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caterpellas · 4 years

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munich nights • harry styles 2

summary: touring inseparably as best friends and musicians, yours and harry’s relationship takes a cruel turn in munich.

warnings: smut (thigh riding, oral f receiving, girl on top n i think that’s it)

genre: bestfriend!harry, friends to lovers(?), angst, smut, it’s the works y’all

pt 2/3 (one is here) word count: 6k

a/n: this is the penultimate bit now :) i’m actually super nervous to post this lol i’m a mess anyway pls enjoy

chapter 2 playlist

you couldn’t lie, you cried yourself to sleep that night, with a movie you sort of cared about playing in the background. harry didn’t love you, and what used to be the strongest friendship in mankind had now crumbled apart and returned to a state of distant nothingness. harry didn’t love you. he didn’t have to say those words to you for you to know they were true. the realisation hit you about twenty minutes after harry left like an arrow to your chest, that was so recently covered in his ejaculate. not only were the pair of you virtually inseparable, you worked together as well and you had absolutely no idea what was going to happen now. you felt too ashamed for him and his band members to see you now after last night.

waking up in a damp patch of tears in your double bed, you try your hardest to get on with your day and forget last night. a bath felt appropriate so, just before midday, before you’d even greeted your friends yet, you ran one. the tub itself was freestanding and as deep as your head when you sat in it, the victorian taps centred in the middle. it was definitely the nicest bath you’d had in your life. you stripped off last nights clothes that you had shamelessly fallen asleep in and hoped to god the hot water of your bath would erase the images of last night, but the feeling of harry’s touch burned hotter then any water.

almost an hour later, milo, your drummer, knocked on the door of the bathroom you were still in.

“y/n? you in there? we haven’t seen you since last night before you and harry left. is everything okay?” milo’s voice reached you through the oak walls. you wanted to tell him that nothing was okay, and that you’re most important relationship ceased to exist but you couldn’t bare to tell anyone else, especially your friend and bandmate of 5 years.

“i’m all good, i’ll be out soon.” you make it downstairs another half an hour later, the need for a cup of tea driving you to the kitchen. as you reached the breakfast bar right next to the kitchen, you saw the sickening mop of brown curls that you were hoping to avoid. he turns to face you at the sound of your slippers against the tiled floor.

but instead of plain ignorance, a much more unexpected reaction finds its way to harry as he greets you, “y/n! we were beginning to think you’d drowned in that bath.”

you stood in bewilderment at harry’s attempt at a joke, wondering why he was trying you like all of last night never happened to either of you. but you picked this over cold silence so went along with it, “yeah sorry i needed to recover from the jet lag yesterday.”

it was sort of true, you were feeling the time difference and were grateful to be able to rest today. aside from plans to go out this evening, you were all going to rest up at home. which meant being in close quarters with the man you were trying so hard to avoid. making your cup of tea on the old aga kettle, your friends went back to discussing tour details, chatting about last and what was in store for the rest of the trip. you got a feeling their plans for the future weren’t going to be that plain and simple.

by the evening, you had all found yourselves comfortably sat around the fire outside, eating takeout from a german restaurant nearby. it was really good, and although you and harry had barely spoken more than those few words to each other things weren’t as awkward as you were dreading they’d be. usually, if things hadn’t gone the way they had, you and harry would be sat next to one another, your sides touching all the way down whilst you giggled over something harry was telling you.but as it goes, milo and olly sandwiched you between their huge bodies.

“does anyone know the name of the club we’re going to tonight?”

your ears pricked up at the mention of going to a club. you didn’t realise you were going out-out.

“panorama, i think? i put harry’s name on the guest list.”

it occurred to you that you were heavily underdressed for an exclusive nightclub. you had a good feeling they wouldn’t accept your cargo pants and grubby trainers. jumping up from the bench you run to the door, “i need to go change!”

you opted for an ever so slightly classier look and went with a small pleated skirt and a cropped cardigan. not a combo you’d usually wear, it was a little more fitted then you’d choose for yourself but you’d compromise a little to get in the club. you stuck with the dr martens purely for comfort and called it a night there. you loved your style for many reasons, but the most important one was that it was low effort. it took a maximum of 20 minutes to get ready and you took pride in that.

the group had organised to have a limo to share instead of a taxi, so harry was a little more protected from paparazzi and also to fit the size of your party. they were all waiting outside on the drive when you got downstairs and in unison, their heads turned to face you.

sarah grinned at you, “i love it.”

“very cute,” charlotte smiled as well.

you responded with a “cheers” before daring to look at harry. he was wearing a silk shirt and slacks in a baby pink colour. nothing different to harry’s usual attire but the outfit still sent a chill down your spine. well that, and the way he was looking at you. it was dark out but you could still see how electric his green eyes were as they stared directly at you. you’d been caught off guard, harry wasn’t someone you were prepared to connect with again this evening. in fact, you’d convinced yourself that you didn’t even care whether harry was going to be there or not (utter lies of course). but by the way he was looking at you, you knew this wasn’t the end and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

the vip section of ‘panorama’ was plush and teal coloured, with flower garlands and strip lights along the ceiling. you had a lounging area all to yourselves, with big padded benches and cushions. it was luxurious and if you weren’t so highly strung from having harry sat so near by, you’d fall asleep on it. you drunk so many cocktails by this point and your worries seemed to fade away into the loud club music.

“y/n.”

harry was sat next to you, but distantly. he was chatting to mitch before he said your name. no matter how loud the music playing was, you’d still always here his voice. turning to him, you asked, “harry?”

he’s smiling at you, like nothing has changed, “how come you haven’t danced yet this evening?”

it was a good question- you loved to dance more than you loved to perform. harry would always make fun of you, the shimmy you would do when he was playing disco in the studio and the way you always swayed along to fleetwood mac, pretending to be stevie nicks on stage. the reason you weren’t dancing is because you were far too obsessed with the closeness you had achieved with harry in your booth.

“i haven’t quite been feeling it just yet,” you teased back and you felt as though things with harry had gone back to normal, so you dared to ask, “are we good?”

harry’s boyish smile took over his face as he gave you a definite, “yes.”

