#I wish I knew who made this. thank you thank you thank you

[enthusiasticharry]

the one where YN gets a job as a bartender in a motorbike club's bar, and Harry runs the club.

author's note: suprise!! i'm back again!! i promised i wouldn't keep you waiting and i'm not. this is the first part in my biker!harry mini-series which i started a while ago and only just got around to finishing! let me know what you think and what you'd like to see in the next instalments!

word count: 11.6k of sexy biker!harry (that's it, that's all).

WARNINGS: strong language, smut, bike riding, a bar fight and talks of a motor accident.

let me know what you think of clover here!! mwah <3

1979

“Look, sweets, I’d hire you on the spot if I thought it would be a good idea,” Mick spoke from across the bar, towel over one shoulder and another in his hand drying a glass, “But it just isn’t, I’m sorry.”

YN sighed, dropping her hands down on the bar. This was the fourth one she’d tried, and so far, she hadn’t had any luck. She wasn’t asking for much – just a job to help pay for her student loans. She had graduated a year ago and bounced from job to job, and yet none of them seemed to fit. It wasn’t necessarily her dream to work in a bar, but she hadn’t a single clue about what her dream was. She had a first-class honours history degree (which she adored getting) and yet not a single idea of what to do with it.

She couldn’t think of the future at this moment, she needed to think about the now and if she wanted to continue to live in her small apartment and eat — she needed a job.

Clovers had been her last hope. It was the last bar in town that YN was yet to try, and despite its less-than-positive reputation – it was always busy, and that meant money coming in. As she turned to look around the bar, which was already quite crowded for it being early on a Friday night, she couldn’t help but imagine the cash that was funnelling through the establishment, and how she wished she could get at least some of it.

“Can I get you a drink, sweets?” Mick spoke again, offering her a soft smile, “It’ll hopefully soften the blow a little bit.”

YN smiled at the man and nodded, “Thank you. Whisky, please.”

Mick got straight to work, placing the glass in front of her, dropping an ice cube into the glass and pouring her a more than generous shot. Just as she fumbled with her purse to pull out some bills to pass to Mick, he shook his head and held his hand out to stop it. She smiled in thanks and watched as he turned and walked away, going to serve the next customer who was standing a few feet away from her.

YN picked up her drink, and just as she was about to take a drink the door beside her opened. Her lips parted, her eyes watching as a group of what seemed to be fifteen or so men, all clad in heavy leather or dark denim walked into the bar.

Of course, YN knew about them. Anyone who lived here knew who they were, but it was the first time that she had seen them this up close. The most she had ever experienced with them was the low rumbling of their engines from a distance, or possibly them riding past her but that was only ever one or two. It was their jackets that often set them apart from the rest of the riders in the town, the very specific Clover’s Riders jacket that every member adorned and what seemed like all times.

The men were loud as they stepped in, most of them heading towards the bar whilst others went to some of the other members who were already seated in the bar. YN’s eyes never left the door until the last one had made his entrance, and she just couldn’t seem to draw them away.

He was younger than many of his counterparts, probably resting at an age near YN’s or possibly a few years or so older. He was clad in the same heavy denim that many of the others wore, but they seemed to sit on his body much easier. The curls of his hair were tousled in every direction it seemed, but YN found herself wondering as to what it would feel like to run her fingers through it.

With a shake of her head, she turned back to her glass and lifted it to her lips. She took a large gulp of the liquid, allowing that to slip down her throat before she finished the rest of it. Mick was long gone from being anywhere near her, working at what seemed like double speed to keep up with the orders that the gang of men were giving him, and she felt as though that was probably her cue to leave. She would have to brainstorm other options for work, seeing as though this just hadn’t called through.

Sighing, YN pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushed up from the stool she was resting on. Just as she turned around to make a beeline for the door through the bodies that were crowding the room, she was stopped by a body in front of hers.

“Woah, woah, little darling where do you think you’re going?” It was one of the riders, standing in front of her with a grin on his features.

“Home,” she said with a shrug.

“So soon,” The man looked over his shoulder to some of his friends who were standing close by, “Me and my buddies here didn’t even get to say hello.”

“Right, okay, hello,” YN nodded to the man in front of her and those behind him, “Really have to get going.”

The man extended his arms so that she couldn’t carry move from her space in front of him, “Let us buy you a drink little darling, I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’ve already had one, thank you, and it was very enjoyable,” YN offered them another small smile, “Now please move out of my way so that I can go home.”

“Hey, none of that,” The man shook his head, “Stay with us, I promise we’ll make it worth it.”

YN hummed, tilting her head from side to side lightly, “I’ll pass but I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone else to make the night worth it.”

And with that, YN pushed past the man and beelined for the door. She half expected him to grab her, but from the hoots and hollers of his friends, he was too embarrassed to do anything else.

The bar that YN had worked out whilst she was completing her degree had taught her a thing or two about how to deal with rowdy men, and whilst the firm but clear approach worked in most cases, YN wasn’t afraid to resort to other means if necessary. It was all a respect thing, and more often than not if you deal back to them what they deal to you – the situation usually sorts itself.

YN had just rested her palm against the wood of the door when she heard someone call her name. She saw Mick standing there, leaning over the bar to catch her attention.

“Saw you deal with those guys,” He nodded his head over to the men whose attention had been taken by another woman in the bar, who seemed to accept their advances more than YN did, “When can you start?”

YN’s face broke out into a smile and took a delighted step towards Mick, “Whenever.”

“Right now?” He raised his eyebrows at her, motioning to the men who were calling his name for more drinks, “Have a feeling we’re going to be swamped tonight.”

YN nodded and immediately dropped her purse down behind the bar and rolled the sleeves of her cardigan up.

She turned to the men who were now staring at her with their mouths slightly agape, “What can I get you?”

It was a Thursday night and YN had been working at Clover’s for around a week at this point when Mick decided that she could handle a night on her own. After being thrown into what very much was the deep end on her first shift, there had been time the next day for Mick to show her the ropes properly and anything she would specifically need to know.

Mick said that he normally wouldn’t leave such a new person on their own so quickly, but he had an important family issue that he couldn’t get out of and that she had shown enough trust that he wasn’t worried. It was a Thursday, so it wasn’t going to be too busy but even so, those who were going to be there would be Riders, and they would protect their bar from anything.

It was nearing nine, and YN would probably say that they were at a quarter of their capacity, the majority of them being riders who had been there for the last few hours or so. YN was lucky she supposed. They never ordered anything more complicated than a beer, at most a whisky or a bourbon and this was their bar so there were never any arguments about paying for the drinks.

There was a lull in the orders, so YN decided to take it upon herself to dry some of the glasses she had washed in the previous lull. This job was not for the weak she would say that, but YN would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. She loved people watching and mixed with the hum of the jukebox it was the perfect combination for her.

The door to the bar opened again about twenty minutes, and in walked that same man that caught her attention a week or so ago, on that first day she was here. He looked the same, apart from he was clad in a mixture of denim and leather this time instead of just denim, and a large bruise was sprouting from under his left eye. To YN, it was obvious that the cause was a punch, for there was nothing else that could cause a bruise such as that one. He walked into the room, ignored the hoots and hollers from some of the other men and took a seat right in the middle of the bar.

YN threw the towel she was holding over her shoulder and walked towards him, resting her hands on the edge of the bar, “What can I get ya?”

The man didn’t stray his eyes away from where they were planted firmly on the wood of the bar, “Beer, and a whisky.”

YN nodded, reaching over to pop the lid of the beer, “Do you want ice in the whisky?”

