#AND SHE WASN'T EVEN MY TYPE!! I GAVE HER THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT

[siulongbao]

Omg hate that I felt actual feelings for someone for the first time and she's fucking ghosting me after we went on 3 whole fucking dates, two of which she was telling me how much she liked me and felt our chemistry

[sushirrrry]

PART OF US - PART ONE.

a harry styles x original character, 4-part short-story. themes: dadrry, lhh, coming of age, contemporary romance set in NYC. CW: explicit sex, language, & conversations surrounding mental health. 20.4k words. follow me on twitter @/sadprose_em & wattpad @/sushirrrry for notifications. enjoy <3

Spring.

In a moment of panic, Sofia stopped.

"Fuck," Sofia dug into the contents of the small purse on her arm, knowing that she wasn't going to find anything deeper in the tiny clutch, no matter how hard she tried. "I forgot my phone."

Nat looked at her friend with an annoyed face as they approached the entrance to the bar, her feet slowing down to a a few steps before stopping completely.

"You're kidding me." Nat said, a grunt following, watching as Sofia searched through the small clutch that was quite obviously not holding the device, but merely a lipstick or two.

It wasn't there, but Sofia didn't want to have to go all the way back to her apartment for it if she didn't have to. Her eyes looked up at her friend who rolled her eyes right back.

"I'm sorry, Nat– we don't have to go back. It's fine, just make sure to keep an eye on me, please? I don't want to get stolen."

Nat grabbed Sofia's arm before linking them together as they walked through the doors of the building, almost just the answer that Sofia was looking for. The sound of their heels clicked together against the cement in a beautiful harmony– the girl's night out kind of harmony.

"You look incredible tonight so I would take it as a compliment, personally."

The martini bar where they would be meeting Nat's friend and coworker– who Sofia knew to be passionate about the espresso martinis in the city– Niall, was going to meet them on the rooftop bar.

Sofia had only decided to go because this wasn't just a one-on-one meeting with Nat and Niall, but a bunch of other people from Nat's office would be there, as well. Nat had asked if Sofia could tag along, which meant that Sofia was now dressed in some knee-high boots and a black mini skirt that fit like a glove.

Sofia was feisty but introverted; she knew what she wanted and would talk back to those who questioned her. She was excited to meet this friend of Nat's knowing she had talked about him in quite a bright light– even more so because she knew that this could benefit her, too.

"Remember, Niall's bringing that friend of his," She raised her eyes at Sofia, "From what I hear around the office, it's a friend that's quite easy on the eyes. Apparently, his presence at the Christmas party was way better than the shitty gifts our office tried to pawn off too."

Even in her best feeling, highest confidence moments, self-doubt trickled into the conversation.

"So, why do you think he'd even be interested in me? There's going to be so many more people there," Sofia asked. "Plus, how do you know he's my type?"

"I don't know what his type is," Nat looked at her friend as they stepped into the elevator, "But I can't imagine that you wouldn't be, even for a night."

Sofia pulled at the hem of her skirt, but Nat pulled her friend's hand away before giving her that look. The one that Sofia got quite often– it was a look of not just overthinking, but over analyzing any particular scenario that may arise. The elevator they had gotten into stopped on the top floor, the subtle noise of the bar ringing out as they walked along, and back outside.

Subtle breezes of the spring were feeling quite warm as the girls had been wearing skirts. Sofia's being a solid black, a long-sleeve blouse and leather jacket on top. She wore it with her favorite black boots that gave her a bit of height. Her dark hair cascades down her back; dark leather and dark, shiny hair that sparkles when the night light hits it.

The Brooklyn bar was one of Nat's favorites, she had been talking about going out all week. It wasn't that she was trying to get Sofia out of her comfort zone, but she knew that there wasn't anything to lose.

It was about taking chances.

She knew her friend was a good person– she had a sense of humor that not everyone understood but was appreciated by everyone, she had thoughts that bordered every side, and the empathy that she held was something that only a few people could ever relate to.

Nat felt that Sofia was special; Sofia felt she was misunderstood. When Nat had talked about Sofia in the office, Niall had seemingly believed that he had a friend that was quite the same. It was like shooting two stars had both been spotted in the same part of the galaxy.

This wasn't a set-up, if Nat was going to be asked. Instead, it was a coworker get-together that just happened to have eyes and hearts on a particular two. But as she tucked Sofia's hair behind her ears, and handed her a lip gloss for a touch-up, she knew exactly what she was getting her friend into.

"Oh, over there!" Nat had spotted her loudest friend, surrounded by a few others who were laughing at a joke they must've missed. Sofia had a tight smile on her face as they approached the small group; she didn't like meeting new people because she never knew how to start conversations, she just knew how to finish them and walk away.

Nat and Sofia were still linked in their elbows as they approached, Niall immediately noticing the two girls.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, the cocktail– as espresso martini, obviously– was icy in his hands as he gave a soft grin to them. "There you are."

"Here we are," Nat suggested, her eyes moving to the man a step behind Niall at the bar. He was facing the bartender as he seemed to be chatting the guy up, asking for specifics in the cocktail he ordered. He held the small toothpick with an olive in his fingers, twirling it around the glass.

Sofia had noticed him, but her eyes hadn't allowed her to stare too long at his side profile. Even if maybe she wanted to.

"Guys, this is my best friend– this is Sofia, I've talked about her plenty, you all probably know her life story" Nat giggled, before turning to introduce her coworkers, "Fia, this is Niall, Dana, Marie, and–" Her eyes landed on Niall's friend who had joined the conversation with a fresh martini held in his fingers. The way that his hands spread across the glass made Sofia's heart beat quicker than usual, almost skipping a few.

Niall looked back at his friend before introducing, "Sorry, this is my mate, Harry. We went to college together. He just moved to the city a few months back."

Nat bit her lip, Sofia couldn't keep her eyes on him as she felt the blush by just looking at the way his lips molded around the glass as he took a generous sip, before swallowing and nodding.

"Lovely to meet you." The deep voice of the man surprises them.

Sofia is taken by him, their eyes meeting immediately as she watches him shyly smile in her direction. It's a moment where Sofia feels eyes on her as if this was supposed to be more than it was– as if their connection was meant to be electrifying at first glance.

And she wasn't going to deny that there was an electric field that almost made her skin crawl with desire... but she wouldn't admit that.

"Great to meet you," Nat stuck her hand out and he graciously took it with a smile. "Where are you in the city?"

"I actually live around the corner," Harry tells her, his sharp accent is soft but bold– like a dark roasted coffee with cream, "I've been here about six months so I'm starting to really get used to it. Americans are kind of– no offense– bloody rude."

"America is built on colonialism, so I think rudeness is a bit inherent." Sofia stated; it was the quick wit that Nat knew. Her shyness came from within whenever she was able to get a word in, which made Nat smile at her friend's attempt.

Niall made an audible oof sound, holding onto his chest as if hurt by the comment. But Harry just tilted his head as he glared at her with the most subtle grin.

"I'm going to get a drink," Nat interrupted, looking at Niall and their other coworkers as Niall turned to follow her to the bar. Sofia felt her friend leave her side, leaving her standing there as she looked around the rooftop.

The only person standing still was Harry, who had already received his drink and was standing a bit closer to her now, possibly wanting to offer more conversation.

"Are you from here?" Harry offered, taking another small sip from the wide-rimmed glass.

"Uh, no," Sofia shook her head, "I'm originally from France. People think it's a speech impediment, but it's just because my dad refused to speak English at home, so I wasn't really able to practice it a lot, and it left me unable to pronounce my R's well."

Her long dark hair and soft features were gifts from her mother who grew up in Beijing, moving to France when she was eighteen– her father was French and Italian, which left her being a mutt of sorts. It was a mixture of culture and a radiance of knowledge that left her traveling the world at a young age to visit family here and there, but also experiencing everywhere below the surface level.

"Je connais un peu de français," Harry smiles before pinching his fingers together, "juste un peu."

Sofia's eyes lit up, giving her a small smile before she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"I got you this," Nat handed her the orange cocktail that had a small straw, before Sofia handed it back.

"I'm not drinking– I didn't bring my phone, so I don't want something to happen." She shook her head, watching as Nat moved her eyes between her and Harry both.

Nat looked up at Harry with a smile Sofia knew was laced with her own intentions, before handing the drink to him, "Maybe she'll take it if you offer it to her, then."

Harry's brows raised as he held the drink between his fingers, feeling the coldness before he watched Nat walk back through the bar. With the subtle movement, her friend had disappeared once again.

It left the two standing there alone again, which Sofia felt more of the pressure of the set-up currently occurring between the two of them. She wondered how much of this Harry had known, and how much he had been fooled too. The man in front of her was attending, though. He seemed quite intrigued with her, not trying to force his way out of a conversation just because it was a bit uncomfortable.

Harry's lip curled a bit, the smirk on his face becoming a bit more of a blush as he extended his arm to offer the drink back to her as her friend had suggested.

"So, would you like this drink, then?" He bit his lip, hoping that she would at least take this one from him. Her hand steadily took the drink from his fingers as she sheepishly shook her head.

"Sorry about all of them." Sofia muttered out, taking a sip of the cocktail.

When her eyes raised back to him, she noticed that he had been looking at her with an admiration that she wasn't entirely sure she had felt before. It was an honesty, like he had never told a lie, and would never think to.

For the first time in a while, Sofia felt seen– like he had really been taken with her. She stood with her hand wrapped around her drink, looking around at the scenery that surrounded them.

"So, you're French?" Harry licked his lips, his hand moved into his front pocket, the dark pants were fitting him snug, "You grew up there?"

"Oui," Sofia clicked her tongue, "Um, yes and no. We spent half the year in Boston and half in Nice. My dad was a banker, and he did a lot of work overseas. But we traveled with him to stay as a family. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, and she kept my brother and I. During the holiday, we would travel to see my mother's family who still lived in China. We were always on a plane, it felt like."

Harry nodded, listening actively to the story she told of her upbringing. She didn't know why she kept speaking so much, but feeling that he was actively listening made it feel upwardly special and like he didn't have anywhere else to be or anyone else to listen to.

"My last name is Treaveau." She offered him another small detail of her background. It may have also been a small detail that he could keep in his brain for trying to track her down later.

He wasn't looking for an out this time. That felt unusual to him, as he settled on the doe-like eyes mesmerizing him.

"That sounds like a lot. But really incredible." He told her, his words having weight to them like he truly believed that it was incredible. "What brings you to New York, then?"

Sofia took a deep breath as she feels like maybe this isn't the right time to have that discussion. Rather, she wants to keep the conversation as far away from Kendall as possible. But, it was her life story and the parts that she didn't want to discuss were seemingly always there.

But, she decides to just answer it without any further explanation: "I moved here with a partner after college and it just became home. Settled some roots here– my job, friends." With a quick nod, she took another sip to stop her from speaking any more on the topic.

Harry hummed, "I see." He shifted on his weight as he noticed the conversation that looked like it stopped as Sofia's body language pointed out that she was uncomfortable with that question, and, more fittingly, that answer.

He knew that from his interviewing he did, watching as the person in front of him started to redirect their body language or try to look away from him as if that would take the situation away. He knew when asking questions and trying to get a response, body language told it all. If he had one talent, it was being able to read someone– read their facial expressions and the way they interacted with him about it.

Instead, Harry offered a different type of way to ease her nerves.

"Would you like a different drink, then?" Harry asked, his fingers wrapped around the wide mouth of his own martini glass. He could see her eyes flicker as she smiled up at him. "Doesn't seem like you wanted the one your friend gave you."

"Um," Fia answered, a soft giggle, "I think I'm okay. This is fine. Not my preference. Not even really a huge drinker, but when I do, this wouldn't be what I prefer."

Harry hummed, narrowing his brows as he bit on his lip in response to her declining his offer, so he dug a bit deeper into it.

"What do you like, then?" He asked.

She purses her lips, "Long walks on the beach. The offspring of a long island iced tea and a sex on the beach."

Harry felt the edge of his lip tilt up at her quick wit at the ridiculous joke. His blood rushes a bit quicker, before he nods.

"In my part of town, we call them 'sex on long island'," He quickly joked back, the dry humor making her roll her eyes.

Instead, he licked over his lips and tried to make more conversation around her now. "So, why are you here, at a martini bar, if you don't like to drink?" He took a sip of his own, the sweetness of the vodka coating his tongue, "I'm certain there's more fun things for you to do in Brooklyn on a Friday night."

The fact was: she really didn't know why she was there other than she had been convinced it could be fun.

As Nat had persuaded her out of her apartment, she thought of all of the things she could have been doing tonight.

Staying home and watching the new season of Great British Bake Off seemed enjoyable enough, but her extroverted friend pushed further for her to come meet this friend of a friend of a friend– however the connection was. And while she wasn't disappointed– far from it– she couldn't answer his questions without smiling. He pushed back on her attempts at bits of flirting, meeting her at her own game.

"I was told I'd have a good time." She felt herself try to hold back the smile, hoping to make him sweat a bit. But she knew she came off a bit strong; her humor and her lightness didn't mix too well. "Is that an alright answer?"

Harry used his tongue to lick over his bottom lip as he stared up at her with the greenest eyes she had seen. The curls that settled on his forehead were messy, but placed properly. They were quite long, around his neck and shoulders.

The silk of his green shirt under the black blazer seemed like it needed a criminal investigation on the salesperson who sold him it, the longer she stared at him. It was opened to reveal he had tattoos across his collarbone, but not open enough for her to make out the design.

"Sure. You're welcome to make your own choices," he tutted. "Just trying to understand you, that's all."

Sofia rolled her lips into her mouth before she turned to the bartender, asking for a Diet Coke with a hint of lime. Harry smiled at the request, eyes staying on her side profile. She took another sip of her freshly tipped-off drink before returning her eyes to him, sparkling and flirtatious. She noticed the way he paid attention, knowing he wasn't trying to leave.

When she ordered, he nodded towards the bartender, "Put that on my tab."

Sofia looked up at him, shaking her head, "No– really, Harry–"

"I'd like another one of these," Harry smiled at the bartender, pushing his empty martini glass towards them, "Shaken, chilled glass, and filthy."

Her eyes darted to him quickly, but she was ultimately caught. He had already been staring at her. The martini was poured into the chilled glass before Harry thanked the bartender again. He took a sip before they started to move back out of the way, towards a standing table towards the edge of the rooftop. It overlooked down onto the streets; Sofia blinked a few times as she noticed the height, taking herself away from it, and setting her glass on the small table.

There was a breeze; it pushed its way through Harry's long hair settling on his shoulders as he looked towards Manhattan and the skyline that was illuminating the city. Not a patch of darkness in sight.

There was silence– an odd silence, because she knew that there were many people around them, music was playing, the city was below them, but her eyes were fixed on his side profile and the way that he stood in front of her.

Her breath hitched a minute before she let the bold words fall from her mouth. "I-I'd like to talk more about myself over dinner. If you're interested in understanding me, that is. You can ask me, if you want."

When she replayed the words in her head, she wanted to eat them all back and take them out of existence. Not only did they sound completely outrageous, but she knew how egotistical they made her sound.

Harry only stared at her, but his smile kept steady.

"I should, shouldn't I?" His accent rang out as he poked his cheek with his tongue. Her stomach flipped when the dimple in his smile popped. "That's a good idea, Sofia. To ask you to dinner. Why hadn't I thought of that?"

She breathed through her nose with a chuckle, "I didn't mean to sound so-"

"Forward?" He finished her sentence before taking another sip of his drink. The olives bobbed in the glass, his eyes just over the rim. "Something tells me you like being forward, but I think you're being a bit shy with me."

Sofia blinked a few times before she held her shoulders back, pressing away from his conclusion of her. "Where would you take me?"

Harry shook his head with a cocky smile that added blush to her cheeks. "Definitely not a martini bar, I'll tell you that much. What do you like?"

"There's that question again," Fia rolled her eyes, jokingly, but she shrugged her shoulders with no pressure, "Nothing too fancy, I guess."

"I can take you to the best chippy on this side of the Atlantic– up in the Financial District," Harry bites his lip as he tries to chuckle but his teeth bare a smile, "I know the area pretty well– I work up there, actually."

"Will it impress me?" She asks, scrunching her nose a bit.

Harry chuckles but shakes his head, "Don't know– you're very hard to read, so I'm walking on eggshells here. I'm trying to impress you, if that makes a difference"

"You're doing well, I'll tell you that– the only bone I'm going to throw at you, though." Sofia tucks some hair behind her ear as she realizes how hard of a time she's giving him. She takes a small step forward so her hip pops a bit. "I'd love to go to fish and chips with you, but I don't eat fish."

"Course you don't," He shakes his head, "You're killing me, you know."

"We all die eventually, I don't think I'm exacerbating it." Her humor stuck as Harry tilted his head back. Her eyes fell to the way that his curls bounced as they fell back a bit at the motion.

"My goodness," Harry shook his head with that eager smirk, "You're really good at this. And I'd like you to recede your statement because I do think you're exacerbating it. I don't feel as young as I used to."

"Good at standing my ground? Or good at fighting off misogyny while our friends think that I'll just fall into your graces like the start of a silly romance book?"

Harry's dimple popped and Sofia drew in a breath when she noticed how it changed his face. It was such a soft feature that drew away so much animosity and an unrelieved tension that she felt between her thighs.

"I'm sorry– is this not the start of our story?" He questioned her now, watching as she sighed outwardly. "Maybe it's sexist for you to think that you should be the one falling for me– I think I'm the one clearly begging at your feet here."

She liked him. Oh, she really liked him.

She knew instantly that she wasn't the type to take him home, but he was certainly the type that she would make an exception for if he suggested anything. It was a classic question in her own brain; was he just as charming behind closed doors as he was standing there in an open bar with a few drinks already in him? That she wasn't sure about.

But what she did know was that she was slowly watching as his walls were broken with every word she said.

"Is that a line that gets a lot of girls?"

Harry took a moment to stare at her. She shifted her weight, now under his eyes moving between her own as she nibbled on her lip as she waited for an equally witty response.

"I'm very enamored by you, Sofia." He told her softly, curiosity oozing from him.

Sofia tilted her head a bit as she questioned him yet again.

"Enamored or infatuated?" She bit back, but her smile kept her fiercely attractive to him. The energy was just a plus.

"Infatuation would suggest that there's a short-lived passion. I don't believe our story is short-lived," The vodka may have spoken there, but the tint of his blush was illuminating him.

"Oh, is that so?" She teased, leaning against the table then. "What makes you say that?"

Her eyes met his as Harry took in a breath. She couldn't have imagined the man in front of her being any more civil, any more kind to her. He maintained eye contact, blushing as she teased. She hadn't a doubt that he could be like any of the others she had dated in this city.

Something about him felt genuine; it felt like he opened his heart further than she was used to, maybe. She wasn't too sure, because his exterior would suggest he was a bit rugged.

His shoulder length dark curls were tousled and gave her the impression that he hadn't done anything about a haircut on purpose, not for lack of resources. His clean jawline was maintained and structured. But he was dressed well– he knew that he looked good, but without effort which worried her.

But she could tell that he spoke from the heart.

Sofia had no doubt he could have fallen in love easily– could have easily been the love of someone's life. So, in her brain, she wondered what on earth could have been wrong with him. He played the game with her– a game that was usually pushed back on rarely. It was a simple game of cat-and-mouse that only one man in a blue moon would understand.

But Harry kept eye contact, wanting more from her than she had been willing at first.

His body leaned in closer to her, sniffling as he found his footing close enough that he had practically pushed her feet apart with his own so they could be face to face.

"In my mirrorball, I see you and I have the time of our lives and not settling for anything that tells us to stop. I'm a visionary– I'm going to put my cards on the table and let you know what I want." The scent of his cologne flourished around her nose, pushing into her memory.

Sofia stares at the man for a moment when he stops talking, recognizing they had just met, and their connection had created such fire that she was certain it would spread wild.

There was no way that it could've been burnt out then; she watched his eyes follow her, almost obsessed as he stood in front of her, leaning on the rooftop railing.

"You don't even know me, Harry," She shrugged, "And I don't even know your last name."

"That's very true," He finished the last drop of the martini, taking a bite of the olive as he let his smirk take over when he chewed.

"The greatest loves of all time started that way, didn't they, Sofia Treaveau? With a bit of mystery and adventure? Do you need to know my last name to truly fall in love?"

She licked her lips, the taste of vanilla from her lip gloss on her taste buds. She nodded, letting her eyes fall back to him as she noticed a strand of his shouldered locks falling around his cheek as the breeze flew across them.

Her heart burned; the wildfire was spreading at an enormous rate. She had wanted to keep her heart from that feeling, but how addicting it was made her knee knock with his as they stood close.

"Then, I accept," She bites her lip, "I'll be ready tomorrow by seven. No later, or I'll keep the door locked."

Harry tried his best to keep his smile demure, but he knew that the heat of his skin had to be felt by her– the way his heart thumped was that one of a thousand earthquakes.

"I'll be outside your door at six fifty-eight, waiting to take you up the green line like every beautiful woman deserves." He raises his brows with a smirk. "Last week, I saw a rat the size of a raccoon."

Sofia hummed soft before she broke out in a few chuckles. "Wow, I cannot wait to see that– who said romance was dead?"

Harry shook his head with a large smile as he let his eyes soften to the way he looked at her. Sofia seemed the type he'd want to wake up in the morning to see; the type who were kind and subtle at first but open with large thoughts when you were able to chip past the exterior.

"How about I cook you dinner instead? I can come pick you up, we can go to the corner store, and I'll take you back to mine. It's a small place, but I think it may be a bit more..." He trailed off, trying to find the word, "A bit more intimate. And cheaper."

She smirked, looking at the way that his arm rested along the railing before she reached out to brush her hand against his, "So, I'm not worth a fifty dollar seafood platter, then?"

Harry shook his head, "Not if you're going to waste it."

Sofia bit her lip, smiling as she nodded her head. "I think that's a date, then."

Harry took a smaller step closer. "First time you actually said yes to me."

"Don't expect anymore tonight. I don't say yes unless I mean it." She tells him, sipping her coke.

An image quickly runs through his mind as he takes a solid breath in, but he blinks a few times to make sure it leaves so he doesn't get caught. He bit the inside of his cheek to feel some pain to try to get his kind off of how else he could get her to say yes.

Over and over and over–

"So, tomorrow at seven?" She interrupted his thoughts, his eyes meeting hers again.

"I told you," He smirked, "Six fifty-eight. And don't be late coming to the door, either."

Sofia exhaled, knowing the smile hadn't left her lips all evening. It was almost painful at that point; her cheeks hurt and she was a bit worried the blush would be permanent. It was a feeling she knew wouldn't last, but she looked forward to her cheeks hurting just a bit in the morning.