“well i’m feeling more in the mood now so i’ll see you later,” you get up to exit, smoothing out the pleats in your skirt and struggle to take your eyes away from his. dreaming he’ll follow you, you make your way into the adjacent room filled to the brim with people. the song was bassy, but mellow and you could immediately feel your body moving to it. before you knew it you were almost next to the dj booth, opposite the ceiling high speakers and the song was perfect. you hadn’t felt this relaxed since yesterday’s plane journey and you let your unease pour out of your limbs as they writhed to the music. it took a few minutes to take you out of the trance and realise, although surrounded by a mass of people, you weren’t alone.

a tall figure was behind you, and without turning you knew who it was. you could smell his cologne easily- it was gucci of course and it was heavenly. not even daring to turn to him, you stayed facing away, afraid of what it meant to have him in your view. his hands, large and firm, gripped your shoulders, like he did twice yesterday, and his hot breath was against your neck.

“can i join you?”

the question itself was said innocently, this wasn’t the first time harry had asked to dance with you, and probably wasn’t the last, but it felt different to you now. god how you missed the simplicity of harry being unattainably yours as a friend. finally bracing yourself to meet his eyes from almost a foot above you, you spun, his arms falling from your shoulders to your forearms.

smiling up at the familiar face of the love of your life, you said into his ear, “of course you can dance with me.”

dancing with harry was nothing sexy or erotic but it was the most intimate you’d ever been with him, before last night. harry loved to dance almost as much as you and the best part of his whole personality was nothing other than his devil-may-care disposition. it reminded you of the times he’d twirl you while you were stood somewhere completely out of the blue, or when he’d snap his fingers along to a song and by the time you’d joined in the two of you had broken out into a full dance routine just for the sheer fun of it.

harry grabbed your small, clammy hands and pulled you into him, and then straight back out as wild cherry played through the speakers and you inaudibly laughed at his initial dance moves.

“is that all you’ve got styles?” you smirked at him before laughing at the ridiculous version of the hustle he was trying to pull off. he looked way better than you’d ever want to declare, looking fresh out of the 70s whilst funk music played to his dance moves. it suited him down to a fine art and the song was tailor made for his steps. your hips circled to the song and you remembered just how much you love it. pulling out some more unconventional dance moves you went for the peace signs over your eyes and harry’s head fell back in laughter whilst watching you.

this was it. the perfect moment you were so afraid of losing with him. you understood now that whatever yours and harry’s union was, it was far stronger than you ever gave it credit for. harry and you were back to normal again and instead of last night’s beer goggles making you far more candid then you’d like, now your feelings were crystal clear. harry was all you’d ever want.

as boney m. began to fade in now harry’s dancing had become more intense and now the pair of you were far closer then you’d ever danced together before. one of his hands made a brave attempt at looping around your waist and spinning you, making your skirt flare up in the process. usually you’d be shy and care, but only harry was paying attention to you and the thought of him have a small peak at what was under your skirt didn’t even slightly bother you. one of your arms clutches his lean bicep and you moved in unison together, only inches away from one another now.

“i love watching you dance,” harry whisper-shouted in your ear. unprepared for that statement, you stare into his eyes as they flashed in the colours of the lights. his gaze is unfocused, undecided on if it will look into your own or watch your lips, dampened from the small lick you gave them. his own lips were distracting you as well, the bottom one pulled in by his teeth, a habit he picked up when he was feeling conflicted. you wished he wasn’t such a hard man to read. the only definite you held onto right now was that he wanted to kiss you, reaffirmed when his eyes closed and his head ducked to meet your own.

“harry,” you place a hand on his exposed chest, “i can’t kiss you.”

he knew why. he knew that it crossed the boundary you weren’t meant to cross again. but much like you that didn’t want to stop him. so, despite himself, harry ignored your remark and hesitantly placed his lips on yours. the feeling of his kiss muted the sounds around you and in desperation you urged him to kiss you harder. no matter the height difference between the two of you, harry and you still felt perfectly matched. harry’s hands came into your tangled hair and gripped at the top of your neck, his lips even firmer against yours at the new angle. this was far more passionate then last night, and you were seeing harry in a whole new light. he wasn’t just your friend, an unrequited love and now a one time sexual partner but something more on par with your own emotions. harry’s zealous kiss seemed to correspond with all the feelings you had never spoken about him. but then he pulled away, leaving you empty again. you frowned at him, “why did you stop?”

he simply smiled back at you, soothing your nerves, and took your hand as he pulled you through the crowds to a curtained doorway. the room he took you to was a semi circle, the wall surrounded by a settee, and the floor was carpeted and plush with cushions and blankets. it reminded you of a harem, which made you question harry’s choice of destination. it was far quieter in here, the music now a dull bass in the background.

“why are we in here?” you looked over to harry who had already taken a seat on the sofa.

“i thought you’d want more privacy,” he grinned at you. harry’s attitude towards the whole thing was starting to irritate you instead now. why was he acting like this whole thing was so casual? did it not affect him like it did you?

“you’re kidding right? what even is this?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms across your chest. you were pissed.

harry’s brows creased in confusion, “what’s the matter?”

“what’s the matter? how can you ask me that? things are different now harry and you know it.”

he knew it. he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you that he’d wanted things to be this way for the past 2 years. it’s why he was constantly cracking jokes or messing around with you, making you smile and laugh brought him more joy then anything else in his life. it’s why he was so overwhelmed by white hot jealousy when he saw your mouth around that arsehole sound tech’s dick.

“jesus, y/n we’re friends aren’t we? why do we have to talk about that anyway, we’re having fun.”

“because harry,” you huff at him, “unlike you my feelings are a little bruised from last nights events.”

his eyes momentarily filled with guilt, “i know that was- not decent of me.”

“uh you think? i love you harry but you’re not pulling this crap on me again,” you tried to sound stern but his eyes melted you. you looked away but his hand reached for yours. this was it though. your temper had gotten the better of you and you were ready to leave him here and say goodbye to any relationship you formerly had with him. if he did anything again to you like he did last night you were sure your dignity would crumble into unfixable pieces. sighing, you finish off by telling him, “i can’t do this anymore harry.”

“i don’t want to lose you,” harry’s eyes were filled with pleading.

“you should have thought about that before i put your cock in my mouth,” you snapped at him. you hated to admit that saying out loud what you and harry had done had turned you on immensely. harry’s pupils dilated in synchronisation with yours. he played right into this.

“so you’d never do it again?” why was he asking you this?

“no. i wouldn’t.” he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing what he did to you anymore. even though the sight of him with his half buttoned silk shirt, damp with sweat as he lounged on the settee, his high waisted trousers spread apart along his long legs made your legs feel like mush. your voice was so convincing that harry’s face fell and in an instant you wanted to eat your words.