The man just hummed, so YN got straight to work making his drink for him. It was different to that of the other men in the bar — watching him. Whilst they were loud and rowdy and always had something to say to someone – he was silent. He just sat, with the company of his only himself and drank his drink.

Snapping YN out of her gaze (which had been on the man for a few beats too long) was a call of her name from just down the bar. She walked over to where it came from, a man called Taylor who YN had become quite acquainted with in the last few days or so.

Most of the men (not all, obviously) that she had become acquainted with during the last few weeks were lovely. They loved to have a quick natter with her whilst she made their drinks, some of them flirted with her but she didn’t care (it was part of the job) and nobody bothered her. If one or two of the men when they were drunk got a little handsy or started to say things which would be deemed inappropriate, the other lads would circle her and make sure she was okay. She felt safe, which she was quite surprised was the case.

“A piece of advice,” Taylor spoke over the bar as YN started opening the bottles of beer for him and his friends, “Harry over there always orders the same thing, and he’ll drink the whiskey last before he leaves.”

“Thank you,” YN nods with a small smile across her lips, unable to stop her eyes beating over to him for a second – Harry.

“He’s a quiet one,” Taylor continues speaking, grabbing a few bills out of his pocket to pay for the drinks, “But harmless, I promise. To be fair, you’d think the man who founded the club would have more to say.”

YN’s eyes widen, she had no idea that Harry was the one who founded the club. She hadn’t suspected it at all.

“He founded it?” She asked with a slight raise of her eyebrow. She wasn’t trying to pry, but there were things that she wanted to know, and Taylor already had that buzz that made her know that he would be willing to answer any questions she had.

“Yeah, it was him and a few others,” Taylor shrugged, attempting to pick up the three bottles of beer all in one go, “A few years ago now, and it only grew from there.”

YN nodded once more and watched as he walked back to his table. She put the bills that he had given her for the drinks into the register and put the tip she had been given into her apron.

There was something about that man that had caught her attention from that first day, and yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. Now, it made sense. The aura that he had when he walked into the room, as well as the way he sat and held himself – he had a strong presence in the group without even trying.

YN had more questions, but she knew it probably wasn’t the best to pry right now. Instead, she just got on with everything that she had to do. She served drinks and cleaned up after herself right up until close. YN hadn’t realised when Harry had left, but he had slipped out without a single person realising.

She hummed as she swept the floors, tried her hardest to count the cash right the first time and put it in the safe before continuing with her other closing jobs. The chairs were off the floor, as much of the stickiness in the room that YN could remove was gone and the doors were locked and checked.  

Once she had stepped outside, and locked the door to the bar behind her, the late hour catching up with her very quickly – she realised at that point she wasn’t alone.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that he was standing there, resting against his motorcycle with a cigarette dangling from between his lips. YN was confused but continued to lock the door and make sure that nobody could get inside. Then she turned, and that was when she saw Harry looking directly at her.

“Can I help you?” She muttered, fidgeting with the keys she was holding in her hand.

He inhaled the smoke from his cigarette, holding it for a second or so before he exhaled, “Heard you were asking questions.”

YN’s heart drops slightly, heat pulsating around her body, “Am I not allowed to ask questions?”

He ran his teeth over his bottom lip, placing the cigarette back in his mouth, “Can’t stop you from doing that, but any questions you have about me, you can ask me yourself.”

YN just pursed her lips and nodded, “Okay then… do you always stalk women when they’re leaving work?”

Harry didn’t seem shocked by her words, or react in any way to them at all, which was surprising to her. But, then again, she hadn’t seen much of a reaction out of this man this entire time she had known of him.

“Only the ones that have worked in my bar for a week.”

“Your bar?” YN widened her eyes, “Thought Mick owned it?”

Harry shook his head, “I do. Mick’s my employee, and so are you.”

“Do you not trust me or something? Think I’m walking away with pocketfuls of cash?”

“I would already know if you’d done that, and you wouldn’t be working here anymore,” YN just nodded, “But this side of a town can be sketchy at night, and you never know who could be lurking.”

YN just scoffed, turning to walk away from the man, “Thank you, but I can look after myself.”

“Suit yourself,” Harry shrugged, climbing onto his bike, and kicking the stand-up. YN could hear the engine turning on, the loud rumble filling the empty street.

YN continued walking, expecting him to speed past her but he didn’t. The low rumble continued down the street, even when she turned – the sound turned too. It was frustrating and annoying. All YN wanted to do was to get home, have something to eat and get in bed. Instead, she was having to deal with what was becoming an annoying rider, who couldn’t seem to leave her alone.

This continued for around ten minutes, and with each second that passed YN was getting more and more annoyed. Just as she turned onto the edge of her street, the apartment she shared with her roommate Ashley coming into view in the distance, she decided that enough was enough.

She stopped and turned around on the pavement, Harry pulling in on his bike to stop just in front of her. YN sighed and placed her hand on her hips.

“Do we have a problem?”

Harry rested his hands on his bike still, but was facing her, “No problem.”

“Then why are you following me home?” A small chuckle escaped her lips, “You know those strange people you were talking about earlier; you do know you’re acting like one of them?”

“You’re one of us now,” He shrugs, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world – it certainly wasn’t for YN at all.

“That means you follow me home?” The confusion grows with every moment in YN, and yet Harry doesn’t seem the slightest bit worried.

“You didn’t want a ride,” He pulls his carton of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up, “Had to make sure you got home safe.”

“Right,” YN just nods, “Well, I think I can manage on my own from here. And, if I’m all of a sudden one of you should I expect my jacket in the post? Or do you do collection?”

With a final scoff, she turned and walked away from the man. This time, when the engine started, YN didn’t turn to look at Harry and instead carried on to her front door. It was only then that she turned to peer over her shoulder, just in time to see Harry speed past her and into the night.

She had an incline that this job was going to be interesting, but she had no idea just how much.

It wasn’t necessarily a normal working pattern that YN had found herself in.

Sleeping for most of the day and being awake all night wasn’t necessarily the big girl working pattern that she had aspired to when she was younger, but for the time being she was enjoying it. It did mean that when Ashley returned from her nine-to-five working as a receptionist (YN couldn’t think of anything worse to be honest), YN was just getting ready to start her day.

YN was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a half-eaten sandwich clutched tightly in her hand. She wasn’t too hungry, but she knew that if she didn’t eat something before, she left for work she would regret it later on. The second that Ashley stepped through the door and threw her bag down on the floor, she threw YN a quizzical look.

“What?” YN asked, wiping the mayo that rested on the curve of her lip off with her thumb.

“Do you happen to know anything about the smoking-hot rider staring at the apartment from across the street?”

YN’s entire face dropped, “What?”

Ashley walked over and dropped down on the other side of the sofa, reaching out to steal one of YN’s chips from her plate. Ashley seemed slightly unfazed by the newfound stalker YN had acquired, and that stressed the girl out significantly.

“What do you mean?” YN pushed herself up, making her way over to the window where there he was. Resting against his bike, cigarette resting from his lips sat Harry, staring at the front door to the building with an unreadable expression on his face,

“He’s been there since this morning,” Ashley adds to the conversation causally, running a hand through her hair which she had just pulled out of its undo, “At first, I thought he was waiting for Sandy, you know, from 2.B but then I saw the jacket and realised he must be here for you.”

“He’s not here for me,” YN shook her head, slapping the curtains shut and walking back over to her friend, “He’s stalking me, I can’t believe you’re not more stressed about this.”

Ashley just shrugged, “Worse people to be stalked by, I suppose. He’s one of Clover’s, he’ll be harmless.”