She nodded, "It's a date."

Harry rolled his lips into his mouth before he turned towards the city. He leaned against the railing, staring into the abyss of the lights. He breathed in, heavy, before humming out. Sofia did as he did, standing next to him. She leaned against the railing before tucking some hair behind her ear; the spring breeze gave her a bit of a chill.

"What if I'm a bit impatient?" He said suddenly, pushing away as he held onto the glass railing in front of him.

Sofia turned her head towards him, before she felt his hand on her wrist to request her attention. It was the easiest she had ever been to convince when he led her towards the bar. Their hands fell into place as he requested to pay for the bill, taking his card back.

"Where are we going?" Sofia said, a bit of uncertainty in her voice as she looked around. She didn't want to leave her friend without a bit of a notice– she had no way to get in contact with her.

Harry turned his head up after he signed the receipt, dropping the pen.

"We're leaving," He said, without effort, before taking her hand once again. He hadn't recalled that he had dropped it, but he had missed it. "I know a spot that'll be a bit more... private."

"I can't just leave," Sofia explained, chuckling with a bit of disbelief that he was leading her away, "I have to– I mean, I came with Nat."

Harry turned his head to look around, trying to see if he could find the group that had left them alone. He knew that they had to have been spying on them from another part of the rooftop, but he wasn't able to spot them.

"It doesn't seem that they're around, maybe they left. We'll be back. I'll get you home then you can text her." Harry promised, trying his best to get her to leave with him. He was ready to get out of the atmosphere and move onto seeing something else. He wanted to explore, walk the streets with her.

"Yeah, but," Sofia swallowed, turning her head to try and lay eyes on Nat, just to give her an update. It felt wrong to walk away with someone she barely knew– a bit irresponsible, really. A man, nonetheless. She hadn't felt uncomfortable in the slightest, but she was trying to protect herself.

Harry dug his hands into the front pockets of his pants, standing in front of her, waiting for her to come to a conclusion. His hand moved to her shoulder, giving a soft physical connection before he studied her.

"You can blame me. I take full blame if she freaks out on you." His voice was calm, but it was highlighted with desperation to get her to leave with him– to flee into another world, unknown.

He liked the unknown, which worked in his favor most of the time; it was something that was unagreeable in most of his life. His father would hate when Harry said he hadn't planned for that to happen, or that he hadn't thought of that before. It was just how his mind processed things– and being able to live a life where he didn't have to think about it made Harry feel more inclined to do that behavior out of a rebellion.

Stability was never something Harry needed to feel like he had been doing something right. Most of the time, he looked for spontaneity to keep his mind racing, finding people who were there for a season rather than the long haul. It kept his mind fresh.

"We don't–" Harry started, thinking that this would be how he left her that night. He would leave, telling Niall that it hadn't worked out.

Sofia interrupted, "No, let's."

He stared at her for a moment, looking around before he felt her take his hand that time. She placed her fingers between him, holding them firmly.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked her, looking around at the crowd.

It hadn't occurred to him that he really hadn't seen Niall or any of Niall's friends for a bit, which made him a bit leary that they had moved onto a new spot without them anyways. It would figure as such, because he had known that Niall was going to set him up like this from the moment he had mentioned the words 'and this girl is coming'.

Harry didn't do much dating– it hadn't interested him. Talking and getting to know people was the most extent that he went through, which was fine to him. If he ever brought a girl home, it was always going to be for her best interest. Maybe she was going to try and get home but was alone and too drunk– half the time Harry just took her home so she'd be somewhere safe.

But there was a light about Sofia that allowed his mind to wander about the possibilities of what it would be like if she was around– in his space, in his aura.

There was a great deal of satisfaction and happy wonder that came with those thoughts.

Sofia had breathed out, pulling his hand closer to her as they started to walk towards the elevator on the way down. When it dinged, the two of them stepped into the small space to head back down onto the streets.

The vibrant hum of the city greeted them when they made their way back out of the tall building—distant cars rushing by, the occasional burst of laughter from late-night revelers, and the soft rustle of trees stirred by a gentle breeze. The air was cool, carrying with it the smell of distant rain and the earthy scent of summer that felt so far away. Sofia inhaled deeply, savoring the moment, feeling the weight of the crowded rooftop bar lifting from her shoulders.

The streets weren't deserted, but they were limited to the night dwellers now; the amount of bars around this particular area were sparse.

Harry walked beside her, his hands tucked into his pockets now that they had released their hands from one another, a relaxed smile playing on his lips.

"See? Isn't this better?" he asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Their pace had a slow marvel to it, the sound of her clicking heels echoed through the narrow sidewalks.

She looked over, a small smile forming. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you were right."

They wandered through the streets in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps keeping time with the quiet energy of the city around them. Every now and then, Sofia would catch Harry glancing over at her, but he didn't push the conversation especially when they both seemed to find a bit of satisfaction in the quietness.

He seemed content just to be walking, taking it all in. It was something she liked about him—his ability to be present without needing to fill the silence.

After a few blocks, neither of them had made a solid suggestion on where to go or where they had been heading, they found themselves in front of a small park nestled between two buildings. It was a quiet spot, they had noticed that a person was walking their dog, with a few benches and a street light casting a warm glow over the cobblestone path into the small corridor.

Harry stopped, gesturing toward one of the black, metal benches. "Want to just sit for a minute?"

Sofia nodded, and they sat down side by side, the city stretching out before them but feeling a world away from the noise and lights of the rooftop bar. She leaned back against the bench, her body relaxing further with each breath.

"Tell me something," Harry said, breaking the silence, his voice soft but curious.

She turned to look at him. "Like what?"

"Something you don't normally share," he replied, his tone easy but genuine. "Something about you."

Sofia raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on her face. "Why do I feel like this is one of those questions that ends with you telling me something poetic?"

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'll tell you something poetic, sure. But you first."

She considered it for a moment, unsure where to begin or what she could say to this stranger sitting next to her that had a lingering smell of vanilla and tobacco. It wasn't often that someone asked her to share something real, something beyond the surface-level conversations she usually had with people.

With Harry, though, it felt... safe. His attention to her never dwindled, it never made her feel stared at or under a microscope. It made her feel... looked after. Listened to.

She fidgeted with her fingers for a minute before she took in a deep breath, trying to imagine what she could say to him in this moment that would ultimately feel worthwhile. Something that would allow their time together to be meaningful. The sound of the leaves in the night breeze took her focus for a moment.

"I guess... I don't always feel very confident and comfortable," she said after a pause. "Like, I put on this front—smiling, laughing, having fun," She looks at her hands in her lap, "Going to martini bars with my friend when I really just wanted to stay home and watch Great British Bake Off. But sometimes, it's not really how I feel. Sometimes I'm just... faking it to make it easier for myself." She glanced away, surprised at her own honesty, but she felt a weight lift as soon as she said the words.

Harry didn't respond right away, just nodded slowly, taking in what she'd said. "I get that," he said after a beat. "It's hard to let people in, isn't it? To show them the stuff beneath the surface."

She met his eyes again, a quiet understanding passing between them. "Yeah," she murmured. "I guess it is."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the space between them.

Then Harry shifted to make it so he was turned towards her a little more, his eyes searching hers, his voice softening. "You know, I probably would have chosen Great British Bake Off, too." He bites his lip with an urgent smirk trying not to overpower him, "But I could take you to get a box of biscuits and it might give you the same feeling."

Sofia's breath caught slightly at his words, at the sincerity in his voice but the same goofiness she was trying to stop herself from blushing at. It was as if he could see right through the mask she wore, and yet, instead of being afraid or pushing her away, he seemed to lean in closer, making her feel comfortable.

"Okay, well, now it's your turn," she said, her voice light but her heart racing a little from the vulnerability hanging in the air.

Harry smiled, looking down for a moment, like he was gathering his thoughts. He clicked his tongue, analyzing what was behind his brain. When he spoke again, his voice was low and thoughtful.

"Alright. Here's something... I guess I've always had this thing about time. I feel like I'm always trying to make the most of it, like it's slipping away too fast. Maybe that's why I wanted to leave the bar earlier. I hate wasting time and just standing around, especially when I feel like there's something more out there, something better. I don't want to miss out on it."

Sofia watched him, feeling a sense of quiet understanding settle between them. "That's why you wanted to leave," she repeated, the words soft as they fell from her lips.

Harry nodded, his gaze steady on hers. "Yeah. And," He shrugged, "Because I wanted to be with you. Just... you."

Her heart did a small, unexpected flip at his words, the weight of them settling deep within her. There was no pretense with Harry, no games or lines. Just truth. And it made her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time—safe, but also seen.

She smiled, a small but genuine smile, and leaned back against the bench. "I'm glad we left," She told him, "And that was very poetic."

"Me too." Harry said, his voice quiet but filled with meaning, "And I thought you'd like that."

He took in a breath as he watched her pull her jacket around her middle. It was a bit colder than he expected it to be, thankful that he had brought the blazer too. Harry chewed on his lip for a moment, pushing the hair from his face.

"You hungry?" Harry asked, noticing the way she hugged herself against the breeze. It may have been a way to get her out of the air, too. "There's a bodega down there. Best late-night snack spot in the neighborhood."

Sofia chuckled. "I guess I'm a little hungry, sure, but I don't trust bodegas unless it's the guy at the end of my block."

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it," he said with a grin. "They have the best sandwiches in the city. And I think I need something to balance all the vodka and olive juice currently swimming around in my system."

She smirked, the idea suddenly sounding perfect. "Alright, then, lead the way to the best sandwich in the city," She stood up, following in his lead, "I don't think the best sandwich is in Williamsburg, but I will try and trust you."

"Have I been wrong at any time tonight?" Harry asked, shoving his hands into his pocket again.

Sofia thought for a moment, shaking her head, "Guess not. But there's still time."

Harry rolled his eyes playfully before knocking his shoulder against hers. "So, you're saying you're ready for a full night, then? It's only," He looked at the watch on his wrist, "Watch says eleven-thirty, but I think I could fill our time for the next six hours, at least."

"The longer I'm around you, the more time I have to search for when you're wrong." She pointed out, her hands in her jacket pocket. "So I would be very careful with your time with me."

Harry hummed, "Well, that's too bad," He shook his head, "I was looking forward to spending time with you. I'm having a good time."

Sofia felt her heart flutter a skip as she tried her best not to turn her head to meet his eyes. She knew if she would, she wouldn't be able to contain herself– holding back the smirk was just enough.

"I am too." She agreed, giving him the comfort and satisfaction she would have needed, too.

They continued walking, the glow of the bodega's neon Open 24 Hours sign drawing them in like a beacon– only the 4 had been burnt out; Harry pointed it out with a chuckle. The place was small and cramped, with shelves stocked high with every kind of snack imaginable, and the smell of deli meat and fresh bread filled the air.

A New York specialty.

"This is very classy," Sofia teased as they stepped inside, the pointed-toe boots clicking against the dirty tile, the bell above the door jingling softly.

Harry shot her a look of mock indignation. "Just wait. You'll see," He pushed the hair from his eyes, "The Queen of England recommended this place to me, actually. So I'd be careful with your mocking tone."

"Was this her last meal?" Sofia joked, which made small crinkles by Harry's eyes as he felt himself laugh quite hard at her dry humor.

He licked his lips, "Yes, actually. The Philly cheesesteak was her dying wish."

"Are we sure it's not what," Sofia whispered, pretending to cut her neck in an attempt to mimic out what she meant. "You know, offed her."

Harry's eyes widened, "That hasn't been disclosed, but I think you may be onto something."

He led her to the counter, where an older man with a thick mustache and equally thick accent greeted them.

"Hey, Pauly," Harry greeted the man, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked at the menu that very well could have been a novel with the amount of writing that was on it. He squinted, trying to read it as Sofia tried her best not to be overwhelmed with the options.

"Late night?" The man asked, eyeing them with the knowing look of someone used to night owls wandering in after hours.

"The only kind of night I have." Harry replied, already scanning the menu board hanging overhead. "Can we get two of the specials, extra pickles on both, with tiger sauce and chips on top– well, fries, I guess."

Sofia raised an eyebrow at his order combo, biting her lip at the crazy menu item.

"You'll thank me later," Harry said, flashing her a grin before a thought popped into his head which erased the smile, "You're not vegan, are you?"

Sofia shook her head with a laugh, "No– no, I'm not. This may turn me vegan, though."

As the man prepared their sandwiches, they wandered down one of the narrow aisles, picking out a couple of drinks– Harry went with an Arnold Palmer, Sofia got a ginger ale out of the fridge that had burnt out lights. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a soft, familiar glow over everything. It felt almost like a private moment, even though the world around them carried on.

When the sandwiches were ready, Harry paid for their meal and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter to go along with the meal. He thanked Paul generously before he led the way and pushed out of the small store with a brown paper bag in his hands. The lights of the streets were dim; the roads were slow and calm.

The night had grown even quieter, with only the distant sounds of the city lingering in the air. Harry had moved a few feet down, settling himself on a front stoop before Sofia watched him with surprise.

"We're just going to sit here?" She asked him, looking up at the door, knowing that this was someone's home. "I think this is considered loitering."

"Is that an issue?" He asked, pulling a sandwich out wrapped in foil, and handing it over to her. "We're just eating quickly, I'm starving," He scooted over a bit on the stoop, "You can sit."

Sofia felt a burning sensation in her chest when their shoulders touched; there was an electric force that ran through her body as they touched. She took the sandwich from his hands, opening it and noticing the mess that was about to ensue.

When she turned to Harry, he had already taken a bit before throwing his head back in a pleasurable sensation, "Fuck, that's good. So needed."

Sofia felt her cheeks turn hot at his reaction, not wanting to comment further on it because she was afraid of what would happen if he caught her staring at him. Instead, she unwrapped her own sandwich, tucking her hair behind her ears to get it out of her face before she took a bite of her own.

It was truly one of the best sandwiches she'd ever had in her life– she could feel the way that Harry stared at her as she tried to interpret her thoughts, nodding a bit as she covered her mouth.

"Okay, I'll admit it," she said, covering her mouth as she spoke between bites. "This is really good."

"Told you," Harry replied, taking a bite of his own. "You've got to trust me on these things."

There was the silence, again. She felt it as they sat and ate their meal, shoulder to shoulder. Harry ate his rather fast, crumbling up the foil and the paper before he wiped his hands with a napkin and threw it all back into the brown paper bag. Sofia finished hers up too; he took her trash from her without asking, before throwing it in the house's garbage can closest to them.

"I should be getting home soon," Sofia told him quietly as they sat on the stoop.

She watched Harry digging into his blazer pocket and pulling out the cigarettes and lighter he had just purchased at the bodega. His hands slipped a cigarette out of the container before he lit it and took a drag.

"I can help you get you there," Harry told her softly, "I'll follow your lead, then."

They meandered slowly toward Sofia's apartment, the food warming them from the inside out as they found themselves in a slower pace than even previously before. Sofia had never taken the time to study the streets, the trees and the neighborhood around her. There was something so simple and intimate about it—walking together in the quiet of the city, sharing bites of their sandwiches and laughing about little things, the world around them fading into the background.

Harry cracked a few jokes, asking her simple questions about what she did for work and what she thought about climate change. He asked her about her life and her family's ties to Asia and she told him about how her favorite animal was a frog and she thought they were misunderstood.

As they turned onto her street, Sofia slowed her pace, feeling a mix of contentment and something else—something she couldn't quite name. Her apartment was just a few steps away now, but she wasn't ready for the night to end even just hours before she wanted it to be over as soon as it had started.

"This is me," she said softly as they reached the front of her building, a modest but charming old brownstone nestled between two larger apartment complexes. It had a couple of steps before it led into a few cut apartments.

Harry stopped beside her, his eyes lingering on the building for a moment before returning to her. "Nice place."

"Yeah, it's home," she said, smiling as she looked up at the familiar windows. She pulled the strap of her bag on her shoulder as she awkwardly moved to stand in front of Harry. He was taller than her, his hair hanging on his shoulders as he stared up at the building. His hands were pressed into his pockets as he stood with a careless nature about him.

But then Harry seemed to hesitate, his expression shifting slightly, like he was trying to read the air between them. He stepped a little closer, his voice soft and steady. "I don't know about you, but I had a great time tonight."

Sofia felt a warmth spread through her at his words, the sincerity in them making her heart beat a little faster. "Me too," she said quietly, meeting his gaze. "I'm glad we left the bar."

He smiled, a small, almost knowing smile. "Yeah," He bit his lip, "Me too."

The silence between them stretched, comfortable but charged, as if the night had been building up to this quiet moment. Sofia found herself standing a little closer to him, their bodies just inches apart now, the space between them humming with unspoken possibilities.

Harry broke the silence first, his voice a little lower now. "So, are we still on for tomorrow, then?"

Sofia's smile lingered as she looked up at him, her chest tightening in the best way possible. "Maybe," she teased lightly. "Depends if you can find something better than those sandwiches."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head slightly, but there was something softer in his eyes now, something more serious beneath the humor. He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "I'll take my chances."

For a brief moment, neither of them moved, the world around them completely still. Sofia could feel her pulse quickening, the space between them almost nonexistent now. It felt like they were the only two in the world now– silence around them, no cars on the streets, no people on the sidewalks.

Until a few raindrops hit her nose softly; her focus was taken from him, looking up at the sky as she noticed that it had started to rain, raindrops falling above them in an early spring shower.

And then, before she could second-guess herself, Sofia stood on her tiptoes and kissed him—just a light, fleeting kiss, the kind that hinted at something more but was gentle and sweet for what it was. When she pulled back, Harry's eyes were still closed for a second, his lips curved into a surprised but satisfied smile.

"Well," he said softly, opening his eyes and looking down at her with that familiar spark of mischief, "that was unexpected."

Sofia grinned, feeling a little breathless. "Guess you should start expecting the unexpected."

Harry laughed, his voice warm and full of something Sofia couldn't quite place but liked all the same. "I'm starting to get that."

They stood there for a moment longer, the quiet settling back in around them. Then Sofia took a step back, before she took hold of the railing up the steps and towards the door to her building, "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Sofia," he said, still smiling as she slipped inside.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Sofia leaned against it for a moment, her heart still racing from the kiss, from the way the night had unfolded so unexpectedly. She couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop thinking about Harry and the way he'd made everything feel... easy. She hadn't felt that way in some time.

She hadn't felt security like that in a person in quite a while.

After Sofia had walked through the door, Harry had come to the conclusion that he hadn't even asked the simple question of getting her phone number. He raced up the steps, taking two at a time, before knocking on the door that had simply locked behind her. Sofia's attention grabbed as she looked at him through the glass of the front door that sat between them.

When she went to open it, she was hesitant about what he could have been wanting.

"Need something so soon?" She joked.

"Yeah," He grabbed his phone before handing it in her direction, "I realized I didn't get your number– figure maybe, I don't know– like it feels like we had a good time and maybe I'll text you in the morning."

There was a sense of nervousness that Sofia had felt from the interaction, almost like now that he was standing in front of her he was a bit embarrassed by the urgency that he had felt to knock back on the door when he would be back here in less than 24 hours.

She blinked a few times before she shook her head, "I'm– I'm sorry, I don't just give my number out," It was a rule she had put in place for herself because she knew how many times she sat around wondering when someone would text her. It was a part of her confidence that she didn't want to ruin, especially with the way she was feeling about Harry now.

Digging into her purse, she found a lip liner that was a dark shade of brown before handing it to him. Harry took it with a bit of confusion before Sofia pulled her jacket off of her shoulders to expose her forearm.

"You can write yours down, though," She offered, watching as he held the pencil in his hands. His fingers slipped around the small item, pulling off the cap before writing the 10-digits on her forearm. A small 'x' followed after it before he topped the pencil with the cap and handed it back to her.

"You have to promise to text me," He smirked, "Because I don't know that I can live with the embarrassment, if I'm honest."

Sofia held the jacket on her arm, trying to make sure that it dried down, not smudging.

"I know how it feels to be embarrassed like that– so you have nothing to worry about." Her voice was soft as she stared at him, looking at the way that he held himself between the door and the frame.

"Great," He nodded, feeling excited by her sincerity, "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight." Sofia said again, a soft tone in her voice as she watched Harry shut the door behind himself. Her breathing became far more rapid as she was able to let go of the breath she felt like her chest had been holding.

And as she climbed the stairs to her apartment, she knew this wasn't the end of the night– her brain was far too engulfed in the events of the night for her to fall asleep now. It felt more like the beginning of something new. Something she hadn't quite been expecting—but now, couldn't wait to see unfold.

Spring had a way of creeping in unnoticed, a quiet promise beneath the chill of lingering winter air. Just like the way Harry had slipped into Sofia's life—unexpected, but inevitable, like the first bloom pushing through thawing ground. Their meeting felt like the start of something new, the kind of newness that hummed beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to emerge, to be felt in full.

The city around them mirrored the changing season, shaking off its cold, gray layers and coming to life again. Streets that had been barren now buzzed with the energy of renewal, of second chances.

And in the same way that spring awakens the world with its subtle touch, Sofia found herself waking up to something she hadn't realized she was missing. With every conversation, every shared glance, Harry became like the warmth of the sun after a long winter—steady, inevitable, drawing her out of the quiet hibernation of her own guarded heart.

The warmth of the sunshine was a gift to her cold, unwilling heart.

As she made her way to her room, she passed by Nat's room, seeing that the door was open and the light was on. The clicking of her heels would give her away immediately– and did, as Nat ran towards the doorway. The smile on her face told her everything she needed to know.

"Tell me everything." Nat demanded, but Sofia just shook her head, making her way past her door and into her own bedroom. Not a word more; keeping it to herself felt like the only way to make sure that it had been real.

As she laid back on her bed, the smile never faltered. Her heart never stopped beating at the highest rate– she felt she could become sick with every thought of him. The way he smelled, the way his green eyes shone in the dim streetlights, the way he walked, talked, pondered through his way of life.

The forgotten phone had been laying on her small vanity; she grabbed it, putting his number in quickly before writing out a small message– a photo of her arm included.

Sofia: Guess who?

Only a few seconds went by; he had been waiting for her number to pop-up. Harry had settled himself on the curb only a block away, waiting to see if he would hear from her. When the message from the unknown number came up, he couldn't believe it.

It made him smile, made his fingers shake with anticipation as he lit another cigarette.

Harry: I know it can't be Your Majesty, the Queen. She died eating a bodega cheesesteak. RIP.

Harry: I hope it's someone named Sophia.

Sofia rolled her eyes, but felt the satisfaction laying deep within her.

