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moonlinos · 2 months

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Don’t let me love you (Siren part II)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, friends with benefits to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, mentions of smoking, drinking, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm delay/denial, sex toys, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, choking (only a little tho)

♡ Word count: 15.7k

♡ Synopsis: Hyunjin has been a camboy since he turned eighteen and a host since the age of twenty. His life and line of work had him building up a fortress of walls to keep himself safe, but he’s powerless as he watches you unknowingly break them down. Although he knows you deserve better than him, he battles with a selfish desire that wants nothing more than to allow himself to love you.

♡ A/N: Part two of what was supposed to be a one-shot, but people made my brain think things and I wrote 15.7K WORDS. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people actually wanted a part two of something I wrote, so I wanna say thank you 🩷

← part I

Your situation with Hyunjin has been going on for almost eight months now.

Some things have changed; he’s undoubtedly more clingy with you, and you started hanging out with no intentions of having sex. What remains unchanged, however, is the fact that he’s still the same old egotistical idiot.

The thing is, you somehow grew to like that about him. It’s amusing to you just how much he loves himself, gloating about his conquests at the club or bragging about maintaining his number-one spot on the camming website. Although this only makes you even more certain you would never entertain the idea of being with someone like him, having the man who makes you come so hard also make you laugh just as much is a nice bonus.

Hyunjin began coming over to your apartment around two months ago, gradually wearing down your resistance with a lot of pestering until you finally let him in. Your home was almost sacred to you. Hooking up in his apartment was one thing, doing that in the familiarity of your home made it feel almost too intimate. You’ve fucked on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the shower, but you never allow him into your bedroom. You’re not entirely sure why, but it would feel as if you were tainting your favorite place if he were to fuck you in your bed.

You’re getting ready for a date in your bathroom with Hyunjin sitting on the floor behind you, claiming the view of your ass from that angle was optimal. He lets out a loud chuckle as he watches you dab yet another layer of concealer on the hickey he left on your collarbone earlier tonight.

“Fuck off,” you snap at him. “You think this is funny?”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it is,” he simply says, and you see him shrugging in the mirror, a grin tugging at one corner of his lip.

Hyunjin has the maddening habit of marking you. Although you told him numerous times how much you hate it, he conveniently ignores that when you have sex, and you’re always too clouded by lust to say anything about it.

“What are you doing on your livestream tonight?” You ask after finally making the small, red blotch on your skin imperceptible.

Watching Hyunjin cam has become your go-to de-stressing method after work. Sitting in a corner far away from the camera, you watch him do his job with ease, like it’s second nature to him. It’s almost intoxicating how he seems to always know what to say to get his viewers going, knowing exactly when to be mean and when to play the role of a caring boyfriend. It makes you clench around nothing, hungrily watching as he makes himself come all over his stomach so deliciously it has you eager to be fucked as soon as he’s done.

He hums. “Well, they really seemed to like the toys I tried last weekend, so I guess that’s what I’m doing for the next few weeks.”

“Ooh, so you’re sticking to the toys now,” you tease him with a grin.

Last Saturday, you watched as Hyunjin opened fan gifts he had received in his PO box during his livestream. Some were extremely questionable (if you had a nickel for every time he pulled out used panties from a box, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice), while some were exactly what you would expect to be sent to a camboy. A variety of BDSM gear, kinky costumes fans wanted him to wear, and of course, a lot of sex toys.

Hyunjin shrugs again, leaning on his left hand and staring up at you through the mirror. “I kinda have to do whatever my viewers want to keep my number one ranking.”

“And are you going to the club tonight?”

“Nah,” he yawns and rests his head against the wall. “Took the day off. My spot there is secured,” his lips upturn into a grin. “No other guy at that club can compete with me.”

That’s another thing you learned about Hyunjin these past months; his club and website rankings are extremely important to him. You also learned he has an Only Fans account on the side where he shares videos and pictures of himself, and he pesters you about making any type of content with him every couple of weeks. You were tempted after seeing the enticing amount of money that was in it for you, but your decision was unswayed.

Your confidence wasn’t like his. You’re sure having your performance and appearance scrutinized by strangers would make you go insane.

Nonetheless, you struggle to conceal your jealousy toward Hyunjin’s jobs, as they seem so damn perfect in your eyes. How great would it be if you could essentially work only when you felt like it? Not to mention the fact that both his jobs are basically having orgasms and looking pretty, which certainly seems heavenly when compared to your headache-inducing corporate job.

He even delayed the starting time of his livestream tonight for the sole purpose of tormenting you while you get ready.

Jihoon is your first proper date in almost a year, as you only allowed yourself the luxury of dating after getting the promotion you were working for. He’s in your company’s finance department, and you two have been casually flirting for three months. You tried your best to ignore him for a couple of weeks, but not only was he ridiculously good-looking, he was also the breathing definition of boyfriend material. He was kind, holding doors open and helping other workers carry heavy boxes with a smile on his face. He was caring, always arriving at the office with coffee for his coworkers, having memorized everyone’s order.

Not to mention the whispered rumors that echoed through the hallways of the ninth floor. Your friend, who had recently moved into the finance department, shared them with you after a drunken night out. Jihoon was apparently amazing in bed, all while being a perfect gentleman. The perfect blend of rough and sweet, and never one to kiss and tell — all these rumors apparently coming from women in his department who had dated him and couldn’t keep themselves from gushing about their unforgettable experience with him.

But it would be a lie to say you were excited about this date because of him.

It was the prospect of how much this could vex Hyunjin that really got you eager.

A couple of nights ago, you joked with Hyunjin about how Jihoon was the complete antithesis of him, hence why he was the ideal candidate for a boyfriend. Hyunjin’s reaction was exactly what you anticipated, with him becoming visibly annoyed and grumbling about how Jihoon probably talks a big game but does the bare minimum in bed.

You simply laughed because the mere thought that another man could be just as good, if not better, than him in bed was what ticked Hyunjin off. Never mind that you said Jihoon was perfect because he was everything he was not.

“You know,” Hyunjin suddenly says, “We should make a bet.”

And you hesitate for a beat and a half because you know Hyunjin.

Still, you sigh and answer, “Sure. What kind of bet?”

“If this guy is really that good in bed, then I’ll pay for your next date myself,” he vows, his smirk only growing as you turn to look at him through the mirror. “If he’s average, you go on a date with me.”

You silently look at him for a few seconds before laughter bursts out of you.

“Hyunjin, do you fucking hate me?” You ask, turning your body toward him. “I get shitty sex then have to endure a date with you?”

He shrugs, rising to stand in front of you. “This just proved to me how much faith you have in your date,” he calmly says. He then leans into you, caging you against the countertop, hands beside your body. Hyunjin bends his face to yours, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks, “Just admit you know no guy will ever be a better fuck than me.”

You scoff at his arrogance, pushing him until his back hits the wall.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Hyunjin follows you when you leave the bathroom to grab your purse in the living room, loudly clicking his tongue behind you.

“Why’d you dress up for him?” He huffs, and you turn to look at him with a raised brow. “This fucking short dress and shit.” He rakes his eyes over your body from head to toe, tugging at his bottom lip. “I should make you dress up for me, too. You look hot.”

By now, you’ve learned that the best course of action to follow when dealing with Hyunjin’s monumental ego is to ignore it altogether. It’s also quite entertaining to purposefully give him answers you know will vex him, so you sweetly smile at him.

“Thank you,” you beam, your fingers toying with the hem of your short dress, pulling up the fabric. “Hopefully Jihoon thinks the same.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. He harshly presses his lips to yours, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His tongue pushes past your lips, brushing against your own. It’s almost like an act of possessiveness — leaving his taste on your tongue before you go off to your date with another man.

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. But just as you’re getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the sound of your doorbell echoes through the room, and your eyes widen. Pulling away, you promptly push Hyunjin back and wipe the corners of your mouth. You stifle a chuckle when your eyes land on his face; red lipstick smudged all over his lips.

“Stay in the bathroom until I leave,” you tell him while grabbing your purse from the couch. He rolls his eyes again, this time with a scowl contorting his features.

You smile at Jihoon when you open your door. Barely giving him the chance to say hello, you hurry him toward the elevator, reminding him of your reservation. You know Hyunjin, and you wouldn’t put it past him to show up behind you simply to stir up some drama.

But that’s the thing; you know Hyunjin, yet you still choose to stay in this strange arrangement with him. Because it’s the fact that you know him, for some reason you’re unsure of yourself, that makes you actually like him a little bit.

Hyunjin ends his livestream as usual, saying goodnight with a promise of seeing his viewers again tomorrow night. He never acknowledges tips and addresses no one by their name or username. Some cammers wear masks to conceal their identities — this cavalier persona, uncaring and nonchalant, is Hyunjin’s mask.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he goes on to do the arduous task of cleaning up the fleshlight he used tonight. It was a gift from a viewer, who begged him — with quite a lot of tips — to use it for her. What was initially meant to be a one-time thing has now become his new routine, as his viewers couldn’t get enough of it.

Hyunjin hates this part of his camming job: the incessant need to please the people who watch him, lest they abandon him and move on to a new cammer. He doesn’t mind the sex toys — although cleaning them makes him want to throw his entire collection out the window — but he’s had to do a lot of shit he really didn’t want to, all in the name of maintaining his number one spot.

He was eighteen when he first started. In desperate need of money after moving out of home for college, one of his friends suggested he sell his nudes to people around campus. When Hyunjin scowled and asked why the fuck that was his first and only suggestion, the boy laughed. He remembers his words to this day:

“Hyunjin, you know you don’t really have anything else other than your looks. Your grades are shit, and you’re lazy as fuck. This is pretty much the only way you can ever make money.”

And by that age, that was nothing new to Hyunjin, as he had heard different variations of that same speech his entire life. When he was a child, his parents urged him to become an idol or a model, going so far as to motivate him to ignore his schoolwork to attend auditions (even when he whined about how much he hated them).

His mother always said his face had the power to make people love him while studying would only lead to success.

“It’s much better to be loved, Hyunjin,” she told him when he was ten. “Anyone can reach success if they try hard enough, but being loved is a privilege only special people can have.”

By his late teens, when his reputation began to precede him after countless hookups during high school, his friends assured him he could make a lot of money off of sex.

Either way, the consensus was always that the only thing Hyunjin had to offer were his looks and body.

At first, he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to be appreciated for anything other than what his face looked like, or how good he was in bed. He got his grades up, excelled in hobbies he actually liked, and even set goals for himself after college. But Hyunjin never heard a word of praise from his parents, and his friends were always more interested in who he was hooking up with than how he got to the top of his class. After a while, he realized he was simply fighting a losing battle.

So he accepted that truth, because it couldn’t hurt him if he were the one to incentivize it.

That was why he decided to follow his friend’s asinine suggestion.

His first endeavor was with simple videos of himself jerking off in front of his mirror, the shitty camera of his phone certainly hindering his attempt at making the whole thing pleasing to the eyes. He would promote them through text messages to acquaintances he’d met at parties at first, later creating a Twitter account dedicated solely to selling these videos. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was certainly more than his friends made while working monotonous shifts at coffee shops.

Only four months later, he coincidentally entered the world of camming through a girl he had been hooking up with.

They were in her bedroom, just about to have sex, when she giggled against his lips and told him she could make a lot of money if he fucked her during one of her livestreams. He said he could make a lot of money if she let him record them fucking.

They ultimately reached an agreement, and Hyunjin appeared on his first-ever livestream that same night — a mask covering both their faces and the money made split evenly between them.

He recalls how his eyes were glued to her computer screen the entire time. He was used to praises and compliments, but there was something different about having a stranger openly say they’d do anything to be in that girl’s place, that they would pay to have him fuck them, or even something as simple as telling Hyunjin how good he was. It had a rush of euphoria cursing through his veins.

It was as if, for the first time in his life, he had found something he was truly good at, something that he was entirely in control of. He was a natural, and he enjoyed every moment of it, easily slipping into the persona he wears to this day.

He got drunk on that validation and was desperate to have it again.

After that night, he created his own account, with many of his hookup’s viewers following him immediately. He dropped out of college soon after he started, as the money he made from camming along with selling his content on Only Fans already exceeded the estimated salary in his field of study.

Hyunjin was good, and he loved being good. Most importantly, he loved knowing he was good.

That’s why he simply ignores the few times he’s had to do things he wasn’t all that keen on doing. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing he’s good at — pleasing people, no matter the cost.

After a long shower, Hyunjin walks back into his room and sinks into his bed. He’s glad he took the day off from his job at the club since a viewer tipped him $300 to edge himself for as long as he could tonight. After an hour of that, the only thing he wants is to curl up in bed and sleep for hours.

He buries himself under his blankets, but just as his eyes flutter closed, the sound of laughter echoes through his room. Your laughter.

He sits up in bed almost immediately, a grin etched onto his lips. He still remembers the day he found out his walls were paper thin; the day you touched yourself while he was streaming. He knew you were so sure you had been quiet — only letting out small whimpers and sighs — but he heard you regardless, and your pretty noises made it even easier for him to come that night. He initially assumed you were simply masturbating, but when you came knocking at his door the very next day to complain about how noisy he was, he knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Hyunjin has fucked many women in his life, but for that silly fact alone, none piqued his interest quite like you did.

He rests his back against the headboard, ready to listen to you complain on the phone to some friend, grumbling about how fucking awful your date had been. But a masculine voice suddenly permeates through the wall, filling his room with the sound of your date’s obnoxious laughter.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he slurs, clearly a bit tipsy.

“Me too,” you giggle, and Hyunjin’s face twists into a scowl. Since when do you giggle like that?

He hastily yanks the covers off his body, rushing to settle into his computer chair in a shameless effort to hear your conversation more clearly.

“Sorry I laughed when you spilled your drink on your dress,” the guy — whose name Hyunjin frankly didn’t care enough to memorize — apologizes before adding, “Do I make you that nervous?”

And it’s like Hyunjin can hear the smirk in the man’s voice. Why the fuck must this annoy him so much? Couldn’t you go back to his place to fuck? Maybe you’re pissed at him over the bet, and this is a desperate attempt to prove you’re right. He scoffs, running a hand through his hair before reclining on the chair.

Just means you’ll be having mediocre sex while he listens.

“Of course I was nervous,” you reply. “Look at you, this shirt’s been driving me crazy since you picked me up.”

The man snickers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you state matter-of-factly, “Kept looking at your arms the entire night. Couldn’t think straight,” your voice drops to a whisper, and Hyunjin could recognize the alluring lilt that envelops your voice from a mile away.

You use it with him almost every night.

Your date hums. “Oh, you like my arms?”

And Hyunjin can just picture the man flexing his muscles. What a fucking idiot.

His room is filled with the creaking sound of your bed, and he physically cringes. He can’t believe you’re really gonna make him listen to you fuck another guy. He especially can’t believe you so easily let this fucker into your bedroom. Hyunjin has known you for eight months, and you still adamantly insist that your bedroom is off-limits.

Maybe this is his long-overdue punishment for making you lose sleep for a month.

Your room suddenly falls into an odd stillness. All Hyunjin can do is sit in the dark, consumed by the incessant ticking of his clock, unable to tear his gaze away from the wall in front of him. His mind becomes his own worst enemy, flooding his imagination with vivid images of you laid out underneath this man, his arms you seemingly love so much caging you between the mattress and his body while his lips explore every inch of your skin. Or maybe you’re on top, rolling your hips in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives Hyunjin mad while looking at him with lust-clouded eyes.

The sound of you softly whimpering shakes him out of his thoughts, and Hyunjin subconsciously clenches his fists. Despite hearing the guy talk to you again, all he makes out is a jumble of garbled, muffled sounds.

He isn’t sure how long he stays there, eyes boring holes into the wall until his vision goes blurry and gnawing on his lips until he tears at the delicate skin. His ears sting with the sound of your bed frame hitting your shared wall, and your sighs and moans he loves so much only seem to mock him.

When the sardonic symphony eventually fades into silence, Hyunjin remains where he is. He feels powerless; he can’t stop how his heart weighs heavy in his chest or do anything but feel the scorching flame of anger searing his veins.

He’s memorized your date’s name by now — Jihoon, as your voice repeatedly called out.

For the first time in so long, Hyunjin was no longer in control.

Hyunjin struggles to conceal his annoyance when you show up at his door the next day as if nothing had happened. The hickey he gave you no longer being concealed by makeup and your ever-present grin only added to his aggravation, as if you were relishing in his agony. He wants nothing more than to fuck that smug grin off your pretty lips, but he can’t bring himself to touch you. Not when his ego is bruised by how easily another man could please you.

After all, that was all Hyunjin had to offer. Why were you even here in the first place? If you had already found someone else to fuck you, he had nothing more to give you.

Sitting on his couch, Hyunjin’s frustration gets the best of him, and he’s the first to break the silence.

“I don’t even gotta ask if you had a good time last night,” he sneers, and you stifle a chuckle, trying but ultimately failing to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, the restaurant was nice.”

Hyunjin can’t contain the scoff that escapes his lips, his mouth curling in disdain. “You know damn well I’m not talking about the restaurant.”

You cock your head to the side, brows knitting together as you put on your best act of naivety.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” You ask, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Hyunjin is pushing your body onto the couch before he realizes what he’s doing, the rage he felt last night no longer laying dormant in his bloodstream. He cages you against the cushions, his hands resting beside your body. You instinctively spread your thighs to accommodate him.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” He asks, bending his face to yours. You shrug with a contented sigh, lifting your arms to wrap around his back.

Hyunjin scoffs, and you let out a yelp as he abruptly hoists your legs over his shoulders, fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs. He leans down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth but pulls away before you can register to kiss him back, leaving you to chase after his touch.

“Is this how he fucked you?” He asks with a hum, his lips hovering mere inches above yours. His hold on your thighs becomes bruisingly tight as he waits for your answer. “Hm? Did he fuck you good?”

“We were both tipsy,” you murmur, breath hitching as he pushes his hardening member against your clothed core. “It was okay.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and Hyunjin mockingly pouts. “So he wasn’t the sex god you were promised, baby?”

You roll your eyes. “I just said it was okay.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his gaze transfixed by the way your eyes look up at him while you subtly roll your hips up into him. He’s not stupid, he knows the reason why you have such an infuriating effect on him. He’s never going to be good enough for you outside of being a good fuck, yet he feels a blooming yearning inside of his chest that makes him selfishly want to keep you to himself. Even if he has nothing else to offer you.

So he chooses to swallow his pride, just this once, to prove to you why you should choose to stay and stop searching for pleasure in other men — because Hyunjin knows you will find much more than that in them. Much more than what he has.

“‘Okay’ isn’t what you deserve,” He tuts, his mind slowly fogging over with desire as you roll your hips harder against his length. “Isn’t what you’re used to after all these months, is it? Hm?” He urges, raising a hand to lightly brush against your jaw before gripping it. “Answer me.”

Hyunjin knows you’re struggling not to give in; that’s one of his favorite things about having sex with you. The push and pull, how you try so hard to act tough and unbothered but ultimately melt under his touch every time. Even so, he was only able to truly break you for the first time a couple of months ago. You’re obstinate, he’ll give you that.

You shrug again, and he knows it’s the only answer he’ll get from you for now.

“Are you gonna see him again?” He asks instead.

You let out a quiet sigh as Hyunjin lazily grazes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t think so.”

“Yeah?” He asks, arching a brow almost knowingly. “I can’t help but think you only brought him home to make me listen to you.”

And you giggle at that. The same overly sweet, coy giggle Hyunjin heard through his wall last night.

“I guess you’ll never know,” you simply answer, running a hand through his hair and lightly gripping a fistful while your eyes flicker down to his lips.

Hyunjin wastes no more time talking to you — he knows your conversations usually lead nowhere. He crashes his lips into yours, fingers gripping your jaw once more and forcing your lips open, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You whimper into the kiss, a sound he knows slipped past your lips unwittingly. Your tongue swirls against his, and he savors your taste with a low hum.

You tilt your hips up, chasing after him again and whining when Hyunjin moves out of reach. He smiles.

“You want me to give you what you’re used to?” He asks against your lips, and you’re quick to nod. “So fucking greedy, made me listen to you get fucked last night only to come running back to me.” He slides his hands under your ass and picks you up effortlessly, carrying you toward his bedroom with an exasperated sigh. “Would’ve been easier if you just admitted no guy will ever be as good as me, wouldn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, but your words are cut short as Hyunjin throws you onto his bed and promptly walks to his wardrobe. “At least Jihoon got to it quick. I’m not one of your viewers, I don’t care much for your chatter.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh, retrieving a small blue box from among his clothes and sitting at the edge of the bed. “He got to it quick? Is that your way of telling me your date was a one-minute man?”

You open your mouth as if you’re ready to refute him but ultimately close it and cross your arms over your chest, willing him to do something. Hyunjin stifles another laugh.

“Good thing you have me, then,” He mutters, the goading lilt to his voice impossible to disguise. Placing the box on his nightstand, he hovers over your body once again. “I got all these toys, and we never got around to playing with them together.”

You visibly shudder, nodding slowly as Hyunjin looms over you. He slots your lips together once more, this time much more softly. Your tongue lightly brushes against his bottom lip, licking into his mouth as your thighs wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles behind him and drawing his body flush against yours.

With each languid and deliberate stroke of his tongue, Hyunjin revels in the way he can feel you grow more impatient, tugging at the fabric of his shirt and rutting your hips against his. His hands slip under the hem of your shirt to grip your waist, easing your movements. The way his cock strains against his sweatpants becomes impossible to ignore as his hard length presses against your warm core harder and harder with each roll of your hips.

Hyunjin’s hand glides from your waist to your stomach, caressing your skin before finding its way to your cunt, fingers harshly pressing against your clothed wetness. You whimper into the kiss as he lazily circles your clit over the fabric of your shorts.

“Let’s make a deal,” Hyunjin whispers as he pulls away. “You admit I’m the best fuck you’re ever gonna have, and I might let you come.”

He punctuates his words with a firm press of his fingers to your clit, and he can visibly see your resolve crumbling before him, but you still force out an indignant huff.

“In your dreams,” you shakily breathe out.

Hyunjin shrugs, his fingers leaving your core and traveling over the expanse of your stomach. He promptly rids you of your shirt, and you hiss as his hands brush against your sensitive nipples, Hyunjin watching as they immediately stiffen in response.

Your habit of not wearing a bra nearly drives Hyunjin insane — even on the first day you came knocking at his door, he remembers having to fight the urge to glance down at the way your nipples peaked beneath the fabric of your white shirt.

You’ve been driving him crazy since you walked into his line of sight.

Hyunjin lightly massages your breasts before grazing your hardened nipples with his thumbs, swiftly sucking one into his mouth, causing sighs to spill from your lips as your hand tangled in his hair. He flicks the stiff bud with his tongue before grazing his teeth over it, and you roughly tug at his roots. He smiles against your skin, nudging the peak of your nipples with his lips and sighing.

“Say it,” he calmly tells you, but your only response is tugging harder at his hair. “You’re so stubborn,” He chides, tugging his shirt over his head. “I told you, you’re only coming if you fucking admit it.”

He slowly moves onto the foot of the bed, his hands roaming along your legs with featherlight touches. He places wet kisses from your stomach to your inner thighs, sucking lightly at the skin until his lips hovered tantalizingly close to your still-clothed, aching cunt. And then he stops, instead pressing a kiss to your hips.

“Hyunjin,” his name falls from your lips as a breathy whine. He looks up to find your gaze already on him, eyes silently pleading. He grins, thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs as you push your hips into his face, but he promptly pulls away. “Please,” you finally whisper, although barely audibly.

Hyunjin hums, satisfied, pressing a wet kiss to your core through the fabric of your shorts before sliding them down your legs along with your panties. He hisses through his teeth at the sight of your wetness, thumbs gliding up and down your folds before spreading you before him. His tongue immediately pokes out to travel up your slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking harshly, and your hand soon flies to rest on his head.

He lifts his eyes once more, humming against your folds as he finds your head rolled back onto his pillows, lips falling open as you softly mewl. He could listen to your sweet sounds all night, reveling in the way every flick of his tongue made you become louder and louder until you were all but screaming his name.

But he has to teach you a lesson tonight.

His tongue delves deep into you, gliding against your slick inner walls, causing even more arousal to flood his lips. His eyes flutter closed with a pleased hum, lapping up every drop of your wetness.

“Fuck,” you rasp, and Hyunjin knows you’re close.

With a wicked grin, he slips two fingers into your warm cunt, curling them just the way you love while his tongue expertly circles your clit. When you roll your hips against his lips, yanking his head toward your body, Hyunjin pulls away.

He watches as your eyes shoot open and you frown at him, but he simply grins, thumb wiping at his glistening mouth before slipping the digit into your agape lips.

“Say it,” he repeats, unrelenting, and stifles a laugh when you groan loudly.

You hook a leg around his waist, bringing his body close to yours again, the heat of his thick cock pressing against your soaked cunt. Hyunjin sucks in a breath, focusing on reining in his emotions, determined not to let you win. His mind is already completely clouded with lust, desperate to fuck you into the mattress, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of watching him give in to you.

He bends his face to yours, gasping out a curse as he watches the way you swirl your tongue around his finger with a hum, lazily sucking it while maintaining your eyes locked onto his. He presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue, and your lips obediently fall open before upturning into a taunting smile.

You still think you’re in control.

Hyunjin shakes his head, his resolve coming back to him.

His fingers fall from your tongue, and he presses his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss, hands traveling down the expanse of Hyunjin’s abdomen, then back up to wrap around his broad shoulders. He lets you do as you please, rummaging through his box until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, ultimately distracting you, and you let out a small whimper, which grows into a loud groan as he presses the blunt tip of the massaging wand to your clit and switches it to the medium setting.

“What the fuck,” You all but growl into his lips, and Hyunjin hums.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

You let out a shuddering sigh. “T-Too much,” you whimper, hands scrambling for Hyunjin’s arms in an attempt to ground yourself, but ultimately clawing at his bedsheets.

He glides the wand along your drenched folds, moving up and down, eyes transfixed on the way your arousal drips out of you and coats the toy. Your entire body jolts when he harshly presses the vibrating tip directly onto your clit. He could come just by watching you squirm underneath him, loud groans falling from your lips. How he wished Jihoon could be in your room, listening to how beautiful you sound when you’re actually being taken care of properly.

Hyunjin feels his cock twitch every time your body shudders, trying to escape the relentless vibrations, sticky precum gathering in his sweatpants and increasing his discomfort. He desperately wants to fuck you.

With a low grunt, he leans in closer to you, pinning your arm to your side and flicking his wrist as he presses down harder on your swollen clit.

“Got no idea how pretty you sound, do you?” He hisses, “If only you weren’t such a fucking brat and just — fuck.”

His words dissipate when your free hand wiggles between your bodies and pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, squeezing him tightly before frantically stroking him. The sounds that echoed through the room were lewd, unmistakable evidences of both your arousals.

Hyunjin pulls the wand from your clit, turning down the vibrations and letting it rest against one of your peaked nipples while he grips his cock in his fist, the swollen tip prodding at your entrance, just barely pushing in. You whimper loudly, clutching his arm, fingernails digging crescent moons into his pale skin.

“Come on,” he growls, cock now gliding up and down your slit. “I know you wanna come, just fucking say it.”

But you’re unrelenting, staring into his eyes and weakly shaking your head.

Hyunjin stops his movements altogether, his shaft nestled against your soaking cunt, the head of his cock resting heavily on your clit. He presses the wand down onto his length, increasing the intensity to the highest setting. A loud, broken moan falls from your throat as your shaky hands grip his wrist, your back arching off the bed. You try to push the toy away, but Hyunjin’s free hand wraps around your neck, effortlessly pinning your pliant body down onto the mattress.

He presses his forehead to yours, his sweat dripping down onto your breasts as he fights off his orgasm.

“Fucking say it,” he hisses, tears gathering in your lashes. The unyielding vibrations from the wand traveling through his cock and going straight onto your clit, coupled with the way his hand tightens around your throat, finally have every bit of your resolve crumbling.

“You,” you choke out, “Best fuck I’ll ever fucking have, Hyunjin, god — I wanna come, please.”

Hyunjin feels satisfaction enveloping his entire being, and the pleasure intensifies tenfold, his cock twitching and a low groan reverberating from the depths of his chest.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathes out, giving your neck one last squeeze, and your climax erupts from you with a loud cry. As your entire body convulses and your head tilts back, Hyunjin can feel your release coating his cock before dripping onto the sheets below.

As you struggle to catch your breath, your grip on his wrist tightens and your body squirms away from the vibrations, but Hyunjin only presses down harder, seeking his own release. He soon comes with a sigh, eyebrows scrunching together, his cum landing all over your cunt.

He turns off the vibrator, labored breaths mixing with yours as you two come down from your highs.

“You’re fucking insane,” you chuckle after a beat.

And Hyunjin’s lips stretch into a lazy smile. “And you owe me a date.”

You were reluctant at first, having assumed it was simply Hyunjin’s ego talking that night, only teasing you because you were going on a date with someone else when he proposed that odd bet. However, you eventually found out he wasn’t at all joking and actually wanted his ‘prize’ — as he called it — for winning the bet.

Figuring out a date was an aggravating task, given that Hyunjin worked on weekends and you worked on weekdays. You told him numerous times to just let it go; you could simply hang out in his apartment like you usually did and call it a date. It wasn’t anything serious, just another one of his whims.

But Hyunjin’s persistence was unwavering, and he settled for taking yet another day off and canceling his livestream altogether so he could take you out on a Saturday.

Although you weren’t looking forward to it at first, you unknowingly smiled whenever you saw the day marked on your calendar alongside your endless work assignments. It was ridiculous, and you wouldn’t admit it to him, but deep down, you were actually excited about this date. You wanted to know what it’s like to have a conversation that doesn’t end in you two bickering, wanted to know what it feels like to hang out with him without the thought of fucking looming over your heads.

You were strangely excited to get to know Hyunjin outside the four walls of your apartments.

But the Sunday before your date, disappointment washed over you like a cold bucket of water when Hyunjin told you he had to cancel.

What did you expect? You knew Hyunjin. This should’ve been the obvious outcome from the start, but you were stupid and allowed yourself to be swept away by a hope that proved too good to be true.

He waited until he finished his livestream to tell you — as if canceling less than a week before wasn’t already bad enough. Your irritation reached its peak as you sat in his bed and listened to him insist it wasn’t his fault.

“One of the other hosts had a family emergency so he’ll be gone for two weekends,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words. Family emergency. Of course.

“Hyunjin, you say that like you don’t take countless days off with no issues,” you refuted, and his frown deepened while he shook his head.

Just say you don’t wanna go on this stupid date.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like that. We have rules to follow,” he insisted. “Only one host can be absent at a time. I don’t have a valid reason for bailing on Saturday, so I’m forced to go.”

“Or you’ll lose your precious number one spot?”

“Or I’ll lose my fucking job.”

And you simply shrugged as you ultimately realized that was yet another pointless conversation between you. You then went on to have sex, as you always did when confronted with the threat of a serious conversation, and the topic was forgotten.

At least by Hyunjin.

You spend the next days avoiding him to the best of your abilities. Deep down, you know you’re behaving like a child, but the way you allowed yourself to get excited over something as stupid as a date with him still makes you feel pathetic. It’s impossible not to feel like he raised your hopes only for the pleasure of shutting you down. All because you went out with someone else, and you know that was a blow to his ego.

You two have never been anything more than friends who hook up — and even using that term feels almost comical, seeing as you two can’t have a conversation without it turning into a petty argument or an ego battle — but his insistence on this date, and your own eagerness seemed to hint at something more.

Clearly, you were mistaken.

You brought Jihoon back to your apartment hoping to have mind-blowing sex after a nice date. Plus, you knew Hyunjin would hear you, and you terribly wanted to deflate his ego. A win-win situation in your book. Instead, you had mediocre sex at best. Jihoon skipped foreplay entirely, simply pounded into you, and finished far too quickly while leaving you hanging.

Maybe he was too tipsy to perform well, or maybe the women in your office are living in a depressing reality where a guy’s ability to find the clitoris means he’s a god among men. Either way, even after putting on your best performance, Hyunjin still saw right through you.

And the worst part is, even you can’t explain why you did that. Your mind argues it was all for the pleasure of vexing him; he’s been annoying you since he first moved in next door, after all. But your heart is quick to jump in with a list of facts and reasons why that can’t be the case — all while presenting some valid arguments that lead you to believe you might like Hyunjin more than originally planned.

But he was still Hyunjin at the end of the day. Your egotistical idiot neighbor whose fragile ego you hurt, so he’s retaliating.

After three days of successfully ignoring Hyunjin, one of your friends at work makes all your work crumble with a single phrase.

“I can’t believe we still haven’t gone back to The Siren,” she grumbled during lunch, and you stabbed an innocent piece of broccoli with your fork.

That was all it took to ignite your curiosity.

You sit at your desk later in the day and look up that damn club, telling yourself you simply want to find out why your friends are so desperate to go there. This has nothing to do with Hyunjin.

Upon entering their website, you realize The Siren wasn’t a nightclub as you had imagined; it’s an elegant lounge with a lavish-looking bar you’re sure charged $5 for a bottle of water. As you read the club’s About Us page, the entrance fee almost has you choking on your coffee, despite it being expected for such a place. Among several rules, one catches your eye:

The club allows a maximum of twenty attendees per night, offering a choice of twenty-five hosts.

You gnaw on your bottom lip at the realization that perhaps Hyunjin wasn’t lying, and that was the reason only one host could be absent at a time.

Eventually, you find your way to the Hosts section of the website. You’re a bit taken aback by how these men are presented as amenities, like products displayed at an online shop, with nothing but their names and a picture along with their price.

They’re divided into tiers: gold, emerald, and platinum. Hosts in the gold tier are younger, most likely having just started on the job, and their prices are the most affordable. The emerald tier is more expensive, with some hosts who look old enough to be your father. The disturbing realization dawns on you that these men’s values diminish as they age.

On the platinum tier, only five hosts are displayed, and you blanch at each of their unique prices. Hyunjin is the most expensive, at $500, excluding extra fees. You click on his black and white picture, and a myriad of photos of Hyunjin flood your screen. You’re struck by how different he looks in these shots; his styled hair and impeccably tailored suits look nothing like the man you see at your apartments every day, lounging around in sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

A description sits at the top of the page, short but still enough to make you grimace.

Hyunjin has held our club’s esteemed number-one position for two consecutive years now, and rightfully so. Complementing his striking good looks is an alluring personality that will make you feel cherished throughout the evening. His undivided attention will undoubtedly meet your satisfaction, and his additional services will leave you breathless.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting — you were already aware of the nature of Hyunjin’s job as a host — but the club’s portrayal of these people as mere products leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your curiosity has morphed into frustration as you return to the homepage, but a message catches your eye just as you’re about to exit the website. Three spots are now available for Saturday night due to the absence of one of their hosts. And before you can even process your actions, you’ve already booked these spots for you and two friends.

Thank you for choosing to unwind at The Siren! We will contact you individually regarding further details, including host orders.

Host orders? That is enough to make you close the website.

You can’t believe you’re going to do this. You know for a fact Hyunjin will be upset, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he wants to toy with your emotions, you have every right to show up at this club.

You wait for Hyunjin to leave for work to get ready on Saturday. You weren’t able to avoid him this afternoon and spent the day lazying around in your apartment, binge-watching some new reality TV show he’s obsessed with.

You expected Hana and Naeun to eat you alive for buying tickets to this overpriced club without consulting them first, but their excitement overshadowed any anger they had. You also played up your excitement, although, by the time your shift had ended, you mostly felt regret for spending all that money purely out of spite.

The email you received explains The Siren has a strict dress code, not allowing any client in unless they’re dressed to their standards.

The patrons are required to match our club’s overall atmosphere.

You rolled your eyes. At least their arrogance fit their ostentatious price.

As you skim through their several other rules, you find out that booking a host isn’t mandatory, and often, hosts will seek out patrons themselves if they’re free for the night.

Be prepared to be approached by one of our available hosts at any given moment. Should you be fortunate enough to capture their attention, that is.

Among the rules, you’re also explicitly told that tipping the hosts anything beyond their set prices is strictly forbidden. The more you learned about this club, the more you struggled to understand why Hyunjin held it in such high esteem.

You bring out your best dress from the back of your closet, hoping you ‘matched the club’s overall atmosphere.’ You let out a heavy sigh as you make it past the What Not to Wear crew guarding the entrance alongside the bouncer, and you are officially in.

“This is your first time here, right?” Hana asks you, linking your arms together. You nod, and she grins before adding, “You’re in for a treat.”

The Siren is exactly what you saw in the pictures, only the dim glow of purple neon lights illuminating the extravagant chandeliers, corner sofas, and opulent decorations you know cost more than your month’s rent.

The owner herself personally escorts every single patron to their seats — a tradition spanning over a decade since the club was first inaugurated. Briefly introducing herself as Taeyeon, the beautiful woman leads you through a long corridor adorned with the hosts’ pictures on the walls. Finally, you arrive at a sofa, where a champagne bottle nestled in an ice bucket already waits for you. She informs Naeun that the host she ordered for the night will be a bit late due to personal reasons, before bidding you goodbye with a smile.

You awkwardly shift in your seat as Hana leaves to fetch you drinks from the bar, and your eyes scan the lounge as it slowly fills up with people. You notice a few of the men you saw on the website parading around the club, a grin etched onto their lips as they lock eyes with a few of the patrons. Other hosts are already tending to their ‘dates,’ sitting beside them on the sofas and attentively listening with warm smiles.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said his job was making lonely women feel wanted.

The club itself is rather boring without the satisfaction of a host pampering you. The slow jazz music playing softly in the background makes you feel almost drowsy, and the dim lighting does little to help. For an hour, you watch as hosts come and go. Some lead their clients toward the bar area, partaking in drinking games with other clients and hosts. Others guide women up the black, shimmering staircase at the back of the club, leaving you to wonder where they could possibly be off to. Thankfully, you’ll have Hana to keep you company when Naeun undoubtedly disappears off to somewhere with the host she ‘ordered.’

Your gaze falls on the sofa in front of you, where a host’s dimpled smile lights up his face as he playfully strokes a woman’s cheek, eliciting a shy giggle from her lips before she continues her story. His intense gaze remains fixed on her face, his hand soothingly trailing down her back while he nods, seemingly enthralled by their conversation. It would be a lie to say coming here after a tiring week at work wouldn’t seem like stepping into a dream. Even if it’s all a well-constructed lie, having a handsome guy cater to your every need and listen to you complain without uttering a word is almost fucking idyllic.

Your eyes then wander toward the back of the club, where a small group of hosts is huddled around a circular table, quietly laughing among themselves. Sitting at the center, Taeyeon’s intent gaze oversees her club’s activities while engaged in a heated phone conversation, her scowl deepening with each word she mutters.

You assume these hosts weren’t booked for the night or are still waiting for their clients to arrive. Just as you’re about to advert your gaze, Hyunjin emerges from a door on the left. His hair is meticulously styled, slicked back to reveal his gorgeous face, and his tall figure is dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked neatly under an expensive-looking black blazer.

Hyunjin has always been beautiful in your eyes, but seeing him exude so much confidence stirs up something inside of you.

His mere presence captivates you so strongly you find it impossible to look away, even as his gaze meets yours. A look of utter bewilderment washes over his face as he stills his movements, looking almost startled. You two fall into an impromptu staring contest as if you’re attempting to communicate with your eyes alone until Naeun taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your haze.

“He’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?”

Your brows knit together. “What?”

“The host you’re ogling at,” Naeun giggles, “I saw him on their website the first time we came here, but I was too late so I couldn’t get him to myself. I’m so glad you asked us to come tonight ‘cause I got to order him before he was booked,” she explains, and you feel as if all the air has frozen in your lungs. Hyunjin is the host your friend ordered. “I’m fucking broke now, but I know it’ll be worth it.”

You inwardly grimace at how she talks about Hyunjin, almost like he’s only a shiny toy she couldn’t buy in the past. That, coupled with how booking a host is so casually referred to as ordering, makes you feel a bit nauseous.

Hyunjin eventually walks over to your table, as you knew he would. He’s Naeun’s host for the night, after all. As he slowly strides toward your sofa, his focus remains solely on you. For a split second, his eyes flicker with something akin to sadness before he quickly resumes his usual persona.

He immediately takes Naeun’s hand, kissing her knuckles with half-lidded eyes and a sultry grin. The way he looks at her has the knot in your stomach tightening, aching with the realization that it’s the same way he always looks at you. You were never anything special or significant to each other — you’re well aware of that — but the sting you feel is unbearable for some reason.

Hyunjin sits beside Naeun, and his focus shifts entirely to her. His wandering hands leave a trail of goosebumps from her arms to her bare legs, while his whispered words make her cheeks flush a rosy pink. And it feels as if he’s completely ignoring your presence, which is such a foolish thought you almost feel ashamed. This is his job, but reminding yourself of that every couple of minutes somehow only makes you feel worse.

Because this isn’t a one-time thing, this happens every single time he works.

At some point, while you were too busy engrossed in Hyunjin and Naeun, Hana got a host of her own. With his bleached blonde hair, a constellation of freckles on his cheeks, and a deep, gentle voice, it seems he’s done his job at captivating her. Each host seems to embody a specific persona. From his less-touchy demeanor to the softness in his eyes when he looks at Hana, it’s clear that this guy is going for the caring boyfriend type.

As you remember how available hosts sometimes approach clients themselves, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. If they’re available, no one has booked them for the night, meaning they won’t earn a single dollar. Their focus will undoubtedly be on finding the wealthiest available patron. Hana came from old money, only working at your company after falling out with her family, but her head-to-toe Chanel attire radiates wealth. It’s no wonder this host so graciously chose to sit beside her.

Eventually, Hana is led to the large bar by her host, and the atmosphere in your little space becomes increasingly uncomfortable for you. Your neglected drink is now lukewarm, leaving a damp spot on the hem of your dress as condensation seeps through from where you rested the glass on your thighs.

Hyunjin leaves a few minutes later, taking Naeun by the hand. He briefly turns to look at you, his gaze now nearly unreadable. Only disappointment — or was it hurt? — flashes in his brown eyes before he walks away to lead her up that stairwell.

You sit alone for what feels like an eternity, the once bustling lounge slowly falling into a deafening silence around you. Jealousy and hurt intertwine inside your brain, spinning around in an endless cycle and making your head throb.

You’re only waiting until you’ve finished your way too expensive Cosmopolitan — far too warm to be enjoyable now — when a figure suddenly sits beside you. To your surprise, it’s a host. His styled dark brown hair is messy as if he’s been running his hands through it, and his black button-up shirt has the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins running along his forearms. He’s hot, there’s no denying, but your sour mood won’t be solved by some eye candy.

“Seems we’re both alone tonight,” he starts, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.

You simply hum, taking a final sip of your drink before placing the glass on the table. You’re not really in the mood to entertain this conversation, so you uncross your legs, ready to leave.

But your movements halt when his hand gently rests on your knee.

“You seem so lonely here all by yourself. Why don’t you come with me?” He offers, and your eyes narrow. He lets out a hearty laugh. “No need to act so suspicious, I’m just making an offer. We’re both alone. What’s the harm?”

To say you were skeptical would be an understatement. You clearly remember his face from the website as he was right beside Hyunjin, at the number two spot of the platinum tier, his price only slightly less offensively expensive.

“I’m Minho,” he offers his hand, which you reluctantly take after telling him your name. After your awkward handshake, you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he places your clasped hands on your lap, his thumb drawing circular shapes on your skin as he continues, “I waited all night for my client to show up. I could really use a distraction.”

Of course.

You take a deep breath, and your gaze shifts towards his face.

“I don’t have money to order you, sorry.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Minho’s lips, his hand leaving yours and finding the skin of your thighs. “How about I make this my treat, then? My client has this habit of ordering me and then ghosting me,” he sighs, “Isn’t that cruel? Taeyeon said she won’t let it fly anymore and is refusing to give her a refund for tonight.”

As Minho’s soft touch glides along your skin, his fingers inching closer to the hem of your dress, your mind replays the scene of Hyunjin’s hand on Naeun’s legs. The way he touched her mirrored how he had touched you so many times, and it replayed in your mind like a flickering film. It ignites the flame of ugly jealousy inside of you once more.

“Your treat?” You whisper, and Minho’s face inches closer to yours, your noses brushing together.

“I’d hate for a pretty girl like you to go home unsatisfied,” he whispers.

You’re walking up the gleaming steps of that staircase before you can make sense of what you’re doing. Minho’s hand doesn’t leave your skin for a second, fingers now gliding across your arms as he leads you down a wide corridor. You eye the place curiously, taking in the row of closed, dark wooden doors lining both sides of the hallway.

Minho leads you toward the only door that has been left ajar, and it finally dawns on you what happens on the second floor of The Siren.

The room is not large; a round bed occupies most of the space between the small bar and the dark velvet couch. Following your initial conversation with Hyunjin about this job, he consistently evaded any further questions you asked until you eventually gave up. You always assumed he found the subject boring, much like you did when forced to talk about your own job.