“y/n, i’m sorry if i overstepped,” he stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers, “do you wanna just go back to being friends?”

there was only one right answer to that question;

“fuck no.”

you jumped harry then and there and he fell back onto the padded seat, hands strongly gripping your waist. you quickly kissed him and in shock you retreated, your eyes locking, before connecting your lips with him again. his hands move south to your hips and then to your buttocks, giving your scantily clad cheeks a squeeze. you knew from a past discussion harry was an ass man, after a few drinks together one night you were talking about likes and dislikes. it reminded you of one preference in particular. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tugged it gently and an audible moan fell in between his lips against yours.

“fuck, y/n do that again,” he mumbled into your mouth and you responded with another pull on his curls. his hips jerked up to meet the middle of your legs and between the thin material of his trousers and nothing covering your crotch other then the thin material of your underwear, little was left to the imagination. you could feel harry’s erection growing the more your hand tangled into his hair. your bare thighs clutched tightly by harry’s hands and you could tell they were longing to hold your bare ass. with your other hand on harry’s bicep, you moved it down to his hand and guided it up along your cheek and he hummed in satisfaction.

“hey harry,” you spoke into the kiss, “you remember california?”

how could he forget- you had spent the whole day drinking on the beach and that was where you had confessed about all your likes and dislikes, giggling like little kids the whole time. who knew that several months later that secret information would become so beneficial?

“what about it?” he asked as your lips traced down his neck to his chest.

“do you remember what i told you?”

a switch flipped in harry’s head and he suddenly knew what you wanted. his thigh came between your legs and you put your weight onto it eagerly, and his hands rocked you back and forth on the cotton of his slacks. the friction was exactly what you needed and you had never been more thankful that harry had listened so intently to your confession; you loved dry humping.

harry’s gaze was on you as you continued to grind on him, and the sight was enough to turn him from semi to fully hard.

“does that feel good?” harry asked you and you were too shy to answer him, only whimpering in response, “tell me y/n.”

“it feels so good harry,” you moaned out. your pace had begun to quick as you needily searched for your release. you could feel your wetness seeping into the material against his thigh and a faint squelching noise could be heard underneath your mewls of satisfaction. your hand fell across the bridge of his nose, outlining his sharp cheekbone and rest along his neck, licking his lips as he watches you get yourself off on him.

on a normal occasion, you’d be too embarrassed to ever ride someone’s thigh, it made you the centre of their attention and that frightened you. but knowing that harry’s undivided recognition was different. you loved having his hands and eyes all over your body. not that he knew, but it was his after all. if he wanted it to, it could belong to him.

“harry,” you gasped, “i’m going to cum.”

to know he was about to witness your undoing just like you’d seen his thrilled him.

“cum for me y/n,” harry pushed your hips for you, gripping the flesh of your ass, and rolling you back and forth till you let out a sob as you came all over his thigh. your forehead fell onto harry’s shoulder as you recollected yourself. that was the first time you had ever cum just from humping. and it was on harry’s leg. the familiar blush crept up your arms to your neck and cheeks and you couldn’t bare to lift your head off of harry’s shoulder.

“y/n,” harry’s voice gently interrupted, “not to rush you or anything but my trousers really are soaked.”

his fingers slid down your thighs to help you off of his leg, your own like that of a baby deer. you weren’t expecting harry to unbuckle his belt and slip his trousers off his legs, the thick wet patch taking up a lot of the fabric.

“what are you doing?”

“well you don’t expect me to keep them on do you?”

“i sort of thought you’d just leave again.”

harry’s face flushed in shame, “i am really sorry i did that last time, y/n. it was a dick move.”

“just a little,” you give him a half smile to let him know you couldn’t stay mad at him. stood in awkward silence, your panties dripping with your cum and harry in nothing but a shirt and boxers, you didn’t know what to say. it wasn’t common that you’d find an uncomfortable lack of words to say to harry.

finally, after one too many moments in silence, harry beckoned you with his finger, “c’mere.”

suddenly you found yourself snugly wrapped in his arms, your cheek to his chest as he held you.

“harry i-“

“don’t just yet please.”

so you stayed that way for a little longer. you realised that this could be the last chance you hold him like this, so you mentally noted every last thing about him you loved. his smell, typically of gucci, but underneath the artificial scent a more clean, personal one of clean bedding and shampoo. his arms, and how their length seemed to engulf you better than any of the softest, plushest bedding in existence. his lips that you could feel on the top of your head and how the feeling of them on your own was tattooed to you now. you knew that if you ever kissed anyone in the future it couldn’t penetrate the lasting layer of his.

he pulled away from you a few moments later, looking down over you. searching his eyes for any clues to his own thoughts from under your lashes, you found nothing. it didn’t mean you were expecting what came next.

as you started, “i understand if you don’t want to do this anymo-“

“i love you.”

the words hung in the air in stunned silence, and you were in too much of a state of shock to know how to take them. he loved you? was he saying the way he always did or did he mean he loved you the way you loved him?

“harry you don’t mean that you.. does that mean you, like, love-me-love-me?” you sounded like a teenager, your juvenile question was all you could muster up.

“i’ve always loved you y/n,”

“i know you have bu-“

“will you just let me finish please?” his fingers pressed against your lips to silence you, “you always talk without actually listening. let me a second please.

“i realised that you’ve never been my friend. don’t interrupt. you were never my friend because you were always like way more than that. friend seemed too small a word for us, you know? and then that day after i saw you and that shitty sound tech fucking in your room i was so angry and jealous and then i realised how much i wanted to be in his place. but you and me had already had such a good relationship i was worried i would ruin it by changing our dynamic. then on the night i met camila, you were so distant from me. i was upset and camila was into me so i was going to fuck her, but i couldn’t. i haven’t had sex with anyone since i saw you and-“

“his name was josh.”

“y/n i really couldn’t give a fuck what his name was. but anyway last night that prick wouldn’t leave you alone and i had to do something, and i wasn’t planning on taking things where they went but by the time you’d brought up my tattoos i was in too deep. i hate that i left you last night. i wanted to say all of this then, but i was too scared. so i left and hoped things would go back to normal between us. but our normal is nothing compared to what we had last night.”

overwhelmed, you sat down on the settee, leaning back to accommodate all of this information.

“so you want to be with me?” you asked him, still not believing it for yourself.

harry beamed at you, “i know, crazy right?”

“i just- i,” you stuttered over your lack of words.

“you don’t have to feel the same why i just figured it was best to be honest.”

you couldn’t help it, but you snorted at him, “you’re kidding right? i have not wanted anything more in my entire life.“

harry knelt down in front of you, and from this height you to were level. you could see eye to eye as equals now. his lips came to your forehead and softly kissed you there, your eyes fluttering closed. it was contentment to know he was finally yours. moving even closer to you, harry moved your legs aside and came between them and you had to prevent him from getting too close so your still-damp panties didn’t come into contact with his expensive shirt.

