidnapping, Mentions of abuse, Mikael being a Dick

Bucky and Klaus hadn’t meant to be in the park that day at all. They had just gotten done taking care of a group of idiots who thought they could come into the Mikaelson’s city and do whatever they wanted. To their credit, Bucky had given them a warning, they just chose not to listen and Klaus had run out of patience, deciding that setting their house on fire sounded like fun. On the way out the cops were between them and their car so they had their man pull around the park and they would meet them.

On their way through the park to the car, they came across a scene that angered the both of them. A women, holding her bag tightly and trying to move away while 3 men were seemingly playing some kind of game with her as they grabbed at her clothes.

‘Come on babe, we just wanna play with you!’

‘Yeah, don’t run away, you have time for a game!’ One of the men pulled her shirt hard and ripped two of the bottom buttons apart making her scream, kicking him in the knee as hard as she could. The idiot collapsed with a yelp much like that of an angry chihuahua before glaring up at her.

‘Don’t touch me!’

‘Oh, you’re gonna get it for that one girlie!’ The other one grabbed her arm but was cut off, hearing the sound of Bucky clearing his throat.

‘That’s no way to treat a lady.’ Klaus stated, fingers around the handle of the blade he keeps tucked into his pants as the asshole released her and began backing away, clearly recognizing them.

‘My friend is right. Run along now and hope this young lady doesn’t want revenge for this later.’ Bucky spoke, helping her up from where she had fallen before the men ran away. ‘Are you alright?’ She nodded, holding the bottom of her shirt closed as Klaus came back, having run after the idiots a ways to scare them into not coming back, Bucky knew that Klaus loved to tease idiots like that in hopes they would fuck up and he could kill them. ‘I’m James but everyone just calls me Bucky, this here is my brother for all intents and purposes, Klaus. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kitten.’ Both men enjoyed the blush on her cheeks at the nickname, taken aback by how cute this girl was.

‘I’m Y/n, thank you for your help. I’m really grateful…oh fuck! I’m so late for work, I have to go!’ She turned to go when Klaus caught her arm making her flinch.

‘Sorry, no need to be afraid. I had just hoped we could have your number. We’d like to make sure you’re still alright later.’

As Y/n looked up at Bucky and Klaus she couldn’t help but feel safe. She didn’t know why but they were comforting and so she nodded, taking Klaus’ phone and doing just that for him.

Bucky and Klaus, upon getting to their car, began talking about the sweet girl they had met and realized they both felt a pull to her, one that was strong and desperate. It wasn’t often that Bucky and Klaus genuinely liked a women in any way other than wanting her in their bed, let alone the same women but they had shared before and they knew that Y/n was worth it.

They never thought it would become what it had, them falling in love with the perfect women, but here they are, head over heels a month after meeting and taking her out to dinner for the 4th time that week.

Neither of them could go very long without seeing their girl, both Bucky and Klaus knowing they have obsessive personalities but they also knew they would never hurt Y/n, they were in love with her.

Of course she was naive enough to think they were just her friends, never expecting both of them to want to be with her so it never crossed her mind that these were dates they were going on. The men saw no issue with Y/n in any way, she was their beautiful Babygirl. She was sweet and innocent, the most loving girl they had ever met and far more than they deserve (though they would never admit that they both knew that out loud), they never even considered that she didn’t ‘look the part’ of a women that they would normally date. She was a little on the chubby side but they loved everything about her, Bucky loving to feel her weight on top of him when he lays back on the couch, pulling her with him and refusing to even hear her complaints. Every time he ends up trying to hide his erection as he dreams of wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her still while he ruts his cock up into her tight little pussy until she’s crying in ecstasy. Klaus enjoys resting his head on her thick thighs like the comfiest pillow in the world while she plays with his hair, dreaming about the day that she would allow him to be smothered between them. He would eat her pussy like a man dying of thirst and could only imagine the sounds she would make for him.

They didn’t understand why she thought she wasn’t good enough for them but honestly it gave them time to get everything the way they needed it so they would put up with it, until the house is finished.

It was the mugging that pushed them over the edge.

She didn’t call them that morning like she always did, not even at least sending a text to say ‘good morning’ as she always had and so Klaus and Bucky found themselves in their Chevrolet Corvette E Ray (which Klaus had just gotten specifically to take Y/n for a scenic drive/picnic and impress her even if money didn’t really do that) to get to her as fast as they could.

They broke about 45 different traffic laws but the cop that noticed them and began driving after them pulled off quickly, probably having run the plates and realized who it was, not wanting all the paperwork or the lawyers involved just for whatever ticket he was going to write. Upon arriving at her apartment they found out that their girl had walked to the corner store that morning and been robbed, her phone being taken so she couldn’t text them. Bucky kissed her head before leaving the room, getting on his phone and having his men work to track hers and find the asshole who did it while Klaus used his phone to order them breakfast to be delivered, snuggling their Babygirl as close as he could and wiping her tears repeatedly before calling her boss to let him know she wouldn’t be in the next week. Thankfully they had met her boss at a work event they insisted on joining her at and the man wanted more than anything to impress them both.

They spent the day cheering their girl up, even getting her back her phone which had sadly been destroyed by the idiot trying to get into it before staying the night with her, snuggled between them in her bed.

‘This is the way it should be. Our Princess cuddled up between us without a care in the world.’ Klaus noted and Bucky agreed.

‘I called today, they’re working shifts round the clock now. The cabin will be finished in 2 days, Steve and Elijah are having everything moved in right now. Just 2 more days and our Kitten will be ours, brother.’ The men couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces, knowing they were going to keep their Babygirl safe where nothing could ever hurt her again.

Waking up was disorienting, the drugs clearly still being in her blood stream but she pushed through the feeling, sitting up to find herself in a huge bed that was probably the comfiest thing she had ever laid on. As she looked around, her head spinning with dizziness, the bedroom door opened and her head snapped up to see Klaus walk in.

‘Klaus! Thank God! I thought I was alone!’ She moved to the edge of the bed, Klaus catching her before she could collapse. ‘Where’s Bucky? Is he okay?!’

It was obvious that she didn’t immediately think that they had brought her here, she thought they had all been brought here together. ‘He’s downstairs making you some tea.’

‘Making tea? Why would…no…Klaus no…w-why?’ She whimpered, tears rising in her eyes but as Klaus moved to wipe them away she smacked his hand from her face, stumbling back as her legs gave out but not letting him help her.

‘Princess, please? Just let me-‘

‘Don’t Touch Me! Don’t You Ever Touch Me Again!’ She screamed, turning and using the bed to help her stand, turning to the door Klaus had just come through before he cut off her exit. ‘Why are you doing this? I want to go home Klaus, I’m scared and I want to go home.’

Klaus felt his chest tighten, hating to see tears on his Princess’ face. ‘You are home baby, it’s okay. We brought you here to keep you safe. No more mugging, no more shitty bosses or backstabbing friends, just us…you, me and Bucky. Doesn’t that sound nice?’

‘You kidnapped me…and now you want me to tell you that it sounds great here? Fuck you!’ She hissed, sitting back onto the bed before the door opened again and Bucky stepped in with a tray.

‘Good morning-Now I know you’re feeling a tad angry, but we did this to protect you.’

‘You pretentious asshole! You-‘

‘Enough!’ Bucky exclaimed, clearly done with her attitude making her flinch away and Klaus moved to her side, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his lips.

‘We will never harm you Baby, not ever. Please don’t flinch like that? You know we would never let you get hurt.’ Klaus’ eyes were big and needy, hating the idea that the girl he is desperately in love with would be afraid of him.

‘You Kidnapped Me! You were my friends! How could you guys-‘

‘We were never your friends, Doll.’

‘Bucky!’ Klaus snapped but he was ignored, Bucky’s metal fingers trailing down the side of her face.

‘We have been in love with you since the moment we met and there’s no way you don’t know that Kitten.’

‘You’re insane! Men like you don’t go for girls like me, let alone 2 of you! I’m not stupid…at least not completely considering I believed you cared about me to begin with.’

‘Okay, now you’re just being dramatic-‘

‘You’ve kidnapped me-‘

‘We Love You!’ He shouted, becoming overwhelmed with your disregard for their feelings. ‘We’ve loved you for months, Doll…this ain’t some casual fling for us, we’ve shared girls for a night before but never more than that. Never something like you…we love you so much Kitten, more than I thought possible.’ Bucky admitted, Y/n staring in shock, unsure of what to say.

‘As well as more than I thought myself capable.’ Klaus spoke up. ‘You know about my father…my family and I…I never thought I would be able to love someone the way people talk about in those cheesy love stories but you did that for me…you broke down walls I’ve been building since I was a child and I…I need you not to hate us. We had to protect you…Please?’ Klaus pleaded, desperate for her loving gaze to be back on him as it’s been since the day they met.

‘Klaus I-I could never hate you…but I don’t know that I can just get over being kidnapped by the people I trusted most in the entire world. You have to understand that, and so do you. I trusted you, the whole time you could have just told me how you felt but you didn’t, you let me think I was disgusting and fucked up for liking the both of you and now I don’t know that I can forgive you. Especially if this is who Bucky really is-‘ she said, turning to look at him. ‘because I loved the sweet man who snuggled with me whenever I was sad but this angry one who shouts at me for being upset at being Kidnapped? I don’t know who he is and I don’t know that I want to if this is the way you are.’ Bucky had the decency to look saddened by her admission but didn’t let it bother him too much as he handed her the cup of tea.

‘We do understand Princess, and there’s some things we need to tell you. No matter what though, you are safe with us.’ Klaus promised, kissing her hand and sat down beside her on the bed along with Bucky where they spent the next 2 hours explaining who they really were. Their lives, childhoods, and jobs they now had as the heads of 2 separate crime families that only joined together thanks to Klaus and Buckys resilient friendship.

Y/n would have been impressed if she wasn’t so horrified…she’s a bit impressed by them, though she refused to forgive them that quickly. They had a lot of making up to do if they wanted to be friends again…or whatever it is they really wanted to be…?

It was nearly a full week later that any kind of development happened in the battle Y/n was fighting against them.

The crash was startling and as much as Y/n wanted to pretend that she didn’t care, she didn’t want Klaus to be hurt and she knew Bucky wasn’t here leading to her standing from the bed and creeping down the stairs quietly. She had just planned to peek into the den to make sure he wasn’t dead before going back upstairs but as she looked in she saw Klaus on the floor with blood dripping from his nose and mouth and a man crouched over top of him with a sinister look in his eyes.

Y/n instantly recognized the man from the family pictures that Klaus had shown her. This was Klaus’ step father, the man that had spent Klaus’ entire life beating him senseless and making him believe he was unworthy of any kind of love and affection.

This was Mikael.

Bucky had spoken about murdering the man only 500 times in their relationship and she knew he wanted the man dead almost as much as Klaus did and she expected one day that he would show up.

What she didn’t expect however, was Klaus to lay there completely frozen, petrified.

Y/n, who had been trying so hard to remain angry at Klaus and Bucky in the last week, felt her heart break at the sight of this strong man who she had depended on time and time again, looking so small and scared. She knew she couldn’t just go back upstairs and do nothing, she hated this man. Hated him for everything he had done to Klaus, everything he had made her friend feel. She knew that Bucky would want to kill Mikael, she knew he would be doing it already if he was only here, but he’s not here…she is.

Y/n crept around to the living room and got to the fire place, retrieving the fire poker as quietly as possible, as well as the duct tape from the junk drawer before approaching the den again.

‘You really thought you could hide from me, didn’t you, boy? You’ve been hiding behind that boyfriend of yours since you met, found yourself a tough son of a bitch to protect you like the weakling you are and always have been. But he’s not here now, is he?’ She quietly crept up behind the man, instantly despising him even more than she already did which she would have thought was completely impossible. ‘Theres no one left to hide behind, who is going to protect you now, hmm?’

‘I am.’ Y/n spoke up, clearly startling him as he spun his head around only for her to swing the fire poker and slash it straight across his face. She swung it again into the back of his head before he could move and he collapsed off of Klaus and onto the floor. She hit him once more before grabbing the duct tape, rolling him onto his back and pulling his hands together to wrap the tape around them far too many times before doing the same with his feet before taping them together as if he was hog tied-just with way too much tape. Y/n turned to look at where Klaus had been laying and he had turned to see where his Step Father laid, eyes wide and completely shocked. She dropped the fire poker and moved to kneel beside him, wrapping her arms around his neck and he instantly sat up, pulling her onto his lap with his arms firmly wrapped around her waist. He was sniffling over and over, clearly trying to control himself and his body as it continued to shake thanks to the adrenaline rushing through it. ‘It’s okay. You’re safe now…you’re safe Klaus.’

Klaus reached his hands up, cupping Y/n’s cheeks and pressing his lips to hers desperately. It felt wonderful to be in Klaus’ arms again, she had missed him. ‘You saved me.’ He spoke against her lips, hands squeezing her waist.

‘‘Of course I did…I couldn’t let him hurt you. I love you…’ she admitted, seeing Klaus’ face light up in happiness before he pressed his lips to hers again, groaning as he felt her hand pulling his shirt over his head prompting Klaus to grab hold of her collar and rip her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere while he yanked it off, followed by her lacy black bra.

‘Gods, you are fucking perfection, you know that?’ One thing Y/n loved about Klaus and Bucky? They never failed to make her feel like the prettiest girl in every room. They never even seemed to notice the fact that she was chubbier than all of the women who stared at them unashamedly even when she’s right there as if she’s such little competition they don’t even have to think about it. They never even glance at other women when she’s there and even now, Y/n feels like the sexiest women in the entire world.

‘Your hands feel so good, never stop touching me, please?’

‘Never! Never stopping Princess, I will touch you for the rest of forever until we take to the grave and we are buried together for eternity! No more running, all ours now…’ he swore, lifting her leg over him from where she had sat on his lap so she now straddled his waist. Klaus pulled her pants down before just ripping them off to avoid moving her again. ‘So fucking perfect baby-‘

‘Please?’ She whined, feeling him move her thong to the side and brush his cock against her clit.

‘No need to beg Princess, don’t worry, I’m going to fuck you just how you need. My good girl deserves to be rewarded for protecting me, doesn’t she?’ Y/n nodded her head rapidly, crying out quite loudly when Klaus pushed his cock up and into her sopping wet cunt, stretching her hole deliciously. ‘So perfect baby! Perfect fucking cunt, oh Shit!’ He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist to pin her chest against him while the other arm rested up her back and his hand held her shoulder giving him the leverage to pull her down against him with every thrust of his hips.

‘Ah! Ah! Right there! Please?!’

‘There?’ Klaus wondered, thrusting his hips particularly hard.

‘Fuck Yes!’ Y/n shrieked, nails digging into his back again and most definitely drawing blood.

What neither of them heard in their blissful desperation was the front door opening and Bucky running into the house having gotten an alarm alert on his phone when Mikael came in. Neither Klaus nor Y/n were answering their phones and he was panicking until he heard the noises coming from the den. Peeking his head around the corner he was shocked to find a hog tied man that he recognized from Klaus’ family pictures as well as his brother with their girl on his lap, his cock buried inside of her as deep as possible.

‘Close…so close! Please?!’ She begged and Bucky moved quietly into the room crouching behind them. His hand moved between them finding his Kittens clit to roughly caress, her entire body stiffening a second later before she cried out and Klaus held her down against him as he grunted, cumming deep inside of their girl the way they had always dreamed of.

Once they had relaxed and Y/n had snuggled into Klaus’ neck, Bucky decided to make his presence known. ‘That was beautiful.’ He stated, both of them jumping in fright, Klaus ready to pull her behind him just as he realized that it was just his brother.

‘Fucking Hell Buck! Don’t do that, I’ve had enough scares for one day.’ He spoke and Y/n turned his head, kissing his lips softly.

‘He won’t touch you again Nikky, you’re safe now.’ She promised and he snuggled into her neck, enjoying her comfort.

‘Course you are bro, especially with our little protector here. You did this, didn’t you killer?’ He teased, but held a level of respect in his eyes that made her happy.

‘He was gonna kill him, I didn’t have a choice…I-‘

‘You did so well Kitten, I’m so proud of you!’ Bucky insisted, pulling her face closer to kiss her softly. ‘You know what that means, don’t you?’ She looked at him curiously while Bucky and Klaus looked at each other, knowing exactly what they’ve been waiting for for months on end. They were finally going to have her just the way they wanted. ‘Good little Kittens get rewarded…take her upstairs Nik, I’ll take care of him.’

‘But…I wanna watch.’ Y/n pouted making both men laugh.

‘Buckys gonna lock him in the shed. Don’t worry Love, you can see as much as you want to.’ Klaus hoisted her up into his arms and carried her through the hall and up the stairs to their bedroom, which made up the entire first floor other than a bathroom.

Bucky dragged the man down the hall and through the kitchen out the back door to the shed. They had it built just in case someone should decide to try and hurt their Babygirl here, giving them the perfect place to have some…fun with Mikael. Bucky cut all the tape off before chaining him to the floor in the center of the room, locking the doors behind him and quickly running back to the house where he locked everything else up as they wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

Y/n was back on Nik’s lap and kissing him contently when Bucky came back in, stripping off his suit in no time, crawling up onto the bed and getting their attention. ‘Wow…’ she mumbled as she looked over his toned body. Bucky knew he was nice to look at, while Klaus had muscle he was leaner where as Bucky held muscle extremely well and while his cock was slightly less thick than his brothers, it was almost a full inch longer. It drew their girls eyes instantly and he couldn’t hide his smirk if he wanted to.

‘Did you enjoy Nikky stretching your pretty little pussy on his cock?’ She nodded her head with a whine, turning to face Bucky who grabbed her thighs and yanked her forward. A squeal left her as she fell back onto the giant bed, him lifting her legs to present her cunt to his eyes. ‘I bet you did, but now it’s my turn and I’m gonna fuck my cock into you so deep you’ll be carrying my babies by morning.’ Her eyes widened dramatically before he leaned down and pressed his mouth against her clit.

‘Oh God!’

‘That’s right Princess, in this room we are your Gods. You worship and we give you everything you could ever want…riches-‘ Klaus leaned down, pressing his lips to hers sweetly. ‘-Pleasure…’ he kissed down her chest to her breasts, nipping her skin teasingly. ‘-Fertility…’ he smirked, wrapping his lips around her nipple and twisting the other just as Bucky shoved his tongue into her hole, his nose brushing her clit hard and sending her over the edge, making her cry out.

‘There you go, good girl!’ Bucky smirked, lifting her legs as he pushed his way between them, his long member brushing against her sensitive clit. ‘We’ve been waiting a long time for this Kitten, and you have too, haven’t you?’ Y/n whimpered as Klaus continued his teasing at her breasts. ‘We’re gonna put a baby in you tonight, one way or another.’ He gestured to Klaus who hopped up, moving to the closet and grabbing a box that he set on the edge of the oversized bed, pulling out a silicone plug with a purple jewel on the end making her tense and Bucky groan. ‘That’s right Kitten, we’re gonna fill you up all night long.’ He promised, taking hold of his cock and pressing it into her slick hole, not stopping until he bottomed out completely. ‘Nothings ever been so deep in this pretty little cunt, has it?’ She whined needily which answered his question just fine before he began thrusting into her.

‘Oh Fuck! Too Much!’

‘Too much? Too Much? Impossible! Our girl can take anything and everything we have to give her, can’t you Kitten? We’re gonna fill you so full you’ll be leaking all over the bed, gonna make us Daddies tonight, aren’t you?’ Tears were falling from her face as she nodded frantically, practically begging him for more. ‘Gonna plug you up so full it won’t be possible that you’re not knocked up!’ Bucky was thrusting up into her so hard she knew she would be sore but she couldn’t find it in herself to care as Klaus turned her head to the side and shoved his cock between her lips.

‘Fuck! Such a hot fucking mouth! Christ! Sucking my cock so good for me Princess!’ She moaned, choking on his cock as he pushed into the back of her throat.

‘Oh shit! Gonna fill you up so good Kitten, you want your pretty little pussy full don’t you? You need it!’ She moaned around Klaus’ dick but Bucky got the message just fine. ‘Yes, gonna give our girl a baby, Fuck!’ Bucky growled as he shoved his cock as deeply into her body as he could, cumming hard and holding her on him to keep himself as deep as he could. ‘My good little Kitten.’ He hummed, pinching her nipple teasingly.

‘Move Buck!’ Klaus insisted, pulling himself out of her mouth which caused her to whine, Bucky pulling out and laying beside her as Klaus stretched her hole around his cock again. ‘Just needed to fill your cunt again. You can drink my cum 10 times a day when this womb is full, but-ah! Until then we’re gonna fill this hole every…single…time! Oh Shit!’ Once again Klaus filled her up and she whined at how full her body felt now. His cock stayed buried into her as his hand put pressure on her lower belly, caressing her as if it would ensure their seed took.

‘Open your mouth.’ Bucky told her and she did, only to have the plug shoved between her lips to wet it before pulling it back out and moving to shove it into her cunt as soon as Klaus pulled back, not allowing a single drop spilled. ‘Good girl. Now, you rest because after you have had some time to relax, we’re gonna do it all over again.’ She whined before Klaus laid at her other side, shushing her.

‘Relax Princess. You’re all ours now, and we’re gonna take such good care of you.’

A Strange Kind of Love Moodboard

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Nicknames/petnames op characters like to call you PART TWO

Also suggestive warning for Ace, Marco, Izou

I don't care if law's is ooc btw he deserves to be sickly cute sometimes and yk we kinda saw how he can be when he loves something with that whole sora thing in wano so yeah I'm saying he can be affectionate as a treat.

Anyways here's like all the faves who are not strawhats:

Ace

Baby, sweetheart, pretty thing. Always says them in either the most flirty tone imaginable or the softest. Also he's like flirting with you 24/7 it's so bad but he jist can't turn it off around you like he's so down bad. 100% says heinous filthy shit but tacks on a cute nickname at the end to try and make it sound less intense. It does not work.

OBSESSED with you calling him love or my man and finds it ridiculously attractive. The first time it happened he set his bed on fire by accident and you both got lectured by pops :(. But seriously he just loves any and all verbal affirmation so naturally he adores nicknames. Doesn't get shy at all though, if anything reciprocating his chaotic behaviour makes it 10x worse.