You knew his job as a host meant pampering women, making them feel wanted and tending to their every need throughout the night. It seems your brain conveniently failed to remember that it also implied having sex with them.

“I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You feel a shudder run through your body as those words ring inside your mind. That’s what extra fees meant.

Hyunjin led Naeun up those stairs. It doesn’t take much imagination to know what they were doing at that exact moment.

Minho locks the door behind you, and his strong arms circle your waist, drawing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Is this okay?” His voice is gentle, with no pressure lingering in his words. You know you could say no, go back home, and wallow in your self-pity for the rest of the night.

But you don’t want to do that.

Because you know Hyunjin is currently fucking your friend. And, despite the rational side of your brain screaming that this is his job, it does little to extinguish the searing fire of jealousy that burns under your skin.

So, you allow yourself to fall into bed with Minho.

His touches are almost feather-light, his kisses gentle, and his movements deliberate as he fucks into you.

It feels good, but it’s not what you’re used to.

It’s not Hyunjin.

Hyunjin returned home as soon as he possibly could after his shift.

Any anger was dampened by the sadness and shame he felt because you had to see him at the club. It’s his job, but it’s a job he never truly loved. He feels vulnerable and powerless as a host, a stark contrast to what he feels when camming.

Taeyeon personally scouted him from his livestream. He was twenty and already making enough money to provide for himself. He didn’t need a new job, but the allure of the validation he knew it would provide him was enticing. Compliments and adoration fueled Hyunjin throughout his entire life. He knew it was a bit pathetic, but that was how he was taught to be.

During his training period, Taeyeon and the older hosts instructed him. They taught him how to erase his true self to fit into what would most appeal to clients. That was easy for Hyunjin. He’d already been doing that for most of his life.

He wasn’t tricked into anything. He was given a meticulous explanation of every minute detail of the job and was allowed to set hard limits for anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. Taeyeon treated the hosts like her family, like older and younger brothers she cared for. She provided apartments for those who came into the job with nothing, paid off student debts, and was always willing to listen to their problems.

She would be the perfect boss if not for her love of money.

Every host receives only 5% of any money they make for the club. Hyunjin, as the highest-paid host at The Siren, only makes around $100 per weekend — if he’s lucky enough to have clients booking him for extra services every night.

He knows he’s being exploited but can’t bring himself to quit.

When he first discovered the ranking system at the club, he turned to smoking because of pressure. Naturally, he started at the lowest tier but needed to climb as fast as possible. He was determined to do whatever it took to reach that number one spot. He bleached his hair, splashed out on clothes he didn’t like, and even took up groups of clients per night. Hyunjin had always found comfort in sex. He had complete control of the situation and the satisfaction of knowing he was the reason someone felt good was just another form of validation, like he was loved for as long as the sex lasted.

Sex at the club was never like that. It was a chore, something he did because he had to. It wasn’t anything like camming, and it wasn’t like having sex with someone he actually cared about.

It wasn’t anything like having sex with you.

Seeing you that night only made it harder for him to drag himself up those stairs and do what was expected of him.

Hyunjin got home that night and fell asleep on the couch. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything, especially shower, as the thought of facing his reflection in the mirror was unbearable. Different emotions swirled inside him like a tornado until they ultimately consumed him before he finally dozed off.

He thought he could trust you, thought you knew him well enough to understand why he wanted to keep this part of himself hidden from you. The night he first told you about this job, he put on a mask — like he always did — and put on his best act, playing up his arrogance despite how scared he felt. When you told him that same night he wasn’t anything worth falling for, and that you could be together only until you found something better, he felt as if his heart had shattered for the first time in his life.

That was the night he realized a mask couldn’t protect him from everything. Especially his own heart.

It wasn’t intentional — liking you this much hasn’t been exactly enjoyable. It simply happened. Because you were the only one who ever chipped away at his impenetrable wall and saw the closest thing to the real Hyunjin, yet still chose to stay.

You hadn’t stayed because of his looks; you two never cared about impressing each other.

You hadn’t stayed solely for the sex; you two often got together simply to enjoy each other’s company.

Hyunjin couldn’t be blamed for assuming you had stayed because you knew him. Not the mask he wore or the persona he showed to the world — the real him.

But tonight, even among all the designer clothes and expensive drinks, he felt as if you had just witnessed him at his lowest. And he could only hope you still chose to stay after that.

You’ve barely been awake for an hour when a knock echoes through your apartment. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, because there’s only one person who could be at the other side of the door.

After your jealousy-clouded brain made the asinine decision to sleep with Minho, you’ve locked away any and every thought into a pretty little box inside your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you had done because you knew the remorse would slowly erode your mind. You certainly didn’t want to think about Hyunjin, as even the faint memory of his eyes from the previous night would dig at your heart until it shattered.

But there was nowhere you could hide outside of your mind.

Hyunjin is quiet as you open the door, and he remains quiet as you two sit together on your couch. Your tea sits forgotten on your coffee table, and you focus on the swirls of steam rising from your mug as you endure his silence.

You force yourself to speak when your tea finally goes cold.

“I’m sorry,” you simply say.

Hyunjin’s hands tug at the sleeves of his sweater, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. “Why did you come to the club without telling me?”

“I was angry at you,” You bite your lip, knowing your reasoning is ridiculous. “Because of the date…” you trail off, and Hyunjin turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he walked into your apartment.

“So you thought coming to my work would be a good idea?”

You shrug, instinctively looking away as you feel the intensity of his eyes on you. It was just like when you first met him, only it made you ashamed instead of flustered. You missed that initial lightness, but you knew that was long gone now. Sorting out your issues with Hyunjin was necessary if you ever hoped to have a healthy relationship. If every conversation turned into an argument that would only be avoided through sex, there was no point in dragging this on.

“I wasn’t thinking,” is all you can say.

Hyunjin scoffs. “That was kinda obvious.”

The biting tone in his voice makes you rise to your feet, shaking your head. You put as much distance between you and him as possible.

“What? You wanted me to be rational when I thought you were just playing with me?” You throw your hands up as you blurted out, exasperation consuming any remaining trace of pride within you. “When I thought you were having fun acting jealous and proposing dates only to come up with shitty excuses to shut it all down?”

“Playing with you?” Hyunjin mirrors your words, eyes narrowing as he closes the distance you had created. “I thought you knew me enough to know I mean it when I say something. I wanted to go on that date with you, and I was fucking jealous. That night you forced me to listen to you fuck another guy made me wanna punch my fucking wall.”

You open your lips, but no words come out.

You’re embarrassed. Going to The Siren wasn’t the first childish thing you had done out of spite because of Hyunjin. But your anger was never directed at him. It was always you; for allowing yourself to become so attached to him and like him so much that it drove you mad.

Going on that date simply to rile Hyunjin up, showing up at his job because you felt entitled to when your mind insisted you had been wronged — that was all you and your stupid mind being incapable of accepting the fact that you have fallen for the guy you swore would never be of any significance to you.

The guy you so proudly declared unworthy of falling for.

“Are you really not gonna say anything?” Hyunjin lets out a weak laugh, and when your eyes meet again, his expression leaves no room for doubt this time. Sadness swims freely in his eyes while they well up with tears that he vigorously fights to hold back. “I thought you knew me,” he reiterates. “Thought you stayed because you knew…” He trails off, shaking his head.

As he turns to leave, you instinctively reach out for him. After nine months of knowing each other, you hold his hand for the first time.

“I do know you, Hyunjin,” you blurt out, squeezing his hand when he refuses to look at you. “I stayed because I know you. Beyond your rankings, beyond that club, beyond this damn wall you built around yourself. At least a little bit, I know you.”

He takes a deep breath before his eyes lock on yours again. “I feel like you’ve been tearing down brick by brick of my wall.” He’s the one to squeeze your hand this time. “I kinda fucking hate that.”

You attempt to stifle a chuckle, but it escapes your lips nonetheless. Hyunjin smiles.

“I’d love to know you even more, beyond this mask you wear all the time,” you confess. And you’re tired of hiding behind your own mask, so you tell him, “It’s tiring feeling like I only know half of who you truly are when I already like you so fucking much as it is.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen, surprise eclipsing any trace of his initial sadness.

“What? You like me?” He sputters, and you bite your lips as a smile spreads on your lips.

You cannot believe this is the same Hyunjin whose ego made you want to punch his face.

“Well, no shit,” you chuckle. “Why do you think I put up with you for so long? Don’t you think if I was looking for something better, I would’ve found it already?”

Hyunjin’s lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, his fingertips barely brushing against your skin as he cupped your face.

Your lips part for him, and a low hum resonates from his chest. You wrap your free arm around his shoulder, your hands still tightly intertwined, and pull him closer to you. It’s an awkward position, but neither of you is willing to unclasp your hands.

Hyunjin’s tongue glides languidly into your open lips, making you clutch at his arm as your mind goes dizzy. You had never kissed like this — always too impatient and lust-drunk to savor the feeling of each other’s lips properly.

It sends your entire body ablaze.

He’s pulling away far too soon, tugging at your bottom lip with a small smile.

“I’m not something better, but I’m gonna be,” he mutters against your lips. “For you.”

But you shake your head. “Just let me in. You’re already more than enough.”

In order for your efforts to work, you and Hyunjin established three crucial rules: absolute honesty, open communication, and no fucking until significant progress is made.

You start slowly, with that unfulfilled date that had been the catalyst for you two finally confronting your feelings.

Hyunjin was nervous. The few times he’s gone on dates, his mind was set on wrapping it up as soon as possible to take the person home. It didn’t matter where they went or what they did; every date inevitably led to his bed.

This time was different.

You certainly weren’t expecting to have a picnic on a Saturday afternoon. Your surprise was evident as your eyes widened at the sight before you: Hyunjin, standing at your door with a picnic basket and a digital camera slung around his neck. When you jokingly commented on how that was the most un-Hyunjin thing you had ever seen him do, he nonchalantly shrugged.

As you two sat together under a tree, however, he told you he’s always loved picnics. Growing up near a park, picnics became a family tradition that started when he was just a kid and still happens whenever he visits his parents. The silly smile that was etched onto your lips lingered throughout the entire day. Hyunjin’s closed-off nature made that small piece of information feel like a precious gem you had just collected. It was far greater than any of the pointless conversations you two had in the last nine months.

It felt like watching another brick from his once towering wall shatter to the ground.

Hyunjin quit his job at the club a month after your first date.

He didn’t elaborate on it at first, simply telling you it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You had now learned it was best to give him space, as his tendency to shut himself off only worsened if he felt pressured. Deep inside, Hyunjin yearned to share every little detail about himself with you and hear your own stories in return. However, years of keeping everyone at a comfortable distance hindered his ability to open up without feeling vulnerable.

So you only pulled him into a hug, running your hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. You two then set off for your date at a bakery close to your apartments, with the subject seemingly forgotten.

Until Hyunjin suddenly told you the entire truth under a lamppost in front of your building. He whispered that he didn’t want to go home yet, and you found yourselves sitting on the sidewalk as you listened to his story. You weren’t exactly shocked at the information dumped on you, but it still made your heart sore. He was taken advantage of because he longed to feel accepted, to feel loved.

During the elevator ride, you could tell Hyunjin was struggling to hold back tears with every ounce of his strength. You know he was eager to be alone when he pressed a weak kiss to your forehead before heading towards his door. So you reached out for his hand once more and pulled him toward your apartment despite his protests.

That night, Hyunjin struggled to suppress his tears until they ultimately overflowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks as you held him on the couch. Before you knew it, tears unwittingly streamed down your face as well. It was as if your emotions were a mirror image of his.

Another brick down.

You discover Hyunjin’s love for photography by accident.

Everywhere you went together, his camera was draped around his neck. At first, you paid little attention to that detail. His job consisted of being in front of a camera; it wouldn’t be outrageous to surmise he simply enjoyed documenting his daily life. You teased him about it one day as he stopped in front of a flower shop to snap yet another picture. He shrugged, casually telling you he’d been taking pictures since his teenage years, later majoring in photography before dropping out of university.

Unable to tame your nagging curiosity, you urged him to show you his pictures. Nestled deep inside his wardrobe were several boxes filled with photographs he had taken over the years. Most captured the simple beauty of ordinary places and simple things, like the pretty flowers he saw at the shop you walked past, but some showed people candidly laughing while immersed in the happiness of their daily lives in parks or museums.

He wore an unabashed grin on his lips when he opened another box, this one containing around ten developed pictures of you. Among the small pile of photos, one catches your eye: your smiling side profile beaming at a group of kids, a hand shielding your eyes from the sun. You turn the picture around, and the words “First date. I was so nervous, and she was so pretty” are scribbled in black sharpie. Hyunjin groaned beside you, telling you he just jotted down something stupid without much thought. It made you smile like a kid.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a weak chuckle, “I never show them to anybody. None of them are really good, anyway.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, studying his face for any hint of sarcasm. His pictures were beautiful, perfectly depicting how happiness and mundanity often blended into one unbeknownst to people. But Hyunjin noticed, with his camera always ready at the right time for the perfect shot, even with things as small as a snapshot of your first date.

“They’re amazing, Hyunjin,” you told him matter-of-factly. “This is the kind of thing you’d find in art galleries. I can’t believe you keep this talent hidden.”

He shrugs your words off at first, taking a photo in his hand and studying it for a few seconds. His lips curve into a small smile, shyly at first, until his face is beaming as he looks down at his work. You can’t help but smile along, noticing how his cheeks blushed for the first time since you met him.

Another brick down.

In two months, you and Hyunjin went from meeting only at your apartments to going on weekly dates and from pointless bickering to actually understanding each other. The more he opened up, the more you found yourself being vulnerable around him as well.

You learned Hyunjin’s confidence was truthfully a part of him; he simply played it up to a maddening degree to protect himself. He is a confident man, but he’s certainly not the egotistical idiot you once believed him to be.

Your suspicions about him secretly being a softie were also confirmed as you witnessed him cry nearly every time you watched the romance movies he sheepishly confessed to loving. At first, he would sniffle, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat, before excusing himself to the bathroom. A few movies later, he allowed himself to openly cry in front of you for the second time. He’s proven to be a certified crier since then, often laying his head on your chest and silently shedding tears while you played with his hair.

At the end of the day, Hyunjin was a flawed, complex person like any other. He wasn’t always soft and sensitive, but he wasn’t only a cocky and smug little shit, either.

You found you loved both sides of him equally.

Your rules proved to be exactly what you needed, as you only felt closer to Hyunjin each passing day.

But a particular rule became your number one enemy after a month.

Your pent-up sexual frustration seemed to escalate with each passing day, fueling an increasing desire to just say fuck it and climb on top of Hyunjin. It certainly didn’t help that he was even clingier now, long limbs always tangling with yours when you lay on the couch, or his warm body pressing against you while you were cooking. Not to mention that you listened to him livestream every weekend. You opted to wait in his living room — because watching him would just be masochistic — but it felt like you had been transported back in time. Sitting alone for hours and listening to him moan was still as torturous as the first time it had happened. Even if you touched yourself to the sound of his voice, it was never enough.

You knew what you needed, but you have been essentially blueballing yourself for a month now.

As you two lie on your bed, watching another sappy romance movie, you can feel the heat rising inside your body, like a thermometer reaching its peak. You were fully expecting Hyunjin to cry, but this movie turned out to be far more erotic than romantic. His persistent need to have his lips on you — be it with a kiss or with lazy nibbles on your neck — also certainly doesn’t help your suffering.

You power through as you watch the love interests making out while Hyunjin lightly presses his lips to your neck, his body all but caging you against your bed. But the moment the couple heads to the bedroom, hastily undressing each other with heavy pants and sighs, you absentmindedly part your legs. Hyunjin is hovering above you before you can make sense of what’s happening, your laptop carelessly thrown to the side. His body pressed against yours, fitting perfectly between your thighs, as his darkening eyes bore into you.

“Hyunjin,” you have half a mind to say, “Our rule.”

He simply nods, and goosebumps ripple across your body when you feel his hardening member brush against you.

“We made progress,” he states with a grin. “You even let me into your room now.”

“It’s not enough to justify fucking again.”

As much as you were desperate for it.

He swallows slowly, nodding and bending his face to yours. “But our rule says no fucking,” he reasons. “If I make love to you, then it won’t even count.”

“Love?” You whisper, and the thermometer shatters as he presses a long kiss to your open lips.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles between kisses, brushing his lips against yours. “Love.”

It’s not a clear confession, not a beautiful I love you whispered between kisses — but you know Hyunjin, and the sincerity in his voice says everything.

Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as you pull him even closer to you, and he promptly presses his mouth against yours, his tongue teasingly gliding across your bottom lip. Each roll of your hips ignites the heat within you like scorching lava, your desire swallowing you entirely after so long of craving this.

His tongue presses against yours, effortlessly taking control of the kiss, capturing your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it and traveling toward your jaw. He sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth with a hum, drawing out a whimper from your lips while he moves down the column of your neck. Smiling against your collarbone, Hyunjin alternates between harsh nibbles and soft kisses, leaving blooming rosy spots on every inch of your skin. He travels toward your chest, his hands slipping under your shirt and brushing your skin before tugging off the fabric.

Hyunjin’s hands cup your breasts, your nipples tightening under his attention, and his lips move down your body, placing kisses from your chest to your stomach. His hand eagerly kneads the soft skin of your chest while the other pinches your nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingertips.

“I missed this,” he whispers, voice muffled against your skin, and you let out a shaky breath as a response when his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants. “That was a stupid rule.”

“Shut up.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It was a great rule, it helped us make progress.”

“Fuck progress,” Hyunjin groans, tugging your sweatpants off.

He wastes no time hoisting your legs over his shoulders, causing you to shudder and goosebumps to ripple through your body when his lips close around your clit without warning. His tongue licks long stripes up the length of your slit, his fingers spreading you open so he can lap at your arousal with a low hum. Hyunjin’s thumb rubs circles around your clit as his lips find your inner thighs, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving another blushing trail of his yearning for you.

His tongue delves into your wetness, savoring you with tantalizing, pleasure-filled groans that travel through your cunt. The insistent throb between your thighs intensifies, your hand tugging at his hair and your hips rolling into his touch as you arch your back. Hyunjin’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs while you reach your peak, his teeth pulling your clit gently as you come with a broken cry.

Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are heavy with lust when he looks at you, his firm grip keeping your legs over his shoulders.

“You still think that rule was great?” Hyunjin gives you a lopsided grin that almost has you rolling your eyes, only he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, rending you unable to do anything but mewl and tug at his hair. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your inner thighs once more, his eyes still locked onto yours.

You needed him closer, his strong arms surrounding you and his scent enveloping your senses until you felt dizzy. The mere thought of his cock has you clenching, arousal trickling down your slit, and you tug at his hair harshly with a whine.

Hyunjin climbs over you again, tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid movement and crashing his lips into yours, the taste of your release swirling in your mouth as your tongues meet.

“You’re so fucking needy,” he chides. You simply hum, his thick length brushing against your core as he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re one to talk,” you smirk, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips up into his erection. Hyunjin scoffs, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them over your head, his eyes darkening as he looms over you.

There’s no more push and pull between you two during your daily lives, but it’s something you hope never fades away during sex. You’re sure Hyunjin’s need to have control, coupled with your taste for riling him up, will make sure that never happens.

But Hyunjin has no intentions of making you beg tonight — not after so many weeks of making himself cum to the thought of your pretty cunt, knowing that damn rule kept him from actually having you.

He tugs his sweatpants out of his way, one hand still pinning your wrists to the mattress. You bite your lip at the sight of his cock hanging heavily, tantalizingly close to your sopping cunt. Hyunjin strokes himself hastily, clearly having grown impatient, precum dribbling from the ruddy head of his cock and easing the glide of his fist.

The swollen tip slides against your wetness, and he lets out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours. The delicious stretch as he presses inside has your hands instinctively reaching out to him. But his grip on your wrists only tightens, keeping them in place as he leans into you, stretching you further with a hiss.

“Fuck, I missed being buried in your cunt,” Hyunjin mumbles, and you moan as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Always so tight, like you were made for me.”

He sheaths himself inside of you completely, and you arch your back with a groan as his cock twitches inside your sensitive spot.

“Made just for you,” you choke out as Hyunjin slowly thrusts into you, agonizingly slow and deliberate movements making you dig your nails into your palms. “Hyunjin,” his name dissipates into a whine as he pushes his cock in and out of you languidly.

He chuckles against the shell of your ear, and you wrap your legs around his torso, rolling your hips faster against him. The drawn-out moan that escapes his lips has your cunt clenching and leaking more arousal around his length.

“D’you still like the sound of my voice that much?” He hums, and you nod with a sigh. His slender fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “Yeah? Like it when I moan in your ear?”

He finally picks up the pace, pulling back before snapping his hips forward. His lips swallow your moans as he kisses you once, his hand finally releasing your wrists and digging into your hips as he pumps his cock into you. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your sweaty skin, tracing his tongue along the marks he left earlier.

“You’re mine,” he groans against your skin. “Been dying to say this for so fucking long.”

You gasp at his words, your body jerking when he slips his hand down to circle around your swollen clit. “‘M yours,” you whine, “Fuck me like I’m yours. Please—”

Hyunjin groans, your words igniting a fire within him, and his hips fall into a ruthless pace, pistoning his cock into you while his fingertips expertly stroke your clit. The hot coil of desire in your stomach tightens, finally breaking as your climax surges through every fiber of your being, a million stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, you always feel so good,” Hyunjin rasps out, his movements shifting into a messy tempo. “Gonna fill you up, okay?”

You nod with a whimper, your overstimulated cunt clenching around his cock as his thrusts remain unrelenting. With a low grunt that ripples through his chest, Hyunjin’s hips slam into yours, his cock twitching and his grip on your throat tightening. He paints your insides with a final testament that you were his.

He stills on top of you, pressing featherlight kisses to your cheeks and lips, his cock softening inside of you as you stay that way for a while. When he pulls out, his fingers promptly smear his cum over your cunt as it leaks out, two digits thrusting his release back into you with a contented hum.

“Can we still fuck now that I found something better?” You ask him with a grin, and he laughs, burying his head in your neck.

Your mind is wholly clouded with bliss — both from your orgasm and the feeling of love that courses through your veins. You inwardly laugh. Hyunjin fucking you in your bedroom had definitely not tainted it. He had basically transformed your bed into a sanctuary.

Hyunjin helps you shower, gentle hands wash and caress your body before coaxing your third orgasm out of you under the soothing cascading water. He makes you a cup of your favorite tea the way you love it — which he made sure to memorize — and insists you two finish watching the forgotten movie before going to bed. It feels awfully domestic, and it would be a lie to say you hated it.

That night, you fall asleep beside Hyunjin in your bed for the first time; inside a little sacred space you are slowly building with him.

It was never your intention to be his. You were certain Hyunjin was the type of man who would never allow himself to be vulnerable, to truly fall in love with someone without his ego getting in the way. By keeping him at arm’s length, you believed you were guarding yourself from inevitable heartache.

Behind his cocky smirks and self-assured words, an amazing man hid himself out of deep-seated fears of rejection, unworthiness, and not being loved for his true self. Each day, he allowed glimpses of himself to shine through the cracks in his fortress. He became an enigma you were dying to unravel because you knew he was worth it.

Because you knew him.

And unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin has been yours all along. From the moment you walked into his apartment with a scowl and frustration-filled words, it was as if his heart became wired to crave you. He was simply hoping and waiting for you to become his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @wormieieie, @soonie1010, @dessianna1, @minimin1993, @idontlikecoffeeortea, @ashleighland, @oddracha, @sushiinmidnight, @lailac13, @badmaeda, @hynjinniesworld, @iheartjazz444, @cypher-girlx, @isagerada, @leviathanlee26, @sailor--sun, @binniesbabygirl

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz

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narryffdreaming · 25 days

Text

Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't)

Summary: It all started with the prompt "we're not just friends and you fucking know it", and then it turned into several short scenes about two people who are supposed to be just friends, except they aren't.

ONE-SHOT AU, friends to lovers, angst, romance, sweetness, smut +18 (explicit language and explicit sexual content) 25k words

It took less than five minutes for a girl to approach him.

Maisy sighed and leaned back in her chair, sipping her almost-empty-drink and watching the scene take place right in front of her.

To be fair, she wasn't surprised. In fact, before Harry had left the table to get another round of drinks, she'd thought about making a joke and bet how long it would take for a girl to divert him from his task. In the end, she didn't say anything, of course. First because she worried he wouldn't find it funny, but mostly because she was afraid he would see right through her words and notice how terrified she was about the possibility of seeing him with someone else.

So, yeah, she wasn't surprised, but that still didn't mean she wasn't upset. After all, she had spent the entire day secretly hoping things between them would be different now.

"You're staring," Niall muttered next to her, taking the seat Harry had been occupying until a couple of minutes ago. "Already told ya, if you want him, talk to him."

Maisy scoffed, shaking her head as if she could also shake his words away. Niall was sweet, but he was also oblivious to the fact that Harry already knew about her feelings and, still, nothing had changed. Although, if she really thought about it, maybe things were even worse now.

Ugh, why was he acting like that? Why did he keep pretending nothing had happened?

Harry was one of her closest friends, and one of the things she loved the most about him was how sweet and thoughtful he was to everyone around him, especially to those he cared about. That's who he'd been to her since the first day, at least. So even if he didn't feel the same, surely she wasn't expecting for him to simply ignore her feelings.

Over a week had passed and she hadn't talked to anyone about it. As the days went by, it became obvious that the more she thought about what had happened, the more anxious she felt. She figured she deserved to be honest and talk to someone, so she straightened her body and pushed her shoulders back, turning towards Niall and taking a deep breath before finally letting the words out of her mouth.

"We kissed."

Niall pulled his beer away from his face and turned his head, facing her with an open mouth and widened eyes. "Wha—Who? You and Harry?"

Maisy nodded, and Niall jerked his body closer.

"What the fuck?! You two kissed? When? How?!"

His reaction made her chuckle, but she dismissed his excitement by shrugging and finishing her drink before speaking again—as if the story wasn't that important or that interesting (and as if they both didn't know that was obviously a lie).

"He just came over last week and… I don't know. We kissed?"

It sounded more like a question, like she wasn't sure it had actually happened. But it had. The kiss was real. It had happened and it had made her feel all kinds of different and exciting things. And now she couldn't stop thinking about doing it again. And again. And again.

"Right," Niall scoffed. "Just like that? After five years hanging out together, out of nowhere, you both just thought you know what? Let's kiss today. Might be fun!?"

Maisy didn't know how to answer that, so she rolled her eyes and laughed lightly. Niall definitely had a point, and maybe in a couple of weeks—or months, or years—she'd be able to explain it better, but right then and there she honestly didn't have an answer. It wasn't supposed to happen and it definitely was not what she had in mind when she invited him over, but they were having fun and laughing and at some point she felt something shift in the air and she just… She just kissed him.

Just like that.

Maisy kissed Harry.

And then Harry kissed Maisy.

A lot.

The memory made her cheeks turn hot, and her belly fluttered. She turned back to the table and looked down, fixing her eyes on her fingers and picking at her nails.

Niall must have sensed her uneasiness, because he didn't pressure for an explanation, moving on to the next question with a softer tone.

"Does he know you like him, then?"

Maisy shrugged.

"He must know. I mean, he has to know…" She tapped her foot on the ground, narrowing her eyes as she stared at her fingertips, "right?"

She lifted her eyes just a second, just to question him, and Niall dropped his shoulders.

He moved closer, throwing his arm over the back of her chair. "Isy…"

She shook her head, then focused back on her nails. "You said it yourself, Ni, we hang out all the time… And, I mean, he stays over a lot, and we cuddle, we hold hands… I don't do that with everyone. You know that. He knows that. And also, I don't know, why would I kiss him like that? Out of nowhere?"

"Because it wasn't out of nowhere."

"Exactly!" She looked up, and her eyes landed on Harry once more. Maisy sighed. "It wasn't."

The girl was still there, talking to him, casually laughing and flipping her hair. And Harry seemed really into it, happily paying attention and nodding to whatever the girl was saying. Smirking so fondly that Maisy could even see his dimple.

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled.

"God," Maisy laughed bitterly and shortly, rubbing her forehead as she looked away. "I'm so stupid."

"Isy," Niall sighed, "Stop. You're not stupid."

"I am, though." She shrugged. "It's just… He never looked at me that way, you know?"

Her voice cracked, and she took both hands up to her face, hiding behind them with an exaggerated grunt. "Fucking stupid…"

Niall took his hand to her shoulder and sighed, offering half a hug as he squeezed her gently. "That's not fair, Isy. You know how incredibly amazing you are. And to be honest you're just so out of his league. So much better than anyone he could ever date. So he is the stupid one for not seeing what's right in front of him, ok?"

Maisy shook her head. She knew Niall meant well, but she also felt like he didn't understand where she was coming from. See, Maisy knew that Harry liked her, and how much he trusted her — after all, that's why they were friends in the first place. She knew that she was important to him and that she was the first person he'd call or the one he'd run to when he needed something. She knew Harry would let her cry on his shoulder, hold her, share a bed with her, and listen to whatever she had to say. Dates would come and go in his life, but she was still there and he wouldn't let go of her.

So it wasn't like he didn't know what (or who) was in front of him.

Harry just didn't fancy her. Simply as that. He didn't dream about her in the same way she dreamed about him. And he had never treated her the same way he treated the girls he fancied on their nights out. He had never offered to buy her a drink just because he thought she was pretty, nor had tucked her hair behind her ear just to kiss her neck. He'd never rested his hand on her leg under the table, nor whispered in her ear how badly he wanted to take her home.

Harry had never shown any signs of being physically attracted to her, and that really, really, freaking fucking sucked. Because there was nothing she could do about that. She couldn't force him to want her like she wanted him.

"Do you want to leave?" Niall squeezed her shoulder. "'Cause I think we should."

Maisy nodded, then dropped her hands down to the table. "Yeah, please. Let's just go."

"Ok, great." He smiled, relieved at the idea of taking his best friend away from there. "'M just gonna pee and we'll go, ok? Be right back."

Nodding to Niall's words and watching him walk away, Maisy couldn't help but glance over them one more time.

Without a doubt, if Maisy had a choice, she wouldn't actively compare herself to others, knowing it was an unhealthy and worthless habit. Then again, she didn't notice she was doing it until it was too late and her throat felt too dry to even breathe. Because everything about the girl standing in front of Harry seemed perfect, and everything about Maisy sitting at that table by herself seemed ridiculous — she hadn't even at least showered after work, for God's sake!

There were so many differences between her and that girl that it seemed impossible not to feel embarrassed about even thinking something could happen between them, or about even feeling something just platonic for him.

Besides the fact that the girl was extremely attractive, or that her hair was long, wavy and shiny, or that her dress hugged her figure amazingly, it was obvious that her body language screamed confidence and determination.

And she wasn't doing anything wrong, really, but Maisy wanted to push her away from him as soon as she saw her raise her body to whisper in his ear, touching Harry's arm and making him smile. It only got worse when Harry leaned in and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl's ear, letting his hand slide from her shoulder to her hand, and then resting it on her waist. He smirked, then whispered something back to her.

"'M back, let's go." Niall stood in front of her, frowning while blocking up her view. "'M gonna walk you home, then I'm gonna punch Harry's fucking stupid face. C'mon."

— — — — —

Maisy had a feeling it was Harry as soon as she heard the knock on her door, hence why she wasn't surprised to see him standing in the middle of the hallway. Still, it was barely past midnight, so seeing him there didn't make much sense—wasn't he supposed to be with the girl?

"Heyyy Haz!" She smiled, trying her best to appear nonchalant despite the fact that she had just spent thirty minutes crying over him in the shower. "Thought you were still at the pub."

"Can I come in?"

The tone of his voice was one she couldn't recognize, and Maisy froze for a moment. She blinked at him, taking in the intensity behind his glare and the tension all over his face. Her smile faltered, and she furrowed her brows.

"I—Yes." She took a step aside and raised his hand, showing him the way as if he hadn't simply barged in any other time up until then. "Of course."

Harry stared ahead and walked in, radiating so much tension and heat that Maisy's heart skipped a beat, then immediately sped up. She swallowed, closing the door before following his steps to the living room.

As seconds went by, he didn't turn to look at her, and she was able to spot a slight trace of red lipstick on his neck. It was hard not to picture him and the girl together, but it was even harder not to think about how it had felt to tangle her own fingers through his curls while tasting that same bit of skin. And it hurt that, no matter how much she wished she could kiss him again, somebody else had done that already just earlier that night.

"Are you ok?" she asked, pushing the memories away. "Did—Did something happen?"

Harry snorted. "I don't know. You tell me."

Maisy frowned, scrunching up her face and blinking a few times while trying (and miserably failing) to organize her thoughts.

"What? I—What's… What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry remained silent, though, and her chest tightened. Closing her hands into fists, she licked her lips and took a breath in, then looked him up and down.

"Haz, please…" her voice trembled, but she still tried. "What's going on? Talk to me."

Nothing changed, and she swallowed.

"Can you at least look at me? Please? I don't—"

"Why?!" He turned around, then, so abruptly that Maisy's mouth fell open as she took a step back.

"Why didn't you talk to me? Huh?!" Harry glared at her, his jaw tightened and his brows snapped together while he threw his hands in the air and raised his voice. "Why did I have to go through a massive fight with Niall to find out that you have—That you—I mean—" he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. A moment passed while he took a deep breath, only for him to give a humorless laugh right after. "Jesus, it's so absurd I can't even say it."

"What…Why—Why are you so mad at me?" She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing Harry wasn't making any sense, but at the same time scared for what she thought he was implying. Had Niall gone back to the pub? He had walked her home only a couple of hours earlier, they'd talked a little, she'd cried on his shoulder, and then he'd left. She hadn't thought about where he would go next, just assuming he'd go straight back to his place, but maybe she'd been wrong? She just… She didn't… What was happening? "I—I didn't do anything. I don't even… I don't even know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the fact that Niall just yelled at me for half an hour for apparently breaking your heart, Maisy. That's what I'm talking about!"

There was a pause. A long and painful pause.

Harry's chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, fists clenched while his arms remained at his sides and he glared at her.

Standing a few feet across from him, Maisy's eyes welled up with tears. She knew Harry like she knew the palm of her hand, and out of all the times she'd imagined him finding out, anger had never been present. Shock? Sure. Sadness? Yes. Worry? Also yes. Pity? Almost every time. She'd imagined many things, and different emotions. Everything. Anything. But never that.

She'd never thought he would ever throw words at her so carelessly, so loudly, and so harshly. On top of that, she also didn't think she deserved them. Because, really, what had she done besides stupidly falling in love with him? She'd never gotten in his way nor stopped him from living his life. So, yeah, truly—why was he so mad at her?

She swallowed down her tears and clenched her teeth, blinking rapidly as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

"Oh, I see." She took a step closer and nodded, straightening her body and allowing her hands to talk along with her own raising voice. "So what? Niall tells you that you broke my heart and this is your reaction? What the hell Harry?! Did you really think this was a good idea? Coming back to my place in the middle of the night just to yell at me?! What were you thinking?!"

Harry flinched, and blinked. A mix of emotions flashed through his eyes, until he settled with anger once again.

"Of course I didn't think or plan this, Maisy! That's exactly why I'm here. I'm trying to understand because it doesn't make any sense!"

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Everything was fine, Maisy!"

She rolled her eyes and looked away, taking her hand up to pull her hair back and letting him say whatever he wanted to say.

"So I don't get it, ok?! I don't! And we were having fun tonight! Man I met this amazing girl, and was just about to take her home when Niall started yelling at me. For fucks sake! Out of nowhere! Of course she left and now I'm—"

"Okay, okay. Stop," she interrupted, holding her palms up and staring back at him. "Just… Just stop, please."

Harry frowned even deeper, and a long, low sigh fell through Maisy's lips. There was no point in arguing with him, and she knew that.

"I get it, okay?" she added. "And I'm very sorry for ruining your night with this amazing girl. I swear I didn't mean to. I left the pub just so I could come home and cry by myself. So trust me, I didn't want to bother you with this, ok? And I swear to God I didn't want Niall to go back and tell you about it. I didn't want any of this to happen. So I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

She dropped her weight on the couch and breathed in, then slowly rubbed her temples and breathed out.

It was the realization of how exhausted she sounded that made Harry stop and pay attention to her for the first time since she'd opened the door. He noticed the lack of energy, the way she covered her face, the way she hunched her body as if she needed to hug herself. As if she needed to protect herself.

It only took one second and one attentive glance for all of his anger to melt away, and a big wave of guilt crashed into him.

Unfortunately, though, Harry didn't know how to handle that situation. It was a new dynamic between them, a new path for a friendship that wasn't supposed to take that turn. So he continued justifying himself, although much more carefully than before.

"It took me by surprise, y'know? That's all. I was—" He shut his mouth and shook his head, exhaling before going back to explaining himself. "It doesn't matter. The thing is that Niall just came out of nowhere, so mad at me, Isy… I couldn't understand what was going on, and then he was blaming me for breaking your heart and talking about how you—saying that you have—I mean—That you have—"

"That I have, what?" With closed eyes, she dug her fingertips into her forehead, then shrugged. "Just say it, Harry, c'mon."

He frowned, unable to move.

"Is it true? Do you?"

"Again, what?" Letting out a hollow laugh, she dropped her hands down to her lap and looked at him. "You have to at least say it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't make sense! It— it can't be true. We are just friends and—"

"Oh, c'mon Harry!" She stood up, taking a step forward if only to make sure he wouldn't ignore her next words. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

"No! I don't—I mean, yes. Yes we are. We're just friends, Isy!"

"Just friends? Really?"

"Yes!"

"Well…" She shrugged, and looked away. "Not to me then, I'm sorry."

Harry took a step back and widened his eyes. And then, he blinked, pulling his hair back with one hand and resting the other on his hip before glancing down at his own feet.

Maisy sighed. A tiny part of her wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him up, and yell at him to wake up. Just shout at him. Prove him wrong.

However, she had no more energy to fight him. Not about that, at least. Her body felt too heavy to even move and her heart had changed into a slow thud inside her numb chest. Harry was her favorite person, but at that moment all she wanted was to be alone. It wasn't her intention to make him angry, let alone disappoint him, and knowing that she'd put them both in that situation only made her feel even more ashamed.

So she decided to be honest. Too exhausted to argue, she decided to stop fighting or running away and just say what she'd been thinking since she'd left the pub earlier that night.

"Look… I don't think we're just friends, Haz. I'm just friends with Niall. I've known him for over 10 years and I've never kissed him. God, I never even thought about kissing him. He slept over plenty of times, but he never asked to cuddle with me, and he never held me the way that you do. Last week I… I kissed you and you kissed me back, Harry. And maybe I got it wrong, but… But you really made me feel like you fucking wanted to, y'know? We weren't drunk, we kissed for hours and we didn't even have sex. We kissed and then you stayed and you fell asleep with your arms around me. And then you woke up and you—" Her voice cracked, and she knew she needed to take a deep breath if she wanted to continue. Maybe reliving every single detail was too much, maybe she didn't need to do that. "Anyway, no, ok? No. You and me, Harry? We're not just friends, and even if you can't say it out loud or believe it's true, I do have feelings for you. I've had feelings for you for a long time now and to be honest, yeah, you really… I'm sorry but you really broke my heart tonight."

Even with all the chatter around him, Harry caught the soft thump of someone's boots across the busy studio. It was like his mind was searching for the perfect excuse to get distracted, because he instantly dropped the task he was supposed to be doing and focused on the sound, instead. From there on, every noise caught his attention — Nina's fingers tapping against the keyboard, Johnny's phone ringing, Jenny and Patrick laughing as they filled their mugs with coffee, Maria and Julia whispering by the windows.

Despite not seeing anyone, he somehow kept up with everyone's movements and conversations. Meanwhile, displayed on the screen in front of him, the design he was supposed to be working on since he'd arrived that morning—and that he was also supposed to deliver to a client in less than thirty-six hours—remained untouched.

"You look like shit," Niall's voice pointed out from behind him, and Harry stiffened on his seat.

He knew Niall had been right behind him all along. Of course he knew. It wasn't as if he could've expected anything differently. After all, that's how the two had met: they'd joined the agency on the same day and were assigned to sit back to back from each other, then the rest was history.

Since then, that monday was the first day in over five years they still hadn't said even one word to each other. It was weird, to be honest, but they were both still resentful from the events of last friday's night, and too stubborn to handle the situation any differently.

So, yeah. To sum it up, Harry knew Niall had been there all along, but he wasn't expecting to engage in a conversation with him. Not yet. Not for another couple of days.

Still, Harry cleared his throat, and shrugged.

"Yeah, well…" he said, keeping his eyes on the screen. "I feel like shit."

Niall made a sound that resembled a hum, but then got quiet. And Harry wasn't sure of what he could say next, or if there was anything to say at all, so he breathed in and waited in silence.

No matter how confusing the latest events of his life had been, if there was one thing Harry was still sure of, it was that Niall and Maisy cared about each other like brother and sister. And that whilst he'd been easily welcomed into the group by the two of them, their friendship already lasted for over a decade, so it would always come first. And he was ok with that, he understood that. Niall knew Maisy in a different way than Harry did, and she would tell Niall things that she would never talk to him about, so there was no point in competing with them. It wasn't even something he would ever try to do, to be honest.

"So…" Niall cleared his throat. "You went to Isy's."

And there it was.

Harry closed his eyes.

See? Of course Niall already knew about that.

Sure, it didn't bother him, and it also wasn't a surprise, but… What was he supposed to say? He didn't even think Niall would want to talk to him, so what was he supposed to expect out of that conversation? As far as Harry knew, he had broken Maisy's heart and she wasn't talking to him anymore. And that was it. He had fucked everything up — before he even knew there was something to fuck up in the first place.

Bloody hell.

Harry sighed, then glanced at the screen in front of him.

To be completely honest, he had spent the last 48 hours trying to understand what the hell had happened, wincing every time he remembered Maisy's words and shuddering every time he thought about how he'd left her crying by herself on the couch.

Those same 48 hours had made him feel all over the place, everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He was all by himself the entire weekend, locked at home, having to occupy his mind with random, meaningless and stupid little things so he wouldn't drown in his own thoughts. Surely, it wasn't the first time they hadn't seen or talked to each other for a couple of days — although it was something rare to happen — but it was the way they'd left things that kept tormenting him.

He still had so many questions, because he needed so many answers. He wanted to know more about what had happened, about what had changed, or when, or why…

And he was also desperate to know what would happen next, because… Well… What was he even supposed to do after all that?

Harry rolled his chair around, getting himself out of his own spiraling thinking.

Niall was already facing him, glaring at him. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs extended forward, clenching his jaw and flaring his nostrils as if he was trying to set Harry on fire.

Clearly, it was safe to say Niall was still mad at him. And Harry didn't blame him — he was mad at himself, too.

He rolled his shoulders, and finally asked, "Did she tell you about it?"

Niall shrugged once. Briefly and quickly. "Kinda."

Harry nodded. He took one of his hands out of the pocket of his jumper and lifted it to the back of his neck, then massaged some of the stiffness away. There were so many things he wanted to ask, it was hard to choose where to start. He also didn't want to say the wrong thing and have Niall trying to physically fight him again. Things were already bad enough as they were, there was no need to add more drama into it.

Moving his hand from his neck to his face, he dragged his eyes to the floor and pinched his lip, pulling the skin as he voiced the next question.

"When did you see her?"

"Yesterday."

Harry nodded again, eyes still on the floor and fingers still on his bottom lip.

Across from him, Niall narrowed his eyes. He wasn't just messing around when he'd said Harry looked like shit. A beanie hid his hair, his shoulders were rigid, he hadn't shaved, his jaw was clenched, and he kept constantly squeezing his eyebrows together. Also, judging by the bags under his eyes, he didn't seem to be sleeping that well — or he didn't seem to be sleeping at all.

Should he be worried? He'd checked on Maisy a lot, but maybe he should've checked on Harry as well, because maybe this whole situation had also messed him up, even if for different reasons. Maybe Harry also needed a friend.

Shit.

Niall took a deep breath and uncrossed his arms, letting his shoulders fall as he straightened his back. "You honestly look like shit mate, did you sleep at all this weekend?"

Harry finally glanced over, shaking his head.

"I'm just…" He pressed his lips together, scratching his jaw before letting both of his hands fall on his lap. "She hasn't been answering any of my calls."

Niall lifted then dropped his eyebrows, nodding as if he knew exactly what Harry was talking about.

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged. "I don't think she will, to be honest."

Harry nodded, and looked away.

He probably deserved that.

— — — — —

"Thanks," Harry said to the waitress as she placed two beers and some fries on the table.

As soon as she walked away, he grabbed a bottle and took a sip, giving himself a few more seconds before asking the question he really wanted to ask.

"How is she?"

Niall's hand was full of fries, midway to his mouth, and Harry didn't miss the way he froze for one second before looking at him and engulfing them. He didn't finish eating before answering, mumbling the words as he chewed, "She's hurt. And you know how she gets when she's hurt."