Sofia: Ooof. Minus 3 points. I spell it with an F. Sofia.

Harry: God fucking damnit. Of course you do.

He drug the smoke of the cigarette, watching as her message came up. When it did, he stared at it, wanting so badly for the night to replay over and over and over again. It was an inevitable feeling that he hadn't truly felt in a long time.

Sofia: Looks like I end the night with you finally being wrong... victory is so sweet.

Sofia: Goodnight :)

___________

Harry hadn't felt the way he felt at the moment in quite some time. It had been a while since there was a pep in his step rather than a drag of his feet. It felt good to be able to look forward to something, and he had been looking forward to this since he shut the door behind him at Sofia's apartment last night.

He looked forward to being able to see her again. Even in that one night, he had felt that there was an immediate connection. Some may call him crazy– but being a hopeless romantic did that sort of thing. It enabled you to make decisions and think about the future in a way that didn't make any sense.

The walk to her apartment, from what he had gathered using his phone map, was quite close to where his apartment was settled now. They both lived in Brooklyn, which made getting to her a lot easier. He wasn't sure if she lived alone or with roommates; Harry did, though, which made him happy to know that they would be going back to his place. While their spaces weren't entirely large or spacious, he knew that he didn't have any reason to be nervous to show her what he had.

Harry had a one-bedroom, practically a studio as his bedroom door didn't shut entirely. He kept it open most of the time, since it was just him.

When he had approached the door to her apartment building, he texted her a quick message to let her know that he was outside. The day was a bit cloudy, there had been some rain the evening prior once they had left the rooftop bar– thankfully, afterwards, and not during. The spring air was rolling through New York, but it still had hints of chill in the air.

Harry wore a dark flannel shirt overtop of a plain white shirt that had a few buttons down the middle. His black jeans and Nike trainers were a bit rugged, as he was one to wear down his clothes quite well. He didn't like the feeling of new clothing, it was a bit too constricting. To his body and to his wallet.

It wasn't that he struggled with money– he didn't, really. His family helped him with a few things while he was just starting out his career. But there were certainly incidentals that Harry's eyes widened at when he saw the bills coming in the mail. It was a strict, harsh reality whenever he realized that the freelance gig of journalism needed to come to a close. He needed to really settle with a company rather than the continuation of contracting positions.

It wasn't helpful to know that his income was a bit of a harsh topic with family, he knew how it would impact him in the future. He was twenty-seven now, with a whole world ahead of him. He was a bachelor– for the moment, at least. He was having fun and able to figure these things out now. He didn't want to have to settle down or to put pressure where there wasn't any.

It was okay now– it felt fine.

When Sofia popped out of the door, he gave a quick glance at the effortless look of her. She was wearing a long-sleeved button down, a steel blue, with a pair of denim that hugged her closely. A pair of white trainers on her feet, as she came out of the building with a bag over her shoulder and a hairclip pinning back the dark locks from her face. The make-up was practically blush and a bit of chapstick; she looked like she hadn't tried at all, which made his heart skip a beat at the idea she wasn't nervous. It made him twice as much.

She sounded a bit out of breath as she approached him, her smile the same as the night before.

"Hi," He said quietly, watching as her eyes trailed over him.

"I think it's seven," Sofia looked at the pretty, gold watch that settled on her wrist, "It's seven twelve."

Harry pursed his lips as he grabbed the cellphone from his back pocket. He gave a once over to the message that he sent her before pointing out the time that the message was sent.

"Six fifty-eight, I believe." He smirked before he watched her cross her arms with a playful eyebrow raise. "I told you that you'd be the late one, not me. Probably spraying some perfume and making sure your hair was perfect for me. And it is, so I forgive you for being so late because you look very beautiful."

Sofia hummed, "I guess I'll let you off the hook since you said I looked beautiful," When she smiled, there was a small dimple at the base of her chin as she looked back at him with her deep brown eyes that had small, feathered out lashes, "You don't look so bad yourself."

"Appreciated." He told her before he turned on his foot.

They were heading down the street to one of his favorite local grocery stores. It wasn't a place that he shopped often, really only when he was trying to impress someone because their selection was quite niche and for restaurateurs who were looking to elevate their dishes.

Their small talk went from one part of the planet to the other, talking about her favorite bagel place that she would get a macchiato from on rainy mornings or a pizza shop that Harry had on his list to go to but hadn't yet.

When they reached the store, Harry grabbed a basket at the front before they walked into it and Sofia looked around.

"I've never been here," She commented softly. A small amount of radio played in the background as Harry smiled at the cashier that he had recognized.

"I come here when I'm looking for gold," Harry grabbed a few peppers from the vegetable stand before he mulled over the zucchini and eggplant.

Sofia grabbed a bottle of red wine from one of the shelves across the way, placing it in the basket. Harry looked down and smirked at her before she started to walk away, obviously filling the basket with her own priorities.

"Thought you didn't drink?" Harry questioned, placing an eggplant in the basket before following her towards the back a bit.

"I don't," She shrugged, "But I like the idea of you taking me to your apartment to cook me dinner while we each hold a glass of red wine and talk about first-world problems. Like how we have an obstructed view from our tiny apartments, but then you show me the fire escape where you sit and have a cigarette every once in a while."

Harry grinned to himself as he placed some garlic and a can of tomato paste in the basket, still perusing the shelves.

"That sounds like a particular experience. I don't know if that's how it's going to go," He shrugs, "But I can definitely show you the front stoop where I smoke my cigarettes at three AM when I get home from the bars. It may not have the best view, but I think it's charming."

Sofia turned her head, nodding. She grabbed a small block of gouda, placing it in the basket and Harry continued to smile as she felt comfortable enough to add her items to his order. It was kind of cute, in a way, he thought.

It meant she felt comfortable enough with him, and he liked that their chemistry had led them here.

Once they were finished shopping, he had gathered the items at the counter in two paper bags, one on each arm before Sofia pushed the door open for his ease. They had moved in the opposite direction than they had just come, so that Harry could lead them back to his place instead.

"You haven't really told me what you're making me," She eyed him, "Should I be surprised?"

Harry rolled his lips in his mouth before he shook his head and gave her a small smile, "Don't believe so. I think it's actually quite predictable, but it's one of the best things I make, which is just strictly to impress you because you are very hard to impress."

Sofia chuckled a bit as she placed her hands in her back pockets as they walked. "No, I'm just particular and want to make sure that I'm choosing wisely."

"Some may call that picky." Harry looked at her, holding the bags against his sides as he teased her.

Their conversation was easy and flowed, but she felt appreciated that he was able to do so. She hoped that he held tough conversations just as well, without the jokes or the teasing elements.

This was just her way of coping– to make sure that all conversations were light and held together with a piece of beautiful ribbon. Once the ribbon was undone, nothing was pretty anymore. Conversations that weren't held together were messy and unkempt; it was an element of relationships that she hated because she had run from them so often. Her family dynamic felt that way half of the time.

"Fine, you caught me," She shook her head, "I'm picky. But that should boost your ego quite a bit."

"Trust me," Harry told her, nudging her shoulder a bit to get her to turn right down one of the streets, "My ego is fucking over the moon as I get to walk down the street with you right now."

"Oh, please," She rolled her eyes, matching his smile as he nodded undoubtedly. "That's a bit dramatic."

They reached Harry's apartment building; it looked quite similar to some of the townhouses, but Harry walked right into the door as he unlocked it. It had a long staircase as they walked into the front area, it was quite dark when they arrived before Harry nudged her to go up the steps.

"It's the first door on the left." Harry told her before they walked up the small building before Sofia took one of the bags from his arms so that he could unlock the door properly.

Once inside, Harry threw the keys in the small dish by the door before he tread inside. Sofia closed the door behind her, taking in the area before placing the grocery bag on the small kitchen island inside. It was a small apartment, a bit bigger than hers. She liked that it had natural lighting, that it didn't feel dark. She liked that Harry had a sense of style, an element of cleanliness that most of the men she dated didn't seem to have.

It was a solid apartment with warm lighting and felt safe to her, in a way. But there may have been other elements present that kept her feeling that way.

"Would you like some wine, then, so I can explain to you about my front stoop?" Harry offered as he pulled the bottle from the bag. He examined it for a moment before giving a nod of approval as he took two glasses from his cabinet.

"Only if I can see your obstructed view first."

He placed them on the counter, using a corkscrew, and removing the cork out before handing it to Sofia.

"Hopefully you like this because it was twenty-seven dollars and you're picky." He cheered towards her, raising his glass a bit before he took a small sip.

"Cheers." She started softly with a giggle before taking a sip. It was a quite bold red wine, but something about it made her tongue salivate when she held it in her mouth. She felt Harry look at her with a lop-sided grin as she hummed to herself.

"Think I could've gone with the sixty dollar bottle," She told him, watching him shake his head.

Sofia wandered around the small apartment as Harry started to prepare the dinner. He threw a towel over his shoulder as he started to chop some vegetables rather precisely. She noticed the photos of him, the way that he kept memories around his apartment like he wanted to fill it with every ounce of who he was. She was rather impressed by it, knowing that she could've just gotten all of his information from walking around the living room a few times.

Her eyes peaked into his bedroom as the door had been open; Harry caught her.

"Interested?" He asked, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the dimpled smile that kept onto the tray of vegetables he had been chopping. He had returned to looking at his task rather than her, but his eyes lifted back to notice that she was slowly making her way around.

"I am quite interested in how old that blue comforter is and if that's one from an old college dorm room." Sofia started with a plain face before Harry acted as if it had knocked him back off of his feet. "Because if it is, I don't believe I am interested, no."

"Damn," He shook his head, "That hit me where it hurt."

Sofia shook her head, "You didn't answer which means it's not the answer I want to hear, either."

Harry wiped his fingers on the towel on his shoulders as he grabbed a baking dish and started to lay a layer of sauce on the bottom of it, before quickly arranging the chopped vegetables. Sofia sat on a stool at the small island, one of two that were there. They were mixed-match, which made her smile as she took another sip of the wine before she realized what he was doing.

Her eyes trailed him as he concentrated on how to place the pieces neatly.

"Are you," She squinted at him before he looked at what he had been doing, to her, "I told you I grew up in France and you decided to make me ratatouille?"

Harry shrugged as if a bit offended by her reaction to him, "It's a meal based off of one of the most critically-acclaimed films of our generation, so I think you may be jumping the gun a bit with thinking it's always about you."

Sofia swirled the red wine in her glass before she looked at Harry, "You think they named the meal after the film? The cartoon about a rat?"

"Put some honor on his name– Remy." Harry's sense of humor echoed as he tried to keep a straight face before he bit into one of raw peppers that hadn't fit into the dish.

"And you should know, I'm making this for you because it's the meal that got me to be featured in The Sunday Times once in college. I wrote a review about this restaurant in London that I went to as an intern and it was the first time I really felt like," Harry swirled his own wine around as he tried to think of the emotions that came with that small feat. "I really felt like I had made it. I was in a big city, I was doing cool stuff. It was just one of those things that brought a lot of comfort to this meal and it's one that I make sometimes just to really," He thought for a moment, "Don't know– remember that I'm doing well. And that I'm happy."

It was a moment that Sofia had not really been prepared for, as she hadn't seen that soft, kinder side to Harry. They were being playful, they were flirty and harmless– but something about his words made her listen harder. He was proud of himself for an accomplishment, and she nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'm sure that was a huge deal for you," She nibbled at her lip, tasting the cherry red wine, "Is food what you write about mostly?"

Harry hummed to himself as he thought of her question, "Yes and no," He told her, "I'm a contracted freelance writer at the moment, which means I'm working at this magazine for six months and then they can directly hire me or let me go. It just depends, but I'm not super worried about it."

Harry stuck the dish into the oven, setting a timer on his phone before he threw the towel onto the island. He took the glass by the stem, moving towards the small living room space that was only a few feet ahead of them.

"But yeah, I mostly write about restaurants, the food industry, and the service industry. It's a field that interests me– I want to travel more and learn how to cook different cuisines, but I don't know. I guess the world is at my fingertips, and I always keep it a steady distance so I don't go too overboard with my dreams."

"You have a very wise way with your words, Harry." Sofia's voice was petite, her words were feeling heavy on her tongue as she realized how much the wine had started to take over her. She didn't know how to feel, but she knew that she felt good. She felt ultimately warm and composed gratitude that she was feeling safe in this space with a man.

That wasn't always the case. Her eyes were always on the door, always looking for a way out because that felt safe. That felt more secure than staying. Sofia had one foot out the door at all times because that was the only way she knew how to be.

"I'd hope so," He told her, "How else am I supposed to keep buying you fancy dinners and wines if I don't have a career? I think I need words to keep going on that."

She smirked, "You've already made this a more-than-once kind of thing?"

Harry leaned against the counter, holding his hands on it as he stared at her and nodded a few times. "I don't think this feels like something I want to stop right now," His honesty is refreshing, "Unless you take a bite of the dinner and absolutely hate it, then we might have to part ways."

Sofia finished the rest of her wine, draining the glass before she set it down on the countertop. She removed herself from the stool she had been sitting in before making her way to the small couch that sat against the wall in his tiny living room.

She noticed the stacks of books and DVDs that covered the wall, her eyes moving over them. They told a story of who he was, what he consumed. She settled onto the couch, feeling his presence behind her as he moved to do the same.

They discussed their time in the city; what each of them liked the most about it, what they despised. She told him about her days in college– she had attended a small state school right outside of Boston, where she had grown up mostly. Her high school years were spent in the United States, mostly. She was a good student, she loved learning. Her dreams of being an event planner were more than anything college could have taught her, and she realized that when she started to really make life decisions.

It was when she met Kendall that things had started to take a turn; it was then that her dreams and her hobbies were met with cynicism, not hope. She wanted to start her own business, to create special moments for people who needed that extra bit of joy in their life. Planning parties, birthdays, holidays, celebrations– these were moments in people's lives that made it exciting to be a human being.

It was nice to celebrate being alive every once in a while in a small gesture of kindness, and she loved being a part of that for people.

But her partner was unsupportive, he was pessimistic about that being a career path that would help them advance into the world that they wanted to live in. Sofia didn't come from money– her family was very middle class, but was given the opportunity to travel. They didn't have expensive things, they had memories. They had each other, and that was worth much more than the luxury items that Kendall was used to.

She couldn't help him live the life that he wanted to live because she wasn't making the income that he was. But she was happy. She was excited to go to work everyday. That was the difference, she felt. She had an okay apartment, she had okay clothes and items that worked to the best of their ability– Sofia was living a life that she had wanted, finally.

And something about the used couch, the broken spines of novels that lined the walls, and the mix-matched items that sprawled around Harry's apartment told Sofia that he had the same values that she did.

Harry shared about his working-class family back in England and how they were proud of him, but they also left more to be desired when it came to support. They had told him to stay in London for a bit longer, possibly climb the career ladder in England, instead. But Harry wanted to be more than that, he wanted to take chances.

His father called him irresponsible, his mother had told him that she was angry with his choices to move abroad. They still loved him– maybe that was why it hurt so much more when they said those things about what he was looking for. It may have been quite irresponsible, but Harry knew what he wanted and was going to try to make it work.

If it didn't work, he would have to pick a different path. It wasn't that hard to navigate life when it was just yourself you have to worry about, though.

The smell of roasted vegetables and herbs filled Harry's small apartment, a warm and inviting contrast to the crisp evening air outside. The countertop with his stools was set simply, two plates and glasses of wine, but it felt cozy, intimate. Sofia sat on the couch, watching as Harry moved around the kitchen to try and make sure everything was ready.

"So, ratatouille, huh?" she called over to him, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Didn't realize you were aiming for Michelin stars tonight."

Harry grinned, stirring the pot on the stove. "Hey, I've got hidden talents. Just wait 'til you try it. You'll be saying "Yes, Chef" by the end of the night."

Sofia snorted, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I highly doubt that, but I appreciate the enthusiasm. What is it they say? Confidence is half the battle?"

Harry turned around, giving her a playful look. "Confidence and a really good recipe, which, for the record, I stole from my grandmother. So if you don't like it, you're basically insulting a sweet old lady."

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Nice try. Don't think I won't tell her the truth."

He shook his head, ladling the ratatouille onto their plates with a flourish. "Okay, Gordon Ramsey. You're gonna love it. Or at the very least, pretend you do to spare my feelings."

A moment later, he carried the plates over to the tabletop and set them down with an exaggerated bow. "Your dinner, madame," he said in an overly formal voice, pulling out the random barstool that made him laugh thinking about the fact he picked it up from a random street sale.

Sofia raised an eyebrow as she took her seat. "Such a gentleman," she teased, eyeing the colorful medley of roasted vegetables—zucchini, eggplant, tomatoes, peppers—perfectly layered in neat little rounds. It actually looked pretty impressive, but she was trying her best to keep her cool about it.

"I only aim to please," Harry said with a wink, sitting next to her and grabbing his fork. "Now, come on. First bite. Let me see if my future as a chef is secure."

She twirled a piece of zucchini onto her fork, pretending to inspect it carefully. " Color looks great, has a good softness to it without being mushy. Alright, moment of truth," she said, before taking a bite. The flavors hit her all at once—the sweetness of the tomatoes, the earthiness of the vegetables, the hint of fresh basil. She let out an appreciative hum, nodding slowly as she chewed. "Okay, okay. Not bad."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Not bad? Come on, give me more than that."

Sofia laughed, taking another bite. "Alright, fine. It's delicious. Happy?"

He pursed his lips to the side in an attempt to break her smile, watching her delicately as he squinted to try to see into her. Sofia was playing a harsh game with him, and he wanted her approval more than he could admit. Even though he knew how she felt, he wanted to hear her say it.

Approval meant everything to him, even if he knew that she was just giving him a hard time.

"Very," he said, taking a bite himself, his expression smug. "Told you I had hidden talents."

She grinned, shaking her head. "Well, consider me impressed. Just don't expect me to call you 'Chef' any time soon."

"Not yet, but give it time," Harry said with a wink, raising his glass of wine. "To culinary greatness... and to not burning down my kitchen."

Sofia clinked her glass against his, laughing softly. "And to not burning down your kitchen," she echoed, taking a sip. As she did, she glanced across the table at him, feeling the warmth of the evening settle in.

There was something so easy about being with Harry, about the way they could joke and talk, and share a quiet meal. It felt... right. Comfortable, yet filled with something more. Something she was slowly realizing she didn't want to let go of anytime soon.

"Tell me other things you do well." She inquired, taking another bite, covering her mouth as she chewed. She moved onto the next question as he found himself wanting to give a certain answer, but shaking his head instead.

She could tell as he started to blush a bit red at the suggestion that lined his brain.

"Uh," He picked at a piece of the eggplant before licking his lips, "I'm very good at crosswords," He told her, "And building things."

"What kind of things?" She asked, taking a sip of wine to wash down the dinner.

"Anything. It's actually kind of nerdy," He tilted his smile, "But I love building, like, Legos. I always have. I'm very step-oriented. Guess it's why I like cooking, too. There's just a lot of steps."

Sofia cleared his throat as she narrowed her eyes to her plate, before looking back up at him through her lashes. "Would you say you're," She paused for a minute, "Good at following directions, then?"

Harry cleared his own throat, chewing a bit slower as he leaned on the island a bit, body folded in half as he looked at her a bit more directly.

"I'm very good at following directions, yes." He suggested, nodding a few times.

The blush on Sofia's cheeks was noticeable now, too, as she found herself giggling just a bit to herself at his answer. She hadn't noticed that the wine may have gotten to them a bit, but it was starting to feel incredibly warm all of the sudden.

"What about you?" He asked in return, watching as she tried to think about the question. "What are you good at?"

Sofia swallowed, licking her lips. "I'm nurturing, I think. I think I'm caring and I'm honest, maybe to a fault. But I think to the people I love, I'm their number one fan. I'm really good at throwing a birthday party and showering my people with love. Again," She paused, "Maybe to a fault."

Harry licked his lips a bit, tucking some hair behind his ears before pushing the sleeves to his flannel up a bit. "That's a bit more deep than playing with Legos."

Sofia smirked a little at his comment, "I'm also very good at picking things up with my feet. I think my toes are quite nimble."

A laugh broke out of Harry that made Sofia start to giggle as well as he covered his face with his hand; he winked at her jokingly, "You'll have to show me later."

"Oh, great. Another guy in New York with a foot fetish," She jokes, "I share something personal to me, and you go and make it sexual."

He finishes the bite off of his fork before placing his fork down on the plate, "You're the one who shared the foot fact. I'm sure they're lovely. You've kept 'em covered up around me, though– little tease."

Sofia laughed at his banter, taking another sip of her wine before she saw the way that his eyes shined at her. She hadn't felt this safe in a while– she hadn't felt this relaxed. She recognized it could've been the wine, but she knew that it was just the way that they spoke to one another. He was extraordinarily normal, caring. He was mature, but not to a fault.

The air in Harry's apartment felt a bit stale now, but it may have been the fact that she was feeling the heated attraction coming directly across from her. Her leaning into the kitchen island was done unwillingly as she realized that they had started to naturally come together as they finished their meals a bit more quietly, then.

Once she took her last bite, she placed her fork on the plate and looked up at him, "Final review is that I'd say this is a Michelin five-star restaurant and I'd definitely come back."

"Restaurants can only have up to three Michelin stars, so I take that as the highest compliment." Harry explained before taking her plate and placing them both in the sink for washing later.

"Damnit, I was trying to impress you." She explained, finishing her second glass. The wine had started to make her head a bit dizzy at that point, which made the goofy smile on her face more noticeable as she tried her best to keep composed.

Harry reached for the bottle, pouring the rest between them as he stared at her directly again. The night had started to grow darker outside; the dimness of the lights in his apartment created a warm atmosphere as they sat practically in darkness with little rays of string lights and side table lamps that he had turned on.

Harry grabbed a lighter from a drawer behind him, lighting a few candles in the kitchen to add a bit of light and warmth to the space before he turned to her and bobbed his head to the side, aiding her to follow him.

"Come check this out," He stated, taking the wine and the lighter with him as he moved into the bedroom. It was practically dark except for the window that overlooked the city. There were dancing, twinkling lights below them, they radiated off of the street from the rain on the road. It was a view he was happy with, as it didn't back to a wall or to a small courtyard behind the apartment space.

He pushed the window up, moving to sit in the windowsill– straddling it to keep himself balanced as his foot hit the fire escape on the other side.

"I thought you told me you didn't have a fire escape," Sofia laughed, mirroring him.

She held the wine in her hands as she felt the breeze on her face, watching as the lights illuminated over his face. Harry grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the floor before taking one and lighting it quickly. The flame to the lighter shone over him, her eyes fixed for a moment.