Marco

Love/my love. Sweet and simple and he likes how clear it is to other people. He uses it a ridiculous amount though to be honest like you hear it more than your own name, it's to the point where if he says your name people on the ship don't know who he's talking about😭. Oh and he uses baby when he wants to tease you, like he drops his voice real low, leans really close into your space and speaks right next to your ear. Bit of a bastard tbh.

He blushes easily but doesn't shy away, in fact being called a nickname in return really makes him feel confident and puts him in the mood for affection. Though sometimes the nicknames make him feel...too affectionate. One time you called him pretty bird as a joke and he just sorta sat there, face getting gradually redder until you leaned towards him out of concern, at which point he promptly yanked you onto his lap and started what was one of your most intense make outs to date. Yk, casual things.

Thatch

Cutie, sweet thing, pretty thing. So so gentle with you and it reflects in how he speaks to you as well, even if he's upset or angry he still calls you the sweetest things because you're so precious to him. Though he's also a menace, if he finds out you like a specific petname then he starts discretely whispering it in your ear whenever he passes you to wind you up. Literally he doesn't care if you're having a serious conversation, he'll just slide in behind you and drop his voice to sound like a nice gravelly tone and purposefully make sure to exhale on the back of your ear to make you shiver.

Oh but he can't handle if you do it back, no this man folds like a lawn chair the second you start calling him anything other than his name.

Izou

Darling, dear, lovely, blossom. So casually smooth its unbelievable, also he starts calling you them before you get together. Like after a certain point of friendship and flirting, he just starts doing and saying the most romantic shit(Definitely thinks you're together before you actually are) and the crew are very confused and you're very confused but as if you're gonna complain yk.

This man gets so flustered when you use nicknames with him because it's not behaviour he's used to. Obviously he's been a pirate for a long time but he's actually very reserved and rarely dates so having someone who genuinely cares about him calling something sweet makes him blush so hard and you use that to your fully advantage. He gets revenge later though don't worry.

Law

Love, lovely, pretty, honey, every flowery pet name you can think of. He's so soft with you. He can't help how sickly affectionate he feels around you and it results in him just calling you all sorts of sweet words. He won't do it in public if he thinks you'll be put in danger or if he doesn't feel comfortable but like in front of the crew and strawhats and stuff he doesn't give a fuck. He'll just come up behind you while you're in the middle of a conversation, hand sliding down your lower back, and say sumthin like "are you okay my love?"

Blushes to high heaven if you call him something cute back, he just melts like butter. If he's in a bad mood or like in an argument or something you only have to come up and say hi love and he's all :///))

Kidd

Babe to the public. My love, gorgeous, pretty baby when you're alone. It's not really that he doesn't want to call you those things in public, he just doesn't want enemies to understand how important you are to him but also he doesn't want to keep your relationship a secret because he's obsessed with you and wants to brag about being yours.

Makes him really cocky if you use petnames with him. Like he'll flush but get so overconfident the second you say love or baby or anything of the sort. He doesn't care where you are either, he's just hauling you into his space immediately so he kiss the fuck out of you.

[galaxyshine24-7]

Azul- Dear bartender, why don't you sell your bar to me- Blue asking the same question for the 765838th time a week

Yuu- Who knows when I leave the NRC

Azul- Absolutely perfect dear, so why.... - you just understood what Yuu said- Leave the NRC? As?

The moment Yuu says he's going to leave one day I can see Leona choking on her drink and Malleus almost swallowing the straw of his milkshake, before everyone bombarded the bartender with questions and Trying to make Yuu stay

I think so much about the say Yuu finally tells them their future plans. It was a day like any other. After a few overblots and bonding between the bartender and the leaders, Yuu would finally reveal their plans for the next steps.

Leader's Reactions to Yuu Leaving NRC

It was a quiet day in NRC as the sun set over the horizon. Yuu carefully cleans a glass listening to Azul go on and on for the hundredth time about a deal between the Mostro Lounge and the Silver Bullet. As always it's just business as usual however Yuu's mind was else where.

"And so, I believe if you just hand over the rights of the bar and work under me, dear bartender. I promise your life will be smooth sailing with riches beyond your wildest dreams." Azul hums swirling his drink.

Yuu's eyes flutter over to him from the window giving Azul a blank stare.

"If you want the bar so much you can have it when I leave."

"As I thought, you would refuse my offer so I prepared- wait what?" Azul looks at Yuu flabbergasted.

"When I leave you can have the bar," Yuu states slowly. "I don't plan to stay in NRC forever.

Riddle spits out his tea, and Vil stops filing his nails. The crash of a glass sends the room in complete silence as Malleus stares down at his spilled drink.

Oh no, Yuu forgot the rest of them were here for a moment. They know they're in trouble when the other leaders turn their gaze toward the bartender.

The leader of Heartslaybul has heard many outrageous things over the years, but nothing so unbelievable as someone leaving NRC. Why what could possibly be the problem. Azul asked the same question as Yuu leans against the counter.

"Well NRC is not safe, I wouldn't want to raise a family here."

Riddle blushes at that statement before composing himself.

"It's plenty safe here, I make sure my district upholds NRC's rules to a tee." Riddle crosses his legs giving Yuu a hard stare.

"Sorry, but a 9:30 pm curfew doesn't sound all that pleasing." Yuu rolls their eyes.

"I make exceptions for holidays." Riddle retorts.

"Yeah no thanks." Yuu shakes their head.

"What do you mean to raise a family? Do you have children Yuu?" Vil turns to the bartender analyzing their reactions.

"A secret love child oh magnifique!" Rook exclaims clapping happily.

The other leaders look to Yuu for the answer.

"Oh no I don't have children, but eventually I would like some." Yuu waves off the question.

"What about NRC do you find so inadequate prefect?" Vil opens his fan to hide his frown.

"Well it's overrun with gangs, children can't even play in their own neighborhoods, the people here live in constant fear, and the list goes on. Plus I want to see more of the world." Yuu sits up counting the issues on their fingers.

"So it's our fault?" Idia exclaims feeling his blood start to boil. "NRC would have been a total dumpster fire without us. It would be a free-for-all in the sector."

"No it's not your fault, this place had issues way before you all came along." Yuu pinches the bridge of their nose. "This is why I didn't say anything." Everyone freaks out whenever someone talks about leaving NRC it's like a taboo. Yuu was so deep in thought it kind of just came out. Plus they were tired from Azul's constant pestering. "It shouldn't surprise you that someone would want to leave." Yuu shakes their head.

"What makes you think you can leave?" Leona leans in from his seat staring Yuu down.

"Leona-" Kalim tries to relieve the tension.

"Because I said so." Yuu places their hands on their hips returning his stare. "No one owns me I'm just a bartender, and I will come and go as I please. It seems some of you need a reminder of that fact" It is a threat, and Yuu would use their teachers if any of the leaders truly crossed a line.

"I think what everyone means to say it would be a bit sad if you left Yuu." Kalim speaks up.

"Just because I move doesn't mean I won't come back. I'll make sure to visit." Yuu smiles, as Kalim sighs in relief.

"Put I don't want you to leave shrimpy you should stay." Floyd whines.

"Yes, Yuu it would not be as fun without you." Jade adds.

"I'm not leaving tomorrow or the next, it's just a plan of mine for the future. No use worrying about it now." Yuu goes to wipe off the counter done with the conversation.

The others mutter to themselves as Malleus looks over at his friend who's gaze shifts back to the window.

Outside is a mother, father, and their child. The child holds both of their parent's hands splashing in the puddles from the fresh rain. The sound of glass breaking and cars going off causes the family to panic soon rushing down the street.

All Yuu wants is someplace warm with fields and trees maybe then they can finally remember something about their past. For Yuu only knows that they came from someplace warm and green, the very opposite of NRC.

[soraisnotsleepy]

Enki Ankarian in... love?!?! (small drabble + headcanons) 🪱🪲

C/Ws: slight desc of sickly appearance AND NOT PROOF READ enjoy wonky yummy grammar because I do too

• I know, it's unbelievable that Enki, of all people, can fall in love!!! Despite his antisocial personality and hermit way of lifestyle, he is still capable of basic human emotions (yet he's bad at naming them or recognizing at all)

• For him to develop any kind of relationship, he must be bound to that person by circumstances (for e.g, being stuck in the dungeons of Fear and Hunger, like you're rn!!!). Since he's forced to spend time with you like this, he will unintentionally get used to your presence because, like, he has to. You were crucial to him, without your assistance dwelling deep into the dungeons would be a one way trip towards death itself

• Like this he bears with you. Thoughts of '"how are they" and "what are they thinking" will slowly creep into his rotten dark brain. You will soon find him more talkative and genuinely invested in whatever relates to you. He will ask more questions about you without you being the conversation's initiator

• Yet he will still try to keep distance between him and you. He's not used to any sort of affection or a relationship based on trust. Expect him to warm up to you and then distance himself again as soon as he realizes that he got too close

• Of course he'll start worrying about your well-being as well. Y'all need to go over to that dark mysterious corner? Enki will go first and keep you behind him. Nonono! You can't eat that rotten cabbage, eat this fresh carrot instead. Enki has eaten worse, this hopefully won't upset his stomach that much unlike yours. You're really tired and sleepy? Let's rest in this room with a bed. Take that bed instead, Enki's fine with leaning against the wall nearby

• Okay help I'm running out of ideas /srs,,,, BUT LEMME JUST THROW IN THIS:::

(y/n) barely could keep up with the dark priest. Their feet gave away, with each step their legs felt heavier and heavier. Yet they kept quiet. They couldn't afford to just rest here out of all places, too far away from the surface. In such a dark place filled with grotesque gore scent and soggy filthy ground. Despite all that, it couldn't keep their mind away from sleepiness and hunger.

*thud*

And (y/n) fell on the ground loud and hard. Enki immediately turned his head to his companion's direction and strictly asked:

"What's that all of a sudden?"

"Don't worry, I accidentally tripped," (y/n) answered as they desperately tried to get up.

It really looked pitiful. Their hands trembled and they barely could lift up their fragile frame. The priest huffed at their words (especially the "don't worry" part) and walked up to them to give them a lift.

"You're horrible at lying," Enki commented as (y/n) leaned against his shoulder.

They were completely pale, it was as if their body was deprived of blood. It didn't look like this before, well not that bad. Enki frowned his eyebrows.

"We're still not close to Ma'habre, don't you dare to die on me." and with those words you both walked around in search of a safe room.

The man's cold heart ached at his companion's sickly appearance. It was too much. He couldn't drag you to the ancient city in such a vulnerable state. You weren't just a meat shield like he thought at first, you were something more to him that he refused to say out loud in his head.

In this hell of a place, both dwellers were successful in finding a relatively safe place to rest. Enki placed (y/n) against the wall and proceeded to set up a bonfire. It was painfully cold, a single torch failed to keep anyone warm.

As the priest was trying to set up a fire, (y/n) finally found some strength to speak "We don't have to rest unless you need it... I can go on, it was nothing really,"

Enki sighed and said nothing. What he wanted to say he couldn't. Someone like him can't soften up. Someone like him can't succumb to 'lowly' human feelings and say words of comfort. Eventually the fire was set and he could rest alongside with you. Enki took his bag and found a piece of dried meat between books and various potions. Without a second thought, he offered it to (y/n):

"Eat,"

(y/n)'s eyes widened at this gesture. After five seconds of silence, they shook their head.

"But this is the last food we have. Let's at least split it-" (y/n) tried to reason with Enki, but he interrupted.

"No, just take it,"

Of course (y/n)'s stomach already felt like it was about to eat itself from inside out, yet they just couldn't bare with the thought of eating all it themselves.

"That's unreasonable," they tried to argue.

But Enki was unusually stubborn in this matter "I insist."

They were already at their brink of blacking out from starvation and exhaustion, so they agreed. And like this, (y/n) started eating while Enki flip through some ancient book of unknown origins to them. It felt so serene to be like this with him. Too serene, too cozy for the dungeons of Fear and Hunger. Too comfortable to the point that (y/n)'s eyes began to close by themselves. Enki noticed it (because he was occasionally throwing glances at you).

"Sleep, sleep. I'm not fatigued, I will keep an eye on our surroundings." The dark priest spoke as he continued to read his book.

(y/n) could swear that they saw his strict facial expression soften up a little bit. Or was it the lighting creating an illusion?

Thoughts of why Enki did what he did plagued (y/n). Was it purely to keep them alive so that it will secure him a somewhat safe travel to the ancient city? Or was it because he wasn't a cold hearted monster after all? With these thoughts, (y/n) finally closed their eyes and fell into a deep slumber. Their head landed on Enki's shoulder. The dark priest sighed and kept reading.

"And why do I even like you." He quietly mumbled to himself, not really meant for you to hear.

[kimbap-r0ll]

I lightbulb just went off in my head. Imagine the dorm leaders (maybe replace Malleus with Jamil because we don't know his unique magic yet) with an s/o who's unique magic is the complete opposite of theirs. Headcanons please, thank you.

Sincerely, peanut 🥜 anon

Ooh wait this is really interesting, sorry I'm getting to it so late ;-;. Thank you for the ask 🥜 anon! I'm taking Malleus out of this one but I'll keep Kalim. ALSO! SPOILERS AHEAD!

Dorm leaders + Jamil with an s/o who has a unique magic that is opposite of theirs

Riddle

Your ability to take off curses more or less is impressive, more so with the name that you gave it which was "Heal what has been hurt." It was a strong spell meant to take off a curse that was placed on a person, and that made Riddle's "Off with your head" cancel out

Of course a lot of students would come running to you for help, asking you to take off the comically large lock on their necks. You were a kind person at heart and honestly wanted to help out, but Riddle told you the moment you and he became partners that you wouldn't be doing that. However, to students that were new to the dorm you let them free

Riddle wants to learn a bit more from you about your magic skills. He wants to know how to get to that advanced level of magic but he also wants to know if there are any downsides to such a powerful spell. Of course he wants to keep you safe from overblotting like he did once

I feel like overall he will respect you and be proud of you for your strengths. However he might tell you that you don't have to be so kind as to releasing Ace and Deuce every time they get their heads "sliced" off by Riddle

Leona

You are unbelievably strong with the magic you have. Leona has nothing but pride for what you can do, but he also wonders where you learned to master such a spell

Leona turns things into sand while you recreate things from sand. You might have similar magic to Leona's brother, but we don't know that for sure. Either way, a lot of students find you super cool for being able to make things like small boxes from sand to large intricate statues

Your magic ability might be named something like "Rise from the dust" and honestly it's super cool to watch you create something from literally nothing. Leona might ask you on occasions to make random stuff for him that he needs (ie pencil for class)

I feel like Leona won't really worry too much about you with that strong magic, but he will still make sure you aren't over exhausting yourself to the point of overblot. Expect sudden nap times!

Azul

If you can somehow reverse a contract and help someone regain their abilities, then omg you must be the strongest character in Twisted Wonderland

I feel like Azul and you might have met through the enemies-to-lovers trope if you were somehow reversing his spells and ended up winning against a bet that you made with him. Like omg, he would admire you and hate you so much to the point where he ends up liking you 💀

Will try to keep you away from his business just in case you're too nice to say no to students that haven't repaid him. Floyd and Jade might keep an eye on you too because of this. But most importantly, Azul doesn't want students to swarm you for something that he caused

Overall understand that he loves you and wants to keep you away from stressing over student demands. If you feel that a business however can be made from your spell, he'll gladly help you out (it will be like an insurance company haha)

Kalim

You can create fire out of nowhere, which is the opposite of "Oasis Maker." You were promptly told not to use your magic in potions class when you threatened to set Ace's hair on fire 😭

I feel like Kalim really thinks your cool but Grim's also a big fan (mainly because he too uses fire). Kalim isn't really interested in the intricacies of your spell but will ask you how big of a flame you can make

I feel like you won't be asked much about your ability from people, and Jamil might look to you as an extra bodyguard for Kalim if needed. Some students tried to fight you and all you did was set a little flame on their sandwich and that was enough for them to stop trying to flex their muscles 😭

Kalim will view you more for your personality than your ability however. It's like you guys are "Fireboy and Watergirl" but switched around haha

Jamil

He too won't really care too much about your abilities, that is until you stop his plans of usurping Kalim's position as dorm leader at first. He too might have a scenario of enemies-to-lovers with you

You are able to be immune from any form of mind control, and it was frustrating when you kept looking at him like he was crazy when he attempted to make you forget about his mumblings of overthrowing Kalim. But then he ended up realizing after he overblotted that yeah that's not a good idea :/

I feel like he wouldn't really care too much about your abilities being exploited but he would make sure you are taken care of nonetheless. Stressed out about school? He's there to help. Kalim's also bothering you? You guys are texting each other about it. Things like that

Jamil definitely tells you he's sorry for attempting to use his unique magic on you. He will want to learn how you created your own abilities but outside of that he won't really ask you about your magic

Vil

You have a similar ability to Riddle's and you might be stronger honestly than most people in your realm. You can reverse curses? Even ones that Vil has a hard time removing? How?!

Vil definitely looks up to you for magic help but at first he was skeptical. He asked if it was true that you were able to reverse any spells and lo and behold you did when Vil was attempting to curse an object for practice.

Outside of making sure you look perfect wherever you go, Vil will make sure the unique magic you have isn't causing a toll on your health. Turns out your ability is extremely draining, so he tells you to take care of yourself and will help out in the process too

Overall similar to the other dorm leaders, he loves you for your beauty both on the inside and outside. Your unique ability is a really cool part of you, but he cares more about how kind you are to him and others.

Idia

You have an ability that is similar to Idia's, but all you can do is close S.T.Y.X's doors and not open them. You were likely one of the top security people at the headquarters and one who was close to Idia and Ortho since you were young

Idia likely was too afraid to talk to you at first, but he really admired you from the beginning. Idia doesn't really like his own ability because of how it is connected to S.T.Y.X but knowing that the two of you can keep it from opening up and potentially destroying the world makes him feel like a super hero from an anime haha

More than your ability, he loves you for how caring you are. You make him smile more often than most people have ever seen him, and he can't help blushing anytime you hug him both in public and in privacy

Idia definitely admires you for your ability but also likes you for who you are. If you geek out with him that's even better haha

[tillthelandslide]

She's Got A Boyfriend Anyway - Ross Macdonald x Reader x Matty Healy One Shot

Warnings: smut, minors DNI

A/n: okay so I've been putting off writing this for a while... I had an idea but couldn't make it work for ages and finally just sat down and wrote the damn thing. I'm really unsure about it but I'm posting it anyway as I know some of you want it. I like parts but hate others so sorry about that. Here it is anyway, hope you like it?

She was everything either of them had ever wanted. She was the most beautiful person they had ever met, inside and out. She was a complicated, multi-dimensional person, with cracks and blemishes.

They were obsessed and she was hooked. The whole situation seemed unhinged but the truth is she considered herself to be unbelievably lucky that she had them both.

Ross was this absolute god of a man, someone she had fawned over for what felt like a decade. She never thought in her wildest dreams she'd get a man like him. He was her safe haven, the person who just seemed to see through all the walls she had built up. He saw her for everything she was and most importantly he loved her for it, for all the flaws and cracks, every blemish and scar. He healed her and loved her in the way everyone knew she deserved. Their relationship was intense, both romantically and sexually. She was his through and through but he also allowed his best mate to have her too, something most people (people outside Hann, George and a few others) wouldn't understand. To the outside world, she was Ross' and Ross' only, no one needed to know what happened when the lights went out, under the covers in hotel rooms or in their shared home.

Matty was a live wire, someone she thoroughly enjoyed being around, someone who made her laugh and someone who gave her confidence, he set fire to every negative thought she had about herself. Despite being madly in love with Ross, she held Matty in high regard, he was someone she always wanted around. She was undeniably attracted to him, not in the way she was with Ross (her soul didn't yearn for him) but she still ached for him.

The couple truly loved Matty, he was more than their friend, more than a plaything, he was their partner. They saw him for who he truly was, not some persona or image, just Matthew. He was a delicate soul and they were truly infatuated with him.

Matty was fun for the both of them, Ross enjoyed seeing the way Matty was with her and enjoyed the way he made her feel, it was exciting to watch. At first she was worried Ross would be jealous but that couldn't be farther from the truth. It was initially Ross' idea and although they were all apprehensive at first, it came almost naturally to them.

She was perched in Ross' lap, legs stretching across Matty whose palms were splayed across her thighs, constantly grabbing and groping at the skin, making her giggle. Her fingertips of one hand were playing with Ross' beard, whilst the other found Matty's hand. Her and Ross were having a hushed conversation whilst Matty spoke to someone across the room from them.

All of the boys had a post concert high, the room was buzzing and everyone was excited.

"You looked so good tonight" she whispers in his ear, her eyes drifting along his face, gauging his reaction. Her words are successful when his cheeks stretch, the familiar dimples resting against them as he smirks down at her.

"Yeah you think?" He asks, his large hand engulfing hers before playing with her fingertips.

"I don't think, I know" she nods, she bites her lip which makes him chuckle, shaking his head down at her.

"Well I think..." He starts, his fingertips drifting along her thigh, stopping when they reach the hem of her skirt.

"I think, you look absolutely ravishing, could see you out of the corner of my eye the whole show" he says, her cheeks flush at his words, the deep tone to his voice letting her know what his intentions were.

"Could see the way you were biting your lip, bet you're aching for me"

"How did that make you feel hmm? Seeing your girl there, just waiting for you" She challenges, her tone hushed still. His eyes darken almost immediately, and the smirk resting against his face deepens as his eyes drift over her face, landing on her lip which is in-between her teeth. His fingertips pluck at them, removing her lips from the attack.

"Think you know how it made me feel" he murmurs, eyes concentrated on her lips. She leans in further, tempting the tall man.

"You know you could just kiss me instead of just staring"

"I know. I'm quite enjoying staring at you right now" he says, making her chuckle. He mumbles something into her ear about sharing her tonight and she smirks at him, asking if it's okay, which of course it is.

He decides he's had enough of staring at her and moves to press his lips to hers. She momentarily lets go of Matty's hand, her hand coming to rest against Ross' jaw, holding him against her as he takes her bottom lip into his mouth.