"Fuck." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pulling his head back and sighing to the ceiling. It killed him to know he'd been the one to make Maisy suffer, it killed him that she didn't let him hold her when she cried, and it killed him how she begged him to leave her alone because his presence was only making it worse. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I would never mean that."

Niall scoffed, and Harry glanced down again. He found his friend eating fries absently, as if he wasn't part of the conversation anymore. Scanning them carefully before picking one and shoving it into his mouth. And then another one.

Harry frowned. "What? You know I didn't mean to hurt her, right?"

Niall peeked at him through the corner of his eyes.

"Well…" He tilted his head from side to side, then shifted on his seat and rubbed his hands together, cleaning up the salt. "Look, you didn't mean it. Fine. But I don't think you worried about it either, alright? I mean, you walked to the bar to get Isy a drink and didn't come back 'cause you wanted to hook up with some random chick. Which, by the way, was already a problem in the first place 'cause she had to watch you flirting around. But then, after I told you she has feelings for you, you went back to hers and blamed her for not getting laid? That's fucked up man, c'mon."

"She told you I blamed her for not getting laid?"

Niall lifted his eyebrows. "Didn't you?"

"I—I don't know, I was just freaking out. You saw when I left the pub, I wasn't even thinking."

"Clearly," Niall snickered, then looked around the pub as he took a deep breath. "Look, she didn't want to say anything 'cause she didn't want to lose your friendship… And, yeah, maybe part of this mess it's on me, 'cause… Well, 'cause I told you about it, alright? But… Mate… Look, you didn't see how hurt she was when she saw you at the bar, ok? You didn't think about her, and that really, really pissed me off."

Rubbing his jaw, Harry rolled his neck and sighed. It was true, Harry didn't see how much it hurt Maisy to see him at the bar. He actually didn't even know Maisy was watching as the girl approached him, but even if he did, he wouldn't have thought it was something that would hurt her. Sure, she would probably tease him for ditching them, or pinch him for leaving her waiting for her drink… But feeling hurt? As far as he knew, that wasn't even an alternative.

"I don't… I don't get it." He shrugged. "It's not like she never saw me with a girl before. I mean, I've been single since we met, and that's over five years, man. She's the one who had a boyfriend for two fucking years and you never saw me say a word about it."

"Huh," Niall scoffed, curving his lips up as he took his beer to his mouth. He took a sip, then murmured behind the bottle, "I had no idea Maisy having a boyfriend bothered you."

Harry tilted his own bottle, pointing at him. "That's not what I said. My point is, she knows I hook up every now and then. We always talked about it, and it was never a problem before."

Rolling his eyes, Niall sighed. Harry was really getting on his nerves with those stupid doubts.

"Well, obviously, this time was different."

"But why? Why was it different this time? What changed?"

"What changed?" Niall laughed, humorlessly and unbelievably, banging his beer against the table and inching forward. He wouldn't expect a kiss to mean something when it came to random hook ups, but he also wouldn't expect Harry to treat Maisy like a random hook up. Harry knew her better than that. And Maisy deserved better than that. Harry couldn't just kiss her and act as if it hadn't happened. He just couldn't. Niall wouldn't allow that. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Or are you just that stupid?!"

"Wha—"

"You two fucking kissed, mate! C'mon!"

"I—"

"You do remember that, right?"

Harry scoffed. "Of course I remember!"

"Of course you remember." Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling at how dense his friend could be. "Then what? Are you trying to pretend it didn't happen?"

Harry shook his head and stared down at his hands, one of them holding the bottle as the other played with the sticker on it. Of course he wasn't trying to pretend their kiss hadn't happened. He just didn't think it was something that would happen between them, and when it did, he didn't think it would go further than that. He didn't think Maisy saw him that way. Maybe at first, years ago, when they'd just met. But once he realized she'd put him in the friendzone, he didn't think he would ever get out of there. And he'd made peace with that. He put the idea away and locked it inside his mind. But he also wasn't sure if any of that made sense, and he didn't want to say something that would make it seem as if he didn't care about Maisy. Because he did. He cared about her way too much to lose her.

"I'm not—" Shit. How was he supposed to explain what was going through his mind? "I'm not trying to pretend it didn't happen, that's—that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know." He shrugged, feeling a sour taste in his mouth. "I guess… I guess I just didn't think she was expecting something different from me, that's all."

The pause that followed his answer was filled with tension. Harry kept fidgeting with the bottle in his hand, taking deep breaths to clear out his mind. Or perhaps to relieve the memories of that day. Trying to understand why it should've been so obvious to him that Maisy expected more out of them when she didn't say anything about it. Why should've been so obvious to him, when she didn't act any differently the next morning? Why should've been so obvious to him, when she'd barely texted him back the next day? And why should've been so obvious to him if, when he'd invited her to go out for a drink, she'd been the one to suggest that Niall tagged along?

"Anyway…" Niall said, then put more fries inside his mouth and chewed. After a second, he swallowed, then added, "Everything would've probably been just fine if you hadn't freaked out on her. That was really stupid."

"Right." Harry raised an eyebrow, eying his friend from across the table. "Can you blame me, though? You shoved me over those tables and tried to punch me, mate! Out of nowhere. Did you really need to be so fucking dramatic?"

Niall shifted on his seat, chuckling under his breath as he scratched his neck. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that… I told ya, I was really pissed off."

Harry's lips curved into a smile. He shook his head, lifting his beer and finishing the liquid inside while Niall ate more fries.

The tension between them had faded off, so although their conversation died for a couple minutes, things didn't feel awkward anymore. Still, there were a million things rushing through Harry's mind. Because, truly, what the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn't want to lose Maisy. He really didn't. But she wasn't texting him back, nor answering any of his calls, and he didn't want to be invasive and just show up at her door. He wanted to fix things, not make them worse.

So, playing with the odds, Harry decided to break off the silence and rip off the band-aid that was covering his deepest dilemma.

"What do I do now?"

Niall gulped the fries down, then drummed his fingers on the table and shrugged. "Do you have feelings for her?"

Harry looked away. Did he? Didn't he? How was he supposed to know that? It was a very simple and obvious question, and whereas it didn't surprise him, he wasn't actually expecting to answer it. He didn't know how to, to be honest.

"Can't help you if you don't know what you want, mate," Niall said. "You already know she has feelings for you, so I don't know what you expect me to say… 'Cause either you have feelings for her and go for it, or you don't and you let her go. But there's no way you can pretend nothing happened."

"No, I know that."

"Good. So figure out what you're feeling, and do something about it."

Three weeks later, Maisy saw him again.

Lucie had offered to leave him out of her birthday celebrations, but to be honest Maisy didn't think it was fair to shut him off from his entire group of friends. Even if the only reason why he knew them was because she and Niall had introduced him in the first place.

So there she was, at a gorgeous rooftop club, on a Saturday night, wearing a black top and white pants that she secretly hoped would blow Harry's mind. Showing off as much cleavage as she could, and pairing the high-waist with heels to highlight her curves around her hips. Mingling with the girls, and avoiding Max's hints for a second date. Laughing and chatting with a drink in her hand, while peering at the door and waiting for him to arrive.

It was kind of agonizing, to be honest. And if she didn't know he was giving Niall a ride to the party, she would've already given up by then.

But then she finished her second drink, went to the restroom, and as she made it back to the table, she finally saw them. Harry and Niall. Walking up the stairs that led to the terrace. Half an hour late, and the last ones to arrive.

Knowing it would take them a minute or two to reach the group, Maisy took a step to the side and hid behind Callie, placing a hand on her lower back and encouraging her not to move.

"What's up?" Callie asked, turning her head to the side.

Peering over her friend's shoulder, Maisy shook her head and whispered, "Nothing. He's here."

"Hmmm…" Callie nodded, then took a sip of her drink. "So what? You are moving on, remember? Going out on dates with Max and all that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Maisy rolled her eyes, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. "I just wanna look at him for one second, then I'll move on… I mean, just look at him, Callie… He's hot!"

Callie chuckled and shook her head, and although Maisy couldn't see her, she could imagine her rolling her eyes at those words. Not because she didn't think Harry was handsome, but because she'd already made up her mind about not supporting her feelings for him anymore. Not after seeing how much he'd hurt her. Still, she didn't say anything else, going back to whatever conversation she was having before and letting Maisy enjoy the view.

So that's exactly what she did.

Harry walked with his head low, following Niall's lead and mumbling "excuse me" and "sorry" every time he had to squeeze between bodies. He was wearing her favorite shirt, a custom made checked one he'd gotten last Christmas from his stylist sister, and Maisy bit her lip. He'd left it unbuttoned and layered it over a white t-shirt, its neckline so low that she could see the two swallows facing each other on his chest, as long as his usual gold cross necklace. His curls were shorter and all messed up in his head, and if she didn't know him better, she would've thought he hadn't even remembered to comb his hair after showering. But that wasn't the case, and she was sure it was exactly the look he was going for — it had always killed her how good he looked like that.

"Niall, Harry, over here!" Diana raised her arm and waved her hand, bursting Maisy's tiny bubble.

Moving from behind Callie, Maisy walked to the opposite side of the table and took a seat next to Josh. She smiled at him and Eileen, who had her fingers intertwined with his, and pretended not to see Niall stand right next to Lucie and raise his arms up in the air, or how cheers were thrown around them when they started greeting everyone.

"You ok?" Eileen asked, leaning forward to look at her.

"Of course." Maisy smiled, and nodded.

Was she, though?

Their voices were mixed up with music, laughter and glasses clinking together, but even so she heard Harry's words loud and clear, wishing their mutual friend a happy birthday and thanking her for inviting him. It's been a long time, you definitely look older, he joked, and Maisy had to really force herself to hold back a smile—and maybe even some tears.

It hurt to see him like that—so comfortable, so cute, so friendly, and so hot—knowing she wouldn't be able to touch him like she wished to. Above and beyond, it hurt not being able to sit next to him and just chat, make him laugh, and stare into his green eyes while listening to his deep and slow voice.

She didn't know how to act in front of him anymore, which really bothered her.

Before their fight, or whatever that had been, being friends with Harry had never been difficult, and her feelings for him had never felt like a problem, so being incapable of at least saying 'hello' to him made her feel immature and stupid. There was a weight on her shoulders pressuring her to quickly find a way to handle the situation, and a voice shouting at her that she was a 28 years-old woman who by now had to know how to remain friends and move on.

Honestly, though, why did she let this happen? Why did she kiss him? Why did she tell Niall about the kiss? Why did she have to go and ruin everything?

"You think you'll talk tonight?"

Maisy shrugged. She didn't have to ask Eileen what she meant by that. All of her friends knew about what had happened that Friday night, and they'd all shown different reactions to it. In this case, Eileen was still very supportive of her feelings for Harry, and a firm believer that their friendship was too important and deep to let it die so easily after one mistake.

"I don't think so," she said, focusing on her friend's eyes to avoid the fact that, had it been a month before, she would've already been wrapped around his arms. "What's there to talk, anyway?"

"What if he wants to apologize?"

"Who wants to apologize?" Josh asked, sitting in between the two girls.

"No one—"

"Harry."

"Eileen!"

"Oops!" Eileen covered her mouth with one hand and widened her eyes. "Sorry! Sorry! He won't tell anyone. I promise."

Josh frowned. "Couldn't even if I tried."

Maisy sighed. "It's fine. I just—"

"Hey guys…" Harry's deep voice interrupted their conversation, and they all shut their mouths.

Maisy held her breath and turned her head, tilting her chin up to look at his face. Harry stood right across from her with a soft smile on his face, hunching over the short table to give Eileen a kiss on the cheek and Josh a handshake. Her pulse raced, and her stomach fluttered. Oh God. She couldn't do that. She just… She couldn't.

She really couldn't.

It was too much.

So when he seemed to finally turn his head towards her, her eyes just darted to the other side, and she was up from her seat.

"Niall!" she shouted, her mouth curving into a wide smile as she raised her arm and waved to get her best friend's attention. "Hii!"

And before she knew it, she was off the table and away from him.

— — — — —

The music was louder than before, everyone seemed too drunk and sweaty, and it was definitely time for her to leave. But Maisy was having fun for the first time in three weeks, and she didn't want that feeling to end. She had cried too much, for too many days, and a night of laughter and dancing with her friends was all she needed to step out of that sadness.

Or, well, that's what she'd thought, at least.

Because, see? Maisy was having fun. Until, out of nowhere, her friends decided to start discussing her (nonexistent) lovelife. All over again.

"Horannnnn! C'mere!"

Callie waved, and Maisy dropped her head back.

"Nooooo!" she cried. "Stop!"

"Ladies," Niall said with a huge grin on his face, standing between Callie and Maisy and throwing one arm around each one. "What's the shouting all about?"

"Well…" Eileen said, wiggling her eyebrows and hiding a smirk behind the rim of her drink. "We want to know what's up with Harry."

"What? Why? What did he do now?" Niall dropped Callie and turned towards Maisy, placing both hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "Tell me and I'll kick his ass."

"Nothing!"

She really wanted them to stop. How was she supposed to stop thinking about Harry, if people kept constantly bringing him up?

"Mhm, nothing." Callie said. "He's just been fucking ogling her the entire night, that's all."

"Ohhh, that," Niall chuckled, throwing his arm around Maisy's shoulders one more time and then pulling her closer for half-a-hug. "Yeah, I know."

Lucie and Eileen squeaked, the first one quickly demanding an explanation, "What do you mean, yeah, I know?"

Maisy looked away.

Niall frowned. "Just… Yeah, I know he's been watching her?"

"Okay, but why is he watching her?"

He shrugged. "I guess he's just so used to it that he doesn't even notice, I don't know. You both should talk, though," —he tapped Maisy's shoulder— "he's honestly been miserable at work."

"And who's fault is that? Huh?" Callie straightened her back, crossing her arms on her chest. "Besides, he's too late, we're rooting for Max now."

"Uh, excuse me?" Eileen scoffed. "Honey, there's no way I'm rooting for Max. I'm totally team Harry."

"Yeah, I don't know," Lucie said. "I mean, I always felt like Maisy and Harry were end game, y'know?"

"Girls—"

"But he was such a dick to her!"

"Once, Callie. It was one questionable moment in five years, ok?"

"Yeahh! He's such a sweetheart. I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt."

"Ladies, hey—"

"Well, I don't. Max stepped up in one week and did something Harry couldn't in five years. That's the kind of man I want for my friend."

"Just let them," Maisy whispered, watching the way her three best friends argued about something that had nothing to do with them. And the exact topic she'd been trying to avoid the entire night. She loved them, she knew they meant well, and she knew they were all drunk, but they were definitely ruining the end of her night. She didn't want to talk about Max, and she didn't want to think about Harry. She just wanted to have fun. Why couldn't her friends let her have fun?

"Are you ok?" Niall asked, directly in Maisy's ear, then squeezed her shoulder.

"Mhm." She scoffed, and tilted her chin towards her friends. "I'm pretty sure if I walk out of here right now, they won't even notice."

"Wanna sit and chat for a bit?"

"Nahh…" She shook her head, then looked around, checking out the different groups of people surrounding them. There was a beat of silence between them, loudly filled by the music, and then she added, "I know he's been watching me."

Niall snorted. "Don't we all? Guy doesn't know how to be subtle."

Maisy's lips curled into a smile, and she looked down at her feet. "It doesn't matter, tho. He told me we're just friends, so… I don't know… I don't want to look too much into it."

"Right. Well…" Niall sighed. By then, he'd already chatted with Harry for weeks, till the point where it felt there was nothing left to talk about. So he knew his friend had fucked up things, but he also knew how deeply he regretted it. If things had happened in a different setting, under different circumstances, Harry's reaction would've been also different. Which is why he'd been feeling so guilty—he'd been the one to throw Harry off, when he knew both of them had more than a few beers in their system. And although he couldn't go back in time and change Harry's actions and words, he could try to make them talk again.

"Y'know," he started, and then took a pause to think about his next words. "When we talked at work, he told me that your kiss was just a kiss. So I asked if he had ever kissed Callie, or Lucie, or Eileen, right? And, like, he just went in shock, as if what I was saying was fucking absurd."

Maisy frowned. "I'm not following, Ni. I'm not drunk, but I'm definitely not sober enough to psychoanalyze stuff."

Niall chuckled, shaking his head and squeezing her shoulder. "My bad. What I mean is, he didn't think kissing you was absurd, but he thought kissing the other girls was, y'know? I guess he thought that it was so normal that it didn't mean anything."

"That doesn't make sense," Maisy laughed bitterly, shaking her head and taking a step back to look into Niall's eyes as she left her unfiltered thoughts out of her mind. "I don't want my kiss to feel normal, Ni, c'mon. If he didn't feel anything, if he didn't think about doing it again or, I don't know… If it didn't cross his mind even once, then why will I think he wants me? I hate that we're supposed to believe men feel something for us even when they don't say it, you know? Or that we're supposed to believe they love us when they say they hate us. If he can flirt with other girls and let them know he wants them, then why can't he do the same for me? I just—I can't be with someone who won't let me know they want me, okay? I can't. And I won't."

"You're right, yeah, sorry." Niall lowered his head and nodded, knowing she had a point. Maisy shouldn't wait around just because Harry wasn't ready to deal with his feelings, she had already talked to him about that and explained her point of view, and he understood where she was coming from. It wasn't Maisy who had to step up and do something about her feelings. Not anymore. Now Harry was the one who had to let her know how he felt. "'M sorry, Isy."

Maisy sighed, grabbed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I know. You're fine. Thanks for always listening."

"Anytime, love." He pulled her by the neck and kissed the side of her head, then let her go. "Look at that, now they walked away and we didn't even notice."

She looked around and chuckled, noticing her friends weren't near them anymore. She glanced back to their tables, then, where she found them dancing with the boys. Josh was there. Max was there. Franklin, Nick and Kevin were there. Ryan was there. And even Tommy had shown up again—attached to a girl Maisy had never seen before. Of course, since he stood next to her, Niall was missing. But besides him, the only one who wasn't around the table was… Harry.

And to be honest the thought shouldn't have crossed her mind. It shouldn't. And even when it already had, she shouldn't have looked around for him, because deep down she already knew where she would find him and what she would see, and she didn't want to go through that again.

It had been such a fun night, she'd felt so good again.

She didn't want to look for him.

And yet…

She did.

She let her eyes wander and stop right where he was, at the bar, wearing her favorite shirt.

Again, she should've looked away, but she didn't, because she wanted to know who he was talking to, who was standing in front of him while she only could see his back.

And if she had listened to all of those warnings voiced in her head, if she hadn't waited for him to move a little bit, and if she hadn't waited for the person in front of him to tilt their head to the side, she wouldn't have felt the air getting knocked out of her. Because she wouldn't have seen him there, talking again with that amazing girl from three weeks ago — the girl he was talking to when her own feelings ruined everything for him, and for them.

"C'mon… C'mon…" Maisy mumbled to herself. Her body shivered while she stared at her phone, watching as the Uber app tried to find her a driver, and she crossed one arm over her stomach.

She knew she should've worn a blazer instead of prioritizing not clashing her outfit. Or at least she should've been still inside, where it was warm and she could sit down — although that wasn't really an option, because it would've ruined her plans of sneaking out without Callie noticing.

She tapped her foot against the floor, glaring at her phone. It wasn't supposed to be taking this long, it wasn't supposed to be so hard to find a ride home.

Maybe she should just walk. She wasn't that far away from home…

No. Of course she shouldn't just walk. She wasn't stupid to walk by herself on a Saturday night, dressed like that, after having a few drinks.

Her phone buzzed, the app finally notifying she had a new driver. Leaning against the wall, Maisy sighed. Adam was only thirteen minutes away. Not as fast as she would've liked, but still better than nothing.

Taking in her surroundings, she blocked her phone and kept it tight between her fingers, then placed her arm on top of the other one. Hugging herself. Protecting herself from the coldness. And maybe even from the sadness.

The street was almost empty, only a couple of people standing on the sidewalk just like her, probably waiting to go home. And except for two or three cars rushing by here and there, there were no signs of anyone else driving around the city.

She looked down, and unlocked her phone.

Adam was currently twenty minutes away.

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," she muttered.

"Aha! There you are!"

Maisy moved her eyes up and to the side.

Niall beamed at her, one arm stretched out to keep the front door open.

"Max was just asking about you."

He looked inside the bar for a moment, then back at her, taking a step closer and letting his hand fall to his side. As he walked, though, the door remained open, until Harry walked through it and let it close behind him.

Maisy's lungs froze, and her heart thumped inside her chest.

"Are you leaving?" Niall asked.

Harry's eyes darted to her, and Maisy's eyes darted to Niall.

"Uh, yeah…" She nodded, blocking her phone and holding it tightly into a fist while she squeezed her crossed arms around her body. "I'm just waiting for my Uber."

"Huh." Niall flinched his head back, slightly wrinkling his brows. "Well, just so you know, Max is under the impression he is taking you home…"

Maisy sighed, and rolled her eyes. Unlike Callie, who'd been thrilled about Maisy going out with her boyfriend's best friend, and who thought Harry didn't deserve another single second of her time, Niall knew how guilty and conflicted she'd been feeling about going out with one friend just to get over another one. Even if it had been for only one date, and even if she wasn't planning on doing it again. And even if one friend was nothing like the other.

Because, yes, her friendship with Max was nothing compared to her friendship with Harry, but Maisy supposed Max would be what she considered just a friend to be, and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings like hers had been hurt.

Although, of course, Max didn't have actual feelings for her, he just fancied her — he fancied her a lot. So badly that he'd spent months waiting for the moment to ask her out. Something Harry had never, ever, cared to do.

Ugh.

"I know," she said, diverting her sight across the street before she gave in to the urge of looking at Harry. "I'm trying to leave before he finds me."

Niall chuckled, and Maisy bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile. It was shitty of her, she knew that, but at that moment she was too tired to care. She planned to text both him and Callie as soon as she got home. And she could've (and would've) done that by then already if the damn driver weren't taking so damn long.

"So," Niall said, "you're not going home with Max?"

Maisy shook her head.

"'Cause you don't want to go with him. Right?"

Pulling her eyebrows together, Maisy glanced at him. Was it really necessary for him to word it out like that? She was ready to call him out for asking such a question, when she caught him looking away from her. And then, out of instinct, she followed his line of vision. And before she could even notice and stop herself, she was looking at Harry as well.

Maisy's world stopped turning. All over again.

Different from them, Harry focused on the front door, moving his jaw and parting his lips as he chewed gum. Silent. Distracted. Hands hidden inside his pockets, shoulders slightly up. Unkempt curls pulled back on the top of his head, clearly getting stuck there after he'd ran his hand through them.

Maisy's belly fluttered. Everything about him was pretty, no wonder why he walked around so confident all the time. As if he owned the space.

She'd always found herself physically attracted to him, but since kissing him it seemed as if she couldn't hold herself anymore. And the fact that she knew so much about him only made it worse. Because there he was, wearing a shirt she loved so much that she'd borrowed it from him multiple times. And a shirt that, if things hadn't changed so much, and if their friendship hadn't been ruined by her stupid feelings, she knew she would've been wearing it right then and there—and then she wouldn't have been feeling so cold.

Damn.

What was he thinking? What was he looking at? Was he paying any attention to their conversation? Was he waiting for someone? Oh God. Was he waiting for… For that girl? Was she going to be forced to watch them leave together? Go home together? Oh no.

No, no, no.

Please, no.

Where the hell was Adam?

Maisy glanced at her phone just as it buzzed in her hand. She read the notification, dropping her shoulders and closing her eyes.

"C'mon," she murmured, taking her free hand up to her face and pinching her forehead. "Fuck."

She was so tired. All the fun she'd had with her friends came to an end the moment she saw Harry and that girl talking, and she didn't deserve to have to stand there and watch even more of that. Or to have to hide from her friends. Or to have to stand by herself on a cold night in the middle of the street. All she wanted was to go home, hide under the blankets, and cry.

"Isy, hey," Niall called, his voice much softer and closer than before. He stood next to her with worry in his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and letting go of whatever he was saying before. "What's wrong?"

Maisy shook her head, taking her hand away from her face and wiping a tear from under her eye. No more crying Maisy. No more crying.

"Nothing… Just…" She blinked, then stared at her phone. "My uber. He canceled."

"Ok…" Niall tilted his head, trying to get her attention. Or maybe trying to get a look at her face. Or maybe trying to read her emotions. Or maybe just trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Can't you just get another one?"

"Well," she muttered, peering at him through the corner of her eyes whilst sliding her thumb across the screen. "I'm not stupid, am I?"

Niall frowned. "No, I—"

"What do you think I've been trying to do for the past twenty minutes?"

"Sorry, I—"

"I can give you a ride," Harry said.

Both Maisy and Niall jolted, then turned their heads to look at him. Although he kept his distance, Harry had gotten noticeably closer as well, standing only a few inches behind his friend. Niall seemed to notice that, too, taking a step aside and dropping Maisy's shoulder as he turned to give him some space.

And then, as Harry fixed his forest-green eyes into hers, and as Maisy kept her head turned to the side and stared back at him, the entire world seemed to — once again — stop around her. There was nothing but empty and silent distance standing between them, and every nerve in her body seemed to tingle. Desperate to run towards him. Desperate to say yes and let him not only take her home but also make her a cup of tea before going to bed. Desperate to let him wrap his arms around her and fall asleep breathing into her neck as if that was something just friends normally did.

She squeezed her phone between her fingers, tightly, and made sure to hold as much air as possible in her lungs. Because she truly missed him. She missed being his friend, she missed talking to him, she missed answering his calls. She missed making him laugh, and she missed feeling silly next to him. She missed being able to be near him whenever she wanted to, and she missed hugging him just because she could.

But she also really wanted him. And although she had always wanted him, now it was definitely worse. Almost unbearable. Because now, as she looked at his pinkish and soft lips, she also missed feeling them against the curve of her neck. And as she admired his growing facial hair, she also missed feeling the scratchiness under the palm of her hands as she cradled his cheeks and kissed the hell out of him. And as her body quivered under the intensity of his green gaze, she missed the tingling between her legs caused by the strong grip of his manly hands.

Maisy hadn't been able to taste all of him, but she'd tasted enough to be scarred for the rest of her life. And it hurt to know he didn't want her back. It really did.

"Shit," Niall cursed, then coughed.

Maisy blinked, finally breaking away from the spell Harry had put her under and facing forward, where her friend was supposed to be. When she didn't find him, though, she straightened up and stepped away from the wall, scanning around the street.

"Where—"

"I forgot my jacket!" Niall shouted.

Following his voice, she got a glimpse of him behind Harry, by the front door, already taking a step into the club.

"Be right back guys!"

And just like that the door closed, and there was nobody else around.

Nobody but her.

And him.

Nobody but them.

Emptiness dropped in the pit of her stomach, and her chest tightened.

Shit.

She took a deep breath in, folding her arms and rubbing her forearm with her free hand. She didn't know where to look. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. Her heart was racing, and she could feel her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Was she supposed to just stand there?!

Peeking at him, she could only see his back. Harry stood ahead of her and to her side, facing the door where Niall had just walked through. Frozen. Hands still inside his pockets, but shoulders more relaxed than before.

Second went by as silence completely engulfed them. But then he chuckled, looking down and shaking his head while his shoulders moved up and down.

The sound hit Maisy's brain first, and then it bounced to her chest, suddenly reminding her to breathe again. Her lips curved up, and she licked them before swallowing her feelings down her throat. That was not the time, nor place, to find joy in the sound of his laughter.

Harry turned around, still laughing.

"What?" she asked — although she wasn't expecting to.

"It's just…" He covered his face with one hand, then slid it up his forehead and ran his fingers through his curls. Calming himself down. "Niall."

"Oh…" She furrowed her brows. "Okay?"

"I mean," he added, dropping his hand back down and looking at her. Beaming. Glowing. "He's so fucking stupid. I just remembered he didn't even bring a jacket."

Maisy widened her eyes, then she nodded. "Ohhh…"

Although she didn't want to, she couldn't help but laugh, too. Maybe not out of happiness, but because Niall could be really silly when he wanted to be. And maybe because it was nice that Harry had felt comfortable enough to share that with her. Maybe because finally, after weeks, they were finally sharing a nice moment together.

Although, of course, that didn't erase the fact that things weren't okay between them.

She faced forward, across the street and away from him, shaking her head while her entire body shivered.

"How subtle," she added, placing her folded arms over her stomach and smashing her phone into her side. She still hadn't tried to find another driver, and although she knew she should've, she didn't want to take the risk of having to walk away from him. Not so soon. Not right then.

"Right?"

The smile was obvious in his voice, and Maisy was just so hyper-aware of his every moment. Of every detail. Absorbing way more than she'd ever absorbed before. Feeling him way more than she'd ever felt him before.

And Harry didn't make it easy, because he didn't stop moving. He shuffled on his feet, stepping closer while shoving both hands back into his pockets. He breathed in, then heavily breathed out, taking his time to walk until he was in front of her and she didn't have a choice but to look at him.

He buried his hypnotizing eyes into hers, and Maisy curled her toes inside her boots — desperate to stay grounded and hold her balance.

Harry didn't look happy, he didn't look mad, and he didn't look sad.

He looked honest, he looked available, and he looked familiar.

He looked like her best friend.

And it hurt, because there was nothing Maisy wanted more than to go back to what they were before, but as they both stood like that for a moment — silently watching each other, and silently waiting for each other — she realized that it was something she would never get to have again.

How could she? If she wasn't able to be around him without hiding her feelings anymore? If she wouldn't be able to see him dating someone — falling in love with someone — without feeling betrayed and heartbroken? Maybe she'd misinterpreted his actions before, but now that she knew he didn't feel the same way, it wouldn't be fair to hold it against him. She needed to grow out of her feelings, and in order to do so things needed to change. She wouldn't be able to keep interacting with him like she did before.

"I meant it, you know?" he said, pulling her out of her mind. "About giving you a ride home."

Maisy blinked.

"Thank you," she murmured, shuffling on her feet and shrugging. "I'm just… I don't know if that's a good idea."

Harry nodded. He looked down and between their feet, then back into her eyes.

"Just so you know," he said, leaving all traces of playfulness behind, "I'm not leaving with her."

Maisy pulled her eyebrows together, and it took her another pause until she could open her mouth and ask, "W—what?"

"I know you saw me talking to that girl, the one from that night," he explained, taking a short step towards her, "but nothing happened between me and her. And nothing was going to. I swear."

Maisy blinked.

"Oh, okay."

There was a pause.

A pause in which, against her better judgment, she didn't avoid the intensity of his eyes. And a pause in which, as seconds went by, she was easily consumed by the calmness, the confidence, and the assurance he exuded.

Still, it was hard to figure out what was happening, or where he was trying to get to. She tried to read his expression, tried to understand his emotions, tried to get a sense of his thoughts. But she couldn't. So she asked, "Why?"

Harry slid his tongue between his lips, then tilted his head. "Why?"

"Yeah…" Maisy shrugged. "I mean, you were really into her, so… Why?"

He curled his mouth into a timid smile, breathing out his answer as if he couldn't believe he had to say that out loud, "Isy… I was an asshole and hurt your feelings because I wasn't aware of things, but I would never do that knowing—"

"Oh my—"

"—what I know now and—"

"Stop." She raised her hand, the one still gripping that stupid phone, and Harry closed his mouth. "You don't—" She took a deep breath, putting her thoughts in order. "You don't need to stop yourself just because I have feelings for you."

"No, I know. I—"

"Harry, look," she said, putting her hand down and taking a step back from him. "I never meant for you not to go out with her, ok? Or anyone else, for that matter… I can't stop you from fancying people... So if you want to be with her, I mean, you don't need to stop yourself just… Just because you feel sorry for me, okay?"

He closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath, then dropped his head back and looked at the sky for a moment. He didn't have to say anything for her to know that he was thinking about her words, and that he was taking them in before saying something back to her.

Maybe that's why Maisy didn't rush him. And why she distracted herself by watching the way his throat flexed when he swallowed, and the way he softly moved his jaw as he chewed his gum. His facial hair was always kind of longer on his neck, and also kind of messier — something she tended to forget, because it wasn't really noticeable unless he threw his head back. Just like then.

"I know that," he said, once again pulling her out of her mind. "Sorry."

She blinked, watching with blurry eyes as he rolled his shoulders and fixed his eyes back on hers.

"That came out wrong and it wasn't actually answering your question. I didn't walk away from her because I felt sorry for you. I walked away from her because I didn't want to stay there, because I wasn't—I mean, because I'm not interested."

"Oh…" Maisy barely whispered, his words echoing inside her. Then what… What was he doing? What was she supposed to do with that information? What difference did it make? She breathed out through her nose and licked her lips, squishing her eyebrows together and flinching her head back slightly. "Then why… Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know. I guess…" he said into her eyes, pausing to close his mouth and chew his gum as he took a tiny step closer to her. "I guess I just want to make sure you don't leave tonight thinking something happened between me and her. Because it didn't, and it won't. Not her, not anyone else."

Speechless and breathless, Maisy remained lost inside his eyes. It was hard to make sense of what he was saying, and it was even harder to understand if he meant something else between the lines. Was he making sure she wouldn't cry when she got home? Was he simply protecting a friend? Or was he hoping for something more?

She shook her head and took a step back. See? She couldn't do that. She couldn't be his friend when she would be constantly hoping for something more to be in between the lines. That wasn't healthy. And it wasn't fair. "I— I can't… I—"

"Wait, no!" He took a step forward and raised one arm, then immediately dropped it back to his side. Closing his hand into a fist and opening it up again, he softened the tone of his voice and pleaded, "I'm sorry. I don't… I don't know what to do or… Or what to say to make things right. I don't want to overstep, but I also don't want you to think I don't care about losing you, because I do. I care so much, Isy… And it's been killing me."

"I hate this," she said, dropping her chin down and hiding her face behind her hands. Everything hurt — her stomach hurt, her chest hurt, her head hurt. "I didn't… I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't want this to happen."

And then, she cried.

"It wasn't… It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Gimme that," he murmured, closing off the distance and taking her phone away from her hand—and from her face. Maisy sobbed, and tears fell down, but she also chuckled, because even amidst everything, Harry was still the same friend who would point out how it wasn't his fault that her bags were too small to carry her things, and yet would always end up keeping whatever she needed safe into his pockets anyway.

"I know, ok? I know," he added, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her to fully cry into his chest. "And I'm sorry, ok?" He placed his cheek on the side of her head, speaking into her ear. "I really am. I'm the one who messed everything up and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you cry. And I'm sorry for all the times I made you feel less important than you actually are."

Warmth filled up her body, and she sobbed again, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter while pressing her forehead against her hands, and her hands against his chest.

"There are so many things I should've done differently when it comes to us… I know that. And I'm sorry, ok? I am. I don't want to lose you, Isy. I really want to fix this. Please let me try to fix it."

Maisy breathed out through her nose and nodded, letting her hands fall from her face and throwing her arms around his waist.

"Jesus fucking Christ thanks God," Harry instantly breathed out, smashing her even tighter into him and pushing them both towards the wall.

She blinked her eyes open and chuckled, letting more tears fall down and sniffing while turning her head to the side and pressing her ear against his chest. They both shuffled and stumbled, trying to keep up with their clumsy tiny steps until her back hit the wall. Harry stopped and sighed, and Maisy felt every bit of the relief rushing through him — the way he heavily moved his chest up and down, the way he shivered, the way he squeezed her. It was contagious, and it had her sighing as well. Loosening up all the tension. Melting into him.

"I missed you," he whispered, taking one hand to her head and threading his fingers through her hair.

He stroked her scalp — just like she loved — and Maisy bit her lip, closing her eyes while getting drunk on his cologne. That was exactly where she wanted to be. How she wanted to be. With his heart thumping loudly into her ear, his warmth enveloping her body, his masculine and strong scent filling her lungs.

Sniffing again, she took one hand up to her face and wiped under her nose, exhaling a groan through her mouth. "Ugh… I'm a mess."

"I don't care."

Maisy rolled her eyes, rubbing her cheeks as best as she could while still caged inside his arms. "But I do."

"Shhhh…" He swagged them gently, then grabbed her wrist and took it back around his waist. "Got a lot of fixing to do, I know. But I missed this, so let me enjoy it."

She sighed, holding her own forearms as she rested her arms on his lower back. No matter how hard she tried to be mad at him, she didn't feel like she actually could. Harry had overreacted and hurt her feelings, sure, but it had been the first and only slip in a friendship that had already lasted five years. He was a great guy, and she knew that — of course Maisy knew that. And maybe that is why the words ended up rolling out of her mouth so naturally when she said, "I missed this, too."

"Yeah?" He scratched the back of her head with his short nails, then kissed her hair. "Do you think…" — another kiss, and another one— "Do you think you'll be able to forgive me?"

Hadn't she already?

"I don't…" She cleared her throat, getting rid of the scratchiness from her previous crying. Staring ahead to the empty street, she nuzzled against his chest, then started again. "I don't think it's about forgiveness… I think… I think I just need time."

"Right," Harry murmured, and a moment of silence lingered between them. "Time for what, exactly?"

"It's just… You already know how I feel about you, and I don't think I can be your friend right now."

"Why not?"

"Harry." She rolled her eyes and pulled away, tilting her chin up to look at him while he followed her lead and angled his head down to look at her. He was close — really close — and she had to withdraw her arms from his back to be able to create some more distance between them.

Harry moved, too, letting her go and taking half a step back.

And Maisy hated it.

She wanted to be glued to him all over again.

"Don't make this even harder than it needs to be," she added.

"I'm sorry, I'm not… I'm not trying to make this harder. I just want to understand, that's all."

"Is it really that hard to understand that I can't be your friend when I have feelings for you?"

Harry frowned. "To be honest, yes. Why can't we be friends?"

"Oh my God," she laughed, but mostly because she couldn't believe how dense he was. If what he needed was for her to spell it out to him, then she would, but only because she couldn't handle all the weirdness and the running around circles anymore. "Harry, you're not just a friend to me, ok? And when I say that I have feelings for you, that means that I want you, ok? I want you so much Harry, and I can't stop thinking about it. It's like… It's like I can't pretend that I don't anymore because that's all I think about. All the time. Every time I look at you I can't stop thinking about how much I want to be with you, and every time I see you with a girl I can't stop thinking about how much I wish that was me. And maybe it was fine before, but we kissed and now… Now I just… I just can't, ok? That's why I need some time. Because I can't pretend anymore and I can't—"

"Then don't." He stepped closer again, instantly placing his palms on her cheeks and cradling her face.

Staring into her eyes, Harry was so filled with emotions and so determined to hold her close that her body quivered. And her belly fluttered. And her heart sped up.

Maisy blinked. "What?"

"Don't pretend you don't." he said, not even once faltering his gaze away from hers. "Let me know how much you want me. I wanna know, ok? I want to know how I make you feel. And I want to keep making you feel this way for me. Or more, or better, I don't know. I just… I want all of this with you. I want you, ok?"

With widened eyes, Maisy breathed in and out through her nose. Quickly. Shortly. Desperately. Making her chest go up and down erratically.

"I…"

No more words came out of her brain, and Maisy froze like that. Blinking at him with parted lips and out of breath.

Harry's eyes flicked to her mouth, then traveled back to her eyes. With featherly touches, he brushed his thumbs up and down her cheeks, then bowed closer.

"So don't stay away," he murmured, glancing at her lips once more before closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. "Don't take some time. And don't stop thinking about me. Yeah? I didn't react properly the first time, but I love the fact that you have feelings for me. Don't get rid of them, please."

She grabbed his wrists, keeping his touch in place while closing her eyes, too. "Please don't… Don't say those things if you don't mean them."

He shook his head, and his nose nudged hers.

"You know I wouldn't," he said, breathing warmly into her face. "I would never—I want you, Isy. I want you and I want you way more than just a friend."

And just like that first time, back at her place, Maisy knew it was about to happen. It was written all over him, and it burned inside her. It made her tremble—out of excitement, out of nervousness, out of fear, and out of anticipation.

So she squeezed his wrists, and fluttered her eyes open.

"Let's…" She swallowed, aware of the closeness between them. "Let's get out of here."

Still leaning into her forehead with his eyes open, Harry nodded. He took another moment to breathe in deeply, then opened his eyes, too.

"Ok," he said, drawing sweet circles around her cheekbones before dropping his hands off her face. He met her palms in the process, though, and they automatically held each other, intertwining their fingers together while stepping away from the wall. "C'mon, then."

"Niall's going home with Eileen and Josh," Harry said, putting his phone back into his pocket. He threw his arm over Maisy's shoulder and looked side to side, then pulled her closer and guided her to cross the street along with him. "So we're good to go."

Maisy bit her lip and nodded, placing one arm around his waist while holding his hand on her shoulder with the other one.

Harry had told her he'd parked around the corner and further down the street, and although he'd already driven Maisy home many-multiple-hundred-thousands of times, and for many-multiple-hundred-thousands reasons, it was safe to say she'd never felt that much anticipation about being alone inside his car with him.

"By the way," he said, leaning to kiss the top of her head and speaking into her hair, "remind me to get him a bottle of something, yeah? Feel like I owe him big time."

She smiled, turning her head to nuzzle into their touching shoulders as Harry took his free hand to the back of her head and stroked her gently. He chuckled and kissed her hair one more time, then faced forward when she did, and dropped his hand to meet her one on his waist. After that, he didn't say anything, neither pressured her to say something back to him, walking in silence as they both hurried to reach their destination.

It was weird, the apparent sudden need they had to be close to each other. To touch each other. Hands grabbing hands, arms giving hugs, sides touching sides. As if they needed reassurance of each other's presence. Or as if they wanted to make sure they wouldn't vanish.

It'd started as soon as they'd walked away from the club, when they failed so badly at keeping any distance that they kept constantly stumbling into each other's feet. They eventually found a rhythm and a way to hold each other that suited both of them, but that need to stay close (close, close, close) didn't change as seconds—and then minutes—went by. It didn't change when Harry walked to a trash can to spit his gum, and even less when he took his shirt off and placed it over her cold shoulders. It also didn't change when Harry slowed down to get the keys from his pocket, nor when he opened the door of the passenger side for her to get inside.

"So…" he said, placing his hands on her hips and guiding her to stand between him and the opened door, "Where am I taking you now?"

She placed her hands on his chest, now covered only by his white t-shirt, and tilted her head to look up at him. Harry wanted her. He'd said so, and she didn't think he would ever lie to her—not about something like that, at least. And yet, her mind couldn't stop wondering. So instead of guessing the answer, she decided to openly ask him.

"Do you still mean the things you said?"

Harry nodded. "Every single word."

"About everything? I mean, do you really want me?"

Curling his mouth into a smile, he sneaked his hands under her shirt—his shirt—and slid his arms around her waist, resting them on her lower back and right above the curve of her bum.

"I really, really want you, Isy," he said, straight into her eyes.

"Why? What changed?"

"Nothing changed," he eagerly answered, and then he slowed down a bit. "I think… I just… I don't know."

He dipped his chin down and drew his sight off from her eyes, then shuffled slightly on his feet. "I think I just wasn't able to put two and two together by myself… That's all."

He shrugged, and Maisy bit the insides of her bottom lip.

In five years, she had never pictured a less confident side of him. Harry was the kind of guy that always managed to be proud of himself, and that always found a positive outcome in every situation. All the time. Even in his most embarrassing moments. So it was honestly weird to see him act like that.

At the same time, the prospect of having new things to learn about him felt really nice. And exciting. Something she wouldn't be able to do if she didn't lay all of her cards on the table. Right there and then.

"That day…" she said, pausing to lick her lips and breathe in. Gathering the strength to point out the thing that had hurt her the most. "Harry, that day you really made me feel like I was getting in your way of—"

"Ugh. I know—"

"—being with that girl and—"

"—I know. I'm sorry, 'm sorry."

He grunted and cursed, pulling her closer and hiding on the curve of her neck. And Maisy let him, closing her mouth and listening to whatever he had to say. Just like she had done that other night.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I don't… I don't have any excuses for the way I reacted. I know that. I—Fuck." Pulling away to look into her eyes again, he took one hand off from her back and placed it on her cheek, tenderly but firmly holding her as he kept talking. "It caught me off guard and I… I fucked up, I know. But I would choose you over absolutely anyone and everyone, Isy. Anytime. No doubts."

His words hit deeply inside her, and a warm glow flowed all over her. A joyful glow. As if her body had burst with bright, sparkling, and multicolored bubbles.

So she bit her lip, and twisted the neckline of his t-shirt around her fingers.

It was hard to know what was the right thing to do. Rationally, her mind told her to not make it so easy for him. To give it some time, and see if he was actually telling the truth. If he actually meant it.

On the other hand, despite everything, her heart knew what it wanted. She believed his words, she believed he wouldn't intentionally hurt her, and she believed people deserved the benefit of the doubt. More than anything, she also wanted to believe that if she ever made a mistake, the people that she cared about would give her a second chance. So why couldn't she do the same?

"I know," she said, so softly she wasn't even sure he would be able to hear her. But then Harry brushed his thumb on her cheekbone, acknowledging her words, and she immediately kept going. "And I believe you're sorry. I do. I just… I think I'm scared, or… I don't know. I convinced myself you didn't want to be with me in that way, so… I don't know…" She shook her head. "I don't know."