“you know,” you could feel harry’s lips turn upwards into a smirk on your forehead, “this means you don’t have to feel quite as worried about me fucking you anymore. i’m yours now, y/n.”

he lowered onto the back of his heals, taking his head to the level of your breasts, and he moved back a bit to take in the sight of you. you had to have been a mess, your black eyeliner probably smudged and your hair knotted around your head. your legs were still wide apart, giving harry the greatest opportunity to see under your little tartan skirt.

his pupils widen at the sight, “i can’t believe i’ve never seen you in a skirt like this before. you look so cute in it. it gives me great opportunity to do this,” his hands slid up your thighs slowly and surely, eventually coming down so that they were on the inside of your legs, just before your crotch. you were at his mercy at this angle, and he used it to his advantage. his long fingers brushed up against your clothed core and you whimpered at the sensitivity.

“are you still sore from earlier?”

you nodded and swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. his fingers moved up towards your hips, bumping your clit in the process and grabbed the sides of your tight underwear. pulling them down your legs, he got to see your pussy for the very first time. mouth practically salivating at the sight of your already wet lips, he began kissing along the insides of your legs, working inwards from the knee. he stopped at the edge of your thighs, teasing you with no touch. you hips were writhing at the need for contact and he pinned your thighs down, restricting you.

“i want to undress you first.”

his nimble fingers make quick work of the tiny buttons on your cardigan and it only just occurred to you that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. your bare sternum is exposed and you can tell harry is surprised to find you completely naked behind the cardi. slipping it off your shoulders, your perky breasts are finally unleashed for harry’s viewing.

“we never fucked,” you blurred out.

“what do you mean?”

“me and josh never had sex. i haven’t actually had sex in about two years.”

harry’s jaw sunk slightly at your confession, “but- how haven’t you?”

you felt embarrassed by this. no one ever compared to harry so why would you waste your time on them? you mostly only fooled around with josh because you needed a distraction from harry’s constant sex appeal.

“well josh and me never actually got around to it since he left the crew and aside from him there hasn’t been anyone else.”

you couldn’t believe you were saying this to him right after he’d undressed you, the air con hardening your nipples. harry couldn’t really concentrate on what you were saying, especially when his name was mentioned and your breasts were on full display to him. ignoring your rambling, harry’s mouth came down onto your right nipple, circling it with his tongue and ending your words with a gasp. your nipples were more sensitive then you’d initially realised, or maybe it was just because it was harry’s mouth encapsulating them, but the sensation felt like enough to make you cum from that alone.

“harry, i,” you sighed out breathily. sentences weren’t able to be formed presently, it was all too much. not for harry though, who had no qualms about saying, “i want to fuck you in nothing but that little skirt.”

you tried to press your thighs together, his words jolted down to your clit and you needed some kind of release. harry’s mouth went back to your boobs and down the valley in the middle, licking down it, to your pierced belly button and finally his head disappeared under your skirt. you instinctively placed your feet up on either side of the sofa to spread your pussy even further for his access.

his tongue mercilessly licked up from your taint to your clit and you bucked in delight. the muscle of his tongue pressed hard against the sensitive ball of nerves in quick movements, lapping at it rhythmically. you couldn’t control the volume of your moans now, cussing incoherently to him. but it wasn’t enough, you needed harry fully.

pulling his hair, you were so close to cumming but you couldn’t let it happen yet, not till he’d been inside you.

“harry stop,” you manage to get out, “i need you in me.”

he drew back as soon as you spoke and you leant forward to unbutton his shirt, but you lost your balance as you go forward, falling on top of him onto the cushioned floor. you both burst into giggles at your clumsiness, it was something that you joked about a lot together. you hadn’t loved anyone more then you loved harry right now, his chuckles like music to your ears as you lay on him nearly naked, his curls sat on his forehead.

“i love you,” harry told you, his hand cupping your cheek from below.

“i love you too,” leaning to kiss him, you moved your hand down and gripped his erection, forcing a moan from his lips, “now make love to me.”

he wasted no time in finishing off unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, and you ground your hips into his erection, forcing a groan from his lips. you were so close to feeling harry inside you, only boxers in the way of you two. you sat back and slipped them off his hips. before you got a chance to line him up with your walls, harry interrupted you, “are you in birth control?”

“yes,” you blushed. he smirked at you as he grabbed his hard cock in his hand and positioned it with you. you sunk down ont his cock, sighing is feel yourself being filled. you had craved this feeling for far too long, and harry filled you so well.

“fuck, y/n,” harry’s eyes closed when you engulfed him fully. adjusting, you began to bob up and down on his dick slowly, getting used to the foreign sensation. it stung a little bit as you hadn’t been filled in so long, but the need for harry numbed any of the pain. harry’s sweaty hands came up to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples as you began to quicken your pace.

“how do i feel inside you? does it feel good?”

you could only nod back, his cock hitting your g spot so well from this angle. as you began to speed up, your tits bounced delectably in front of harry’s face and he had to take over dominance, slamming his hips up to meet your own. his erection pounded into you, your mouth eliciting depraved whines. your skirt was swinging around your barely clothed ass and giving harry only sneaky glimpses of how the two of you were connected.

with harry’s hips moving more erratically, you could tell he was close.

you leant your mouth into his ear to whisper, “i want you to cum inside me.”

that was enough to tip harry over the edge, and so you could both finish together he reached his thumb under your skirt and thumbed your clit, sending your body into a heavenly orgasm. harry unloaded into your walls as you clenched around him, the both of you finishing in unison. flopping down onto his chest, he left his cock in you, both too fucked out to move yet. when he had softened, he slipped out of you, making you wince at the feeling.

“so,” you said into harry’s chest, “does that mean you’re mine now?”

his hand rubbed the small of your back, “i’m yours.”

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years

Text

I want to drive away with you

Chapter 12 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: The show from reader’s perspective.

Warnings: angst

Word count: ~2100

As you finish preparing for your mini-show in the dressing room, you can’t help but think about the voicemail you left for Spencer on your way to the venue.

“Hey Spence. I miss you, but you already know that. I’m doing a sort of mini show at 7 tonight. It would mean the world to me if you came… Look, I get it. You don’t want to be with me anymore, but I don’t want you to disappear from my life completely. Not when I need you now more than ever… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not trying to guilt you into coming, I just really want you to be there. For the moral support. The rest of the team is coming, so you won’t be alone. That’s it I guess. Bye.”