Matty finishes his conversation as he feels her hand slip from his.

His head turns towards them and he smiles.

"Well look at you two" he says, making the both of them pull away from each other and turn their heads, they both smirk at him, Ross shaking his head at the man.

"Starting without me?" He asks, his words presuming he was going to be involved, not that either of them minded because it was the truth. His fingers grasped her hand which had been left untouched for a few moments.

"Never Matty" she speaks "Just talking" she finishes.

"Sure... Talking about how much you wanna do each other" he chuckles, his hands find his pack of cigarettes, he offers her one and she nods, her mouth opens slightly as he slides the tip of the cigarette in-between her crimson lips. Her eyes are focused on his now and he has to hold back the grunt that threatens to fall from his mouth.

"Jesus" he says, running a hand through his curls. Ross laughs behind her, Matty lights his fag and then hers. Her head turns slightly to Ross as she breathes in, slowly blowing the smoke into his mouth. Her head then snaps back to Matty, who's fingers had slowly been creeping up her thigh.

Matty's eyes are finding Ross' then as his movements on her thigh halt until Ross nods his head at the man, letting him know it's okay.

His eyes land on hers then, watching as she sucks the cigarette, breathing in the nicotine. He looks into her eyes, waiting until she nods too, letting him know she wanted this just as much as the two of them. Ross takes a drag from her cigarette before watching as she takes it into her own mouth.

Ross' lips are then pressing against her neck, sucking at the flesh and making her eyes flutter slightly. They snap open to find Matty, who takes the cigarette from her fingertips, stubbing both out and pulling her slightly towards him, Ross following their movements, not allowing his lips to leave her neck.

"you're so pretty darling" Ross says, making Matty nod, agreeing with his words.

The room had completely cleared now, leaving them alone, just the way they liked.

"Come here" Matty says, his hand holding her jaw lightly, tugging her forward until her lips grazed his

"Don't be shy love' Ross mumbled into her ear, she shuffled around in his lap, causing Ross to grunt deeply into her ear and making her lips fumble against Matty's.

"Be a good girl for us" Ross says, pushing his lips against her neck until she's pressed against Matty, lips finally connecting with his. His breath escapes him at the initial taste of her, a mix of her, the cigarette and Ross, the taste all too familiar to the curly haired man, one in which he secretly (or not so secretly) craved all hours of the day.

"Missed the way you taste love' Matty mumbles as his tongue greedily swipes over her bottom lip, saliva connecting their mouths as she gasps due to Ross having bitten her neck. It had been a week since the three of them had done this and all of them had been craving it desperately.

She doesn't speak but a moan falls from her lips, her mouth falling open as Ross pushes her hips down, forcing her onto his clothed member, rubbing himself against the swell of her arse.

"Fuck" he grunts into her ear, making her turn her head. Ross' eyes somehow darken as his thumb swipes over her lip, collecting the mixture of Matty and her saliva, bringing it into his own mouth and groaning at the taste.

Matty's lips are the ones to find her neck now, letting Ross have her for a few moments. Matty's hands drift up her waist, slipping under the fabric of her shirt. They were very good at sharing, giving the other one the time they needed with the girl they both were obsessed with and focusing all their attention on her, just begging her to let them do anything. Ross was more than willing to share her with Matty, after all he got to have her all to himself most of the time.

"Look so good darling" Ross says, pressing a kiss to her mouth before pulling back.

"What do you want love?" He asks and Matty pulls away from her neck, eyes flicking between Ross and her, both men waiting for her answer. Her mouth hangs open and she swallows, lost for words.

Ross chuckles deeply, thumb resting against her lips again, pressing against it until her mouth opens. He holds her there for a few seconds, eyes flicking behind her to Matty, who smirks. They both know what to do, something that will have her soaking through her underwear (as if she wasn't already).

Matty tugs the tall man towards him, lips pressing against each other as she moans at the sight, lips closing around Ross' thumb and sucking, making him groan into Matty's mouth. Their kiss is messy, tongues pressing against each other with only one intention.

Ross removes himself from Matty, nodding at the man, whos hand finds the back of her head, getting her to tilt it backwards, Ross presses his thumb that's in her mouth down, making her jaw open and then he's lowering his head, forcing her to take the mixture of him and Matty, making her groan ferally.

His mouth slips from her mouth and she tilts her head back down, swallowing their joint saliva making the both of them groan loudly. Dark eyes looking at each other before snapping back to her.

"Now, I said, what do you want?" Ross says, his tone firm now.

"you, I want you… both of you" she says and they both smirk. Finally getting the answer they wanted.

Matty is standing then, hand grasping hers and pulling her up until she's standing too. Ross is quick to undo the skirt she's wearing, tugging it down her legs whilst Matty presses his lips to hers.

Ross' large hands take handfuls of her arse, making her moan loudly. He then spins her until she's facing his direction, his face level with her panty clad cunt. Ross looks up at her through his lashes, lowering himself until his lips graze her clothed core.

Matty watches the couple in awe, hand palming himself through his jeans. Ross hooks his fingers into her underwear, tugging them down her legs. He doesn't waste any time, mouth pressing against her, making her gasp an airy moan as her hands weave into his hair.

Matty pulls at Ross' hair band releasing it from its confines, allowing her to grasp properly at the strands now as his mouth sucks greedily at her clit.

"Ross" she moans loudly, the man groaning into her.

"Matty" he says against her core, voice commanding him to do something, not wanting anyone to hear them. So Matty presses his mouth back to hers, swallowing her moans.

Ross tongue moves so it's flat against her, taking up the expanse of her pussy. Her legs shake and she pulls away slightly because of the pleasure and Ross' hands find the back of her thighs, pressing her firmly into her mouth until she's moaning loudly again into Matty.

Matty removes himself from her mouth, rounding the back of her and wrapping his arms round her chest, pulling her against him until her arse is flush with his aching member.

His hands find her hips, forcing her to grind against him, Ross shuffles forward until he's pressed back into her cunt, face buried in-between her thighs. There's no space between them. She grinds back into him and Ross allows the movement to aid his ministrations.

Matty is grunting into his ear as he gets the friction he so desperately wanted.

"Ross what about you?" She sighs out and he shakes his head making her sigh loudly in pleasure.

"Don't worry about me love' he says "just need you to come for me" his words have her snapping over the edge, juices coating his tongue.

She quickly pulls him up from the sofa, straining her neck so she can reach his lips. She can taste herself on his tongue but she doesn't care. Her hands easily find his zipper, undoing it quickly as their mouths move against each other. Matty's still grinding himself against her, sighing into her neck as he watches the couple make out.

She's pushing Ross' trousers and boxers down his legs in one quick movement, small hand grasping his large aching member in her hand making his head snap backwards as she begins stroking him.

"Fuck' Ross grunts, before he's looking at Matty, "take your jeans off" he says, Matty doing it not even a second later.

"Want you Ross" she sighs against his mouth, feeling the way he clenches in her hand at her words.

Ross pushes her hand away from his cock, spinning her around to face Matty now.

"Take Matty" Ross says, her own wrapping around Matty's cock now, her movements almost falter as Ross threads the head of his cock through her folds.

"Fuck" all three of them say in unison, her hand is stroking Matty as Ross pushes into her wet cunt from behind.

He thrusts his hips forward, making sure to angle his hips so the head of him presses against her gspot with every thrust.

She spits into her hand to provide Matty with some more lubrication as she quickens her movements, making Mattys hips snap forward, thrusting into her hand now. Ross doesn't stop fucking into her, her cunt clenching around him perfectly.

The sounds in the room are absolute feral, Ross' hips snapping into her, skin slapping against her arse as her sopping core splatters and clenches around him, matty groans at the sound, his hips rapidly shooting forward into her hand.

Her legs shake under her and Matty makes sure to hold her, supporting her so she doesn't fall. She moans loudly as Ross grunts, his cock leaving her before snapping back in, repeating the action over and over.

"Fucking made for me love' Ross grunts into her ear, pressing his lips to her cheek.

"Fuck" she moans. Matty's hand wraps around hers, directing her until the head of him is pressing against her clit. She almost screams at the euphoric feeling it brings her. Her boyfriend and the love of her life, fucking her as if he's life depended on it and his best friend rubs his cock on her clit.

Her orgasm is quickly approaching and she knows by the way that Ross' breath has got shallow in her ear and the way he's repeating her name that he's close too. Her eyes find Matty's and he knows he's nearing his own release as his eyebrows are furrowed.

"Let go for us love" Matty says, mouth pressing against hers again.

"Fuck" she scream, clenching around Ross' large cock as her hands clasp Matty's shoulders.

"Fucking love you - fuck" Ross says, his juices coating her walls.

"Matty' she sighs, needing him to cum as she was now becoming overstimulated with the pressure on her clit.

"fuck" he says, his hips stilling as his cums, coating her abdomen in his juices.

"Fucking hell we're lucky" Matty moans through his post high state, his eyes finding his best mate who nods at him, agreeing with his words.

Matty loosens his grip on her shoulders and Ross is quick to grasp the dazed woman, carrying her to the sofa they were once sitting on. Matty sits down first as she clings to Ross like her life depends on it. He places her into Matty's lap, who's quick to place soft kisses to her neck, helping her snap back to reality.

Ross is still standing, positioned directly in front of the pair. He gently grasps her chin, making her look up at him.

"Are you with us love?" He says making her nod up at him, pursing her lips, asking for a kiss from the tall man, who leans down to comply with her wish.

"I love you" she confirms against his mouth, making him sigh happily. Matty watches with a wide smile on his lips, he wanted what they had but he was also unbelievably grateful that they allowed him to be a part of it, receiving just a fraction of the love they shared for one another, although that small part was plenty for the curly haired man.

"I love you too. Think you've got another one in your love?" Ross says as he pulls away, his words are far from sweet but the way he says it, wanting to confirm she was willing before even moving another inch, is undeniably sweet.

"Yes please" she nods up at him making him smirk as he thumbs her lower lip, slipping the pad of his thumb into her wet mouth, cock hardening again at the site.

He lets her go then, so she can turn to Matty. She gives him one look and he's nodding.

"I'll take whatever I can get from you, you should now that by now babe… so fucking lucky" Matty says before pressing his lips firmly against hers.

Ross pulls them apart, not out of jealousy but out of desperation. His dominance shines through and both Matty and her are putty in his hands.

"Raise your hips a bit, love" he says, the woman doing as he says not a moment later. His hand weaves between them, albeit a bit awkwardly with the angle. He grasps the base of Matty who was already rock hard and teases the head of him along her folds, making the both sigh out.

"Look at you two, do I have to do everything for you?" He says making the both of them nod up at him. They both know he enjoys it so they play along.

"Fucking pathetic" he says, smirking down at the two of them as they whimper bebeath him. Ross was always the tallest in the room, often people would find him intimidating, but most of time he made her feel safe, he was her large teddy bear. But right now, he towered over the both of them, his shadow casting over them, dark eyes staring down at them. They both knew they'd do anything he said.

"Matty, do it" he says, Matty knowing what he means without the instructions being clear. So he grasps himself from Ross' hand, keeping up with the movements he was doing before. Running the head of him along her folds, teasing the both of them.

"You okay love?" Ross says and he takes his own member in his hand tapping it against her mouth. She nods up at him, moaning as her mouth falls open. She knows what he wants and she's never one to stop him, so she simply pushes her head forward until the whole length of him is swallowed by her mouth.

His grunts are deep and they resonate around the room, making her even wetter.

"Fuck her Matty" Ross demands, Matty not needing a second to think about it before he's pushing himself into her opening, making her gasp out a moan around Ross' cock.

"Need you to be a good girl and raise those hips for me love" Ross says and she follows suite, only pushing back down when Ross nods.

"Good girl, keep doing that" Ross says upon seeing how Matty's face contorts in pleasure. She does as she's told, bouncing up and down on Matty's cock, the both of them nearly screaming at the feeling.

Ross begins thrusting his hips forward, forcing his cock into her mouth before pulling back, fucking her face harshly.

"Fuckkkk" he moans out, head snapping backwards.

Matty feels her struggling so grips her hips, thrusting up into her to get them both the pleasure they needed. She clenches around Matty as euphoria washes over her, the moans he's drawing from her vibrating around Ross' cock, making his hips stutter momentarily, sending the head of him to the back of her throat.

She gags slightly and Ross pulls back slightly, grasping her chin as he looks at her, making sure she's all right. He slips from her for a second to let her breathe and stop if she needed, but Ross smirks when he sees her looking completely fucked out.

"Carry on" she says and he chuckles deeply.

"Yeah? Enjoying yourself?" He says and she nearly screams as Matty delivers a particularly hard thrust into her, hitting her g spot perfectly. She can't speak so just nods at the man, and he returns into her mouth not a second later.

Thrusting harshly forwards, pulling back until only the head of him is revealed before snapping back in. Tears fill her eyes as pleasure courses through her body.

"So fucking tight" Matty grunts and Ross moans at his words, knowing they're so true. The tears run down her cheeks and Ross is quick to catch them, wiping them away sweetly.

"Feel good Matty?" Ross asks and he nods quickly, spiraling out of control. Ross sees the way Matty's eyes fall closed and how his eyebrows furrow and he knows he's close.

"Oh fuck" he grunts and Matty repeats his words.

She would moan Matty's name if she could but she can't so she just grasps ross' bare thigh, nails pressing crescents into the skin.

"Let go love" Ross says, Matty hooking an arm around her front to reach her clit, he massages it harshly, making her cum hard around him, clenching around him and milking him for all his worth.

Her eyes meet Ross' through her lashes and she pleads with the man, silently asking him to cum.

"Oh fuck, shit you're going to make me cum" Ross says, Matty continues to fuck into her through their highs, only stopping when Ross stills in her mouth, hot ropes of cum coating her tongue.

He removed himself from her mouth, and groaned as he watched her swallow.

"Fuck you're so perfect" Ross says.

"Fucking amazing" Matty says next, making the woman blush as Matty leaves her core, making her feel empty for a few moments.

Ross crashes down to the sofa, pulling her into his lap now as his arm wraps around Matty's shoulders.

He adjusts her so she's hooked over his thighs, legs splayed out across the sofa. Ross tugs Matty until his head is resting on his shoulder, her hand finding his as the other rests against Ross' chest, right above his heart.

"Thank you for sharing" Matty says, his voice quiet, directed at Ross.

"Anytime mate, we're lucky to have you, you know that" Ross says to him before his eyes land on hers, pressing soft kisses to her lips.

"And thank you for letting us share" Matty then says to her and she simply smiles at her.

"Yeah thank you love. Didn't ask too much of you did we?" Ross says, always one to worry he pushed her too far.

"Never… I love you Ross' she says and he smiles as he connects their mouths again.

"I love you too love"

"And we love you Matty" she says, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his mouth.

"We do." Ross confirms.

The situation was unhinged, but fundamentally, it worked. It worked for all three of them and they weren't going to stop any time soon.

[happypolicecherry]

Alhaitham x reader. Read to find out

I'm not sure where this whole story was going but I tried my best to wrap things up nicely. I do apologise for any grammatical error or bad narration that makes anyone experience displeasure with my writing.

Writing has never been my area of expertise but I am trying my best with everything I have tried to write.

in the middle of the night and you are trying to convince Alhaitham to let you join a dangerous mission newer scholars has to participate in order to gain experience.

"As I've said before, no." Alhaitham stood firm in front of you, Arm crossed across his chest. His unwavering confidence nips at your patience the longer you spend trying to force your reasoning into his thick head as to why you must personally attend to the commission the Akademiya had tasked to the newer scholar in your team.

"Alhaitham, listen. I know that other senior scholars have way too much free time on their hands and that they should be the ones to watch over newer ones but I am also capable-" He sighs, eyes closing. Alhaitham begins to walk away from you, tinkering with books and the historic decor he has. With the sudden movement he made, you find yourself pacing after him like a child.

Or to be more accurate, like a young scholar chasing after her mentor, listening to his speeches while he stacks book after book onto her. God, what a nightmare. A sense of Deja Vu that makes the hair on your skin crawls. And it did.

"Why can't you just listen? It'd make a good opportunity for me too. I get to practice my knowledge in the real world instead of in some old boring office." Frustration grew inside of you. You already knew Alhaitham wouldn't willingly agree to something that could potentially risk your life but the fact that he flatly refuse your idea as if it doesn't worth being pondered over? unbelievable.

"I am listening. Although applying your knowledge in the outside world is far more preferred for many scholars as it does help with developing your skills faster,"

"Then I can go?!" You beamed. Accidentally cutting him off. You truly believe you had finally succeeded in convincing him.

"... I'm not finished. It doesn't mean you have to put yourself on the bridge between life and death. So my answer's still the same." He continued. As soon as he finished your expression slowly turn glum.

Just before you could feel the rejection setting in for the second time, a bright idea popped into your head. ".. why don't you follow me then?"

"I told you, I can't. As the acting grand sage I have multiples matters to attend to at the Akademiya. If I had known you'd insist as volunteering for the mission, I wouldn't have granted it approval in the first place." Alhaitham raises his hand.

Doing his usual gesture where he's staring right into your eyes and swing one hand out while the other stay crossed across his chest. It took every ounce of willpower in you to not roll your eyes over how annoying he looks with his as-matter-of-factly expression.

"If the mission is so dangerous why are you leaving it in the hands of the newer schoolars.." You mumbled your words but it proves that nothing goes unnoticed to Alhaitham especially when it's you he's facing.

"Because I like to see the world burn." his nonchalant-ness had you worried. You slowly backs away from him, opting to drop the topic. Maybe you had been too pushy with him earlier. ".. don't..?" until now you've never understood why people always complains over how hard it is to tell whether Alhaitham is being serious or not.

Over the time you've spent with him, he had always been somewhat of an easy-to-read man. Straightforward and honest to you. Oh but now? now you're sweating because his comment relating to arsonist paired with his serious expression makes you wonder if you should prepare for the day when an unknown fire broke out somewhere in the Akademiya thus burning the entirety of Sumeru city down.

Maybe you'd find your boyfriend standing on top of it all with an unhinged smile and maniac laughter coming from him screaming burn burn burn!

But ofcourse, all your fantasies were interrupted by the very same man. "I'm joking, Y/n." your expression must've told him everything you were thinking about seeing how he's quick to admit he wasn't serious.

"so then.. can I go?" you repeat your question. Continuously asking him until you finally get him to say yes. Alhaitham sighs in pure defeat. It's starting to look like you are not the only frustrated one here.

"Y/n.. Let's just sleep for now." he grabs your forearm gently, pulling you to your shared bedroom after having had enough of your persistent attempt on changing his mind regarding the matter that was so important to you. He still doesn't see the importance of you joining them if you can just stay at the Akademiya and learn with him instead.

But eventually, he'll give it some thought and try to view things from the eyes of a scholar and not the eyes of an overprotective lover. Just keep pestering him so he won't think you've given up the idea of going.

[s-brant]

Super 8

When the hit gets moved up to the end of the week, Harry and Y/N have little time left to sort out their issues. With the added pressure of the time constraint and the possibility of death on the horizon, their relationship becomes more serious than either of them expected. (or hitman!h part seven)

21k (18+)

Warnings: smut, oral sex (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, role-playing, daddy kink, strong language, referenced torture, referenced violence/murder/threats of murder, referenced drink-spiking, referenced past self harm, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder.

-

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Y/N immediately turns to the side in hopes that her wig, as well as her dripping makeup, will conceal her identity from Zayn as he interrogates Harry for his presence here. The rain beats down on them hard enough for every drop to hurt where it meets her skin, and she can feel the synthetic hair of her wig starting to stick to the sides of her face, drenched from it. Thankfully, the coat they stole from the club keeps her shielded from the full brunt of the cold that threatens to freeze her.

He's having none of it, though, he marches right up to them and holds out his hand in her direction, saying, "You think I don't recognize her? We've been working together for almost two months, Harry, I'm not stupid!" He doesn't dare put his hand on the gun they both know is stowed away in the waistband of his jeans, but he does speak to him with an ire few people ever get away with. "Don't make me ask again. What the fuck are you two doing here?"

She's already reaching to hold Harry back by his arm, both of her hands wrapping around the forearm reaching for the gun on his hip, but he shakes her off. Before her or Zayn can react, he has the gun pulled out of its holster and aimed point-blank at the center of his friend's head.

Zayn's shrieking voice overpowers the sound of the rain pummeling the pavement, "What the fuck—"

"Get in the car," Harry says. He doesn't yell or put his hand on the trigger. Everything that leaves his mouth is calm and collected, which scares Zayn more than it would if he were loud or emotional about it. He doesn't say anything else except, "I'll tell you why we're here, just get in the car."

As if she'll do anything to stop him, Zayn looks over at her in a silent plea for help, but all she does is cross her arms over her chest and tilt her head toward the car. The hand he shoved the keys into grapples with them for a second before the sound of the car unlocking indicates she found the right button on the remote.

She says, "You heard him."

With a gun pointed at his head by a man he knows has no qualms about firing it, he sees no other choice but to comply. He mutters, "Fucking unbelievable," under his breath and turns to open the passenger's side door only to be interrupted by Harry making a "tsk" sound with his mouth. The gun still being aimed at his head is gestured to the backseat.

"The lady gets shotgun, you get the backseat."

What he doesn't have to tell her is that not only does he reserve the front seat for her out of respect, but he also does it in order to keep him from being able to jump out of the backseat while they're en route to wherever it is he plans on taking them. It's hard for her to refrain from smiling at him, from walking over and planting a kiss on his cheek for being so quick-witted. If Zayn sits in the back, he can keep him there with the child lock settings on the doors.

They both wait until he's locked in to get inside the car themselves, but, when they do, they remain utterly silent. They don't give him anything to go off of without being in a place far away from the lounge Leo and Ryan are currently at.

As the car's engine turns over and Harry pulls out of the parking spot, Zayn finally caves and speaks up.

"I'm his escort there tonight. If he comes back and sees I'm not there, he'll lose his shit."

She asks, "Well, what time did he say he'd be finished?"

There's a long pause following this that she takes as a promising sign. In the rearview mirror, the couple watches him and allows him to stew in the uncomfortable silence until he can't stand it any longer.