"I don't think I said that." He explained, "I told you I'd show you the front stoop, so I could be a bit different– that was just to impress you. I think I'm over trying to impress you now, though."

Sofia raised her brows as she took the cigarette from his fingers. The smoke blew back into his face as he tried to blow it away. She took a drag, humming as she held the cigarette between her fingers. He didn't take her as the kind to smoke, but he liked the view as she sat across from him.

"Already done trying to impress me on the first date." She shook her head, "I knew you were too good to be true."

The sinking of Harry's dimple in his cheek brought her heartrate up as he took another sip of the wine; they had finished the bottle quickly, which was a good choice on her behalf. He rattled his brain as he saw the way that the lights shone over her skin. He couldn't help but want to caress it, feel her for himself. But he refrained. He didn't want to move too soon or to push too hard.

With time, it would happen, he thought.

But right now, he wanted to take his time with her. Get to know her properly. Get to know what she liked and didn't like, her favorite spots to go on walks, her favorite place to get a croissant in the neighborhood, her favorite way to drink her coffee.

Harry wanted to ask the questions that he didn't know if anyone else asked her.

"Cause I've realized that all the impressing I've tried to do hasn't really worked on you," He explained, he shook his head a little bit as he pushed his shoe a bit to touch her calf. It was some of the intimate touching that he had been working on pushing; Harry was intimate, he was a skilled lover with a love language that exceeded personal space.

He bit his lip, "You're literally the first person in a really long time that I've been able to be myself around."

Sofia stared up at him, flicking the ash of the cigarette before handing it back to him. She leaned forward a bit, his hand moved to grab it before their hands touched just a bit. Her eyelids fluttered a bit with heaviness at the feeling of his index finger gently moving across hers and the way that they both stared at the interaction was enough to make her breathing hitch.

"Is this, uh," She rolled her lips into her mouth as she let her own index finger move across his. She watched the small interaction before his other hand dropped to her knee just a bit. The feeling of his fingers caressing her just enough that she felt secure and safe was enough. "Is this the first chapter of our story, then?"

"Do characters usually kiss in the first chapter?" Harry asked, his voice just a bit raspy as he scooted himself a bit forward, letting his hand move towards her jaw. The way that her head rested against the windowsill was out of comfort, out of letting him take the control which she hadn't imagined that she could have let him have.

"I think that only happens in the movie version," Sofia teased, her voice low.

Harry scoffed, "Damn, and the movie is never as good as the book."

"I guess we have to keep reading to see what happens." She laughed a bit, quiet, even though they were the only two alone.

"Yeah," He laughed, "Keep reading. Promise the book gets better."

The sound of the honking horns, the chatter along the streets– it added to the way that both of his hands wrapped around the sides of her face to pull him closer. He smelled like tobacco and vanilla, the cigarette burned between his fingers as Sofia held onto his thighs as she leaned forward into it. The scent of him and the feeling of his lips against hers were far too heightened from the wine.

Her senses were higher in some elements, lower in others. She had tried her best to try and level herself out, but his tongue licked at her bottom lip and it interrupted all thought.

She tasted sweet like the wine, as he would have imagined. The feeling erupts in him as he had thought about doing this all night and finally feeling as if the moment had come to him in the perfect timing.

Harry fell too hard, too fast. But his values and ideals never changed. He wanted to love– wanted to be loved and to feel the support from someone who was never going to let him down. Harry ached for the love of someone, he had never truly been himself around someone before. He didn't think that being himself was good enough.

He wasn't the man who was going to support the family, he wasn't the person that had all of his shit figured out. That's what scared him the most about being in a relationship; as he sat here, leaving gentle kisses along Sofia's lips, he felt the urge to scream that he had finally found someone who looked at him just a little bit differently.

He had found someone who had opened up a part of him that he had been hiding away for a long time. Sometimes, it only took one night– one decision to change it for the best.

As they pulled away for a moment of air, Harry's forehead leaned against Sofia's for a moment as she tried to catch her breath. She felt a sense of relief leaving her chest, knowing whole-heartedly that he had given her a night that she wasn't expecting. She wasn't expecting to leave here tonight with a smile or with the hope that harbored in her belly; she expected the disappointment.

Her lips tasted like his, and her heart raced at the thought of his lips all over her. Everywhere, all the time.

Her breathing stabilized a bit before she spoke again, shaking her head with disbelief.

"You're right," She nodded. "That was a really good book."

Her eyes were heavy as she watched the smirk of his lips; his face closer to hers as their noses practically brushed together.

"Just wait then," He said, his accent raspy and full of grit as he kissed her lips gently once again. "That was just the first chapter."

_____________

hiiiiiiiiiii <3

even if you're not obsessed with them, I am!

ily you guys for loving me & keeping up with all of my antics ugh thank you, thank you!! remember this is a short story so we're gonna move fast with time but I will try my best to cover as much as possible <3 let me know what you think so far!!!!

love you!!!!!

- em

[i-messed-up-big-time]

Lonely Birthday - Xavier

Xavier x Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff (happy ending)

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, female pronouns, reader is not MC, swearing

word count: 2153

a/n: In commemoration of my birthday that just passed (and when i mean just passed i mean like a month ago), I am going to write this just because I love causing myself pain. also sorry for always causing y'all pain with my reading, i suck at writing things that dont involve hurt/comfort 🥹 i also plan on turning this into a four part series cause as i continue to write xaviers part i noticed it kept getting longer than what i anticipated

masterlist

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Xavier

Y/N wasn't the type to go all out on her birthday, but that didn't mean she didn't look forward to seeing what her loved ones would do for her special day.

Xavier and Y/N normally spent their birthdays at home just relaxing in bed during the day, and then at night Y/N would make her favourite dish for dinner. There was no way she was letting Xavier into the kitchen to do any cooking so he normally just clung to her like a koala, enjoying the warmth she gave off.

Today was different from the previous birthdays. Xavier was sent out on a mission and would return until the next day. It was a bit disappointing because you thought he had requested the day off.

What made it worse was that he didn't even tell you he got a mission, you just woke up to an empty bed and found out at work when you went in.

"I get it was an urgent mission but why didn't he even message me." You sulked, even though you guys don't even do anything on birthdays, it was nice spending it with Xavier.

You let out a heavy sigh, you weren't even supposed to come in but it felt kind of lonely being at home by yourself. So to not be down you decided to go to work to keep yourself occupied.

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Two hours later

After patrolling the areas you were assigned to, you checked your phone for the umpteenth time. Getting more frustrated and upset the more you keep checking.

I get that he's on a mission but he could've at least texted me happy birthday.

Your shoulders sagged in sadness as a frown graced your lips. You made your way back to the Hunters Association to finish your report before signing off for the day.

As you make your way towards your desk you notice a couple of bags on the desk. If anyone was watching you they would've seen the way your eyes lightened up.

Your speed increases as you approach your desk, excited to see who the senders were. Before you got the chance to sneak a peek into the bags, Jenna called out your name.

"Y/N, before finishing up your report there's one more area I need you to patrol." Jenna send all the information I need to my Hunters watch and sends me off with a warning to be careful since there have been quite a few sightings of wanderers in the area.

You got ready to leave again. On your way out you saw a familiar face across the street, the sight in front of you made you stop dead in your tracks.

There across the street was Xavier, who was supposedly on a mission outside of Linkon, with that new hunter. You weren't one to feel insecure about your place in Xavier's life, but there was something about seeing them together on a day like today when Xavier hadn't even texted you a simple happy birthday.

There's no way he would've forgotten right? He's not like that, but why is he with her when he should be outside of Linkon.

It just didn't make sense, you didn't want to jump to conclusions but it just rubbed you the wrong way.

You decided to give him a quick call and see what he was going to say. If you knew what would've happened next you would've just walked away, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he just finished his mission early.

You kept your eyes on the two of them as the line rang, you saw Xavier pull out his phone to see who was calling and with a quick tap on his end, the line went dead and his voicemail tone came up.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, you tried calling him again only for the same thing to happen again. You went to try again and then saw MC grab his phone and proceed to turn it off before putting it in her pocket.

"What the actual fuck?" You could feel your blood start to boil, not only did he decline your calls, he also willingly let her take his phone and turn it off?

You turned on your heel and headed straight towards your patrol area, praying to god there were wanderers around to release your anger on.

Unfortunately, one should be careful for what they wish for. As you made your way to the site, your hunters watch went off sensing the metaflux fluctuations.

Perfect.

You thought as you readied yourself to fight. It wasn't too bad, the wanderers were far weaker than you expected them to be and the fight was basically over before it even started.

Sadly, it seems like luck wasn't on your side that day because you ended up getting exactly what you wished for. Two wanderers appeared and they were far more difficult to manage than the other ones you dealt with.

It was too much to deal on your own, you went to call for some back up but that short moment of distraction gave the wanderers the perfect moment to strike.

Your back collided with the tree and you felt an excruciating pain in your left wrist. The pain was burning hot, but nothing you couldn't deal with.

Picking yourself back up you move to grab your weapons, pushing through the pain to pull the triggers. In that moment you saw a figure heading your way in that familiar hunters uniform.

Thank god, at least my call for back-up went through.

You're able to deal with the wanderers more easily with support. After all the protocores were collected, the pain that you had pushed to the back of your mind came at you full-force.

You clutched your broken wrist and told the other hunter to head back to the association themselves and to let Jenna know you'll drop by the hospital before coming back.

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The hospital trip took longer than you expected it to, so by the time you got back to the association the sun had already set.

What a way to spend my birthday.

You let out an exhausted sigh, feeling the weight of today's activities way heavy on your shoulders.

As you made your way towards desk you spotted a little sticky note on your computer.

'The report was completed and submitted! Just go home and enjoy the rest of your day. Happy Birthday Y/N!'

The note left a smile on your face, even though today wasn't what you wanted it to be, you couldn't be more thankful for the people you have around you.

You still felt upset about the whole Xavier situation but you decided not let it get you down and that you would pick up your favourite dessert on your way home to enjoy.

The walk home was a bit difficult as you had to carry all of your items with one hand since you weren't allowed to put any pressure on your dominant hand, the wrist would take a while to heal

You entered your home and immediately placed everything down before heading to your room to freshen up. You made your way to your living room, turning on the tv and putting on your favourite show.

You normally enjoyed your time alone, as it was a way to reconnect with yourself, but today it just made you feel even more lonely. At that moment you couldn't stop the tears from falling.

You didn't let that stop you from at least enjoying your dessert. it was s sight to see, tears rolling down your face as you spooned more dessert into your mouth.

A couple of hours passed by like that and you had passed out from exhaustion.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･''･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

It took Xavier longer than he expected to get the surprise he had planned ready. He looked at the time only to notice there was only 30 minutes left for your birthday.

He felt guilty about lying to you and avoiding your calls but he really wanted to perfect your favourite dish and be able to serve it to you. So imagine his face when he came home to see you on the couch, tear stains on your face and your arm in a cast.

he dropped the bag of groceries and presents and immediately ran towards you. The feeling of hands on your face stirred you out of your sleep and you jolted up seeing Xavier in front of you.

You got up and pushed his hands away from you. His face scrunched up in confusion, but you didn't give him a chance to ask you what's wrong.

"Where were you today? And who were you with? Don't lie to me and say you were on a mission outside of Linkon because I know you weren't." You just started firing questions at him, feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you recounted the sight you saw earlier today.

Xavier's eyes widened in shock, he reached out to grab your face but you turned your head away from him, keeping your eyes down.

"Just answer the question Xavier." He knew he messed up big time when you would call him by his first name.

"Okay, I was in Linkon and I was with MC." He spoke up softly, not wanting even the slightest thing to upset you further. You thought the truth would bring you some type of comfort or release, but instead it made you feel like shit.

"Why was spending time with her more important than spending my birthday with me? I know we don't do much but why would you leave me all alone?" You said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, the tears running down your face at a faster pace.

Xavier felt his heart break, he didn't mean for you to be left alone and he would never choose another over you. He just wanted to give you a gift that was more special than anything else.

He grabbed your face and this time you let him, wanting to have faith in the man in front of you. You know he would never do anything wrong, but at the end of the day you're human and you end up imagining the worst case scenarios or let your insecurities get the best of you.

"I love you more than anything in this world and beyond it my star. Everyday spent with you is more precious than any worldly possessions." Xavier wiped your face, he moved so he was seated next to you before pulling you onto his lap.

"I know today didn't go as you hoped. It's not an excuse but I also didn't plan to be this late, I was preparing my surprise for you but in the process of making sure everything went well I lost track of time. I hope it's not too late for you to forgive me for making you cry on your birthday."

He pleaded softly, holding you in his arms as he gently rubbed your injured arm over the cast, feeling an ache in his chest that you got injured when you guys should've been at home.

Xavier took a deep breath before showing you the surprise he had been diligently preparing for.

"I planned to do this over a nice dinner, I even practiced hard to make your favourite dish without burning anything. But I think now is a better time than any other." He pulls you a little away from him so he can look you in the eyes as he pulls something from his pocket.

"Would you do the honours of taking this foolish man as your husband?" Xavier opened the velvet box to reveal a beautifully crafted ring with your favourite gemstone.

This time, the tears were of happiness rather than sadness. Feeling your throat choke up, all you could do was nod with a bright smile on your face.

Xavier slid the ring onto your finger and then proceeded to place a delicate kiss on your knuckles, your injured wrist, your cheeks, before finally placing a soft kiss on your lips.

He pulled back from the kiss, fixed his grip and got up, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down and quickly got cleaned up before joining you in bed.

"I'll make it up to you. I'll give you the best make-up birthday ever and you won't even have to lift a single finger." He said as he wrapped his arms around your waist before pulling you closer, your head laying on his chest hearing the steady beat of his heart.

In that moment you knew everything would be okay, no matter the ups and downs you guys faced, you would always get through it together and come back stronger than before, as his love for you was as endless as the stars in the sky.

[slash-me-please]

HIHIHI I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM AND I SAW THAT YOUR WILLING TO WRITE FOR AMANDA YOUNG BUT IF YOU DONT FEEL LIKE IT THATS COMPLETELY OKAY ALSO!!

Can you do jealous Amanda x Fem reader? Somewhere around reader and Amanda having a complicated relationship and reader is an apprentice. Another apprentice flirts around with reader and Amanda doesn’t like it at all :$ Also some NSFW but if your not in the mood for it you don’t have to add it!

I hope you have an amazing day 😋😊

I love writing for Amanda!!!! I'm so happy to be getting more fem requests because I am a gay mf. Anyways on with the story.

-In the event that Michael Marks survived, he has became an apprentice. Michael Marks. Yknow, the key in the eyeball guy. So, let's begin.

A Deeper Understanding

Warnings: Literally nobody getting along, Jealous!Amanda, Cursing, Threatening, Fingering, Domish!Amanda, Getting Caught

John Kramer had collected quite the assortment of a team. He hoped at least one of you would continue his legacy perfectly. He'd make sure before he died that he'd live on through the lot of you. You were all currently at the workshop, bullshitting about random tests and other people you were interested in "helping". There was about four of you there, Dr. Gordon couldn't make it, like usual. Michael Marks had been your second choice, Gordon has always been your first.

His eyes traveled down your body, a look that made you feel a certain type of way, not a good way. He was your partner though, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt. "I'm glad everyone is here," John smiled a thin smile, Jill stood across from him, eyes trained on his every move. You knew that it'd been hard on her since his diagnosis. "I need your help with the scalping seat, I'm not sure it'll get done on time." He took a pause, "I've had some other things to tend to, my apologies."

He hadn't been looking at you, you weren't the mechanic of the group. John looked to you for ideas for traps. You had a knack at creating a symbolic test, one which would change the looks of the masses. Michael stepped forwards, eyes lingering on you for too long for someone who had just needed to build a trap. "I used to work as a car technician before Homeward Bound," He said, bending down and looking through the gears. "Unless Hoffman can do better." Hoffman wasn't much for Michael, he stayed silent.

"Nobody wants you to touch anything, you hardly beat your test. I don't know why John even wants you here because you're obviously not even serious about him." Amanda stood from her spot near John, she walked forwards and towered over Michael- only for Michael to size her up. "What are you even talking about?" He barked, his chest puffing. "Amanda calm down, we need to finish this trap. Brenda's test is what matters." John corrected her, his composure was always impenetrable. "No John! Have you seen this guy? He's been eye-fucking Y/N since we got here!"

Amanda's fists clenched as she yelled back at John. She seemed ready to blow a fuse, and you were thankful for it. "As far as I am concerned, He has not said anything to Y/N that has made her uncomfortable." "But-" "No, we'll deal with him later, we have to focus on the contraption now, we'll deal with him later. I need you to act level-headed if you're going to carry out my legacy." Amanda huffed, speeding past the group and into the hallway. "Amanda!" You yelled after her, jumping down from the table and following after her.

You found yourself in a grimy hallway, off to the side was an opening to what you presumed was where Amanda had went off to. You stepped forward, watching as the curtains to the archway swayed back and forth. "Amanda?" You called, and she opened the swaying curtains as you stood in front of them. "Finally got enough of Mr. Fuck-me eyes?" You shook your head. "We're not... doing anything." She nodded, stepping away to move back to a decaying workstation. You saw she had her reverse bear trap on the table, she seemed to be fixing something wrong with it.

"What are you doing to it?" You wondered, she glanced over at you for a moment. "John gave it to me to fix, fucking Hoffman took it somewhere and it broke." She gulped. "I hate this thing, but I'm about finished." Amanda was grumbling as she fixed her trap, she seemed elsewhere and you could tell that this was a coping mechanism for her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, and with a sigh she sneered. "I just don't understand why Michael is even here, he hardly completed his test and he's an asshole y'know?" Her voice elevated, and she turned towards you. "He's awful and I just don't understand why he can't leave you alone!" Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening as she stared right at you. "Uh-" But you cut her off, hands coming up to hold her face. It happened to turn out that she would be the one to press forward and kiss you. She only let it escalate from there when her hand moved to reach under your shirt and pull you flush against her chest.

Her nails dug into the plush of your stomach skin when she picked you up and placed you on the workbench, shoving the bear trap off to the side. Amanda placed kisses on your collarbone as you worked to pull your shirt off, and in the heat of the moment she found herself dizzy with lust. She had been dreaming about this moment since you joined the group, and she thought she might've entered her dreamworld when you finally got your shirt off. "You're fucking perfect," She mumbled, the androgynous tang of her voice flowed through your core and straight between your legs. You opened them right up.

Amanda leaned forward, tongue landing flat on your nipple and sucking at it until it pressed hard against the pad of her tongue. With her left hand, she groped you passionately, and she praised how you fit in her hand perfectly. You had leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the top of her head as she pushed your skirt up and over your ass, eager to get where she had wanted to touch most. You blessed her with it, gripping the edge of rotten wood when she hooked her long fingers inside your heat. "Shit..." She mumbled, her left hand dropping your tit to push you back by the stomach. You stumbled back against the wood with a whine, biting onto your left hand as the other gripped her wrist.

Amanda watched with an intense gaze as you moaned into your hand, she was more than interested, her left hand moving to rub circles on your clit as she fingered you. Your hips pushed against her fingers, desperate to feel more of her as she pleasured you- you knew her thoughts of Michael Marks were gone by now, her gaze enraptured by the way your cunt sucked her in. She felt herself becoming devoted as she listened to the gasps and whimpers you released of her name- you felt the same.

She began to kiss your hips as your legs shook around her fingers and your whines became more noticeable. Amanda gathered she had to be doing something right, her ego inflating as you rode her hand. "You're doing so well Y/N," She whispered, the fingers on your clit speeding up. You cried out, "I'm so close..." yelping when she pushed her fingers deeper and shushed you. You felt your insides clench and twitch, legs spreading wider as you held her wrist against your sex- whining out a flurry of "Thank yous," While you finished on her hand.

Finally, you leaned back down, huffing against your hand. You reached out to maybe grab her, and she reached to pull her shirt off. Unluckily, she didn't make it far when you heard Michael open the curtains, halfway through his sentence. "I'm sorry Amanda, I didn't- oh!" His eyes landed on you, and you yelped, flailing to cover your body as he stared.

Amanda's lip twitched in annoyance, pulling your skirt down with a little bit of attitude. You knew it wasn't directed at you though. "If you do not get the fuck out of my office, I will literally blow your brains out Michael."

And he turned around, scurrying down the hallway. Amanda turned back to you, giving you a happy kiss on the lips. "Maybe we can arrange a date this week?"

[strlingsav]

Hi! Congratulations on another wonderful piece, I thoroughly enjoyed Drive and reread it 5 times now🥰🥹

please feel free to ignore this request, but I'm so painfully addicted to your writing style (seriously you are my top favorite creator along with stararchangel) I would love to see your take on this, I have 2 ideas-

1) female reader x Simon Riley, she's civilian, and basically how they meet is somewhere random (like grocery store?) and he, a cold hardened killer, immediately melts and thinks she's the most beautiful piece of art he's ever seen. Now, he doesnt immediately approach her bc he's like, scared or dumbstruck, or maybe just doesn't wanna bother her? But he can either follow her out of the vicinity to find out where she resides/more about her (stalker lowkey ik) or maybe they can meet a second time, same place, but she accidentally bumps into him? Then they get to talking, he wants to pursue her etc AND LOTS OF SMUT OMG YOUR SMUT IS PEAK! I did read something similar from someone else, I think they did könig though, or even just another civilian female x ghost and he is just dumbfounded thinking she's the most beautiful things ever man

2) female reader x ghost, where she's like an insanely skilled killer, perfect sniper executions, can rip dude's faces off per say and is super fast and skilled in some fighting style like jujitsu���, easily knock people off their feet ok? And basically she has a reputation for being excellent at her craft and SUPER well known not just within the army or whatever in the US but overseas like in the Middle East and Japan and Russia and shit man idk (honestly I was watching Hunter x Hunter thinking about the flesh collector girl that Kurapika had to bodyguard for, so what if the fReader was known too for like selling shit on the black market? And being the best of the best medic, head Doctor/ surgeon type shit), then she joins task force 141 and they see all her badass-ness in action and how she just fucks dudes up and gets head shots from crazy far sniper locations and fixes up awful injuries like it's nothing and yea then ghost also falls in love w her and LOTS OF SMUT AGAIN pls

Thank you SO MUCH FOR READING! 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽😭

Thank you so so much for the kind words and for reading!! (You're so sweet omg) I'm so happy you enjoy it.

This'll have to be a two-parter for both requests, but here's your first!! Second will come later.