Tears spring to your eyes as you remember what he said to you the night he left. Shaking your head to clear the memories, you focus on the positive. That’s what your therapist has been telling you to do anyway. So, you switch focus and think of your friends. You are so grateful for the rest of the BAU team coming to support you after everything that happened. You are not alone, no matter how much it feels like it sometimes.

With that reminder ringing in your ears, you get up to walk on stage as you hear the announcer introducing you. Taking a seat on the stool behind the lone mic center stage, you look into the audience. You know you shouldn’t look for him, but you can’t help it. Your eyes meet those of Derek, JJ, Emily, Penelope, and to your surprise, Hotch and Rossi. They had never come before. You give the group a small wave, choosing to ignore the lack of Boy Genius.

You finally bring the mic to your mouth and greet the crowd “How are y’all doing tonight?” The crowd cheers you on as you continue introducing the show you have planned. “Now, you might be expecting the usual, but I’m afraid I only have three songs for you tonight. Just trying to get back into the swing of things, ya know?” Your abduction had been all over the news, which is probably why the crowd feels bigger than normal. “I hope you enjoyed the earlier acts though!”

“The first song encompasses how I was feeling about a month ago. Before everything happened.” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to erase the bad and remember the good. “It was the happiest I have ever been. I had a great group of friends, a job I loved, a hobby that helped me bring some of that joy to you guys, and… the most incredible boyfriend.” You purposefully ignore the shocked gasps from some your friends in the front row. If you met their eyes right now, they would be sure to figure everything out.

“Most of that is still true and for that I am incredibly grateful. Without further ado, here we go!” This song reminds you of everything you’ve lost rather than everything you still have, but it was the only one you could think to sing to truly encompass how happy you were a month ago.

The moon is high, like your friends were the night that we first met.

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet. Now, I’ve read all of the books beside your bed.

You wave your hand in the air in a “that’s only sort of true” way. There was no way in hell you could ever read ALL the books beside Spencer’s bed. To your relief, the crowd laughs at your slight joke while you continue with the song.

I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Uh huh, that’s right.

Darling, you’re the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. Uh huh, that’s right.

Darling, you’re the one I want in paper rings. In picture frames. In dirty dreams.

Oh, you’re the one I want.

You sing through the second verse without a hitch, coming up to the bridge.

I want to drive away with you. I want your complications too. I want your dreary Mondays, wrap your arms around me Pr-aby boy.

You almost messed up there, could’ve given everything away with one stupid word. It doesn’t look like the team noticed though, since they are all dancing around with the biggest smiles you’ve seen in a while. They are just glad to see you happy again, even if it is just because you are remembering better times.

You’re the one I want, one I want.

You see the applause more than really hear it as the song comes to an end. Your heart is beating way too loud in your ears for you to notice anyway.

“Thank you! Thank you! This next song is kind of a complete about face. 180 degrees if you will. Actually” you pause to think, “it’s more like 540 degrees.” You take in the confused glances from the audience, still searching for that one mop of slightly curly brown hair. “I feel like I went through every emotion possible, returned to where I started, and then was forcefully turned in the opposite direction.” You knew Spencer would know exactly what you were talking about if he was there. You said something eerily similar the last time you saw him.

You can feel the tears again, but you force them back down. You can’t sing and cry at the same time after all. “Clearly, you can tell why I was so happy a month ago. Paper Rings is kind of obvious in that sense. But, 3 weeks, 4 days, 6 hours,” you glance at your watch before continuing, “and 27 minutes ago every possible ounce of that happiness disappeared.”

“For those of you who don’t know, I recently went through a fairly traumatic event. My good friends at the FBI saved my life. But after I left the hospital with a new found relief, I went home and my boyfriend, well I guess ex-boyfriend, came over.”

Here come the tears again. “He didn’t tell me why, but he broke up with me that night. He said he didn’t want to do it while I was in the hospital, so he waited. I’ve had a lot of time to think it over, and I might know now why things changed. But even if I’m wrong, he left. And now, he won’t talk to me.”

You take a few calming breathes before continuing, “Now I know what you’re thinking. This guy sounds like a complete asshat. And maybe you’re kind of right. But he’s been through more than I could even explain, and I know that it is slowly killing him to know that I went through barely a tenth of what has happened to him. Especially because I know he blames himself. So, I have this next song. To try and explain how him leaving is worse than anything that happened in that building.”

The intro to the next song begins and you close your eyes. You can’t bear to look at anything right now. You need to solely focus on making it through this song.

You and I walk a fragile line. I have known it all this time, but I never thought I'd live to see it break.

It's getting dark, and it’s all too quiet, and I can't trust anything now. And it’s coming over you like it’s all a big mistake.

Whoa, holding my breath, won't lose you again. Something's made your eyes go cold.

You can feel you’re voice straining, but you need to push through to truly convey your emotions. Singing is the only way you know how and you won’t lose that. You can’t.

Come on, come on don't leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Something's gone terribly wrong, you're all I wanted.

Come on, come on don't leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Can't breathe whenever you're gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

You’re voice breaks at the end, but you’ve got a bit of instrumental to recover. You hold back from really looking at anyone during this song. The only face you want to see is Spencer’s and you didn’t see him anywhere while you searched during the first song.

Stood there and watched you walk away, from everything we had. But I still mean every word I said to you.

He will try to take away my pain, and he just might make me smile. But the whole time, I'm wishing it was you instead.

Pushing through the next chorus, you know the tears are welling as you practically scream sing your way through the song. Surprisingly, you are very on pitch. At least you still have that.

I know. I know. I just know, you’re not gone. You can’t be gone, no

The bridge is so simple, but it’s probably the saddest part for you to sing. One more round of the chorus brings you to the outro.

You and I walk a fragile line. I have known it all this time.

Never ever thought I'd see it break. Never thought I'd see it.

A single tear rolls down your cheek as you open your eyes and blink a few times at the lights. You can see the tears streaming down Penelope’s face and sad expressions in every single one of your friends eyes. Even Hotch seems choked up.

You pull yourself together to finish the show. “I know what you’re thinking” you joke with the crowd. “What the hell happened to you?” You take another calming breathe. “Well, a lot. But every song I am singing tonight, they are all to the same person. The one person in the world who understands me more than anyone else. You should all know, however, the ‘he’ I was referring to when I sung ‘he will try to take away my pain’ is none other than my therapist. Thanks for the all the help Doc, I’m trying to do what you said.” You can feel the smile returning to your face, even if it is a little forced.