He sighs.

"One."

It couldn't be much later than it was when she checked the digital clock in the dressing room twenty-ish minutes ago, but she checks anyway to confirm they have a large enough time window to pull off the plan he likely concocting at this very moment. That gives them two and a half hours.

Without looking away from the road, Harry sets his gun down on her lap and says, "We have plenty of time.

-

Joe's Diner is, quite possibly, Y/N's favorite restaurant in the world.

Its food isn't anything special, nor are the milkshakes, lazy wait staff, and bathrooms that appear to have not been cleaned thoroughly since the early 2000s, but what makes it her favorite place are the memories attached to it. She first came here with her family, as a young girl, when they were visiting the city for Mardi Gras. Her dad thought it was a charming little place to stop by for lunch and, seeing that she and Peter, who'd been a mere nine years old at the time, were tugging on their parents' pant legs and moaning about how starving they were, it was the closest option.

Then, after her dad's funeral, while their mom was locked in her room crying herself to sleep, Peter drove her and Alanis down here for dinner and promised them he'd take their minds off of what happened for the rest of the night. They walked all around the French Quarter together after, and they weren't happy but they were okay. For the few hours they spent here, walking in a line and swinging their interlaced hands between them to the sound of jazz musicians playing their instruments on the street, the world felt less heavy.

Once her family dwindled down to her and Alanis after everything with her mom, Peter, and having to sell the house to afford to move to the city where she could find work fixing up cars, they'd go as many times as they could afford to. It seems fitting, she thinks, that this is the place he would take them for the conversation they have to have with Zayn

Harry sits on the same side of the booth as her, one hand resting on her thigh beneath the table where no one else can see, and Zayn sits opposite to them with a strange mixture of fear and aggression shown on his face. The waitress took their food orders seconds ago and, as she walks off, he stares at them.

"So?" he asks.

She shrugs and turns her gaze to Harry expectantly.

All he does is lean back against the booth seat and reach for the coffee pot the kind lady tending to them placed on the table. He told her they'd need quite a few cups, so she took it upon herself to leave the pot behind with them. It's not like there are any other customers in here right now. Y/N may not be fond of coffee herself, but between the two men accompanying her, she has no doubt they'll do some damage to it. It spills over the lip of the cup and forms a ring around the bottom of it when he pours it, but he doesn't make any move to clean it for now.

Unlike her, it's difficult for Zayn to read him behind the front he puts on to conceal the truth. He tries to gather something, anything, from the way Harry stares as he fills his cup with the steaming liquid, but he reveals nothing. She knows that it'll remain that way until he gives them proof that they can take him at his word and trust that he won't go running off to Leo the second they part ways. That is if they part ways.

Zayn may be his coworker and a loyal companion over the past decade, but if it comes down to it, he chooses her. Every single time, in every universe, he chooses her. He's gone through too much by her side and done too many things in the name of his worship for her to stop here. That's not to say he wouldn't mourn the loss of his closest coworker, he would, but he could make himself do it if he had to. If it was what it took to protect what's his.

"Perez is an FBI agent," Harry says quietly. "Tate drugged Y/N on his orders to provoke me and allow him to send a few of his men after Leo. He knew I'd get sent after the ones that lived, and when we went on that hit, he captured us. If m'gonna tell you the rest, I need you to prove to me that y'aren't gonna take this back to him."

There is no visible reaction to the news on his face. At first, she doesn't know whether or not he heard what he said with how blank his face has gone. If someone told her that without her having any prior knowledge, her eyes would pop out of her skull in shock. Actually, she's pretty sure she did react that way that night they met Garrett. Either he already knows about it or he doesn't believe a word Harry's saying. She's willing to bet all of the money she's earned in the time since she started working for Leo that it's the latter.

Then, he laughs.

He lets out a howling laugh and buries his face in his hands, shaking his head while they watch in anticipation of what he'll have to say next. Whether it'll be "Go fuck yourself" or "Are you stupid?", Harry isn't sure, but he's hoping it's neither. He's hoping to God that it's some form of compliance so he doesn't have to hurt someone he considers a friend for the sake of protecting everything they've done to get their freedom.

Zayn lets hands fall from his face and shifts in his place, reaching back to rest one arm on the back of the seat as he looks between the two of them in assessment.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

Neither of them laughs or smiles to indicate that being the truth. They simply stare back at him with the seriousness of the situation shown on their faces, silently praying that he won't do anything stupid in reaction to what they've told him as well as what they might go on to tell him. They can't blame him for thinking it's a joke, though. She probably would've thought it a joke too if she hadn't been told while she was restrained to a chair with a group of terrifying men surrounding her and threatening them with jail should they not comply.

Harry's head hangs lower than usual as he shakes his head.

"How am I supposed to prove it to you that I won't tell anyone? How does that even work?" he asks.

This time, it's Y/N who takes the lead in the conversation.

"You tell us something worthwhile. Something equally as dangerous that Leo can't know about," she says. "Trust us and we'll trust you."

It's a risky proposition to be sure, but it's not like they have any other choice. How else would he prove his loyalty to them? Without him having to talk to her about it, she knows that Harry is almost one-hundred percent sure Zayn won't run off and tell Leo about anything they discuss here, but there is no room for "almost" here. Not anymore.

Zayn's mouth opens and closes for a second before he keeps it shut while contemplating what to offer them. A muscle in his jaw clenches as he thinks it over in his mind, staring off at the table and tapping his fingers against it in thought. The lights from passing cars on the street flash over his face in whites and reds that either illuminate or darken his expression. It makes him harder to read.

After taking in a deep breath, he says, refusing to look anywhere but into Harry's eyes, "Alanis and I are together. We have been for a few weeks."

Beneath the table, the hand Harry has resting on her thigh instantly jerks in the direction of her hand to grab on and give it a firm squeeze. An order to stand down for the time being and postpone her freak-out for another time. He can see her expression transforming into one of outrage in his periphery, and he thinks based on that look alone that it might take all of his strength to hold her back from leaping over the table at their friend.

"Y/N..." he says softly in warning, but there is no stopping her.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she asks. Her lips curl up from her teeth in a snarl as she rips her hand out of Harry's grasp. "I told you to stay away. You know how important she is to me, you know how dangerous it is for Leo to know who we care about, so why would you do that? How could you?"

Seeing her eyes turning watery with tears sets off an alarm in the back of Harry's mind that urges him to do something, anything he can, to fix it. Of course, there isn't anything he can do short of joining her in berating him or beating the shit out of him, but neither are advisable courses of action. Not to mention, he isn't too keen on hurting one of his friends. Although he's the reason for her tears, he can't do anything except over her comfort.

He reaches back for her hand and, this time, doesn't squeeze it tightly to tell her to calm down. Instead, he rips his glove off without thinking and entwines their fingers to convey a different message than the first. The feeling of his scarred flesh beneath her fingertips causes her to go still, her mind blanking on all the things she imagined saying or doing to Zayn in retribution for him breaking his word.

The discomfort felt deep in his chest isn't lost on him, but none of it matters as much as providing her the comfort she needs at a time like this. Suddenly, it's tolerable when it's done for her sake. The memories of when Leo, along with five other men to hold him down, held his hand in the flames crackling in his fireplace do not take over the way they once would have.

"Oh, cut the shit," he says, and Harry shoots him a stare that seems to say, "Watch it," without having to speak it aloud, "I'm serious. Everyone else may be too stupid to see it, but I know you guys are together. What's the difference between you two and me and Alanis?"

She leans closer over their side of the table.

"The difference is that she's all I have left of my family. I already work with Leo, she doesn't, that's the difference."

"Leo already knows about her. As long as we keep it quiet, nothing changes," he says.

Deciding it's gone too far, or, rather, it will go too far should he not intervene, Harry holds a hand up to stop the two of them from ripping each other's heads off.

"Alright, enough." He gives Zayn a pointed look. "Y'did what she asked." His gaze then turns to find Y/N sitting beside him, their bare hands held together on her lap. "And we can talk about this later, but there's bigger shit to worry about right now. M'serious, Zayn, if you tell anyone..."

The weight of what they're soon to tell Zayn comes crashing down on her all at once now that Harry has started to prep him for it. Nothing he's assuming in his head could measure up to the truth. Every table around them is empty, and the wait staff are either on the phones behind the counter or on an extended cigarette break, so he doesn't waste much time. No need to torture him with the wait.

He looks over his shoulder to check if anyone is paying attention to them, then says it.

"Perez has us working for him to off Leo's brother. He's the director of the FBI. That's why Leo gets away with everything. That's why so many of the cops are paid off and do his dirty work, and, if we manage to get rid of Ryan, they can lock Leo up for the rest of his life or let me have him," he explains. "Once that's done, we can get out."

Before he can fully wrap his head around the information, Zayn asks, "When?"

She shrugs.

"It's planned for one of the days between Christmas and New Year's but depending on what Leo or Ryan know, it could be sooner. All we know is the timeframe at this point."

Before he can respond, the waitress comes back with her arms full of plates.

It's hard for her to remain seated here for the rest of their meal without bringing up Alanis or picking a fight with Zayn, but she tries. She instead focuses on the feeling of Harry holding her hand with his burnt one and allows it to distract her from the rage begging to release from inside of her. Well, that and the stack of blueberry pancakes she ordered. Not that Harry ever knew, but she grew to enjoy them after spending countless mornings eating what he made for her. The blueberry was a surprise addition, however. She shocked herself by actually enjoying it when she cut them up and ate them without the usual lake of maple syrup poured over them.

It's the most awkward forty minutes of their lives.

Harry keeps eyeing her up in his peripheral vision to make sure she won't sucker punch Zayn from across the table or start another argument, Zayn doesn't look up from his plate of waffles, and Y/N devours all of her pancakes with the thought of beating him to a bloody pulp on the mind.

Just after the waitress drops off the check, Zayn's phone rings.

The second he picks it up and reads the contact name, she knows who it is based on his face alone, yet he still dares to answer it in front of her. How she hasn't bitch slapped him yet, she isn't sure, but she's pretty damn close to snapping and allowing herself to do it.

"Hey," he says the word as though he fears it.

Through the speakers, she can faintly pick up on the familiar pattern of Alanis' voice from across the table. The hand Harry holds squeezes so tightly, he fears she may cut off the circulation to his fingers.

He stands from the booth in response to whatever she says, nodding his head and muttering that he can come over. When he drops two fifty dollar bills onto the table and tries to walk off without even sparing them a word, she lurches from the booth seat after him, wrenching her hand from Harry's grip to allow her to catch up to him. The sound of her heels clicking on the tiled floor echoes in the empty room, and she's just about to reach him when she feels a pair of hands grabbing her from behind by her shoulders.

"No."

She jerks forward against the strength of the arms restraining her to no avail.

"Let me go after him!"

But he doesn't budge. He holds on tighter and keeps her locked in his embrace until the headlights of Zayn's car shine through the windows. Since he has the keys, not her, it won't end in a chase that's designed for him to lose. By the time he lets go and allows her to rush out through the front doors to the diner, Zayn's sports car is already flying down the street in the direction of the apartment building a few blocks away.

The rain soaks her damp wig again and leaves her to shiver in the long coat wrapped around her naked frame as she watches the car disappear in the foggy night. Behind her, she can hear the door opening and closing, and she doesn't have to guess who it is before whipping around to face Harry with the promise of fury evident in her eyes.

"Why didn't you let me go?"

Her voice is a shrill yell over the sound of the rain pounding the pavement and cars speeding by, sending puddles of water washing over the sidewalk in waves. His arms are crossed over his chest, his back against the wall of the building, and he doesn't give into her demanding tone by reacting how she wants him to. Those fluffy waves are flattened to the shape of his head as he stares her down as if to ask, "Why would I?"

He sighs, taking a few steps closer to her, and murmurs, "C'mere," with his arms extended in invitation.

"Yeah, no," she says with a scoff, "Fuck this. Give me the keys."

"Not gonna happen, sweetheart."

"He's fucking my best friend! It was the one thing I asked him not to do, and he went behind my back to do it! She has no business being involved in any of this! If Leo finds out, it won't be good, you know that! You fucking know that, so give me the keys!"

She holds her hand out with her palm facing up with the expectation of him bending to her will, but she's in for a rude awakening if she thinks she can order him around. He steps into her space and tilts his head down to speak to her, forcing her to see the seriousness of his words.

"Let them be," he says with a sharp edge to his voice. "Y'can't control who she dates, and you were being stupid telling Zayn to stay away."

Her brows furrow.

"Excuse me?"

"What did y'think was gonna happen? When y'tell someone not to do something, it's the first thing they're gonna do. He was probably not even serious about asking her out until you made her off-limits. That's how guys like us are."

All of that pent-up anger felt for Zayn is now aimed at him as they face off with each other in the vacant parking lot of the diner. Neither of them backs down, as expected whenever the two of them start fighting. To his outrage, she actually has the audacity to laugh in his face. Her hands come up to wipe the soaked bangs out of her eyes, and she shakes her head.

"What does that even mean? Guys like you?" Every word is laced with enough aggression to strike him down where he stands. "What? Is that what happened with me? I was off-limits and you decided that was what made me interesting?"

He doesn't know what to go with other than the truth.

"I mean, yeah. I assumed y'had a boyfriend when I saw Peter's picture in your apartment, and Leo told me not to fuck you the day after he hired you. He didn't want me to complicate things, and I always took any chance I could to get back at him, so I did."

And, with that, she thinks her heart cracks open. He may not realize what he said, but, fuck, it makes her chest ache from the cruelty of it. She knew she didn't mean anything to him at the beginning of whatever they have together, but being reduced to nothing more than a pawn to get back at his boss hits her right where it hurts after weeks of being treated like she matters. Like she was more than just a quick fuck that he decided he didn't mind befriending for the sheer convenience of it all.

She asks, bottom lip trembling, "What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought"—Tears roll down her cheeks as she stumbles a step away from him—"I know you hate talking about how you feel, but, even then, I thought a small part of you cared. At least a little bit."

Was it all in her head? Did she make up every sweet moment and gesture, every time he let the mask slip a little, because she wanted them to be true? By the time he first saw her apartment, she thought he was starting to befriend and trust her, but, apparently, it was an act he put on to get into her pants. She wants to hate him for it. She wants to loathe him forever for starting their partnership on something as vile as using her for revenge against Leo, but the only person she loathes is herself. For wanting it. For viewing him through rose-tinted glasses and being so lonely, she led him by the hand right into her heart.

Harry follows her to where she has retreated off the curb of the walkway and says, his face flushed, "I don't know when y'started with this delusion of me being a good guy, but I'm not. I fucking kill people for a living! I treated you like shit when we first met and got off on thinking y'cheated on your boyfriend with me! I'm a bad person, Y/N, you should know who you're dating!"

Everything stops. The thoughts racing through her mind, the words that were on the tip of her tongue, her anger—everything. It takes a few seconds for him to even register why her entire face shifted from a look of fury to shock, but once he does, his face softens too.

She says softly, "Harry..."

Just like that, the wall between them comes back down, and he rushes past her in the direction of the Escalade parked in one of the front spots. His steps splash water up on his pant legs, but he doesn't pay it any mind in the face of what he thinks was a grave mistake he made. The quiet cries escaping her grow louder as she watches him walk away from her. No sign of the sweet, caring man from minutes ago who held her hand without his glove to protect him.

"Get in the car. We're going home."

-

Y/N spent the rest of the night crying herself to sleep.

Curled up in sheets and pillows that smelled of him, she sobbed hard enough to give herself a throbbing headache that she was forced to sleep off rather than risk going out into the kitchen to take a pain reliever. She hoped that once they got in the apartment, he might be willing to talk about any of what happened tonight, but he didn't. He locked himself in his office room the second he got the door open and left her with no company but her own. She wandered around the living room and kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water and half-heartedly watching the next episode of the show they were watching, before retiring to the bedroom for the night.

She hadn't bothered to shut the blinds covering the floor-to-ceiling windows when she passed out without even washing off her smeared makeup, so the sunlight is what wakes her. The wig she ripped off of her head sits where it was thrown on the bottom of the bed, and she groans at the lingering ache felt in the front of her head from last night's hysterics as she pokes her head up to see it.

Her hand slaps over her face as she mutters, "Fuck," under her breath.

Last night.

What he said hurt her, yes, but she can't deny that she'd been quick to escalate things in the wake of what she learned about Zayn and Alanis. Not to mention, it's harder to be angry about his intentions at the beginning of their relationship after what he said at the end of their conversation.

You should know who you're dating.

Is that what he sees their relationship as? This whole time, she never thought it more than a matter of convenience on his part. It made sense to her, but, now, she can't seem to wrap her head around it. If they weren't just fuck buddies who happened to be friends, what were they? How long have they been dating? It's not as if he asked her officially or took her on any dates to imply that's what they were to each other.

She tosses the sheet off of her and sits up on the side of the bed with a heavy sigh. There's no point in drawing out the torture, is there? She should simply stroll out there and act like everything is normal, not giving him the chance to continue last night's argument or act with cruelty toward her for the sake of pushing her away again. It's her apartment now too, she shouldn't have to hide in the bedroom like a scared little kid. He doesn't scare her.

Although she hadn't washed her makeup off, she did peel off the nipple stickers and change into one of his shirts for bed, only wearing a comfortable pair of leggings underneath. As she walks out into the living room, she's thankful to at least be covered by that when seeing him again for the first time since last night.

At first, she doesn't spot him in the kitchen. Her gaze goes straight to the couch to find him where he usually lounges, either watching something in the morning or scrolling through stuff on his phone, but he isn't there. It isn't until she searches around the room a second time and turns to head into the kitchen to start making herself breakfast that she sees him.

If the sight of him alone didn't concern her, she might have fought a smile at the fact that he still made her pancakes despite the small rift put between them yesterday. But, the way he's hunched over the kitchen counter with his head hung low between his shoulders prevents her from feeling anything but worry, even after what he admitted to her last night.

"Harry?"

Her voice is timid when she asks it, approaching slowly as one would when walking up to a wounded animal.

Throughout most things, he keeps his cool. He forces himself to maintain an appearance of a calm, collected man who doesn't let anything get under his skin, but the way he looks right now...It must be something bad, so bad that he can't be bothered to care about whatever trivial relationship issues they have going on.

She stops a few feet behind him and asks, "What's wrong?"

Her heart almost stops when she hears him speak next.

"The hit was moved up to Saturday."

Saturday? Today is Thursday. It's the first of December, what happened to it being planned for after Christmas? That's two days away. Only two days of time to mentally prepare herself for either the end of her life or picking up and moving to a new country, always on the run for what they've done. Thank God she already knows how to ride a motorcycle and was taught to shoot by Harry last week. If not, they'd have to cram everything into the next forty-eight hours.

She walks the rest of the way up to him and leans against the counter, tilting her head to the side to make him look at her.

"I don't understand. Why would they do that?"

He shrugs, feigning indifference despite the obvious tears in his eyes. She has never seen him this distraught over having to complete a job in the entirety of their time working together, and it stuns her to silence as she watches him.

"Ryan suspects there's a rat in his team and warned Leo. He asked him for additional protection because he doesn't feel safe, so Garrett is moving it up. Says we have to act fast if we want to make it out alive," he explains, his voice dull and monotonous.

Two days.

That's potentially all they have left together before everything changes. All of that rage she felt last night is scattered to the wind now that she realizes how temporary it all is. Any second of any day, it could all end, and she feels foolish for wasting any time being mad at Alanis, Zayn, or Harry. He wasn't right in whatever cruelty he showed her last night, but she wasn't right either. It hurts to be lied to, but she has no right to dictate who anyone does or doesn't love.

The thought of it makes her chest muscles tighten up, constricting her ability to breathe, and she can feel a lump forming in the back of her throat that she cannot manage to swallow. It sends her stepping back away from him. Her eyes flood with tears as she shakes her head in response to the chaos of her own thoughts and feels the safety of the world she created with him come crashing down around her.

"I"—she stammers—"I need to go. I need to talk to Alanis. I'm sorry."

She gives him no opportunity to stop her, rushing herself off toward the front door and swiping the keys to one of his lesser used cars off the small rack mounted to the wall before disappearing from view.

Everything is a blur.

In all honesty, she shouldn't be driving in such an emotional state but getting to Alanis is all she can think of as she speeds from street to street away from his apartment building in pursuit of hers. Cars honk their horns at her for how she weaves in and out of traffic and nearly rear-ends multiple people, but, at this point, why should she care? She and Harry might be dead within days anyway, so what's to fear about a car accident? Or getting pulled over for a speeding ticket?

No one pulls her over by the time she screeches to a halt in the parking lot of Alanis' apartment building, though. Not even passing pedestrians turn their heads to observe her as she slams the door to the Mercedes shut and sprints around the side of the building to the locked front doors, frantically digging through her purse for the key Alanis had made for her when she first moved in. Her trembling hands make turning the key in the lock nearly impossible, but once she manages to do it, she is flinging it open into the sidewalk and running as fast as she can up flight after flight of stairs.

The elevator would take too long. She needs to see her now, she needs to say everything she hasn't yet and pray it's enough should she never come back into her life again. This time, Harry isn't here to help her up whenever she trips or stumbles due to the tears blurring her vision, and it takes her longer than she wishes to reach the second to last floor of the fifteen-floor building.

She slumps against the door to her apartment and pounds on it with a closed fist, calling out her friend's name.

"Alanis!"

Her voice breaks when she speaks again.

"Please, open the door! I need you," she cries, "I'm really scared and I just need to be with you right now. Please..."

The silence that follows is louder than anything she has ever heard. Not even her neighbors move around or crack open their doors to see which crazy woman is making a scene at eight in the morning on a random Thursday. There are no footsteps behind the locked door, nor are there any voices speaking to indicate that Zayn came back after escorting Leo back home last night to sleep over. Anyone who walks by would likely take pity on her. What a sorry sight she is, sliding down to her knees in front of the door with tears wetting her face and further smudging the makeup leftover from last night.

She sits here for five whole minutes, pressing her forehead against the wall and sobbing so hard, she's shocked she hasn't woken up everyone residing on the floor nearby, before she finally hears the sound of a door opening and shutting inside the apartment. The sound of her friend's footsteps coming down the hall leading to the door might as well be a choir of angels singing to her, all crescendoing in unison until they are snuffed out like the light of a candle with the door swinging open.