Thank you again, I hope you enjoy 🤍

Afar

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Simon's enamoured with you.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You were hesitant about your friends' choice to meet for drinks at a dive-bar downtown. You knew the place; a rustic establishment tucked into a quiet corner of the city. It was well known for the crowd it attracted: blue-collar workers, bikers and the like. You'd never stepped foot inside, it's outward appearance alone was daunting. It was a historic monument in the city, given away by the dying neon of the 'open' sign and weathered letters above the entrance.

It was filled with a haze of cigarette smoke and the smell of whiskey and beer. Neon lights plastered on the walls, dated decor with posters of vintage cars and women- it certainly wasn't an obvious choice.

Your eyes shifted around the bar, classic-rock playing softly in the background, the sound of pool balls clacking against each other- it almost made you uncomfortable how much you stood out among the predominantly masculine crowd. You were still dressed in your office attire, and your friend was no different. She insisted it was a great place for drinks after work, and the men never bothered her.

You gave her the benefit of the doubt, sipping your beer slowly while she chatted about the newest developments in her love life. Your eyes met, adding a nod or a smile every so often, but you were on edge; your guard was up just in case.

Simon had seen you walk in.

His hand was clasped around the glass of bourbon, perched at the bar with tense shoulders. Another deployment finished meant he would spend most of his free time there, where people tended to mind their own, and didn't ask any questions. He liked the solitude, liked knowing that no one knew who he was- or cared.

He could drown out the flurry of thoughts and internal conflict with whiskey, focusing solely on the sweet hint of caramel, the bitterness of burning tobacco and melody of classic rock in the background. It was his sanctuary, the place he had no distractions, no obligations, only staring down the amber liquid in his glass, ice cubes pressing against his lips as he took a sip.

His attention was quickly grabbed by the bell above the door, ringing just loud enough to make his head turn. His eyes met yours for a fleeting moment, before you turned back to the woman you were with.

He certainly hadn't expected to find himself giving you a second look. He didn't consider himself to be the kind of man that stared at attractive women. His composure had cracked just a bit though, enough to let his gaze follow you through the bar as you took a seat within his view.

He was quickly enamoured, something that hadn't happened to him before- aside from the early years of puberty, and it terrified him. How you walked in, brushing your hair from your face, the way your hips swayed when you walked- you'd already more than caught his attention.

He swallowed, harshly. He took another sip of his drink, a deep breath in as he finished the last of it. Maybe it was a fleeting attraction, maybe he was just sexually frustrated, gratifying it with the first woman he saw. As he peered over his shoulder, watching you lean forward, smile softly- fuck, if it didn't make his stomach lurch. He wanted to know you.

Your pencil skirt more than complemented your body, and he'd noticed. The silk blouse that fit just right around the peak of your breasts- he stared forward, shutting his eyes as he tried to shake you from his mind.

He couldn't help it, though. Watching you from his periphery, beer in hand as you crossed your legs, he heard you laugh. He forced himself to lean over his drink, tune out your conversation. It wasn't right to listen, wasn't right to think about a woman, a stranger, the way he was.

But the sound of your voice carried, and he could practically taste the shampoo in your hair, the fading scent of perfume. He wondered if all of you was as sweet as you smelled. As an even nastier thought crossed his mind, what he'd do to have your body in his hands, his nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as he slid from his stool, marching outside. He didn't allow himself to look back, didn't want to be the one to make you uncomfortable. He was sure you were used to being leered at- how couldn't you be?

He was transfixed with the shape of your lips, the way your eyes crinkled at the edges when you laughed, how you'd lick your lips after a swig of beer. It was too much- all too much for him to handle while a few drinks in, and he refused to be the asshole that hit on you in a bar. He knew he treasured the peace and quiet, he imagined you did too.

He stepped outside, the cool night air on his skin helped drop his rising temperature, bringing him back to reality. The lit cigarette in his hand glowed as he sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to throw it away and stalk back inside to you. He wondered whether you had a boyfriend, perhaps a husband- someone you'd go home to that would never know just how lucky he is. Who wouldn't worship you the way he knew he could, treat you the way he would. Make you feel the way he would. He clenched his jaw, already despising the bastard.

His thoughts got ahead of him, and his cigarette was already burned to the filter before he realized he'd been stewing outside for at least ten minutes. He flicked it from his fingers, watching it sizzle out on the pavement. He cleared his throat, turning to open the door when you appeared on the other side.

His breath caught in his chest. Up close, he could see the true curves of your cheekbones, the allure of your lips, the sparkle in your eye as he interrupted the conversation with your friend. He could even smell you better, and it hit him like a wall. His heart pounded in his ears, aching to say something-anything, but he refused to fall victim to his inflated desires. He didn't know if you'd reciprocate it, anyway.

You stopped and stared, eyes meeting his as he stepped out of the way, holding the door for the two of you.

"Thank you," You gave him a small smile, your eyes still on his even as you were clear of the door.

He was tall- and big. A mass of muscle that caught your eye. His eyes were dark, plagued with some sort of stress as his brows furrowed. You noticed the way his gaze trailed down your body, and felt the twinge of heat rise up your chest and neck.

He had short hair, brunet, disheveled. He was handsome. A crooked nose, defined cheekbones and jaw, a hint of stubble across his face.

You turned back, taking one last look as the two of you made your way to the taxi, waiting on the curb.

The second time your friend invited you out, you'd had the weekend off. Free time was never a guarantee in your line of work. A demanding boss, deadlines, company meetings; usually your weekends were filled with errands. She'd caught you at a good time, and asked if you liked the bar she took you to.

So you ventured out again, happy to be free of your office clothes, and took a seat in the same booth. This time, you were feeling less on edge, more excited to be out, enjoying yourself. Your friend brought her current girlfriend- one you'd met only once before, and weren't sure how many more times you'd see her.

"I'll get us a round," You said, setting your hands on the table as you stood up.

"If you insist," Your friend grinned, watching you with a smirk, her arm over her girlfriend's shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, "You're paying next."

She didn't say anything, but you kept your eyes on her with a playful glare as you walked off to the bar.

You stopped at the bar, and stood on your toes, trying to catch the attention of the bartender who had his back turned polishing glasses.

Simon couldn't believe he was seeing you again. You'd been on his mind since he last saw you, flashes of your lips, your eyes distracting him from everyday tasks. He even took it a step further to imagine what you felt like beneath him, the way you'd say his name as you came around him. He spent most nights in a sweat, desperately chasing relief. It didn't work. He didn't think it ever would.

He turned his head ever so slightly, and you met his eyes.

"Hi," You said softly, a bashful smile over your face as you realized it was the same good-looking man that held the door for you.

He could feel his heart beat just a bit faster- his eyes trailing over your face.

"Y'alright?" He asked.

His voice was deep, raspy, British. You licked your lips.

"Just trying to order some drinks," You said. "I don't think it'll be happening anytime soon."

He looked over at the bartender.

"Oi, mate," He called, catching his attention.

"Thanks," You said.

You were inches from him, your hip nearly touching his arm, and he noticed. He could feel it, feel the heat emanating off of you, smell that same delicious fucking smell that drove him insane. This time, you were in a shirt that showed a tease of cleavage and tight jeans that clung to every curve and detail of your body. As he leaned back ever so slightly, taking in the sight of your ass, he let out a soft breath.

"You're the guy that held the door for me a couple weekends ago, right?"

You were waiting for the bartender to make your drinks, and couldn't help but strike up a conversation with him. Your eyes moved to his fingers, wrapped around the glass, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

He definitely works with his hands, you thought. He did something that formed callouses along the crown of his palms and helped keep the obvious tone of his arms. Construction, maybe?

"Yeah," He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. You watched intently, his lips plush and inviting, wet with liquor.

"That was my first time being here," You looked away, feeling intimidated by his gaze.

He was staring so intensely, you almost felt suffocated. But you liked it. Liked the way it made you feel, liked how he shifted in his seat to face you, how you could imagine your legs over his broad shoulders.

"You like it?" He asked, raising a brow.

"It's not bad," You smiled. You just couldn't stop fucking smiling. "Company's good and the people seem nice enough."

"You with your friends?"

You nodded. "And you?"

"I like drinkin' alone."

You tried to hide the frown that crossed your face.

"But I don't mind talkin' to you."

He was so damn charming- too charming. He was definitely good at sweet-talking. Your cheeks burned, wondering what else he was good at.

"That's sweet," You grinned, your hand landing on his arm.

He could've fucked you then and there, your hand on his arm lit up his entire body. He felt himself harden under the restraints of his jeans. He'd never gotten hard from a woman touching his arm before, and he wondered when he became so goddamn pathetic. He didn't mind it though, not if you kept talking and smiling like you were.

You introduced yourself, holding your hand out for him to shake. He seemed entertained by the idea, a small smile lifting his lips as his hand engulfed yours. He knew your skin would be soft, knew you'd have a light touch.

"Simon," He nodded. "Don't let me keep you from your friends."

"I think they're more than okay." You looked over your shoulder at the two of them, kissing in the booth, not paying a sliver of attention to anyone else. "Let me just drop these off for them," You took the drinks off the counter.

You came back with a purpose, a new mission for the evening; taking him back to your place, or his- whichever was closest. You had no idea he was thinking the exact same thing.

You and Simon continued your conversation, leading to the revelation that he was in the army, a soldier. If it was even possible, it turned you on even more.

"I work in an office," You said, stirring your drink with the thin, black stir-stick. "Nothing as interesting as that."

"I remember your blouse- that skirt you had on," He looked at you, a grin playing at his lips.

"You remember my outfit?" You giggled.

He nodded, "Couldn't forget it," He admitted, hoping it wouldn't scare you off.

"Didn't know I had that much influence," You raised your brows. "You should've introduced yourself then. We could've been having this conversation weeks ago."

"Didn't want to disturb you," He said, his palm pressing flat along your thigh. Your eyes drifted to the source of warmth on your leg, then looked back at him. "M'alright with where we are now, though."

"That's a shame," You sighed, now two cocktails deep, and undeniably aroused. He waited, brows furrowing at your words. "Think we'd be better off at my place."

He looked shocked, not sure how to proceed- whether it would be okay for him to accept, or make him appear too eager. But Christ, if he wasn't already burning up, desperate to get you undressed, kissing every inch of your body until you begged for him. He couldn't resist.

"Y'might be right," He drawled, his palm trailing further up your thigh, his thumb resting in the crease of your thigh and hip.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

He grinned, standing up from his seat, dropping a wad of cash on the bar.

"'M ready when you are, sweetheart."

He drove a new pickup truck, opening the door for you to step in. You sat comfortably, trying to restrain yourself as much as possible, but as he reached out to turn on the heat and you caught sight of the tattoos that engulfed his arm, you sighed deeply.

You were already aching, dying for a taste, anything to sate the throbbing in your abdomen. You could feel the wetness dripping from you, and you were sure you'd already soaked a spot on your panties.

When he set his palm on your thigh again, you exhaled, setting your hand overtop his. His hands were rough, worn; and you couldn't wait to feel them against your bare skin. You glided his hand carefully, slowly, up your leg, urging him to feel you, touch you.

"You can touch me, Simon," You whispered.

He looked over, his eyes narrowing as you leaned back, spreading your thighs a bit.

"I want you to touch me."

"Christ," He muttered, his fingers pressing against your pussy from over your jeans.

The pressure pushed the seam into your clit, and you let out a soft sigh. He watched with wide eyes, heavy breathing as he moved his fingers in small circles, forcing your jeans against you. You writhed under the pressure, whimpering softly, clinging to his wrist with an iron grip.

He listened to the sounds you made, trying not to close his eyes and savour it, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road. If that was all it took to have those sounds of pleasure coming from your lips, he couldn't imagine what you'd sound like when he was inside you. He could hardly wait to show you the attention you deserved, make you cum endlessly, beg for his cock.

The trip to your house wasn't long, and when you entered the apartment, he had you pressed against the entryway. His hand on your waist, the other above your head, you stared into his eyes.

"Been dyin' t'get my hands on you since I first saw you," He whispered, goosebumps exploding over the surface of your skin.

"You shouldn't have waited," You said back, your face tilting up to his.

His hand left your waist, his thumb running across your bottom lip as he stood up straight. Letting out a heavy sigh, he grabbed your hips and yanked your pelvis flush with his.

"You're a fuckin' tease," He breathed.

He pressed his lips against yours, already a hungry and devoted action. Your lips felt like velvet, you tasted like a sweet fruit- cranberries, from your vodka-cran. He moaned softly, cherishing the feeling of your mouth against his, your hands coming to his face, delicately holding him in place.

He loved the way he made you look so small, so innocent against his larger frame. He'd have an easy time moulding you into positions, right where he wanted you. You felt so good, pressed against him, your soft little whimpers spurring him on. He introduced his tongue, gliding it against yours with no hesitation, tasting you.

"Show me your room," He said, breathless as he pulled away.

He was slow in his movements, his tall frame circling you like prey. He took a seat on the edge of your bed, thighs spread as he leaned forward. His fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt, rubbing it between his fingers.

"Take it off for me, sweetheart," His raspy voice was low, eyes unflinching as he watched you. "Nice n' slow." His elbows rested on his thighs as he watched you.

Your hands went to the hem, lifting it off your waist and over your shoulders. You unbuttoned your jeans, too, sliding them down your thighs and stepping out of them. You stood in your bra and panties before him, feeling a bit nervous with his unfaltering gaze, his eyes taking in every inch.

He was practically eating you alive. He trailed up and down your form, a strangled sigh coming from him as he watched your breasts push against your bra, thong clinging to you nicely with the wetness between your thighs. He couldn't believe he'd gotten you in his grasp, so willing and ready to do anything he asked. It made his cold heart melt, watching the way your hip shifted nervously.

"C'mere," He said, leaning back.

Your feet pushed forward, standing before him, and he grabbed your hips as he tugged you onto his lap. He let his hands reach around to sit on your ass, exhaling, nearly exploding with how good you felt in his hands. Such silky skin, he couldn't help but let his hands roam.

"Pretty little thing you are," He whispered against your throat, his nose nuzzled against your chin.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, his tongue sticking out to lick a short strip over your skin. He took his time, lips exploring your neck.

"Simon," You sighed, hands reaching for his forearms. "Please." You wanted him to touch you already, your pussy was aching from being so aroused.

"I'm takin' my time with you, sweetheart," Was his response.

You shivered, his hands running up and down your back, reaching for your ass. You arched your back, chest flush against his. He wanted to memorize every curve, learn you inside and out until he could blindly please you.

"Take off my shirt for me."

You obeyed, nimble fingers working quickly to unbutton his shirt, eyes widening as you pulled it open. His chest was muscular, and your eyes trailed down to his abs, scars scattered over his torso. There was a trail of coarse hair that disappeared into his jeans. You felt your pussy clench, a fire that was already raging in your womb exploded tenfold.

You tugged the shirt off his shoulders, breath hitting his chest as you sighed, nearly riding his lap.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. You moaned, exhaling harshly through your nose as his tongue slid inside you mouth, gliding against yours. Your head went dizzy- intoxicated, drowning in the taste of his lips. You never wanted to pull away and your fingers reached his jaw as you leaned into him, hunger in your kiss.

Your hands then ran down his chest, over the hard muscles on his torso. He grunted softly, his body jerking as you felt his shoulders and biceps.

His hands reached around, unclasping your bra. He let it drop, watching you pull your arms from the straps. His eyes flashed to your breasts, one hand reaching up to cup your breast. Your head fell back, the ache in your pussy only getting stronger as he massaged your breasts. His thumb grazed your nipple, making you gasp softly.

"So fuckin' beautiful," He groaned.

You lifted your head, eyes boring into his.

He leaned in again, licking your breast before he took your nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around it before flicking over it. You gasped, fingers lifting to his hair.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," He pulled back, lips finding your neck in a passionate kiss. "Bet your cunt tastes even better."

You sighed aloud, your hips jumping against his crotch. His words sent a shiver of desire straight through you, fingernails digging into his shoulders. He lifted you up with ease, turning to settle you on the bed.

Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, his lips back on yours for a moment before he kissed down your neck. Travelling over your breasts, he left bruises on the soft flesh, moving to your stomach, then hip bones.

His fingers tugged at your panties, parting them from your body with a bit of resistance from your wet core, then slid them down your legs, discarding them on the floor.

"Fuck," He mumbled. "You're soaked," He growled.

His lips attached to your inner thigh, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Your fingers reached into his hair, exhaling as you waited, hardly able to contain the thrumming in your chest, your desperate writhing.

His tongue licked a stripe through your folds and your hips jumped when he ran over your clit. Softly exhaling, you squeezed your thighs together around his ears.

He groaned softly, doing it again to receive the same reaction. His tongue worked a bit harder now, moving in circles over your clit. You were already wet- he knew that well. He wanted to eat your pussy for his own pleasure. He listened intently to the beautiful moans from your lips, his cock hardening even more when your fingers tugged and pulled at his hair.

You let out a soft moan, fingers curling into his hair, tugging as he lapped generously. The sounds of your pussy on his tongue were vulgar- echoing around your room. You were writhing in his grasp, even as his hands came to your hip bones to steady you.

He slid a finger inside you, curling it up against the rough spot inside your pussy. Your chest lifted, panting as he continued the motion, tongue still on your clit.

"God- Simon," You croaked, shivering. He adored the way his name sounded from your mouth.

It didn't take long for your climax to near, having already been turned on for so long, you were just waiting for his touch. You shifted with restlessness, and when he added a second finger, you knew your release would come any moment.

"I'm almost there," You whispered, voice hoarse as your abdomen clenched down.

"Cum for me, sweetheart," He cooed, fingers still coaxing it out of you.

Your eyes rolled shut, pussy squeezing down as you came- hard. He didn't relent, pleasure coursing through you as he continued his movements. He could hardly move his fingers at a certain point, your pussy constricting around him.

"Fuckin' hell," He murmured, eyes watching your body as you came.

You sighed softly, finally recovering from your orgasm, and Simon stood to his feet, face wet with your cum.

He leaned forward, "You wanna taste yourself?"

Your body shivered, meeting him halfway, pressing your lips to his. You made an effort to find his tongue, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue; mostly bitter, a hint of sweetness.

He stood up, yanking the belt from his jeans. You gulped, eyes watching with anticipation.

"I want to feel you," You said.

"Go on, love."

You reached out, fingers undoing his button, then his zipper. You yanked his pants down over his thighs. His bulge in his briefs was larger than expected- much larger. You pulled his briefs down, met with his large cock. Your hands immediately reached out to feel him, and his head fell back.

He was so used to fucking his own hand, the skin of yours was like satin on his cock. He choked back a gasp.

"Yeah," He groaned. "Just like that sweetheart," He praised, watching you twist your wrist, hand running up and down his length. You sighed softly, hips rocking as you listened to him, burning desire as he praised you.

You shifted, thighs rubbing together to create friction on your clit.

"Can't wait anymore," He said. "Lie back."

You did as he said, and he crawled over you, kicking his jeans off. He grabbed your thighs, tugging them to his waist as he lined his cock up to your entrance, tip rubbing against your clit.

"Can I?"

"Yes," You breathed. "Please."

"I'll give you just what you deserve, sweetheart," He grunted, his cock sliding slowly into your pussy. He let out a long sigh, basking in the way your walls took him in, how easy it was to glide in against the natural lubrication.

You moaned, your pussy stretching to accommodate his large size. It was uncomfortable for a few moments, before he began thrusting his hips against you. He leaned down, head beside yours as he rounded his hips, nudging his cock deep inside. You were all moans, body no longer able to do anything but obey. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding onto him.

"Takin' this cock so well," He said in your ear. Your eyes nearly rolled in your skull, squeezing shut. "Gonna make you cum for me."

"Keep talking like that, please," You whispered, eyes opening to watch him.

He groaned, "Been wonderin' what you'd sound like on my cock."

"Oh my-" You couldn't even manage to get out another word, another coherent sentence, so you relied on his name. "Simon."

"Fuck," He groaned in your ear. "So fuckin' wet."

"So good," You breathed.

His hips drove into yours, his pelvis hitting your clit repeatedly. His thick cock massaged your walls and it was nearly too much. You arched your back, toes curling, thighs clenching around his waist.

His body pressed against yours, neck craned to look at you from beside your head, watching your lips part as you gasped for air; he wanted to etch the vision behind his eyes. Your skin was flushed, fingers clawing at his back, hand cradling his head against your neck. He was repeatedly burying himself inside you, massaging your clit at the same time, and you couldn't hold back.

"F-fuck," You moaned. "Fuck- Simon," You gasped, pussy clenching around him.

"You gonna cum for me?" He asked, his hand moving back to grip your thigh.

You choked out a 'yes' as he bottomed out inside you, tip pressing against your cervix. You felt the sparks of pleasure level out over your body, enveloping you in a full-fledged fire, every nerve lit up with pleasure.

Your chest met his, tensing as your orgasm made your body rigid. He didn't relent, though the way you held him so tightly and whispered his name made it increasingly difficult not to.

"Simon," You moaned, eyes widening as you looked at him, lips parted with pleasure. "So good, Simon."

He groaned, listening to your swollen lips call his name, his cock twitched inside you. Your small frame, innocent eyes, soft thighs wrapped around him while he stroked his cock in your tight, wet pussy; if he was a lesser man be would've finished inside you immediately without hesitation. But he wanted to experience it all for as long as he could.

"That's right, sweetheart," He rolled his hips again. "Fuck you feel good."

Your fingernails scraped down his back, his muscles flexing as he moved. He exhaled sharply. Your thighs were squeezing his waist, and his fingers were surely bruising the delicate skin, but you didn't care.

He devoured your moans with his lips, relishing the way you still groaned, even with his tongue in your mouth he could hear you. He could still feel you too, your sensitive pussy clenching around him every time he hit your clit.

"I want you to cum again," He said. "Let me make you cum again," He pleaded. He so desperately needed to see it again, needed to see you fall apart for him, call out for him.

"Don't stop," You said, pressing a kiss to his neck. It was desperate, an attempt to make him feel just as good as he had for you, and you kissed up his jaw when you heard a satisfied groan in his throat.

Your eyes rolled back, abdomen and pussy clenching as the tension in your stomach began to build again. It was unraveling quickly, crumbling when he praised you, talked to you, even looked at you.

"I'm-I'm close," You said, clinging to his shoulders. "Again."

He nearly laughed. "Yeah, love. Let it out, give it to me."

"Yes," You moaned, head thrown back. "Fuck yes."

Your climax wasn't far, another wave of pleasure pulling you under. You struggled for breath, your eyes squeezing shut, fingers digging into him.

He let out a short gasp, feeling exactly how tight you could hug his cock, and it sent him over the edge at nearly the same time.