He nodded, drawing gentle circles on her cheek. "Niall said… He said something about how you don't think I'm attracted to you, is that true?"

Maisy widened her eyes. "Oh my God! Niall told you that?"

"I mean—"

"What else did he say?!"

"Nothing! He just—"

"I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

Harry pursed his lips, and then laughed.

"It's not funny!"

She pinched the exposed skin on his chest, and Harry jolted.

"Ouch!" He looked back at her with both a frown and a smile on his face. "What was that for?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe for yelling at me for talking to Niall instead of talking to you? And then you talking to Niall instead of talking to me?"

"Right… Ok, yes. I can see you have a point there, but in my defense—"

"There's no defense!" She pinched him (again), and Harry jolted (again). He took the hand on her face to rub the new stinging inch of skin on his chest, smiling while she kept lashing out at him. "Can't believe you two, honestly! Dickheads! Gossiping like two little—"

"Ok," he said, taking his index finger to her mouth and pressing it into her lips. "Listen to me, woman."

Maisy narrowed her eyes at him, but she suddenly didn't have anything else to say, so she exhaled heavily through her nose and consented to his demand (albeit silently and annoyingly).

"Good." Staring into her eyes, he slid the pad of his finger side to side, slightly brushing it to her parted lips. "Niall was just calling me out for not letting you know how I feel, ok? That's all."

Harry glanced at her mouth, then switched his index finger with his thumb. The place he both touched and stared at seemed to buzz, and heat bloomed through her cheeks. From then on, no matter how much she tried to keep paying attention to his explanation, she simply couldn't put the information together anymore.

"Told me you didn't think I fancy you," he added, just as entranced with the movement of his thumb as she felt, "and that you couldn't read my mind, so if I wanted things to change…"

He put more pressure to his finger and pushed his way between her lips, bumping into her teeth. "I had to show you."

Intoxicated and absorbed, Maisy bit into his short nail, holding him there.

Harry smirked, and met her eyes once again. "Or something like that…"

It was hard to tell what was going through Maisy's mind, then. Mostly because she couldn't care less about her rational thoughts anymore. She didn't want to think anymore. She didn't want to know about Niall's suggestions—or whatever he said—and she didn't want to hear Harry's apologies anymore. All she wanted was to feel, so that's exactly what she did.

Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she leaned in, then slithered her teeth through his nail, stopping where the skin of his thumb began. His fingertip rested on the tip of her tongue, and her belly quivered and swirled in expectation of his reaction.

To her delight, Harry sank his shoulders and gawked at her. Some new, dazzling determination took over him, and even his eyes seemed to darken as he shifted his arm around her lower back and pulled her closer. Gripping at her side with one hand, he moved his other one and got deeper into her mouth, pressing his thumb in, in, in, until her teeth clamped around his first knuckle.

Maisy molded her lips around his shortest and chubbiest digit, keeping it locked between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She tasted him softly, running slow circles with her tongue while still watching him. Harry faintly smirked, so much that it was almost undetectable, and she took that as a challenge. Because she wanted more. She wanted more reactions, and she wanted more actions. So she placed both of her hands around his wrist and closed her eyes, then sucked his finger in.

Harry stiffened at first, and then he cursed, breathing out heavily through his mouth while taking a tiny step forward and spreading his other four fingers open on her face.

"Damn, Isy…" he murmured.

The admiration, pride, and approval in his voice cracked something inside her, and a very familiar feeling pulsed through her veins. It made her go all slippery and quivery. And it brought wet heat between her legs.

Bold and fearless, Maisy swirled her tongue and hummed. Making it dirtier than it needed to be. Making it louder. Making it wetter.

And he didn't seem to mind it. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it just as much and encouraged her to go even further, moving his thumb side to side while digging his other four fingers into the skin of her cheek and neck.

It was so good. So unexpected. And so desperate.

To put so much energy into something like sucking a finger. To feel herself going mindless as she tightened his wrist between her hands and brought him closer, then sucked him deeper. Breathing in and out through her nose, then completely forgetting about their surroundings and pushing her head down to fit his whole finger inside. And losing herself as she sucked. And sucked. All over again.

"Jesus Christ," Harry murmured, backing her into the back door of his car, tilting her head up and pulling his thumb off from her mouth. "That's enough."

Everything happened so fast, that before she could even process the information or blink her eyes open, Harry had already pressed his lips to hers in a desperate move.

They first met awkwardly and clumsily, hitting each other's cheeks and chins. But then Harry cradled her jaw and kept her in place, taking the lead and capturing her lips for a much hungrier and experienced kiss.

A soft tingle ran between her legs, and Maisy moaned softly, so softly she barely even noticed it. She dragged her hands up to his shoulders, then to his neck, and to the back of his head. Harry hummed, and she threaded her fingers between his curls and tugged, standing on her tiptoes and parting her lips to take things further. Searching for his tongue while he searched for hers. Tasting each other with the same devotion and effort she had just tasted his thumb. Moving in perfect sync, and making sure to taste every corner and every inch.

Harry dropped his hand from her face to her bum, giving it a rough and forceful squeeze and sucking all the air around them through his nose.

Maisy hummed, holding onto his hair tightly as she rolled her hips forward. Harry smirked into the kiss, then slid his other arm down, filling both of his hands with her ass. He squeezed her again, this time digging his nails into both of her cheeks and pulling her forward while he also stepped closer, and finally fully pressing their hips together.

His growing bulge nudged between her legs, and a gasped moan came out of her throat.

"Fuck," he breathed out, breaking the kiss to roll his hips on hers.

"Oh God…" she sighed, taking the opportunity to drag her wet lips to his jaw. That was so embarrassing. Maisy had to stop. She really had to stop. She needed to stop. They both needed to stop. And yet she couldn't. She didn't want to. Because Harry was getting hard while making out with her. She could feel him pressed against her hips and she didn't want to lose the feeling. She didn't want to step away. So she didn't. She moved her mouth thoughtlessly, instead, savoring as much as she could of him. Feeling his stubble under her tongue, and his scent under her nose.

"Fuck," he murmured, timidly rubbing himself up and down her front. "That's…" He swallowed. "Feels good, baby."

Maisy hummed, mapping kisses from his jaw, to his ear. She tangled her fingers around his curls, holding her weight while speaking softly and as close to him as she could. "Take me home, Haz."

"Mhmm…" Harry nodded, his hair brushing her temple.

She moved back towards his cheek, leaving a wet trail behind while making his mouth her final destination.

"Please?" she asked, then kissed him shortly.

"Sure." He nodded again, leaning in— "Anything you want." —and kissing her again.

Maisy smiled. The way he seemed enraptured by her was cute and sweet, but also extremely arousing. She could only imagine the things they would do under the influence of that dynamic, and she couldn't wait to find out. But the only way she would be able to do all the things she wanted to do was if they weren't standing in the middle of the street, only two blocks and a half away from their friends. So she sucked his bottom lip and pulled away, letting it slide softly between her teeth while stroking his scalp.

"Now," she whispered, watching him stand there, at her mercy, with closed eyes and parted mouth. "Take me home, Harry, please."

He opened his eyes.

"Wha—" He licked his lips, and shook his head. "I mean, yes." Out of breath, he nodded once, and then twice, and then thrice. "Yeah. Ok. Home. Yes."

Maisy giggled. Still caressing the back of his head, she flinched her chin back and pulled away slightly, only to be able to watch him better. "You okay?"

"Dunno. Think 'm high right now."

She frowned, holding herself from laughing any louder than she should. "High?!"

"Mhm. Pretty sure I got high from your kisses."

"Oh my God." Maisy snorted. She placed her hands on his shoulders and shoved him off, but his hands on her ass didn't allow her to put any actual distance between them.

"Think I developed an addiction—"

"Shut up."

"—and your mouth is my drug—"

" — Harry! — "

" — I need more — "

" — You're ridiculous—"

" — Gimme more — "

He kissed her again, and although Maisy couldn't stop laughing at how lame and silly he was, she still kissed him back. He smirked, seemingly proud of her reaction, then moved his large hand to her face and cradled her cheek, leading the way into a much slower and tender pace. His mouth was suddenly gentle, moving carefully while discovering a new side of their relationship. Not a desperate and hungry version, like it'd been up until then, but a smooth and thoughtful one. Made of sweet and calm kisses. Of gentle pecks, and timid tugs. Of wet lips, and honest affection.

Eventually, their eagerness toned down, dissolving into a different kind of longing for each other. Less desperate on one hand, but much more intense on the other.

Harry sighed, then broke off the kiss.

"Let's go," — he pecked her lips one — "then." — two — "Let's go home." — three — "Mine," — four times — "Or yours?"

One last kiss, lingering longer than the others, and Maisy finally blinked her eyes open. Harry's hand was warm on her cheek, and she felt herself needily nuzzling against it. She took a minute to catch her breath, and also to adjust to the dim lights, taking the opportunity to meet his touch with her own hand and turning her face just enough to press a kiss to his palm. Then, she whispered, "Yours… Take me back to yours."

He leaned in to kiss her temple, then brushed his lips on her skin as he spoke. "Back to mine it is, then."

— — — — —

In five years, Harry had already driven Maisy home, to the grocery store, to parties, from parties, to work, from work, to the hospital, to Niall's, and even back to her parents house.

In the process, Maisy had watched him a lot. She had watched him enough to memorize the way he would spread his legs and switch his foot between pedals, the way he would relax into the car seat and blindly shift gears, or the way he would place his elbow by the window and hold the steering wheel with one hand. More than not, she'd admired him secretly, too pent-up to say anything, and too afraid to let him show how much he affected her. Only a few times she had been brave enough to praise him out loud, although usually hiding behind some joke about how much he tried to look cool while driving, and never admitting how deeply attracted to him she actually felt.

That day though, as he drove them back to his apartment, whilst everything seemed to be still the same between them, everything seemed to be just as different and new. Because now, while she watched him turn the steering wheel, she also couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened in the middle of the street. And now, as she watched him flex his arms and shift gears, she also couldn't stop thinking about the feeling that kept dripping out between her legs.

"You're staring," Harry said, stopping at the traffic light. He turned his head to the side and smiled, sliding his now free hand against hers and intertwining their fingers once again.

Biting her lip, Maisy tried her best not to beam at him. It was useless, though, and her mouth ended up curling into the biggest and most genuine grin.

"I am," she laughed, then shrugged. "You look hot when you drive."

Harry widened his eyes, but there was a twinkle behind his gaze that made her feel comfortable about his reaction. As if the shock of her words did nothing but please him.

"Hot?" He squeezed her palm. "You think?"

Maisy nodded.

"I do, yeah… It's just… Hard to look away."

"Hmm…" Slowly, he let go of her hand, then placed his palm on her thigh, spreading his fingers open and digging them slightly into her flesh. "Keep looking, then."

Heat spread under her skin, and goosebumps rose all over. Harry's hand was large and heavy, and it covered so much of her leg that it was hard not to pay attention to it, or to ignore how close it was to a place she didn't think he would ever actually be. And yet a place that he had teased just minutes earlier. A place that he had rolled and pressed himself against. A place that he had fully woken up that night.

And judging by the way he grasped her in that exact moment, and by the way he had touched her earlier—so thirsty to squeeze and press her closer—Maisy knew he would be good at… Everything. She knew he would be the one to match the expectations no other guy had been able to match up until then. And she knew that he would be the one to set her body on a whole new level of fire. Not because other guys hadn't been good—after all she'd had some pretty great sexual experiences in her life—but because he was different to her. They felt different.

And she wanted to get a taste of that. She wanted to have him. She wanted him to touch her. And she wanted it all right now.

"Ugh." Maisy shuffled on the passenger seat and looked away from him, watching the empty street and covering the back of his hand with her palm. "Why is your place so far away?"

Harry smirked, and although she couldn't see him, she could feel the burning of his eyes all over her chest.

"It's not, actually," he said, so low and so husky that it felt almost calculated. As if he knew the effect it would have on her. "I think you're just eager to get there."

He squeezed her thigh, getting his fingertips just a little bit deeper into her, and Maisy faced him again.

If he wanted to play that game, then she would play it just as well.

Staring into his eyes, she scooched down a little, then dragged his hand along with hers. Sliding it just an inch up through her thigh. "I think I am, yes."

His gaze faltered for a moment, dropping down to where she was guiding their touch. Maisy bit her lip, enjoying his attentiveness, and kept moving their hands, stopping only when his pinky finger reached the crease between her thigh and her pelvis. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed her body, pinching her flesh with his fingers.

Maisy sighed, hypnotized on how pretty and hot and cute and manly he looked. All at the same time.

"Aren't you?" she asked, making sure her voice acted as a mirror of her current feelings, and sharing with him the sensual and confident side of her. One she had never been able to show him before, but was dying to.

Harry licked his lips and exhaled through his nose, then looked back at her face. He blinked a couple of times, then asked, "Hm? Am I what?"

Holding back a smile, she slid her fingers up his wrist, freeing his hand from her touch at the same time she brought her other hand around and placed it on her other inner thigh.

"Eager," she murmured. She squeezed her own leg, just like he'd done it before, and made her way up to the place her body most wanted him to be. "To get home… And touch me."

"Jesus Christ." Harry looked between her legs and swallowed, sinking his nails so deeply into her flesh that Maisy couldn't help but hiss at the pain.

Moving her palm from her inner thigh to the back of his hand, she finally directed him to her burning and aching center. She circled her other fingers around his forearm, holding tightly onto him, and rolled her hips timidly, subtly. Almost as if she didn't want him to see it—but also making sure he would not only see it, but that he would also feel it.

"I want you to touch me," she murmured, rolling her hips for a second time.

He dug the heel of his palm between her legs, then pressed his fingertips onto her center. "I can see that."

"You don't want to?"

Harry glared at her. Something seemed to have snapped inside him, and his voice got darker when he asked, "What do you think?"

Maisy shrugged, trying hard to create complete, full, coherent sentences while Harry's hand was finally there. "I hope you do. And that I'm not embarrassing myself."

He stroked his fingers through her wetness, curling his fingers and meeting his own palm as he grabbed between her legs—so harshly and so firmly that Maisy closed her eyes and squirmed on the passenger seat. She gasped quietly, leaning into his arm and pressing her forehead near his shoulder. Fully letting him take over the situation.

"I like this side of you." He loosened up his fingers, then moved them up and down, over and over again, spreading her wetness as best as he could despite the layers of clothes that covered her. "Almost made me lose my game over there. But look at you now… Did you always feel like this?"

"Oh God," she mouthed onto his bicep. The fabric of her pants, plus her thong, didn't allow her to feel him properly, but she felt enough to quiver from head to toe, and enough to make her want more.

She spread her legs wider, and Harry increased the pressure and speed of his stroke, moving his fingers faster and more forcefully.

"Tell me, did you always feel like this when I drove you places?" he insisted. "Did I always make you this wet?"

Maisy nodded, and grunted.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know it's—It's kinda inappropriate, isn't it? I—Sorry—"

"Shh,shhh… It's not." Harry rubbed her covered entrance in circles. Quick circles, experienced circles, making her get wetter and wetter. "Wish I knew sooner, that's all."

He focused on performing his task with only one finger, then, pressing it between her lips and then rubbing circles in search for that spot that would drive her insane. As soon as he found it, Maisy jolted and moaned, unable to contain herself anymore.

Still holding onto his arm, she recovered the strength on her other hand, covering his knuckles and fingers and guiding his touch once again. She helped him so he could touch her like she wanted him to, so he could keep pressing and stroking her exactly where she needed him to, and before she could notice it, she was fully rolling her hips on their connected hands. Searching for more friction. Desperate for relief.

Harry groaned, and she arched her back. He pressed faster, and faster. And she was there. Almost there. So, so, so almost there.

She just needed some more rolling, just like that, some more gasping, oh God, yes, and then—

And then someone honked behind them.

They both jumped. Maisy pressed her legs together and covered her center with one hand, while Harry straightened up and stretched his arm across her chest—as if that would hide her the flush from her cheeks, or the desperation from her breath, or the lust from her eyes.

The car behind them honked again. And again.

"Wha—"

"Green," she breathed out, pointing to the traffic light while her chest moved up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

And the car behind them honked, again.

"Shit," Harry mumbled, letting go of Maisy to shift gears and press the clutch pedal, then easily letting it go again. "Sorry… Sorry."

Still out of breath, she kept her legs pressed together and nodded. "Yeah, I—Yeah…"

He sped up before pressing the clutch pedal and shifting gears again, driving as fast as he could through the city.

Maisy clenched her thighs, then between her legs, and shuffled on her seat.

Peeking at her, Harry sighed.

"Shit. I'm sorry."

Maisy nodded again. How long did they just spend there? Stupidly parked at a traffic light? And how many green lights did they ignore?

"You ok?" he asked, eyes on the road and both hands on the steering wheel.

She shifted and rearranged herself, feeling the burning desire between her legs turn into sticky coldness.

"Yeah… I just…" Maisy said, watching the neighborhood through the window and chuckling lightly. "I forgot we were there."

"I know, me too," Harry laughed. "Shit. Completely lost track of time, too."

"Mhm."

She laughed.

And then they both laughed.

Peeking at her again, Harry grabbed her hand one more time, pulling it from her lap and taking it to his mouth.

"Don't worry, by the way." He kissed the back of her hand, then took their connected hands to shift gears. "I'll take care of you as soon as we get home."

She smiled, then intertwined her fingers with his. "Mhm. You better."

"Ok," Harry said, turning the steering wheel and straightening out the tires. He put the car into neutral and lifted the handbrake, then took his feet off the pedals and twisted the ignition key. The engine stopped working, but silence didn't have enough time to settle before he tapped her leg twice and spoke again, "Get out."

He stepped out of the car, and Maisy blinked. Smiling to herself, she shook her head and reached to open her door, but Harry was already there, doing the job for her and offering his hand for her to hold.

She narrowed her eyes, and looked up at him.

"C'mon," he said, wiggling his fingers. "Out."

She opened her mouth to call him out for his demanding tone, but ended up snorting and chuckling, instead.

"Well, look who's eager now," she muttered, taking his offer and grabbing his hand, then getting out and stepping aside.

The last five minutes of the drive to his place had been completely silent, and although his promise of taking care of her as soon as they got home lingered between them, all the events of that day had finally started catching up with her brain while Harry's thumb soothed the back of her hand and she watched the streets go by through the window. Tiredness and sleepiness got a hold of her muscles, and her thoughts worked at a much slower pace than before. So whilst she still found herself desperate to get to his apartment, she also wouldn't have complained about taking a short nap first.

"To be fair," he said, "been eager since I first saw you tonight."

He slammed the door shut, and its bang echoed around the parking lot. Maisy looked around, fixing her outfit while Harry moved to stand in front of her. He seemed to be the only neighbor who hadn't been in the building that night, all the other spots already occupied by different types of cars. Other than that, everything was quiet, as if they were the only two people awake in the entire town.

"What happened to building maintenance?" she murmured.

Harry tilted his head and smiled, placing his hands on her hips and caging her between his body and his car. "Building maintenance?"

Looking over his shoulder, Maisy rested her hands on his chest and shrugged. It hadn't always been intense, gray darkness and dim lights, had it? She usually walked into the building through the front door, so she couldn't remember the last time she'd been there, but she was pretty convinced it used to look more appealing than… That.

"Yes. Half of the bulbs are gone," she pointed out.

He lifted his hands to her face, brushing his thumb over her jawline while sliding the other four to the back of her neck. "Are they?"

Guiding her to look at him, he tilted his chin down and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Maisy sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying his softness. "Mhmm…"

He pulled away, only enough to murmur, "Didn't notice."

And then he kissed her again. Curling his mouth around her bottom lip and getting a taste of it, then letting it go and repeating the process with the upper one.

Kind of dizzy, Maisy dropped her palms to his waist, grasping at his t-shirt for some balance just as he tilted her head to the side and drifted his kisses to her cheek.

"It's just…" She swallowed, keeping her eyes shut and focusing on the way his wet lips caressed her skin. "Kinda dark… Isn't it?"

Harry hummed, pressing more and more kisses. He took his time moving towards her ear, meanwhile drawing small circles on her lower jaw and pushing her body against the closed door.

"It is dark, yes," he said, brushing his nose next to her ear and allowing every word to resonate inside her. "Means no one can see us."

Maisy rested her weight on his car, and Harry waved both hands up through her hair, holding it into a ponytail. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulled her head back, then moved his kisses down to her neck.

God. That felt good.

Really good.

He kissed her again. And again, and again, and again. Parting his lips slightly and making it wet. Making it sweet. Making it noisy. Hmmmm…

She parted her lips, breathing heavily through her mouth. Heat seemed to rush to every spot he touched, and she could feel her pulse racing in her throat.

So good.

"I mean," she barely managed to say. "Maybe… Someone… Could…"

He hummed again, a little longer this time, letting her know he was listening even though he seemed much more preoccupied about covering her throat with warm, needy and calculated kisses.

"Yes…" He parted his lips wider, pressing them where her neck met her shoulder and sliding his tongue up and down. Wet, and warm. Once, and twice. "Maybe."

Harry knew what he was doing, tracing a dreamy and sensual path from one side to the other with his plump and juicy lips. Sucking slightly even now and then, soothing with his tongue, teasing with his teeth. Using his large hands to tilt her head as he pleased. Letting her know how careful and affectionate he could be, but also showing off his power and strength.

Maisy's heart skipped a beat, and her legs weakened.

"Wanna risk it?" he asked, breathing hot air into her ear.

Twisting her hands around his t-shirt, Maisy opened her eyes. She licked her lips and swallowed, putting herself together and finding the last remains of energy to say something back to him.

Truth be told, there was something about being the only two in that dark parking lot that made her feel excited to keep going. The danger was a turn on, and there was no other person that could ever make her feel as safe as Harry did, so she knew that if there was a time to be brave and risk it all, that would be it.

At the same time, the idea of getting caught by one of his neighbors—people she more than often encountered in the elevator or walking in the hallway—brought nervousness to the pit of her stomach. It was one thing to make out passionately and let others know how much you were into someone, but getting caught naked and mid-orgasm was completely different. At least when it came to Maisy, of course.

"That eager, huh?" she asked, facing the ceiling and waiting for him to tilt her head back down. "Can't even make it to the fourth floor?"

Her question put a smirk on his face, and it granted her wishes, causing Harry to tighten the grip of his fingers and guide her to look at him again.

"That eager, yes." He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose up and down her own. "Can you blame me?"

He let go of her hair and slid his fingers down, brushing the tips on each side of her neck.

"Been thinking about you in this outfit since I first saw you tonight."

He traced her collarbones, then breezed from her shoulders to her forearms, sliding his own shirt off from her arms, and then going all the way back up to her chest once again.

Her flesh prickled at his touch, and a brief shiver rippled through her, causing Harry's smirk to get even wider.

Just like before, his reaction was enough to snap something inside her. Because even though she enjoyed taking orders and being compliant to someone else's wishes, Maisy didn't enjoy giving all her power away. Not all at once, at least.

So she looked down at her own body, let Harry's shirt hang on her elbows, and raised her eyebrows.

"This outfit?" she asked, as if she hadn't bought that top specifically for that night. Or as if she had never heard Harry talking to the boys about bloody gorgeous tits before. Or as if she wasn't proud of the curves she had to offer. Or as if she hadn't hoped of getting his attention when she'd put the pieces together and stared at herself in the mirror earlier in the afternoon.

"Mhmm…" He grabbed the spaghetti straps between his fingers, then followed their path from her shoulders to her chest. "This outfit."

She glanced up again, then watched him carefully and patiently, fluttering her eyelids while drowning her voice in innocence and naivety. "What about it?"

"Do I really need to say it?"

Maisy nodded. "I would like you to, yes."

Harry hummed, and looked down at her chest. He toyed with the thin straps a little longer, hooking each one inside of his fingers and running through them up and down.

If Maisy would've had to guess, she would've thought he was pondering his next words. Weighing them up. Choosing them carefully. Making sure they wouldn't go unnoticed, and therefore making sure she wouldn't go unaffected. She'd seen Harry flirting so many times, that she knew how much liked the thrill of the chase. She'd also shared a lot of conversations with him about the subject, so she knew how much he cared about making other people feel good, even when he knew it wouldn't go further than a one night stand—although even if she hadn't talked to him about it, she knew that making people feel good was a trait that played a huge part in who Harry was; not only when dating or hooking up, but just in general.

"Well," he eventually said, clearing his throat and answering her question. "I mean, I didn't want to be disrespectful at the club, but…"

He moved his hands, leaving the straps of her top behind and tracing its edge instead.

"To be completely honest…" He brushed the tips of his index and middle fingers across her cleavage. Teasingly and featherly. Eying his own movements. Scanning the patterns he drew all over the swell of her breasts. "And only because you're asking…"

He paused to glance into her eyes, then slid his tongue between his lips and looked back down to his hands.

"I couldn't stop staring at these," he finally added.

Maisy's skin tingled, and her insides quivered. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the way his fingers made her feel. Enjoying the fact that he'd been staring at her breasts. And enjoying even more the idea of him filling his hands with them and giving both a forceful squeeze. Shit. She swallowed.

Her heart hammered in her ears, though, and her lungs didn't seem to keep up with so much information. She knew Harry could feel her chest moving up and down frenziedly under his touch, meaning that, once again, it would be impossible for her to hide how breathless he made her feel.

So she would have to use it in her favor, instead.

Shifting on her feet, she leaned fully into the car and breathed in deeply, filling up her chest and pressing her cleavage briefly into his hands. Then, she exhaled through her nose, leaving Harry's fingers running over empty air.

"And?" she asked, feeling herself taking control once again. "What's your verdict?"

He peeked at her and took a step forward, fingers finding her again. "My verdict?"

"Mhm. You like them?"

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and nodded, letting her know he understood the question.

Focusing on one breast, he moved his index finger up and down, drawing a straight line, then repeating the process an inch or two to the side.

"I think they're gorgeous," he said, connecting the two lines with a horizontal stroke.

Maisy smiled. "Thanks. I think so, too."

Harry smiled, too, then moved to her other breast. "You do, huh?"

Once again, he traced two vertical lines, and connected them horizontally with a third one.

"Mhmm…"

"Can't see why you wouldn't." He reached her sides and drifted down, roaming through her ribcage. "Can't see why anyone wouldn't."

He got past the exposed skin of her waist, then to the waistline of her pants.

"These are really nice, too." He sneaked four fingers between the fabric and her stomach, leaving only his thumb out as he grabbed onto the waistline and pulled her forward. Maisy gasped quietly, almost unnoticeable, stumbling on her feet while Harry skimmed his other hand down through her belly. "But I bet this one" —he tilted his chin down while she tilted her head up, and then he cupped between her legs, fully palming and covering her heat— "looks better."

Maisy snorted, pressing herself into his touch. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Holding each other's gazes, they both smirked.

Harry pushed his hand into her, backing her up and forcing her into the cold car while stepping forward. "Am I supposed to pretend I'm not dying to take your clothes off?"

Maisy shrugged. "I mean, I would rather if you got right into it, but if you want to keep playing games…"

Harry's smirk faded away. He rubbed his fingers up and down, making sure to stroke from one side to the other. Harsher. Fully. From her entrance, to her front. Just like he'd done earlier that day. But somehow even better.

Oh God. Maisy blinked, then moved her palms up to his arms, holding tightly onto him while flickering her eyes all over his face.

Something had happened.

There were no traces of playfulness or teasing anymore. No more smirks, no more cluelessness. No more fake oblivion. No more mulling over his words.

Harry looked focused and determined. Sure of himself. And yet ready to crumble.

"'M not playing games," he stated, touching her. Always touching her. "Would never play games with you."

Oh. The information clicked inside her mind, and she squeezed his arms. "I—I know."

She hadn't meant it like that, and she knew Harry wasn't messing around with her. He wouldn't do that. If he didn't want her, then he wouldn't be with her. Simply as that.

"Good." He slid his foot between her boots and parted her legs, then spread them even wider with his knee. "Now, I'd really like to make you cum."

Applying more pressure to his hand, he rubbed circles, just like she'd guided him earlier.

Ohh… Maisy fluttered her eyelids, then fully closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan and turning it into a soft whine, instead.

"Can I make you cum, pretty girl?"

Turning the corners of her mouth up, Maisy nodded.

"Right here?" He moved faster. "Right now?"

Oh God. She swallowed, then slid her tongue through her parted lips and glanced at him.

"I—Oh God—" The words flew out from her mind to her mouth, and she dropped her forehead to his chest. "Are there—Shit—Are there cameras here?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Then—"

"We can barely afford light bulbs. Or so I've heard."

"Oh my God," she chuckled, twisting his t-shirt inside her fingers as the feeling grew more and more intense with each stroke. "Shut up, and—Oh God… Just… Fuck."

"Yes?" he asked, the smile clear in his voice.

She breathed in and out, heavily and loudly, and slid one hand from his arm to her own waist. Pulling away from his chest, she stared into his green eyes and unbuttoned her pants.

"Touch me." And then, she unzipped them. "Now."

Harry smirked. He looked around and over his shoulder, then stood by her side and pushed her further towards the front of the car, closer to the wall. Maisy sighed, and relaxed. It was good to know they were in sync. That no matter how much they wanted to do that, none of them got to the point of disrespecting each other's—or other people's—boundaries.

And then, he sneaked his hand inside her pants, and every one of her worries and random thoughts vanished away. She focused on him, and on the things he did to her. She focused on the way he stood straighter and stretched his arm, then got in between the lace of her thong and the warmth of her skin. She focused on the way he stepped forward and relaxed his body into her side, too, throwing his free arm around her neck while angling his other forearm to get his fingertips past her hair, and right into her wet flesh.

"Fuck."

They looked at each other for a second, and then they both chuckled, simultaneously leaning in for a whole new kiss.

"Fucking finally…" Harry mumbled.

He dipped his middle finger between her folds and stroked it up and down, collecting her wetness and spreading it around. Maisy shivered, and her hips jerked forward, almost against her will. With a grunt, Harry pulled his hand off from her pants and broke the kiss, bringing his middle finger to his mouth and sucking it in.

He closed his eyes when tasting her, and Maisy's body got on fire. Grabbing his t-shirt into fists, she pulled him closer, then licked her way around his jaw. Tasting whatever inch she could reach, and as much as she could, while he put his hand back inside her pants.

"C'mere." He kissed her again, and dipped his fingers between her folds again. Stroking them up and down. Spreading her open. Getting to know every corner of her.

Maisy sighed. She moved her hands, grabbing his neck, and his bicep, then let her body react to his wonderful, skillful fingers. His never stopping fingers. Stroking up and down, up and down. Rubbing circles. Pressing her clit. Rubbing her clit. So good. So, so good.

"Oh God." She leaned into him, moving her hips and searching for more friction. "Harry…"

"Yeah?"

More. She needed more.

"Ugh," she practically whined, opening her eyes. "Touch me."

"I am touching you."

She smacked his shoulder. "Then touch me more."

Harry laughed, then quickly kissed her again. He hunched slightly and pressed his middle finger inside her. Just barely, though, not even making it to his first knuckle before freezing and kissing the corner of her mouth.

"Like this?"

"More."

Half an inch forward.

"Like this?"

"Oh my God!" She grabbed his wrist, and glared at him. "I hate you so much right now!"

He smiled, kissing her cheek, and her chin, then her mouth. "No you don't."

Maisy rolled her eyes. "I do, yes."

"Hmmm."

With half of his middle finger still inside her, he pressed one side of his hand on her clit, then went back to rubbing circles.

She let go of his wrist and placed both hands on his shoulders, then threw her head back and rolled her hips back and forth.

"You said you'd make me cum…"

Keeping the steady movement of his hand, Harry kissed her cheek.

"You're right, baby."

Baby.

Maisy throbbed between her legs, then squeezed her eyes shut.

"I did say that," he added, and she huffed.

"So make me, damnit."

"Alright baby," —he bent his knees, then pushed his middle finger deep inside her— "Alright."

Oh.

Maisy moaned.

He slid his hand and pushed his finger out. Then thrusted back inside. Curving it, he pressed it against her wall, searching for that spot that would drive her insane. When he found it, Maisy's knees wobbled, and she melted into him.

"Oh God." She looked into his eyes, breathing from her mouth while he stared back at her.

"Yeah?" Out. And in. Hitting into that same spot one more time. "Right there?"

She bit her lip, and nodded. "Mhmmm…"

He pulled his lonely finger out, then pushed two inside. Aiming for that same delicious spot, over and over again. Making her feel good—so, so good.

She held onto him, hypnotized as she watched the beautiful green of his eyes, and he threaded his free hand through her hair, pulling her till his lips were against her temple. Breathing into her while he worked his strong fingers inside her. Pumping so hard that she could hear her dripping wetness in the dead-silent parking lot.

"God…" She bit her lip. "I dreamed about this for so long."

"Yeah? Is it like you dreamed it would be?"

"Much… Much better."

Harry sighed, then tightened the grip around her hair and tilted her face to the side. "C'mere."

He kissed her firmly, then, connecting their lips and keeping them together while he tried his best to angle his arm and hit the spot hidden inside her.

"Fuck…" She moaned into his mouth. "Can you… Oh God… Can you make it three?"

He hunched down, wriggling inside her pants to adjust his hand.

"Shit." He pulled away from her mouth and looked over his shoulder, then back at her. "Can't with these pants… And I don't want to undress you here…"

Maisy nodded. "Okay."

"Sorry." He pumped in and out again.

"It's—It's fine, I just… I need more."

"Then I'll give you more."

He pulled his fingers out and held her tightly with his palm, then spinned her body around. Pressing his chest to her back and hovering over her shoulder, he held her body firmly with his other arm, and proceeded to work between his legs. He pressed one finger to her clit and rubbed circles, gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his movements. The new position allowed him to relieve some of his own tension, too, rocking his hardening bulge against her ass.

Maisy melted into his hold, throwing her arm up and around his neck and holding tightly onto him while moving her hips back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

That was so much better.

Oh God.

He squeezed her tighter, keeping her in place while he made sure to give her everything she needed and wanted. More pressure, more speed. Kisses to her neck, and to her jaw. Breathing hotly into her ear.

"Yes, yes." She pulsed, throbbed, and quivered. "Oh God."

Harry moved steadily, but faster. Pushing her further, and further.

"That's it, baby," he murmured into her ear. "That's it. C'mon."

He pushed her further and further. And even further.

Until Maisy finally exploded, shuddered, and trembled.

''Ah!"

She fell forward, and Harry grabbed her. Pulling her upright, and driving her through her climax. Out of breath and numb, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed him. Silently begging for him to stop.

He complied and pulled his fingers away from her clit, soothing her and shushing her when she hissed. But then he removed his hand from her pants and automatically took it up to his mouth, licking and sucking the mess she'd made while humming next to her ear. As if she was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

Maisy moaned, almost painfully, holding onto his arm around her waist and instinctively drawing circles with her ass up and down his length.

"Please. Please. Just take me upstairs now."

— — — — —

The walk to the fourth floor happened in a rush. They didn't let go of each other while walking, nor stopped kissing or touching when they got inside the elevator. And by the time they were inside the living room, Harry's t-shirt was already on the floor and Maisy's boots were long forgotten by the door.

They blindly guided each other around the furniture, kissing and touching while they unbuttoned each other's pants. Harry's were the first to get lost on the hallway, and Maisy didn't miss one second before feeling him up through his briefs. He grunted and sighed, chasing her mouth while encouraging her to take the rest of her clothes off.

Maisy stumbled as they got inside his bedroom, and they both laughed, having to slow down and take a deep breath before moving on. But then she sat on the foot of the bed and Harry kneeled in front of her, going along with every single one of her movements and helping to undress her.

He kissed her legs, and moved his lips up her body, losing himself with her scent when he nuzzled his nose between her legs. He kissed her on top of the laced thong, and then pulled the item off her body. He moved up, and they captured each other's mouths once again. Kissing, sucking, nibbling. He felt her up, and she felt him up. She squeezed him with her palm, and traced him with her fingers. He breathed in and out heavily from her mouth, too worked up to properly kiss her. And then she kissed his bottom lip, holding it and sucking it into her mouth as she slid into the elastic of his briefs and finally touched him.

Harry moaned. So raw, manly, and helpless at the same time that it made her smile.

She stroked him up and down, then. Up and down, up and down. He was full, firm, and hot under her hand. Rigid. Solid. His own neediness had already gotten him wet, but not enough for her hand to slide as smoothly as she would've liked, so she pulled it off and brought it to her mouth.

Harry took the opportunity to take the last item off, his shaft hitting his stomach and making him hiss. He stroked himself, crawling over her body before diving into her neck.

Maisy squirmed, and moaned. She searched for his hand, and once she grabbed it, she pulled it directly to her chest.

"Want them in your mouth," she murmured, squeezing her breast with the help of his hand.

Harry buckled his hips into hers, and cursed into her skin. He sat on his heels and brought her along by her arms, then pulled at the sleeves of his own shirt to take it off her body.

"Tomorrow morning you're wearing this again," he said, holding up his shirt in his hand and then throwing it to the floor. "And I'm gonna fuck you in it."

Maisy smiled. "Yes, sir."

He sighed then shook his head, and she giggled. Lifting one arm, she unzipped her top with the other one. Harry helped her get rid of it, and then he was all over her body once again. Snuggling into her chest and parting his mouth to get a taste of her breast. Squeezing it into his hand and sucking it fervently. Nibbling her nipple, flickering his tongue. Sucking even more.

"Bloody fucking gorgeous," he mumbled around her.

"God, yes." She relaxed into the mattress, threading her hands into his hair and arching her body into his mouth. "Take more."

He sucked deeper, unashamedly slurping as he drooled all over her skin and grinded against her hips.

Maisy exploded with pure, raw, and wild need for him. She bent her knees and placed her feet on the bed, then spread her legs open. Stretching her arm between their bodies, she grabbed his length and pressed his tip between her folds, rubbing up and down her wetness.

"Fuck." She moaned, rolling her hips up.

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunted. "You're so fucking sexy."

He moved to her other breast, massaging the one he had just abandoned. Losing himself in her taste and squeezing her just as fiercely as he sucked her into his mouth.

Fuck. Maisy really liked that. She really liked when men loved her breasts, but Harry being the one who sucked them into his mouth was mind-blowing. It made her feral. It drove her insane.

"Hell yes." She moaned, and he moaned.

She threaded her free hand around his curls and pressed him closer to her chest. Hoping to suffocate him with her breasts. "Keep going…"

Harry hummed, drinking her in while writhing against her hand.

She scratched his scalp with one hand, and pressed him between her folds with the other. Rocking her hips back and forth while he got drunk on her. "Just like that…"

He searched for her hands, then, slotting their fingers together and sinking them onto the mattress while he devoured her entirely. Letting her breast go with a loud pop and moving immediately to her neck.

"I need you," he mumbled, spreading open-mouthed kisses to whatever he could reach. "Now. I need you now."

She hooked her legs around his waist, adjusting so he could roll and rub himself against her clit. "Mhmm… Please."

He bit her neck, and she dropped her head back, arching into him and squeezing his hands.

"Condom," he mumbled. "I'll—Condom…"

"Mhmm…"

Maisy nodded, dropping her legs to the mattress, and Harry moved, stretching to open the drawer on the bed side table. She took the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his shoulder, tasting him slowly and fervently. He grunted, having trouble concentrating, but eventually grabbed a foil package and moved back to her mouth.

He kissed her, then pulled away to tore the wrapper open with his teeth, and kissed her again. They moved together to put on the condom, always finding ways to keep meeting for tender and lazy kisses. Once he was ready, Maisy shuffled on his bedsheets and made herself comfortable, watching as he slotted between her legs and then crawled to place one elbow next to her head.

Holding himself with one arm and looking into her eyes, he took one hand down and grabbed himself.

She hugged his neck, and he teased his tip around her clit, then tapped it twice against her entrance.

Maisy hissed, and Harry grunted.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, guiding himself inside her body. "I really, really hope I last."

Maisy laughed, and he smiled. And then they kissed.

She instantly hooked her legs around his waist, resting her heels above his bum and encouraging him to get closer. To go deeper. To fill her.

Kissing.

Panting.

Moaning.

Shivering.

Maisy squeezed her eyes together, feeling the burn of the first stretch. And Harry kissed her again. Maybe trying to sooth her. Or maybe because he just couldn't stay away.

"You good?" he asked, caging her head between his forearms.

"Yeah…" She licked her lips, and blinked. "So good."

"Can I fuck you like this?" he asked. "Wanna see you."

She nodded. "Whatever you want. Just fuck me already."

Harry chuckled, then rolled his hips, sliding in and out slowly, just to test the waters.

"Whatever I want?"

Maisy sighed, and nuzzled her hands into his curls. "Yes. Whatever you want."

In…

And out…

"In that case," he said. "Wanna fuck you like this tonight."

In…

And out…

"And want you to ride me tomorrow."

Maisy smiled.

In…

And out…

"Wearing your shirt?" she asked.

"Fuck yes."

In…

He brushed the side of his nose with hers, and smiled, too. "Nothing but my shirt."

And out…

In…

She nodded. "Mkay…"

And out…

"Hmmm."

In…

And out…

"We'll have…" he started, then kept going as he followed the affectionate and sensual pace of his hips. "The rest… Fuck… Of our lives… To try… Different… Positions… Anyway… Yeah?"

Maisy smiled again. "The rest of our lives, huh?"

In…

Harry kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. "Too cliché?"

And out…

She shook her head. "I like the sound of it."

"Yeah… Me too."

In…

And out…

In…

And out…

"Fuck," he growled.

Picking up the pace, he held his weight firmly onto his forearms, then moved his hips and focused on thrusting into her. In and out, in and out, in and out. Faster. And deeper.

In and out.

Maisy whimpered and squeezed her arms around his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as he built a frantic pace.

In and out.

"Took me all this… Shit… All this time to figure it out," he mumbled. "I'm not—Fuck—I'm not letting you go now."

She arched her back, and sank her nails into his back. "I'm not going anywhere."

He smashed their mouths together. Rocking his hips into her. Pounding into her. Faster. Deeper. The bed knocked into the wall. And their skin smacked together.

Hell yes.

So good.

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

So fucking good.

Loud.

Desperate.

Needy.

Hungry.

Feral.

"C'mon baby…" he mumbled around her lips, then took one hand down to her waist. "C'mon…"

More. More. More.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Deep. Deep. Deep.

"Y—Yeah… Right—Shit. Right there… Oh my God… Keep going… Keep going…"

"You're so loud," Harry chuckled, squeezing her waist and keeping up the reckless pace. "Fucking… Love… It… Fuuuck."

Maisy gasped. She scrunched up her face, and gripped his ass with both hands.

"More… I need… More…"

"Jesus Christ…" Still holding his weight with one arm, he let go of her waist and moved between her legs, then rubbed her swollen clit. "Like that?"

"Fuck yes. Yes. Oh God, Harry… Harry… Oh God… Yes."

"C'mon then… C'mon… Let me see you…"

She moaned loudly, crying out as her walls spasmed and contracted around him and all the tension snapped at once, causing her body to tremble from head to toe.

"Fuck—" Harry closed his eyes. "Isy— Shit… I'm… Isy… Fuck."

He shattered on top of her, pulsing inside her walls as he emptied himself inside the condom and went still with each—

last—

fucking—

thrust.

"Fuuuuuck."

He held himself and pulled out, then finally collapsed into her.

Beats of silence went by. Deafening silence. A silence they hadn't ever shared before. Not in five years of friendship. Not with anyone else they'd ever been up until then. A silence that enveloped both of them naturally, that gave them time to recollect their thoughts and catch up their breaths. And a silence that, after another couple of beats, got them both rolling in bed and laughing out loud.

"Oh my God…"

Maisy hid behind her hands, feeling the mattress sink as he got up and got rid of the condom. Although she didn't want to, she followed his steps, going to the bathroom and cleaning herself up.

Moments later, when she walked back into his bedroom, she found Harry laying in bed, wearing clean briefs and waiting for her.

"C'mere," he said, patting the place next to him.

She curled her lips into a smile and practically ran to him, jumping into his bed and snuggling into his side.

"Jesus Christ Isy…" Harry pulled her naked body to himself, sneaking one arm under her neck and sliding the other one around her waist. "I'm so happy and also so fucking mad right now."

"What?" She placed one hand on his chest and hooked one leg around his waist. "Why are you mad?"

"Because!" He laughed. "Can't believe you've been hiding this side from me all this time."

"Hmm… No I haven't."

"Yes, you have."

"No, because I don't even have a side to hide!"

"You totally do. All loud… Chatty… Bossy…"

"That's not true."

"It isss tho…"

"Oh, shut up."

"Exactly!" He laughed even louder, then forced his voice in a poor attempt of mimicking her. "Shut up Harry. Touch me Harry. Fuck me Harry. More Harry. I need more Harry. More Har—Ouch! Heyyyy!"

Maisy let go of his nipple, then slapped his chest. "Stop being stupid!"

"Will you stop fucking pinching me?" he asked, smacking his palm loudly against her ass.