"Y/N?"

Hearing her voice breathes life back into her weary body and lifts her head from its place against the wall to see Alanis standing there with concern written across her pretty face. Harry is the one who makes her feel the safest, and that will never change, but Alanis has always been the one person in the world who has never turned her away. Not even when they've fought has she denied her a place to stay if she needed it, or a chance to be heard or given a second chance should she have done anything to warrant it. The reason she came here is that she knew, no matter what, that she would never ice her out.

She sniffles and asks, "Can I come in?"

The question isn't even dignified with a verbal response. She's already crouching down to help Y/N up from her spot on the ground and guiding her past the open door by the tail end of the question.

Once the door is kicked shut, Alanis stops her and cups her face between her hands.

"What happened, babe?"

This only makes her sob louder and harder, crumbling in her arms and bearing most of her weight against the front of her body. She buries her face in the crook of her neck, unable to say it directly to her face.

"Everything is so fucked. Harry and I have to do something really, really risky in a few days that I can't even tell you about or else you might get killed, and he's been ignoring me all night because, apparently, we're dating and he doesn't know how to feel about it! I feel like"—she takes a gasping breath and clings onto her waist as if she'll disappear whenever she lets go—"I feel like I might die if I don't talk about it, and I can't even do it with him because he's probably still pissed at me after our argument last night! I just miss the way everything used to be! I miss my parents, I miss Peter, I just want my old life back!"

Alanis doesn't do anything other than wrap her up in her arms and whisper soothing words. At this point, none of this can surprise her. Dating Zayn and being exposed to this life through both him and Y/N has left her with little room to be taken aback by anything anymore. So, rather than reacting with the type of shock that most people would, she just holds her there in her arms and strokes the back of her head as she whispers to her.

After her breathing has started to slow, Alanis says softly, "I know, Zayn told me about everything last night..."

This pauses every thought whirling in Y/N's head, and she pulls back from her cherished spot in the crook of her friend's neck to look at her through narrowed eyes. That lost anger washes back over her.

"Why? We told him he can't say anything—"

"No, no, it's not like that. You can trust him to keep your secrets," she says, then sighs. "He only told me because he wants me to leave the country before it happens. He said that if it goes wrong and Leo comes after me because of either of you, he wants me to be as far away as possible."

Y/N cannot lie and say that doesn't do wonders to dissolve whatever anger just came rushing over her again. It shifts something in her mind, altering the part of her that took to heart what Harry said last night about "guys like us" and setting it straight. It hits her like a bolt of lightning.

"Oh my god...he loves you," Y/N mutters, not even aware that she's saying it out loud and not in her head.

To this, Alanis chuckles, raising one hand to wipe at the tears that have sprung to her eyes at the sight of her friend being in a state of severe distress.

"You're one to talk. Zayn said he's never seen Harry treat anyone the way he treats you." Her voice then switches to one of gentle teasing, "He's in looooove."

This gets Y/N to break her fifteen-minute streak of sobbing to laugh along with her. Once again, she's left wondering how Alanis always manages to do this. To take her worst moments and turn them into something golden, something precious. It happened countless times after her family passed too. There's an innate talent inside of her for it, and, when she thinks about this, she realizes that her brother and Zayn were lucky to have her in whatever way they could. No wonder every person who spots her falls face-first into the pavement in love with her. It's rare that anyone with her degree of outer beauty has an inner beauty that outruns it by such a landslide.

Y/N says, "For what it's worth, I agree with him, and I'm glad he cares enough about you to help you escape before shit gets bad. It's what Peter would've done, and I was coming here to ask you to do the same exact thing too." She sniffles. "Well, that and to help me figure out how the fuck I'm supposed to talk to Harry about our relationship when I go back home"

Her friend cocks a brow at her.

"Home?" she asks. "As in his home? Okay, that's it, you're staying here and telling me everything now that you've decided to stop being a liar!"

That's all it takes for Alanis to drag her off in the direction of the living room with the sound of their giggles echoing off the walls of the small hallway in their wake.

-

The next ten hours of the day at Alanis' soon-to-be abandoned apartment were a blissful reprieve from the reality of her future. They decided not to talk about what was planned to happen on Saturday, instead opting to gossip about their men and have one last movie night before they're to part ways for a little while. In her heart, Y/N knew that everything would end up alright. She and Harry would do what they were ordered to and find her in whatever far-off country Zayn told her to flee to, but the small part of her that remained uncertain needed to stay with her for as long as she could.

Just in case it was the final time.

It wasn't Y/N who decided when it was time to leave, though, it was Alanis. Having a best friend who understands you to your very core is a double-edged sword, in her opinion, because while it makes for wonderful days like the one they spent together, it also means that they can spot the true intentions of your heart from miles away.

She could tell that Y/N was lingering long after the last movie ended not because she wanted to stay the night but because she was afraid of what might happen when she went back home. Not in a way that meant she was concerned for her safety—as Harry once said, he would never—but in a way that meant she was concerned for the outcome of the conversation they were due to have.

But, according to Alanis' take on it, there wasn't much to worry about.

"Babe, if you think he isn't in love with you, you're stupid, okay? If you forgive him for what he did, then tell him that. If you don't, then say that. Men aren't that complicated. I know he seems like he is, but I bet he's just scared shitless that you won't feel the same way."

So, she drove back over to their apartment building with that on replay in her mind, hoping against hope that Alanis was somehow right and everything will be okay between her and Harry again the second she walked through the front door.

The front door sits in front of her for a long moment before she can summon the strength to unlock it. She stands there for a long time, imagining all the different ways this could go wrong and end in her never getting to have him in the way she has for the past month or so, and tries to keep herself from getting worked up over it before they even have a conversation. For all she knows, Alanis could've been right. What if, just this once, something goes her way? She has lost everything—her brother, her parents, her autonomy, her potential in life—but the one thing she couldn't survive losing is him.

If she didn't push through all of the hardship for a reason, if it wasn't for him, for something at least, then she won't know what to do with herself. When Alanis leaves New Orleans and gets shipped off to whatever country of her choosing, Harry is the one person she will have left in this world. What happens if he casts her aside because he can't handle the pressure of meaning that much to her? The question she didn't dare present to Alanis when she said he probably feared her rejection was: What if what he's afraid of is her loving him back?

In the end, she opens the door like she would rip off a bandaid. The last thing she expected to see when rushing through the front door, however, is this.

Harry spins around, on defense immediately with a pair of Christmas tree ornaments raised as make-shift weapons before he sees who it is and visibly relaxes for a second, then halts as though he remembers the sour note they left off on. In the corner of the living room, a real tree is propped up in a stand and lit up with white string lights. Dozens of ornaments, which she assumes are brand new considering the fact that she has never pegged him for an avid celebrator of Jesus's birthday, already hang from the limbs of fresh pine that extend out from the trunk and sprinkle needles onto the towels he laid out on the hardwood floor.

For a second, they can't do anything but stare at one another across the immeasurable distance that has grown between them in less than a day and, somehow, shrinks into nothing the second he realizes that she came back. Part of him couldn't help but wonder as he paced around the kitchen in the moments following her departure if she was leaving him forever. If last night was the final straw and she was going to ask him if they could fulfill the plan he offered her in her kitchen early last month. For her to flee and leave him as the sacrificial lamb to pay the price for her escape. He decided as he went out to shop for Christmas decorations that he'd do it if she asked. If that was what she wanted, he would do it for her. It would be the least he could do.

He says as means of greeting, "Um, I thought we could do Christmas tonight since we might not get the chance to spend it together after everything coming up."

His lips press together tightly, likely to keep himself from saying more and begging her to have mercy on him after yesterday, and he stares at her with hope swimming laps in his irises. Back at Alanis' apartment, she already knew she forgave him for everything, but, now, nothing could stop her from crawling back into his arms and accepting his apology with as many kisses as she can manage.

Y/N shuts the door behind her, rushing forward across the open space and throwing herself into his arms once she reaches the other side of the room. The ornaments in his hands make it difficult to hold her up, but he manages, and he doesn't have the chance to say or ask anything before she's kissing him. Without thinking, he kisses her back, but not the way he usually does. This kiss is softer, and sweeter, and they both realize around the same time that it's their first real kiss as a couple.

His hands drift up the sides of her body and squeeze her waist, using this as his leverage to tug her as close to him as he can. The second she feels this happen, she smiles into the kiss because she knows. She knows that he isn't pushing her away this time, and she doesn't have to fear losing him, not unless Saturday's plans go awry.

He pulls away earlier than he wishes for the sake of saying, "I got you a present."

This blossoms a warmth in her heart that she never would've guessed she'd feel upon coming home tonight. On the car ride home, she anticipated a disaster of stifled emotions and cruelty aimed to put her at a comfortable distance yet again, but this...This is new. This something strange and beautiful that she has never felt before, and she doesn't know whether or not telling him this would ruin the feeling before she's had the chance to truly enjoy it.

His gloved hand slips into hers to guide her away from the tree and over to the couch where a small, square-shaped box sits on the coffee table in front of it. Neither of them speaks until they're seated side by side, the curve of her hip fitting to his body perfectly as he settles into place with an arm wrapped around her back. The other arm outstretches to reach for the little black gift box she assumes is the present he spoke of seconds ago, and her cheeks ache from how hard she smiles.

"Please, don't tell me it's too much," he murmurs as his only warning before putting the box in her waiting hands. "I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now. This isn't an apology gift, I just"—he stops himself, his lips curving upwards in a shy smile—"I want you to have it. Honestly."

With that being said, she lifts the lid of the box and unwraps the tissue paper concealing the gift from view to find an old key laying at the bottom. But, it isn't just any old key, it's the same key she remembers stealing from him last month and turning in the ignition of the Cobra to drive to the race track. The realization of what he's trying to do hits her with a brutality she never saw coming.

"Harry," she starts, "This is..." Remembering what he just said, she pushes away any suspicions of this being a desperate bid to win her forgiveness and turns her head to find him staring at her, his eyes soft with affection. "Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Positive."

For what feels like the fifth time in the last twenty-four hours, she can sense her eyes welling up with tears, and when she feels his arm tighten around her waist, she falls forward with her face in his shoulder to embrace him. Her tears wet his shirt as she remains there, her arm slung around the back of his neck to force him to stay right there, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything except for the happiness and appreciation he witnessed on her face before she threw herself on him.

When she pulls back, one of his hands is caressing along the edge of her jaw to bring her chin up so their faces are level. Happy tears. He has never been so glad to see her cry in the time they've known one another. Every other time, it was a result of his callous behavior that he loathed himself for causing, but this is something he takes pride in doing to her.

"I know this isn't an apology gift, but I am sorry for what I said last night," he says softly, nudging her nose with his. "I can't lie and say some of it wasn't true, but...I don't feel like that anymore. And it scares me, baby, it really does. M'not used to this. I've never dated anyone before. I don't know how this works."

The room seems to buzz with silence in the gaps of their speech, yet it isn't a silence either of them are needing to fill. If they say anything, they want it to be meaningful, not a useless string of words only said to lessen the tension hanging in the air. But, if she's honest with herself, there isn't any tension. Not anymore. All of it dissolved the second she saw him standing there with tree ornaments in his hands and hope in his eyes.

Her fingers card through his hair to brush it back from his face, taming the unbrushed curls that tickle her forehead the closer she nears to him, and his eyes flutter shut in appreciation of the gesture.

She says softly, but not weakly, "Well, I have, so believe me when I say I'm just as fucking lost as you are. I haven't felt this way about anyone before." Their lips are nearly touching. "But, I want it. Whatever you'll let me have of you, I want it."

Just as he juts his chin out to close the distance between their waiting lips, the feeling of her hand pushing flat against his chest halts him in his tracks.

"Wait."

His brows furrow in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

A smile lights up her face as she disentangles herself from him and stands from the couch with little explanation other than her saying, "I'll be right back," before scurrying off in the direction of the bedroom. He watches her disappear through the open doorway with a swing in her step that he hasn't seen since the night they spent together on the race track and waits eagerly for her return.

When she's out of sight, he finally lets out the sigh he's been holding in since she left early this morning for Alanis. She may not know it, but he spent every second of her absence making himself sick with worry over whether or not she'd forgive him for, well, everything. Yet, now that she's back, he realizes how stupid he was to think she'd leave him, and, for once in his life, he thinks he can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Should everything go well this weekend and Garrett manages to get them to safety with Ryan out of the way, they could have any life they want together. He could work on film sets somewhere across the world while she opens a bakery of her own and spends every day doing something she loves. They could have it all.

Her soft footfalls on the floor are what wakes him from his daydream of a future with her, and when he looks up to see her walking across the room to him, he grins.

"Y'didn't have to get me anything," he says only to be shushed by her.

The couch dips with her added weight sitting back down on the cushion beside him, and he relishes the warmth of her body as it presses against his without an inch of space left for them to cross. Her gift for him is wrapped in a box at least ten times the size of the one he used to give her the keys to the Cobra, and he raises his brows at her when she sets it down on his lap. It has a heavy weight to it.

In answer to his unspoken question, she says, "I—uh—I got it for you soon after you got me the tattoos." A deep breath, then, "I used the money I stole from you in October."

He goes as silent as death, and she takes it as the time she needs to explain herself after dropping the confession on him with little to no warning.

"I didn't do it on purpose, okay? It was a complete accident, and that doesn't make it any better, I know that, but I was afraid of you back then and didn't want you to think I took it to get back at you after you hijacked my car—"

"Hold on," he says, and she complies without protest. There's a pregnant pause, then—"Are y'talking about the money I put in your sweatshirt pocket the night we met?"

She nods. And, for some reason, this amuses him rather than upsets him. Seeing her nod, admitting that she stole from him after months of lying, makes him chuckle, shaking his head at her. One of his hands cups the side of her neck to keep her from hanging her head in shame to avoid meeting eyes with him.

"You silly girl," Harry whispers, "I did that on purpose."

This time, it's her turn to be shocked.

"What?"

This only makes him laugh harder at her, making her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she thinks back on everything that happened that night and realizes that she'd had it wrong. That night, when he interrogated her about why she was dealing drugs in Leo's territory, she told him she was doing it in an act of desperation. To make enough money to pay her rent. And when he shoved her driver's license and insurance papers back into the pocket of her hoodie, he slipped in all of the cash he had on him at the time for her to pay rent with. He knew her rent probably didn't cost six-thousand dollars a month, but it isn't like he had the chance to ask her how much she needed and count it out. He didn't want her to know he did it until she got home. When he assumed they'd never see each other again.

He unties the bow she wrapped around the large box and says, "I was giving you the money for rent. Y'didnt steal anything from me."

While she's too busy reeling from the shock of this news, Harry is ripping open his Christmas gift like a little kid does when sitting under the tree in their pajamas. It's endearing to see him so excited about something she's done for him when he typically has all the emotion of a brick wall in everyday circumstances. Although, she thinks he'd be excited about anything that involves her at this point, and knowing that pleases her more than he will ever know.

Under a blanket of tissue paper, he wraps his gift inside the box to find something he never anticipated getting from her. He mentioned his aspirations to make films once or twice at most and figured she wasn't even paying that close of attention, but she was. The interior of the box is packed with Styrofoam to keep the vintage Super 8 camera she bought him safe from any bumps or falls, and he doesn't know what to say when he sees it.

It's in beautiful condition based on his first glance at it, probably manufactured sometime in the mid-70s if he had to give it a good guess. It must have taken her a day or two to find a good store and cost her a few hundred dollars to get this, as well as the film and tools he needs to operate the old device as though it's brand new.

He looks up from the box to find her there, smiling at him, and doesn't hesitate to lean in to kiss her. It's short, way too short, but he must pull away from the small peck to speak. When he withdraws from her, she follows him with her eyes still closed, thinking he was going to come back to her with a passion that'd make that first kiss seem pitiful by comparison, only to find him watching her again.

When he doesn't say anything, she asks, "What?" and he shakes his head as if to dismiss any of the worries he knows are springing to life in the back of her mind.

"This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has gotten me," he says. That wall that fell into place between them after what he said last night crumbles at this moment, and she can tell that every word he speaks is genuine. "Thank you so much, baby. You totally beat my present for you."

To this, she laughs.

"You literally gifted me my dream car, Harry, which was so thoughtful considering my dad and everything. I'm gonna have to find a hundred vintage cameras to one-up you now!"

"No, absolutely not, I'm the one who spoils you here, not the other way around. M'gonna buy you as many cars as you buy me cameras, so we're gonna need a bigger car park pretty soon."

Y/N's face aches from how hard she's been smiling since she got home as she leans over to rest her head on his shoulder again. Of course, he has no qualms with this change in position and adapts straight away to throw his arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as an additional "Thank you" for the gift.

With her tucked under his arm, he uses his free hand to lift the camera from the box by the monopod and bring the viewfinder to his right eye. He doesn't waste the film she loaded it up with on random footage of the living room, but finally having a camera in his hands touches a place deep in his heart regardless of whether or not its rolling. And it suddenly hits him as he sits here and moves the camera to observe different parts of his living room that this is what he could've had for a decade. Her, a camera, and hope for the future rather than spending every minute wishing he could fall asleep and never wake up again.

"I was thinking since we're about to pick up everything and move to a new place this weekend, you could use a good camera to capture it. I was kind of hoping for New Zealand or Japan if Garrett is really gonna let us go wherever we want. They film a lot of movies in New Zealand, I heard," she says. "What about you?"

He takes a second to think it over, then says, "I'll follow you anywhere. Japan, New Zealand—it's your choice."

The threat of death on the horizon should they fail pushes him to a place of honesty he has never inhabited in her presence yet, but it feels strangely good. Every time he imagined allowing himself to say what he feels with her, he thought it'd feel wrong or terrifying, but it feels right. She feels right, and he couldn't be any happier than he is at this moment. He tries not to think about the fact that they could fail on Saturday, though. For once in his life, he wants to stay alive to experience how it feels to exist in peace with her, and, if he dies weeks after he finally began to enjoy living, he'd have to crawl his way out of hell to take his anger out on those who put him there. And if they killed her too...not even death could prevent him from seeking vengeance.

From where her face is nuzzled in his neck, her voice is partly muffled when she speaks next, but he hears it.

"I was also thinking...maybe the first thing you film could be us."

The thing is, Harry is notorious with her for having a dirty mind, so he doesn't want to assume that the first thing he thinks of is what she meant by that, but, then again, it is Y/N he's dealing with. She is just as filthy-minded, if not more, than he is when you truly get her going, and the way she said it leads him to think his assumption is true. This is the same woman who begged him to fuck her on a motorcycle in public, the same woman who got off on him calling a guy she rejected while they were fucking—she is many things, but she is not pure-minded.

He slowly lowers the camera back into the box and shifts a little in his spot to get a good look at her, knowing that one glance at her face will either confirm or deny his suspicion. And, just as he thought, when he tilts her head up from his shoulder to make her look at him, there's a mischievous smirk on her face.

"What?" she asks. "You really thought you weren't getting any more gifts?"

Soon enough, a smirk to match her own appear on his face.

"Y'wanna make a movie with me, Y/N?"

Before he can lift a finger to touch her or speak another word to order her to strip her clothes off, she jumps up from the couch and runs—actually runs—to the bedroom as if to ask, "Does this answer your question?" And he can't even make fun of her for her eagerness, because as soon as he sees her disappear behind the door, he is getting himself off of the couch with his new camera in hand and running after her. It's been a few days since they last had sex, so it isn't surprising to him in the least that he can feel himself getting hard at the mere suggestion of it. They were so busy doing Leo and Garrett's bidding that they didn't have a spare moment, or the energy, to do anything together, and he hasn't jerked off since they started living together, so...

On the way over, it takes a few fumbling seconds to find out how to turn the camera on and begin rolling, but he figures it out by the time he reaches the bedroom. The first shot he ever films is of her, laying on the bed with her legs curled up into a ball and her top already thrown across the room to reveal the expanse of her bare torso to him. When he zooms in, she waves at the camera with a radiant smile lighting up the frame, then beckons him to her with a plea for him to come to bed.

Harry approaches the edge of the bed slowly and watches her, making sure to move the camera to capture every one of her movements, as she crawls down to meet him at the end of it. When she looks up at the lens of the camera through her lashes, her cheeks turn hot and she averts her eyes. But he doesn't let her do it for any longer than a second. The hand not holding the camera grabs her by the chin and forced her to face it again.

"What?" he asks in a condescending tone that makes her press her thighs together. "Y'getting camera shy on me now, baby? I thought I found my leading lady."

Falling right into the scene he sets with those two sentences, she shakes her head with wide, pleading eyes staring right past the camera at his face. The angle he looks down at paired with her arms crossing over her chest accentuates the swell of her breasts for the camera. A purposeful tactic on her part, he assumes.

"No. No, I wanna be a big star, Mr. Styles. Put me in one of your movies." Her hands lift to settle on the waistband of his jeans, sliding into the middle to play absentmindedly with his belt buckle. "Please?"

One of her hands drifts lower until she can palm his half-hard cock through his pants to elicit a sharp breath from him. He lets her do it for as long as it takes to get him the rest of the way there, looking up at the camera like the good girl she always is—dying to please him at any cost. The hand still working his belt takes forever, but, finally, it comes undone for her after a solid minute of effort and allows her to then move on to the button and zipper of his jeans.

She leans forward off the edge of the bed and kisses the trail of sparse hair leading down from his belly button into the familiar territory concealed by his unzipped pants and underwear beneath, moaning when her cunt presses down against the heel of her foot during the change in position. He can sense that she's about to reach up and pull his clothes down his legs, but, before she can, he remembers something she said to him at the gun range. Before any of the heavy stuff came out, she joked about him holding her at gunpoint while they fucked, and seeing that his gun is tucked right there in the holster hidden in the waistband of his jeans, he doesn't see why he can't bring her fantasy to life.

Her eyes were closed as she kissed her way down the length of his stomach, so when she feels the barrel of a pistol digging into her temple, they shoot open in surprise. It makes her entire body go still until she peeks up at him and sees the look on his face. Without speaking, it tells her that she can call it all off. That if he took it too far and mistook a joke as a request the other week, she has every right to knee him in the balls and banish him to the couch tonight.