"Where do you want it?" He asked, pulling out.

He was massaging his cock, and you took over, lowering yourself as he released over your breasts, thrusting forward in your hand.

"Fuuck," He drawled, seeing your breasts painted white with his cum.

You sat back, staring up at him. He leaned forward, kissing you softly.

"Definitely should've said something sooner," You teased.

"I've got you here now," He said, a small smile on his glowing face. "That's all I care about."

[ravenbloodshot]

Someone who gives me the same asshole vibe as Cha Eun Woo and Song Kang is Eunwoo's friend Kim Young Kwang (the actor) I really liked his drama and he is quite handsome but he looks like a sadist and super manipulative to me I'm not gonna lie? No matter how much I try I can't seem to get into him? He was also caught before whilst he was a model (when he was much much younger) talking about what he finds distasteful in women and he said really weird/sexist shit but it was childish af too, like he really didn't think before speaking but I like to give benefit of the doubt to the "youth" LMFAO (not really) but you know he's also Korean so I wasn't shocked, I said oh another one bites the dust 👏🏾☺️😋 Anyway there's something sweet about him (I'm probably reaching and trying to give him a compliment) but he really totally makes the hairs on back stand idk he gives me torturous type vibes? Maybe it's past life between me and him vibes LMFAO but I see evil, I know I'm not tripping, like the dark triad evil? Am I wrong? What energy do you feel from him, please let me know!! Like he looks like if he wasn't told right he'd hold people captivate or be that weird kid that's cruel to bugs? I wouldn't be surprised if he was a bully or humiliated people, especially women. Like you know the energy of a closeted man that hates on women? He looks like the type to say mean things in a joking manner and not even consider people "beneath" him? I feel he can be sweet but it is selective, like he may want something? Idk he feels fucking cold, like his eyes and his smile, no emotion etc I wouldn't be surprised if he has a disorder or something that makes him unemotional etc He's a major homebody too and he always acts uncomfortable in social situations etc, he probably is but maybe he really does has some disorder or something because he expresses that he wants to go home etc. Like I could see him being condescending like Song Kang and Cha Eun Woo too?

CEW always gives me the energy of misguided energy? Like if he were to be surrounded by good people who humbled him he could be okay? I always see some sentiment in him? He looks like people don't check him and out of all 3 he looks to me the most reflective, like if something happened it could give him a spiritual awakening etc and change his life. Like the type of guy that heals if he was loved right. CEW gives me I am a "twin" vibes, like he has a counterpart in this lifetime who's gonna have a profound effect on his life? He always looked like a redeemable soul to me? I don't know but the more he gets deeper into the industry and this cold, cruel, money driven environment he just gonna end up being unredeemable as well, in the deep end? Like he'll end up the worst out of the bunch? I hope he don't start doing drugs but he looks smart to me lol, I'll give him that much. The more I see actors/celebs the more coldness I see lol, some of them have really scary eyes.

It's hilarious to me that people found Song Kang cute, the mf gave me I'm bland and incompetent but have the audacity to be disgusted by you vibes. He generally looks like the type to sanitise his hands if he accidentally brushed past somebody he don't respect, he looks hella coddled too and a mamas boy. He literally admitted himself that he wore the same socks for months straight. He's probably the type that doesn't do the dishes or wash his clothes etc, like he young forever? I was shocked he was feeling Han So Hee LOL but she grown woman vibes and I think it's opposites attract. Her rough girl image, idgaf demeanour probably intrigued him. A part of him also looked like he was pretending, so people could talk about them, like he used her for a come up? He shot a show with that young pretty actress and the interviews (my demon) were a pain to watch. I could tell he found her stupid and you were RIGHT, he cannot hide his dissatisfaction well!! Like it was second hand embarrassment. He was also on another show with BP Jennie and he literally iced her lmfao, he didn't even look at her, he also pushed past another woman and was heavily disgusted by another older woman complimenting him, like how dare you compliment me when you not on my level? Like the type that wants people to ask for permission before they greet him? He called another woman by another name and said "that woman" and she was like "I am that woman, it's my name", as in he didn't even bother learning their names and she said to him don't you think it's too soon to speak casually (banmal/drop honorifics) and refer to me as "that" and that you should learn people's names etc. It baffles me how people give a pass to "handsome/pretty" people in the world and especially Korea? But more so handsome men because of sexism right? Like he was not careful of his behaviour at all but people thought he was "clueless" and cute. It's obvious when he thinks people aren't on his level etc and I think he's at a point where he generally believes he's made it, so he dgaf like yasss I don't need to kiss ass anymore, when he was simply just expected to be polite LOL 😂 I think it's a chore for him to treat people well, like he might think about the beneficial reason why he should give charity and help people? Like they broke, they can get up, I'm not, I work hard. Like simple minded? He's cut the nice act now and he said so himself, that he hates being perceived as cute and a little adorable boy but he masked himself as such and then complains? Probably because he finds his fans disgusting. I'm ngl he feels like that. I don't know lol! Don't mind me, I be popping out here and there and giving the lip and the tea LMFAO 🤣 I'll stop here! 💀

— Lip Service Girl 💄

Me and you must just be on the same wavelength. I think it's too much to say Kim Young Kwang has a disorder, but everything else, I agree.

Cha Eunwoo has the best energy out of the three. But he has his own bs that comes with him. He's not a bad guy, though, the other two .....🤷‍♀️

What sticks in my mind the most is Kim Young Kwangs' weird comments about women as well. Like it's okay to have preferences, but like damn....

[cyberexo]

Keep it Down! | Park Chanyeol x Fem Reader

“Your head is going to end up on a stick if you don’t shut up!”

word count: 1K

≪•◦ 0.1 🎧 0.1 ◦•≫

You sighed for the umpteenth time that day, already missing the lonely feeling of having no neighbour for the past couple of months, you'd do anything to go back, but you can't because now you're stuck with a tall empty headed doofus that doesn't know how to keep quiet.

He better thank god we don't share an apartment, I would've killed him a long time ago.

Park Chanyeol, he shared the 5th floor with in your apartment complex, and even though they were two separate apartments, that didn't stop him from making it feel like he was right there, screaming in your ear, making your eardrums feel like they were about to erupt. At first he seemed so sweet and kept to himself, the perfect type of neighbour to accompany yourself with, you were working full time as a nurse and worked long shifts with no mercy from your higher ups, during the day & night- sometimes you would just sleep at the hospital because you had absolutely no time to get home, by the time you would, you'd be lucky to sneak in an hours nap before you'd have to get up again.

The only reason you’re letting him get away with such disturbing buffoonery was because of how nice he was towards you at the start, he knew you were a nurse, always tried his best to keep quiet when he was alone or had friends over whenever you were home, letting them know that a hard working woman was next door trying sleep. And most times they’d be very understanding and stay quiet, they were only loud when you weren’t home, you had a sign up on your door saying you weren’t home in case anyone came knocking.

Of course because you were away too much you could give that idiot the benefit of the doubt that he just got used to you being away. But you should’ve known better, this was just a slick way for him to get you to be fond of him and his ruckus when the time was right, or maybe this was you letting off some steam? either way, you were home now and the no sign on the door was a clear indicator of such.

You sighed, again. Kicking your legs off your bed and sliding on your slippers, not caring to take a look in the mirror before you stomped your way to the door, unlocking it slowly whilst trying to get your thoughts in order. Stepping out into the cold landing that was between your apartments you got closer to his door, listening in to see how many voices you could pick up.

Sounds like it's only him.

You lazily lifted your hand up to knock on his door, but it swung open before you could even make contact with the cold oak wood.

"AH-"

Chanyeol lurched himself back into his apartment, startled by your sudden presence. With his hand on his heart and eyes squeezed shut as he tried to get back up on his feet. "Are you crazy? you almost gave me a heart attack!" he half screamed at you, finally on his feet and standing tall.

“Good! maybe then I wouldn’t have to suffer with this insufferable loudness of you and those speakers that I’m going to break over your big head!” you countered, folding your arms over your chest trying to look intimidating, of course him being the scaredy-cat he was, it worked- at least you think it did.

“I didn’t know you were home-“ “There’s no sign on my door doofus, I AM home. Now please for the last time, keep. It. Down!” and with that you spun back around and zoomed back into your apartment, slamming your door shut and locking it, leaving Chanyeol standing outside looking dumbfounded.

"Wow, she really needs a firework up her ass,"

≪•◦ 🎧 ◦•≫

Chanyeol made sure to check your door for any sign of you not being in every morning when he'd get up, trying to be considerate of your situation, when he moved into the complex he wasn't all that interested in the residents living in the same building as him, he just wanted more studio space, space for himself and also to be closer to friends & family so it was all convenient for him.

The day he moved in, for once you were home. Helping him move his boxes inside and even made him cookies to make him feel more welcomed, that gesture alone made Chanyeol grow fond of you overnight. It was nice being reminded that there was still hope in humanity and it just so happened to be his neighbour as well. He told you about his plans and why he was moving in here, you reciprocated by telling him where you work and that you may not be home often- making him appreciate your friendly gestures towards him even more.

Sooner or later he'd gotten accustomed to his new home and surroundings, and he'd check for the sign on your door and let his friends know when to keep it quiet. But now you were barely home, and he'd only check the door if he remembers to, 90% you weren't which is why the volumes emitting from his home had gotten nothing but louder. The walls in the complex were far from thin, but they weren't soundproof either.

He thought back on your little outburst just minutes ago, recalling your outfit of the day, clearly you had planned to stay in bed since you rocked up to his door in nothing but your black satin sleep dress and fluffy slippers to match, the way it adorned your curves perfectly. Not to mention that black, was his favourite colour. Chanyeol gulped at the vivid image in his mind, it being a while since he’s seen a woman with so much on display for him, leaving little to the imagination- wait.. you weren’t dressed for him, this was just what you wore around your apartment.

Now that he’s seen you like this, he won’t be able to unsee it. Sorry not sorry that’s just how men are, you were now his interest. He let a mischievous grin paint his pretty face, already thinking of a couple of ideas that wouldn’t appease to no one but himself.

“This is going to be so much fun!”

0.2

[baronessblixen]

I FIGURED IT OUT.

Okay, so, I gave Bill the benefit of the doubt in my Apologia analysis because, y'know, what do I know? Buuuut I remembered a little detail that made everything entirely unpalatable:

Maggie, I had assumed, was suffering in silence all those months to respect her daughter's wishes. I'd forgotten that she was a gossip, and that she'd spilled the beans about her daughter's infertility the DAY after Scully told her and kept pressing her about the baby's sex in S8 (which makes sense why Scully was deterred from finding out the gender/told no one, because if she can't-- or won't-- tell her mother, then why tell the world?)

How does this relate to Bill? Opening of Gethsemane he mentions he JUST got off his boat and sped (over to see Scully) to make it in time for the party... and ALSO made a point to question (read: mildly interrogate) if his sister had gotten her birthday card a few months ago; and Scully notes how odd that was for him to do... MEANING Maggie told him months ago; and the only reason why Bill hadn't confronted his sister about her cancer, yet, was because he was on a boat and unable to get in touch.

I will, however, give him the benefit of the doubt after Emily because he was (to my recollection) truly remorseful in the church. He also didn't have significant screentime after that, so I'll never know if he took his big foot off the pedal and decided a hands-off approach was the best policy. Again, not that type of series.

But in general: Maggie gossiped, Bill swooped in to assess what was going on, spilled the beans when Scully didn't confide in him (which, tbf, that's gotta hurt-- being left out of his sister's terminal diagnosis and only swooping in in time to see her die incidentally because Maggie gave him the heads up-- for both of them-- thinking her mom kept it private because she doesn't want to think about the deadline only to find out Maggie told Bill and her priest months ago), and ratted their mother out. Twice.

Sooooooooooooooooooo, I wanted to drop in and thank you for your thoughts from yesterday(?)-- got me to think and pull up some rusty quotes. (Now I'm REALLY excited to dig into this messy dynamic when I get around to finishing her family series. Some day. XDDD) Hats off to our discussion~. :DDDD

They really do have a messy dynamic, don't they? I love that cause it feels real. Yes, their mother is a gossip, and Bill tries to be the head of the family, and Scully is too private for her own good - and we never even met Charlie!

I know that wasn't part of your analysis yesterday, but I really hate that Maggie told Bill about his sister's infertility. That's really her thing and something she should have disclosed herself. But I suppose that's how it is with many parents. Still, I hate it. It feels like stripping Scully of her agency.

I always love your meta posts and I love discussing these things too. So thank you for your hard work!!

[tmwcs]

has yn (yes yn) ever tried to dom hee? cuz ofc heethan is the more dominant one but still.....i think he would like "omg ure so cute" rightttt or maybe would he give it a shot ?? :)))))))))))))))

Oh love...hehehehehe you actually kind of literally defined the "Jealous" one shot. did you read that? bc if you havent, man you have some premonition talent that you should look into expanding.

I would say the closest that that's ever happened, was in "Jealous" drabble which is a side event that takes place during HHP arc.

Also, the closest that y/n got, which wasn't really establishing dominance, but she def was being defiant, it was during the fight that she and heethan had that Tiff caused....i cant remember what chapter but it was shortly after Tiff was introduced in hhp. And if you recall....she tapped into her Eden, who is kind of dom. she's like femme fatale, she doesn't necessarily care about whipping her man, she just wants to be establish as his equal, which she does......but once in a while, such as the fight between her and ethan....ahem....it was battle for dominance which ended in irony. lol

Y/n is the sweet and soft side that we all have. While her Eden is the dark and twisted or sexual side that we all have (or majority of us for those that sincerely dont have it...although i beg to differ...especially if you're on tumblr) but in some of the smaus, especially recent ones like "Find the Bastard!" or even "Tables have Turned" y/n is kind of coming out of her own sweet shell and she has spoken towards heethan with a commanding tone or even gave him a taste of his own medicine (aka "behind you") but it's all during like silly and goofy moments. I would say in all seriousness, if she had tried to pull something off, as much as she wants to or could be dominant, one of two things will happen:

1.) Heeseung, as soft and gentle he is, he aint no bitch. He will joke and goof and let you have your moments, but if it was during intercourse or like a fight or something, the man will try to give you the benefit of the doubt (bc he is the rational type) and will set the tone and give you a warning (verybal or non verbal) and remind you that he is your man.

But lets say you dont heed his warnings....

2.) here comes Ethan. yup. you poked the bear and now he's awake, and as we all know, Ethan is a hard dom. I would classify heeseung being a med dom (not really soft but not too hard either, just in between) but Ethan is 100000000000% a hard dom and will man handle you like a barbie doll. He loves you, and he loves HARD....teaching you a lesson is actually enjoyable for him bc that just gives him a reason to instill a little bit of pain with the lovemaking, which he likes bc my man has a pain kink and a breeding kink....hes kind of a masochist but not a very brutal way. he's all about pleasing and being pleased (when it comest to you, ever since you came into the picture, he absolutely has no, NO interest in others) which that was kind of always the case, but it's like 10 times worse since he has you now.

it's like....have you ever had a doll or something, like a piece of jewelry or something, and you like it and keep it because it looks so pretty. but then you come across a piece of jewelry that is way sparklier, its bigger, has better clarity in the gemstones, shiny, and just more beautiful than any other jewelry you have in your box.....that's kind of what he went through when he found you.

[countlessrealities]

@petalsxfallen sent: (rejuvenated Petal for Rick) Send me Ⓐ and my muse will rate yours || No longer accepting

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

"I-I like her punk style better, i-it fits my type more, b-but I can't say that she's ugly o-or not good looking e-even with that weird ballerina-like outfit. An-And Sum-Sum has been introducing her to fashion, s-so something tells me s-she'll ditch that style soon enough."

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted || egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

"S-She's a little too nice an-and vanilla for my tastes, b-but I'm training her to be better. T-That bitch vibe she had before...H-Here I say it and here I deny it, b-but I almost miss it at times. I-It was way more stimulating. S-She can be engaging and shit, b-but not as much as before. An-And, fuck, at times she gets as anxious as Morty. T-That's a pain to deal with. B-But...well, I guess that her being cheerful an-and shit helps from time to time. I-It's a good distraction from the angsty crap."

How likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex

"B-Been there, done that, will do again soon. S-She's one of the people I fuck regularly. N-Never planned of it becoming a thing, but...I-It happened." A shrug. "I-I don't seen anything wrong with it. W-We're both consenting adults an-and we both enjoy it. T-That's all that matters." And impish smirk curls his lips. "S-She's getting pretty good at stroking something else, a-aside from my ego. I-If you get what I mean."

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend

"S-Since she hangs out with me an-and actually talks to me, u-unlike her regular self, y-yeah, I think that we're pals by now. An-And fuck buddies too, obviously."

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

"W-When she firstly popped up, I-I thought that she was going to be a-an even bigger pain in my ass than before. I-It was real fuckin' weird to see her acting s-so unlike Petal, i-it took me a while to get used to it. An-And yeah, maybe I was a little paranoid. B-But I gave her the benefit of doubt an-and it turned out that it wasn't s-some over complicated plot."

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

"S-She's fun to have around. S-She makes it really fuckin' easy to tease an-and I have a blast doing it. B-But she also keeps up well, e-especially when it comes to getting wasted or-or learning how to let loose. I-I like that. Tha-This stick up her ass came out way more easily. An-And I gotta say, s-she can be sexy at times, e-even if she doesn't realise it."

How good of a kisser:

worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed

"S-She tries, I'll give her that, b-but she needs a fuckin' lot of practice."

[rachelxhan]

"Pendente lite. Copy." Rachel shared with a nod as she didn't see why that would come into conversation, unless he was talking to fellow lawyer or client or someone else in the legal system that was telling an anecdote of some kind. She shooed those scenarios out of her mind, however she was thrown off at the way Saul looked at her when she mentioned his son. "Um...yes...I didn't realize that he was back." She studied his face, unsure if she should have told him that right now. Well, she figured he would want to know that he was here, so she couldn't imagine hiding that from him even if it was to protect him.

When he mentioned that his second ex-wife was back in New York, she gave a slow nod. Rachel could believe it being a long story. Having an ex-spouse of her own, she for sure could understand complicated and long stories. She also understood multiple sides to stories and perspective being something that could be skewed in many ways. "We can talk about it later...or not." She gave a shrug towards Saul, not wanting him to think he needed to explain himself to her unless he just felt like it. Giving a scrunch of her nose in return, she let her face relax and shook her head. "It was my pleasure to be your plus one, Mr. Weissberg." Rachel gave a little bow of her head.

She let out a small sigh as he reassured her yet again he wasn't going to just ditch her. "I know, I know Saul. I was just messing with you, I promise. I don't think you would just leave me out in the cold." Rachel didn't quite know that for sure, it wasn't anything against Saul, but even as trusting she could be of others and liked to give pretty much everyone the benefit of the doubt, there were few people she could count on for anything. She could see herself getting to that point where she could trust Saul for anything, but she also didn't feel like he owed her anything.

Rachel laughed softly at his shock, shaking her head. "Nope, unless we're counting the putt-putt or mini golf variety." She admitted, though her parents had both successful careers that brought in quite a bit of money they didn't have much time to go golfing. They had barely even enjoyed tennis enough to keep up with it. She raised her brow at Saul's offer. "Are you going to be my instructor? Try to do that move where you stand behind me?" Rachel smirked a bit, teasing him as she knew that was such a classic move. "A whole room named after you? What type of room would you want it to be?" She pondered aloud as she figured that someone would have some say in the matter as to what room their name would be, usually it was the one they donated to build or something. Certainly there was a specific amount one would have to give for that situation. Rachel let the thoughts slip away as she smiled as she looped her arm through Saul's and gave his arm muscle a small squeeze before placing his hand in the crook of his elbow. "Oh yes let's!"

saul smirked, amused. “okay, hypothetically if i need an out, my code word will be…” he paused to think about it, “pendente lite. it’s a temporary order issued by the court during a suit. i can’t see that naturally coming up in conversation.” saul figured rachel knew what that meant from working as a journalist, but since not everyone lived and breathed legalese like saul did, he couldn’t help the natural instinct to explain. he nodded along as she began to list the people that were often found in his orbit—by their choice or not—but he winced at the mention of thalia, just an hour or so after yelling at his third ex-wife in the courtyard now, and then any trace of mirth dropped the moment she said his son’s name. “micah?” saul repeated, brow furrowing. 

“you saw micah? here at the luncheon?” he asked, instantly picking his head up to swivel around the room for a familiar mop of voluminous black hair—much like his mother’s. the man he hadn’t seen in a whole month now was still missing from the banquet hall from what he could immediately see, but he assumed rachel wouldn’t lie or make a cruel joke like that. “and tamara actually left blue harbor and went back to new york, it’s a long story.” saul tacked on quickly, turning his attention back to rachel. his eyes narrowed playfully when she took back the offer to get him a drink, nose scrunching slightly, but his mind was still racing with the news about micah’s sudden reappearance in town. “escorting it is, since you were kind enough to accompany me here today.”

saul couldn’t help but wonder just how many dates in rachel’s life had she gone on where someone abandoned her for someone else. if they had, then they were fucking idiots to miss out on her company. “if i had to leave you behind at any event, or anywhere in general, i would make sure you had a way to get home. i’m a gentleman sometimes, y’know.” just sometimes, though. “hm, never! if you ever need a pep talk, you know where to find me.” it was easy for him to lavish his friends with compliments like he did with his money. “you’ve never played golf?” that was a little shocking to saul, but he grew up a blue blood; it was expected that he learned how to play at a young age, along with tennis and croquet. “if you ever want a lesson, just let me know. i can set up a tee time for us any day. the club kind of owes it to me. they should name a room here after me, actually.” he dropped his grip on her shoulder but quickly offered his arm, “c’mon, let’s get another drink.”

[beakeoghan]

run right back

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x fem!reader

Summary: It's your birthday and Diego finally cleans himself up to meet you.

Word count: 1.4k words

Warnings: Mentions of blood and bruises. Fluff and sweet, maybe Diego is out of character but I tried.

Author’s note: I joined Tumblr just a while ago - maybe a little more than a month. I had the pleasure to meet some amazing people here, and I came across the beautiful and sweet @aphrogeneias who took me in and didn't mind that I was this annoying piece of a person. Today is her birthday and I just wanted to write her something to tell her how special she is! Lu, it has been 27 days since we followed each other, and 25 years since the world was blessed with your presence. Feliz aniversário, baby 🤍 (And to follow up with the tradition, the story was based on Run Right Back by The Black Keys)

You had no recollection of him ever being on time.