"Shit!" she yelped and laughed, jolting closer to his body.

"You like it rough, don't you?" he added right after, then pinched right under her bum.

"Harry!" Laughing louder, she squirmed inside his arms. "Stop!"

"You like it rough, and you're filthy."

"Oh my God." Maisy rolled her eyes, catching her breath between all the laughing. "So? What's wrong with that? Huh?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Well, then stop judging!"

"I'm not—What? I'm not!" He shuffled, staring into her eyes and caressing her cheek. "Are you kidding me? I fucking love it!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Mhmm… Sure."

Harry shook his head, and smiled. "Don't be silly… It's just… I don't know, but it felt different, y'know? Like… Fucking great sex… But not just like… The sex, sex, y'know? Everything about it… I don't know. I guess I just never had something like this before… Just… So fun and fucking hot at the same time… Y'know what I mean?"

Maisy bit her lip, and nodded. She cradled his cheek and moved closer, then pulled him in for a slow, sweet, and long, long kiss.

"Yeah," she whispered, pecking his mouth one more time and sliding her hand to the back of his head. "I know exactly what you mean."

Harry grunted softly.

"See?" He squeezed her bum. "And you been keeping this away from me! All this time!"

Maisy rolled her eyes—for what felt like the hundredth time. "Okay. Have you thought that maybe, maybe, if you had made a move on me instead of pulling up random girls at bars, you would've known sooner?"

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again.

"You're right." He rested his forehead against hers and nodded. Then, he smiled. "Thank God my girl's got attitude, huh?"

Maisy bit her lip and smiled, too.

But then, she grinned. So big she even giggled.

"Your girl, huh?"

"Mhmmm…" He caressed her side. "If you want to be, of course."

"Am I going to be the only one?"

He pulled away, then looked firmly into her eyes. "I want you to be, yes. I want to do this properly. Wanna be with you. Only you. No-one else."

She threaded her fingers around the curls in the back of his head, then stroked his scalp with soft circles.

"I wanna be with you, too. Want you to be mine."

He smiled, and shrugged. "Already am. All yours."

"Good." She kissed him. "No more being just friends, then…"

"Fuck no!" He laughed, and pulled her in for another kiss. Then, he murmured into her lips, "Fuck that shit. We were never just friends, anyway."

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #here it is...#im gonna post it and hide away forever #byebye

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 months

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for the ask post, I wish you'd write a fic for a part 2 for no longer yours to keep. I think it would be sweet if they did poly but maybe it takes Garrick a bit to warm up for the fact but still sees that Xaden cares for reader also

The second part to this piece

Warning: blood, nudity

You wouldn’t go back to the first month of rage ever. You wished it never happened in the first place. But then maybe it was inevitable. So many things were changing and as strong as both of them were, bonding a dragon had taken a toll on them too. You had managed to hide it for a couple of weeks. Fighting the urge to find comfort in Xaden. You had chosen to ignore him but that had only caused you more physical pain.

“What’s wrong?”, Garrick had pulled you aside after you practically got choked on the training mat because you were too sloppy. “It’s nothing”, you muttered as you had for days. By now looking in his eyes had gotten too much. “Quit that, love. We don’t hide shit from each other”, his tone was harsher, slicing bits of your heart off as guilt slammed into you.

You raised your teary eyes at him. Garrick’s face softened instantly, “What is it? What’s hurting?”, his hands gently reached for you as he looked you over. “Promise me you will not act on it”, you muttered. But there it was. That stoney, killer like wall, “Then don’t give me a reason to kill someone”, he said through gritted teeth, “Spill it out”.

“I bonded a mated dragon”, you whispered. Garrick simply looked at you with a shrug, “And?”. You swallowed thickly. Knowing that this might as well be the last time he’s looking at you. “Mated to Xaden’s dragon”, you muttered, “Meaning that we are also…”, “No”, Garrick hissed, “Bullshit”. You closed your eyes, trying to keep yourself calm. “It wasn’t my choice, I only felt it when I saw him after”, you heard Garrick inhaling sharply.

“That was two weeks ago”, it was a cold, calculated kind of answer, “You knew for two weeks and didn’t think of telling me?”. He hissed stepping closer to you. Towering over you. “I didn’t want to lose you”, you hiccuped. “Fuck that, have you been sneaking around too?”, his hand found your neck, making you look up at him. Even against his grip you managed to shake your head. “I couldn’t, I told him that I would not let him interfere”, you cried out, trying to reach out for him, but Garrick batted your hands off.

“You fucking…”, he called out right as the back room yanked open and the room went pitch black. “Careful how you speak to her”, a voice hissed. A voice so familiar. As if from the depths of your soul. And suddenly you were slumped against the wall. Glimpsing up to find Xaden pinning Garrick against the wall. “You selfish fuck, why do you always insert yourself in situations where you’re not needed”, Garrick hissed, shoving Xaden off. Both males growled, reaching for their daggers.

You jumped to your feet quickly. Pushing between them right as they lunged forward at one another. Both of their daggers nicking your arms, drawing blood. They both stilled at the same time. Metal clanked to the floor as they reached for it. Both assess the damage. “Look what you did”, Garrick hissed. “If you weren’t a selfish bastard”, Xaden bit back. You grasp both of their hands in yours, silently pleading with them for a heartbeat, before muttering a broken, “Please”.

The memory is still painful enough to jolt you up from your sleep. But as much as you want to move and get up, you can feel the weight of arms pressing down on you. Bringing ease and comfort into your bones. Chasing the anxiety away. “You should be sleeping”, a low voice muffles from the left side of you. Sending warmth soaring through your body. “So should you”, you mutter, suddenly not trusting your voice. “Garrick is snoring”, Xaden huffed, and even in the dark you could make out his sharp features. The strength that he possessed lay down for you to see. “Oh you poor baby”, you chirped at him, brushing your palm over his chest. Xaden wasted no time pulling you closer to him, “I would tickle the hell out of you if he was awake”, both of your eyes trailed towards the male sleeping on the right side of the bed. While they had grasped the hang of loving you loudly. Whatever kindled between them was mellow for a passing glance. But they made up with gestures of care.

“You’re thinking about us”, Xaden stated after a moment of silence. “How do you… Never mind”, you shook your head, reaching to pull the blanket over Garrick’s shoulders higher. Xaden’s fingers ran up and down your bare back. “You two are doing okay?”, his voice was much more gentle this time. After the loss of temper and the idea of an open relationship between you three was on the table you and Xaden had practically clawed at each other at any moment you two had. Your dragons had happily joined the frenzy. That had made Garrick pull back. You doubted that it was his ego that had been bruised considering the nights you two had shared. It was more the act of letting go fully that had frightened him. You two had been each other’s strength for years.

“We’re okay. Went on a date yesterday. It was nice”, you smiled slightly thinking back to the evening you two shared. “Reminded me of the old times and it was…”, you stopped yourself from regretting the words that were seconds away from slipping through your lips. “Just you two. I get it”, the gentle brush of his fingers stilled as he focused on the ceiling.

You shifted slightly, moving beneath the sheets to drape your leg over his hips as you moved to straddle him. You were able to open your mouth but Xaden beat you to it. “Do you think you both will forgive me for my poor choice of when I was younger and left you by?”, the old wounds cracking open. You sighed, leaning in to press a couple of loving kisses across his chest, “Have you forgiven yourself?”, and somehow your words had hit Xaden harder than a no could have ever hit. “Not to mention that you had time to come clean after”, Garrick’s groggy voice sounded through the room. “Ger…”, you breathed out, not wanting this night to turn into yet another fight. “He’s right I should have made it up to you both”, Xaden admitted.

“Make it up to me with kisses now”, you leaned it brushing your nose against his. And while Xaden let out a low chuckle, Garrick only grunted, “You’re letting him off the hook too easily”. You pulled back, exposing your bare body to the two males. Not that they haven’t seen every inch of you already. “Can I win you both over like this”, you smirked, biting your lip. Garrick reached for your hand pulling you towards him, “You’re playing dirty, vixen”, he mused as his lips brushed against yours. You felt Xaden’s palms tightening over your hips, “She sat on me first”, he mussed pulling you away from Garrick, seating your right back against his hips. “Suddenly, I’m not in the mood to share”, Garrick growled at Xaden, who only smirked, “Suddenly, I’m in the mood for a challenge”.

#xaden x garrick x reader #xaden riorson #xaden x reader #xaden imagine #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson x reader #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis x you #garrick tavis imagine #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x you #fourth wing x reader #iron flame x reader #iron flame imagine

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anonnwr1ter777 · 4 months

Text

Miscommunication

Hanahaki Disease AU!

jordan li x reader

-def a little oc jordan, i can’t imagine them saying some of this stuff but literally- for the plot 😝

readers gender isn’t really talked about in don’t thinkkkk and i couldn’t think of a better name so 😝 hope yall enjoy tho 🫡 also i don’t like using y/n so i’ll probably just use “___”

oh also i should mention that I don’t know the MOST about hanahaki disease i just remember reading a shit ton of imagines so i’m going off what i remember😭 if anything isn’t like accurate pretend it is 😚( but i was watching sleeping beauty and snow white while writing so im sure yall will see where that comes into this😝 ) also ik its not perfect but i hope it gives enough and doesn’t sound stupid😭<- i mean this in the sense that some parts kinda counteract each other but if we ignore that it’s pretty fye 🙌

Having to throw away another bloodied shirt was not on your to-do list for this morning, but here you are.

You first learned about your problem a couple months ago. Waking up after a night out with your friends to a strange feeling in your chest, almost like thorns.

When you told your roommate Cate about this, she pulled up ‘Hanahaki Disease’ on her phone and started to show you the symptoms and causes.

Of course you were in denial. In love with your childhood bestfriend? With Jordan? Not that it was a bad thing, who wouldn’t be in love with them? But you knew there was no way they would even like you back, the apparent thorns and flowers being grown just proves that.

—

“Hey freshie, coffee? I got your favorite” Jordan bumps your shoulder as you’re walking to class.

you know that you should probably try and distance yourself from them, try and make yourself fall out of love somehow. You just can’t.

You quickly snap back to the moment after realizing you’ve not responded.

“Jordan you can’t call me a freshman anymore, i’m a sophomore now”

“Oh you’ll always be my little freshman” They tease and put your coffee in your hand.

Immediately your chest starts to feel tight, you can feel the flowers start to creep up your throat.

Impeccable fucking timing

“So i was thinking, if you were down- We go with Andre and Cate and them to that one club we went to like a month ago-“ Jordan continues on as you start to zone out

You knew from the beginning you had no intention of telling Jordan about this, but you also knew that you spend way too much time with them to not be revealed to them at some point. But damn how would you ever be able to walk away from someone so-

“Are you even listening to me freshman?” Jordan stops you from walking, standing in front of you. “Huh? what? yes?” You snap out of your thoughts.

Jordan doesn’t say anything, instead the raise an eyebrow as if to say ‘then tell me’

“You were talking about the club yall dragged me to a month ago and how you wanna drag me back again” You look up at them as they switch from fem to masc.

“Okay maybe you were listening but!” They pause to take a sip out of their your drink. “That doesn’t change the fact that there is something going on in that head of yours” They poke a finger into your shoulder, an underlying tone of seriousness in their voice.

“Nothing is going on Li.” Even you didn’t believe your tone of voice.

“I know even you didn’t believe that” They grabbed your free hand, the situation turning a lot more serious.

“Hey Jordan, you know I always appreciate you for caring, but seriously I am fine!”

“Okay okay!” they put their hands up in defense, “You know I will always care” They flashed their smile and continued walking, hand still in your hand.

•~•

Cate dragged you out for lunch (to scold you the whole time) tired of your tired behavior in all of your classes. Cate was the only one who knew about your minor problem.

“Okay Cate i hear you, i swear!”

“All im saying is they like you back.” Cate tries to plead with you,

“Cate we both know they wouldn’t go for someone like me, i’m simply not their type; nothing is wrong with that”

“Yeah nothing wrong other than the fact it’s killing you” Cate rolls her eyes before continuing,

“Look, you know that’s not the case. They adore you.”

You let your head fall on the table dramatically, “Cate please-“

Cate grabs your hand, making you look at her.

“So disregarding the flowers growing in you, you’re going to deny you are in love with them?”

“Cate, they’re everything i’ve ever wanted, but i don’t want to risk loosing them as a friend”

Cate sends you a sympathetic smile before squeezing your hand, “I think you should just talk to them, maybe they’re hiding more than you think”

•~•

You couldn’t stop thinking about what Cate said. You decided you would just go ask them what’s up, maybe slip in a confession. Who knew?

After your last class of the day, you decided to go and find jordan.

As you were leaving your dorm, you remembered that Marie had lended you her hoodie a while back and decided to return it to her before going to Jordan’s dorm. Your love confession could wait.

You put your headphones on and made your way to her dorm.

You knocked when you arrived. Marie’s door wasn’t shut all the way so you invited yourself in.

At this exact moment you had wished you kept the jacket another day.

“Oh! __” Marie squeaked, pulling away from

jordan.

Jordan just looks at you, sending you a caught look.

It would be your luck that you walk in on them making out. You couldn’t do anything but stare at the scene in front of you as you dropped the jacket.

You felt like you were in a daze. This couldn’t be real? I thought they hated each other?

“oh my god” you breathed out, laughing in disbelief“I am so-“ “oh okay!” you had to take a moment, stumbling over your words was not keeping you discreet.

“I’m so sorry, here is your jacket Marie. um, have fun? i’m sorry again, okay bye!”

“Wait! __” You heard Jordan’s calls for you, but why in the hell would you stop? The flowers are feeling like they just got a big glass of fertilizer and you were 100% about to throw up.

Your steps increased, a speed away from running at this point.

“Jesus __, wait!!” Jordan grabs your wrist before you can speed up anymore, pulling you to face them.

“I really need to go jordan, you shouldn’t have left marie like that; that’s not nice” You mumble, looking at the floor.

“It really wasn’t what it looked like, you have- can you look at me?!” Jordan voices.

You look at jordan, currently in their female form. “Jordan please, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I really need to go”

“No you don’t, you didn’t have any plans today; you texted me that earlier when i asked.” They deadpanned.

Goddammit for smartphones

“Okay but now i do, bye!” You pull out of the grasp, just to be pulled back in by a stronger, larger hand.

“Listen we should really talk about-“

“We really shouldn’t! You don’t owe me any explanation!” you gag, feeling the blood and thorns start to reach your mouth. “Please just go back to marie, it’s not fair to leave her like that”

“__ Please-“ You cut jordan off by using your powers to remove their hand from yours, booking it to the nearest storage closet to throw up.

You’re so occupied with the flowers spilling out into your hands you don’t even hear Jordan come in.

“What the fuck?”

“Jord-“

“What the fuck?”

“please jordan, leave-“

Jordan comes to kneel beside you, gently grabbing at your hair to hold it back. “What is happening to you?”

“Nothing, please just-“

“__, please stop running from me, just let me in?” They use their sleeve to wipe your mouth free of blood. “You have been distant for a while now and i didn’t want to say anything because at the end of the day, if you were having a a problem you would tell me. Now you aren’t telling me anything, what is going on?”

Jordan helps you sit against the wall, standing up to take their jacket off as the room is silent.

“I have Hanahaki Disease.”

“Hana?- That unrequited love disease?” They stammered.

you nodded.

“For how long?”

“About four months ago”

“Jesus you’ve been dealing with this for four months? Well who’s the idiot who isn’t in love with you?”

Their comment would’ve been funny in a different scenario, but all you could do was look at them; eyes locked.

“You,” you mumbled

Jordan smiles down at you,,thinking- rather hoping you’re joking.

“That’s funny, who?”

“You’re the idiot jordan.”

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, head over heels i fucking guess.”

“no no no,” Jordan’s suddenly frantic, looking between you and the bloody flowers on the floor. “You can’t do this to me. Why would you do this?” They ask, eyes wide,stopping their pacing to meet your eyes.

You soften at their sudden change in behavior.

“Jordan, it’s oka-“

“It is not fucking okay!” They exclaim, coming to kneel down next to you. “What can I do?” they mutter, “Let me take you to the hospital, come on- please” They all but begged

“Jordan, please” You start, before the coughing attacks start up again, a white-bloodied rose falling into your hand. You swallow and meet Jordan’s remorseful eyes.

“It’s not your fault, you can’t pick who you fall in love with”

“But why did you have to fall in love with me?”

“how could i not jordan?!” you try to deflect instead of going on to list the multiple reasons you’re in love with them. “I never expected you to love me back. I mean I didn’t think this would happen, but I can’t control my feelings”

It’s quiet in the room. You observe Jordan as they look at the floor, their bob covering half of their face.

“This isn’t fair.” Jordan muttered, standing up “You’re selfish”

“Selfish?” you mimicked, using the wall assist you in standing up. “It’s unfair of you to call me selfish for my-“

“It’s selfish because it’s not true” Jordan snapped.

You blinked at them.

“Not true? Jordan i’m so in love with you i’m literally throwing up flowers, so what in the whole hell do you mean?”

“People don’t just fall in love with me, you don’t just fall in love with me” Jordan spat and met your eyes.

You’re taken aback by their tone, as if you aren’t literally growing flowers in your lungs and throat. You knew it was rumored that Jordan could be a little mean but you’ve never really seen it till now.

“Okay Jordan this is obviously too much for you to handle, you weren’t even supposed to see this- you weren’t even supposed to find out!” You began to make your way to the door, feeling your chest get tight again and not wanting to deal with this.

“..you weren’t gonna tell me?”

You turn around and meet their eyes.

“No jordan of course I wasn’t gonna tell you. I’d rather have you as a friend then not have you at all”

“So you were just gonna keep this to yourself? Die in silence?” they swallow. “If i didn’t follow you in here, would i ever have known?”

You look down; not exactly proud of what you’re about to say.

“Worse case scenario I asked cate to make sure you never found out about it.” You confessed.

“___, what the fuck?” Jordan scoffed out in shock, “Okay now that is fucking selfish.”

It might’ve seemed selfish to them, but if you were in their shoes you wouldn’t want the guilt of not being able to love someone back.

“Jordan, please stop calling me selfish! Nothing about what i’m saying is selfish” you breathe,

“Did you really want cate to come up to you and say “oh yeah ___ died because they stupidly feel in love with someone who could never love them back!”, Yeah jordan i bet that would’ve made you feel real peachy!” You snapped.

Once again the room falls to silence, and you fight back the tears waiting to drop.

“God, see Jordan this is why I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to argue with you like this. I don’t expect you to lov-“

“But I do love you!” They cut you off, coming closer to you.

You think Jordan can see your demeanor change by the way their eyebrows scrunch

“Don’t say that jordan, you can’t love me out out pity. Don’t love me out of pity.”

Jordan goes to say something before you interrupt them, you deny the fact your chest felt a little lighter at their statement.

“that’s not fair. I have been content with you not loving me back, do not start lying now please. Please, I want us to go back to how we were before this ever happened; before you ever knew”

They stared at you. Their facial expression evident that they were trying to find the right words.

“Look __, I might not know how to navigate this love thing but I know every time I see you my chest feels tight and i can’t look at you for too long or i want to drop everything im doing to take you and show you just how much i want you. Of fucking course i love you? You’ve been my friend forever, you’ve been the one here for me when no one else was.”

They step closer to you. “Don’t tell me that i’m not in love with you when i have spent years distracting myself with other people just so i wouldn’t have to face the fact that you didn’t like me back.”

“Jordan-“

“No just listen okay?”

You nod.

“I’ve never loved anyone like i love you, and i don’t know what the science is behind the”They gesture to your chest and then to the floor where the bloodied flowers lay, “but you’ve got to believe me ___. Ever since my mom forced me to play at the park with you. Ever since you yelled at my dad for being an asshole.” Their last comment made you both laugh a little, recalling the memory.

You wanted to believe them so bad, but why were the flowers there in the first place? if they loved you so much, why were the flowers growing.

“but if you loved me so much, why did you sleep with all those other people? why did you kiss marie?” Your voice small as it was your turn to step closer to them.

“I would rather have you as a friend than not have you at all” They say, mimicking your words from earlier. “I didn’t know how to tell you, so i resorted to distractions”

You study their face, searching for any hint of insincerity you suppose.

You also take this moment to observe how close you are to them, and how your chest and lungs feel lighter.

But this can’t be? Sure you didn’t do extensive research to your disease, but every time you seen something about it; it said it was fatal. So why don’t you feel like you’re being played? like you’re going to throw flowers up at any given moment? You feel your eyes start to water, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed.

“__?” Jordan said softly, grabbing ahold of your arms to pull you in closer to them. “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m scared. I want to believe you, half of me does believe you; but i’m just scared. All of the little research ive done said this is fatal, i don’t want to die now that i know you like me too?” the tears in your eyes made Jordan want to figure out how to get these stupid flowers out of you themselves.

Jordan wipes at your tears and wraps you in a hug, kissing you on your forehead. “If it is fatal, i’ll spend every last second making up for the years lost.”

You half sob half laugh into their embrace. “Were you always this cheesy Li?”

“just for you”

“oh my god” You laugh and sniffle, pulling out of their arms to face them.

“I really do love you.” They smile.

“I really believe you now.” You smile back.

You felt how you imagined every main character in a cheesy romcom felt as you realized you were about to kiss.

The kiss lasted no longer than 10 seconds before you pulled away to cough. You coughed out what you felt was one of your lungs. Instead it was a bloodied small stem, with a couple different petals around it.

“Is that a.. stem?” Jordan wipes your mouth with the same sleeve, eyes bouncing between you and the floor.

“my chest feels so light? Like it almost feels normal?”

“Did we just have a fucking sleeping beauty moment?” Jordan asks making you laugh in disbelief. “I want to say no?”

“Okay we will get you to the doctors tomorrow, but right now i want to take my girlfriend to my dorm.”

“Girlfriend?”

“If you’ll let me be your partner?”

“of course i would, wouldn’t go through four months of dying every time you were nice to me just to say no!” you tease with a smile.

“well i think we should kiss again just to make sure your lungs are really clear.”

“Dude, my mouth is still bloody. If you let me go brush my teeth 3 times, we can kiss till we are positive my lungs are clear.

“Okay well go freshman? don’t see any point of waiting around in this storage closet. Come on!” They usher you out with a sly smile on their face.

You didn’t think this is how this was going to end. You never expected to find out that the person you’re in love with shares the same feelings, and you definitely didn’t expect that all it would take to save your life is a little bit of communication.

//—//—//—//—//—//————————//

I hope u guys enjoyed this LOLL it took me so long but i locked in and finished it in like 3 hours😭

i didn’t proof read don’t kill me

but i still hope you enjoyed it and if you’re an maladaptive daydreamer like me, i hope this gave you fuel for scenario 😚😚

#jordan li #jordan li x reader #genv #jordan li x you #jordan li imagine #starwrites🤩

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stxrvel · 10 months

Text

what is it with all these secrets? (6)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: everything starts being suspicious when everyone in the complex dissappears. but just then, you learned some things that may be or not connected to something from your past.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: counting

warnings: just some bad words.

note: hi guys. i can't believe i got this out in one night, but i hope it is as good as i think it is inside my head. im really tired rn because i got sick and my whole body's just exhausted. so here it is for you guys! hope you like it and see you next time 💜

masterlist | next | series masterlist

You hadn't seen Bucky in two days. You had gone through and tossed and turned every room in the Complex, but he seemed to have simply disappeared. He'd been swallowed up out of the ground, as if he'd never been there at all.

And, being honest, at this point in the game you had no idea what to think. There was a jumble of thoughts and emotions inside your chest, all so crazy and frantic that you couldn't quite conjecture. That Bucky really hadn't existed would make as much sense in your head as the reality of that strange voice you'd heard out of nowhere in the middle of astral travel less than five days ago.

What the fuck was going on? Why couldn't you find Bucky? Why'd you had those memories when they weren't even yours? Whose voice was it? Why did it make you so suspicious of the team? Why did it seem like you were agreeing with it…?

Being alone with your thoughts wasn't the smartest choice of all, but Dr. Cho was done with the exams for the day and you had absolutely nothing to do. Probably by that time you had memorized every path, door and room in the Complex and were close to learning the color of every wall on every floor. The boredom was extreme and the ignorance did not make up for it.

Oddly enough, you hadn't met any of the team either.

It just seemed that every person you knew had disappeared from the Complex.

Alone with your luck, you wandered through every corner of the huge building until your head completely consumed you. You had in your mind only the memories of the last two weeks and that anything further back than that had disappeared. And you had tried to force the memories to come out, to give you answers and explanations, because no one around you seemed to have them or didn't want to give them to you. You had meditated, done grounding, watched hypnosis videos on YouTube, but you only got weird dreams in response. You tried everything, but it seemed like you simply hadn't had a life before the last two weeks. Were it not for the fact that it was impossible, you'd even doubt the few memories Bucky and some of the team had shared with you.

Like when one of the afternoons of the first week after several studies when Natasha and Steve came to keep you company and, among some of the things you were able to get out of them, they told you that you had once donated hundreds of dollars anonymously to several animal shelters that were about to close due to lack of funds across the country. Natasha also shared with you that one time when you were out on a girls' night out with the other girls on the team, you got so drunk that you bought five rounds in a row to everyone in the bar. The club gave you a membership after that.

Another day, Clint told you that you had rescued the two dogs that lived with his family in the field and for that alone his children considered you a real hero. He also told you that you had picked out many of the tattoos he had on his arm.

You also got Carol to tell you some things the first and last time you saw her. She told you that you two met in the middle of a fight and that you had beaten her. At that moment you remembered that you had laughed and asked her genuinely surprised how it was possible that someone with your physique and little fighting ability had been able to defeat one of the most powerful avengers, and she had only told you that you had caught her off guard. You didn't know it before, but you should have.

Tony was the one who shared one of the best memories with you. Your wedding day with Bucky. You hadn't even been able to get that information out of your own husband. He told you minute by minute what had happened that day, as if it had been his own. He told you how you had been nervous but confident since the morning, between hair and makeup, accompanied by your bridesmaids and him. He described the moments from the time you finished fixing your dress until you walked down the aisle and when you and Bucky said yes. He laughingly told you that Sam Wilson had gotten drunk on Asgardian liquor and gave the craziest and funniest speech of the night; he assured you that one of those days he would show it to you.

Between those and a handful of other stories, it was the only thing you had that assured you that you'd had a life before. And you were glad to know that you seemed to have lived it to the fullest, but that joy was mixed with a sour uneasiness in your chest that increased within you the desire for everything to go on as it had been before. But life being as unfair as only it could, you could only settle for imagining those memories that at some point you were able to evoke so vividly in your memory.

You also tried to ask questions about the blessed accident, about what had happened that day, but you never got a concrete answer. It seemed that every time you asked about it everything lined up around you so that the people you were with had to leave or simply left on their own with excuses that were too lame.

So, even though it seemed like you had maintained a good relationship with the team members and you had been a part of their lives and they had been a fundamental part of your life, you didn't trust them at the time. None of them. They never gave you any reason to trust, other than to talk about things in the past, and that maybe gave them the benefit of the doubt, but they hadn't done much on your behalf, so you weren't going to do it. You preferred to cling to doubt because it seemed to be the only certain thing among so much darkness.

Bucky seemed to be the only person you could really trust, that's why you had confessed to him what had happened in that hallway. But seeing now how he just disappeared, what were you supposed to think? In a situation like that, being the person you thought you were, you couldn't afford to trust just anyone. Especially when you didn't remember anything about anyone. Maybe you knew them well before, but what about now?

You went back to the control room when your feet started to hurt, the place where you started to spend more time those almost three days, mainly because you had magnificent view of all the cameras in the Complex and because your footprint was still registered with free access to the room, for some reason. It was past noon and you got tired of searching for answers in that meaningless labyrinth.

There was always a TV in the background on mute. You didn't know why. Maybe the person who should have been there instead of you liked to watch the news on mute. That seemed rather strange to you, almost suspicious. That every time you walked into the room there was no one there. You didn't even know if someone came in after you left or before you came in because you never saw anyone near its vicinity. But that didn't hold you back enough not to satisfy your curiosity.

You were watching that little screen when some familiar people started to appear in a corner of the newscast.

It was Steve and Carol.

With a frown you reached for the TV remote, which wasn't too far from the camera panels. You unmuted it and the words began to come fast.

“… the Avengers seemed to be having trouble with it. It's been over a year and it looks like this is a threat we won't be able to get rid of.”

As the presenter finished speaking, videos of the Avengers, many half-recorded with lousy cell phones and others with aerial views, took over the big screen. They seemed to be in different parts of the world, but the panorama was always the same: destruction and total chaos. Another voice began to narrate over the videos.

“October 27, 2022 is the day everyone remembers as judgment day. The sky turned purple and darkness surrounded the planet for seven whole days. Although scientists searched for answers, they did not think to look outside this planet. One man, an extraterrestrial, with immeasurable powers of destruction, has unleashed chaos on the planet ever since. He has not been credited with a name, but people call him-”

The screen went black and all you could see was your own stupefied reflection.

“What are you doing here?”

That voice stunned you.

You'd never heard it before, nor had you ever tried to get close enough to do so. For some reason you always preferred to stay away. And to have her show up now, right at that moment…

Still, even though she was the person you trusted the least on the team, and only because she had turned the TV off on you when you were discovering something that everyone had surely kept hidden from you and that had generated quite a bit of annoyance, you turned around and faced her.

“Who was that man?”

Wanda Maximoff didn't seem surprised by your question and your coarse tone of voice. She had indifferent features on her face, an unflappable seriousness that a person could only maintain after years of disappointments and suffering. At that moment you wondered if it had been the right thing to expel completely from your memory the fact that she had been one of your bridesmaids.

“A very bad man.”

“I'm not a child. Who is he?”

“No one you should care about.”

“Then why the hell did you turn off the TV? And why did you show up just then? Were you spying on me?”

Wanda didn't answer you, only focused on the control of the device she had levitating with one of her hands surrounded by that reddish mist so characteristic of hers. A shiver ran through your body, because you didn't even realize the moment she took it. Her eyes never left yours, and though you tried to keep your composure, she was too intimidating.

“Stop asking so many questions.”

Her open palm closed and with it she shattered the control. Its pieces fell noisily to the floor, interrupting the heavy silence that followed her words. If you had any doubts about taking that as a threat or not, you were left with none when you looked up from the floor, from the shards of the control ruined by her telekinesis, to see her face enserrated with eyes so dark you felt they could devour you.

Wanda wasn't playing around. For some reason she didn't want you to know anything about that man on the news.

Regardless of what she did or said, one thing that was certain was that this man was diabolical. The pictures and videos of the disasters, massacres and general destruction spoke for themselves. And even more so the fact that it seemed that the Avengers, united, had been unable to defeat him. The mere thought of his power, such that an entire group of super people couldn't stop him, made you shudder.

“Who do you think you are to say such things to me?”

Wanda rolled her eyes, and you saw her determined to turn around and head for the exit at once, as if that conversation with you wasn't even worth the effort, so you raised your voice:

“Does he have anything to do with what happened to me?”

You saw her stop on her feet, face inscrutable but her eyes glinted slightly. A small glint of surprise that gave her away. You almost pointed your index finger at her. It disappeared as fast as it could, but it had been there, you were sure. And her defensive stance didn't help her to maintain her nonchalant posture. You had hit the nail on the head. You didn't want to say you were right, but….

“It does have to do,” you mused.

“No,” Wanda spoke up, but too late for her liking. She had already changed and now looked like she wanted to rip her tongue out just because she had set out to answer your questions in the first place.

“Why is he related to me, is he to blame for me not remembering anything?”

“Stop it. That man has nothing to do with it.”

“You are a very bad liar.”

Wanda's eyes suddenly looked surprised, as if your words had been the answer to a problem she'd been searching for a solution to for years. Suddenly she didn't look terrified but… hurt. You couldn't help but compare that expression to the one Bucky wore the few times he had talked to you about things you didn't remember.

But her mask came back quickly and with a scowl she pointed accusingly at you.

“Stop asking questions and shut up.”

That time she left the room without you being able to think of anything to stop her.

You didn't know what to do anymore. You had spent hours thinking about what you had discovered and Wanda's expressions, but you couldn't find a connection that was big enough to justify the drama everyone was making about the accident. If she had tried to hide it from you like that it must be related. That, or maybe it was simply someone who had hurt her deeply and she couldn't bear to see him or talk about him.

Mmm…

So, if what had happened to you was because of him, that man personification of chaos, there was only one way to put it together: being an Avenger, you were sent on a mission to fight this great villain, but in the course of the fight you couldn't defeat him and he left you so wounded that you had that memory problem.

That's it. That must have been it, right?

But… it sounded so small compared to the fuss that seemed to surround the accident.

No one ever mentioned it, nor did it ever escape their attention, even if they were distracted. They were trying to avoid the subject at all costs and run out of your reach as fast as they could. That they did those things, that they avoided the subject like the plague, didn't fit so well that in the end that was the simple explanation. It had been a fatal accident in the field, surely it had happened to them before. It was an occupational hazard. So why were they hiding it from you like that?

There must have been something else going on, and you had no way of finding out about it, because you didn't happen to have a cell phone or internet access. You'd never questioned it before because it seemed like the logical thing to do, seeing what you were recovering from and they didn't want you to have information overload, but now it just seemed too suspicious.

With so many things inside your head, you decided to leave the Complex. You had never gone farther than the distance of the parking lot within what you could remember, but you knew that the back was full of trees and surely green trails that your peace of mind would enjoy very much in those moments.

There, as you walked away from the building, your mind went back to Bucky.

He was the person you least wanted to stop trusting, but for him to disappear from your sight after what you said to him was so strange. And that the others weren't present either was also suspicious. Bucky had done nothing but support you during that short time you remembered and all the memories you had of him only focused on his kindness and understanding. There was no way to paint him as the bad guy in the story.

Then, there was the other thing you really didn't want to think about…that voice… what it had said…

Whoop, wait.

What's that?

You stopped in the middle of the trees.

You didn't know how far you'd walked, but it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes since you left the Complex. You had been so focused on distracting your mind that you narrowly missed the strange thing that seemed to be in front of you.

An iridescent glow appeared a few feet away. It appeared and disappeared. It appeared somewhere else and disappeared. It was like bubbles. Or like the light that caused refraction when the sun rested directly on a clock or a mirror.

They weren't very powerful, you could barely notice the colors. But it did seem to be everywhere at the same time.

As you got closer, you noticed that your vision started to get a little blurry. Even though you touched your eyes, it wouldn't go away.

When you finally got close to it, to that kind of anomaly, you could notice that indeed the colors seemed to be everywhere because of the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees.

You also noticed that the blur did not disappear. But with a quick glance back and sideways, you realized that that strip stretched the length of the forest, and seemed to curve a few miles into the background.

What the hell was that? Your head was hammering for an answer, but you really couldn't understand what you were seeing. You could only process surprise and fear.

You raised a hand to reach through the blurry blanket and…

And…

You couldn't.

It was hard.

Too hard.

You moved your hand again, this time with your palm extended forward, and as soon as you made contact you could see ripples move from where your hand was upward.

That was a barrier.

And seeing how it extended sideways and upwards…

It had to be a dome.

But why was there a dome surrounding the Complex?

Your mind had barely begun to ask the important questions when you felt it. Everything happened very slowly.

An electric current passed from the barrier to your fingertips. You saw it coming from above. From your fingers it moved quickly to your arms and suddenly seemed like shock waves. You felt five currents, there gawking and dumbfounded, until the sixth electric current was so strong that it sent you flying a few meters back.

Surprised, you couldn't even react. You felt the emptiness of a fall as your body moved backwards, until you finally hit solid ground making a loud, elongated sound. You had crawled a little on the grass. In pain, you writhed on the ground, letting out slight groans. What was that supposed to be? Why had it thrown you like that? You hadn't even gotten out of a few questions and you were already entering another pile of questions.

When you sat down on the grass expecting to see the dome a few feet away, you were struck dumb when you saw that you were a long way from the trees. And several of them looked like they were cut down, very specifically they looked like they were cut in the direction you were thrown.

Without taking your eyes off that long path you stood up. It seemed to be that the current from the dome had thrown you so hard that you had gone all the way through the trees back to the entrance of the path. Even in the distance you could still glimpse the iridescent glows of the dome.

You were too surprised that you felt pain, but not too much. How could you not be in tremendous pain after crossing through fifty or so trees that fast?

But before you could continue thinking about the unreal situation you were going through, you heard a commotion in the back. In the parking lot. Being that the entrance to the trail was relatively close to the parking lot, you didn't have to walk too far until you began to make out faces.

They were the faces of the Avengers, especially Bucky.

You started walking faster when you spotted him and he wasn't far behind. It looked like he'd seen you sooner because he was already trotting towards where you were.

“Where were you?” you spoke quickly when he reached your side.

He didn't respond, just kept his gaze fixed on you. You barely noticed the dirt smudges on his face, and with a quick inspection he didn't seem to have any serious injuries on his body.

“Bucky?” you spoke again after several seconds with no response.

His body seemed frozen with his longing gaze fixed on your face. You missed his attitude, but at that moment you had important things to ask.

“Bucky, did you know there's a dome over the Complex?”

The aforementioned shook his head slightly. That question seemed to snap him out of his trance.

“And I saw someone on the news today. A man. Very destructive and evil.”

Bucky discomposed his face more and more. Suddenly, it looked like only fear and confusion made his expression. You didn't know if the right thing to do was to press on with asking or wait for him to say something.

The rest of the team, instead of entering the Complex, stood behind Bucky. You barely glanced past everyone because you really didn't want to see them, and you didn't want to have that conversation there either.

“Why don't we go inside?” you asked Bucky with pleading eyes as you grabbed his wrist to make him walk.

“There wasn't anything you could do, was there?” Bucky finally spoke, and you wondered for a moment if he was really talking to you or to what was going around in his head, because from the look on his face you could almost swear he was lost in thought.

His eyes were shining, emotions were passing too quickly across his face to identify them carefully. But one stayed with you: heartbreak. He looked like he had just been told that the love of his life had died. You thought for a moment if that was the expression he'd had when he found out about your accident.

The accident.

“Bucky, we have to-”

He embraced you. Hastily, he took your hand that had gripped his wrist and pulled you until he had you contained in his arms. His grip was so tight you feared he might bury your clothes in your skin. Still, his embrace felt like a welcome. Maybe that's how he would have hugged you if you had awakened from your coma with your memories intact. But you also felt desperation pouring from his pores, with the way he moved his hands over your arms and the way his breathing quickened and wouldn't calm down, even though you were so close. It seemed he feared you would disappear, that you would be gone again, out of his reach.

His thumbs caressed your skin, but it felt rough, hard, desperate. Bucky seemed to want to remedy something with that embrace. Maybe his guilt, maybe your pain. Maybe the time together you had lost. His touch almost surrounded the abuse, but his ragged breathing seemed to make up for it.

You wanted to push him away so you could go inside. You wanted to tell him what you had discovered in such a short time, the things you had surmised, but you couldn't find it within yourself to push him away. Not when it seemed he would faint if a millimeter of his skin didn't touch yours. Not when it seemed that your breathing near his ear was the only thing keeping him sane.

“I'm sorry. I really am,” was all he said, after several seconds.

His grip didn't lessen much over time. Rather, it stopped being a little desperate, but it was still strong. He didn't want to let you go.

And, for a moment, you decided to share his feelings. You hugged him back just as hard and also decided not to let go.

You hoped you were making the right decision.

Taglist: @cjand10 @yallgotkik @ruffdog921 @coracal @its-just-kayy @pono-pura-vida @vampiresarezombies @kaz11283 @vicmc624

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #stxrvel talks #calmly remember

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yelenasdiary · 5 months

Text

I hate that I am making this post but I am simply making it for the others to be aware of this particular person.

Below the cut there are mentions of suicide, nothing explicit but just a heads up x

Please know I am not making this to humiliate this person or cause them any harm, this is simply for others to be aware and to be able to lookout for themselves!

I’m not 100% confident on their name but they have used Alice before, but again, can’t confirm if this is actually their name. But I can confirm that the person I’m talking about has in fact done the same thing to another person & I can only imagine there are others.

This person gets a kick out of seeking help from others. They will tell you how sad and depressed they are, they will send you detailed messages on how they want to hurt themselves or how they have currently hurt themselves then suddenly stop replying, leaving you to worry and hope they are okay.

They’ll return a day or so later and apologise over and over how it wasn’t fair for them to put that on you and within minutes the conversation will shift and return to how depressed they are etc.

I started talking to this person around late March, I noticed rather quickly how odd I thought it was that they would message me around the same time every night. Thursday & Friday nights around 9-10pm, sometimes on a Saturday. They would then deactivate their blog out of nowhere or without a word and come back a week later acting like a different person but the story and detailed messages were the same.

Eventually they deactivated once again and I didn’t hear from them for a few months then 2-3 months ago I received an anonymous ask stating they were going to take their life and so on. I could tell this was the same person from the detailed information in the ask and decided to ignore it and reply to another ask of theirs asking them to kindly leave me alone. I blocked them and the next day I received asks saying that I had killed a girl.

“She reached out to you and you ignored her” etc etc. Of course I didn’t believe this at all so I blocked and deleted the asks. This person has shown me before how quickly they can become angry if things don’t go their way. They got upset with me once because I didn’t agree with them on their opinions on the police force and how they handle at risk people.

Then last week on Tuesday night, after I finished work I saw I had a spam or asks on my side blog (sokoviansecret) saying they hated me and what not, at first I didn’t think it was the same person and just another troll but the more asks I read after replying to 2 of them I knew it was them.

I told them that I wasn’t buying into their behaviour and to call a helpline if they seriously need help. On Wednesday night I came home from work to a spam of 20+ asks from 6:30pm to 7:45pm saying how a “Sydney girl was found dead by family” and that messages between me and then had “leaked” and that it was my fault that they “took” their life.

This is the second time this person has done this to me. So I again, told them I wasn’t stupid and I knew that they were not dead that they need to stop using this as a way to gain attention. I also mentioned that if they didn’t leave me alone for good I would take things further. I blocked them once again and I didn’t hear anything until the other night when somebody reached out to me with a screenshot of an ask another blog received.

“Yelenasdiary killed a girl

She had an OD she’s dead”

This is where I gave up. This person is now trying to tell people I am responsible for the death of somebody who isn’t even dead. Unfortunately I am not the only person this has happened too. I’ve had another person reach to me and tell me their experience and they confirmed the one of the blogs they were contacted from is the same blog I was contacted from.

The blog is now deactivated but if you ever spoke to a blog under the names: introvertedmoths, wandamaximoffspuppup or hellhoundskiss please know that everything they said was nothing but a lie. These are the 3 blogs that I currently know of and unfortunately I don’t know what their current blog is.

This person lies and abuses your trust. I never ever want anybody to feel the pain and suffering I do so of course I wanted to help and be somebody they could count on to be there for them but when I noticed it was all for their benefit, for the attention, I had to stop. They’re made because I stopped, because I don’t believe a single word they say.

If this person sounds familiar to you or you think you’ve experienced this person, please don’t let their behaviour have any effect on you! They are a sick individual person who needs help, help we can no provide.

Please be safe and look after yourself & others.

I’m sorry again to make such a long post but it seems tumblr won’t do anything and I refuse to let this person make me out to be a cruel individual.

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sequinsmile-x · 6 months

Note

I love your family fics... A happy marriage, happy kids, unlike what I had. You make my days better and I spend couple of hours before going to sleep reading all your fics. Thank you so much

Hi bestie!

I haven't stopped thinking about this message since I saw it last night. I genuinely feel honoured to help in anyway, and knowing you find comfort in my fics means more than I can put into words.

I've always said that I write because it helps me. It helps get thoughts out of my head, it stops me from thinking when I really don't want to, it helps me channel my creativity in a way that feels productive. And the fact it helps other people in whatever way? That's incredible to me.

Anyway, I thought I'd write you something that is for you. A fic where they are happy and have kids and have the family we all deserve. I hope you can come back to this as often as you need to, and know it was written with you in mind.

So this is for you, and anyone else who might need it!

-x-

Daylight

March 7th. The date that had once been carved on her gravestone and one she didn’t want to be written on her little girl’s birth certificate.

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Pregnancy, labour/birth

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

From the moment she found out her due date, she was determined that it wasn’t going to be her child's birthday. She’d gone as far as doing her own research, comforted by the fact there was only a 5% chance she’d have her little girl on the predicted date. She was further assured by the memory of her son’s birth. Oliver was almost two weeks late and she’d been induced. Aaron always joked that if he could, their 2-year-old son would climb back up inside of her, always keen to be wherever his mother was.

It mostly calms her nerves down, and lets her reassure herself for months that her daughter wouldn’t be exactly on time, that the day would pass as it did every year with little fanfare.

March 7th. The date that had once been carved on her gravestone and one she didn’t want to be written on her little girl’s birth certificate.

It felt wrong. The thought of something so happy, so full of joy as they completed their family, being on the same date as the day she died. The day her life changed forever five years ago, altered in a way she once thought she’d never get past. She didn’t want to associate her daughter, her sweet face still not something Emily could quite picture yet, with the worst day of her life. When her found family’s opinion of her was permanently shifted, when she died to save them, sent to another continent by the man she was now lucky enough to call her husband and the father of her children.