“No, Ashley, he’s not just one of Clover’s,” YN sighed, running a hand over her face before scooting around the apartment to grab her belongings, “He is Clover.”

It was Ashley’s face that dropped this time, “What do you mean?”

“That’s Harry,” YN pulled each one of her pumps on her feet, “He founded the gang!”

“You’re kidding,” Ashley all but screams, “Jesus YN, I knew I was concerned about this job, but I think you’ve done pretty alright for yourself.”

YN just shook her head. She grabbed her jacket, and her bag and made her way over to the door.

“If I go missing, you know who’s responsible,” With that, YN turned away from her friend and rushed out of the door.

She took the stairs down from her apartment at double speed, almost tripping over her feet multiple times. She pulled her jacket on just as she got to the front door. Just before she was going to push it open, just stopped and hesitated for a second. One deep breath in and out was all it took to compose herself, and then she pushed the door open.

Harry spotted her immediately, throwing the cigarette he had in his hand a few metres away from his bike, where a collection was beginning to grow. YN made sure to check the left and the right of her before crossing the road, not quite fancying becoming roadkill this early in the day.

“You’re lucky my neighbours didn’t call the cops on you,” Is the first thing that slips from YN’s lips, before she realises how stupid that sounds.

For the first time since she met him, a small smile crosses Harry’s lips. She had amused him, and oh did she want to do it again.

“You know you can’t stay out here all day,” She follows with, “I’m going to the bar now anyway.”

“I got something for you,” Harry pushed himself up off the bike and that’s when she saw it.

A denim jacket, smaller than the others that she had seen but still carrying the ever-so-known Clover’s Riders logo on the back. That four-leaf clover was known all over town, and towns for miles in every direction and now it seemed YN had one of her own. It would open paths for her but also close them as well. She knew that the second she accepted that jacket, things would change all over again.

“I don’t even ride, Harry,” She sighed, shaking her head slightly, “I’ve never been on a bike in my life.”

He just shrugged once more, “There’s always time to change that.”

YN toyed up her options, and it took a lot less time than she had thought it would to swipe the jacket from his hands. She shrugged off the one she was wearing and slipped her arms inside the material. It was the perfect fit, exactly what she would have chosen for herself. Harry beamed another smile at her and swung his leg over his bike once more.

“C’mon,” He tilted his head at her, “I have something I want to show you.”

“I’ll be late for work,” YN shook her head, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from throwing her leg over the side of the bike and using Harry’s shoulder to help steady herself as she got on.

“You’ll be fine,” Harry spoke, and that’s when YN realised that whilst yes, she was probably going to be late for work, she was also on the back of the owner’s bike – so the trouble couldn’t be too grave, “Hold on tight.”

YN did as the man said, wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist. The second that the engine started, and Harry kicked the stand-up they went flying down the road, and she realised in that exact moment why he said tight. YN’s body lurched forward into Harry’s, her cheek resting against the leather of his jacket, and her hands tightening around him.

Once the initial fear had worn off, and YN finally peered over the man’s shoulder – she would be lying if she said that it didn’t feel in a word freeing. The wind through her hair, the chill of the speed at which she was going laced with the feeling of Harry pressed so closely against her. Sure, she had been scared but now she knew that there wasn’t anything to be scared of. It wasn’t a scary thing, instead, it was something to be enjoyed.

YN’s lips curled upwards, a slight giggle leaving them as she noticed they went speeding through a red light. Many, and by many YN meant most, of the riders had a back pocket full of speeding tickets, and lights that they’ve jumped and yet none of them seemed to care. It was as though all of the law-abiding parts of their brains didn’t function when they were on bikes. On second thought, even when they weren’t on the bikes the law-abiding parts of their brain didn’t function.

Harry pulled over just as they joined the road which took them out of the city. They had completely passed Clover’s, and YN hadn’t the faintest clue of how late she was for work at this point, but it didn’t matter. It would take a lot for this smile to leave her face today. Once the bike came to a stop, YN used Harry’s shoulder to push up off of it.

Harry sits on the bike, but his eyes never leave the girl. The way she almost looked like a baby deer as she got her grounding once she was off the bike, the way her hair stuck out in every and all directions, and most importantly the beaming smile that never left her face. For the first time in a long time, there were no thoughts in YN’s head. There were no worries about growing up and getting a proper job, or stress about money – it was completely and utterly freeing. She supposed that was why there were so many of the riders and she supposed they were all chasing that feeling.

“You’ve got to teach me how to ride,” She sighed, the blissful smile never leaving her lips.

Harry just nodded, “Whenever you want.”

“Really?” Her face widened in excitement.

Harry shrugged, “You’ve gotta know how to ride if you’re going to be a rider.”

YN just nodded, and almost jumped back onto the bike. Harry didn’t say anything when she wrapped her arms back around his waist, not a single gap between their bodies but it just felt so comfortable. Harry kicked the stand down once more and sprang straight into action, turning slowly around on the road before speeding up the second they were on the straight back to the town.

All YN knew was that she was going to savour the feeling of the wind in her hair.

It was another Saturday night, and it was packed in the bar.

YN was so thankful that she could stay behind the safety of the actual bar and not venture out into the rest of the room. The men had just come back from a ride, and they were all excited and loud and wanting nothing but drink upon drink upon drink. She had been there from earlier on in the day today, and when Mick showed up later in the evening, she hadn’t managed to utter a single word but hello to him since.

All she could think of was the fact that once the rush had died down, it would be her time to go home and rest. In what felt like a very long few months of working every day (at first YN hadn’t minded, but she was slowly getting more and more burnt out) it was finally time for her to have a day off. Mick had graciously said to her the other day that he could handle Sunday on his own, and those words felt like gold slipping from his lips. She didn’t have a single clue of what she was going to do with her day, all she knew was that it was going to be relaxing.

She just had to get through this night first.

At first, the night seemed fine. Everyone was in good spirits and there was nothing more than a few drunken disagreements that sorted themselves out. YN had taken that as the opportunity to make her way over to where Harry was sitting and replenish his beer while he was there. It was then that the door was thrown open, and the entire atmosphere in the room changed.

What had at first been a lovely evening had changed within the second, and it was all because of a man that she hadn’t recognised. He didn’t have a rider’s jacket on his back, and that should have been YN’s first clue that this man was going to be in trouble. This was a riders’ bar, and those jackets were almost like a rite of passage. Without one, people stuck out like a sore thumb.

It became even more obvious to YN when the man beelined straight over to where Harry was sitting. He didn’t sit and instead leant over Harry, so his focus was on him. YN stayed close, but she didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was listening. She wasn’t the only one either – she could see other riders peering over at them from where they were sitting.

“You said if I did it, I’d get my jacket,” Those were the first words that came out of the man’s mouth – not even a greeting of hello, “I did it. Where’s the fucking jacket?”

Harry didn’t say anything for a second or so. Instead, he lifted his recently replenished beer to his lips and took a swag. He was doing as he always did – taking his sweet darn time.

“I said I’d think about it,” Harry mumbles, shrugging slightly as he did, “I’ve thought about it… and no.”

The man smacks his hand down onto the bar top, the sound echoing throughout the room. It silenced everyone, and all eyes turned to the two men. YN’s eyes looked towards Mick with a panicked expression on them but he shook his head, hoping that would calm the girls down.

“That wasn’t the fucking deal,” The man spits, coming right up into Harry’s face but it didn’t seem to deter the man at all, “The deal was to drop the shipment, I get the fucking jacket.”

Harry finally turned to look at the man, his stern expression never wavering, “Do you think I want someone like you, someone that doesn’t listen wearing one of my jackets?”