On your first date, you suggested you would both go to a café nearby, and sure enough, he was late with his face patched up a bit and dried bloodstains on his sleeves. It was a red flag - your friends agreed that it was a huge one - but you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“You know, I just can’t let innocent people suffer in the hands of bad guys.” He snorted while eating the pastry he had ordered for himself. Too rough to notice the crumbs accumulating near his clothes.

At least he seemed genuinely concerned and asked you a bunch of questions about yourself — to which he listened carefully. Maybe it was too soon to know if he was paying attention because he wanted to or because he was collecting facts about you. Either way, the way he seemed to understand you was enough to keep this friendship blossoming.

On your second date, he was supposed to come over. You would cook together, clean up together, maybe you were even thinking about something a little more spice for that day. But no. You ended up ordering greasy pizza from the store downstairs from your place, the only opened restaurant at that hour. And it frankly wasn’t the best date idea you had in your mind.

The following dates were mainly spontaneous ones. He would text you or show up at your house. In odd hours, sometimes with purple bruises on his stomach and cuts on his face that would need to be taken care of — something you had to get used to, after all, you knew that your new boyfriend had this hero complex.

“Diego, I can’t believe you’re doing this on my birthday…” You murmured to yourself, picking up your phone to call him for the third time. He was almost an hour late, for god sake, couldn’t he just not play the vigilante on this particular date?

It was a mystery to know why you still stuck around him, even after you knew about his family history. But truthfully, it was because you needed each other. He cared so much for you, and you cared so much about him, it was like you had ten different lovers in just one — the hero, the dorky himbo, the protective best friend, the mindblowing lover. The list could go on. Mostly, as hard as it was to admit, you would do anything for each other. A type of love like this was quite rare to find nowadays.

“Screw this.” You said under your breath. Your friends were at the carnival fair happening near the docks. You said you probably wouldn’t be able to go since you were spending time with Diego, but well. Change of plans.

Upon arriving, you received a text message from your friend. She said they were close to one of the stands with balloons you had to strike to win the prizes. The carnival wasn't nearly as crowded as it used to be. It was dark and you could hardly see the main attractions. It was fairly easy to find them since it seemed to be the only place with lights on and fully functioning.

You looked around for a bit before seeing the familiar faces greeting you with a warm smile and sloppy hugs. They were playing this game where you had to throw knives at the targets, the main prize seemed to be this huge teddy bear you weren't even sure why they wanted.

"Birthday girl, could you maybe use your special day luck and try to strike that last balloon right there?" One of your friends gave you the second to last knife, winking at you.

The irony was that on your special day, your obsessed-with-knives boyfriend was nowhere to be found. But you wouldn't let this take away the fact that it still was your day.

"Alright, I'll teach you!" You said with a chuckle, handling the knife carefully, aiming at the target with one eye squinted to get a better grip.

Suddenly a familiar raspy voice approached your ear, you could feel that he was smiling. His left hand is on your waist, wrapping your body against him. "Honey, I've shown you a thousand times. That's not how you hold it."

You crooked your head to the side, his chin was now resting on your shoulder. "Diego?" As you said it, you turned around to look at him.

He was dressed differently. The all-black uniform that he wore most days was now switched to a deep navy green shirt and a pair of dark jeans. His gadgets were not in his waist anymore, his beard and hair were trimmed. Your face lit up with the brightest smile and you chuckled.

"Yeah, I know. I look hot." He smiled revealing the rose bouquet hidden behind his back. "Happy birthday, my darling girl." He offered you the flowers, approaching you and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As if planned - and thinking about it, it probably was - the lights around the carousel, the Ferris wheel, and all the other attractions that seemed lifeless seconds ago, began to function. The whole place was shining bright again, songs from your favorite playlist could be heard from miles.

"How did you do that?" You inhaled deeply into his chest, taking your time before looking up to him again.

"Well, I'm always late and away most days, so I thought I'd disappoint you again to win you over, again." He laughed, wrapping you with his arms, careful not to smash the flowers you were holding. "And since you are not particularly a fan of crowded places, I closed down the park and invited your closest friends."

Before you could say something, a couple more of your friends started showing up, yelling happy birthday and clapping their hands with joyful laughter filling up the celebration. You smiled, embarrassed about the spot he had put you into. You still couldn't believe it, but your eyes sparkled, grateful for your amazing boyfriend. "You didn't have to."

"I know I didn't have to." He slowly reached for your yearning lips, softly filling you up with butterflies on your stomach. “But I wanted to."

"And may I know why you took so long? I thought you had run away from me."

"I had to get dressed up. I bet this was the biggest surprise of the night." He laughed, his eyes tenderly looking into yours. His hand brushed off a little strain of hair lock falling on your face. "Besides, I would never run away from you. Every day when I'm out doing my thing, all I can think about is to run right back to you."

You wanted to ask him how he managed to do this, or even why he would go through all this trouble. Close down the whole fair just for you was a little beyond what you expected, especially knowing Diego’s careless way to show his feelings. On second thought, though, it made sense. He isn’t a guy who says too much, he rather prefers to show you. Instead of pretty words and epic poems, he would always come over with your favorite food at 2 am, escort you to work on early mornings, pick you up on the days when you would get out late from there.

He would also lay in bed until the sun comes up, softly caressing your cheeks and then laugh at you when you woke up, reminding you that you promised to stay awake this time.

Despite all of the rough moments of your relationship, mostly involving the fact you hated seeing him hurt, you knew that he would always be there for you. Because after all, even though he was late sometimes, he always showed up. Beaten up stomach, bloody knives, purple bruises, and tired eyes, but he was running back to you. And you always ran back to him.

[robinofgothamcity]

scenario: you start seeing Jon which leads to the two of you having to hide it from your family and especially Damian.

pairing: jon kent ( superboy ) x fem! reader

note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / can you tell my kent family hyperfixation hasn't left yet? i swear it's becoming an issue lmaooo but this might actually be the longest fic i've written for this blog.

you talked with your friends who you had snuck into the gala with. Rachel had begrudgingly agreed to come to meanwhile Cass and Steph were the only other ones who agreed to come on their own accord.

"Damian, your only friend is here," Dick said, earning a kick from his younger brother before getting up and leaving you and Raven alone. you knew it was a rare occasion that she even decided to show up so you didn't want to leave her alone. "we probably won't see my brother for the rest of the night. whenever his friend comes, it's like everyone becomes a background character. for him being my adopted 'twin' brother, I have yet to meet this friend."

Raven laughed as you saw the wine that the couple on the dance left on your table drunkenly. the bottle was little more than half-filled and you gave one quick look to Raven before pouring the wine into both of your glasses and discarding it right away.

"to not having fun for the rest of the night," you giggled as the two of you chugged the wine down in a mere few seconds, "drier than I thought it would be but it beats having to pay for it," Raven muttered as you agreed to sneak another bottle from the bartender so you wouldn't have to pay for it. even with your dad paying for all your necessities, the drinks at his galas were far too expensive for you to even willingly pay for them yourself. the only reason why he even paid for all your expenses was because you agreed to skip out on college to help run some parts of Wayne Enterprises with your brother.

another reason why you couldn't exactly go and pay for it yourself was because Bruce was not one to exactly be chippy at the idea of you getting plastered drunk at one of his public galas. "I got one of two ideas. one: I'll go flirt with the bartender and you can sneak behind him and get the other bottle or two: I can flirt with the bartender for enough time to see if he'll just willingly give it to us," you told Raven as she nodded with option two.

the bartender happened to be in his younger 50s. you recognized him from previous WE events and although he was familiar with your family, you doubted that he would say anything to your dad about you flirting him with. all you had to do was push the top of the dress down a bit and hike up the bottom to get his attention.

"hey Martin," you said, leaning up against the bar table and smiling, "enjoying the night?" you asked as you saw him flinch back in surprise. he nodded, trying to divert his eyes from looking at you in anyway you could have felt to be disrespectful.

"I was thinking, how much does the bottle of Lafite Rothschild go for?" you asked, giving him a pouty face. he gulped nervously, "almost ten grand ma'am," he replied, grabbing it from the wine stand, "even for me? I mean, my dad must've paid for it so does it even go for that much considering I am his child?" he asked.

you could tell that you had caught him in a predicament, "I would assume not, I assume you're twenty one, right?" he murmured, handing you the precious bottle. you smiled (a fake one that anyone could see through) and nodded before giving the old man a light kiss on the cheek, "thanks Martin, I appreciate it," you said, giving him a wave before leaving.

Raven perked up seeing the bottle in your hand, "snagged a ten thousand dollar bottle," you said excitedly as you waved it in your hand. Raven stared at you in shock, "you got a ten thousand dollar bottle in less than five minutes?" she exclaimed.

you giggled before whispering in her ear, "the benefits of being a child of Bruce Wayne is that you can practically get away with anything. especially when you're the daughter." you popped open the bottle as you handed her the wine glass and poured the drink with care. you gave her a slight cheers before taking a small sip and being pleasantly surprised that it wasn't as dry for a wine with a huge amount of alcohol percentage.

as the night progressed, you and Raven got actively more drunk. you hadn't realized how hard the wine had hit you until Raven was drunkenly getting pulled home by Gar as you sat at the table with a little less than the bottle still full. you hadn't seen your dad or brother all night and you figured they must've been pulled into doing Batfamily work at some point and left you alone with Steph or Cass. hell, maybe even Dick if he was still around.

you weren't actively apart of the vigilante work all of your siblings did but you did help them out with the technical parts of it when Tim wasn't available. you didn't really like fighting or risking your life so after you graduated, you interned at Wayne Enterprises under Tim's orders while Damian worked under your dad.

at the age of twenty-one, you still hadn't met most of the league for the exception of Wonder Woman and The Flash. the rest were strangers in your head and much to Damian's luck, he wanted to keep it that way. at least in his case with Jon.

"ow, I am so sorry," you slurred as you managed to hit someone on the shoulder. he chuckled seeing as how you were not attempting to get up, "you okay there ma'am?" the man with a southern accent asked. you giggled as you attempted to get up, "I'm ( your name ) and you are?" you asked.

"Jon Kent, pleasure to meet you," he said, kissing your hand. you blushed as you heard one of your favorite songs come through the speakers, "would you like to dance?" you asked, not even caring that you had met this just a few mere seconds ago. he nodded, figuring that since Damian left him stranded at the gala, he had nothing to lose.

the song 'telepatia' by Kali Uchis played throughout the ballroom. Jon immediately took the reigns as the lead as the lights got dimmer and you danced against Jon sensually. "what got you dragged here?" you asked Jon. "my best friend invited me as his plus one. you?" he whispered in your ear, "I work for the company so I kind of had to attend," you managed to say before turning around and facing him.

you looked at Jon with drunken yet loving eyes, "you're handsome, you know that?" you said with no hesitation in your face. Jon laughed, placing his hand on your cheek, "right back at ya, darlin'," he replied as the song switched to another one of your favorite songs.

side to side by ariana grande started.

you shrugged, feeling as though you had nothing to lose and got up on your toes gave Jon a kiss on his lips. he was slightly taken back but played it off by returning it. the two of you remained kissing through the entirety of the song until Jon felt a familiar tap on his shoulder.

"I gotta go but if you're up for it, I'd love for ya to give me your number," you nodded excitedly as you practically snatched his phone from his hand and typed it in as quickly as possible with your name having a hundred emoji's next to it, "text me in the morning!" you screamed.

Jon laughed before following Damian from behind, "you suck, you know that!" Jon exclaimed, "I meet one girl I actually like and you drag me away!" Damian rolled his eyes, "please, you act like there isn't more girls out there to hit on." this time, it was Jon's turn to roll his eyes, "I got her number so I guess that's a plus."

you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache but to a few messages on your phone. you smiled realizing that it was the boy you had met the night before.

"good morning...or actually good afternoon!"

Jon laughed from his side of the phone.

"good afternoon darlin'. I hope you had a good sleep."

you were texting your way down the stairs, greeting Alfred and Bruce before grabbing a plate of lunch and sitting down on the bar top. "what time you'd make it home?" Bruce asked, sensing the hangover you had. "a bit past midnight. drank a bottle of Lafite with Raven before dancing with a boy you invited," you said honestly.

Bruce felt himself go stiff at the admittance of you drinking the Lafite bottle but remained silent as Alfred placed Advil and one of your Gatorades next to you. "yeah, whoever must've danced with you last night must've been drunk too because you'd want to dance with you?" Damian said coming down the stairs.

you threw him a fork, Damian dodging it with ease, "I'd shut up if I were you. I'm actually getting coffee with the guy in like an hour," you replied, chugging down the rest of the food before getting up and going to your room, "yeah and I pray for the man who now has to deal with you," Damian screamed loud enough for you to hear.

you pulled on a skirt and tights before slipping on a sweater and fixing your hair and quickly doing your makeup. you grabbed the keys from your bag and took the back entrance to get to your car. one of the benefits of getting paid so much was that you were able to afford cars that were out of price range for a lot of people your age.

the coffee shop you decided to meet Jon at was a few blocks into the heart of central Gotham. you got a table farthest from the crowd as you didn't want any attention on you and your potential boyfriend. you saw Jon approaching at the front of the coffee shop and pulled on your sunglasses so no one outside could see who you were.

"nice to meet you, this time with me not being drunk," you told Jon, giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek, "pleasure is all mine sweetheart," he replied, putting his arm around your shoulder. you got up to the front of cashier and scanned the menu.

"I'd like a venti mocha with oatmilk, what about you?" you asked Jon as he scanned the menu nervously before muttering that he hardly orders coffee. you smiled, "and an order of a grande peppermint hot chocolate," you added on as you took your card out, Jon's eyes widening at the black American Express card.

"wow, Wayne Enterprises must pay you really well," he exasperated, "yeah, I guess you could say that," you said as hesitantly as possible. after the two of you got the coffees, you got back to the table as you took off your sunglasses in a sigh of relief.

"do you really wear sunglasses everywhere you go?" Jon asked. you debated on telling him the actual reason but decided on a vague answer, "eh, it's more for secrecy. I guess if I get another date, I might tell you the real reason," you winked, making Jon blush.

+

through the weeks, you decided to keep the biggest part of your life a semi secret to Jon still. he knew vaguely of a few things but one mistake on your end managed to throw all of that away in more ways than one.

you were walking downtown with Jon, his hand grasping yours as the two of you roamed an area of town that you knew didn't have major significance to WE. you were holding a coffee in one hand as you walked about a few things that happened to you that week to Jon. it wasn't until you walked towards a busy street that your heart fell to your stomach.

a huge billboard, like signs you would see on highways, of you and Damian representing Wayne Enterprises stood in the middle of an intersection. you stared at the ground, your one secret given away as Jon stared down at you, a look of shock in his eyes.

"wait, you work with Damian Wayne?" he asked as he could tell that you did not want to look at him. you sighed, a bit scared, "work partners might be a little too far from what we are," you gulped, finally realizing that you had to admit to your family ties.

Jon looked at you, now more confused than shocked.

what you didn't know was that at the same time that you were about to confess everything to Jon, a paparazzi had taken dozens of photos of you and Jon that were immediately uploaded to various Twitter accounts and gossip magazines.

"Damian Wayne is my adopted brother. Bruce Wayne is my adopted dad. that's why I have a lot more money than any regular Wayne Enterprise worker."

Jon immediately stumbled to the ground, not expecting that answer coming from you. you immediately felt tears hitting your eyes as you figured that maybe Jon didn't want to be with someone so rich and famous. someone's whose family was always in the spotlight.

"DAMIAN WAYNE IS YOUR BROTHER?" Jon screamed, catching you off guard as this was the first time Jon had ever screamed at you. you nodded, trying not to look at him in the eyes, "he's going to kill me. your entire family is going to plot my murder. I'm a dead man. Clark is going to find me in a ditch," Jon started talking to himself.

it was now your turn to look at Jon confused, "wait, what?" you asked, wiping your tears. "YOUR BROTHER IS MY BEST FRIEND. Damian Wayne is Robin and I'm Superboy!" he whispered the last part, "I've been dating my best friends sister this entire time without realizing it!" he screamed.

you finally connected the dots. every time Damian said he was going on patrol with Superboy meant that he was going to hang out with Jon and every time Damian said that Jon turned down a patrol session usually meant that you were going on a date with him. both of you stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

"small world, eh?" you asked, trying to defuse the tension, "guess we better figure out a way to tell them, huh?" Jon replied as you both heard your phone going off with texts and calls. you opened it to see that Dick, Bruce, Tim, and even Jason and Alfred were frantically calling you.

"hello, what happened?" you asked, picking up Dick's call. "GET HOME NOW!" he yelled through the phone as you heard Damian's screeching voice from the other side, "why? what happened?" you asked, staring at Jon now in fear.

"SHE'S DATING JON? I'M GOING TO KILL HIM BEFORE I KILL HER!" you heard Damian scream before something broke, "pictures of you kissing Jon came to the public on Twitter and he saw them," Jason said, half annoyed.

both of your hearts fell to your stomach as you realized it was now or never. everyone knew of your relationship and it wasn't even something both of you tried to do intentionally. you grabbed Jon's hand, yours shaking in fear as you got into the passenger side of his beat up red truck. he could tell you were beyond scared to go home and he now knew it was time. he had to man up before it got worse and you attempted to break up with him.

once you arrived to Wayne Manor, you sat still, not moving an inch. "it'll be okay darlin', I promise it won't be too bad," he murmured as he opened your door. you nodded as you hopped off and started walking towards the door.

you could hear Damian's yells still going on from the other side door as you opened it. you grasped Jon's hand and walked into the living space, Damian's eyes immediately looking at you before charging to Jon with every ounce of strength he had. Jason quickly grabbed you as Jon dodged him and Damian went straight to attack him again. you couldn't bare to look at the sight and felt tears spring to your eyes as you hid your face into Jason's side.

"hey, you okay?" Jason asked. he could see the tears in your eyes which instantly made him a bit upset. "enough," Jason screamed, catching everyone's attention. Jon and Damian saw the hurt look on your face and as soon as Jon realized you were upset at the fight he was having, he kicked Damian off of him and walked towards you.

he grabbed your hand and whispered an apology into your ear as he stroked your cheek lovingly, "I'm sorry dear but I wasn't expecting Damian to do this," Jon said as Damian watched the way Jon was treating you. a part of him knew that Jon would treat you right. Jon wasn't like your typical average boy but the fact that neither of you told him is what set him off and seeing you being so lovingly with Jon set him off again.

Damian ran towards Jon again but this time, you shielded him which made him stop immediately, "Damian, stop, please," you croaked. Bruce saw you trying to neutralize the situation and stood next to Damian, hinting at him to quit it, "I'm sorry we never told you but the reason why we never did was because we had no idea who the other was. I didn't know Jon was your best friend and clearly didn't know that he was Superboy and he had no idea I was even related to you nevertheless your sister. please, if it's anyone's fault, it's mine," you explained.

Dick, Jason, and Tim stared at Jon who grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side, "and I would have never made the move if I knew she was your sister but we fell in love and it was like a soulmate connection. we were meant for each other and I want her to be in my life. she's it for me," Dick sighed mesmerized as Tim and Jason gagged at the cheesy confession.

Damian growled, "if you even think of hurting her, Clark will be down one son and I mean it. that's my sister and no man will ever be good enough for her. you are my best friend and she might be a pain in my ass, she means the world to me. I will not hesitate to dig your grave and bury you alive if I see one tear of sadness coming down her face," Damian stated before hitting Jon on the shoulder purposely before walking away.

you smiled, your heart swelling at Damian's speech. he never once said anything like that about you and in his Damian way of being, you knew this was his way of accepting your relationship with Jon. you smiled at Jon before giving him a huge kiss on the lips, making your dad and all of your brothers gag at the sight.

"okay, save that shit for privacy, no one needs to see that," Jason said as he walked away. Bruce gave you one look before turning to Jon, "your father knows in case you were wondering but feel free to stay for dinner if you'd like," Bruce said before walking away with Tim and Dick walking away with him.

"I love you," you whispered to Jon as he let out a laugh against your lips, "I love you too and I'm all of this was cleared out." you nodded in agreement as you grasped his hand, "wanna come up to my room? I figured we should catch some sleep before Alfred calls everyone for dinner and Damian starts another fight," Jon agreed, giving you a kiss on your head as the two of you walked up the stairs.

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 11 - Fightin’ Words - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] to clarify before I begin, I do NOT hate Faye. There will be a following chapter to explain how we got from point A to point B, since now that I see it, this chapter seems like a stretch. I apologize if the writing is a little shitty, I got too excited when writing it, and I was basically vomiting words onto my screen. Enjoy!

Previous chapter: Ch.10

⛔️ WARNING: this chapter contains implied sexual content, drinking, and strong language

-

There is a clear difference in kissing. One was for lust, meant to excite and give pleasure to the receiving, as a plus on to tie in all the ingridients for good sex. The other was for love, showing affection and those deep emotional feelings that both parties were in need of.

The lines were blurring.

Wanting this to be a strictly physical relationship, other elements started to incorporate their way into your escapades. And now Spike knows almost everything about you. Eating habits, what makes you laugh, and the type of people you hate. Talking for hours on end, both of life and it’s ridiculous nature, there was no off time between you both. It felt good.

The quiet moment after you left his room for your own, a faltering feeling of sadness and loneliness enters Spike. The urge to grab you and bring you back to his bed for the night was strong. He tried to get you to stay (always subtly), but to no avail. Well aware of your need for space, he always respected your decision.

The crank that was once rusty, was in Spike’s head as his mind ran endlessly of if you liked him or not. It was a thought, a discussion he wanted to put off for so long. The consequences of his doubt were going to hurt, especially when it was going to be that time to go. The reassurance that this was only a fling, a friends with benefits deal, was on its way to be tossed out of the trash chute into space.

“Trust me, Spiegel, I’ve had plenty of time as a child to know what I’m talking about.” You said as Spike passed you his cigarette.

“About what?” He asked, completely clueless.

“Rocks. Crystals, geodes. Have you not been listening?” You scolded, scoffing as Spike shook his head.

“The library in the city gave the orphanage books they didn't want anymore. My favorite book was the one about rocks on Mars, of course it was simplified for my small brain…”

Head in his hand, Spike listened as you rambled mindlessly of all the different rock formations on Mars. As much as he wanted to learn, he couldn’t help but be distracted by his acknowledgment of your presence. More specifically, the air you brought in the room. Spike began to think of it as his favorite perfume, sweet and sultry, with a hint of spice. It made him feel safe.

You were so attractive when you were educating him. He hated to hear it from Jet or anyone else, but you made it interesting.

“You’re pretty hot.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah thanks. Anyways, like I was saying…”You replied, flattered by his sudden proclamation.