Much to his enjoyment, it ignites a sick pleasure between her thighs that he can sense by how she looks at him alone. He's become well-versed in the complexities of her expressions and mannerisms over the time they've spent together. He knows when she's angry with him, upset, happy, or, more appropriately for their current situation, aroused. Right now, she looks like she could eat him alive.

He says, "Go on," and presses the gun into her head with added pressure.

His jeans and underwear are practically torn down his legs seconds after he finishes ordering her around.

The contact of her warm palm wrapping around his cock once it's freed from the confines of his clothes tenses his abdomen muscles. It's heavy in her hand, hot to the touch, and it twitches with the caress of her fingers rubbing the sensitive underside where the tip connects to the rest of his length. She pushes up to stand taller on her knees and allows a string of spit to dribble out of her lips—still visible for the camera, of course—onto it for lubrication as she jerks him off with her head tilted to look up at him.

Once she's sure he got the shot she envisioned in her head, she then sinks back down into her previous position and takes him into her mouth. He's given no chance to prepare himself for it, so when he feels the wet heat of her mouth suctioned around his cock, he can't help how he moans in response to it. Her hand pumps what she can't take all the way into her throat as she pushes her head down as far as she can without gagging, trying to do it exactly how he likes.

"Fuck," he groans, head tipping back to the ceiling, "That's it, baby."

The vibration of her humming with her mouth encasing his cock has him fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward to thrust deeper into her throat. His free hand reaches down and wraps itself in her hair, bringing it away from her face and using it to guide the steady pace of her head bobbing up and down.

There's something particularly thrilling to her about being allowed to do this to him. She likes the idea of being the only person on this earth allowed to touch him, allowed to render him weak from her touch and leave him at her mercy. It helps her understand why he enjoys the power he has over her. It can be intoxicating, in a way, to look at a person and know they would do anything should you request it for nothing in return.

Her other hand comes up to cup his balls, massaging them in her palm and delighting in the reaction of his hips jerking forward to press himself deeper into her mouth. She allows her jaw to go slack at this, relaxing her throat, and glances up at him with a pointed look that tells him exactly what she wants him to do.

The hand he has wrapped up in her hair remains there, gripping the back of her head for leverage as he starts to thrust in and out of her open mouth with little care for how the camera begins to jostle with his sudden movements. It feels far too good to care about whether or not he's getting it on film right now. Every time he feels her throat constrict around the head of his cock, he has to actively fight the urge to come. He typically has the stamina to keep going for a while, but the eroticism of the situation with him filming it and her letting him fuck her mouth pushes everything to a degree of intensity he can't escape from.

They've only done this once before, so the novelty of it has yet to wear off this time around. Every time he pulls away until he's almost slipping out of her mouth, the end of her tongue flicks against his tip in a teasing motion that beckons him back into the tight heat of her mouth.

"Good girl," he murmurs in praise, cut off at the end by his own breathy moan when she swallows around him.

It isn't until he presses a little too deep on the upstroke of one of the thrusts, causing her to gag and take in a sharp breath through her nose, that he uses the hand in her hair to pull her off of him. Her lips are smeared with spit, a string of it connecting from them to the leaking tip of his cock until it breaks and falls onto her breasts, and her hair is a downright mess from the grip he had on it. She gulps down air desperately as she looks up at him, her brows furrowing as if to ask why he stopped.

When he takes too long to answer while staring down at her, she asks him, "What?"

"Take the rest of your clothes off."

He takes a step back with the camera lifting to get a better shot of her and tries to ignore the throbbing of his cock that urges him to bend her over the edge of the bed in order to push him over the edge he's so dangerously close to. The leggings she wore to sleep last night aren't accompanied by any of the skimpy undergarments he's gifted her, so when she dips her fingers under the band and starts to shimmy them down her legs, he's met with the sight of her bare cunt sooner than he expected.

Being the little temptress she is, she takes it slow for the camera. She truly puts on a good show for both him in the present and the future version of him that'll no doubt rewatch it. From where he stands, he can see how wet she is. It glistens on her pussy and inner thighs in the light shining down from the ceiling, and though he wants to get a taste of her, the need to be inside of her already outweighs it greatly. Three days without fucking is far too long for him to resist it now.

He passes the camera off to her, allowing Y/N to scoot back up the bed enough to keep her feet from dangling off as she raises the viewfinder to her eye to capture him tugging his shirt off. Shamelessly, she zooms in on his chest and pans the camera down from the birds on either side of his crucifix necklace, past the butterfly, and to the ferns that decorate his hips before zooming back out to capture him in his entirety.

The bed creaks beneath his shifting weight as he kneels on the edge, crawling over her body until he's settling between her eagerly spread thighs. The gun is set down on the empty space of mattress beside her. She makes sure to point the camera lens down the small gap left between their bodies the best she can to capture everything he does, but it gets increasingly more difficult when he guides his length forward to rub between her folds and soak it with her arousal. The contact of it sitting heavy against her clit has her rocking her hips up against him in a silent urging to hurry up.

He doesn't, though.

He takes his time inflicting this torture, grinding against her and leaving the hand that holds the camera up shaky from the stimulation that is simultaneously too much and not enough. This goes on for as long as he can stand it for the sake of getting her as needy for him as possible. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the least sexy things he can conjure—you know, a cold shower, his grandparents, and so on—to keep himself from getting too excited too fast. If he blows his load the second he pushes into her, he'll probably have to hide his face into one of the pillows to shield himself from the embarrassment.

"Please," she breathes out and rolls her hips up into his to guide his tip closer to her entrance, "Wanna feel full, daddy."

"No," he says.

This halts everything. The movement of her hips, the hand she had rubbing up and down the length of his arm, and the additional pleading words that'd been on the top of her tongue. Right before she can ask him if he wants to stop, he leans down and claims her mouth with his own. It's a deep, surging fire of a kiss. It whisks away any of the thoughts floating around in that head of hers as he uses the distraction to line himself up with her dripping hole and presses the tip inside.

His voice is soft and sweet when he says into her parted lips, "Use my name"—his tongue licks into her mouth playfully—"Say my name and I'll fuck you."

And, of course, it isn't even a full second that passes by the time she's whispering, "Harry, please," into the messy kiss they share.

The stretch of him pushing into her after a few days without intimacy of any kind has her biting down hard on her lip to stifle the whimper that rises out of her from the strange blend of pleasure and pain it elicits. He isn't above average in the way that men are portrayed in porn, but she can't deny that his cock is the biggest she's ever taken. The first time they had sex in Leo's parking garage, he had been behind her, so it wasn't until he entered her and began pounding away with little care for whether or not she needed time to adjust that she realized it.

She loves it. There's nobody else that could compare, which isn't solely to do with his size but rather what he does with it. If she were to tell him the things she thinks when he first thrusts into her every time, his ego would likely inflate to a size ten times the one it typically is. And, when it comes to sex, his ego doesn't need any more stroking than it has gotten already.

The initial pace he sets is not as brutal as it was their first time.

He fucks into her in deep, slow strokes that leave him lingering inside her, aligning their bodies so he rubs against her clit every time he slides in to the hilt. If anything, it's a less hurried recreation of the time they fucked on the motorcycle at the race track. Unlike that time, they have time and privacy to do whatever they'd like for however long they'd like to do it, so he takes his time and tries to savor it with her. Though she may like getting it rough and fast most of the time, neither of them is opposed to something as loving and tender as this.

Softly, she asks, "Can I take these off?" and reaches for one of the hands he has braced on either side of her waist against the mattress. More specifically, she reaches for the gloves he still wears while every other article of clothing has been shed from his body and tossed to the floor. "I wanna feel you touching me. I'll keep them out of view of the camera. I promise."

There's a moment in which the practiced cadence of his thrusts falters in reaction to the question, and it takes a few seconds to make up his mind. She can feel him tensing up on top of her as he becomes aware of his scarred hand again after being buried beneath the blissful haze of pleasure and glances down at where it presses flat against the bed.

I trust her, he reminds himself. I trust her. I trust her. I trust her. I trust her—

He brings his scarred hand up to his face first and bites the end of the glove on his middle finger to tug it off. The camera is immediately turned to the side before it comes all the way off, facing the windows that display the skyline of the city under the dark night sky, to give him the privacy she promised as he lays himself fully bare before her. It isn't the first time, technically, but it is the first time she's asked him to do it. Every other time, he did it of his own choice and made certain to keep it from her line of sight as much as possible, but, tonight, he lets her watch as he pulls both of them off and tosses them in the direction of their other clothes.

During this, he hasn't stopped the slow undulations of his hips that press his cock deep into her, consistently rubbing a sensitive spot inside that draws a series of quiet moans from her open mouth as she pants for breath. What she does next, however, makes him stop for the short second it takes his brain to process what he sees.

She takes the burnt hand that cups her breast and brings it up to her face, setting the camera on the bed to wrap it in both of hers until it's closed into a loose fist. The sensation of her soft, unmarred skin against the ridges and scars covering every inch of his larger hand satisfies something in him that he hadn't known existed, but she isn't done. If he thought he liked the contrast of her skin touching his, the feeling of her lips pressing kisses onto the heel of his hand and curled-up fingers might as well be heaven-sent.

"I love you," she whispers with her eyes fluttering shut to avoid the rejection she assumes is displayed on his face the second she says it. She tries not to cry as she holds his hand to her face, Harry already having gone still inside of her, but there's little she can do to fight it. "You don't have to say it back, but I'm just so tired of not being able to tell you."

There is no part of her that expects him to say the words back. The first time she felt the urge to say them was the day he came back home and apologized to her for leaving by letting her shave off his beard. It was something about the way he looked at her, and she knew at that moment, as he watched her while she pretended not to pay attention, that she was a goner. Truth be told, she had been falling for him long before that. She may have even been in love with him from that first night in the parking garage and hadn't known it until she'd been sitting on his lap to shave his beard for him. Perhaps that was what made her so enraged with him—how desperately she wanted him underneath it all.

Harry mutters, "Open your eyes."

He knows the power he holds over her, so when he tells her to do this, he has no doubt that she will listen to him, especially in the delicate situation they're in currently. Sex has a way of making her more pliant than she is otherwise. Outside of it, there is no doubt that they hold the power in equal amounts between them in their relationship, but during it, she surrenders herself to him in a way she never does elsewhere.

When her eyes open to find him laying atop her body, their chest fitting to one another's with every rise and fall of their breaths, she doesn't find him scowling or withdrawing from her in discomfort. Instead, she finds him looking at her the way he had that day she shaved his beard for him. Those green eyes are softened to a degree they never do unless it's her they're focused on. He has nothing but fondness for her, even after what she just confessed.

"I feel," he says, pausing as though trying to get the words out is harder than anything he's ever done before, "so much for you...I can't—I can't say that yet, but that doesn't mean I don't feel similarly." He pulls his burnt hand out of her grasp to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while he looks down at her. "I've always been yours."

This stuns her to silence.

Never in her life did she think she'd receive something like that from him—not refusal, rejection, or cruelty, but honesty and validation. Hell froze over, basically, and she couldn't be happier about it.

She says, "Then let me treat you like you belong to me."

Y/N guides him to roll over onto his back, careful as he pulls out of her to shift their position in order for her to straddle his lap. Her legs sit on either side of his hips, and she rises up on her knees just enough to allow him to guide his cock back inside of her. As soon as she sinks down onto him, they're both moaning out into the empty apartment with their hands clinging onto one another for support. Hers brace themselves on his pecs, fingers splayed over his swallow tattoos, and she uses this to keep herself steady as she begins to rock her hips back and forth on him. In this position, she can feel him even deeper than she did seconds ago.

He reaches for the camera that has been laying on its side on the mattress for the past two minutes and brings it back up to his face to capture his point of view. Her hair falls around her face as she drops her head down to meet his gaze, and he can't tear his eyes away from her for any longer than a second before he feels the need to find her again. With every thrust, she rides him harder. Fully in control, she sets the pace and depth she enjoys most and lets him come along for the ride with her, his hand holding onto her hip so hard that he runs the risk of bruising her.

"Harry," she whines, her eyes shining with tears, "Fuck—I love you."

The hand squeezing her hips guide her through the motions as she begins to get too immersed in the pleasure to keep it up. Her breasts bounce with the jolting motions of their bodies colliding, the wet sound of their rutting invading the room and accompanying the symphony of moans and sighs that otherwise fill the silence. It takes everything he has to keep himself from coming pathetically early from the sight and sound of her being split open on his cock. He had already noticed how close he was getting when she let him fuck her mouth, but now he's barely hanging on.

He has to close his eyes, knowing that if he keeps looking up at her while they do this, he'll finish in a matter of seconds and leave her unsatisfied. This has never happened to him before. In all the times he hooked up with random people over the years, treating sex more like a chore to release his volatile emotions than anything else, he never felt as though he was going to come less than a minute in. If anything, he took pride in the fact that he had stamina in bed, but he's beginning to realize now that it had little to do with his ability and everything to do with how he was treating the actual act of having sex with someone. They were physically attractive to him, yes, but they weren't her. And they certainly weren't crying out his name and telling him they loved him the way she is right now.

"Hey," she whispers, "what's wrong?"

The rapid pace she set begins to slow with her growing concern for him, but he doesn't let her. He uses the hand he has on her hip to keep her moving on his cock, shaking his head to dispel her worry as he tries to string together a sentence amidst the euphoria.

His eyes remain clamped shut when he mutters, "M'gonna come too fast if I look at you."

To this, she squeezes around him as tightly as she can as if to egg him on, invigorated by the thrill of knowing what she does to him and using it to bounce her hips on him like her life depends on it. She even exaggerates the sound of her soft moans for the sake of pushing him closer to the edge, and if he weren't so close to his orgasm, he'd probably laugh and call her out for being such a tease. At this point, he doesn't care about the camera capturing any of it. It ends up falling to the bed next to their bodies as he throws his head back against the mattress and tries to pull himself back from the brink of climax.

Then, he feels the hard steel of the pistol he left on the bed pressing into the side of his head.

"Go on," she says, and he can hear the smirk in her voice, "I want you to."

When he opens his eyes to take in the sight of her on top of him, there's no turning back. From the delicate curves of her hips leading up to her waist to the look in her eyes as she stares him down with his own gun pressed to his temple, this visual of her at the moment is nothing short of pornographic. Everything about it overstimulates him—watching her, hearing her breathy moans, and feeling her cunt squeezing around him as if she's trying to milk every drop of cum from his thick cock.

His brows scrunch up as he teeters on the edge, begging her, "Say it again. Please," he starts to thrust up to meet her movements, holding her still by her hip to allow him to pound into her with all of his strength, "Tell me."

Without even having to ask for clarity, she knows that what he wants to hear isn't the last thing she said. It's the confession that she's kept from spewing for weeks, and knowing that hearing her say it pushes him closer brings a tired smile to her kiss-swollen lips. She tosses the loaded gun aside and it clatters along the floor, sliding until it hits the far-off wall, then leans down to kiss him. Her lips taste of the flavored gloss she borrowed from Alanis this afternoon, and he slides his arms around her waist to tug her closer, chasing his release with little care for anything other than the woman before him.

He bites down on her lower lip in punishment when she takes too long to give him what he asked.

"Say it," Harry demands.

​​She gasps at the brutality of his thrusts and falls into his chest with no strength left to keep herself held up, whining every time he buries himself inside her hard enough that she knows she'll be sore tomorrow. The gun slips out of her hand and onto the sheets beside the forgotten camera she gifted him.

She cries out, "I love you, I love you—"

Her emphatic declarations of love are cut short by Harry kissing her, using her gasps for air as his chance to lick into her mouth with his tongue as he gives himself to the pleasure that has been begging to consume him since they began.

It's unlike anything he's experienced before. He never thought that sex could feel like this until he met her, and, more specifically, until he realizes what it felt like to do it with someone who loves you. With each spurt of his release, he feels like his life force is being drained out of him and given to her—it feels as if his soul belongs to her now. The arms wrapped around her are squeezing with enough force to limit her breathing, and he doesn't dream of letting her go. Not yet. He holds her as close to him as possible while he rides out the blissful rush of endorphins pumping through his body as his thrusts slow to a lazy grinding of his hips into hers.

She dips her head down to kiss his neck in the aftermath, giving him the space he needs to catch his breath now that he's on the comedown. His chest rises and falls at a rapid rate beneath hers, but it isn't a steady one. It jerks and stutters in a way she's only felt or seen when the person she's holding is crying, and it makes her come back up from the warm curve of his neck to check on him.

Those long lashes are wet with the tears he attempts to blink away. He is crying, but she doesn't feel alarmed by it. It's obvious to her that it isn't the type of crying bred from sorrow or regret, it's the type of crying bred from happiness. From love. They're the same kind of tears that she shed moments ago when she confessed her feelings for him.

As soon as he catches her watching him, though, he stops. Not because he isn't comfortable with her crying but, instead, because it occurs to him for the first time since coming back from the intense pleasure of his orgasm that she didn't come. And that simply won't do.

Harry pecks her once on the mouth before using the arms still encasing her waist to flip them over. With his considerable strength, it's a smooth transition that is over as soon as it begins, and she hardly has the chance to laugh before her back hits the mattress. He's already descending the length of her body by the time she lifts her head to look at him. His hands push her legs apart with little formality, exposing her sodden cunt to him.

"You don't have to—"

She can't even finish the sentence before his face is buried between her thighs, his tongue spreading her open and feasting on her unashamedly. He could tell that she was getting close by the time he came, so he didn't want to waste any time and risk her losing it.

It's hard for her to hold her head up off of the bed to look down at him, but she holds out for as long as she can because seeing him looking up at her with his tongue lapping up his own cum that drips from her is undoing in and of itself. Knowing he close she was before, once he's swallowed all of the release that was dripping from her hole, he moves his attention up to her clit. The difference is immediately noticeable in how she tenses up in his hold and starts to grind her pussy against his face in a desperate plea for more, more, more.

Although his cheeks are burning scarlet from coming prematurely, it is all forgotten in her mind and replaced by the budding pleasure building in the pit of her tummy. His lips close around her clit and suck hard, his tongue flicking against it repeatedly, and she can't help but throw her head back against the mattress in ecstasy. It has her breath turning from a steady, deep rhythm to heavy pants that are never enough. From his place down low, he watches her back arch and exaggerate the size of her breasts as they fall up and down with the dramatic breaths she takes.

He parts from her for only a second to murmur in between kisses placed on her sticky inner thighs, "Could stay here all night, baby, y'taste so fucking good."

The arms he has wrapped around her thighs rug her closer to his face, and he begins to lose himself in it now. Whenever she sneaks a glance down at him, his eyes are closed and the movements of his tongue and lips on her clit are executed with a practiced perfection. God, she cannot believe that she has him all to herself. Now that she knows he's with her for the long haul, she finds it difficult to wrap her head around the fact that she is the only one who gets to experience this with him. Plenty of women and men take lingering looks at him whenever they're out in public, but his eyes never stray from her. Hers is the only body he will kneel before to worship like a devout believer praying at an altar before the Almighty.

She babbles incoherently as he lifts her hips up from the bed and eats her like a man starved, licking and sucking at her puffy clit like he'll never get the chance to do it again. He's in a trance at this point. Even when she whines his name and reaches down to grab a handful of his hair to tug on, he doesn't react or look up at her, he just continues his relentless assault on her sensitive cunt until she starts to feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm stirring inside of her.

Having been warmed up for it by him fucking her, it doesn't take much to get her back to where she'd been before he came. She was already easy to rile when they were strangers to each other's bodies, but now that he knows her better than he's ever known a partner before, he could get the job done in less than two minutes if he wants to. And, he thinks that just might happen tonight if the way she's saying his name and clawing at his shoulders has anything to say about it.

"Harry!" she sobs, "M'gonna come—fuck—right there!"

One more flick of his tongue against her clit as his lips suck hard around it and she is sent careening over the edge into oblivion with nothing to tether her to reality except for him. She digs her nails into his shoulders as she jerks and tenses with every pulsating wave of her climax. It robs her of her breath, leaving her with nothing to do but writhe throughout it all and leave her mouth fallen open to sing her praises to him with what little breath she manages to take in. It's the type of orgasm that wipes the slate clean and empties her mind of every worry it held onto prior to this. The hit on Saturday, Alanis leaving the country, either of them being hurt on the next job—none of it can reach her.

When the final peak of it drops her back off into her body, he remains between her thighs, ever the diligent lover, to help her through the aftershocks before she becomes too sensitive to handle his touch for a bit. It isn't until she pulls on his hair, mumbling a soft, "Too much," at him while she jerks her hips away, that he pulls away. The back of his hand wipes his mouth and chin to clean it of the mixture of his cum and her slick arousal.

With the absence of their moans and the sounds of their bodies converging, the room rings with silence as he crawls back up the length of her body and collapses onto her chest with a tired sigh. She accepts him with open arms, her mind too muddled from her climax to even realize that this is the first time he's cuddled with her. His body is a furnace atop hers, and she savors every second of the warmth seeping into her body, the thin layers of sweat coating them blending at each place they connect.

It takes a long time for either of them to say anything.

Harry lays with his head cradled against her heaving chest, eyes closed, and takes it all in. Every word, every touch, every kiss—he rewinds the events of the night and relives them until he has them memorized inside and out. The burnt hand slides up the side of her waist until it finds one of the hands resting on his shoulders, removing it for the sake of entwining their fingers together.

Meanwhile, Y/N lies beneath him in utter shock.

Tonight went in the opposite of every direction she assumed it would. The aforementioned shock doesn't mean she is displeased by the turn of events, not in the slightest, but she can't say that their previous track record indicated any of this going as smoothly as it has.

"Can I tell y'something?"

His voice is the first to break the silence.

A lazy smile appears on her face as she cranes her neck to allow herself to meet his gaze. His head is tilted back, her breast a soft cushion beneath it, and his heavy-lidded eyes never stray from her face.

"Anything," she says.

There's a pause, then—

"I stole your knives."

She sits up as much as their current position will allow with her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Her upper body is supported on her elbows when she sits up, disrupting his comfortable spot on her chest in favor of checking his face for any sign of dishonesty or playful teasing. There is only honesty found in his unflinching stare.