The man didn’t like that response, and it seemed as though as quickly as YN could blink her eyes the man was grasping the lapels of Harry’s jacket and pulling him up from the stool. He was then pushed straight into the bar, a slight grunt leaving his lips as he did. There was the initial sound of beer stools scratching on the floor, and other Riders were reading to split the two men up but all it took was Harry lifting one of his hands and they all stopped in their places.

“I don’t want someone who’s that willing to fight one of his men wearing a jacket.”

That was all it took for the other man to make the first punch. His arm pulled backwards, and his fist hit Harry straight across the jaw. The skin immediately went red, but Harry didn’t look like a man who had just been hit straight across the jaw. The bar stayed silent, obviously waiting for whatever Harry’s retaliation was going to be.

What YN, and certainly a lot of others in the bar hadn’t expected was Harry to reach behind him, to where his empty beer bottle was sat and hit the man over the head with it. The man fell to the ground, his grip on Harry letting go instantly. Harry lifted his hand, wincing when he noticed that a shard of glass from the broken bottle had lodged itself in his skin.

He just sighed, rubbing his forehead with his uninjured hand, “Get him out of here.”

Three of the men who were watching closely immediately listened to him, walking over, and picking the man up. They carried him out of the bar and were back to their drinks in what seemed like minutes. It was as though nobody truly seemed to care as to what had just happened and were more excited to get back to their drinks truly as though nothing had happened.

YN watched as Harry threw back the glass of whisky that had sat on the bar waiting for him (courtesy of Mick). That seemed like something that YN would have to take note of. With that, he dropped a few bills on the counter and stormed out of the bar. YN watched this and immediately started to pull her apron off her body.

“Mick,” The older man hummed from the other side of the bar, “I’m going outside for a break. I’ll only be a minute.”

The older man just threw YN a look, obviously having spotted who had left the bar just before she wanted to, “Be careful.”

YN just laughed, throwing the latch open, “I’m always careful.”

The second she stepped outside; she was shocked to see that Harry’s bike was still there, but he wasn’t sitting on it. There was a slight chill in the night air, and YN looked from left to right to try and spot him, but he was still nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until YN made her way towards the alley that followed the side of the bar that she finally realised where he had gone.

It was dark, but not dark enough to miss the figure leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips. YN wrapped her arms around herself, wanting to conceal at least some of the warmth from inside. As her shoes crunched on the path, Harry’s eyes turned to look at her. He was ready for it to be someone else, and it was almost as though when he noticed that it was her – his features seemed to relax.

“How’s your hand?” She asked, coming to a stop right in front of him.

He raised his palm towards her, “It’s been better.”

YN winced to herself slightly as she looked at his hand, seeing the shard of glass still sticking out of the skin. Whilst she didn’t have a first aid kit on her body at this exact moment, it was good that she knew where one was.

“Come with me,” She nodded, walking further down the alley to the bar’s back entrance.

YN didn’t even turn to make sure that he was following her, she just knew that he would be. She held the door open for him, and the one that opened to the office of the bar (where Mick spent most of his time during the day, sorting the books out) and pointed at the chair by the desk.

Whilst Harry sat down without a word to her, YN reached up to the shelf above them and brought the first aid kit down. Harry’s eyes watched her as she pulled tweezer, gauze, and some antiseptic to clean and dress his wound. It was all very silent, and still but caring.

“Can I?” She asked, checking sure it was okay to touch his hand.

Harry nodded, placing his hand in hers. To YN, she wasn’t sure if she was truly touch-starved that feeling of his hand in hers felt truly intimate. She got to work straight away, pulling the glass out with the tweezers ever so carefully before wiping the surface of the cut. Even though YN knew that it would have stung, Harry’s face didn’t show anything, only one raised an eyebrow slightly.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” She mumbles, face still full of concentration on making sure the wound is fully clean before she wraps it.

Harry just nodded, “You see wounds like these before?”

YN nodded, “I’ve worked in bars before – of course, I’ve seen wounds like these before.”

Harry just nods, allowing YN to move his hand at her ease to ensure that it is wrapped tightly and securely. He opened his mouth once she had finished, as though he was going to ask her something, but he closed it straight away. She wanted nothing more than to tell him that he could ask her anything that he wanted to, but she didn’t want to scare him away.

“You’re all set,” She offered him a small smile.

“Thank you,” The words sort of felt foreign, but very sincere coming from his lips, “I… you didn’t have to.”

YN just shrugged, “Wasn’t going to let you bleed out – would’ve been bad for business.”

Harry offered her a small smile at her attempt at a joke, “I’m sorry about what happened in there as well… usually we try to keep those sorts of things out of the bar.”

“Harry,” His name came out of her lips softly, hoping that would be the thing to tell him that it was okay. That she wasn’t angry at him, “I know… it doesn’t bother me – I promise.”

He just nods, “I knew that, you know.”

YN furrows her eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“That first day,” He reached out to her, and did the last thing that she would ever expect – grabbed her hand, “The way you dealt with some of the lads… I knew you were different.”

“It was you…” The words slipped out of YN’s mouth before she could truly register them, “You saw me that day.”

It all made sense. YN had noticed Harry that very first day that she’d appeared at Clover, and whilst originally Mick had said no, he had changed his mind and said yes. To YN, it had looked and seemed that Mick was the one who had made that decision, and yet it made sense that it was Harry to be the one who changed Mick’s mind. Harry, if he had been sitting at his barstool would have been a metre or so away from that conversation – and he would have heard every word that had been said.

“I did,” Harry nods, claiming every thought that YN had to be true, “I saw you, the way you spoke to them, the way you stood your ground and god, YN, I was hooked.”

That was the first time that YN had heard Harry speak her name, and she was addicted. She wanted to hear it over, and over and over again. He noticed the slight shift in her and used his legs to roll the chair he was sitting on closer to where she was resting against the desk. Then he slipped his uninjured arm around her body and pulled her down to him. She straddled his knees, relishing the feeling of his body beneath hers.

“I…” Her words came out as a whisper, “I felt the same.”

Relief. That was the look on his face – it was a true relief.

“You did?”

“God, Harry,” YN giggles, shaking her head, “I tried not to, but I would be lying if I said that most of my thoughts haven’t been filled with you. Wanting to know more.”

“You can know anything,” His thumb slipped underneath the thin material of her shirt, a heat spreading across her entire body from that one single touch, “Ask me anything, everything – I’ll answer. Whatever you want to know?”

YN pondered that for a second. She could have asked him anything, and yet there was one thought which was present in her mind more than any of the others. An hour ago, this question would have been risky – she just wouldn’t have asked it. Yet, in the safety of this room – away from peering eyes, or anyone who could make assumptions as to what it meant – she wanted nothing more than to ask it.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Harry exhaled a breath, lifting his hand to rest against her cheek, “More than anything.”

YN nodded.

“Harry…” He hummed at the call of her name, “Kiss me.”

His thumb danced from her cheek, down to her lip. He ran it across the skin of her bottom lip, pushing down slightly so that her lips parted for him. The only sound in the room was YN’s heavy breathing, a response to the teasing that was on display right in front of her.

Then his face inched forward, and his lips were on hers. It didn’t take long for his tongue to slip past her parted lips, dancing with her own. This closeness to someone, the vulnerability – YN had missed it. She pushed her body forward towards Harry’s, slipping her hands in the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands, never mind the bandaged one which would have still caused him pain, rested upon her denim-clad arse. They found their home resting there, and YN wasn’t about to move them.