“The last song I have for you is what I wish I had the chance to say that night 3 weeks, 4 days 6 hours,” again you check your watch, “and now 33 minutes ago.” You laugh at the ridiculous nature of remembering it down to the minute. Something you are so sure Spencer knows without having to think about.

“It’s something I need you to know.” You don’t look at anyone in particular while you sing, but you know exactly who you are singing to as the song starts.

One look. Dark room. Meant just, for you. Time moved, too fast. You played, it back.

Buttons, on a coat. Light hearted joke. No proof. Not much. But you saw, enough.

Small talk, he drives. Coffee, at midnight. The light, reflects. The chain, on your neck.

He says, look up. And your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch.

You felt enough.

This song is so beautiful in its simplicity. You’re grateful for the easy melody since your emotions are weighing on you so heavily right now.

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you.

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you.

You can see it with the lights out, lights out.

You are in love, true love.

You are in love.

It hurts more than expected to say those words about Spencer without actually looking into his eyes.

Morning, his place. Burnt toast, Sunday. You keep, his shirt. He keeps, his word.

And for once, you let go. Of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much, but it said enough.

You kissed, on sidewalks. You fight, and you talk. One night, he wakes. Strange look, on his face.

Pauses, then says, you're my best friend. And you knew what it was,

he is in love.

Since the first time you heard that song, it has been one of your favorites. It was almost bittersweet to sing that song to Spencer right now when you weren’t even sure he was in the audience.

As the final chords of the song end you take a few deep breaths, just enough to say goodbye to the crowd.

“Thank you all so much for coming! We can only hope for and work towards a better future than the present we find ourselves in. Goodnight.” You took a steadying breath as you rose from your stool and went back to your dressing room. The tears started streaming down your face the minute you turned away from the crowd, and at the moment you had no idea if they would ever stop. You immediately put on your go to emotional TS playlist “for when you are feeling everything all at once” and sunk to the floor.

tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97 @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @akuri-shinsou @prongsyy @panhoeofmanyfandoms @sherlockmarvelharrypotter

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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aro-culture-is · 4 years

Note

hello! i just have some thoughts on stuff you said a couple days ago, feel free to disagree (or not even answer this). i’m super curious how you feel about this! you said 'I wouldn’t say “ suggesting aroace as a label was inherently SAM because it specifies sexual and romantic orientation” so much as explicitly saying so, but yes.' i understand what you mean but i don't know if i totally agree? i would say i primarily identify as aro ace... (1/? this is gonna take ages, my biggest apologies)

and i understand that using both aro and ace is very different than identifying as just one (and like you said, using both inherently subscribes to the sam). but at the same time my experiencing ‘neither sexual nor romantic attraction’ doesn’t feel ‘neither sexual nor romantic’ it is all one thing to me. like i hate framing aspec identities in terms of a ‘lack’ but to fully explain what i’m trying to say: i don’t feel a separate ‘lack’ of romantic and sexual attraction, it is all one ‘lack.' (2)

maybe something to help explain is while i use the term ‘aro ace’ for myself i mostly just refer to myself as aspec? like i like having a term that does not require me to separate out attraction into two different types or align myself with one side of the sam. the fact that i don’t consider myself to fall on the a-spectrum (or, i’m on one end of it) means this isn’t my core identity label (if asked i say my identity is ‘aro ace’ for specificity’s sake) but most of the time i just use aspec. (3)

like in my mind i can kinda envision 3 axes of non-sam identities: ace-only, aro-only, and general lack-of-attraction only? aroace is what i have because of the sam and it’s the one i use generally but if there were a term that described this third axis that did not use the sam that’s the one i would use (again, aspec does the job here! and maybe aspec is the answer for me). (4)

and maybe that is not non-sam enough and i’m missing the spirit of adopting a non-sam label! perhaps the point is one aspect of the sam overriding the importance of the other ‘part’ of the sam label and having a way of specifying a general lack of attraction is too rooted in the ideas of sam for it to truly be a non-sam identity. (5)

also idk where to put this sentence but not to mention that people who might fall under the ‘aro ace’ identity tend to face pushback from people who do subscribe to the sam (usually for just identifying as ace, which is perceived as (and often criticized for) misrepresenting the ace identity/community). (6)

anyway this was all over the place (+ super long) but your post got me thinking about this and i’m super interested in your thoughts! feel free to decide i’m a pretentious asshole and disregard me entirely- i don’t even necessarily think i’m ‘right’, this is just me musing on how non-sam identities interact with the aroace identity. and as a non-sam aro i’m sure you’ve spent tons of time thinking about non-sam stuff so there’s probably lots here that’s missing the mark a bit. anyway thanks!(7/7)

bold line here so people know where my reply is lol

RIP me I typed out a reply and then tumblr suddenly decided me pressing backspace = go back a page. time to retype it all!

i understand that using both aro and ace is very different than identifying as just one (and like you said, using both inherently subscribes to the sam)

yes! I forget if I remembered to include it at the beginning of all this (like, the ask before the one you’re describing? I think? or maybe the one before that?) but I at least intended to include a note that I was excluding this position for simplicity. I didn’t feel comfortable trying to explain what an identity that I only knew of in theory might feel like. I super didn’t want to overstep and try to place y’all without seeing the personal piece.

i can kinda envision 3 axes of non-sam identities: ace-only, aro-only, and general lack-of-attraction only? aroace is what i have because of the sam and it’s the one i use generally but if there were a term that described this third axis that did not use the sam that’s the one i would use

sounds right to me, overall. admittedly, having a different term than “aromantic” is the only reason I use the phrasing “non-SAM” aro usually, and while other terms exist this one hits better than the others to me and has more of a history. I’d describe more of my emotions on that, but tbh emotions are hard and I’d rather not right now. (and oh can I hear that Therapist “Hmm” noise right now, the one always followed by “and why do you think that is?”)

people who might fall under the ‘aro ace’ identity tend to face pushback from people who do subscribe to the sam (usually for just identifying as ace, which is perceived as (and often criticized for) misrepresenting the ace identity/community)

:/ that’s shitty. when I first joined aspec tumblr, I wouldn’t hesitate to say at all that the two IDs I saw the most rep for was aroaces and non-sam aces, though it was typically just phrased as asexual. this was, perhaps, very late 2012 into early 2013? but in fall of 2014 the exclus attacked and tbh I see more of the aspec community and queer community holding onto some of their takes than I have the energy to deal with. this definitely sounds like one of those holdovers (ie, they attacked for using and not using the SAM because they just didn’t want any aspec people at all; 100% could see the non-SAM attacks sticking more because this was also when I saw the boom of people using the SAM for alloace IDs)

this is just me musing on how non-sam identities interact with the aroace identity.