"What?"

He sighs, pushing himself up so that he's no longer bearing all of his weight on her body and, instead, braces most of it on his arms while he lays between her legs.

"After I brought you home from Leo's place," he clarifies, "when y'were too distracted with Alanis and Zayn to notice, I stole them."

"Why?"

In her heart, she already knows the answer to that question, but she must ask. For the sake of the heart that aches for him at the mere thought of his possible reasoning for doing such a thing, she must ask.

He says softly, "I didn't want you to hurt yourself again."

That statement alone could be replayed and analyzed in the back of her mind until the end of time. How could he claim he never cared when they fought last night if everything else he says when they talk contradicts it? First, it was him sparing her life, then giving her rent money, then saving her from being tortured and murdered at Leo's hand, and countless other actions no terrible man would bother going through with. If he's a monster, then why was he the only one to see her drowning and extend a hand to pull her from the rough current?

"You know what I think?" she asks.

He doesn't dare respond with anything other than a glance. Should this go south in the way he's assuming it will—because, let's be honest, it always goes south eventually when it comes to him—he doesn't want to say anything more to ruin it than he already has. She's probably preparing to scold him for assuming she couldn't handle her urges on her own, for assuming she needed to be looked after like a child—

"I think you're a good man, Harry."

Everything stops at that.

The thoughts racing around in his head, his heart hammering against his ribcage in his chest, and every other part of him that has been on alert to assess the next threat for the past decade—it all stops, and, for the first time since he was dragged into this abhorrent world of murder and heartache, he can breathe.

No one has ever said that to him. Growing up, it was because it was a given. He was a sweet boy, a mama's boy, and the few times he got in trouble were due to misunderstandings and typical childhood mood swings. So, no one felt the need to point it out. But, after he began "working" for Leo, everyone pointed out the opposite. Everyone called him a monster, not that he ever disagreed, and he welcomed it. The more people who feared him, who loathed him, the better. The distance would protect him. Everyone he's met in the last ten years has come to the same consensus that he is a terrible man worthy of nothing. Until her.

"You're just a good man who's been forced to become someone he's not," she whispers, "and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that, but I do now." Her hand reaches down to brush the hair hanging in his eyes out of his face as she looks at him with a softened gaze. Tears flood her eyes once more, and she wishes she could get through it without becoming overwhelmed with emotion, but she can't. Her voice even trembles when she says, "And I love you so much."

He cannot do anything but stare at her with every word he wants to say stuck in the back of his throat, barred from coming out until he processes what she said and allows the full emotion of it to rush through him. And even though he can't say it back yet, hearing it from her over and over tonight has reached a place in his threat he thought was long since dead.

His mouth opens to speak, but he's cut off.

The sound of his phone ringing where he left it in the living room cuts through the blissful haze created by the night they've spent together, and she can instantly feel him tensing up on top of her. His eyes shut, and it's almost as if he pretends that if he stays as still as possible, nothing will have to change. But, of course, they have a harsh reality to face whenever either of their phones ring, so he has no choice but to part with her to answer it.

"Stay here, baby," he murmurs, then pushes himself off of her and stalks off toward the living room in pursuit of his phone.

Unlike the night at the race track, Harry doesn't keep a distance between them once he picks up the call. He actually comes back into the room and sits at the end of the bed as he hits the button to answer it. She doesn't invade his privacy by crawling up from behind and wrapping her arms around him as she wishes to, but she does watch him throughout for any signs of it being Leo or Garrett calling them to action.

She can't hear what the person on the other end of the line is saying, but with the way his brows raise and his eyes widen, she assumes the worst. She assumes that Garrett is calling to tell them that they have to get in the car and drive to the place where the hit will take place as soon as possible.

Harry nods his head along to whatever the person is saying, even glancing over his shoulder at her once or twice. But, much to her surprise, he doesn't hide his true feeling from her by schooling his face into the typical mask of neutrality.

“Can I bring someone with me?” he asks, then spins a little white lie in order to convince them to let him bring her along. “I know it’s supposed to be family only, but I just got married yesterday. I’d like my wife to come along.”

Her heart begins to pound at the thought of the title he just placed on her. Even if it’s not the truth.

A second later, he says, "Good. We'll be there tonight."

-

The whole car ride over, which ended up being a little over an hour, he briefed her on where they were going and why they were going there. As soon as the call dropped, he was quick to reassure her that it wasn't Leo or Garrett calling upon them for their services. She watched in confusion as he stood up from the bed and began getting dressed, digging through the dresser drawers for a clean set of casual clothes as he told her to do the same.

It wasn't until she stood from the bed and began dressing beside him, slipping on a loose pair of jeans and one of his vintage band tees, that he offered any form of an explanation for the interruption. Apparently, it was the same place or person that called him the night on the race track when he had a "family emergency", the only difference this time being that she was allowed to peek behind the curtain and know what was going on.

Harry stuffed his gun back into the holster he switched from his dirty pants to his new ones, saying to her as he searched the room for his backpack, "My mother's in a nursing home. Whenever they call, I go. M'sorry to cut our Christmas short, but they called with good news. I'll explain it all in the car. C'mon."

With that, he grabbed her arm by the wrist and pulled her along to follow him. They made it all the way out of the apartment, into the elevator, and to the top level of the garage where he always kept his cars parked before he proceeded with his promised explanation. It was all a bit jarring, honestly. To receive such pivotal information in a matter of seconds, all while her head was still reeling from the night they shared, dizzied her.

They were about ten minutes into the ride when he spoke again.

"She has Alzheimer's," he said, cutting her a sorrowful look before looking back at the road. "When I was eighteen, she needed to be put into full-time care. S'why I had to borrow so much money from Leo, I couldn't afford any of it at the time. I mean, what eighteen-year-old living in the states can?" The music playing from the phone he plugged into the aux cord filled the gaps in speech as she stared at him with watering eyes. "Anyway, they called and said she had a fall last month. Broke her hip and needed surgery, that's why I left so fast. But, this time, it's good. The nurse said she's been lucid for hours. It never usually happens for any longer than thirty minutes with her, so by the time I get there, she doesn't even know who I am."

That's what led her here, standing hand in hand with him in the lobby of the nursing home with her head spinning from the overload of information dumped on her.

That was what Leo had to keep him in it, wasn't it? It didn't make sense to her why he stayed if he was so close to killing himself as a way out at one point, but, now, everything clicks. If he killed himself, his mother would be left with no one to pay for her care, and if he left...It's the same situation she faced with Alanis. It's Leo's best tactic at getting people to obey him—find out who they love and keep them under the threat of death or torture at all times should the person working under him step out of line.

From what she knows of Alzheimer's and Dementia patients, terminal lucidity is often a sign of death waiting right around the corner, but she doesn't dare to say that to him. How could she ruin this ray of sunshine that has found its way into his life after years of perpetual night?

He squeezes her hand hard in his, tapping his foot against the tiled floor to the anxious beat of his heart, and keeps searching down the long hallway for the nurse that said she'd go and ask her if she wanted to see her visitors.

"It's been, like, seven years since she remembered me," he says with a smile growing on his face. "Do y'think she'll remember me now?"

Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder and looks up at him with a smile to match his own.

"If they're saying she's lucid, I don't see why she wouldn't."

It's difficult for her to enjoy the happiness emanating from him. All she can think of is how young he was when it all began and how terrified he must've been. He told her on the car ride over that his dad never spoke to them again once she got the diagnosis, leaving him to handle everything in his absence, and it made her heart snap in two. He was just a boy. He's never had the chance to truly live as an adult, every second has been consumed by the debt, Leo, and murdering people against his will, and it enrages her. If the promise of his imminent downfall weren't already planned out, she'd likely steal his gun and hunt their boss down herself for stealing his life away.

He saw a sweet young boy in need of help, desperate to latch onto any older man he could out of a need for a father figure to replace the one that abandoned him, and chose to destroy him rather than lend a hand. So, while Harry smiles and waits in excitement for the nurse to bring them to his mother, she's trying not to cry for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

The sound of a woman's gentle voice breaks her from her trance.

"Mr. Styles?" she asks, then turns her gaze to her. "Mrs. Styles?"

The ring sitting on her left hand is an old one he dug out of the jewelry stand in the bathroom. It isn't what most people would view as a traditional wedding ring, but it was the only one he had that fit her ring finger, so it would have to work. If anyone questioned him, he'd happily tell them fuck right off. The nurse's unbreaking stare makes her realize she forgot to take off the sunglasses he gave her, and she reaches up to snatch them off of her face.

It was dark outside, but she put them on on the off chance that she'd cry more tonight and need to hide her puffy red eyes from any curious passerby. And, considering the fact that she was two seconds from shedding tears from merely thinking of what he's gone through, that wasn't an unrealistic worry to have.

"Yes?" Harry responds.

The badge clipped to the front of her pink scrub shirt reads, "Kaitlyn," and she smiles so widely, her eyes crinkle at the sides from behind the thick lenses of eyeglasses.

"Come with me."

It takes a decent minute or so to get from the lobby to the open door to his mother's assigned room. The nurse had to use her badge to swipe them into the patient's side of the of building, explaining away about their safety precautions to protect the inhabitants as both of them ignored her in favor of their own thoughts. Down another long hallway of rooms, to the left, and there it is. Her name is written on a dry-erase board hanging from the front of the door.

Elise.

What a lovely name, she thinks to herself.

Kaitlyn comes to a stop outside of the threshold and offers them a bright smile as a parting gift, saying, "She's waiting for you. She just took her sleeping meds, so she'll probably be out pretty soon, but you've got thirty minutes before visiting is done, so enjoy."

Harry walks in ahead of her with his gloved hand still holding on tight, arm extending behind to guide her in after him as he hurries into the room with an excitement that cannot be contained within it. The first thing she sees are walls covered from top to bottom with artwork. Paintings, drawings, sketches, and more framed forms of art that cover the beige walls and enliven them with color. It makes sense now that she sees how his mother chose to decorate her room why Harry has such an artistic, romantic soul.

And when she turns her attention over to the woman sitting up in a reclining chair, even deteriorating with age and sickness, Harry's good looks make even more sense to her. Long hair the same shade as his, following the same loose curl pattern, is streaked with grays and braided in two sides.

"Mum," he says as a way of greeting.

Their smiles are exactly the same, she soon realizes. Dimples form on either side of her lips as they pull away from her teeth in a grin, and her two front teeth are a tad bit longer than the others beside them. Just like his.

She holds out her hands in an invitation for him to come closer.

"My baby boy," Elise says softly.

Neither of them is sure how lucid she is, whether or not she knows he's not still an eighteen-year-old kid or younger even, but he got what he wished for the past seven years. His mother remembers who he is. For once in his adult life, he doesn't come to visit her only to be met with confusion and violent outbursts. The last time he came here, she was so high off of the pills they gave her in her recovery from hip surgery that when she woke up to see him sitting at her bedside in the middle of the night, she began screaming and throwing every nearest object she could reach at the "intruder"

The two of them share a lingering embrace, and Y/N doesn't do much other than take in the small room, picking at the sleeve of the shirt she stole from him to keep her hands occupied.

When they pull apart, Elise's eyes land on her and narrow. They scan up and down, almost analytically, until she seems to get a general grip on who the woman standing in front of her is. She inevitably comes to the conclusion that she is a stranger to her but not to her dear son.

"This is my girlfriend," Harry says. He stares at her with affection shining through in his eyes and reaches out his hand to beckon her closer. "Her name is Y/N. We were just exchanging our Christmas gifts"—a subtle wink direction at her while he brings her over to the same side of the recliner chair he stands on—"when Kaitlyn called me."

There's a moment of silence.

"Are those mine?"

Y/n follows the path of Elise's finger pointing to the center of her chest and finds that the sunglasses Harry gifted her last month are the subject of interest.

He squeezes her hand a few times in his before letting it go to kneel beside his mother.

"They are," he says quietly, which is news to Y/N. "You told me when I was twenty to give them to the woman I want to marry...I think she's the one, Mum. You'll love her once you two get talking for a bit."

Elise watches her for a couple more seconds before settling her attention back on her son and nodding in acceptance of his choice. It must be overwhelming—meeting your grown son and his girlfriend for the first time after years of not knowing who you are or where you live except for short moments of clarity that never last more than thirty minutes. The last time she was fully lucid in his presence, he was on the cusp of adolescence and adulthood. His hair was overgrown, shaggy and wild with the same curls growing from her head, and his eyes were brighter back then. It was before Leo had broken him.

When she looks around the room, Y/N notices framed pictures on her bedside table and ones that hang on the walls between art pieces carefully chosen from her large collection locked away in a storage unit he pays for monthly. It isn't so bad, but when she pays attention, it saddens her. The carpet is stained in places, whether it be with blood or urine, there's no way to tell, but the smell is suffocating. Clearly, she's had many accidents relating to incontinence, and the staff must not properly clean the rug enough to keep the stench from permeating through the air of the closed area.

It starts to get so bad to her over the next minute, she feels the need to hold her breath, and she can't stand it for another second before she has to excuse herself.

"Um, I'm gonna go to the ladies' room," she says with a forced smile, then shoots him a look that tells him not to worry about her. "Be right back."

Neither of them puts up a fight when she turns to walk out of the room, they're far too distracted with each other to notice the undercurrent of tension that lives within her at the moment. The sense of sickness persists the entire way down the hall until she passes through the double doors Kaitlyn had to swipe her badge to get them through. She isn't concerned with getting back to Elise's room at the moment, though. Her main concern is whether or not she can stifle the sickness rising in her throat.

Thankfully for her, the strong scent is evaporated once she reaches the bathrooms stationed at the front lobby and replaced with the overpowering disinfectant used to wipe down the mirrors, sinks, toilets, and floors. It's unpleasant but not nearly as bad as she found the scent of urine in the hall of patient rooms.

Y/N comes to a halt in front of one of the mirrors, bracing her hands against the sink, and takes deep breaths in and out of her mouth until she feels stable enough in her ability to keep her food down. The relief of knowing she won't have to throw up releases the tension that built in her shoulders and neck, allowing her to sigh a heavy breath of relief and turn away from the sink now that she knows she won't be sick.

Her head hangs low as she turns to lean against the porcelain, her fingers gripping it hard enough to turn her knuckles white, and tries to calm herself amidst all that has happened today. From beginning to end, it took her for enough twists and turns to give her whiplash.

Hopefully, she won't feel sick again when she goes back in there, but she doesn't have any other choice. It's his mother. His mother he avoided mentioning to her like the plague and didn't trust her knowing was alive until tonight. The fact that he brought her here to meet her while she's lucid is an honor she could never thank him enough for bestowing upon her. Not to mention, the sunglasses, him calling her his girlfriend, and the lie he told to the nurses about her being his new wife.

A subdued little smirk finds its way to her face as she lifts her head up and turns to make her way back to the patient rooms, but something hanging on the wall catches her eye.

It's a dispenser for feminine hygiene products.

And that is all it takes for her to be stopped in her tracks. She typically gets prone to nausea in the days before her period, but not without the presence of dull cramps that don't require any more than a dose of over-the-counter pain medication. This nausea she has can't be her period, not if she doesn't have any other symptoms or even a little spotting in her panties.

The longer she looks at the dispenser, the more it dawns on her what might be happening to her.

She didn't get her period in November, did she? It's most often toward the end of the month, so she didn't worry about it, but with everything that's been going on, she got so distracted that she—

Her hand slaps over her mouth as she hurries out of the restroom and flees for the colder night air in hopes that it'll cool her down from the anxiety causing her to perspire beneath her clothes. Going back to the memory of her last period verges on impossible considering the more important information she's had to keep track of in the time since the middle of October, but she knows it didn't come last month. And if her last period was two weeks before Halloween and she vomited her guts out after being drugged by Tate?

The wind blows cold against her stunned face, and she can't do anything but pace around in a blind panic.

She took the pill regularly every single day, and she made sure of that, but Halloween night was the only time she fucked up. The alarm for her pill is seven in the afternoon, and it wasn't much later that she was on her knees puking into a trash can. That paired with the fact that she and Harry had sex first thing in the morning—

"Fuck..."

[repo-net]

A Towa's Thoughts

"And t-that's why... we can set up the fort for all the children right here in Towa Tower. It's already manufactured in a way that protects us from intruders - not that it should really be a problem once all the adults are out of this city, but it's always good to have precautions. And not to mention, the massive space allows for our robots to go all out without wrecking muc-"

"Okay, Nagisa. Monaca gets it."

"Oh- right. S-Sorry... I may have over-spoke. But you get the idea, right?"

Monaca nodded, brushing her own hair a little bit as she looked at the blue-haired boy in front of her. He was carrying a very detailed and very well-written set of papers with him. He's been hard at work trying to detail out the architecture and blueprints for their supposed paradise, huh? She couldn't help but smile at that.

The mage of the Warriors of Hope had been spending most of today just asking her fellow teammates what plans they have for their future. A rekindling of fire after Monaca turned their desire to see every adult in the city into a game, trying to one-up each other and see who could 'score the most points' started to push them even further. All of them were slowly dancing to Monaca's tune, and the pieces were falling in line one by one.

Well, most of them were, anyways. In Monaca's eyes, there was one of them that hadn't quite turned just yet.

"Hmhm. So that's what your thoughts are... let Monaca think for a moment."

A cold shiver went down Nagisa's spine as he stared Monaca down in the eye. He felt his left hand shake in anxiety, instinctively and slowly hiding it behind him. But Monaca could already read him like an open book so, so easily.

It'd been like that since elementary school ever since they met. Monaca's simple kindness and warm smile made Nagisa feel an emotion he didn't even know existed at the time. Someone that he thought saw him for more than just a tool and experiment meant the world to him. He was so unbelievably smitten with her ever since then. And while she did find it amusing enough that she enjoyed teasing him about it...

Unfortunately for him, those feelings were one-sided. And not in a way that he would've accepted if the truth were to come out, such as 'sorry Nagisa, Monaca's just not interested'.

It was more along the lines of 'sorry Nagisa, Monaca just doesn't see the need to keep you around longer than need be'.

Did she feel bad about it? Sure, of course. There was going to be a small part of her that ate her up seeing the future of what her friends were going to be once her true plan was set in motion. But there's always been something about Nagisa that often bothered her. He always had a sadistic and violent side to him that came out when he felt that he or any of the children; Warrior of Hope or not were being wronged.

But from his low kill count, to how he's so oddly sympathetic with the people they're fighting against...? It puzzled her what he was being so hesitant for.

"Tell me, Nagisa. What do you think of adults... or rather, the demons?"

"Huh? Oh. Well, the answer's quite simple. I can't live with them. Just being around them puts me at unease. I think we'd all be better off if they weren't with us."

... No use of the word 'kill' or 'death' anywhere, huh? He sure was dancing around his words very carefully. Monaca was aware of the fact that Nagisa had a honest core in the end and he did his best to avoid saying words he didn't completely mean.

"Then why don't you want to kill all the nasty and horrible demons with us, Nagisa? Don't you love Monaca's game? She worked really hard on it."

Emphasis on work as she shook her head back and forth like a metronome. She knew how much Nagisa valued the idea of someone working hard on something and needed to prod at him.

"Of course I want to kill them! They're... I can't forgive them. Even the innocents can't be allowed to stay any more. Nobody stops to save the good people in a war, that's just how it is. But I just feel like we could be doing so, so much more than this."

He's too passive. She had to be direct with him now.

"Nagisa. Tell Monaca the truth. You're thinking you'd rather get them all out of this city rather than having them all killed, don't you?"

Nagisa turned meek. The words he had in his mind were immediately shut down by Monaca's attack; the exact intention she had. She wanted him to question himself and his loyalty.

Monaca knew full well just how emotionally attached he was to her. She knew that if she just tugged him hard enough and used the right words, he could easily go off and orchestrate a plan that would take out a massive chunk of adults in a single go.

There was another option she had in her mind, but... that was going to be saved if he turned extremely traitorous. Going against her plans, whether it be the game or the second generation she wants to see reborn will make him see a side of her he'd never expect.

"I don't have any aversion to either concept. My point is that using our time and resources to wreck the same town we're supposed to create paradise in is only going to delay our goal. But-"

Cut him off.

"Monaca wants to ask you this then, Nagisa. Let's assume we do get all of the adults out of town, nice and dandy! Then they find a way to contact Future Foundation. And after we've finally built our beautiful utopia and safe haven for kids, all these adults that we could've finished off are now striking back against us. Doesn't that sound just horrible, Nagisa? Monaca would feel so incredibly disappointed, you know. That's not even to consider the betrayal Masaru, Jataro, and Kotoko would feel..."

His face turned pale as his eyes were full of submission and dismay. She was starting to get to him. Now she needed to close it out and make sure he doesn't even get a chance to rebute.

Wheeling herself closer to him, she cupped his chin with a saccharine smile on her face, enough to fluster him and turn his eyes to the side.

"That doesn't sound very nice, does it Nagisa? Do you know what that would make you?"

"Um..."

"A traitor."

The moment she said it, Monaca could just feel his heart sink at that word. Him, a traitor? After everything he's done for them? Surely not... being exiled by his only friends, the people that he'd do anything for... that was too much to handle.

"So Monaca will ask very, very kindly. I want you to play together with everyone else, okay? Get along with the other Warriors of Hope for me. And kill all the adults. Can Monaca ask that of you, Nagisa?"

She flashed him an excessively sweet close-eyed smile, now rubbing his chin with her fingers as he shivered in what felt like reverence.

"Yes. I understand completely. I'll do absolutely anything for you, Monaca. C-Could you... step back a little though? This is a little... uhm. Close..."

Realizing the situation's softened up now, Monaca shifted back into a more casual and peppy tone, clasping her hands as she laid into her chair, giggling.

"Step back? Come on now, don't be so rude, Nagisa. Surely you can understand why Monaca can't do such a thing, meow?"

She pointed a finger subtly at her legs, while giving him a teasingly sad look. The realization hit him and put an apologetic and flustered look on his face.

"Ah! Right...! Sorry, sorry! I should've-''

"Nagisa, it's fiiine. Monaca was just teasing you, heehee."

He really needed to loosen up some more. Monaca really wanted to like him more. Nagisa saw her as an angel and genuinely believed in the best of her traits, but still...