Harry pulled away from her lips, obviously needing oxygen as much as she did. But he wasted no time in dropping his attack down her neck, his teeth nipping the skin there. YN’s hands still rested in the curls at the nape of his neck, and heavy breaths parted from her lips.

“Harry,” She gasped as he started to suck at the sweet spot where her neck met her collarbone, “I need to get back to work.”

“No, you don’t,” He mumbled, and YN just rolled her eyes.

“I’ve deserted Mick,” She continues, “He might need help.”

“Mick’ll be fine,” He pulled his head up, resting on her chest as he peered up at her, “And anyway, I’m your boss.”

YN shook her head, “I need to go.”

Harry groaned but finally nodded, “Ride home with me?”

“Of course,” YN pecked Harry’s lips one last time pushed herself up from him and walked out of the room.

Harry’s eyes never left her the entire time.  

“Harry, no, I’m going to tip over.”

When Harry had dropped YN at home last night, he had muttered the words that he would see her tomorrow. Before she could clarify that she wasn’t working, he had sped off on his motorcycle into the dark of the night. YN should have known, though, that Harry knew she wasn’t working. It became even more clear when Ashley shouted at her from the kitchen at around midday today, telling her that her Rider was waiting for her.

Instead of the annoyance that YN felt the first time, there was a skip in her step this time. She had taken some time that morning to make herself look that little bit more presentable and waited for him. After their kiss the previous night in the office, and the slight peck that he had given her when she had climbed off his bike yesterday.

When she had bounced over to him earlier, a smile beaming on his face she didn’t have a single care as to what she would be doing that day – all she knew was that she was going to enjoy it. Even when she climbed on the back of his bike and asked where they were going – the smile never left her face. He refused to tell her, though, saying that it was a surprise.

“Harry, I don’t want to,” YN shook her head, hands grasping tightly onto the handles of the bike, “I’m going to fall off, or I’m going to crash your bike.”

What Harry had planned for the girl was to teach her how to ride. Whilst at the start YN had wanted nothing more than to learn how to ride, now that she was sitting on Harry’s bike without him there – she was terrified. Harry was standing close to her, cigarette dangling from his lips and an amused expression on his face.

“You’re not going to fall,” Harry shakes his head, “I’m right here… and I promise I won’t let you crash.”

“You can say that Harry, but you can’t promise,” YN was sitting on the bike, with her feet resting on the ground and absolutely no attempt at all to move.

He threw his cigarette on the floor, moving over so that he could wrap his arms around her waist, his hands coming to rest upon hers on the handle. He turned the engine on, and even though it was YN’s hands on the handle, Harry was controlling it. They went very slow – they had to so that Harry could walk at the side of them.

“I’m going to let go,” Harry spoke after a minute or so, but YN shook her head.

“I’m not ready,” YN pushed her body into his slightly, “I’m going to crash.”

“There’s nothing for you to crash into,” Harry peels one of his hands off of hers, “I trust you… you’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t as though he was lying. Harry had driven them out to a deserted road just out of town. Close enough away that they’d be home at a normal time, but far enough away that there wasn’t any traffic which would interrupt them. There wasn’t anything but stone and grass around them, and whilst if YN came to a haphazard stop, it wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing ever – there wasn’t a lot of damage that she could do to Harry’s bike.

Harry let go of her other hand, and she was doing it. Granted, she didn’t go over 2mph, but she was still riding the bike on her own. She wasn’t comfortable enough to attempt to turn yet, so she just came to a slow stop a few metres further down from where Harry was. She kicked the stand down and climbed off the bike – turning towards Harry with a smile on her face.

“I did it!” She bounced over to Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck, his coming to rest around her waist.

“Never doubted you,” He leaned down to place a kiss on her lips, pulling her body flush against his. Before anything more could happen, the sound of crunching on the road, as well as the sound of a siren interrupted them.

YN’s heart started to beat rapidly at the sight of a police car inching towards them. Whilst YN had dealt with police before working in her previous bars, she hadn’t ever been out in the open with her and only one other person when talking to them. Knowing that Harry also ran a motorcycle gang added another level of worry to it.

Harry just pulled YN with him, going to rest against his bike. He looked completely unfazed, whilst YN truly was shitting in her boots slightly. The police car stopped right in front of them, and as the door swung open to the car, Harry lit up a cigarette and brought it up to his lips – again, making it aware that he was completely unfazed by what was happening.

“Styles,” The officer sighed, slamming his car door behind him shit as he walked towards the two of them, “You’re not an easy man to find.”

“Hmm,” Harry just hums, inhaling from his cigarette, “I had no idea you were even looking for me… I wouldn’t have just stood in the middle of the road if I knew.”

The officer chuckled, placing his hands on his hips, “We had reports last night that you attacked a man.”

Harry shook his head, “Couldn’t have been me.”

“It happened at your bar,” The officer took a step forward towards Harry, “Had reports that you hit him over the head with a beer bottle.”

Harry just chuckles, “Officer Thompson, I don’t have time for this he said she said bullshit. If you’ve got something to say to me, I think you should say it.”

The officer just hummed, “Where were you last night?”

“I was at the bar,” Harry nodded, “All night.”

YN started to panic from beside him, but she tried not to make it obvious. Harry must have complete and utter trust in his riders to not say anything to the police. It made sense now to YN as to why that man hadn’t been given a jacket. He had instigated the fight, and yet he had run straight to the police with it. He was a coward and a rat.

“Can anyone corroborate this?”

“I can,” YN was surprised at how strongly her voice came out, “I was there with him all night, I work there.”

The officer hums once more, his eyes dropping down to focus on Harry once more. YN realises that it’s then that the officer has spotted his bandaged hand. YN’s mind starts to spiral slightly, hoping that one of them will be able to come up with something quickly.

“What, uh,” The officer couldn’t hide the smile on his face, obviously thinking that he had found him out, “What happened to your hand, Styles?”

Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so YN interrupts. She giggles slightly, knowing exactly what type of character was going to be believable for this officer. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

“I’m so sorry, officer, that was my fault,” YN took a small step towards the officer, but not far enough that she wasn’t in arms reach of Harry, “See, I’m real clumsy. And yesterday, I dropped a whole crate of beer and Harry heard the crash, and he helped me clean up – unfortunately, he cut his hand in the process.”

The officer’s eyes moved between Harry and YN. There was no way at that point for YN to try and guess what he was thinking – or what he was going to say. Then, when the officer’s face broke out into a smile just the same as YN’s, she knew she had convinced him.

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss, and I hope you have a good rest of your day,” Then the officer turned to Harry, and the smile on his face dropped, “I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Styles.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to it Officer Thompson.”

Harry rested against his bike the entire time, whilst YN had her arms crossed against her chest. They didn’t say another word to each other until they watched the car turn around and drive away from them. It was only then that YN turned to Harry, who was running a hand over his face. Sighing, YN walked over to him, grabbing his hands (but making sure to be careful of his injured hand).

“You didn’t have to do that,” Harry shakes his head, pulling her hands up so that he can place a kiss on the back of them.

“I know,” YN nods, “But I wanted to.”

Harry rests his chin upon their connected hands, “I wanna take you somewhere.”

YN would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about where Harry lived once or twice because she had. He had been to her apartment a few times to pick her up, and whilst she hadn’t necessarily wanted to be that forward and ask him where he lived, there was a part of her which wondered about it.

It was a strange circumstance. Where does the leader of a gang live? Where does he rest his head at night? Where does make his coffee in the morning? Whilst YN wouldn’t necessarily admit it, she was an inquisitive person.  