It wasn’t going to happen, not if she could help it.

Which was why she was absolutely not in labour.

She’d felt the first twinges in the middle of the night. The discomfort had torn her from sleep, her hand flying to her belly before she was even fully awake. She’d told herself they were Braxton Hicks contractions, something she’d been experiencing on and off for a couple of weeks. The pains had continued but were few and far between, and by the time Aaron woke up in the morning she’d half convinced herself it was nothing and just what came with being very pregnant.

Denial, she would later realise, was a very powerful thing.

She gets through most of the day ignoring that the pains are getting closer and the fact that Aaron keeps asking if she’s okay, clearly accepting the fact she was in labour much faster than she was. She shrugs him off, insisting she’s fine as she grips the arm of the couch whilst her stomach tenses and pain rolls over her like a wave. She gets through it, wanting nothing more than to simply make it to the end of the day, to get past midnight so her baby would be born on any other day.

Jessica comes round to pick up the boys after dinner, something that they’d agreed she’d start to do every evening in the lead-up to the baby being born so she wouldn’t have to come over in the middle of the night if Emily went into labour. Emily hugs Jack and Oliver a little tighter than she usually does as she says goodnight to them, aware, even underneath all her stubborn refusal, that the next time she sees them Oliver will no longer be her baby, and Jack will be an older brother again.

She’s standing in the kitchen making herself a snack when she’s stopped by another wave of pain, the spoon of peanut butter she’d had in her hand clattering to the countertop. She groans as she leans forward, her elbows on the kitchen counter as she breathes out slowly. She shifts her hips side to side, attempting to ease some of the pressure in her back.

“Sweetheart, I really think we should go to the hospital” Aaron says, reaching out to rub firm circles on her back, something that they’d figured out had provided her relief during her labour with Oliver, “The contractions are getting closer-”

“They aren’t contractions,” she insists as she cuts him off, her denial starting to sound weak even to herself, “It’s just some back pain,” she looks up at him. She attempts to smile, blowing out a breath as the wave of pain comes to an end, the tension in her body finally lifting, “I have done this before you know,” she says, trying to lighten the mood, to convince him that everything was fine. That she wasn’t having this baby today, “I know what I’m doing.”

Aaron watches her carefully and sighs as he shifts his hands to her hips and gently turns her to look at him. He sighs as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, his knuckles brushing against her cheek. He knew what was wrong, what was making his usually logical wife act so out of character, what was making her deny the obvious. He knew the significance her due date held the moment the doctor had told them, the day engraved into his memory just as it once had been on a gravestone that bore her name. He’d been preparing for this eventuality since that appointment, aware that whilst it was unlikely she’d give birth on her due date it wasn’t impossible.

She’d been defying the odds since the day he’d met her, so why would now be any different?

“I know what day it is, Em,” he says carefully, his heart twisting in his chest as she tenses. He cups her jaw and rubs his thumb back and forth over her cheek, “I understand what you’re trying to do, but you are in labour and we need to get the two of you to the hospital, okay?”

She clenches her teeth, misplaced irritation aimed at him flooding through her in an instant. Sometimes she hated how well he knew her, how he could read her like a book. It had been jarring when they first got together before she allowed herself to settle into the comfort of the way he loved her. She’d mistaken the way he liked to care for her as control, the small but loving actions he did to make her day easier, difficult to get used to. Cups of coffee before she’d ask for them, snacks placed in front of her before she even knew she was hungry. His embrace always willing and waiting to hug her, to provide comfort she still wasn’t very good at asking for. She shakes off the irritation, a physical movement of her head that ends with her leaning into his palm, his thumb wiping away the tear that the movement dislodges from her lashline.

“Today can’t be her birthday,” she says, her voice raw, torn open by emotions she’d stuffed in her chest for months, the words sharp and bitter as they finally escape from where she’d held them captive. She places her hand on her stomach, her arm curling around her bump as she tries to protect her unborn daughter, “It just can’t be, Aaron. I never want to associate…”

She drifts off, her voice catching as she tries and fails to suppress a sob. He tugs her forward, looping his arms around her as best as he can with their daughter trapped between them. He shushes her, his lips against her forehead as he rubs his hand up and down her back.

“Sweetheart, today might end up being her birthday,” he says softly, shushing her again when she holds on tighter, her fingers digging into his skin so tightly he can feel her blunt nails through his shirt, “But that means it’s the start of something new, right?” He asks, pulling back to look at her, his heart clenching at the look on her face, the unshed tears in her eyes, “It means that today wouldn’t just be sad, it would be good too. A new beginning for us.”

She sniffs, blowing out a steady breath as she wipes her face, irritated at herself as more tears fall onto her cheeks, “I just hate that he’s in this,” she says, hiccuping through a sob as she speaks, “He tried to kill me, he almost did, and the anniversary of that might end up being the day she's born.”

“Ian is not in this,” he says firmly but calmly, cupping her cheek to make her look up at him, her gaze having drifted to the floor at the mention of Ian’s name. She furrows her brow and scoffs and he smiles softly at her, storing away yet another moment in their lives when she managed to look intimidating even when crying, “He isn’t. It’s just you, me, the boys and our little girl.” He places his hand on her stomach, linking his fingers through hers, “We’re about to meet her, and that’s in spite of him, not because of him.”

She blows out a breath as she nods, leaning forward and pressing her head into his shoulder, “You’re right.”

He smiles and kisses the side of her head, “Really? I don’t think you’ve ever said that before.”

She hums and pulls away, wiping her cheeks again, “Yeah,” she says, stamping a kiss on his lips, “Plus, my water just broke all over your shoes.”

He pulls back and he looks between his now wet shoes and floor, the damp patch on her sweats, and the smirk on her face. He leans forward and kisses her, a fierce but quick thing against her lips, before he pulls back.

“I’ll get you some fresh sweats and grab myself some different shoes, then we’ll go to the hospital,” he says, squeezing her hand before he lifts it to kiss her knuckles, “Let’s go have a baby.”

She nods, her smile only fading when he’s out of the room again, her hand on her stomach as she starts to feel the beginning of another contraction, rolling through her body as it’s chased by anxiety she can’t shift.

“Yeah,” she says, blowing out a steady breath, “Let’s go have a baby.”

___

She grunts as she leans back against Aaron, whining as her body is barely given a chance to rest, her next contraction already building.

“Fuck,” she exclaims, squeezing Aaron’s hands tightly, “This sucks. This is so much worse than I remember,” she huffs out a breath, “Why didn’t I remember how much this sucks?”

“It’s nature’s way of tricking us into having more than one child,” her doctor says from the end of the bed, looking up at Emily from between her legs, her hand comfortingly on her knee, “Just another couple of pushes and your daughter will be here, Emily.”

Emily whimpers, a sound she would later deny entirely, and rests her head on her husband’s shoulder to look up at him. He’d climbed into the bed behind her hours ago, taking the same position he had when she gave birth to Oliver, her support both physically and emotionally as she brought their child into the world. She looks at their joint hands and sees the time on his watch.

11.35 pm

“Maybe she can wait 25 minutes,” she says, looking at her doctor, “It’s just another 25 minutes.”

The doctor exchanges a quick look with Aaron. He’d pulled her aside when they arrived, giving her a very abridged version of what was happening, why his wife was so hesitant to give birth today. He knows Emily wouldn’t thank him for it if she knew, but he wanted to keep her and their little girl safe, even if it meant enduring her wrath at a later date.

“Emily,” the doctor says, her smile so kind it makes Emily ache, “give me your hand.”

She nods, unclasping one of her hands from Aarons and reaching out to her doctor, letting her guide her until her fingers touch the top of her baby’s head, tears springing to her eyes as she chokes out a sob.

“She’s got so much hair,” she breathes out, her voice shaking almost as much as she was.

“And she’s almost here,” the doctor says, “We don’t have 25 minutes.”

Emily nods and leans back against Aaron, reaching for his hand again, her body starting to take over, pushing despite the fact she really doesn’t want to. She falls back against her husband again as she takes a moment to breathe in between pushes, aware that with every passing second, she gets closer to having her little girl in her arms.

“It’s all your fault you know,” she says, squeezing his hands tightly, “She gets it from you.”

He chuckles softly, his lips against the side of her head, “She gets what from me, sweetheart?”

She groans as the next contraction starts, “Being punctual.”

Her words turn into a scream as she pushes for a final time, her body sagging into Aaron’s as the piercing cry of a baby fills the room. Emily breathes out and it catches in her chest as her daughter is held up for her to see and she reaches her shaking hands to hold her.

“Congratulations,” the doctor says, her words, and everything other than Aaron and the baby in her arms, fading away as Emily looks at her daughter's face for the first time.

“Hi sweet girl,” she says, tears spilling down her cheeks as she holds the still-screaming baby against her chest, “Look at you,” she looks up at Aaron and isn’t surprised to see he’s crying too, “Look at her.”

“She’s beautiful,” he says, kissing his wife, “I love you so much,” he murmurs against her lips before he looks at the baby, now slightly calmer as she settles against Emily, “Hi princess,” he says, his eyes taking in every feature of her face, committing it to memory because he knew how much of a thief time was, how quickly she’d change right in front of him, “You look just like Mommy.”

Emily chuckles, “Sorry about the nose, baby,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down her daughter’s back, shifting to press her lips against her forehead. She looks up at her husband, “What time is it?”

Aaron looks at his watch and then back at his wife, blowing out a slow breath before he answers, “It’s 11.50, sweetheart.”

She chokes out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, shaking her head as she looks back down at her daughter.

“That’s okay,” she says, her voice still shaking, overwhelmed with hormones and emotions she can’t find the name for. Suddenly everything she’d spent months worrying about didn’t seem to matter. She doesn’t feel sad, or disappointed, two things that seem impossible as she looks at her newborn’s face, but instead she feels happy, overwhelming joy she never thought she’d get to feel at this time five years ago, “That’s more than okay,” she strokes a finger up and down her daughter’s cheek, “Happy birthday, sweet girl.”

___

Emily smiles as she rests her head on Aaron’s shoulder, looking down at the baby girl in his arms. They were snuggled together in her hospital bed, both of them exhausted but happy as they stared at the latest addition to their family.

“Jess said she’s on the way,” Aaron says softly, looking at his wife. She was beautiful in her exhaustion, ethereal almost with her hair in the braids he’d done for her after she’d showered, “Apparently the boys are very excited to meet their sister.”

She hums as she reaches out to touch the baby’s head, stroking over the thick dark hair that was impossibly soft, “We need to think of a name,” she says as she continues to stroke her hair, “None of the ones we thought of seem right.”

They’d gone back and forth for months, arguing over girl's names ever since they’d found out they were having a daughter. Nothing seemed like it fit their little girl, especially now they were looking at her. The baby starts to fuss and Aaron immediately hands her to Emily, smiling at the sight of his girls together.

“I have a suggestion,” he says as Emily settles the baby into her arms, her smile soft as she looks up at him.

“Yeah? What is it?” She asks rocking the baby as she calms down, content to be in her mother’s arms.

“Alba,” he replies, reaching out and adjusting the blanket around the baby, “It means dawn, or sunrise,” his smile turns shy as she stares at him, her expression unreadable to him for once, “Since she’s our family’s new beginning.”

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her lungs, and she shakes her head at him, “How long have you had that in your back pocket?”

He shrugs, “Since we found out your due date,” he says, watching as she looks back down at the baby, nerves making his heart seize, “If you don’t like it-”

“I love it,” she says, cutting him off as she looks at him, her smile wide, “It suits her. Alba Hotchner.”

“Alba it is,” he replies, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips, his hand cupping the back of their daughter’s head, “Hi Alba.”

There’s a knock at the door just before it opens and Jessica’s head pops around it, “Is there a tiny baby in here?” She asks, her smile soft, “I have two very excited little boys out here.”

Aaron stands up, “Come on in.”

As the door opens fully he grabs Oliver, hauling the toddler onto his hip as he makes a beeline for his mother.

“Remember what we said, Ollie,” he says, walking over, his other arm around Jack’s shoulder as his eldest is more controlled in his excitement.

“Gentle with Mama and baby sissy,” Oliver says, his thumb in his mouth as he looks at Emily, his smile wide as he rests his head on Aaron’s shoulder, “Hi Mama.”

“Hi sweet boy,” she says, making sure Alba is tucked safely in the crook of one of her arms whilst she wraps the other around Oliver once Aaron eases him onto the bed, “I missed you.”

Oliver snuggles up into her side, a little rougher than she can take, and she hides a wince, never wanting to scare him, “Missed Mama.”

Emily smiles at Jack who was standing next to the bed peering into the bundle in her arms. He beams at her, the same excitement in his eyes that he had when he first met Oliver a couple of years ago. There were moments when she wondered if Jack missed when life was just him Aaron, when it was quiet and he didn’t have a little brother, and now sister, splitting his parent's attention and following his every move, but then there were moments like this. When she saw the love in his eyes, the joy she’d been a part of, her role in helping Aaron fulfil his final promise to Haley something she held dear.

“Jack, Ollie,” she says, looking between her sons, purposely ignoring the clicks of both Jess and Aaron’s camera phones as she speaks, “This is Alba.”

“She’s so pretty,” Jack says as he looks at his sister and then back at Emily, “She looks like you, Mom.”

Emily unwraps her arm from around Oliver and cups Jack’s cheek, pulling him in his kiss his forehead. She still wasn’t entirely used to him calling her Mom, and part of her hoped she never would be. That it would always make her feel as overjoyed as she had the first time, that random Tuesday morning when she’d shifted from Emily to Mom with little fanfare from the little boy.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she says, “Do you want to hold her?”

Jack opens his mouth to say yes, but is cut off by his younger brother, his voice a little too loud in the otherwise peaceful room.

“I want sissy,” he insists, his eyebrows furrowing in a way that never failed to make him look exactly like Aaron.

“You can both hold her,” Aaron says, stepping forward to pick up Oliver and placing him in the large chair next to the bed, “Jack, you sit next to your bother.”

Jack nods enthusiastically and does as he’s told, “I remember what to do,” he says, wrapping one of his arms around his brother, “We have to be gentle, and make sure her head is supported.”

Emily hands over Alba to Aaron, ignoring her instinct to snatch her back even though she wasn’t leaving her line of sight.

“That’s right Jack,” Aaron says, handing Alba to Jack, making sure that she was safely in the laps of her brothers. He stays close, his hand under Jack’s elbow to provide additional support. He turns to look at his wife as he sees a flash go off, and he raises his eyebrow at her when he sees her phone in her hands pointing at them all.

“What?” She asks, raising her eyebrow in challenge, “You can take pictures and I can’t?”

He winks at her before he turns his attention back to his children, softly talking to the boys as they ask questions about Alba. Jessica walks over too, leaning over the back of the chair to look at her niece. Their conversation fades out as Emily looks at the picture of her husband and children on her phone. She immediately sets it as her wallpaper, wanting it as a reminder of what she has now, what she had been able to create for herself despite everything.

Her new beginning and happy ending wrapped up all in one, the soft epilogue she knew she truly deserved.

-x-

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#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #emily prentiss fanfiction

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spid3rpunksimp · 8 months

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Hello this my first time doing this but if you don’t mind can I request a Hobie x reader where the reader is in a somewhat depressive state because they miss their best friend that they’ve been friends with for 6 years. And they haven’t seen them in 3-5 months but to them it seems like a year. And reader is having breakdowns at random times through the day. But tries to hide it and make it seem like they are ok but it’s obvious that they aren’t ok.

You can ignore this if you want

Ngl, I know this one is a personal request. I know how it feels to be depressed, or have depression for that matter. If I'm correct I hope you know that your loved and that it'll be okay

Just pretend

Bst.F/N=Best friend's name

I tear trickled down my check as I looked in the mirror, and hand over my mouth. I missed them so much. It was so painful to sit here without them. Memories of us sitting together and laughing at jokes that didn't even make since to our self's flooded my mind as more tears fell as knocking on the bathroom door broke the silence as I was cover the sound of my silent weeping.

"Love? A'e you alright?" Hobie said to be through the sound of the door as I wiped away my tears and tried to make my voice sound as normal as possible. "Yup! Just finishing up!" I said as I grabbed a mascara bottle and put some one, trying to hide any sight of the fact that I was just crying. Hobie knew about me and my best friend, he knew that they had moved away just about five months ago, he knew I was hurting because of it, but I was determined to make sure he didn't know just how badly this was affecting me, I don't want him to worry...

As I unlocked and opened the bathroom door I stepped out and hugged Hobie tightly with a warm smile on my face. "Coffee?" I said as I looked up at him with pleating eyes. It was something that really kept me going throughout the day. "Of course, love." Hobie chuckled back as I let go of him and started walking to the door.

Our entire drive there was practically silent. I stared out the window as I felt tears threaten to fall from my face as another flash back of me and my best friend flooded my mind once more. I thought about how me and my best friend would go out and get coffee together on Saturdays and we would simply talk about our life's. Before me and Hobie were dating I would tell her everything about our friendship and as soon as me and Hobie started dating I would tell her everything that was going on between our relationship. She was even there for me and Hobies first kiss.

"Love?" Hobie said in a worried tone as I jolted back to reality, looking over to him holding back the tears best I could, "You alright love? You ain't answer'in me and I've been tellin you we're here for the past minute." Hobie told me as I simply blinked wide eyes as I felt the tears begin to make their way out of my eye. "Sorry, must've spaced out there." I said as I unbuckled and got out of the car quickly, walking inside and to the bathroom as quickly as I could.

As soon as I got into the bathroom I broke. The pain was so much, I couldn't handle it alone but I had to. My best friend ended up getting a new number and had forgotten to tell me exactly what it was. It was killing me on the inside cause I knew I would most likely never see them again. As that thought came into my mind I broke once again, covering my sobs with my hand as someone else came into the bathroom. I felt steamy tears roll down my eyes, falling onto my ripped jeans as more and moire followed after, mascara becoming ruined.

After the person had left I took my hand off of my mouth and whipped my tears with a piece of toilet paper, throwing it away and walking out of the bathroom shortly after.

"Babe.." I heard Hobie say beside me as I stepped into the car. "Yeah?" I said giving him a smile. Looking at his expression my smile slowly faded as he examined my face. "Love what's going on?" he asked me as I simply looked at him blankly. "What do ya mean? I'm great!" Hobie looked at me concerned as he handed me my coffee and put the car into reverse and began to drive out of our parking spot. "Whatever you say.."

As the car drove by building after building, I felt tears come up once again as I took small sips of my coffee. I felt Hobies eyes on me. I knew he knew. It was stupid of me to think I could hold up a game like this for so long.

As we pulled into the parking lot and walked up the stairs towards our apartment it was silent. Tears pecked at my eyes and burned them as I held them back with all the force I could muster up. As we opened the door I couldn't take it anymore as I dropped the coffee entirely and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. After, I turned the water on and slid down the door as loud, sad sobs erupted from my mouth. Tears ran down my cheeks and ran down my nose, face, and chin. Some tears went into my mouth as I tasted the salty water mix of sadness.

Knock knock knock

The knocks were genital. Soft and full of worry. "Please let me help." I heard a genital voice say as I covered my mouth. Hobie had been listening the entire time I was crying. Before I could stop myself I felt myself reaching up and unlocking the door, moving over to the wall behind the door as I felt it open quietly. "This is about (Bst.f/N) innit?" he said as he gave me a soft look, sitting down next to me and hugging me genitally. I shook my head.

"Its okay to talk to me about this stuff." hobie said as he moved me to his lap as I straddled him, putting my head on his shoulder as I sobbed louder as I felt him genitally pet me, playing with the bottom of my shirt as we simply sat there as I cried.

"It's okay, love. I'm right here."

I'm so sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted it was just what I had come up with so yeah thank you for the request though!

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sh1tbird-shantytown · 1 year

Text

hi y’all. long time no see :-) so i’ve been gone for…a while. and i am working on that ask you sent if you know who you are. so expect that (it’s gonna be a whole story on ao3 cause you sent it months ago) that’s all my bad. but anyway, as an introduction back i’m gonna quickly rewrite one of my more popular (and unpopular) pieces on here as i re-enter the harringrove community again. i give you another version if karen wheeler gets what she deserves

;

Billy knew he had issues. Sure, he didn’t necessarily like to acknowledge them. He knew that too. He was reminded of it everyday.

His mom used to tell him that good people were easy to recognize. That if you look hard enough through a crowd they almost seemed to stand out more than everyone else. And he remembered she’d emphasize that they weren’t always pretty of handsome, she’d say looks were always deceiving. It’s the eyes that hood most of the soul.

His dad didn’t have kind eyes, they were dark and hollow and cold. He doesn’t know what, but Neil’s eyes died out before Billy grew a conscience.

When he first met Steve Harrington, the boy had more emotion just in his eyes than anyone Billy ever cared to remember. He thinks that’s why he couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. He took up such a small amount of space even though his personality had used to take up the whole school. He had history and he had hurt, but even if he made a fool of himself he still made an effort for Billy.

He thinks, maybe, that’s why he liked the guy as much as he did.

Karen Wheeler turned out to be one of those pretty people that his mom had warned him about. She had eyes kinda like Neil’s. Except instead of being cold, they were just dull.

He thinks that Karen Wheeler is a little like his mom. He hates himself for it, but he can’t just be friends with some mom. He clocked her attraction to him on the first night he met her. When he had been looking for Steve Harrington.

He’d felt disgusted. He ignored Steve Harrington and Karen Wheeler for weeks.

Steve Harrington approached him the day before Christmas break.

“Do you have holiday plans?” he’d leaned against Billy’s car and folded his arms against the cold.

Billy flicked his lighter, having ran out of cigarettes the week before, “No.”

“Me neither.”

It hadn’t been much of a conversation, in fact it was the most they’d had of one since the first basketball practice they’d shared. It had ended in them flipping each other off while grinning from ear to ear.

Billy counted it as a Christmas gift.

Steve continued talking to Billy from time to time. They discussed about lame shit after school until it came time that they had to leave to their respected homes.

He learned that Steve played hockey and liked the color blue and his favorite holiday was Valentine’s day. Billy told him that his favorite color was yellow and that he secretly liked Elton John and that his favorite season was spring.

“I thought you’d be more of a summer kind of guy,” Steve had told him over a bag of Cracker Jacks.

“Even though I’m allergic to them, I like the flowers,” he’d explained. And Steve had stared at him a long while after. Billy felt warm that day.

Steve had those soulful, kind eyes that Billy gradually felt himself stumbling over days to get to see.

It scared him, admittedly. Opening the can of worms that was his sexuality.

So, the closer he got to Steve Harrington, the more he inched towards Karen.

The dull eyes dragged him back down to Earth against his will even as he asked for it to happen. He knew she was a selfish woman, looking for anyone’s attention because she was simply unsatisfied in a cushy, suburban home. He knew he was selfish right back in seeking out her attention.

He hadn’t actually thought she’d act upon it.

It was one thing making lame eyes and leaning against doorframes. But the woman was desperate in her mission to be noticed. He didn’t feel up to it. He was scared of her scorn, of any words she’d say to him if he dropped his lame act.

He prayed at night that she’d just forget about him. Maybe she’d stop picking Mike up from school and stop waving in his direction every day. He asked for forgiveness because all his guilt was so heavy he could barely pick himself up off of the floor when he was done. He felt his personality slipping everyday Steve asked him why Mrs. Wheeler was waving at them. Biting his tongue when he wanted to emphasize that she was waving at him not them. He was her prize. He was a big pot of gold and nothing else. She had her family, now she wanted a toy of her own.

He resented Nancy and Mike Wheeler as they ignored him. He hated Mrs. Wheeler and her outdated flirting. He wanted to hate Steve because the dimwit didn’t immediately understand what was happening.

It took a month for Steve to stop asking about Karen’s weird behavior and for him to finally understand.

“You and her are flirting.”

Billy wasn’t startled easily, but he was in that unprecedented moment, “Who?”

Steve crossed his arms, unamused, “You know who.”

Billy dropped.

Really. He fell on his ass right on top of the gravel.

He couldn’t tell if he was relived or more terrified.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

Steve didn’t hide his emotions well, especially when he was worried.

“You’re shaking, Billy.” He kneeled down to Billy’s side. “Does this have to do with her?”

Billy couldn’t answer because he heard fast approaching heels make their way over to them.

“Oh my God, Billy? I saw you fall from over there, are you okay?” Mrs. Wheeler’s eyes stood out by the way she put on her makeup that day. Billy hated it because her eyes lacked the life Billy wanted to see.

He wanted to see the emotions Steve illuminated so freely, the love Steve had grown to so freely give to Billy now. And that’s what he looked for when he couldn’t find himself remembering the kind of person he pretended to be for Karen and his father.

He was just Billy in that moment. Little broken Billy Hargrove with nothing and everything to lose.

Steve stepped up and intercepted the woman, “Give him some space, Mrs. Wheeler. He’s really tired and he doesn’t need strangers asking a bunch of questions at the moment.”

Karen nonchalantly waved him off, “Oh, I’m not a strange—“

Steve interrupted, “Yes you are.”

Bill looked up at him as Karen gawked.

“Billy?” she glanced down at Billy like he could control the situation unraveling. The thing that really broke the dam of Billy’s head was the fact that she asked his name like she wasn’t exactly sure that was the right one.

Steve switched from civil to authoritative. The kind of look Jim Hopper gets when the townspeople start to question his authority and he has to show them he knows what’s up.

“I think you better leave us now, Mrs. Wheeler. Before I do something I might regret.”

Based off of the way Steve glanced back down at him, Billy was pretty sure Steve would not feel that bad about whatever it was he was thinking about.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #stranger things #billy/steve #jim hopper #neil hargrove #karen wheeler #tw karen wheeler

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justinmitchellfan · 9 months

Text

ARIANA GRANDE X MERCEDES VARNADO LOVE STORY SMUT WARNING ⚠️ PART 26 of the continuation of the she's the one love story

Chapter 56 title: the show goes on

Mercedes point of view

I groan loudly and exaggeratedly flail on the bed as my Alarm goes off then completely laying flat before reaching over and turning it off, slowly opening my eyes, I let out a yawn and huff then sit up and the blanket and sheets from the hotel bed fall down to my waist and I reach over the empty side of the bed and grab my phone, ignoring the first few sets of notifications, I go to my messages and I instantly smile a little at the ones from my family and friends, a lot of 'I miss yous' abd compliments on the tour and I reply to all of them ,telling each of them I love and miss them

After checking up on my socials ,liking some of the pictures people have posted about tour ,I toss my phone aside and get up and a few of my bones pop as I stretch and the sleep rolls off my Body and I yawn and scratching my stomach and smacking my lips, I go and open the curtains, nearly blinding sunlight blares through the window and it takes a few blinks to adjust to it, once my eyes do though I look at the scenery before me: London, the country is beautiful, as are most of the ones I've been to in the past, the architecture has this like, old timey vibe to it that I kind of like

As amazing as it's been to explore London a little and all the other countries I've been to over the duration of this four month tour ,I miss home, a lot and when I released 'say my name', my third album and it blew up, the label was chompin at the bit to make the most of the success of the album and it was out for three months before it went platinum, after that, they started planning the tour and I was excited as hell when they told me that one: it'd be a world tour and two: I'd be headlining with kehlani and we vibed on our song and even more so on the set of the music video, being on tour together brought us even closer

She's dope as hell and while she is super laid back she still likes to just have fun and go with the flow and rumors about us started stirring up at the very beginning of the tour, simply Because of the choreo we had worked out for our song together then when we were in Tokyo a few weeks ago they got even worse and after the show, that was a complete success, we decided to hang out a bit and the night started with us going to a club with some of the crew, having some drinks and dancing but kehlani isn't one for clubbing like that so it didn't take long for her to get bored and as she was about to leave, I asked where she was going and she told me to come with her if I wanted to find out so I did

Turns out it wasn't anywhere special, we hit up a few food spots and went to a dope super arcade type place, there were like three floors full of games and shit and we had mad fun, we woke up the next morning in completely separate hotel rooms despite what media was saying and apparently a number of 'inside sources', nosey ass fans, saw me and kehlani 'on a date' in Tokyo where we ended the night in bed together and I still want to know what 'inside source' saw me and kehlani enter a hotel room together

Anyway, that night didn't cause the drama that the media hoped it would, in fact it didn't do anything, me and Ariana laughed at it when I called her the next morning and she and kehlani spoke to each other over the phone because we some mature ass adults and know better than to listen to money hungry ass paparazzi and there are still rumors going on about me and kehlani, at one point they even suggested that me and Ariana asked kehlani to be apart of our relationship and were now a 'thruople' ,that was bullshit too and recently there hasn't been much said which is good, the focus can now be solely on the tour

With another loud yawn I head to the bathroom, quickly doing my routine of showering ,brushing my teeth and doing my hair and when I have to pee, I sit down instead of standing instantly jumping back up at the feeling of the cold water on my tip and after I correct that, I use the bathroom and leave out and since I'll have to change for the concert tonight anyway, I just throw on some joggers and a hoodie then I finally leave out and I stop in the hotel lobby and get a cup of coffee then I step outside and wait for the car and it pulls up and I slide in, greeting the driver then sitting back as he pulls off

It's almost noon when I arrive at the venue so I don't have to rush to get things done, I run through sound check with ease then chat with a few crew members and dancers then I head to my dressing room, just as I pull the mini fridge open, the door behind me opens and frowning, I turn around, only to roll my eyes at the sight of kehlani "wassup as I nod to her ,sipping my juice and stepping over to the table of snacks I asked for and I remember when they asked me for my 'rider' and I had no idea what it meant so my dumbass was lookin mad confused then they explained that it was simply a list of things I wanted in my room, they gave me a day to get the list together and I did

The first thing I needed to be included was wifi and a shower in the bathroom and the rest of my rider included snacks: my all time favorite drinks, a few red bulls, a bottle of ciroc, water, a set up for tea, an assorted fruit tray, hot cheetos and cheeto puffs, Ben and Jerry's strawberry shortcake ice cream and ham lunchables and with that memory in mind ,I grab a bag of hot cheetos and two lunchables from the mini fridge then sit down "shouldn't you be gettin ready as I ask her as I sit down, starting to assemble a little sandwich

Kehlani grabs a bag of my cheeto puffs and plops down beside me "I am ready says kehlani and my eyebrow raises and I look down at her clothes, a pair of baggy brown sweatpants and an equally baggy white tee "I am ready for meet and greets, meanwhile you don't look ready for nothin says kehlani and I scoff, looking down at my clothes then back up at her "if you can wear that I can wear this says mercedes "no nigga there's a difference says kehlani as she pushes the side of my head abd stands up, making a point of taking a few steps back and gesturing to the outfit "this is my style, my fans expect me to dress like this and it's called swag, you look bummy says kehlani

"Woow as I laugh a little, starting on my second lunchables "I don't look bummy, I look comfortable but since you talkin shit as I set my stuff aside and get up, snatching a garment bag off the rolling clothes cart before I slip into the bathroom and changing clothes doesn't take long, about 5 minutes later my sweats and hoodie are folded on the counter on top of the garment bag and I'm stepping out the bathroom in my new outfit and kehlanis eyebrows raise a little, a small smirk pulling at her lips "yeah, I always look good so you can shove ya bummy up ya ass as I go back over and sit next to her "ight ight, no need to get hostile says kehlani as she jokes "you look good says kehlani and I nod "damn right says mercedes

After I finish eating my snacks and drinking my juice, me and kehlani take a few shots of ciroc while we hang out, Jackson and my style team flitter in and out of the room , taking pictures and making sure I look presentable before my show and eventually kehlani steps away to do meet and greets and that's when I take a second to interact with some more fans on social media and I post a selfie of me with Jackson and my style team, a big cheesy grin on my face as I caption it 'excited to be in Manchester' and it doesn't take long after that for a stage hand to peek into the room and tell me I've got 5 minutes to get to the stage and quickly taking one more shot with a chaser, I slip my phone into the safe with the rest of my stuff, lock it up and head out

Once I make it to the side stage entrance, I take a long Slightly shaky inhale, slowly releasing it and slightly bouncing in place to shake my nerves away despite having been doing this nearly every night for the past few months I'm still incredibly nervous and a world tour is so much bigger than anything I've ever done, performing for a different city in a different country almost every night feels like starting the tour over from scratch and there's pressure to perform perfectly at every show because I want everybody to have the same amazing experience and my heart pounds in my chest and even though I take another deep breath it doesn't work and since my phone is locked up in my room I can't call the one person who can, without fail, help me get rid of this nervous feeling

"You look like you bout to take off as I hear a familiarity soft and quiet voice from beside me, one I've been listening to all day and shaking my head I turn to the woman co-headlining this tour with me and chuckle half-heartedly "nah I wouldn't run but shit says mercedes and her brown eyes narrow at me and she tilts her head ,a comforting smile forms on her lips and she steps closer, placing a gentle hand on my arm as she says "you got this mercedes, ain't nothin to be nervous about as she adds a few rubs to my arm and I feel my heart rate start to slow "thanks Lani as I return her smile and finally take a calm deep breath "I got this says mercedes

"Damn right as she squeezes my arm, looking into my eyes for a moment longer before dropping her hand and stepping back "I was gon show you up either way but at least you'll be on your a-game says Lani and a snort of a laugh leaves my lips as I step closer to the stairs leading to the stage "I'm Finna go hard so I hope you gon be on yours says mercedes and with that said, I wink at her and step on stage and just like I always do, I do a slightly slow little strut to the middle of the stage and the crowd screams as I do and it makes me chuckle quietly into the mic as it's turned on

"Wassup Manchester as I smirk at the low and deep tone of my voice, it's completely natural and it perfectly matches the seductive vibes I'm trying to set "how we feelin says mercedes as another round of screams "ight ight I'm diggin it, I know yall know this one as the beginning of my first song starts and they scream again even after I start talking some more "I'm Finna switch this shit up,let's go says mercedes "🎶we ain't in a rush, girl, it's just us, girl(no), let me know wassup, girl, wassup, girl(girl yeah), cause I'm tryna slow it down, beat it up, go down, eat it up, take it down, down, down, down, then ima beat it up"

I smirk a little, singing through the chorus then moving to the edge of the stage, looking down at a group of boys and girl who keep screaming and reaching for me "I know that life moves too quick for ya, sometimes, we should pull up to the kickback, smoke one with me one time, tell me bout all the freaky secrets, all them troubles that you got on your mind, just Bring them to life, put that shit on a film and watch It back on rewind" and reaching down, i take the hand of a blonde girl, holding onto it as I sing "we ain't in a rush, girl, It's just us, girl, let me know wassup, girl, wassup, girl " and I move over to the next group " cause I'm tryna slow it down, beat it up, go down, eat it up, take it down, down, down, down, then ima beat it up"

I back up and sing the chorus to the entire arena and it's still an otherworldly experience to hear them singing the lyrics, every do often I catch the sound of some of their accents and my heart fucking melts, it's so fucking surreal, reminding me of all the times I'd heard my songs being sung in different languages as I've been on tour and letting the energy of the crowd carry me through my performance, I morph through a range of emotions and vibes and some songs are off my new album and others are from my first ep, regardless of how old the songs are majority of the crowd knows the lyrics

The hour and a half set comes and goes in seemingly the blink of an eye and having already used my two stand by songs, in case the crowd wanted to hear more and I reach part of my set that smoothly transitions into kehlanis set "what yall know bout don Julio as I ask and they scream in excitement, knowing what song is about to be performed "I miss all them chances, that's caus you don't text me, I miss that ass from Houston, shit bigger in Texas, I miss the way you ride it, shotgunning confessions, I'm scrolling through her texts , I got a confession now( I'm I'm) ,fucked up in the section, I'm, I'm, I'm, fucked up in the section, I'm, I'm, I'm"

The dance I do is majority grinding, a slight flip thrown in there(Chris brown style) and then me charming that crowd, that is until kehlanis part comes up "ooh, feel like just us up in the section, drunk me is a blessing, I can cure all of your stressing, oh" and she slowly makes her way up the side of the stage, singing directly to me, she and I both know there's nothing between us for more than one obvious reason but the crowd fuckin loves the 'sexual tension' between us so we play it up during performances "text me when we leaving, hop in my two seater, we can ride out past Reseda"

When she gets close enough, she rests her arm over my shoulder, both of us swaying and bouncing to the next song as she sings and with her next verse I reach for her waist and she turns away, smirking as she stalks up to the edge of the stage and sings to the crowd " you relax and lay the seat back, dinner time, look where the feast at, walk of shame, I don't believe that, we can creep back, right back to the section " and I walk up behind her as she slowly stands up, her back presses against my front ,my hand circling her waist as I sing the chorus and once it's over, we smile and hug real quick "give it up for mercedes yall says kehlani as her soft voice floats through the arena and the crowd cheers

Bowing to them in thanks, I nod to kehlani and step offstage as she starts her set and with a deep breath, I pass my mic and in-ears off to the stage hand, thanking him before I head back to my dressing room and as soon as I collapse back onto the couch, my phone buzzes, pulling it out shows me notification reminder of my appointment, despite the time zone difference, I still have to keep up with it and quickly showering, I change back into my sweats and hoodie and gather my stuff before pulling up the contact and dialing her, it rings a few times over and over before she picks up "mercedes, Glad to see you're not using your tour as an excuse not to call, again says the therapist

I nod to the security guard before I slip into the back seat of the SUV "awe come on doc, you didn't even give me a chance to says mercedes "as a therapist I'd see through it anyway so it's best you don't waste either of our time yes says the therapist and sighing, I slouch in my seat "yeah you're right says mercedes and her chuckle sounds through the phone before she asks me how I'm doing and for the rest of the ride to the hotel and up to my room I talk to her, she listen to everything I say and in turn provides incite or advice and I've been doing these sessions with her for over a year so it slightly feels like routine but I know it's necessary and it always helped so I don't have a problem with it

My session ends a little bit after I've gotten to my floor, I say goodbye to my therapist and with the happiest smile I've had all day, I scroll through my contacts and click on the one labeled 'wifey💍🌎💕👑' and while it rings, I order room service, getting a shepherds pie and some Remy and their chocolate brownie and once I'm done ordering, I hang up and look at my phone ,seeing that it's no longer ringing and the call has been connected "ari as I ask, holding the phone to my ear with a frown and there's a pause then her voice floats into my ears like music "hey baby says Ariana and a sigh falls from my lips "hey babe, how are you says mercedes "I'm okay, I really miss you says Ariana with her voice taking a sad tone that quite honestly breaks my heart

I sigh again "I miss you too ari, I miss home in general says mercedes "I know but you'll be home tomorrow, everyone's been talking about it says Ariana and this time I hear her smile in her voice "Anthony and Frankie have been all tore up over you, even my mom says it's been too long since she's last seen you says Ariana and chuckling softly, I agree, the last time I saw everyone was my show in Canada a few weeks ago, my friends and family came out to see my show in Montreal and it was an absolute blast, after the show I treated everyone to dinner and after Joan and Nonna went to the hotel, the rest of us hung out around town, kehlani tagging along for a few hours

"Just one more show before I'm home and I won't be going on tour for a while after this so everyone will get plenty of time to start getting sick of me as I tease making her laugh, God I miss her laugh, we talked yesterday and the day before that and nearly every day since I've been on tour but that doesn't make it any better, absence makes the heart grow fonder but it also makes me miss my wife like all hell and there's a small pause before I hear her again "how'd your appointment go says Ariana as she asks over the sounds of her getting ready for the day and I shrug, crossing my ankles and completely laying back on the bed "it was alright, Same as always, she asked how I'm feeling, if I have any discomfort and Yada Yada says mercedes

"Do you have any discomfort says Ariana as she asks, a small smile pulling at my lips as I hear the dogs barking in the background "shh I'm on the phone with mercedes says Ariana as that only makes them bark more and as she tries to calm them down, I put the phone on speaker as there's a knock on my door and I happily pop up and go get my food, tipping the server, I set my food up by the couch, changing into my pajamas then getting comfortable just as ari comes back "sorry as I was saying, do you have any discomfort or you know still feel as her words trail off and I can't help but chuckle a little at it

"Depressed, no I don't feel anxious or depressed anymore as I tell her and I know even though it's been over a year since my incident I guess, she's still very worried and I was insanely happy and just completely content for almost a whole year, having had 5 months of very successful work with my music and a few TV show appearances plus Calvin Klein and then another three months of traveling the world with Ariana just to dwell in our honeymoon phase and spend some alone time together and it was at the very beginning of this year that things went downhill

At my, fairly big, 29th birthday party everyone was making all these speeches about how amazing my life has been, how I've never had a problem being myself and that's what made me so easy to love and so on ,all their words were kind and I appreciated them but u had already been struggling with personal feelings and at the time I was still packing and while it worked before it suddenly didn't feel like enough, I thought maybe I was thinking too much because it wasn't like I was uncomfortable being female, not entirely anyway, I never had a problem with my breasts, not that I'm blessed in that department anyway and I didn't have a problem with being addressed as a female, my genitals However is where I struggled the most

As I came to understand that was the problem, packing stopped working and I continued to do it, thinking I'd get over my feelings but it just bummed me out, in the beginning I didn't realize how much it'd affected me, everyone else saw the change in my behavior and general aura so to speak and eventually I'd notice too, it translated into my interactions with the people I love and into my work, I didn't feel good enough to do anything and so for a minute I stopped, fell into a bit of depression and that's when Ariana stepped in

My wife, being the incredible woman she is, hadn't stopped trying to help me, when I got depressed though, I stopped being as open with her about my feelings and, rightfully so, she was very worried so she suggested I go talk to someone else and I didn't at first but when I saw how my depression was affecting her I came to terms with what was wrong, I'd been suffering from gender dysphoria, a thing I didn't even know existed, my therapist explained the different levels of the condition, what it meant and didn't mean and the kind of help I could get for it and she suggested that I change my pronouns, a suggestion I turned down almost immediately

I didn't think it was a change I needed to make and after another long session with her I realized it was a change I was worried about making, I thought long and hard on the subject, taking some time to talk with my wife and even have a conversation with my siblings and best friend about it, in the end I decided to change my pronouns to they/them ,while that wasn't my biggest concern, with me being fairly fluid about my gender, I knew that changing them would help with the changes I later made, a very long adjustment period began for me and my family

Not just with my pronouns but also physically, I had many appointments with my gp and a team of doctors at a special clinic to get me started on hormone therapy and the moment I started taking hormones my number of appointments with my gp and therapist increased and being on hormones wasn't an everlasting decision, in fact I was only taking them to prepare me for my surgery and I knew I wasn't getting top surgery because, again, I don't have an issue with my breasts and at first I wasn't sure how to feel about getting bottom surgery, it's a permanent thing and involved more that I ever could've imagined, I was iffy about getting it because of how I'd be perceived in my community and hell I struggled with wether or not I even needed to have a penis

Once again though, my wife helped me see the light, laying in bed one night, talking about one of my sessions, she helped me to see past all my worries and what ifs, is reminding me that my happiness and comfort in my own body is what mattered more than anything, everything she said to me that night was completely true and it helped in the long run and when I made up my mind another, seemingly long as hell, period of time passed, I had to have consultations, speaking to people who asked me why having bottom surgery was important and how my having the surgery would help, not just me but my community and stuff, I didn't recall everything Ariana told me is how I got through that

In no time afterwards, I was onto the scheduling and prep for the surgery, the hormones had done exactly what they were supposed to so the surgery went smoothly and it took months to recover but I had majority of my family to help me, my friends didn't waste a second after I was cleared from bed rest to come see me, they brought all kinds of stuff, Bruno happily gifted me a pack of silk Versace underwear since it 'feels so damn good on ya John' as he'd put it(it definitely feels better than all my underwear) and the second my arm, where'd they'd taken the skin graft from, healed, I was at the tattoo parlor, I got the permanent scars covered

The tattoo came to mind at the thought of one of my favorite movies of all time: the lion king and it was a nod to my father and in the end I felt incredible, a new confidence took over me, an unbelievable amount of happiness, all because I finally had the body I wanted, everyone around me saw the difference too and my album came not too long afterwards, followed by the usual work that came with an album like music videos and interviews and then the tour which is almost done "are you happy says Ariana as she asks, a gentle tone Taking over "like truly happy says Ariana and I didn't even have to think about it "without question, I am truly happy, only thing that'll make me happier is seeing you again says mercedes

"Take your phone off your ear then says Ariana and humming a little, I pull the phone back to find that she switched the call to FaceTime, I smile immediately at the sight of her face, she smiles back and my heart fucking soars "hey there beautiful as I adjust the angle so she can see me properly "hey sexy says Ariana as her voice is a little teasing and I chuckle softly and I wink and she giggles "oh, let me tell you what my dumbass did this morning as she raises her eyebrows in curiosity while she puts her shoes on "so I had to pee right so I sat down on the toilet as she bursts into laughter before I even finish "girl, my tip hit that water and it was so damn cold I damn near jumped out the window says mercedes

She continues laughing, making me shake my head, it's funny as hell but that junk did not feel great, that toilet water was cold as fuck "awe sweetie as a slightly playful, sympathetic pout forms on her lips "I see you're still adjusting says Ariana and I nod, taking the last bite of my dessert "yeah I am, think I will be for a while but I'd rather be taking the time to adjust than still be- says mercedes "Depressed says Ariana and a snort of laugh leaves my lips as she repeats my words from earlier "well I'm glad you're in a good place, all I want is for you to be happy says Ariana seriously looking at me, the way her eyes bore into mine makes me feel like she's right here with me

"Well I am in a very good place, I'm completely me and I'm married to- as a long yawn cuts me off, the action pulling how tired I am to the foreground "to the most amazing woman in the world says mercedes and Ariana laughs again, not as hard as before but still genuine "happy and tired hm says Ariana and mercedes nods "then get some sleep baby ,I know you have a flight tomorrow says Ariana "a flight that's gonna bring me to you as I wink at her, a sleepy smile on my lips and blushing a little, Ariana bites her lip "sleep, so you can come home says Ariana "will do Mrs grande says mercedes "I love you says Ariana as she tells mercedes "I love you too goodnight says mercedes

We hang up and I plug my phone in, quickly getting up and taking my tray out to the hallway, coming back in and getting ready for bed, slipping under the covers, I go to sleep with a smile on my face, happy that I'll be home tomorrow

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the-amalgam-house · 2 years

Text

My wife brought up divorce yesterday because a woman she just met online not too long ago would only want to have children if she were legally married to the person.