Whether it be his goals or his feelings. Her heart just didn't feel the same way he did.

[cjsees-art]

Who are the two missing eyeball OCs? (Horn and bug)

ANON I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR ASKING ME THIS

this is Lanister (he/they)! unfortunately the RP he was designed for never got off the ground so he's currently an unhomed/independent OC but I do hope to put him back into something since I've gotten really attached to him :] he's a contortionist by ability but a librarian by trade! he can extend and twist his body beyond typical human limits and thus invoke illusions; by reasonably stretching the suspension of disbelief of their onlookers, they can push that suspension further and further and trick the mind into seeing even more apparently unbelievable distortions until it becomes difficult for his audience to tell what's real and what's not real any longer. The first thing to watch out for when you think he might be using magic is his horn, since it always begins to grow and spread when the illusions start. Despite how horrific this sounds (and is), however, they're actually quite nice and mild-mannered, and sees their magic mostly as a trade. They're a sweet guy!!

And this fine fellow is Ovid! he's part of a drastically different, postapocalyptic, setting of @cabinette's. his job is putting cybernetic modifications on people who ask him for it, and he's a little guy (5' 5") who is incredibly unassuming in every way except for the fact that he's given himself Giant Robotic Bug Claws on his back mostly because he could. he's really very unassuming and doesn't tend to draw a lot of attention to himself—the only downside is that he is a genius and is keenly, keenly, painfully aware of it, and tries not to think about it, and tries not to think about the fact that he could easily code everyone in the base into a mechanical god as easily as he could pull a fire alarm, and tries not to give into that temptation, because he knows what will happen, and it will be bad, and the urge to do it is still there, just because he can. But he won't. Because he's a good guy. Surely.

(He failed, by the way. He accidentally rewrote the brain of one of his few friends into a superpowerful droid body in a moment of weakness. But he has to atone, right? An eye for a life isn't worth much, but it's got to be worth something. Right?)

Don't worry he's just a little guy tho

[klqrambles]

From here

Doing this for the Kmusical Frankenstein pt 2: tumblr deleted the original electric boogaloo

gonna say why I did/didn't circle certain things under cut if people are interested

This is gonna be in whatever order I think is most fun :3c

The names of characters have been changed because of reasons -> Victor is still Victor Frankenstein, but Henry is Henry Dupre and Elizabeth is Julia. Victor also has a sister named Ellen and a butler named Runge, and Julia's father is named Stephan. Also Julia's family is the one who takes in Victor.

Set in the Victorian or Regency era instead of late 1700s -> it's set in 1815 during and post the Napoleonic Wars

Victor is a doctor -> Well, we don't know exactly, but he is the head of R&D in the military, so presumably?

Adam is not brought to life in a college dorm room -> He's brought to life in Victor's family laboratory (Victor's father was a doctor)

Adam has the memories/personality of a person that his body parts came from -> the Creature's head is Henry's (he was beheaded after being accused of murder long story lol also each of the main character actors play 2 roles in the musical it's really fun) and some actors choose to have the Creature remember bits and pieces of his past as Henry.

Adam's movements are neurodivergent coded to make him "scarier" or more "childlike" -> Definitely to make him more "childlike", but as such he ends up "growing out" of it

Adam never mentions or references Paradise Lost -> He might, but if he does it's lost on me since I haven't read it lol. But also he doesn't have any time to read it because instead of living with the DeLacey's, he's captured and forced to fight in an illegal fight ring.

We are expected to actually like Victor and Elizabeth as a couple -> I put this as "???" because I think so, but also Henry and the Creature get in the way of those two's relationship so often, and their relationship hinges on one promise they made as children so idk compared to Henry and Victor's relationship it really doesn't hold any ground LOL

No Walton -> The ending doesn't involve a boat so for all we know maybe Victor did meet a Walton on his way there, but he sure has left him behind by that point.

Victor is buff for some reason -> I put this as "depends" because it depends on which actor is playing Victor lol. You have everything from "Used to be a baseball player but shifted to musical acting post career" Min Woohyuk Victor to "My friends and I call him a flamingo for a reason" Jeon Dongsuk Victor to "Super Junior Idol" Kyuhyun Victor so, every flavor of Victor exists LOL

Some things I didn't circle I want to talk about cause why not

What do you mean Frankenstein had more themes than "don't play god" -> While that's definitely one of the major themes of the musical, there's definitely some themes of "What undiagnosed trauma does to a motherfucker" and "behold the consequences of your actions"

Adam doesn't like fire -> The Creature's big number involves him setting fire to the fight ring that captured him so, I mean, I rather think he likes fire lol

Heterosexual Clerval -> Henry in this is gay, he is so gay, he is unbelievably gay. More people have to listen to "In Your Dreams" and tell me that Henry is so gay for Victor and people have to listen to "Life in a Glass of Liquor" and tell me those two are so gay for each other fr fr

Anyway, while this definitely isn't the best Frankenstein adaptation, it's definitely one of my favorites XD

[thevindicativevordan]

Comics this week?

Doomsday Special - Regret to share that this ruled and Doomsday is cool now. Hell just being the equivalent of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber for Doomsday is peak cape comics, and I loved how Watters nailed the ending toeing the line between "happy" and "fucked" because this is of course a Superhero story set in Hell. Bloodwynd backup was great too, glad to see Watters will be writing more of him in Action. Despite Williamson's repeated failures with events, I can't help being excited for the big Brainiac storyline coming considering how methodically everyone has been building up to it.

Gotham War: Battle Lines - Holy shit this sucked. Catwoman's plan is incredibly stupid and is a prime example of writing for Twitter. Rich people can just leave Gotham, and they will if the cops or the Bats don't protect them! Then what do you do with this army of world-class thieves you created? The Zur plotline is the only reason I'm even moderately interested, but I'm just going to read the Batman issues.

Ultimate Invasion #3 - A comic where a bunch of shadowy people running the world get together and moralize at each other is the most Hickman story imaginable... but I'm not really feeling this. My concern is that Hickman has spent a lot of time worldbuilding the Maker's warped timeline, but it all feels pretty pointless if this ends with Kang undoing everything. Did not see 6160 Reed being this reality's version of Doom, we've only got one issue left which is a bummer because I am dying to know more about how Maker and this Reed have been interacting with each other.

Blade #2 - Blade gets laid and fires a gun that shoots demon fists at a Yakuza hit squad, this shit rules unbelievably hard.

Incredible Hulk #3 - Hulk telling Charlie to fuck off does set a different baseline from how he treated Jackie - and unlike Rick or Jackie she seems built to be Hulk's friend and Bruce's foe - and he gets to kick the crap out of Cthulhu which is gorgeously drawn by Klein. This book feels like a balancing act between the horror of Ewing and bombast of Cates, thus far it manages to serve both masters. Was that reference to a golden green-eyed god intended as the One Below All? PKJ has me very curious to learn what the story is between OBA and Mother of Horrors.

W0rldtr33 #5 - Tynion described this as his attempt at a Stephen King novel and here we get to see him lay out the scope of the book. Seems like it all ends in tears. Christ those pages, you know the ones I'm talking about, are some of the most fucked up shit ever. Can't wait for the next issue.

[geraskierbrainrot]

This is a collection of modern AUs where Geralt, Jaskier, or both do porn

Do No Harm by @grassylampshade | E | 3k

“Why are you here?” Geralt’s voice is unbelievably deep, a growl that resonates differently in person than it does through Jaskier’s tinny laptop speakers. Jaskier clears his throat and says, “I need your help.”

Jaskier wants to improve his stamina and Geralt is willing to lend him a hand.

Socially Acceptable Ways to Meet Your Soulmate by @elpiething | E | 4k

Jaskier's parents weren't precisely keen on their oldest Omega child going to Oxenfurt to learn art. So they told him to pay off his own student debt. Which means they can't technically get mad at him for going in for a camera test at Vengeance Studios. - An AU where Alphas can't knot without medical assistance. Or their soulmate.

(we should just kiss) like real people do by @thewalrus-said | E | 6k

Jaskier is a dime-a-dozen independent porn star with a party trick. The mononymous Geralt, owner and star of Rivia Studios, is one of the greats in the industry. So Jaskier is a little surprised when Geralt contacts his agent to set up a scene together. Surprised, but very, very willing. (A porn stars AU.)

your two tongue kisses by @krytella | E | 7k

It’s not like Jaskier would want to be in the scenes with Geralt. That’s all highly choreographed, completely stripped of romanticism. No, what Jaskier fantasizes about is ridiculously sappy by anyone’s standards: kissing him, wrapping their bodies around each other in shapes that don't angle to the camera, running fingers through his hair, touching him when he’s not hard, or not to keep him hard, just for pure pleasure. Or: Jaskier is a porn cameraman and Geralt is his favorite performer. Probably not the porn AU you were looking for.

I Can't Take My Eyes Off You by JustSimpleThings | E | 7k

Jaskier is a porn star who can't stop staring at the fit new camera man. The situation spells 'trouble'.

boogie nights by spqr | E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 8k

“This isn’t nothing.” His eyebrows draw together. “Jaskier. What happened?” Jaskier fists his hands in his own hair and contemplates pulling it out. “I got shot.” “Shot,” Geralt echoes, in a tone Jaskier’s never heard before. “Only a bit,” Jaskier hedges. “I took some vicodin, it’s perfectly fine. I can hardly feel it.”

Sweet by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG | E | 8k

Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo Prompt: rough

They Were Roommates by Nowaki | E | 11k

Geralt finds Jaskier’s porn. A surprising amount of the videos are about him.

Geraskier OnlyFans AU series by @ghostlyfallows | 19k

→ The Tower of the Swallow | M | 2k

The man had a very handsome face. His face wasn’t exactly a problem - Jaskier was used to keeping his cool in front of many beautiful and handsome people. The problem was this wasn’t the first time he’d seen this face. More specifically, the problem was: the last time Jaskier had seen this face, it was when he’d confirmed the $11.99 purchase for a month’s subscription to his OnlyFans.

Geralt opened his mouth - that mouth jesus holy fucking christ on a stick - and Jaskier stuck his hand out for a hand shake.

“Julian Pankratz,” he introduced himself, praying to whatever god was listening that his face hadn’t turned an embarrassing shade of red.

Judging from the look on Yennefer’s face, he wasn’t so lucky.

Geralt nodded, not betraying even a hint of a smile. He shook his hand back and answered in a gruff voice, “Geralt.”

But of course, Jaskier already knew that.

→ Baptism of Fire | E | 5k

A continuation of my previous fic, in which Geralt is an OnlyFans creator and Jaskier is his (simp) twitter manager

→ Weak and Wanting | E | 7k

Not surprisingly, Geralt didn’t budge. “Jaskier, how much have you had to drink?” he demanded after Jaskier’s palms bounced off of his chest. “It’s not the alcohol! I’m serious! It's like you have no understanding of the stages to these kinds of things. I’ve seen you naked and talked you through fucking yourself but I haven’t even kissed you yet.” Jaskier clapped a hand over his mouth. “On second thought, I didn’t say that. Stop it, Geralt, why are you laughing?” The corners of his mouth still twitched, but he did his best to hide his mirth for Jaskier’s sake. “So, you do want to kiss me?” Geralt’s head tilted to the side. Despite his confident posture, he seemed...stiff. He had the nerve to look embarrassed. Jaskier clenched his hands into fists. “Are you hesitating?” Jaskier seethed. “You’ve been playing all these games, but you have the nerve to be shy about it? Let me repeat myself, since you want to act all coy: I’ve seen your cock. You called me while you were - while you were fingering yourself to ask me to help. Why the hell are you looking at me like that? Of course I want to kiss you.”

→ Give Me One Good Movie Kiss (give me one good honest kiss and I'll be alright) | E | 4k

"It was...different from any other job he’d taken. Certainly a step up from backbreaking labor for minimum wage. At least he was making tips. He’d never worked a job with tips before. Geralt clicked his cellphone into the tripod by his bed and stripped his t-shirt over his head. He tossed it, along with his jeans and boxer briefs, into his clothing hamper in the corner. Usually, his audience liked a show. He’s learned to tease, make them wait, instead of turning the camera on fully nude with his cock hard in his hand. He got all dressed up just to slowly peel the clothes away. It was an art form, he’d learned over the past few months. Nothing like the clumsy or cheesy fumbling he believed it to be when he first signed up for an account. It was more like dancing. He’d never been good at dancing, but he was good at sex, and that counted for something in this profession." AKA The Bottoming Video from Geralt's POV

Electric Kisses and Lace by SweetestHoney | E | 21k

What Jaskier expected from parent-teacher night was some demanding parents, some stupid questions, and maybe some gossip about a few of the couples. What he got, however, was Geralt, father to one of his students, letting him know that he knew about Jaskier's second job and threatening to tell the school that Jaskier was a gay porn star. How does Jaskier handle this little revelation? Anything but gracefully, of course. Or that one where Jask is on onlyfans and Geralt calls him out on it, leading to the worlds stupidest morons being dumb at each other for 20,000 words straight.

Show love to all these authors by leaving kudos and comments, and happy reading!

[soul-dwelling]

Do you think Okhubo having Shinra revive everyone and it being a happy end is a direct response to the non ending of the soul eater manga which left many things uresolved or just returned to the status qou?

Oh, I'm going to be awhile with this...

(*sets out green tea to power me through this long reply...and sets out a swear jar*)

Short answer:

No, I don't think it was a direct response. If anything, it was Ohkubo doing the same kind of ending, in which things are rushed, little is explained, story potential is left unspent because it's the finale and we have no more time, rather than using Fire Force to answer stuff not answered in Soul Eater it raises more questions that are more about how this undermines the mission statement of each series.

And I debate whether we should even call this a "happy ending."

And yet, even as this is a return to a status quo of having these characters still alive, it is an ending that drastically changes their world, their abilities, and their relationships--but as it is the end of the series, that again is left hanging for whatever future story Ohkubo tells or, better yet, what fans end up making for themselves (...including just ignoring Fire Force as a prequel and making better Soul Eater fics explaining this shit).

Long answer:

I didn't think of Shinra reviving everyone and it being a happy ending are a direct response to Soul Eater leaving things unresolved.

(I also don't think of it as a happy ending anyway, but I'll get to that.)

If anything, the ending of Fire Force, with Shinra reviving everyone, seemed like yet another way Ohkubo trolls the fans:

"Oh, you're upset about the lack of answers as to how Lord Death got here, the 800 years between Asura's defeat and now, and the larger societal structure of the Witches? Well, screw that, and screw you, too: I'm going to give you the most unsatisfying origin story for Lord Death, skip the 800 years stuff, and just make up some crap about how witches were created without actually delving into their society! So there! Ha!"

(*groans* Some of us just wanted a spinoff that would address these questions; instead, we got a prequel no one asked for--and I don't mean Soul Eater NOT.)

Also, if anything, Shinra reviving everyone also seemed like a way for Ohkubo to wrap up Fire Force in a way similar to how he wrapped up Soul Eater: deus ex machina to wrap up the story, not let people die.

Spirit, Marie, et al are about to be trapped on the Moon? Eh, just have Maba do a last-minute teleportation. It's not unbelievable, and it at least matches the power set Maba had all along--except, that means she likely could have done that at any point. Hell, Kid was separated from the Moon and had to race back to get there--why didn't Maba teleport him? "Maybe Maba has to recharge each time? I mean, Free wasn't very good at doing the teleportation spell, either." Fine, sure, go with that. "Maybe she can't keep teleporting people when they need to be there to keep fighting the Clowns and Asura?" Okay, fine. At least with Soul Eater, you could come up with excuses.

But Fire Force? Oh, no, it is just straight-up a literal deus ex machina, as if rubbing it into readers' faces that this story that keeps debasing religion as bad storytelling will itself weaponize bad storytelling to just end this series on a dissatisfying note.

Like, I appreciate Ohkubo putting in the setup: Shinra saw Akitaru and Vulcan and Kurono's skull motifs and used that for Lord Death; his understanding of the pre-Cataclysm world is vague so of course things look more cartoony when he tries to remake that world.

But it is also so hamfisted. Why would Shinra be inspired specifically by the skull stuff and not Akitaru's more paternal qualities, and why would he use his tormentor Kurono as a basis? How the hell does Shinra's actions somehow end up to the exact reformation of the world's nations as they were before, 800 years after Shinra dies, and how the hell does that lead to 800 years later Al Capone, JFK, Rasputin, Jack the Ripper, and Lupin all being alive in this world, again, 800 years after Shinra dies?

So, less "a direct response to the non-ending" and more "return to the status quo--because screw you, this is the end, let's wrap this up."

I know I hate on Fire Force--a lot. And it's not like a Doctor Who "everybody lives" ending can't be good. But that ending didn't work for me in Fire Force.

The ending clashed with what I thought was the message this manga was going for. It is not as if the series did not start with a focus on death--but instead of accepting that death is a part of real life, it did a pointless reset.

Like, Shinra brought back everyone, even people who died 250+ years ago (...including some bad dudes which, no, sorry, fuck those people, they can stay dead, Inka can stay fucking dead). But just because they are now treating Death himself as more cute and cuddly (...except they didn't: that is still his Old Death design, so even that didn't work--this is still the same Old Death who is going to end up cursing up a storm at Arachne while hunting her down to slaughter her), they are still going to die.

"But now they won't feel so bad about dying!" Then who fucking cares about resurrecting them? What, so they can die in peace? Are we then implying this is for their own mental health? But they're dead, why would their mental health matter now? Or, is this implying they get to rest in peace, hence have an afterlife? But we just established that God didn't exist until Shinra made Lord Death, so, again, what afterlife? Or, are we suggesting there is a separation between a concept of "God" and an afterlife?

(See why I can't stand Ohkubo's writing? This isn't "the art is beautiful because it leads to more questions that thereby make the writing better"; it's "the writing is vague, there are no answers, whatever answers you get will contradict other messages in the story; this is all a mess, the writer didn't care, the editor didn't care, so I guess you can just enjoy the pretty images and stick to fan works.")

These characters will all die eventually. Hell, even Lord Death died. Why should I care that Shinra brought them back to life just to die again? At least their living again is to let them do something better in this world--except, again, Shinra even resurrected some bad people, and thanks to him saving Inka her bullshit is going to start up again, and there are those fan theories that the White Hoods he resurrected led to Kishin worshippers and Medusa and other baddies, so, again, why bother resurrecting these people except for "Shinra wanted it that way, he is a flawed person like anyone, that's all, move on"?

I understand Fire Force was trying to say something about despair--and instead of facing realities, it said, "Fine, we'll change the laws of physics itself and escape this nonsense." In any other story, maybe that works, if you leaned even more into the idea that this is a work of fiction, the characters know it (as Viktor and Tamaki toyed with in...that abysmal "underage Tamaki is the universal symbol of sex," which, fuck, Ohkubo can fuck off), and so we are showing that art can create realities that show us the world we can have, more than the world we are stuck with.

But that still seems like such a violation of the initial mission statement of Fire Force (protect lives, tend to the survivors and their survivors' guilt) and how it ended ("This was all a Soul Eater prequel, death doesn't matter [unless you're Joe Buttataki, Granny, Lord Death, Justin, Medusa...]"). Maybe I need to accept that I misread the mission statement to Fire Force: after all, it wasn't just "protect lives," it was a message from Akitaru to Shinra that Shinra took to its most extreme (extremist? fundamentalist?) level, that being to not just protect life but to resurrect it...until people die anyway, so... *shrug* they didn't have to die in fires, so that is better to die in a cool and exciting way by some dragon or other beast that Ogun sees before looking back at Shinra and saying, "You really thought this entire frightening world was a better alternative?!"

As for whether the Fire Force ending was a return to a status quo: I mean, not quite?

Sure, everyone who died in the entire series, even in flashbacks, is back--but they aren't the same. That means it's not a return of the status quo: it's the return of these characters, only they are different, as are their interactions with each other (more on Maki and Takehisa, and Shinra, Iris, and Inca, in a moment).

If anything, that is more disappointing, albeit a problem with the endings to a lot of series: untapped potential. Fire Force in that regard did end on a high: we are curious where things go next...sort of. Like, there are great pieces of setup there for the 800+ years between Fire Force and Soul Eater to see how witch society develops, whether people mutated by their resurrection such as Huang lead to new species of people, how on earth this planet goes from looking like the Fire Force world to looking pretty much like our current world (only with Death City now existing).

But then you think, "Wait, we know what comes next: Soul Eater. So who cares?" I know that a lot can happen in 800+ years--but we already know what does happen. And that somehow still doesn't answer those questions I asked earlier, such as what witch society is actually like. We're teased that Inka is a start of that witch society--but that doesn't make sense, one person doesn't start a society, one person is there, then meets other people, then all of those people start a society. Show that story. But, no, _that_ is the status quo: Ohkubo still won't explain shit.

As for the other status quo change: character relationships. Shinra and Arthur are now more respectful of each other...but who cares, that relationship is now done. We hint that Maki and Takehisa are now an item--but who cares, Maki is off shopping with Lisa or something, that's just an empty throwaway line. Good for Maki getting to go shopping, why the fuck aren't we still seeing her honoring her commitments to protect the world along with her colleagues? Okay, fine, Tamaki and Juggernaut get to enjoy a date--but the world is still fucked, how come they lose their powers and don't get to help out?

And of course the inane Shinra / Iris / Inka love triangle bullshit for the sake of a dumb harem gag and the series just making Inka the fucking worst. It's an ending that says things are different--then doesn't answer how. When more readers wasted their time on the last chapter asking whether those two people were Shinra's kids or Arthur's kid or Inka's kid, who gives a fuck?

Maybe the anime will answer that, depending on how they color their hair or re-do the designs or just, I don't know, toss in words in dialogue or on screen identifying who those people are.

But I have zero confidence that will help: this is still a fandom that thinks "X character from Fire Force has a similar design to Y character from Soul Eater--must be related!" These are the same people who still think Kid and Shinra look alike because the story said so--when, no, they fucking don't.

(And yes, I did suggest certain Fire Force characters may have been ancestors to Medusa, Maba, etc--that is more about the thematics coinciding with the visual imagery, not "Ogun and Kilik look alike," which, no, stop that.)