it’s a pretty solid musing, I can say that at least. I wouldn’t feel comfortable labeling it as a non-SAM ID for everyone who feels like aroace/aspec/no attractoin as a single ID fits them best, but I can definitely see your feelings about being non-SAM feeling similar to mine.

as a non-sam aro i’m sure you’ve spent tons of time thinking about non-sam stuff

*nervous laughter*

but really though I struggle to describe my feelings so debates or discussions like this are most of my time spent thinking about non-sam stuff. I’m just in the position of being a “well-known” non-sam aro right now, and I try to answer things to the best of my ability. there’s not much of a community to get agreements or disagreements from so... I just do as I’ve always done. I just do my best to be honest with what I know and don’t know, what my thoughts and feelings are, and where I’m coming from. I don’t claim to be an expert in my identity so much as shouting into the void in hopes that the void will shout back.

fyi though that I’m also @just-aro for non-sam aro related things and some of my more general (non-submission) content.

#aro #aromantic #actually aro #actually aromantic #ask #non sam aro #non sam #long post #Anonymous #text #not aro culture #mod kee

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roseymoseyberry · 7 years

Text

Knocked Out (11/12)

As you can probably guess, turns out the last chapter will be last two chapters. Because of course it did since I said there was one last chapter.

I could have shoved it all into one chapter, but I felt this was better used as a short standalone chapter. Plus I know that there's some lovelies (more on ao3 but maybe some of y’all!) haven't actually read barbarian AUs before, and while I'm beyond honored to be the first and possibly only for you, this fic was written based on the assumption that the readers knew the matenapping trope therein and how I reversed it here, haha. So hopefully this is helpful to those of you who aren't familiar with the tropes inherent to barbarian AUs.

The actual last chapter will be posted either tomorrow or Friday. So I hope you enjoy this little snippet and god lord do I hope you enjoy the last chapter when I post it, hahaaaah.

ALSO! On the off chance you missed it, I wrote a little drabble in this AU which can be found over yonder.

Title: Knocked Out

Series: Transformers: Prime with the constructicons shoved right in there, and just a sprinkle of ideas pulled from tfidw

Pairing/Characters: Breakdown/Knockout, joined by Bulkhead and the Constructicons

Warnings: Robot injuries (nothing super gory), sexual jokes, language barriers, and fluff. Oh the fluff. Also slow burn I guess depending on your definition of slow haha.

Fic Summary:

And so there Breakdown found himself, with an injured barbarian in his arms who turned those dazzling crimson optics towards him, and for a split second Breakdown felt as if it was his knees that were injured because boy did they feel weak.

Barbarian AU where the citymech unwittingly does the kidnapping.

Chapter Summary:

“First time shopping for clothes, huh?”

“First time shopping for clothes, huh?”

Breakdown’s optics snapped up to find a red minibot wearing a blue wrap standing on the booth’s table, servo wrapped around one of the corner beams to lean towards Breakdown as the little mech grinned slyly at him. The minibot’s accent was one that Breakdown couldn’t place, not sounding like any he had heard in the cities he had been to. Before he even had a chance to reply, a nearly identical helm popped up. In fact, the only difference was that the second minibot had a blue paintjob.

“Ooh, a first timer?” The second minibot clambered onto the table as well, his red wrap not slowing him down at all. Even on the stand, the two of them didn’t reach Breakdown’s optics, but that didn’t seem to intimidate them at all.

“He was looking at the skirts like they were gonna sit up and bite him,” Red said to Blue’s delight.

Breakdown could hardly disagree, truth be told. Not that he had any time to get a word in edgewise before Blue leaned in, saying, “Aww, don’t be afraid, big guy! We can help you find something stylish and in your size!”

“Uh.” Breakdown blinked as he tried to gather his thoughts. Once Knockout had been put into stasis, Ratchet had shooed him out of the room, insisting he find something to do with himself for the next couple of hours and leave the healing to him. Needing something to occupy his processor with, Breakdown had decided to see if he couldn’t find a replacement for the dingy towel that Knockout had had wrapped around his waist.

After nearly an hour wandering the various street markets, Breakdown had finally spotted the stall. The tables were covered in neatly folded clothes of all sorts of colors and textures, and beams created overhead rows where yet more fabric was hung to billow with the breeze. The thin mech that Breakdown had assumed was running the booth on his own had been talking with another customer, so Breakdown thought he’d have a chance to just browse, see if he couldn’t glean some sort of knowledge by just looking at the fabric.

But no. It was all very pretty, but that was as far as Breakdown could figure. There seemed to be categories for different types of garments and they had signs stating what they were, but the words were meaningless to Breakdown. He didn’t even have the greatest optic for color, so Breakdown couldn’t even just start there. Would Knockout want something red? But what if it was the wrong shade? Grey? Black? Gold?

Now, faced with two minibots staring at him with nearly predatory grins, Breakdown felt both lost and concerned.

Maybe buying a gift had been a terrible idea.

“It’s, uh, it’s not for me,” Breakdown finally managed.

Twin optics widened with interest.

“Ooh, looking to court a barbarian, huh?”

“Strong mech like you shouldn’t have problems with the grabbing, but I could see how you might want help on the softer side of things,” Blue said as he considered Breakdown seriously.

“No point in catch and carry if you can’t keep ‘em with your personality,” Red agreed, acting deadly serious even as his twin snorted.

Breakdown was positive he was being made fun of, and that irritation only added to the burning embarrassment that came with realizing what they meant.

“I’m not matenapping anybody!” Breakdown argued, his engine rumbling in warning. “And I don’t appreciate you suggesting I would!”

Blue looked at Red who shrugged.

“An idiot and boring.”

“No sense of romance.”

Breakdown’s engine growled properly this time. However, there was no chance to follow through on any arguments when a monotone voice interrupted sternly, “Rumble, Frenzy: desist.”

“But boss!”

“We’re just teasing!”

If the mech was moved, Breakdown wouldn’t have known since the shopkeeper had a full face visor. Up close he looked even thinner. Most of his frame was covered in a loose tunic, but his arms were bare, thin and more blades than anything, and his digits were impossibly slim as they unfurled to wave the two minibots off. And, surprisingly, the twins scrambled off the table, though they did grumble under their ex-vents. Soon after, a pair of flying mechanimals swooped towards them, but judging from the giggles that brought, they seemed to know the creatures.

“Apologies,” the shopkeeper said, bringing Breakdown’s attention back to his featureless visor. “Seeking a gift?”