Let me repeat for my own sake as well: My wife of 11 years asked if I would stay with her if we divorced so she could marry a 25 year old woman from another state that she met online for a long distance relationship probably like a month or two ago. Because babies.

I understand I'm not ideal. I'm not a woman, I can't work, I don't have sex. I'm disabled with so many chronic physical and mental illnesses it's severely impacted my ability to be a person at all. I understand being a burden on anyone who would have to care for me. I even would have been more open to talking about it as an option for trying to get me on disability so my medical needs could potentially be more stable. But to be told "I'm thinking about divorce because I want to marry someone else, but I still love you!" Is just.

She's polyamorous. I always stated that it's p much okay as long as she always comes back to me. I know that doesn't REQUIRE legal marriage...but I'm gonna be real that fucking hurts. For her to expect me to stay when she wants to leave for someone else. Maybe not physically leave, but she gets so enamored with these women who have never been there for her thus far and are just the current crush and tells me things that any other relationship would be like woah red flag!! I don't even care about her having sex with other ppl because I can't do it and she's hyper sexual so like yeah fine! Again, as long as she always came back to me.

But I guess I'm the fool for thinking I could ever attain lasting happiness? That someone would be unbreakingly bonded and loyal to someone who simply cannot contribute to life in a meaningful way. Too disabled to work too mentally fucked up to be a proper human being.

I don't want to deny her any opportunity to actually have the life she wanted. Neither of us asked for the illness and the stress. If she would rather have that marriage with kids, with an able bodied child bearing person, then that's what she wants. But I don't think she can really expect me to just stay mentally and romantically through that. It's one thing if she could marry another person while we're still married, but to just be casually thinking about divorcing me for that.

Idk. I feel extremely hurt and I don't know if I have the right to. I don't know that if I'm here like I'm okay with you dating other people but will become completely unstable if you try to marry them because it's not legal to marry several ppl and we're the ones who are married...feels selfish? Somehow?? I don't know what to do.

Edit: I was afraid to bring it up at all to her but I did anyway. She admits she doesn't think about just blurting out every thought she has to me, and apologized. Right in this moment, it doesn't make it any better. The fact is she thought about the idea of divorcing me specifically to marry this woman and then came over to snuggle with me and then tell me that thought process out loud and why. I want to be able to work past this, but to me this is a huge fucking deal.

If I had any real amount of disposable money rn I'd run away to my Mami for a little while tbh. I need to be away from here.

Second Edit:

Calmed down a lot. Kanon kept messaging, assuring me again and again that she didn't word it right and trying to clear up that it's that she really would rather be able to be married to multiple people and that she loves me no matter what some government paper says, but like it's not really so much about that I guess? It's that we built this whole life after marriage and struggle and illness and doing the best to ignore ppl who want us divorced for way more malicious and ignorant reasons and then saying "I will never divorce you" turns into "maybe we can little a divorce, as a treat"

If marriage or a license or court record or whatever doesn't matter, would it but then be a thing of compromising that with the NEW interest and not the already committed life partner? And if the new interest DOESN'T want to change their stance then like...I guess just don't have bio kids then? We can't afford them and bringing new lives into the world just cause one can is irresponsible anyway. Plus they aren't even dating they're just talking anyway.

So I guess it's got me more disgruntled now than outright freak out crying. I'm still upset about it and doing think that's going to go away any time soon, cause it's fucked up.

#toby talk

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

Text

Alexander rolled his eyes. “I knew there must be something more important than me.” He said in an equally joking tone, before kissing Rena on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon. One week from your birthday, don’t forget.”

Rena smiled, walking her brother to the door. “I won’t.”

“I waited all that day at the gate for him. I kept watching long after everyone else had given up hope. He had promised to return, so I believed he would. For the next three years, I always spent that day exactly one week after my birthday at the gate. Eventually, I accepted that he wasn’t coming back. My father died three years ago, and I took my first position as governess at seventeen for a family ten miles away. My other sister had married, and while the house had been left to me, we had lost much of our money over the previous five years, making it impossible to keep up. So I sold it, and began making my own living.” Rena finished her story, feeling empty after telling all this to Sebastian. He had taken up Ciel’s evening snack, and was now kneading more dough, this time for bread.

He had listened quietly, and while Rena suspected any sympathy was fake, it was surprisingly nice to have someone simply listen to her. She had not opened up fully about her brother in years, and while she had told a few people about the basics of his disappearance -- including Ciel and Sebastian, as a matter of fact -- she had not explained her full relationship with him to anyone who had not known them.

Now, Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “So you do not know where your brother was going, or where he is now?”

Rena shook her head. “No,” she said quietly, standing up. “I dearly wish I did. If you’ll excuse me, I believe I will retire for the night.” Sebastian simply nodded, and Rena walked up the stairs to her room. Quickly preparing for bed, she slipped between the sheets. She fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of her brother, his disappearance, and the twisting shadows on the wall.

Alexander’s disappearance would be six years the day after tomorrow — something she had neglected to mention to Sebastian.

It was unlikely Alexander would find her here, anyways.

Notes:

Common Sense Tip, Ignored:

…I feel like this is self-explanatory. Don’t make the creepy butler (who you know has a totally different loyalty) your confidante.

Today was an original storyline thing for character background and bridging purposes. I’ve decided to go with the manga timeline, with the occasional short anime storyline blended in. :)

Chapter 13: Play by Hand

Notes:

play by hand — chess term: an idiomatic expression meaning to make a move without analyzing the move.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rena glanced at the calendar. It was the 12th of December. She had been here for nearly four months. She smiled wryly. It would only be another four months until the Campania sunk. Rena was struck by the short time span that she was truly aware of. Only about a year of Ciel’s life. She would have to make some sort of plan for beyond that point. Why bother? She thought. I’m only a governess anyways. I will be one then as well.

For some reason, that thought discouraged her. She had never managed to figure out why she had been dumped here, of all places. Perhaps it was some sort of cosmic joke on her, that all her education would lead to her lying and scheming simply to live, while disguised as an upper-class schoolmarm. I don’t even like kids. Rena grimaced into the mirror at her perfectly done hair and neatly pressed clothing. Another day begins, she sighed to herself. Stepping out of her room, she nearly ran into Sebastian. “Excuse me, Mr. Michaelis.” She said.

Even pushing a tea cart, Sebastian managed to bow politely. “Good morning, Miss Remington . I trust you slept well?”

Rena nodded, and Sebastian continued on towards Ciel’s room. Ever since she had told him about Alexander, he had been especially polite towards her. She wasn’t sure what that meant, or how she felt about it. She almost preferred the days when he would pin her against a wall, trying to intimidate her. Almost preferred it. At least then she had known what their relationship was and where they stood. Continuing on, Rena stepped into the kitchen for a cup of tea. The servants were there, in various states of unconsciousness. Baldroy was dozing, head down on the table, while Mey-Rin was drooping slightly, playing with a daisy. Only Tanaka looked fully awake, but then, he always looked approximately the same. Pouring herself a cup of tea, Rena sat down at the table. “Good morning,” she said cheerily. “How is everyone?”

She didn’t get much more than a quiet, “ho, ho, ho” from Tanaka and a mumble of, “too early” from Baldroy before Finny burst into the room.

“Hey! Listen everyone!” he shouted. “We have a problem!”

Rena looked at him curiously and Mey-Rin finally piped up. “What’s the matter?” She asked.

Finny looked exasperated, and Rena racked her brain for what she was missing. It was probably in her memory journal, but she couldn’t recall it at the moment. “Seriously, did everyone forget?! It’s a very special day!” He pointed at the calendar behind Tanaka, and a lightbulb went off in Rena’s brain. Marchioness Frances Middleford was visiting today, with Elizabeth. She jumped up.

“I have a feeling that I’ll be required out front quite soon,” she announced. “I would recommend you all get to work.” Rena, knowing full well disaster would occur with all the others, nearly ran towards the foyer to avoid her own misfortune, only slowing down as she entered the room. Ciel and Sebastian were coming down the stairs, Ciel looking ruffled and harried, with Sebastian looking somewhat calmer, but still rushed. Rena smiled at them. “I see you also forgot about the Marchioness’s visit.”

Sebastian did not respond, but Ciel huffed. “She isn’t supposed to arrive until this afternoon, but this is Aunt Frances.”

Rena laughed slightly. “I must admit, I am looking forward to meeting the Marchioness. She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

Sebastian smirked as Ciel muttered something under his breath. A carriage was rumbling up the lane, and Rena mentally prepared herself. Frances Midford was a force of nature. As she left the carriage, Ciel greeted her. “It has been a while, Marchioness. You’ve arrived earlier than expected…”

Frances cut him off. “Spare me the formalities. You look as if you’ve just risen, Earl Phantomhive. Who is this next to you?” She turned to Rena.

Rena curtsied. “I am his governess, Miss Theresa Remington, Marchioness.”

Frances made a small “hmm” before rounding on Elizabeth, who had flung herself at Ciel. “Do not behave so rudely…” She berated Elizabeth, who practically melted onto the ground in shame. Rena caught Sebastian attempting to subtly slip out of the Marchioness’s line of sight, but she turned on him next, combing his floppy hair back as Ciel rejoiced in his freedom, only to have his hair also forcibly flattened.

Rena noted that she had so far been the only one to avoid the Marchioness’s discipline. She wondered if that was her rank, or that she has somehow passed inspection.

She rather suspected it was the former.

However, the group was now moving back towards the house. Rena, feeling no need to watch the horrors that Sebastian would be forced to divert from, decided to simply slip away to the stables. She could, at least, make sure those were clean, as the group would eventually end up there, if her memory served.

Arriving out at the stables, she found them relatively tidy. Checking each stall individually, Rena hiked up her skirts — stupid things, she thought — and made sure the water and hay were clean in each. After refilling two buckets and tossing fresh hay into three holders, she let down her skirts and got a brush, seeing that her own horse was looking slightly dull. The party came in a couple minutes later.

“We sent for it to serve as our master’s steed.” Sebastian was saying, and Rena poked her head out to watch. Frances Midford seemed pleased as well.

“A fine horse, indeed. The hip is sturdy, and it looks well.” She spun around suddenly. “What think you, Miss Remington?”

Rena froze momentarily. She had no idea that the Marchioness had even seen her. “I… I think it an excellent horse as well, Marchioness. It is well-bred.”

Frances stalked over to Rena, who was still holding a brush against her horse. “Hmm. And this…” She ran a hand over the shoulder and down the leg. “Sturdy, but still delicate. Appears healthy. Three or four years old…” She looked at Rena. “This is a gentlewoman’s horse. Is it yours?”

Rena only nodded, and Frances gave her a piercing stare. “Hmm.” She turned back to Ciel, and appraised him. “I have it. What say we do a little hunting together?” She walked back over without so much as a glance at Rena, for which she was grateful. The Marchioness was far too sharp for her comfort. She had not anticipated that.

Thankfully, it appeared Frances Midford considered her beneath her rank, as most others did. The party left, and Rena breathed freely again. They were going hunting, and Rena understood herself to not be invited. Besides, she thought, Sebastian will take care of the bear. She finished grooming her horse — who looked much better now — and dusted herself off before returning to the house.

She was immediately accosted by Mei-Rin.

“Miss Rena! We’re going to decorate for the Masters birthday, yes!”

Rena smiled. “I sense a request for my help.”

Mei-Rin nodded. “Sebastian let us know that we had about four hours. With the five of us, we should be able to get everything done. Finny is decorating with roses, Bard is cooking, I’m setting the table, and Tanaka —“

Rena interrupted. “What would you like me to do?”

Mei-Rin set Rena to making sure the vases and dishes were clean, a task Rena was grateful for. Knowing the servants, there would be little she could do to make the dining room presentable or keep them from injuring themselves, and she would prefer to not be caught in the middle of it. So, as small explosions and other sounds of questionable safety emanated from the dining room, Rena quietly played chess in her head.

She should have anticipated Frances Midford’s sharp mind. The only thing she could do now is hope her normal stories and her interest in fencing would serve to allay any suspicions. As the four hours ran down, she slipped into the dining room. Sure enough, it was a mess, however, only Tanaka was there. Rena nodded cordially at him and began to straighten up flowers and plates. It was less horrifying than Rena had expected, however, it needed a delicate touch. As she was straightening up a vase, she heard a voice behind her.

“Miss Remington.”

Rena smiled and turned around, coming face to face with a full-size Tanaka.

“Mister Tanaka. What a surprise.”

He chuckled. “Indeed. I’ve been meaning to speak with you for some time.” He took a seat, and motioned for Rena to sit as well. Once she did, he spoke again.

“I feel that you know more about this house and its inhabitants than you let on.”

Rena thought quickly. Of all the people in this house, Tanaka was possibly the most trustworthy, and it was unlikely that he would speak ill of her if he sensed no danger. So she inclined her head in assent, and waited for him to speak again.

“Yet I do not feel that you mean us harm. I am curious, however, where exactly you come from,” Tanaka held up a hand as Rena opened her mouth to speak, “And I do not wish for you to tell me the same thing you have told the others. There is something else about you, Miss Remington. I do not believe you are from here. Perhaps another world?”

Rena could do nothing but open and close her mouth repeatedly. When she finally managed to speak, she had dropped every upper-class mannerism she had adopted.

“Oh geez.” She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Tanaka chuckled.

“As I said, I do not sense any ill intentions. Perhaps you would like to tell me your real name?”

Rena rubbed her forehead. “Rena Snyder. And yes, that is my full name.”

Tanaka nodded. “So the name you gave the others…?”

“My grandmother’s.”

“And your real occupation?”

“I worked in a clothing shop and a coffee stand.”

“How did you come by your impressive knowledge?”

“I went to college.”

Tanaka nodded again. “Now you are telling the truth.”

Rena chuckled ruefully. “When did you figure it out?”

Tanaka smiled. “When you sat down with me to tea. I heard more behind your voice than what you spoke. It was too perfect for the truth. Ciel has not lived long enough to hear it, and the demon may suspect, but he keeps his own thoughts to himself until it benefits him to speak them.”

Rena glanced up. “You know what he is?” Rena had suspected that Tanaka knew, but here was confirmation.

Tanaka sighed. “Yes, I do. I occasionally regret not making my concerns known. However, I have learned something in my years, and that is that sometimes, people do not want to be saved from their folly… oh, dear.”

Rena jumped up. “What’s the matter?”

Tanaka shook his head. “I appear to be running out of time. But do know that your secret is safe with me.” He touched Rena’s wrist and locked eyes with her. “Do be careful, but keep an eye on Ciel. Perhaps you can succeed where I have failed.” With that, he shrunk back to mini Tanaka, and gave a soft “ho, ho, ho.” He picked up his teacup, and began sipping at it once more.

Rena nodded. “I’ll do my best.” She said softly, receiving another “ho, ho, ho” in response.

A few moments later, the dining room had been straightened to a presentable state, and the other servants trooped back in a few seconds later, in tatters and covered in bandages. Rena shook her head, slipping back into her high-class governess mode. “Perhaps I should have been supervising you this afternoon.”

Bard grinned. “Ah, it’s not that bad. A few scrapes and bruises, that’s all.”

Rena poked Bard’s bandaged right arm, causing him to wince. “Scrapes and bruises?” She raised her eyebrow.

Bard rubbed the back of his head with his undamaged hand. “Might have been some burns too.” He grumbled.

Rena grinned, but straightened her face almost immediately when she heard Sebastian’s voice. “They’re back.” She slipped into the back of the room, letting the other servants greet Ciel with their typical exuberance. Rena watched as the Marchioness wished Ciel a happy birthday, tease Sebastian about the destroyed rooms, and be drawn into the happy group as Sebastian slipped away to the kitchen. Glancing between the two — and remembering Tanaka’s words from only a short while before — she followed Sebastian, reaching the kitchen as he pulled out a cake he had baked earlier in the day. She spoke up.

“It would be a shame to let that go to waste.”

Sebastian turned around. “Miss Remington. Why are you not enjoying the festivities upstairs?”

Rena smiled. “It is a little… loud for my tastes. Besides, I don’t trust Bard’s cooking.”

Sebastian chuckled, but did not respond. He handed a slice of the cake to Rena, along with a fork. Rena dug in, but stopped when she noticed Sebastian staring out the window, one glove off and licking what appeared to be frosting off of his fingers. “So, our butler isn’t quite as above it all as he’d like us to think.” Rena gently teased, even as she kicked herself mentally. Sure, tease the one person who can kill you with a thought. Yeah, great plan, Rena.

Sebastian hummed. “I was simply wondering how you and the young master find this delicious.”

Don’t tip your hand. “Is it not to your taste?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Very little is.”

Rena nodded. “That must be miserable.”

Sebastian turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “It can be. I must ask, Miss Remington, why you seem to be seeking out my company more often these days. As I recall, you and I have never been friends.”

Rena forced her voice to remain calm. “Perhaps I have found that we have more in common than I first thought.”

Suddenly, Sebastian was looming over her, in a manner very similar to that of some of their first interactions. “And what would those similarities be?”

Rena gave an involuntary shudder, immediately regretting her desire for the simplicity of their formerly antagonistic relationship. “We both wish for the well-being of the Earl. We are both chess pieces in his game. And we have both signed contracts with him for our own reasons.” What are you doing? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Rena kicked herself mentally, tensing up, even though she knew running would be impossible.

Sebastian backed off ever so slightly, but smirked. “An interesting choice of words, Miss Remington.”

“Indeed? I was merely speaking of our employments under the Earl.” Rena responded quickly, hoping against hope she had not made a fatal error.

Sebastian, thankfully, did not seem to be interested in killing her at the moment. “Indeed.” He returned to the window. “It is snowing.” He commented. “I would go enjoy it with the others.”

Rena recognized a request for solitude, which she was more than happy to give. Walking quickly towards the door, she was about to leave when Sebastian spoke again.

“If you are concerned about me, please do not trouble yourself. I am quite content.”

The two met eyes and Rena regarded him for a moment.

“If I was concerned, I would not be here.” Rena left then, leaving a confused Sebastian in the kitchen. She walked back to the dining room, composing herself along the way so that nobody would notice anything off. If she lived through the next few months… she would be finding a way out of the Phantomhive manor as soon as possible.

Notes:

Common Sense Tip of the Day, 100% ignored:

Don’t play word games with the master of word games. You are not as clever as them. It will not end well.

Chapter 14: Plan

Notes:

plan -- chess term: A strategy employed in a specific position to optimize a player's advantages while minimizing the impact of positional disadvantages.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rena sipped at her tea as snow fell outside the back window. The Undertaker was sitting a few feet away, his feet up on an extra coffin, hugging an urn and munching on two or three of the biscuits stored in it. Rena had let her hair out of its normal style to allow it to dry after walking through the snow an hour or so before, and the two were sitting in a companionable silence at the moment, having just finished a conversation about an unusual guest the Undertaker had fixed up recently. The Undertaker broke the silence first.

“So, m’dear… what brings the Earl to town at this time of the year?”

Rena shrugged and leaned over to steal one of the Undertaker’s biscuits, which he gave up with a giggle. “Why would I know? I am merely his governess, after all.”

“Now, dearie~” The Undertaker teased. “We both know that’s not true.”

Rena smirked, biting into the crispy dog treat. “Perhaps~” She responded in the same tone before returning to normal. “However, I do happen to know in this case. You may have heard of the men hung upside down outside of cafes around London?”

The Undertaker nodded sagely. “Ah~ Interesting. Indeed, there was one only a few blocks from here attacked last night.”

Rena hummed softly. “I suspect that’s where the Earl is, then. He mentioned something about heading out this morning to investigate a new scene.”

“Then why are you not with him~?”

“It’s my day off, remember?”

The Undertaker giggled. “I’m impressed he hasn’t renegotiated that deal~”

Rena shrugged. “I’m sure he’s thought about it. However, he does want to keep me around, so he allows me this.” As she spoke, Rena began to run her fingers through her long hair, removing some tangles that had formed. It had taken several months to get used to the length, but she had become accustomed to taking care of it. Styling it in anything other than a simple bun was still difficult, but her position rarely called for more than that. As she combed through her hair, the Undertaker sat up a bit and set his urn of biscuits to the side, moving over to her side. As her fingers got caught on a particularly bad knot, his hands wrapped around hers and removed them from her hair. Blushing slightly, Rena allowed him to take over, enjoying the feeling of his hands untangling and styling her hair.

Rena continued speaking as he worked, trying to think through what she remembered of this arc beyond the appearance of Agni and Soma. “This case is interesting, though. Apparently, the perpetrator has been leaving notes. Scotland Yard thinks it’s a taunt against the Queen, but I don’t think so.” A hum from the Undertaker was all the response she got, and she kept going. “They’re saying it’s one of the Indians. Have you heard anything?” Rena tilted her head back to look at the Undertaker. His hands stopped working for a moment as he thought.

“I don’t think it’s any of the normal residents. I heard of a pair of Indians who’ve come to the area recently. Might check them first.” His voice was less scratchy and more of the deep, pleasant tone that Rena had only heard on a couple of occasions. She hummed in thanks, before relaxing as the Undertaker kept working on her hair. A few moments later, she spoke up again, feeling encouraged by how relaxed the Undertaker seemed at the moment.

“Undertaker… can I ask you a question?”

His fingers didn’t stop this time. “Perhaps~” He said, echoing her words from earlier, but still with the relaxed tone. “What do you want to know?”

“What’s your name?” The Undertaker froze, and Rena immediately regretted asking. “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to —”

“I don’t remember.” He admitted, cutting her off. “I’ve been called the Undertaker for as long as I can recall.”

Rena turned to look at him. “That seems sad.”

He shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

“But still, to not know your own name…”

“You changed yours too.” He pointed out, causing Rena to stare blankly at him. “It’s not like I was named the Undertaker from the start.~ It’s just been so long since that it’s become my name.”

Rena stuttered. “H-How did you know I changed my name?”

A soft chuckle as the Undertaker turned her head to finish with her hair. “You were still hesitating slightly on the full name when you first introduced yourself to me. You were only natural when you asked me to call you Rena. Care to share why?”

Rena sighed. “First Tanaka, now you. I thought I was smarter than this.”

Undertaker giggled. “Tanaka is exceptionally observant. I’d have been more surprised if he didn’t know. Now, if the butler finds out…” He trailed off.

Rena sighed. “I’m sure he already knows. I may have… been somewhat foolish.”

The Undertaker’s hands went to her shoulders and he came around in front of her, bending down to look directly into her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Tried to be friends with him.” Rena admitted, turning her eyes away from the hidden gaze.

The grip on her shoulders tightened. “Has he told the Earl?”

Rena shook her head. “I don’t believe so. I think he’s biding his time. He warned me off, so I’m keeping my distance.”

The Undertaker relaxed slightly, but he sighed and touched his forehead to Rena’s. “Don’t be scaring me like that~. I’d miss our Sunday tea together~”

Rena smiled slightly as she closed her eyes. “So would I.” She whispered, not willing to be the first to move away. Over the past several months, she had realized that she quite liked the Undertaker. She was fully aware that he was probably at least partially insane, and would probably kill her as soon as save her, but she was coming to rely on her Sundays with him. When he was out at a funeral or for some other reason, leaving his shop locked, she always found herself deeply disappointed.

The two stayed there for a few moments until the Undertaker backed away suddenly. “I ha~te to cut our visit short, but I have a customer~!” The manic grin was back, and he giggled. “You can go out the back~. It wouldn’t do for anyone to know you were here, after all~” He swayed away towards the front of the shop, waving over his shoulder. Rena shook her head in disbelief at the flip in behavior, and disappointment over the relatively short visit. She gathered her coat and hat, and went out the back door.

As she walked, she became lost in thought, and nearly ran into a pair of strangers. “I am sorry.” She said, curtseying. “I should…” She trailed off as she looked up and saw exactly who they were.

The shorter one held out his hand to her. “It is entirely our fault. Your English streets are confusing. Say, have you seen someone who looks like this?” A piece of paper was held out to Rena, and she looked at it, maintaining a straight face with some difficulty.

“I am afraid not.” She replied.

“Oh. Well, thank you. Excuse us.” Both bowed to her, then continued on their way.

Rena turned to watch them go. She hadn’t gotten a good look at either of them, which she was annoyed about. It would be later that evening before she would be able to read either of them, unless…

Rena heard a commotion a few blocks away. Suspecting — but not entirely certain — what it was, she hurried over there, hiding in an alleyway.

Sure enough, she could see Sebastian and Ciel at the center of a group of Indians, who were all shouting various insults. Smirking, she leaned back against the wall. She had no reason to get involved, and she was certain it would change things drastically should she do so.

Two people walked out of an alley across from her, and the shorter one held up a piece of paper. Rena chuckled. Sure enough, Agni and Soma had looped around as well. An interesting duo. Rena studied the two, even though it was difficult to read them from this far away. Soma had little to offer her, but Agni’s face was more interesting. Rena felt a tug at her heart as she remembered his future, but ignored that for the more important, in-the-moment details. The resulting misunderstanding and confrontation only took a few moments, but Rena found every one enjoyable. A chance to see Agni’s hand in action interested Rena greatly. If she wished to survive in the short term, Agni may be useful. He was a match for Sebastian at most times, and he was warm-hearted. He’d be likely to protect her if it came down to it, even though his first priority was, of course, Soma.

As the two strolled away and Ciel and Sebastian were left standing in the middle of the road with a pile of unconscious figures and a suddenly appearing Lau, Rena turned and walked away. Her interest in this scene was over. She should go home and prepare some lessons for Ciel, and make sure the others weren’t burning down the townhouse.

Rena walked into the townhouse a half-hour later, hanging up her coat and hat on the nearby rack. She listened carefully for the sounds of disaster, but heard none. Nodding in satisfaction, she walked up to her room here in the townhouse. It was quite different from the one at the manor, but in a good way. Whereas the other was dark and ancient in many ways, this one was lighter and more airy, with warmer tones. Rena appreciated the change, though it seemed often at odds with her moods in the evenings. Rena had taken to writing in a diary as well as her timeline journal. As each day passed, she found it increasingly difficult to remember things she had known a month ago about who she really was and what she wanted to do, so she had begun the little black diary to remember her old life and what she had lied about that day. Rena locked her door and pulled both of these books out from the hidden panel in her wardrobe that she had found on her first night here, as well as Ciel’s schoolbooks.

Flipping through the textbooks, she refreshed her memory on 16th century history and literature. It was sort of nice to be using her major again, but this had thrown into sharp focus exactly why Rena had rejected teaching as a career. Grading homework, preparing the next day’s lessons… she had given herself the position of governess as a convenient one that she was qualified for, but she certainly didn’t enjoy it. As she reviewed the science of this era, she found her mind wandering. Propping her chin on her hand, she tapped her quill on the desk thoughtfully. It was the beginning of 1889. The Campania was only four months away. The circus was only a little over two. Rena blanched when she thought of the children from the circus, but recovered quickly. No use worrying about the future at the moment.

Rena began scribbling again, hoping to finish the lessons before Ciel arrived back. It was quite likely that he would request her presence as soon as he arrived. She had just finished writing when she heard the door close and the servants all clatter to greet Ciel. Rena sighed and grabbed her notebook once more to check the order of events for the evening, flipping through it as quickly as possible. Not much of note, besides Agni taking over the kitchen. Rena stuffed her two personal books back into the wardrobe as she heard the door close a second time. Straightening her dress, she straightened up and began walking calmly towards the entryway. As she walked, she nearly ran into Agni. He bowed.

“My apologies. I am looking for a bed for my prince.”

Rena smiled and pointed. “There’s one in that room.”

Agni started to bow again, then stood up straight. “You are the lady my prince and I nearly ran into earlier today!” He exclaimed, and Rena held a finger to her lips.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t mention that to the Earl. If you would kindly ask the prince to refrain from doing so as well, I would be grateful.”

Agni, to his credit, did not question this somewhat strange request, instead nodding and hurrying back to Soma to inform him that he had found a bed for him to relax on. Rena chuckled and followed after him, nearly being mowed down by the rest of the servants. As Ciel and Sebastian rounded the corner, she put on a perfectly surprised expression. “Who are our guests?”

Ciel didn’t respond, being too flustered by the sudden appearance of Soma and Agni. Sebastian, however, slowed down long enough to speak. “Just two people we met today while we were out. Don’t be concerned.”

Rena nodded, pretending to be convinced. “Very well.” Rena began to walk away, as Sebastian ran to catch up with Ciel. Rena considered going to talk with Soma, but reasoned that she wouldn’t get anywhere with all the others around, and it was unlikely Agni had told Soma not to say anything about her yet. It was safer to stay away — and besides, she didn’t want to be in the same room with Sebastian at the moment.

Still, Rena knew the next few days would be rather entertaining with this new addition to the board.

Notes:

Common Sense Tip, Maybe Taken?:

Do attempt to make friends with perhaps the one relatively moral person in the whole. entire. world. They’re the person least likely to murder you unexpectedly. Which, if you’re going to be an IDIOT, is a good thing.

I read chapter 127 a few days ago and I’m still sad. :(

Chapter 15: Building a Bridge

Notes:

building a bridge -- chess term: Making a path for a king in the endgame by providing protective cover against checks from line-pieces. A well-known example is the Lucena position.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rena sat in her room, chuckling to herself as chaos reigned down below. Agni and Soma had only arrived the evening before, and yet Agni had managed to integrate himself fully. Indeed, that morning Rena had woken up to light streaming into her room through suddenly opened curtains, and the smiling face of Agni.

“Good morning, my lady. I have been made aware that you must wake up far earlier than the rest of the family. I have brought your morning tea, which I was also informed you drink before breakfast. I have used a Masala chai blend from India, I hope you are satisfied.” Agni bowed slightly, and Rena smiled in return.

“Thank you, Agni. You should not have troubled yourself. However, I must inform you, I am not a lady, I am merely a governess.”

Agni bowed again. “Very well, Miss Theresa.”

Rena chuckled. “Please, call me Rena.”

Agni nodded with another smile, and moved to leave the room. Rena held up a hand.

"Do stay for a moment, Agni. I wish to speak with you.” Rena dropped the smile she had been wearing as Agni came closer once again. Rena motioned to a chair nearby, and Agni sat. Rena took a deep breath, deciding to take a calculated risk. “As I have said, I am the Earl’s governess. However, there are a few things I would like to say now, so that you do not hear of them second-hand or under less than ideal circumstances. I would like there to be as few secrets between us as possible. However, I must ask you two questions before I begin. Have you told the Prince not to speak of our meeting on the street, and are you capable of keeping what I am about to tell you a complete secret from everyone, even the Prince?”

Agni regarded her seriously. “I have told the Prince of your wish for secrecy. I must admit, he did not understand at first, but he promised, and once he makes a promise, he will not break it. As for myself, unless what you tell me endangers my Prince in any way, you have my silence.”

Rena nodded. “Thank you, on both counts. The first thing I must say is more or less harmless. I have every Sunday off, and while the household remains in ignorance of where I go, I choose to visit a local mortician who goes by the name of Undertaker. The visits are purely social in nature, as we have become friends during my time with the Phantomhive household. I tell you this because I may disappear someday, and if so, you will perhaps find me there, whether dead or alive, I do not know.”

Agni nodded solemnly, and Rena continued. “The second is that I have the ability to read other’s intentions, feelings, and moods by looking into their eyes. I have had this ability ever… ever since my brother disappeared six years ago. I tell you this because I do not wish for you to feel betrayed should I be asked to use it on either you or the Prince, as it disturbs some people that I have this ability. I cannot read your exact thoughts, only your emotions and intentions.”

Agni nodded again. “We are given many gifts, Miss Rena. I assure you, I am not surprised that you are able to do such a thing.”

Rena smiled slightly in thanks, before taking another deep breath, steeling herself for the last item on her list. “I must admit, I am taking a great risk in saying this, and I would not do so unless I felt it to be absolutely necessary. What I must say is that while the others believe me to be a mere governess, I am far more than that. I have crafted a life for myself in this world, but…” Rena released her remaining breath in a rush, setting her teeth. “This world is not my own.”

Agni’s eyes widened, and Rena held up a hand. “Allow me to explain. This may seem strange, but please, allow me to finish before you pass any judgement on me.” Rena spoke quietly and quickly, giving Agni the short version of her story, leaving out the fact that she knew everyone’s future and fates. She told him of her true family, and the one she had crafted here. She told him about the way she had found herself entering this world, finishing her story with her arrival in the Phantomhive household.

“I would not have told you this, except for the fact that I daily fear for my life and well-being. There may come a day when I need to flee the household for the sake of my life. I cannot be part of the Earl’s game forever, and indeed, it is doubtful he would allow me to be so should he learn of what and who I am. Should that day come, I will need friends who know of my true past to help me. I hope I can count you among those friends, and the Prince as well, though he must not know any of what I have just told you, for his own safety.” Rena felt her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited Agni’s response. Please tell me I didn’t just royally screw up, Rena thought, beginning to panic.

Agni finally spoke, his tone calm and reassuring. “I cannot explain to you nor tell you what your purpose in this world is. I can tell you that no word of what you have told me will pass my lips without your permission. I have only known you for a few hours, Miss Rena, and yet you strike me as a person who wishes only the best for others while carrying your own pain deep within your heart. I assure you, should your fears come to pass, you will always be welcomed by me, and I suspect the Prince as well.”

Rena gave a soft smile. “I thank you once more. Many events have occurred lately that have forced me to think of these things more seriously. But let us talk no more of this. I am sure you have other things to attend to.”

Agni smiled back. “It is no trouble. I appreciate your confidence in me. Breakfast will be ready in an hour or two.” He bowed and left, leaving Rena alone with her diary, journal, and lessons to prepare.

Now, as Ciel’s childlike shouts of disapproval and annoyance mixed with the three servant’s shock. Rena’s chuckles intensified into a true laugh as she leaned back and imagined the frustration Sebastian was feeling at this moment. After their chat a couple weeks before, her opinion and treatment of the knight (and in return, his treatment of her) had returned to something much closer to what they had originally had upon her arrival. She treated him as live coals once more, and he treated her as a distantly possible threat to the household — one that wasn’t worth mentioning to Ciel at the moment, but something to keep an eye on.

As a result, Rena was attempting to fade back into the woodwork, having toed the line between subtle and stupid for far too long. It was time to lean back and see where the board lay, before planning her next moves for survival. Agni had been a risk, but it appeared to have been a worthwhile one. However, only time could tell whether it ended in success or failure.

Still shaking with laughter, Rena bent back over her journal. Skimming through it, she refreshed her memory on the next few days before turning to her diary. Tickling her chin with the end of the quill, she thought about what to write for her morning entry. Glancing at the small calendar on her wall, she thought about what would be happening back home.

Rena sighed and let her head drop back against the top of her chair as she allowed thoughts to drift around in her head like clouds. How long had it been since she’d spoken to her parents? Alexander had disappeared when she was eighteen — even though she’d told Sebastian she had been fifteen — and she was now twenty-four. Her birthday, which had been just over two months ago, had gone relatively uncelebrated. The Undertaker had given her a set of pink hair-ribbons when she’d visited him the next week, though Rena couldn’t quite remember when she’d told him when her birthday had been. She’d probably let it slip at some point, another small, harmless fact to cement her life here. Ah, birthdays, right, Rena thought as she pulled her head back up and dipped her quill in her ink.

Dear Alexander,

It’s Mom’s birthday soon. I saw a set of wine glasses in a shop the other day that I thought she might like, but I didn’t have enough money to buy them. I saw a pocket-watch Dad would have liked in another shop. And for you, I saw a full set of the ninth-edition Encyclopedia Britannica. I wished I could buy everything for you all, then perhaps I could pretend I was coming home soon. Not that Mom or Dad are particularly interested in seeing me, but maybe you’d be home too. I know that you’re often away for longer than you anticipate, but six years is a little excessive, dear brother. Please, finish up whatever business you have and return safely. You were always Mom’s favorite, and she misses you dearly. Dad too, though he doesn’t show it as much.

As for me, today will be another full day with lessons and business meetings to assist with. I dare say I will go insane one of these days, being shoved here and there and set in a corner to look pretty, despite the fact that none of this falls under the umbrella of a governess!

As ever, your loving sister,

Rena.

As Rena signed her name, a knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. Rena hurriedly put her quill down, shutting her diary at the same time and slipping her journal under it, pulling both onto her lap with her hands wrapped around them. A split second later, the door opened, and Sebastian poked his head into the room.

“I am here to inform you that breakfast is ready, Miss Remington. In addition, other than Greek, I will be instructing the young master today, if that is acceptable to you.”

Rena nodded. “Thank you, Sebastian. I will be down shortly.” Despite her instincts telling her to grip her journal and diary tighter, she forced herself to remain relaxed, casual. Sebastian, thankfully, appeared slightly distracted by a fresh batch of crashes from downstairs, and simply bowed quickly before hurrying off to make sure chaos didn’t erupt any further than it already had. Rena hid her diary and journal, making sure they were out of the reach and sight of any curious servants, Earls, Princes, or butlers. Slipping out of her room and making sure the door was shut, she started making her way towards the dining room.

Upon arrival, she saw Soma and Lau already seated. Ciel was missing from his place at the head of the table, and there was an empty chair between Soma and Lau. Rena seated herself, and Agni stepped forwards to assist her. She nodded her thanks, and Agni returned to his master’s side. Soma regarded Rena with an air of curiosity.

“I am told by Agni you are the governess of this household.” Soma stated.

Rena looked at him. He was young, certainly, and Rena knew he acted far younger, but she also knew that he had a kind, caring spirit, even if it was currently buried under layers of privilege and spoiling by those around him. Taking a careful look into his eyes — as she had no wish to appear rude at this stage — she saw curiosity, certainly, but also a certain measure of suspicion, something that surprised Rena. Actually, I should have expected that, since he saw me yesterday and I asked Agni to tell him not to say anything, she thought. However, she also saw a faith to his promise not to speak on the matter.

“I am.” She responded neutrally. “I teach the Earl in exchange for room and board, with a small monthly salary. It has proven far more convenient for him than multiple tutors who must commute from their own homes to his.”

Soma nodded. “Perhaps while I am here, you will show me some of the things you teach.”

Rena recognized Soma’s request for what it was — a statement, not a question, and she responded in kind. “If it does not interfere with the Earl’s studies, then I would be honored.”

Soma turned away from Rena then, and she knew the conversation was at a close. Ciel entered the room then, Sebastian at his heels.

Breakfast passed relatively uneventfully, and Rena excused herself to collect her lesson materials for the day. Somehow, she suspected most of the lessons would go undone with Soma’s presence, but that did not particularly bother her. She returned to Agni telling the story of Kali and Shiva.

“…That is why she holds the severed head of the devil.” Agni drew a breath, and Rena spoke up quietly.

“A fine story. In the end, one can hardly blame her for her actions, when she was created from war.”

Agni turned to look at her. “You are familiar with our faith?”

Rena smiled slightly. “I read many books as a child, and my father and brother traveled much. My brother told me stories that came from all the places they went.”

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “I should be careful if I go to India.” He mused, which earned him a curious look from Agni, but no comment. Soma stood up then. “Well, we’re done praying…” With a speed that surprised Rena (considering that he was human), Soma grabbed Ciel. Rena forced back a smile at Ciel’s shocked expression, replacing it with concern, or what she hoped looked like concern.

“I must protest —-” Rena began, only to be cut off by Ciel’s annoyed shouts and Sebastian’s calm interference.

“Forgive me, but the young master has a full schedule with his studies and work today.”

Soma dropped Ciel, who quickly moved back to Sebastian’s side, causing Rena’s lips to twitch in spite of herself. Soma looked mildly disappointed as Ciel attempted to dismiss him, and Rena moved to a desk at the far end of the room, intent on reworking her lesson schedule for the week. However, as the minutes and hours ticked past, she found herself increasingly amused and distracted by Soma’s antics in an attempt to gain Ciel’s attention. At noon, lunch was served, and Rena forced Ciel to listen to her read out loud in Greek as he ate and to translate what she had said every few sentences. Soma was too busy eating to interrupt, except to occasionally ask a question about the story, as they were in the second book of the Iliad.

At one, Greek and lunch concluded, and Rena went to the kitchen to eat her own meal in peace. Stepping in, she noticed that only Tanaka was present, sipping away at his tea. She smiled at him and was greeted with a soft “ho, ho, ho.” Rena turned her back on him and retrieved her plate from the oven, only to hear the deep voice behind her.

“How are you this afternoon, Miss Remington?”

Rena jumped slightly and turned around, nearly dropping her food. “Good grief, Mister Tanaka. You scared me.”

He chuckled. “That was not intended, I assure you. Come, sit, drink some tea with your meal. I thought you might want some company.”

Rena smiled. “Thanks.” She sat and poured herself a cup of tea. “Mister Tanaka…” She trailed off, hesitating.

“Yes, Miss Remington?” Tanaka inquired.

“Do you trust Agni? From what you’ve seen of him so far?”

Tanaka thought for a moment, before nodding. “He is, I believe, trustworthy. Why?”

“I told him about who I am.” Rena mumbled.

Tanaka regarded her with an air that Rena couldn’t quite read. “Indeed. Are you beginning to feel homesick, perhaps?”

Rena nodded and stared down at her food. “My birthday was two months ago, and my mom’s birthday is next week. I wasn’t exactly on good terms with my family, but…”

Tanaka nodded slowly. “So your mother has not truly passed on, then?”

Rena nodded. “Dad’s not gone either, but it’s easier to pretend to be an orphan with indifferent sisters. Explains why I never get any letters or send any myself.”

“A wise observation and decision, on both counts.”

“Huh?” Rena looked up again.

“Our visitors have not had time to fall under the corruption that is spread by this household. The butler is an excellent choice for a confidante. You have learned quickly who to trust, Miss Remington.”

Rena sighed. “Well, it doesn’t hurt when you can look at someone and tell what they’re planning, which is why I —” She was cut off by a soft poof and the sight of small Tanaka. Rena smiled. “It can wait until you’ve regained your strength. Thank you for the confirmation on my choice, Mister Tanaka.” The soft “ho, ho, ho” that she received in return gave Rena a feeling of safety.

At least she had a few allies, both within and without.

A crash and the sound of fencing brought Rena back into the moment, and she looked at Tanaka, a long-suffering expression on her face.

“It just never stops in this place, does it?”

Notes:

Common Sense Tip of the Day, Taken for Once:

Pick your allies wisely. That is all.

This story is officially caught up to where it is on quotev, so hopefully I can keep them updated simultaneously from now on. Sorry if Agni and Soma seemed OOC, I’m not 100% comfy with how to write their characters, to be honest.

Chapter 16: Silent Move

Notes:

silent move — chess term: A move that has a dynamic tactical effect on a position, but that does not capture or attack an enemy piece.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rushing upstairs, Rena slowed so that she’d enter the room in a controlled manner. Surveying the situation, Rena saw Agni and Sebastian fighting in the center of the room. Smiling slightly, she watched the last few blows between the two, ending in the shattering of both rapiers.

Sebastian sighed. “Oh dear. The blade is broken.”

Agni nodded. “We cannot continue, then. This match is a draw.”

Despite this friendly exchange, the group stood around in shock, only for Rena to break the silence.

“I see that your butler is an equal to ours, Prince Soma. I am quite impressed.”

Soma grinned proudly. “Agni’s the best fighter in my palace.” He turned to Sebastian. “You are the first to fight equally against him. Ciel’s khansama, I shall excuse you today in deference to your skills.”

Sebastian bowed. “I am most honoured.”

As Agni and Sebastian exchanged post-match pleasantries, Rena stepped up next to Ciel. “Try to hide your surprise, Earl. It is unbecoming.” She smiled.

“But… but he held his own…. against Sebastian.” Ciel stuttered.