“I’m serious. You’re talking all smart to me, and I can’t help but tell you that.” Spike smirked. “I think I learned more from you than in high school.”

You laughed softly. “I tell you because I know you’re dumber than a bag of hammers.”

“Is that so?” Spike raised his eyebrows. Why was your teasing making him feel even better? “You’re going to regret saying that.”

“I only have one, and not that.” You smiled slyly, the glint in Spike’s eye becoming more noticeable.

“I’m about to make it two.”

“I would love to see you try.”

You put your hands up to defend yourself, Spike’s smooth moves rendering you helpless. In a second, he had your arms pinned down by your sides, a deep throated chuckle emitting from him as he watched you struggle. There was no danger but that of falling to his charm and whim.

“I don’t regret this.” You panted.

“Sounds like the best decision I’ve made.” Spike mumbled, gaze traveling all over your face. He brushes the stray hairs from your face, fingers tracing your hairline and ears. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your neck, threatening to brush his lips on yours.

“Can I ask you something?” Spike broke the silence. You nodded eagerly.

“I-“ He began, cut off by the loud knocking on the door.

“Spike? Spike? Are you there?” Jet called out.

There is no answer, except you panicking over whether Jet sees you naked or sprawled out on Spike’s bed. The only sound that could’ve been heard was the thuds of you scrambling around the room, looking for your bra and panties. Spike watches in amusement, not caring at all at the dilemma you both were in.

“Yeah?” Spike called out, the clink of his lighter going off.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come up to the bridge for a drink, got a few good bottles of gin from our last bounty.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Good.” Jet finished. Footsteps drew further away down the hallway and supposdely onto the stairs. You sighed in relief, getting dressed at a leisurely pace. Safe, once again.

“Y/n, you can come too if you would like.” The loud booming laughter of Jet filled the hallway, masking your dread.

This evening was going to be delightful.

-

“Where's the gin?” You said in confidence, like you weren’t just caught in Spike’s room. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the slight limp in your step either.

“I have it, but I knew it would be a good bait to get some help up here.” He replied.

“Then I want at least half the bottle as a down payment. And an apology.” You scowled, taking a peek on the holo computer, skimming over the briefing for the next bounty.

Jet chuckled. “Now young lady, I have something very important to ask you.”

“Huh, you and Spike. I’m not too scared of yours.” You glanced at him, sitting in his seat.

Jet rested himself against the table, nodding. “I was going to say that us boys and Ed really enjoy you here. These last few months have been the best one this ship has seen in a while, and you are welcome to stay however long you want, kid.”

You knew you were doing well, but now you caught the bag. Jackpot. “You’re just saying that because I feed you all.”

“That's part of it too.” Jet grinned. “But I’m serious, (y/n). I think all of us could vote in favor of a new crew member. What do you say?”

Thinking, you remembered your freedom, sought as a child. That’s all you ever wanted, was to be out and allowed to do whatever you could. But deep down, the thing you really needed was a home. A family.

You could find that here on the Bebop. Even if you got a rocky start, it was smooth sailing for now. You felt wanted. That’s what you needed.

“Doesn’t sound too bad. I’m down.” You beamed.

“Glad you agreed, or else it would’ve been real awkward if you said no.” Jet replied, giving you a soft pat on your back.

“Mmm, would you kick me out if I declined this most generous offer?” You teased.

“Kid, you have my respect, I would let you pack first then throw you out.”

You cracked up, the deal was done. As you sat in your new home, you couldn't help but feel eternally grateful. “I really owe you one, Jet. You really got me out of a tight spot.”

Jet nodded as he searched for something on the control board.

“Was..was that how Spike came around? Picked him up like a stray?” You asked, surprised at your brazen question.

Jet stops messing with the controls, paused as he tries to peace his words together. “To be honest, I can’t even remember when or how Spike joined me here. He just popped up one day, and I haven’t been able to shake him off.” Jet gave a small titter. “Ah, (y/n). The man’s been through it tough.”

“Can I ask?” You said meekly.

“All that time spent together, and he hasn’t told you?” Jet chaffed, a smirk starting to grow.

Shit. “We haven’t spent much time talking today.” Fuck it, no use in denying it now.

“That’s what I thought.” He snickered. “Well, let me put it this way. A heartbroken man is a lonely one. He roams the galaxy in search of finding a way to fill the void left in him, either desperate to find something new. Or leave the void empty, allowing himself to wither away peacefully.”

“Hmm.” You replied shortly. A lot wasn't said, but it made sense.

“I’m only saying this once, (Y/n). He’s changing, and for the better. I haven’t seen him smile so much sober. I have to thank you for that.”

You made a change, as small as it was. You hear footsteps approaching the bridge, the sliding door opening to reveal Spike. As he quietly passes you by, he shoots you a small wink, making you blush. Spike sits down with a sigh, his legs propped up on the control panel.

“Easy, I’m still working there.” Jet warns as he hands Spike a drink.

“Then how come you're not sitting here?” He smirks, side-eyeing you to watch him kick up dirt.

You smile back, letting their conversation fade away slowly. This moment, you had to screenshot it. It doesn’t look like a normal family, but it wasn't dysfunctional. You had a crazy red haired computer genius as a sibling, along with a dog that you think could do math better than you. It topped nicely with a protective mentor and teacher with one robotic arm, and a man who you didn't think you could even get near without getting your arm bitten off.

Someone was missing. She hasn’t been seen all day, but that’s typical. As an official member of the Bebop, there was no back burner now. You could turn off your predatory instinct on your prey. The hunt on Faye was over. You didn't have to be her best friend, just tolerate her attitude enough when she decides to stay on the ship for longer than a day. You really didn't want to fight her, but sometimes she made it so difficult. Besides, you were too tired anyways.

The little get together was carrying on joyfully, now joined by Ed and Ein. Ed wandered aimlessly in all directions on the bridge, babbling on about all the buttons and flashing lights. You sat next to Spike in your own chair, feeling the small soft padded pushes of Ein on your legs.

“What is it boy?” You asked sweetly, reaching down to rub the top of his ears. He jumps on his hind legs, trying his best to climb up onto your lap. You cooed at him, picking him up and placing him snuggly on your thighs. You swore you could’ve seen him smile as your pet his fluffy face, massaging his soft head.

Spike leaned over, whispering. “Do you think I can get a massage too?”

Before you could respond, Ein gave a small huff, one eye opening to watch out for his competition. “I’m sorry, but the baby said no.”

Jet laughed as Spike smiled. You looked down to see that Spike’s glass was still full, while Jets was drained of all gin. You were working on yours at a slower pace. “You don’t feel like drinking tonight?”

“Hmm?” Spike looked down at his drink, sloshing it against its glass walls. “ Oh, I’ll get to it.” He said before reaching out and touching your back gently, his fingers tracing circles on your spine.

What a win-win situation, Ein gets to be loved on and you get to be petted, you thought. Goosebumps rose on your arms as Spike continued. The sky turned to night, all the stars in the galaxy could be seen from the bridge’s giant front window. Ed was curled up in a ball in front of it, tuckering herself out. Ein provided some warmth to Ed, loafing on Ed’s stomach. Their snores mixed in together, obnoxiously loud, but incredibly cute.

Spike never got to his drink, so he offered it to you instead. Two was all you needed to finish off the night. You took over Ein’s spot on Spike’s lap, your arms wrapped around his neck as you conversated with the boys. His hands rubbed the side part of your stomach before interlocking, his heated palms providing comfort. You wouldn’t mind falling asleep here.

The flash of Faye’s Redtail blinded you as she clumsily parked out on the flight deck. You didn't care as long as she didnt destroy the hangar, then you all would be in huge trouble.

“She’s home early.” Jet stated, watching as she stumbled out of the ship.

“It’s not even midnight yet. Think she missed us?” Spike called out sarcastically.

“Doubt it.”

This was the last of peaceful silence for the night, you thought. You were hoping not to jinx it.

BAM!

Everybody around you whipped their heads to the source of the sound, except yours, because you knew exactly who it was and what was going to happen. Ein used Ed’s stomach as a launching pad, frightened at the loud noise. What could you say, you have a knack for sensing a challenge. The only thing was, you were not in a mood to seek it. It was brought to you, sucking all good energy out of the room and switching it to a fireball of jealousy.

In walked a staggering Faye, pleased with her grand entrance. She tipped to one side, before switching to the other slightly. Just one look was all it took before you gulped the rest of your drink down, flipping the glass on its head. You could see out of the corner of your eye Spike’s focus was on you. His brows furrowed, head tilting as if to ask what were you doing. Your reply was a swift head rub, his hair swooshing.

“Evening, Faye.” Jet chimed, pushing the bottle of gin closer to his side behind him on his control board. There was no way she was getting any more tonight.

Your gaze changed to Jet, who you thought could also sense the new air in the bridge. He sat at the edge of his seat, arm resting on his knee. What was he waiting for?

A small hiccup bounced off the metal walls, prompting Faye to trip and catch herself on the main control board in the middle of the room. Her eyes closed, she began to shake her head side to side, a small manic giggle escaping her mouth.

“You just-just can’t keep your fucking hands off of him, can’t you?”

You felt a shiver of shock rest on your shoulders as you turned your head to face Faye. Before you could speak, Spike opened his mouth to defend you.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Spike retorted, his hands now pressed firmly on your waist.

“Everything was just fine without her, you-“ Faye snarled as she pointed to Jet, “just had to have a heart.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Jet replied cautiously.

Faye circled around the control table, using it as support or else she tumbled over. A mumbled slur of insults, consisting of calling you a slut and Spike an idiot. She was drunk, you thought. Let it run off like water. She will be fine once she’s in her bed, snoring her way into a killer hangover. You couldn’t shake that feeling that you needed to start gearing up. You wiggled out of Spike’s hold, planting your feet firmly down as you lean on the control table.

“I..I honestly don’t get it.” Faye said aloud.

“Get what, Faye?” You piped up, the slightest shake in your voice.

Oh! So it can talk!” She cackled out loud. “Let me tell you what, since you asked!”

“Please, I would love to know.”

Her pointer finger shoved right in your face, furiously wanting to make contact. “I-I find it hard to believe that you managed to get him to fuck you.”

“Jesus, Faye, in front of the kids?”

“Fuck that! She’s going to hear what I have to say, whether the slut likes it or not.”

As angry as you should’ve been, coolness was all you displayed. The voice in the back of your head reminded you of unforgettable advice you knew all too well. Alcohol could be a very good truth serum.

“What a f-fucking slut … you know how I think y-you managed to stay on this tin can of a ship?” She muttered. “You have to be f-fucking the captain.”

“That’s enough! Leave until you sober up.” Jet stood up, standing in the space between you and Faye. “Not having any of that on my ship.”

You looked at Spike, face frozen in a silent menacing fury. Leaning back on the console, you kept glancing to see Faye moving further and further away towards the door. That was it, the show's over. But someone had some kind parting words.

“Hey, how about this! I bet Spike has to cover your face while fucking your ugly ass, I would too, you stupid-“

Your knuckles had never stung so bad, but it felt so good to watch Faye’s head swing back. A flurry of raged-filled punches landed on either side of her face, so fast it didnt give her enough time to react. Waking up, Faye gave a heavy footed kick to your side, prompting you to scream out in pain.

Each swing of her high leg swings missed as you ducked, giving you a chance for an uppercut into her stomach. You could hear the sound of the wind knocking out of her with each punch. Faye’s hand pulled your hair back roughly, fists meeting across your face, swiping your nose. Intense pressure built up, the threat of blood leaking out of your nose becoming evident. She wanted to play dirty?

We can play dirty.

You used everything you had in you. Scratching, biting, kicking. You were not going to lose. You did not give two shits if she was vulnerable, this bitch was going down. It felt like forever until you felt the strong arms of Spike yanking you away from the fighting ground.

“Hey, hey, hey!” You heard Jet roar, becoming a flesh and metal cage around Faye’s upper arms, taking a small beating as she tried to claw her way back to you. Ed was yelping and screaming at the top of her lungs, while Ein barked and yowled at the commotion.

“Stop, (y/n), its me you’re hitting, damn it!” Spike yelped as you gave the last swings, realizing that the fight was just about over. You panted, the painful injection of adrenaline overcame your body. You watched on in pity as Jet tried to get Faye to calm down. As you trudged back to your seat, with the help of Spike, the last word was finally given out of the door.

“Get comfy bitch, I’m going nowhere!” You screamed.

“And I know who burned your ship, but there’s no way I’m telling you, you dumb cunt!”

Other insults flew in your direction, but were ignored. You stood in disbelief as you let the major bombshell play over and over. Feeling the soft tug of Spike pulling you back gently down to your seat, letting you wallow for a second. He knelt in front of you, examining your growing black eye and red welts on your face. “Damn, that's going to leave a mark.”

You looked away from him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Oh (y/n), I didn't mean it like that, it doesn’t look that bad.” Spike apologized as you sniffled.

“It’s not that. I-its that..'' sobs so quietly, but causes the greatest quivering, “she knows who did this to me, and won't even fess up because she hates me. What kind of shit is that?”

Tears fell freely onto your lap, pain induced by your loss fueling more hurt. It was so cold by yourself, a shell encasing you in. Through the mists of your tears, the shell was just Spike’s chest moving closer in. The heat of his body provided consolation without words, the tightness and slight rocking bringing you down to a clearer, more relaxed consciousness.

“I’ll catch them for you.” Spike mumbled into your ear, his hands massaging the back of your head. “It won't bring anything back, but if that will make you feel better, I'll do it.”

This wasn’t an empty promise. There was sincerity behind Spike’s words, wanting to help you. It was now confirmed just how much you meant to him. He was willing to assist for payback. His offer was sweet, but it didn't feel right. This wasnt his struggle, it was yours.

You were going to catch them, and only God knew the hell you were going to bring.

[brckensociety]

There was definitely something entertaining about being in on a secret, even at her best friend's expense. She could see the appeal of Brock, he had that bad boy energy that drew a person in and the charm to keep them in his grasp. It wasn't surprising that Stacy had been fooled by him and if it weren't for the previous encounter April might've given him the benefit of the doubt. Told herself to trust her friend's judgement more than her own. She knew telling the girl would shatter her heart, so maybe it was better to wait it out, certain that at some point he'd cut and run. Although she'd likely be giving him exactly what he wanted in doing that. She thought about talking to him, to find out his true intentions with her friend, given a genuine relationship clearly wasn't a part of it. Maybe, they could come to an agreement so her friend could be let down easy, not that he seemed the type to agree to such a thing. Her friend gave her another warning look, knowing what was likely coming in response to his comments, knowing it could put a damper on things. But this time she went against her friend's wishes. "Money didn't do shit when my sister was murdered. Nor did my parents. They only pay for all my studies because they think it'll help me forgive them for not being there and protecting her. I would happily take being poor and having nothing to my name if it meant I got her back." It was an overshare, she knew that, but he was making a judgement she found distasteful. It wasn't like he knew what she did with her money outside of studying. She lived in a basic studio apartment that doubled as the place where she made art, nowhere lavish. She had money set aside for food and a little fun but donated most of it to causes that she felt needed it more than she did. Her parents only shoved their money her way, especially for her studies, because they knew art was her main distraction from the pain inflicted by her sisters passing along with the trauma she'd gone through almost dying herself. "What is it you do again? Given Stacy tells me you spoil her quite a lot." She queried, her way of shifting the conversation back onto him whilst pointing out the slight hypocrisy of his judgement.

Brock couldn't help the confident smirk that stayed on his lips. While he continued to pretend to be a reformed bad boy for Stacy, he was actively corrupting her and he was content with that. Hell, just last weekend he'd convinced her to smoke for the first time and there was hardly anything as fun as walking a girl through their first high, or the sex while they were experiencing it.

If he was a better person he might have felt bad for taking advantage of the fact that Stacy saw the best in everyone, but he wasn't a better person, and so he didn't. He just hoped April didn't feel the need to eventually tell Stacy that he wasn't the better person she thought he was. He set the menu down and reached for his drink, listening as the blonde spoke.

A small scoff left him as he set the drink down and leaned forward slightly. "Mhhm. Only people with money say they'd trade it for other shit, cause they don't know what it's like to actually not have it." he responded with a slight shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders before he picked his drink back up to take another sip. The brunette shouldn't have been trying to invoke an argument, and he didn't necessarily think he was, but he couldn't help himself. He highly doubted either of these girls had ever felt what it was like to actually be hungry, or go without anything. Sure, he made decent money now...illegally, but that didn't mean he didn't know exactly how it felt to be piss poor.

[empiretoppled]

guardian angel ⸝⸝ oneshot

pairings: sharon carter x winter soldier!reader.

warnings: mentions of blood and injury, attempted brainwashing.

summary: once upon a time you were a winter soldier, but those days are long behind you. at least until someone tries to use your code words to activate that side of you. luckily you seem to have a guardian angel aka sharon carter.

word count: 1312 (can you believe this is the longest oneshot i've ever written?).

// REQUEST: Can I request a Sharon x f!reader where reader was a winter soldier like Bucky with the arm and everything and someone tries to use to words to activate the reader and Sharon is there and she’s just really protective of reader helps her through it 🥺🥺 ༐ A/N: it's probably obvious but this is my first attempt at writing any type of a fight scene, please be gentle.

MASTERLIST

You should have known something was odd the moment your contact had finally called back, should have realised there was something wrong about the whole deal, hell you should have called everything off the moment Madripoor was mentioned.

But you had been so desperate, like a dog begging for scraps, that the mere idea of finally being released from the mental hell Hydra had put you in put you in the sort of situation where ignoring any possible lead, no matter how unreliable and risky it was hadn't even seemed like a viable option.

And look where your desperation had gotten you, crouched in a dirty alley, back pressed against a brick wall, praying to whatever god was wiling to listen that you had successfully escaped the men chasing after you. A quick glance down confirmed what you had feared, your arm – the metal one was fried beyond repair, the damage far worse then anything you would be able to fix all alone, stuck in a stupid alley.

Seeing the state of your arm made the fear in your gut grow, whoever these men were they had come prepared, taking out your main advantage before the fight had fully begun. You arm had been made to withhold nearly anything and were you not in so much pain you would have been impressed that they knew how to break it in such maner, but right now you were annoyed and more then a little frightened.

The serum rushing through your veins did very little in terms of dulling the amount of pain you were currently in and you could feel the initial rush of adrenaline wearing off, forced to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying out in order to avoid gaining attention or even worse revealing your location to the same men you were so desperately trying to outrun.

It seemed that whatever short period of rest the alley had been able to provide would soon be broken as the sound of approaching footsteps reached your hiding spot. Years of practice made you leap to your feat, your teeth grinding as the sudden movement made another stab of pain run through your injured arm, black spots blurring your vision.

By the time your vision somewhat cleared and you were able to once again focus on your surrondings, there were three of the men rounding the corner, their guns drawn and pointed in your direction. It took you barely a moment to absorb the scene and act accordingly, once again driven by pure instinct as you charged at them, knocking the guns from two of the men and ducking just in time to avoid getting hit by the bullet shot by the third.

The closest man lunged and you barely had time to react, stepping to the side at the last minute and grasping at his hair as he passed, using the man's momentum to throw him aside, his head hitting the brick wall you had been pressed against less then a few minutes ago. The second came at you before you had a chance to even straighten yourself, bending your injured arm with enough force that it made you cry out in agony, a wail that would without doubt drag even more unwanted attention your way.

Trapped, you struggled to move away, desperation kicking in as you blindly hit in his direction, only to receive another blow to you side as his hold on you tightened. "Now, now, that's enough of that soldat.", he reprimanded you, as out of breath as you felt, his voice more dissapointed then angry, similiar to that of an owner trying to control a disobedient puppy and way too smug for your liking.

"What a coincidence, I happen to agree, that is quite enough of that.", a new voice rang out, shrill and sudden, quickly followed by the sound of a gun going off, the man's grip faltering just enough for you to slip out of it. However, the respite didn't last long as he pulled you back by your hair, swiftly turning you around so you stood between him and the new arrival, shielding himself from whoever it was that seemingly came to your aid.

"Now, I was going to wait until we were in a more controlled environment but what can I say? I'm nothing if not flexible.", the man behind you took a shallow breath as if preparing himself, "Желание." No, no, no! "Семнадцать. Ржав-" Bang.

You felt it before you heard it, sharp pain through your middle, unmistakable and far too familiar. Whoever it was that came to your rescue shot the man holding you, straight through you.

No longer held back, you swayed on your feet, closing your eyes as you prepared yourself for the harsh fall. But the action proved to be unnecessary as strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into their side and taking the worst of the impact as your weight took them down with you.

"Sorry about that.", the voice was much closer now, softer then it had been earlier, familiar, your groggy mind added.

Every cell in your body screamed for you to stay down, to rest, that you were safe now but you fought against it, pained moans falling from your lips as you tried to crawl as far away as you could. It was only when you opened your eyes that you stopped, the hood that had been pulled over your savior's head had fallen down sometimes during your struggle and your fuzzy brain was finally able to recognize the person in front of you.

"Sharon?", you croaked out, confusion obvious in your voice, whoever it was you had expected to see, it sure as hell wasn't Sharon Carter. "Hell of a reunion, am I right?", she replied, pulling herself from the ground, her voice teasing but visibly hesitant as she approached you, hands in front of her as a clear sign that she meant no further harm.

The gesture was clearly more for your sake then out of fear, there wasn't much fight left in you, the ease with which she had stood up made it obvious your earlier attempt at getting away from her had only hurt you, it made your lip twitch in an attempt to smile.

She stopped walking a small distance away from you, her gaze questioning, and it was only when you gave her a nod that she moved closer, crouching next to you, swiftly taking off her hoddie, doing her best to tie it around you tight enough to stop the blood flow. "It won't help for long but it should be good enough until I get you to my apartment to patch it up.", she mumbled and you were unsure whether she was saying it for your benefit or hers.

You looked up at her then down to the makeshift bandage which was seeping with more blood, your face paling at the sight. "You sure about that?"

"Yes.", she stood back up, her grip on your shoulders firm but gentle as she pulled you to your feet, quick to position herself in a way that let her support most of your body weight, which was a good thing as you weren't sure you wouldn't have just fallen back to the ground if she didn't.

You were dead on your feet, barely able to keep your eyes fully open by the time you both reached her car, Sharon's talking the only that kept you somewhat awake. You could't quite tell what she was saying but her voice gave you something to focus on which you were extremely grateful for.

It was only about an hour later, after she had both cleaned and dressed the injury, that you finally let yourself fall asleep, healing and most importantly safe. With Sharon right by your side.