“Yeah,” Breakdown replied, at once finding himself trapped again in the awkwardness of not knowing what he was doing. If the shopkeeper noticed his discomfort though, he didn’t comment on it, just waited patiently. “Crew and I picked up a mech on our way here and he’s just been wearing my drying towel for a few days now, so I figured I should pick him up some actual clothes, you know?”

With a small nod, the mech further asked, “A barbarian?”

“Yeah. I mean, who else would wear clothes?”

“Two small religious sects,” the mech answered easily, “and some citymecha seeking alternative fashion choices.”

“Oh.” Breakdown grimaced, worrying he had somehow offended. “Sorry, you one of those then or--”

“No.”

“Uh, then you’re a bar--”

“No.” Breakdown would have sworn the slightest shifting of light in the mech’s visor was humor.

“Soundwave’s a translator!” one of the minibots interrupted, popping his helm up above the table’s edge with one of the flyers perched on top. “He’s got a crazy big processor for language and has pretty much all of them rattling around in there now.”

And, of course, the second minibot wasn’t far behind with his own flyer, pride clear as day on his face as he added, “He’s been to all the cities and met every tribe we’ve ever heard of and more! So he’s pretty much the smartest and coolest mech you’ll ever meet.”

“We’re barbarians though.”

“Cassette tribe, and don’t forget it!”

“Enough.”

The twins snapped their mouths shut petulantly.

Breakdown stared at the odd little group of mecha before glancing around at the stall. “So then this is, what, something you do to fill the time between jobs?”

There was that flicker again as Soundwave nodded.

So. A citymech with barbarian connections who was a contract worker.

Breakdown felt his spark finally ease as he said, “Then it sounds like you’re just the mech I need to help me try to figure out what the frag to buy.”

With an easy nod, Soundwave asked, “Do you know his style preference?”

“No. I mean, he wears my towel wrapped between his legs and then around his hips, but that might just be because that’s all I had. His clothes had already been taken from him before we met him and his tribe.”

“Tribe name?”

Breakdown had to take a moment to think on that before answering, “Is Velocitron a tribe?”

Identical pairs of optics blew out wide.

“A Velocitron?!” the twins squealed in unison.

“Is he beautiful? They’re supposed to be real bright and pretty!”

“And fast! How did you manage to catch him?”

“Yeah! They’re about the toughest mecha you could try to court, and super rare nowadays!”

“Is he in the city with you? Can we meet him?!”

“We’ve never met an actual Velocitron before!”

“You’re so slagging lucky!”

With another wave of Soundwave’s servo, Frenzy and Rumble quieted, though they practically vibrated with energy now. The interruption couldn’t have come at a better time since Breakdown was pretty sure he had somehow managed to, yet again, step his pede into something he did not understand.

But Airachnid had said something vaguely similar. She seemed so focused on the fact that Knockout was a Velocitron--

With a quick motion, Soundwave laid out a neatly folded bundle of fabric.

“This style and fabric preferred by Velocitron tribe,” Soundwave explained simply. “Short so it does not impede running and fabric type allows airflow to assist in faster frame cooling.”

Breakdown gingerly reached out to touch the bundle. The texture was smooth and thin compared with some of the other fabrics around the booth, and when Breakdown unfurled it he found that unlike the tunic that Soundwave wore or some of the other options on the table, it was actually similar in dimension and simplicity to Breakdown’s towel. Longer in length and narrower in width, but Breakdown could only assume that it was meant to be worn similarly to how Knockout had worn the towel.

It was nice. Beautiful even in a weird way. Certainly it would be a better fit for Knockout. Breakdown couldn’t help imagining how much nicer it would look, laying smoothly across the curves of Knockout’s hips and thighs instead of adding bulk like that old towel. Primus, he hoped that Knockout would like it, might even smile when it was handed to him like he had when he first put on that towel--

“Black only color currently available,” Soundwave continued, pulling Breakdown from his thoughts. “More colors and fabrics can be sought if desired in the future.”

“Nah, no worries,” Breakdown said, the grin he hadn’t realized had bloomed on his face turning sheepish as he waved off the offer. “Truthfully this just makes it easier for me since I wasn’t sure what color to get. So this will be perfect. How much is it?”

“I mean, that’s a pretty rare item,” one twin started, his predatory grin mirrored on his twin’s face. However, neither of them got in another word as Soundwave shook his helm.

“A gift,” Soundwave stated, “for your mate.”

Breakdown’s spark whirled madly.

“Oh, no, he’s not—it’s not like that!” he insisted, flustered as he shook his helm.

The twins rolled their optics while Soundwave’s helm tilted with curiosity.

“He is a barbarian you separated from his tribe and brought with your own, correct?”

“But I didn’t kidnap him!” Breakdown argued, at once indignant again at the accusation. After seeing how Airachnid and her tribe treated Knockout, Breakdown would never let anyone do that to the barbarian, let alone do so himself. “I didn’t force him to come here with me or anything! He could leave if he wanted--”

“Idiot,” the twins echoed, their tone bored. Breakdown’s frown deepened as he glowered at them.

“Not accusing matenapping,” Soundwave explained, tone still as even as ever, apparently not at all concerned with upsetting Breakdown. “Matenapping and barbarian courtship practices often confused, but are not equivalent.”

“They’re—they’re not the same thing?” Breakdown asked, doing his best to focus on Soundwave instead of the small barbarians silently mocking him.

“No. Matenapping equivalent to kidnapping and slavery. Barbarian courtship involves catching a potential mate to exhibit physical traits, then bringing them to the courter’s tribe, using travel time to exhibit further traits that prove the courter will be a good mate and the new tribe a good match. Potential mate may end courtship and return to their tribe at any time.”

Breakdown felt realization dawning unbidden.

“Wait. Really?”

“I can’t believe an idiot citymech like you managed to accidentally court a Velocitron,” one twin grumbled bitterly while the other nodded in agreement.

Soundwave however asked, “Courtship not discussed?”

“No. I mean, we don’t really speak the same language yet—there’s no way he—sorry, I should probably go,” Breakdown stammered, gathering up the fabric in his servos. “You sure I can just--?”

“Gift,” Soundwave insisted.

“You’ll need it,” one twin agreed.

“Thanks,” Breakdown said to Soundwave as he shoved his prize away and turned to leave. However, he only got a step or two before spinning back around and catching Soundwave’s gaze. After a moment of considering and reconsidering, Breakdown asked, “You don’t happen to know what a barithi is, do you?”

That left the minibots stumped, but there was no mistaking the amused flicker of Soundwave’s visor.

#fanfiction

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