When Harry’s bike came to a stop outside of a garage, one that seemingly had an apartment attached to the top of it – it all made sense. Yes, the bar had to be doing well, with how many people were in it daily. But there had to be another way that Harry was making money, and it seemed as though this was it. She wondered if this had anything to do with the shipments that the other man had been speaking about.

He kicked the standout and gave YN the space the climb off before he did. He walked over to the shutter, unlocked the padlock, and threw it open. The apartment didn’t look too big, but the shop itself was huge. She had expected a car, maybe a few bikes – but she hadn’t expected rows upon rows of bikes lining the side of the walls. In the middle, YN could see the different stations where Harry and some of the other members worked.

“Are these all yours?” YN asked, her finger reaching out to run across the glossy black exterior of one of the bikes closest to her.

“Most of them,” Harry shrugged, dropping the shutter closed behind the two of them after pushing his bike inside, “Me and a few others, we buy them and restore them, make them better to sell on.”

“God, Harry,” YN turns to him, an expression of what could only be described as amazement on her features, “This is amazing.”

He just offered her a small smile, taking small steps towards her until he was close enough to wrap his arms around her middle. YN giggled slightly, resting her head on Harry’s shoulder as he pulled her closer to him.

“Pick one.”

The features on YN’s lips dropped again, “What?”

“Pick one,” Harry repeated, “A bike.”

“Yeah, I gathered that, Harry, I’m just confused as to why.”

He just shrugged, leaning back against the workbench near the two of them. YN turned around so that she was facing him, and Harry at once pressed his hands against her waist. It was funny to YN, to see the big, scary, gang member was so soft around her, and they hadn’t necessarily known each other very long.

“You said it yourself,” He shrugged, his hands pulling her between her body between his open legs, “If you’re gonna be a rider, you’ve got to ride. Seems like you need a bike to do that.”

“Yeah, but I’ll buy one,” YN spoke, as though it was the most obvious thing in the word, “When I have the cash for it.”

Harry shook his head, “No need, rather have you on one of these. Tested them myself, they’re all safe.”

YN just shook her head, propelling her body even further forward so that she could wrap her arms around Harry’s neck and press her lips against his. It was a clumsy kiss, with both of their teeth clashing and smiles upon their features but they did not care.

“Thank you,” She mumbled against his lips, pressing a flurry of chaste kisses to them afterwards.

Harry shook his head, “No need – pick one, baby.”

YN pushed her body up and started to walk up and down the rows of bikes until she spotted it. It was about halfway down the row, a bike with dark green glossy accents, looking nothing but sleek with the dark metal of the engine. It was the one that she wanted, and the second she was standing in front of it she knew it was hers. With that beaming smile across her features, YN turned and launched herself at Harry, wrapping her legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on the plump skin of her arse over her dark denim jeans. Even though YN suspected that she had caught him off guard, he didn’t show it on his face.

“How can I ever thank you?” She asked between a litter of kisses to his lips, a boyish smile crossing his features afterwards that YN wants nothing more than to bottle up and remember forever.

“That smile of yours is enough,” Harry nods at her, pressing another full kiss to her lips.

YN tilts her head to the side, turning to look at Harry with a slight smirk crossing her features. His eyebrows furrowed as though he already suspected she was coming up with something in her head.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Maybe…” YN starts, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip, hesitating, “Maybe there’s another way I can thank you.”

Harry’s eyes widened, as though he was finally catching on to the thoughts swimming around in YN’s head.

“We don’t have to,” Harry shakes his head quickly. “I promise I’m not expecting anything from you.”

YN just shakes her head, leaning forward to place another kiss on his lips. Her hands tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I know you’re not,” YN offers him a smile, “I want to. I promise.”

Harry shook his head, a groan emitting from his lips as he tugged her even closer to him if that was possible. YN giggles at his obvious joy at her statement.

“God,” He rests his forehead against hers, “I know it’s wrong, but I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

Harry turns, as though he’s going to walk out of the garage, but YN stops him. He furrows his eyebrows at her, and she just giggles once more.

“Want it here.”

“What?”

“Want it here, want you on the bench,” Harry groans once more, moving to drop her down upon the workbench that he had been rested upon earlier.

“Are you sure I haven’t dreamt you up?”

“Nope,” YN shakes her head, “I’m real.”

YN threads her fingers back through the curls at the nape of his neck, bringing his face back to hers. It doesn’t take long for their lips to connect once more. It wasn’t sweet or light. It was rough, as though both of them were finally able to do what they had both been thinking about.

Harry’s hands start to move down her body, resting on the hem of her jeans. She can feel his thumbs pressing down into the skin of her waist, and when it registers in her brain what he was trying to do YN pulls away, shaking her head.

“Not yet,” She lightly pushes his body to the side so that she can jump off the bench, “I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“You don’t have to,” YN’s hands rest on the lapels of his jacket, waiting for his nod before she pushes it off his shoulders.

“I want to.”

It takes just one swipe for Harry to pull his shirt over his head whilst YN’s hands come to rest upon his belt buckle. YN’s eyes widen at the sight of his exposed chest, as well as the tattoos that litter his sin. YN knew that Harry had tattoos; she had seen the ones on his arms multiple times, but it felt different to see the ones on his chest.

Her fingers work quickly to pull Harry’s belt buckle open, working on the button and zip of his jeans next. YN drops down to her knees, pushing Harry back slightly so that he’s resting against the workbench. Harry peers down at her, his chest heaving up and down in anticipation. Her hand rests upon the grey material of his boxers, palming his already semi-hard cock through the light material.

“You like teasing?”

YN shrugs lightly, “I have no clue what you mean.”

Harry laughs, watching her intently as her fingers loop into the band of his boxers, pulling them down to expose him to her. YN finds herself unable to pull her eyes away from his cock. She knew it had to be big from palming him through his boxers but seeing it before she made her mouth water and pressure to build in the pit of her stomach.

She placed a light kiss on his tip, which was already red and leaking from his obvious arousal. YN smiled, giving it a lick from the base to the tip before she used her hand to give it a few tugs. YN was confident in her moves, even though she had only done it a few times before in her life. She gained more confidence from the moans leaving Harry’s lips; they were deep and quiet, but she could hear them, and they caused her to squeeze her thighs together in hopes that it would give her some relief.

“YN… please,” It almost sounded as though he was pleading with her to do something, and YN almost moaned at the sound.

YN wraps her lips around the tip of Harry’s cock, beginning to bob her head up and down. One of her hands rested upon his thigh, whilst the other wrapped around the base of his cock, helping her with what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. Her tongue lightly grazed his tip, earning a louder moan from Harry that egged her on further.

“Fuck… YN.”

Harry’s hands came to rest in her hair, helping her to move her head up and down his cock. It was a light tug that caused YN to moan around his cock, and she could feel Harry resisting from bucking his hips to meet her. Instead, she continued to bob her head, speeding up in hopes that it would help him recover from her teasing.

“YN gotta pull away,” Harry says after a minute or so, his grip on her hair tightening, “I’m gonna cum.”

YN doesn’t stop, however, instead, she keeps going until she hears him moan louder and start to cum down her throat. When she looks up at him, his head is thrown back, and his eyes are closed. She works her head up and down until he’s finished, only pulling away then. When she looks back up at him he has a look in his eyes that makes her assume that they aren’t done.

YN giggles as he puts his hands on her waist and pulls her up so she’s standing, immediately placing a kiss on her lips, seemingly not caring about the fact that his cum was on them. YN’s legs nearly gave out then and there, and she had to place her hands on his biceps to steady herself.

“Did that show my thanks?” She asked, tilting her head to the side innocently.