Rena nodded, but further conversation was interrupted by Agni’s approach. “Lord Ciel. I apologize for my earlier actions. Does your arm still hurt?”

“N…no…”

“I am glad!”

Rena hid another smile as she slipped away towards the gardens. A short walk would do her good, and she was unlikely to be needed for the next hour or so.

As she passed the kitchen window, a commotion drew her back inside and downstairs. Bard was sitting in the corner, fuming. Agni was holding a stack of recipes, and Sebastian brushed past her, clearly annoyed with everyone and everything, as he barely spared her a glance on his way. Rena slipped inside and sat at the counter in her usual spot for when Bard was “cooking”, or previously, Sebastian. Agni looked at her, and Rena smiled wryly. “He’s always like that when he’s behind.” She told him quietly.

Agni nodded thoughtfully, then looked at Bard, still in the corner. A lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. “Mister chef!” He had to repeat himself a couple of times before Bard grumbled in acknowledgement.

It took a second for the full force of what Agni was saying to hit him. He sat straight up, eyes wide open. “Chef!? You talkin’ to me?”

“Yes! I am not accustomed to cooking British food. Will you please help me?”

“Yeah!” Bard cheered, and Agni handed him a bowl of already-peeled onions.

“Will you chop these, then?”

“Piece of cake! ‘Cos I’m the chef!” Bard immediately started in on the onions, good humor restored.

Agni smiled at him and turned to Rena. “Will you help as well, Miss Rena?”

Rena chuckled. “If you need something taste-tested, sure. I am not a great chef, by any means.”

“I find that hard to believe. You told me that you lived on your own.” Agni replied quietly.

Rena smiled wryly. “I must admit, I used a good deal of pre-made food. One of the benefits of my time.” She replied equally quietly. “The only thing I ever successfully made from scratch were fried eggs and pancakes.”

“Perhaps you will have to learn. Can Mister Sebastian teach you?”

“He’s not interested in teaching a mere governess.”

Agni looked at her curiously. “I am surprised. Perhaps I will have to teach you some Indian recipes while we are here, then.”

Rena smiled at him. “Don’t be surprised if I mess something up and end up poisoning everybody.” She joked.

Agni chuckled. “I doubt that would happen.”

Finny came in at that moment, and Agni stepped away to recruit him for potato-mashing. Mey-Rin came in a moment later, inquiring where Sebastian was, and went to go set the table upon learning that he wasn’t present. Rena sat and watched everyone work, when a small scream from Mey-Rin broke the chatter around the counter. Agni rushed to her rescue, and the dishes were saved for once.

Overall, the evening was proceeding quite smoothly, and it was calming to Rena to see this little spot of joy and light in the middle of a dark place. It reminded her of when Alexander would make breakfast for the two of them, except on a grander scale.

Sebastian stepped back into the room, and instead of an immediate atmosphere of doom, everyone greeted him cheerfully. He stopped in shock, and Agni paused in his cooking. “Mister Sebastian?”

“I… am just amazed that you were able to get them to help you.” Sebastian appeared at a loss for words, a development which brought Rena a certain deep satisfaction.

“They work hard. They are good people.” Agni responded calmly.

“Well, they are not evil, per se…” Sebastian muttered. Rena smirked on the inside. Yeah, unlike you.

Agni smiled. “Everyone is born with a gift.” He glanced up, catching Rena’s eye briefly before turning to Sebastian. “Each of us has a path and a god-given duty. We must simply follow the path we are set upon, and do what we have been set here to do without haste.”

Sebastian still appeared shocked, but seemed to be regaining his composure. “How do I put this? Mister Agni is…” He trailed off.

#black butler fanfiction

0 notes

your-daily-biaswrecking · 3 years

Note

I wanna say that namjoons dad bestfriend drabble was so freaking hot….🥵🥵🥵 maybe part 2? 🙏 when they make out in family house of yn? And her dad is next room 👀 i am so dirty pls forgive me😂

can't believe it took me so long to answer this... okay, so, my requests are not open but i decided to clear up my inbox a bit, starting with this one. as for this part 2... i know it could have been just a short scene with pure smut, but i wanted the drama of the plot, okay? also i'm not doing another psa: this is wrong and pls don't do this, it's just fiction

part 1

Namjoon knew he had to stop this. This... Whatever it was the two of you had. He had found excuses to come see you multiple times throughout the winter, always missing you too much and being unable to stay away for too long. But when you surprised him, secretly coming back to your hometown to be with just him for a week, he wasn't as happy. It was the first reminder of how different your worlds were; he was a grown man minding his career, at an age where he should be seeking marriage and kids. And you? You were skipping school to see your crush.

"I think my daughter has a boyfriend," his best friend casually told him one day soon after that. Namjoon froze, his heart the only thing reacting to those words. But his friend went on nonchalantly, pointing to his ignorance. "I don't mind, of course. I've only told her one thing, and it's not to get pregnant. I don't want her to go through what her mother and I went through, you know? She's at this age... you know? She needs to enjoy her age."

Namjoon... The grown man who should be seeking marriage and kids was fucking this girl. All those times he came inside you, filling you up a little too aggressively– as if deep down he wished he'd knock you up and keep you to himself forever.

He had to end this.

When he told you those same words –you need to enjoy your age, you need to be with a peer– you seemed more mad than hurt. But perhaps you understood. You weren't stupid, you too knew this was wrong. Perhaps you were just waiting for it to happen, waiting for the excitement of doing something against the rules to die out and the realization of the responsibility to hit him. You didn't blame him. But you were still annoyed. Stopped talking altogether, the only news he got from you now came from your father. You did get a boyfriend, or so he was told. And you were doing well with your studies and you were generally living a great student's life.

Summertime and you were here again. Along with your so-called boyfriend. Namjoon was so pissed off when he saw the skinny, mussy, sweaty boy that seemed to either be very slow or high off his ass all the time. And you seemed pleased with yourself.

"You really had to bring him here?"

You chuckled– an evil laugh, he thought. "I thought you'd be happy to see me dating someone my age." When your eyes met his, you made him feel like your positions were switched. So confident while he was almost throwing a tantrum. "What about you?" you asked. "Dating anyone your age?"

On that topic, Namjoon had more than enough women showing interest. And your father, for some reason, was dead set on finding him a wife. All those blind dates he had to escape from! He was simply not interested. He didn't want to admit it was because he was still thinking about you; that no one else would ever be a good replacement for you. He didn't want to because he didn't plan on coming back to you; he had to be the adult, the mature one, and stay away. It was the logical and the right thing to do. He didn't want to admit that, despite all of his intelligence and reason, he still thought about you... Because if he did this would no longer be just some attraction, just some fucking around. If he admitted it was more, what would happen then?

No... this was good. You had already moved on. Enjoying your life the way you were supposed to, a life he had no room to be in. All he had to do now was follow your example.

"Namjoon..."

That text was sent past 2 am on a rainy night in October. The only text he had gotten from you in months. That was all it said yet it made his stomach tight as if you had moaned his name in his ear. As if he knew exactly why you had texted him; needy in the middle of the night, that measly boy surely unable to satisfy you, knowing exactly who could help you at that moment. Fuck... Perhaps if he replied right then things would go back to how they were a year ago. He didn't. And you didn't text him again.

"Joon! You are staying for the holidays, right? You should spend Christmas with us." Your father was more than happy to share that day meant to be with family, with his best friend. Namjoon was like family anyway, wasn't he? When he tried to come up with an excuse, the other insisted. "See? If you were married now you would have someone to spend Christmas with, but you're not, so you'll come to spend it with our family. My daughter's coming home tomorrow, too. Ah. Could you pick her up 'cause–"

"No. I can't. Too busy."

The man laughed. "It's okay. But I am expecting you for dinner on Christmas!" he said with a pointing finger. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

And so there he was. Sitting right across from you at the table. In the months that had passed, you had gained some weight and he thought you had never looked better. Your face a little fuller, your jeans straining against your round thighs and hips, your breasts fitting your curves just right. The body of a grown woman. All Namjoon could think about was feeling you against him again. And he was mad again... Did your stupid boyfriend have the chance to fuck you like that? He didn't deserve you.

"You didn't bring that boy with you this time..." he commented.

"What, Eric?" your mother answered for you. "They broke up."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving yours. "Really? How come?"

The corner of your lips turned upwards. "He was just... Too much of a kid."

He hated the way he sighed in relief, the way excitement bubbled in his stomach. He shouldn't be as happy to hear that as he was... He glanced at you again, your hair that had grown longer pushed back to expose your neck. It was getting harder and harder for Namjoon to keep his mind from wandering off to inappropriate things. Along with other parts getting hard.

And then your father spoke. "Joon. You know she's graduating next month, right?" His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead because no– no, he didn't know that. "She's looking for an internship and I thought–"

"Dad..."

"–you could help her get in your company? Maybe you could put in a good word for her?"

"Dad!" Your tone and the way your eyes widened towards your father's way betrayed the fact that the topic hadn't been new, and that you were clearly against the idea.

He looked at you until you finally turned back to face him. And surprising both himself and you, he said: "Yes, of course."

"I'm going to sleep," you announced after the dinner was over and you had helped clean up the table. You gave Namjoon a long glance before you disappeared down the hallway. Your parents had moved to the couch, TV on for some music and a game of cards keeping them busy when their friend asked to go to the bathroom. And you heard a soft knock on your door. "I'm assuming you know that's the wrong door you're knocking at," you spoke before you opened. Already in your sleeping outfit that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and just your panties.

"You knew it was me?" Namjoon whispered, eyes still stuck on your thighs.

"My parents don't knock."

You let him in, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you looked up at him through your lashes. You both stayed silent for a moment, your breaths the only thing filling the empty, badly lit room. You noticed how he wet his plump lips and bit them while he was examining your face. So close you could smell his aroma, the one you never forgot.

“You don’t have to… you know,” you spoke, referring to your father’s idea. “I know you want to avoid me.”

Namjoon exhaled from his nose as if he was annoyed. “I- It’s not that I want to…”

“I know.” You gulped, finding your mouth wetting too much at the wish of kissing him, along with other parts getting wet. “You don’t want to— you have to.” You dared place your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling away, he leaned into your touch. Feeling his heart beat fast under your fingertips like the way he was breathing. He was slowly losing his mind but he knew he wasn’t the only one. “You don’t have to push me away,” you continued in a low tone. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the one coming to you.”

“Little one…” he rasped, and it had you catching a moan in the back of your throat. Oh, how you longed for his pet names, his voice calling to you lovingly. He stepped even closer. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be doing this right now… But how could he stop? He wanted you so bad. His hands cupped your cheeks, lips just a breath away from yours, brushing against you as he whispered: “Come work with me… I wanna see you every day.”

The fabric of his shirt pooled in your palms as you grabbed him, closing the tiny gap between you. Both of you sighing in a mixture of relief and impatience as your lips crushed together. The softness only lasted a few seconds before you were moaning and Namjoon was pinning you on the door, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue in like he was trying to devour you. Your arms wrapped around him while his hands traveled down your body, groping you like you were his stress relief toy. Your hips, your ass… He broke the kiss and buried his face in your neck.

“Ah- daddy,” you whined, grinding on him.

Namjoon felt like he was about to cry. “I missed you so much!” he choked out right before latching his teeth on your skin. Your naughty fingers were struggling to unzip his pants quickly and it made him chuckle instead of sob. “Fuck—” he growled. And he pulled back to stare at you with dark eyes. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.” There he was; the Namjoon you knew so well. His words made you shiver.

“Please, daddy. I need you right now.”

He placed a hand on the door right next to your head, while he freed his dick with the other. “Your parents are right outside.”

Ignoring his words, you discarded your panties and took him in your hand, biting your lip. “I can’t wait any longer, need you to fuck me right now, plea-ase!” you whined a little too loud and Namjoon growled, grabbing your legs and lifting you until you straddled his waist, back on the door.

“Gosh, you’ll get daddy in big trouble, baby.” Tip of his cock brushing your wet folds, making your mouth drop. “They might come looking for me.”

“Quick,” you sobbed. “Be quick, please, just— ah!”

He slipped inside and you both gasped. Your legs were shaking at the feeling, eyes rolling back and a moan as quiet as you could manage rumbled through your neck. He got as deep as he could, face scrunching as if he was in pain. You kissed him.

“I’ve missed you, daddy. I’ve missed this so much.”

His head was spinning as he was trying to find the right words, the words that could describe exactly how he felt about you. “I- I-”

Laughter echoed through the house— your mother. You both froze. Namjoon glanced at the doorknob, and then he grabbed it; your parents could walk in at any moment. He didn’t stop though, nothing could stop him now. He angled his hips and started thrusting into you; fast and sloppy because the clock was ticking.

“Daddy…” you mewled, unable to do or say anything else.

Namjoon clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” he demanded. “You better not start screaming like the little whore you are, or they’ll hear us.”

His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; making you moan harder. And the fact that he had his big hand over your mouth made you not care to keep quiet. Your choked whines along with the wet sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you could definitely be heard from the other side of the door, perhaps even from that couch your father was on had it not been for the music.

“Shit, you—” he growled. He finally dropped his hand from your mouth, wanting to grab your ass to lift you higher, fuck you better.

Your head fell on his shoulder before you decided to bite down on it to stop yourself from screaming as Namjoon’s thick dick drilled into you with no mercy. “So-o good…”

“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath already, yet cocky. “Did you forget what it’s like to have a real man fuck your pussy, baby? That little boy didn’t do shit, did he? He can’t fuck you as good as daddy, right?”

Your nails dug in his back and you felt your brain so rotten like he was about to fuck you to sleep. “I… don’t know…” you mumbled.

Namjoon stopped. He pulled his head slightly back but he couldn’t see your face. “What?” Your body squirmed, trying to chase that high he had just denied you. “What do you mean—”

“I don’t know what he was like,” you whined. “I only thought of you.”

Another laughter, loud voices coming from that couch. It didn’t scare him that much this time, his heart was already racing and he only gave that direction a glance before he was pulling your head back to look into your eyes. Only then did he notice the tear stains on your cheeks, and you sobbed, choked as he thrust into you again.

“I only thought of you, daddy…” you repeated with a whimper. And it had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, pumping into you a couple more times, hard, before he spilled his seed deep inside.

A whisper. “Fuck…” Panting and groaning as he was trying to come to, and you watching his glistening face as he grimaced and bit his lip. He let you down, resting his forehead on the door while he still struggled to collect himself, and you basked in the pride it gave you. You tucked him back in his underwear and zipped him up with a smirk on your lips, seeing how he finally started to be able to focus his eyes on you.

You opened the door slightly and peeked out; your parents were still playing cards on the couch, they didn’t notice you just like they probably hadn’t noticed how long Namjoon was gone for.

“You should go back,” you whispered as you came back into the room. Namjoon kissed you quickly like he was trying to catch you off guard. And then he grabbed your chin, staring down at you, breaths still coming out too hard.

“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I’ll come back to finish what I started when your father goes to bed.”

You smiled, pushing him slightly back yet he wasn’t budging. “Go…” you prompted as you started feeling his cum sipping out of your cunt and slowly running down your thighs.

Namjoon smiled too. “Really. I’ll eat you out till you pass out, baby, I promise.”

In the dark of the room and the rush of the moment, you decided you had no reason not to let your thoughts slip out. “I wish you could just come to sleep in my arms.”

He got a little serious. And he kissed you again, slower than before. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He left through that door, meeting your parents that were happy to see him yet didn’t even bother to point out his long absence. Sitting next to his best friend while his breathing was still shaky from fucking his daughter.

Shit… That girl will get him in so much trouble…

Masterlist

#bts #bangtan #namjoon #rm #kim namjoon #request #drabble #fanfic #oneshot #smut #dilf namjoon #bts drabble #bts smut #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon one shot #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #kkklaudiaaa17

654 notes · View notes

opalesense · 3 years

Note

um um hiii! im like literally in l o v e with ur writing, especially the diluc and kaeya stories (im such a simp omg) and was wondering if you could do some more diluc x reader x kaeya nsfw—

ofc you can ignore this but ty if you consider it!! stay hydrated and safe ily <3

over the counter

diluc x f!reader x kaeya (NSFW)

6.5k words • ~40 min. read

summary: after a tense night at the tavern, kaeya accidentally forgets his belongings and comes back to see you and diluc having an intimate moment – or maybe it wasn’t an accident...

warnings: slight degradation, a lot of jealousy!! drama!!

notes: reader is in a relationship with diluc beforehand just to switch things up a little from my last fic! also this fic favors diluc a lot more so diluc simps come get your juice ;D thanks for waiting anon ily too <3 i’m so sorry this took so long T_T

SPENDING WEEKEND NIGHTS AT THE TAVERN was not uncommon for you. In fact, whether you were in the mood to drink or not, one of the main reasons you frequently visited the bar was to keep Diluc company, who greatly appreciated the effort you put into making sure he didn’t feel alone while he worked. Evenings with the two of you were often spent idly chatting while he served drinks, which surely kept his spirits up throughout the longer and busier nights. Customers usually commented about how Diluc always seemed to have a grin on his face when you were around, unlike some other nights where his deadpan expression often intimidated the people of Mondstadt and subsequently intimidated the customers themselves.

That didn’t stop business from booming, of course. As long as the alcohol was good and quickly served, customers couldn’t care less about how intimidating Diluc could be. Neither would they care about how he would sneak some free drinks to your seat across the bar if you asked for it, or how he would shyly rest his hand on top of yours if the night was slow and no one was paying attention.

In the end, on weekend nights when you were sitting in your favorite seat at the bar that was conveniently never taken no matter how busy the night was (or maybe not so convenient, since Diluc always made sure to secretly reserve it when the weekend rolled around), people knew never to bother the two of you. After all, on nights when Diluc was happy, he gave spectacular service to bargoers, who decidedly took advantage of this hospitality and thus visited Angels Share more often knowing the atmosphere was better if you were there.

But of course, as soon as a certain blue haired customer walked into the establishment to take his long awaited night off of the week, Diluc couldn’t help but shake his head at you and sarcastically remark, “Well, here comes trouble...”

“What, are you not happy to see me, brother?” After placing his belongings down, Kaeya took his seat next to you and shot you a friendly grin to briefly acknowledge your presence. “I’ve been coming here after work almost every night for so long – have you finally gotten tired of me already?”

Diluc rolled his eyes and began making a Death After Noon for his brother, already knowing the specific bittersweet flavor he likes without Kaeya needing to ask. “Come to think of it, it’s about time I take off that family discount of yours, I’ve been too nice to you these past months.”

Kaeya crossed his arms as he leaned forward on the counter with a scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I need financial compensation for the headache that you induce whenever you’re in the same vicinity as me,” Diluc joked as he finished making the drink then set it in front of Kaeya, who took the glass with a pout and turned to face you.

“You hear this guy? Financial compensation... as if he needs it, being the richest jerk in all of Mondstadt to date.”

“Watch your tone, idiot,” Diluc snapped back as he turned to serve another awaiting customer.

There was no doubt that the two seemed to get along quite well as of late. At first it was almost as if they were both trying to impress you by showing you that they could be nice to each other as per your request, but as time passed, competition turned into a slow realization of having genuine concern for each other, and the brothers have been on the road to reconciliation ever since. Even when Diluc ended up being the one to completely sweep you off your feet and steal your heart, Kaeya never showed any opposition and even encouraged your relationship. “Despite everything, you truly deserve her, ‘Luc,” you overheard him reassure Diluc months ago after admitting defeat in their competition.

There was no doubt that you loved Diluc more than anything. He provided you with everything you could ever ask for, from emotional support and material things to overwhelming satisfaction in the bedroom. But at the back of your mind, especially on slightly tipsy nights such as this one, lies a certain lingering thought about that certain blue haired brother. Was it so bad to fantasize about being pressed between the two? Was it so bad to imagine the feeling of being fondled and manhandled by both of them at the same time? Was it so bad to be at least curious about being shared between the two?

You took a sip of your free drink as you stared blankly at the dents on the wooden counter.

Maybe it is bad, you thought.

After all, if Diluc mentioned that he wanted a threesome with someone else, you wouldn’t exactly be ecstatic about it.

That’s why you would never mention these fantasies to either of them, despite trusting them both with all of your secrets after being close with them for so long. You were scared of how Diluc would react to your curiosity. You were scared he would get the wrong impression and that your relationship would come tumbling down as a consequence of your little fantasy.

Maybe it is bad.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Kaeya snapping his fingers in front of your face. His head was tilted to the side as if he were trying to meet your downturned gaze. “Hey. Did I lose you? What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I was just lost in thought,” you ignored the subtle compliment and averted your eyes from the counter to look at Kaeya’s face, the shadows of the dimly lit tavern casting on him at the perfect angle to show off his features. You had to admit he was handsome - hell, all of Mondstadt surely thought so too. You glanced around nervously looking for Diluc to see a glimpse of his fiery hair heading up the stairs to the second floor, presumably to serve a table. He was understaffed today, you remember him saying.

“What were we talking about again?” you asked Kaeya, a little dazed and confused, overwhelmed by the reality of the moment. The clinking of glasses throughout the tavern, the bard playing the lyre in the corner, and the large group of rowdy men at a nearby table flooded your senses, leaving you a bit dizzy with no help at all from the alcohol. He simply laughed, gazing down as he swirled his own drink in his glass then met your eyes once more.

“I was asking how you and Diluc have been,” his sharp stare contrasted with his soft grin as the currently sober man turned his stool to completely face you. There was intention in his eyes, but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what those intentions were. “I know he doesn’t like to catch up with small talk so I don’t like to bother asking him about what’s new.”

With the heel of your boot you decided to turn your stool to face him as well. Your knees were less than an inch away from touching his, which made you internally flustered given the fantasy you were just thinking about. You tried your best to keep your eyes on his face, ignoring his exposed skin just under his neck. He tilted his head back and took a sip of his drink then continued. “Besides, I enjoy talking to you more than him anyway.”

You could see right through him in this moment. Or at least, you thought you could. Maybe you were overthinking it, but you swore you could see his sapphire eyes slowly trail from your eyes down your body all the way to your grazing knees then dart back up again.

Maybe it was bad. Maybe it was the lighting.

“We’ve been doing good,” you nodded, studying his face more. “He’s been a lot happier recently since the two of you have been getting along more. Don’t tell him I told you that, though,” you leaned in slightly with a wink.

Kaeya let out a low chuckle at that and looked down at his glass again, taking a moment to form his next words. With a nod, he let out a sigh of relief. “That’s great. You’ve been looking a lot happier too, I can tell.”

“Oh? How exactly can you tell? We haven’t seen each other in a while,” you crossed your legs, feeling defensive, which accidentally brushed his in the process. You quietly apologized and he slightly lifted his hand up to excuse you.

“Oh, it’s nothing too crazy. It’s just the glow in your face and the pep in your step when I see you on the streets while I’m out patrolling. Seems like Diluc’s got one happy girl,” he tilted his head back for another sip, and for a moment, you saw his genial smile drop as he set his glass back down on the counter. But as quickly as he let go of his façade , he quickly masked his intentions again with a chuckle.

He seemed a little jealous, you thought. But before you could fully form a thought around that idea, Diluc came back with a tray in hand, empty glasses and mugs balancing on top of his palm. He carefully placed each of them into the sink and got to work on washing then drying them.

“How have you been, Kaeya?” he said with his back turned towards you both, “You weren’t flirting with my [Y/N] while I was gone, were you?”

“How could I do such a thing?” Kaeya huffed, seemingly offended. “Put some more faith in me, brother.”

Diluc turned around with a glass in hand, drying it with a rag and initially focusing his attention on Kaeya. You watched as the two stared at each other across the bar for a few moments, the air suddenly getting thicker as they both emanated a strange seriousness, almost as if they were arguing telepathically. Diluc’s intense stare burned into Kaeya’s cold expression, his arms tensing up so much that you thought he was going to break the glass in his hands. It was a little scary to witness how quickly the mood could change in only a few minutes, and feeling a little uncomfortable, you decided to stand up and make your way to the second floor balcony for some fresh air, away from the loud atmosphere of the main room and even further away from whatever random feud the brothers sparked up tonight.

The crisp air was meditative. It was soothing to stand on the balcony, leaning over the rail and staring into the night sky, letting your mind wander. Your days were often bustling with work and interacting with people so it was very rare to have a moment like this to yourself. At first, you figured it would be best to go back downstairs – after all, it had been a week since you’ve talked to Kaeya and it would be nice to catch up with your friend. But you weren’t sure why the mood was suddenly so tense, especially since nothing had really happened and as much as you knew how Diluc was protective over you, you felt like he was overreacting.

As you took slow sips of your drink, savoring the taste and gazing upon the night life of Mondstadt below, seconds turned into minutes, then minutes turned into an hours, and soon the moon had settled into the midnight sky and the tavern was nearing its closing time. You hadn’t realized that so much time had passed until Kaeya, who was usually the last customer to leave the tavern, whistled towards you from below as he was walking home, waving to get your attention then finally turning away and bidding farewell.

“Darling,” you heard a familiar voice behind you as you were waving back to Kaeya, “Did I do something to upset you?”

You turned to see a clearly apologetic Diluc standing in the balcony doorway, his arms crossed and hair messily thrown up into a ponytail. “Why didn’t you come back inside? We were waiting for you,” he quietly asked as he slowly approached you.

He placed his hands on your waist and pressed his forehead against yours while rubbing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips which he gladly returned with several more gentle kisses across your face, humming slowly and patiently waiting for your response.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Diluc. I really just needed some fresh air. I’ve felt a little overwhelmed all night and didn’t notice how much time passed,” you muttered.

You were telling half the truth.

You didn’t want to admit that you thought Diluc was being a little overdramatic, and you certainly didn’t want to tell him that you were overwhelmed with the thought of being touched by him and his brother at the same time. Some things are better left unsaid.

Maybe that was bad. Maybe white lies were okay, only for now.

He pressed one last kiss to your forehead before nodding as he processed your words. “Let’s get you warmed up back inside, you must have been freezing out here.”

“I didn’t think this is what you meant by getting warmed up,” you softly giggled in between passionate kisses as his bare, warm hands traveled up your top to eventually pull the entire damned thing off. He tossed it off to the side mindlessly before unbuttoning his own uniform top and letting it drape next to yours over the bar stool it landed on.

“I’ve had a long night,” he trailed the kisses down to your neck, gently biting enough to only leave subtle marks and murmuring against your skin. He lifted you up onto the counter to get better leverage over you, slowly spreading your legs apart then continuing the kisses down your collarbone. “And you look so beautiful tonight, I can’t help myself.”

“Just make it quick, okay?” you nervously looked at the window behind him which allowed the moonlight to illuminate the already darkened bar but also allowed anyone who felt like peering in to clearly see the two of you getting touchy in the tavern. You let him press up against you regardless, feeling his bulge grind against your clothed hips desperately. “What if someone sees?” you whispered, teasing him with the idea of getting interrupted and caught, which you knew annoyed him to the core.

“Good,” he paused for a moment to look up at you, his hungry eyes burning into your memory. “Let them see that you’re clearly mine.”

Your heart throbbed at this sudden possessiveness and with a naughty smirk, you decided to give up the innocent act. With a few swift movements, the rest of your clothes were ripped off until you were half naked, the only remaining bit of modesty you had being the underwear that clinged to your skin until Diluc eventually pulled that off too, exposing you fully to him.

“So beautiful,” he sighed as he kneeled down in front of you, pulling your hips towards him then pinning your knees to the counter as he lowered his head to your aroused cunt. “And all mine.”

You couldn’t help but let out quiet, staggered breaths as he immediately wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling on the sensitive nub as his eyes remained glued to yours. “All y-yours,” you reaffirmed, which made him hum in appreciation.

He had never considered fucking you in the tavern before, especially since he rarely had the establishment all to himself for a shift, but just this once, he was happy he was understaffed tonight. All the frustrations he had endured this evening, from the annoying table on the main floor to bickering with Kaeya about things that didn’t seem to matter anymore led to this very moment where he hungrily licked your wet folds, burying himself into the sound of your hesitant moans and feeling himself harden by the second.

“P-Please fuck me already,” you breathlessly begged, “Please, Diluc, hurry…”

“Cum for me first,” his low voice muttered into your aching cunt, making your legs quiver, “Show me how much you really want it.”

The whine that escaped your throat was suddenly replaced with a gasp as Diluc pushed two fingers into you, immediately setting a quick pace and pressing into your sweet spot. “Cum for me, darling,” he let go of the grip on your leg to stand up and hover over your torso, leaning closer to your face and snaking his free hand up your back. “Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

“D-Diluc…!” you whimpered with a pout, which earned a hum of disapproval from him.

“Master Diluc,” he sternly reminded you, shifting his fingers into you quicker, causing your brain to malfunction as you began to tighten around him.

“M-Master…! I’m…!”

“Go on,” he ran his fingers through your scalp and grabbed a handful of hair, leaning down to kiss you and muffle your moans of pleasure as you finally reached your climax, gushing around his fingers and trembling at his touch. You whimpered in his mouth, muscles slightly spasming still as you started to calm down from your high and feel his fingers slowly pull out of you. While keeping his grip on your hair, he let go of the kiss and stuck out his tongue against his fingers, licking your fluids in front of you and smiling in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he said as he revelled in his favorite taste. You watched as he lapped up all the fluids, the mixture of cum and saliva glimmering on his fingers under the light of the moon through the window.

Speaking of which, you weren’t sure if it was the way you were slightly tipsy or perhaps the heat of the moment deceiving you, but through Diluc’s messy locks and shiny fiingers, you swore you saw a glimpse of a familiar shade of blue through the window. It was unmoving, sure, but it was there nonetheless, and it wasn’t there the last time you looked through the glass.

Maybe it was bad.

Maybe it was Kaeya.

Horror sunk into your chest for a fleeting moment, but you blamed it on the alcohol, and the way you were thinking about Kaeya and Diluc so much within the past few hours. Besides, all the thoughts you were having about the strange color in the window were replaced by the way Diluc unbuttoned his pants with one hand, the other still intertwined in your hair, then freed his cock and let it rest on your stomach as he slowly laid you down across the counter. He pulled you towards him once more so your head could rest on the wood, his hair-tangled hand acting as a cushion while his elbow took its place beside you so he completely caged you in. “Be quiet for me, okay? We don’t want to wake all of Mondstadt this late at night…”

“I’ll be good,” you promised him, letting your hands travel down to feel his length resting on your skin. It had some weight to it as you lifted it, and as if you two were mentally in perfect sync, he pulled his hips back to let you position the tip at your entrance.

Excitement boiled in your stomach as he slowly inched his hips forward, pushing his cock into you little by little, stretching your walls apart by the seams. Your mouth went agape with the sheer stretch alone and fighting the urge to moan had never been more difficult. Instead, the only sounds that filled the silent room was Diluc’s heavy breath as he closed his eyes from the way you wrapped around him so well, the gentle gasps and whimpers from you as he bottomed out and nearly hit your cervix, then the sudden rhythmic slapping of skin as he began to pound into you with no warning.

Your eyes rolled back into your head at the rush of pleasure that came with the rolling of his hips into yours. It was so difficult to keep quiet, so hard not to at least whimper and give tiny moans here and there as he fucked you silly on that bar counter, but he couldn’t care less since he told you to be quiet and expected you to follow suit. You knew that. He instead opted to gently wrap his hand on your throat without applying pressure – simply as a warning.

You couldn’t control your orgasm even if you wanted to. The way he stared into your eyes so desperately while his cock kissed your cervix repeatedly made you lose control so easily, and he took advantage of the way you tightened around him by fucking into you harder. Faster. Deeper.

“You’re so fucking good, darling,” his hazy eyes glanced down to your lips with the intent to lean down for a kiss. “You’re–“

A loud knock on the door startled the two of you enough for Diluc to stop his thrusts and look up towards the source of the noise, a few red strands of hair draping over your face and tickling your cheek. He stared intensely at the door, pushing into you again at snail speed as he waited for an indicator of who was the culprit of the noise.

Another knock sent a jolt up your spine – or maybe it was the way Diluc snapped his hips into you once then slowly pulled back to drag out the pleasure. With a frustrated huff, he decided to tighten the pressure around your neck and pound into you at the relentless speed he set before, quietly shushing you when you initially gasped in surprise.

After one more knock, Diluc lost his patience. It was his greatest pet peeve of interruption becoming a reality. “We’re closed!” his voice boomed loudly so the person on the other side of the door would surely hear him, startling you at the sudden break of silence. Clearly frustrated, he pounded into you faster, chasing his pleasure, knowing that he would need to deal with whoever was bothering the two of you this late at night and wanting to quickly reach his release before then.

“It’s me,” both of your eyes widened at the familiar voice, “I forgot my stuff at my seat, could you let me in real quick?”

Diluc turned his gaze down past your head to see that, as a matter of fact, Kaeya’s belongings were still at his seat from earlier. His eyebrow twitched as he quickly pulled himself off of you, leaving you quietly gasping for air and clenching around nothing.

“Get under the counter,” he whispered so quietly that you just barely heard him, “Don’t move a muscle.”

Following his command, you made you way under the counter, nestling your naked body next to a cabinet of liquor as you watched Diluc button his pants and loosely put his shirt back on, buttoning it while he walked around the bar towards the door. At that point, all you could do was listen to a set of keys jingle as he unlocked the tavern door and a gust of cold air rushed through the entrance, strong enough that you shivered behind the counter and hugged your knees to retain warmth.

“Get your things then get out,” Diluc bluntly greeted Kaeya, who chuckled in response.

“Aw, why the sudden hostility again?” you heard slow footsteps approach the bar, sending your heart racing with anxiety, “And why the disheveled appearance? Oh, let me guess–“

“Get your things. Then get out,” Diluc said more sternly. You could recognize that tone from anywhere. He was furious.

“But let me guess first! Judging by the way the tavern is still a mess, I know you weren’t cleaning up the place just now. And by the way your clothes are so messily put together even though they were so neat and tidy earlier, as well as the sweat on your forehead… Oh, don’t tell me I interrupted something intimate, dear brother!”

You didn’t need to see him to know that Diluc’s jaw was tensed, unable to form a response out of pure annoyance and frustration. And still, Kaeya pressed his buttons.

“You were fucking her real good,” he teased after waiting for a response and getting nothing from Diluc, ”I could hear it from outside the door.”

“I fucking hate you,” was all Diluc could say in response. He didn’t actually mean it, you knew this, but he was beyond irritated.

Kaeya shuffled to grab his belongings by his seat and turned to face the door. But as if he weren’t being petty enough, he reached into his bag for something and suddenly tossed it behind him – his house keys, which landed behind the bar right next to your feet. Your eyes widened at this. You swore you stopped breathing even if you didn’t mean to.

“I think I might have left something behind the counter too, mind if I check?”

The silence that followed was unbearable, even if it only lasted a few seconds. All of the sudden, your heart began to pound out of your chest, not only because of sheer fear and anxiety, but also because of the possibility that Kaeya would see you so vulnerable behind that counter, naked and hugging your knees, waiting for someone to hold you and ‘warm you up.’ Maybe he already did see you through that window. Maybe it wasn’t just your mind playing tricks on you.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Diluc, maybe I’ve gone too far–“

“No,” Diluc interrupted him, “Go ahead. Go get your keys.”

What?

“Seriously?” Kaeya scoffed in disbelief.

What are you doing, Diluc?

“Go on.”

What’s happening?

“‘Luc, I know she’s there, I’m just messing with you–“

“No, Kaeya,” Diluc turned to close the tavern door and lock it, “I know you’ve been eyeing her since the very beginning, even before I came along. I’m not even mad, I just feel sorry for you. I feel sorry that I took away someone you wanted so badly and that you haven’t been able to move on since.”

Diluc took a few steps towards the speechless brother and lowered his voice, still maintaining the same intensity and dragging out his words. “So why don’t you go behind the counter and get your fucking keys? While you’re there, you might as well fuck my girlfriend with me too, since you want her attention so badly.”

The room froze in time, only for a moment. Thoughts began to flood your mind – why would Diluc say that, especially since he was usually very protective over you? Should you refuse to let Kaeya see you, or let it happen? After all, it’s not like you weren’t at least a little bit curious how this situation would unfold...

While you sat in the corner naked and trembling, you held back your breath and listened to Kaeya’s footsteps slowly drag across the wooden floor, the creaking getting closer and closer until he was in your peripheral vision. “Diluc,” he immediately turned away once he saw you sitting there, exposed and cold, then let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Come now, Kaeya,” Diluc stepped in front of him to enter the bar and suddenly grab your arm, lifting you up with no hesitation and making you gasp in embarassment. He pinned your arms behind your back and turned to make you face Kaeya, whose eyes were glued to the opposite wall out of a little bit of respect. “How about we make this a competition, since you seem to love competing so much?”

“Diluc,” you whimpered as you tried to struggle out of his grasp with no success, which you didn’t complain about because a part of you wanted to unravel this situation even further. “Please…”

“Please what, darling?” he muttered into your ear from behind, “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve been pining for him too.”

“N-No, of course not,” you whined, “I just…”

Maybe it was bad.

Maybe it was bad, but you were going to do it anyway.

You pressed yourself against his hips, gently grinding on his erection and letting out small whimpers. Just like Diluc, you hated being interrupted and couldn’t exactly think straight. All of this petty arguing didn’t matter to you, especially since you wanted them both from the beginning either way. In an attempt to admit your secret without explicitly saying it, you mustered up the courage to mutter, “Please, both of you, stop fighting and just… fuck me…”

Diluc tightened his grip around you with a grin, letting out a low scoff. “Slut. I knew you were a slut,” your eyes widened and stomach burned in excitement at the sudden degrading nickname he called you, “I bet you’ve been thinking about something like this for a while, haven’t you?”

You sheepishly nodded as he slowly pushed you back onto the counter, this time laying you on your stomach and bending you over. “I won’t deny that I’ve been thinking about the same thing lately,” he started to unbutton his top again as you raised an eyebrow at this new information. He huffed with annoyance as he unbuttoned his pants and turned his head to the dumbfounded brother across the bar. “Kaeya, either grab your keys and go or stay here and keep her mouth occupied. I’ll let you decide – just make it quick and quit standing there.”

With your head dangling off the counter, you watched as Kaeya slowly turned around to face the two of you, studying the scene for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. As if he finally made a decision, he put down his belongings again, took off his vest, and made his way across the counter, his hips only a foot away from your face. Meanwhile, Diluc had already freed his cock once more, keeping one hand on your restricted arms and using the other to prod your entrance with his tip. The excitement was overwhelming, coursing through your veins as you watched Kaeya slowly unbutton his pants as well with a bit of reluctance.

“Please hurry, Kaeya,” you softly begged, hoping to encourage him to quit holding back since it was obvious he was being overly shy, “Please, I want this so bad…”

“I’m sure you do, darling,” he adopted the pet name from Diluc, “But I like seeing you so needy for me when I’m moving slow like this.”

Letting out an impatient growl, Diluc grabbed onto your hips as he sheathed his cock with your cunt all at once, making you mewl and sigh at the feeling of being full again. He began rolling his hips deeply just as he did before he was so rudely interrupted, never failing to maintain his quick rhythm and making your brain short circuit.

With his slender fingers, Kaeya held your chin in his hand, lifting your face up to look at his and grinning once he saw how your mind was lost as you burned with pleasure. He stared at your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, comparing it to the usual calm and composed demeanor you always seemed to have. He smirked, rubbing a small circle into your chin with his thumb. “So this pretty, helpless face is what Diluc gets to see every single day? I’m very jealous, brother.”

That comment only made Diluc pound into you harder, his weight shifting into his arm to pin you down further. “Cry about it,” he mocked.

Ignoring the comment, Kaeya only pressed his lips together in a pout to tease you, slowly taking out his cock which made your mind boggle at the sheer size of it. He was just as deliciously large as Diluc was, and as he began to stroke it in front of your face, secretly admiring the sight of you being fucked senseless by his brother, you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting in the presence of such dominating forces hovering over you. Without second thought, you left your mouth agape, letting your tongue stick out in a wordless way of telling him you wanted to take him, to satiate your hungry desires that you hid for quite some time now.

“Eager, are we?” Kaeya didn’t seem to ever shut up his teasing, “I was just going to stand here and enjoy the show, but if you really want it that badly…”

One hand on your chin turned into one thumb in your mouth, which you received gratefully nonetheless. He let you suckle sweetly on his finger, cooing at how pathetic you looked drooling all over it when he hadn’t done anything yet. All the while Diluc let go of your folded arms and instead used both hands to firmly grip your ass and pound into you deeper, the sound of slapping skin filling up the room along with his shaky breaths now and then.

A whimper escaped your throat as you looked up at Kaeya’s face, He didn’t need to hear you say the words to know that you were quietly begging for a taste of him by looking at him so innocently, and as such, your wish was his command. He took a step forward to nestle the head of his cock into your mouth, his thumb still on your tongue to make you open up wider and let you salivate over the taste of his skin until he slowly began pushing himself deeper, watching your gag reflex just to find out you were taking him in quite nicely. His heart was aching with jealousy that Diluc was so lucky to have you all to himself, but nonetheless, once he fully bottomed out inside of your throat that he had to remove his finger to fit properly, he saw this as an opportunity to enjoy himself and sighed in pleasurable relief.

Kaeya’s hands found their place on both sides of your head as he slowly fucked your throat, wanting to relish in the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him, holding back coughs and tears. It was a painfully delightful contrast to the way Diluc was relentlessly abusing your aching hole from the other side of the counter, letting out his pent up frustrations of the night in the form of deep thrusts and shameless pants. Kaeya couldn’t help but leave quiet moans here and there as well while he slowly pushed himself in and out of your mouth, filling your throat up with his entire length just to pull back with a sigh then do it again.

Eventually, Kaeya became more comfortable with picking up the pace, watching as Diluc’s slammed his hips into yours and yearning for a similar feeling. His hands traveled through your scalp, tangling through your hair messily as he leaned in to fuck into your mouth with more intent. You hummed sweetly as Kaeya finally stopped holding back, giving into the pleasure and matching Diluc’s rough pace. The feeling of the two of them ignoring their feud and instead taking out their frustrations on you made your insides twist and knot together knowing that after so long, your fantasies have come to light – or rather, they came to this dimly lit tavern in the middle of the night.

Diluc was the first to release himself in you, filling your drenched cunt with his seed and controlling his staggering breaths as he fucked you slowly to calm down from his high. It made you needy to hear his low groans in their fullest volume, but you knew that that had to be saved for different circumstances. His fingers that dug into your skin so intensely gently lifted off of you has he wiped the slight sweat off his forehead and simultaneously looked up to watch Kaeya fucking your throat. If he hadn’t been so exhausted from work tonight, he would’ve secretly loved to invite Kaeya for another round, knowing how tightly your cunt wrapped around him the second Kaeya started touching you.

Shortly after, Kaeya finally reached his own release too, letting your nose nestle in his trimmed blue hair as he dumped his cum into your throat unceremoniously. His chest slowly rose and fell with each deep breath he took, trying to control himself as he felt you attempt to swallow his seed while he was still inside you. The feeling drove him crazy and craving for more, but as he averted his gaze from you to look at Diluc on the other side, a wave of regret and jealousy washed over him knowing that this was probably going to leave him off on bad terms with his brother – again.

But much to his dismay, as he slowly pulled out of you, Diluc only laughed. He laughed wholeheartedly as he gently caressed your waist, soothing you while you gasped for air. Kaeya stood there confused on the sudden lightheartedness in the air, tucking himself back into his pants and getting ready to leave as soon as possible, slightly ashamed for indulging in such an impulsive moment of vulnerability for you and Diluc.

“Not so fast,” Diluc spoke the first words after the long period of silence once Kaeya started to pick up his belongings, “You’re forgetting your keys.”

With the help of Diluc, you slowly lifted yourself up to lay on your back, keeping your legs spread and incoherently mewling for more. Diluc only grinned at this, shushing you with a gentle look and caressing your thigh as he briefly saw his cum pooling on the counter. Kaeya nervously glanced at you before entering the bar and walking towards his keys next to Diluc’s foot, grabbing them, then standing back up with an averted gaze. The poor boy was so nervous, but you had to admit he tasted so good.

Diluc placed a reaffirming hand on Kaeya’s shoulder, making Kaeya lift his head and look into his eyes. The two shared a moment of eye contact, communicating a shared sense of apology to each other. Maybe it was bad at first, but regardless of how much they seemed to be at each others throats, they always seemed to make amends in the end.

“Okay, get out,” Diluc bluntly said, which followed with hurried footsteps towards the door and a quick, “Alright, alright, I’m leaving!” from Kaeya. The exchange made you laugh, but once Kaeya was finally gone and Diluc had locked the door behind him, you were beginning to get antsy.

“So,” Diluc trailed his eyes up and down your trembling body still splayed out on the counter, “would you, by chance, ever be interested in doing that again? Just the three of us?”

“I want to so badly,” you breathlessly admitted, replaying the past half hour in your head and letting the memory brand into your mind. “Please, Master?”

He thought about it for a moment then grinned.

“I’ll think about it. As long as you know you belong to me in the end, maybe another round with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

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