Harry wraps his arms around her thighs once more, picking her up effortlessly.

“Damn right, it did,” Harry starts to walk over to the door that she suspects goes into the house, “But I’m not done with you yet.”

It was quiet at Clover’s, a lull mid-afternoon on a Friday before everyone picked their spots for the night. YN had spent an hour or so cleaning and drying the glasses that had been used earlier in the day, making sure that they were to have enough for the night ahead.

The repeated motion of washing and drying gave her time to think, and more often than not, she found herself daydreaming about her morning, which she had spent in Harry’s bed, wrapped up in his arms. The two of them had been pretty inseparable before, but after he had gifted her the bike, it had seemingly gotten even worse, if that was possible. It had been weeks since that day, and YN could probably count on one hand the nights she had spent alone since then. Harry waited every night for her after work, and even when he couldn’t she would return to his house and wait for him there.

They hadn’t spoken about what they were necessarily, but that didn’t matter to YN. She didn’t need a label to know how she felt about Harry, and she assumed Harry felt about her also. For the first time in a long time YN was happy, and even though she was only a bartender and that useless history degree of hers wasn’t doing much – she wasn’t yearning for something else, for something better. YN truly felt as though it couldn’t get any better than it currently was.

The door to the bar pushed open, and whilst YN thought it was probably a rider coming in for a drink, she was shocked to see that it was Mick, obviously dropping in to start his shift. Thankfully, since YN had taken the day shift she didn’t have to stay until close tonight, meaning that she could spend more time in bed with Harry to end her week.

“Hey, YN,” She offered Mick a smile, “Just lemme drop my shit in the back and then you can go on break.”

“Thanks, Mick.”

Once he was back out, and she had passed over what she was doing to him, she made her way outside with the sandwich that Harry had made for her earlier. She was going to make her lunch, but Harry insisted that he make it for her. YN smiled at the memory of her sitting upon his kitchen counter, clad only in one of his t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. They had laughed and joked and, at one point, had a break to dance around the kitchen to the song that was playing over the radio.

YN hadn’t had many relationships before, two at most she could think of, but they were never like this. They always felt transactional to YN. But with Harry, it truly felt as though they were two halves. There was a level of domesticity that YN loved more than anything with him, and every little task that they did together meant so much.

Once YN had eaten her sandwich, her thoughts filled with Harry and their morning. YN pulled her legs underneath her and began to read her book, knowing that she could get a chapter or so read before her break was over. It was a book about the Tudors she was reading, something that had been a passion of hers during her degree. It had been a while since she had read anything, but she supposed that the want came from her peace and happiness being restored.

She had just finished a chapter on Henry VIII’s Economic policy when she heard noise from the front of the bar. It was loud, and the voices that were speaking were quick, but it was muffled, so she couldn’t quite decipher what was being said. Putting her bookmark into place and closing the book, she pushed up from the chair and made her way towards the bar.

Mick was standing there, with three or four others in front of him. They looked panicked, and their words reflected that.

“Tell me again,” Mick placed his hands down on the counter, “I can’t tell a word you’re saying when you’re talking that quickly.”

“An accident, Mick,” It was Taylor who spoke, “There was an accident. We were riding along, and this truck came outta nowhere, sent him flying.”

YN moved towards them, her heart immediately starting to thump within her chest.

“Who?” Her words came out quickly, all of the men’s heads turning towards her, “Who went flying?”

“YN… I…” Taylor took a step towards her, his entire face dropping.

That was when she knew.

Her palms started to sweat, and her body felt heavy. There was a dizziness inside her head, and for one second she thought that she was going to fall to ground.

It was Harry.

“Where is he?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, the tears finally starting to collect within her waterline.

“YN…” Mick started.

“No, Mick,” She shook her head, “Where is he? Tell me where he is!”

Taylor took another step closer towards her, “I don’t know. The woman in the store across the street from where it happened phoned an ambulance, I left before they came. If I hazard a guess, they’ll be on their way to the hospital by now.”

YN nodded and before she knew it she was stalking her way outside and towards her bike. Ignoring the tears that were clouding her vision she climbed upon. Just as she was about to start it, a hand touched her elbow. It was Mick. She almost broke down crying there and then.

“Don’t,” Mick shook his head, “You can’t drive like that, darlin’. Let Taylor take you. Please.”

“He has to be okay,” YN shook her head, the sobs starting to wrack through her body.

Mick nodded, helping her off the bike, “He will be. But, if you wanna get there safely, in one piece let the boys take you.”

YN nods, walking over to Taylor’s bike and hopping on behind him. Mick gave her hand one last squeeze.

“Send him my love, okay?” Mick spoke and YN nodded, not trusting herself to be able to reply in that moment.

Taylor started the engine, and before she knew anything, they were hurtling down the street. This time, though, she wasn’t thinking about the wind in her hair.

[anon-sect]

Anonymous story request

Walter was sort of in a rut in life. He was in his late thirties with no plans. It was frustrating that he had found himself in this perdcament. He didn't necessarily want to start over at his current age, but he honestly saw no other way.

One day, while Walter was sitting in the park contemplating his next move, a stranger sat next to him on the park bench. He looked up at the averave size stranger who looked to be in his late fifties. "Can I help you, sir?" He asked, confused why the guy would sit next to him out of the sudden.

Uriah looked at Walter. "I am here to help you, actually. You want a fresh start, and I can give that to you." He spoke, getting straight to the point.

Walter thought it was some kind of prank being played on him. "Please, I don't need any humorous pranks right now." He replied back, hoping the guy would leave.

"I assure you, this is no prank, Walter. I am here to give you a fresh and permanent start. Just shake my hand and you will have a new start in life. Just beware, it will be permanent." Uriah spoke, presenting his hand to shake.

Walter didn't know how the stranger knew his name without telling him. He didn't even know if the guy was even legit able to do what he says he could do. Yet, he wanted to be rid of the stranger at the same time. He reached and shook his hand. Suddenly, the stranger was gone as though he wasn't even there. It was confusing. He decided to go back home to take a nap.

Several hours later, Walter woke up feeling strange. He couldn't move or speak. He felt attached to something, just didn't know what. He could feel the heat of the sun beating against him through some type of fabric. After several minutes of getting himself use to his surroundings, he discovered he was attached to some young guy in his mid twenties named Jason. The attached part he soon discovered when Jason went to the bathroom. Hot piss came pouring out of his mouth into the urinal. The piss tasted disgusting. He knew exactly what he was. He was a cock on a young guy. The fact that the guy was completely unaware that his cock was alive made this new existence totally different.

Walter realized the hand shake with the stranger in the park was real. He had a new start in life, completely unaware by his current owner. The stranger was gone since that time in the park, but he also realized this new life was permanent. He could never go back to his old life ever again. Then, he really didn't want to either. He accepted being a cock on the Jason's body.

SIX YEARS LATER......

Walter never got the stranger's name, but he wished he could thank him. Being turned into Jason's cock was just the new start he needed. He had been with his owner for six years now. He saw his owner go from guy to guy, trying to find the right person for him. In that process, a lot of mouths had sucked on him, and he was shoved into a lot of asses. Just a year ago, Jason finally found the right guy for him. He had a hot boyfriend just a few years older than thim. They moved in together a few months after dating. He experienced a lot of hot sex between Jason and his boyfriend.

Walter loved his new life. He got to see all the ups and downs his owner went through. He really became just as attached to Jason as much as he was his cock. He sometimes wish he could tell his owner how much he really loved his life, but cocks can't talk. At least he gets to grow old with his owner and enjoy all the moments of his life. Yes, being cock definitely was different for hin, but it was way better than his old life.

[onlymexsarah]

Burning Flames V || Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: Eris thinking important stuff, Eris being Eris, probably grammar mistakes and my english. A/n: I’M SO SORRY FOR THE WAITING. I had a writer’s block and i didn’t want to write anything that would disappoint you. I hope you’re gonna like this, let me know if you want to be added at the taglist🫶🏻 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

As soon as you all arrived at the River House the mood lightened up. It was time to truly celebrate the Winter Solstice, and Feyre's birthday.

You were all in the sitting room, and when you said all you meant all. Even Nesta and Lucien were there, throught you thought that the presence of the latter was not entirely because his fondness to the Inner Circle.

You took a moment to look around you and letting the sight sink. They were all happy, everyone was talking about something and everyone had a smile on their faces. It was refreshing being in such a familiar occasion, but somehow you couldn't help but feel a bit of melancholy.

Feyre had found a beautiful family. Not perfect, because no one was perfect, but she had found people who loved her and would do anything for her. They would do anything for each other, and even if being Feyre's sister made you part of the group you knew you would never be more than that: Feyre's sister.

You had no special bond with anyone. Only Rhysand and Mor had taken interest in developing a relationship with you, but as you watched them talk with Cassian and Azriel you knew that you could never compare with that. The Winter Solstice was the night for wishes, and you deeply wished to find a family like that one day.

When the time of gifts arrived you were excited. When your family had fallen into poverty there was no money for gifts, so you had spent your birthdays and the holydays as normal days.

You had found out that you loved making gifts. It had something magical the whole searching the right things for everyone and find it. The one yuo were proudest was an enchated satchel for Nesta, where she could put every book she wanted and bring it with her weightless.

You had received gifts from almost everyone. but it was when Mor handed you a box wrapped with expensive, sparkling red silk that your heart skipped a beat. "I think someone is quiet fascinated by you after only few dances." said Mor smugly and she read from who it was from.

You tried to steady your hands and you took the gift and read the little note that was attached to it.

"A reminder that flames are the apotheosis of beauty if shaped by the right person. Happy Solstice, Eris."

You slowly unwrapped the delicate silk and opened the box. Your eyes widened as you caught what was inside. Everyone's attention was on you as you took the glass case that was inside the box and hold it in your hand in front of your face.

You felt everyone's breath stopping as you stared at the beautiful rose made of fire that burned inside the glass.

The glass was warm, and the fire was perfectly shaped as a rose, forever burning on its own. Something inside you flickered, something gold, soft that a moment before was not there. You didn't know what to say as every word disappeared from your mind. It was breathtaking. The beauty of it could not be compared to anything else you had ever seen.

"At least he has good taste for gifts." Mor commented crossing her arms.

You put the glass case on the table in front of you and quickly looked away from it, giving a Mor a tight smile. "What? Having second thoughts?" you said ironically to her, needing to change subject.

She snorted. "Hardly."

"Let's just appreaciate the kind gesture." Rhysand said with an amused smile. "Thanks to you we have his alliance back, let's celebrate that."

It didn't go unnotice to you your sister's tight expression. From the way she looked at Rhysand and the smile he gave her you were sure they were having a mental conversation, about what you didn't know.

The night passed smoothly, there had been no other awkward gifts thankfully. At some point your eyes threatened to close on their own so you excused yourself and went into your room.

You put the rose on the vanity in your room, and for a moment stared at it like it could explode. If Eris wanted to mess with your head then he was doing a great job.

You scoffed, fuck you Eris.

You swear you heard his low laugh deep inside you.

***

When a letter in red paper came for you with only a place and a time written on it you stormed into Rhysand's office, guilt eating you alive. You opened the door without so much as knocking, and told him everything.

You told him how Eris saved you during the war, how you had cured him because yes your power didn't go away but "my sisters lied too so you can't be angry at me". You showed him your hands and arms. You told him that Eris knew about your power but never said anything or threated you, and in the end you told him about the bargain you made.

"You were letting yourself burning from the inside out because you were scared to hurt someone?" Rhysand's voice was not in any way angry, actually he seemed more concerned.

You shrugged, your eyes fell on the ground feeling his heavy gaze on you. "You were all so happy after the war. My sisters still needed me and I didn't want to ruin anyone's happiness with this problem. I would have figured out something, eventually."

Rhysand stared at you silently, a mischievious spark in his violet eyes. "And you thought that making a bargain with Eris was the solution?"

His question wasn't accusatory. It sounded like Rhysand was curious about your maddness, and honestly you were too. There was no right answer to make it sound reasonable, so you gave him part of the truth.

"When he chose me to dance the responsability to keep him as an ally had fallen on me, and unfortunately I couldn't seduce him like Nesta would have done." You shrugged. "Cassian was right, Eris seems to enjoy to annoy me. When he proposed to train me I took it as my chance to keep him close to the Night Court and keep him close as an ally."

"And are you comfortable with this...arrangement?" Rhysand asked you carefully.

You noticed how his reaction had been completely different from what you had expected. You thought that he would look at you like the stupid girl you felt, almost pitying you for talking about Eris like he was not a monster. Instead, Rhysand had just listened, nodded and gave you an encouraging smile.

"Yeah, I'll need one of you to winnow me where we'll meet, but I would prefer if you tell no one but Feyre and Azriel." You said and saw in Rhysand's eyes that he understood the double meaning of your words:

"I don't want Mor to find out, for now."

"It can be easily arranged, but since you'll start to spend time on your own around Prythian I must ask you to start training with Cassian and Azriel whenever you can." he said kindly sitting on the chair behind his desk.

You tilted your head with a grin. "Are you asking as my High Lord or as a worried friend?"

"What about as a brother?" he matched your grin. "An overbearing one, as Feyre calls me."

You chuckled. "I'll start training with them tomorrow."

***

"Your brooding silence is louder than Nesta and Cassian during Winter Solstice." You snorted watching with almost disgust all the flowers around you. The border between the Spring's court and the Summer's court was a explosion of yellow, pink, orange and purple. All colours that made your eyes almost hurt.

You felt Azriel's death glare on your back as you pointly avoided his eyes. "I still have to understand why Rhys think letting you be alone with him is a good idea."

"Because Rhysand would be a hypocrite to deny me of this lovely bargain." An amused, deep voice said behind you making your toes curling in your shoes.

You turned around and saw Azriel watching Eris like he was imaginaing stabbing him, and somehow you knew you were right. "I'll stay with you." said the shadowsinger as if Eris' presence just reminded him how a bad idea that was.

"Tempting, but I'm not usually one who like to share." Said Eris with a cocky grin before looking at you. "Unless the lady wants to."

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms. It was annoying how most of the times you didn't know if Eris was flirting with you or trying to rile you up.

"Go Az." You looked at the shadowsinger with a kind smile. "I'll be fine."

"I'll be back in few hours." Azriel said to you before winnowing away, giving Eris one last warning look.

You watched for a few seconds the place where Azriel had been standing and took a deep breath. "Over the centuries I forgot how dramatic he could be."

You snapped your eyes on Eris, making a good effort to not notice how his green outfit made his eyes look of an impossible shade of emerald.

"He just doesn't trust you." you said ironically. "I wonder why."

Eris gave you a feline grin before offering you his arm. "There is a lake near by, shall we?"

You studied his arm with wary eyes. Inside you there were two sides that were fighting each other. The first one wanted to give him the chance that no one ever did, to trust him and gain his trust back, to get to know the Eris that if you tried hard you could see under his mask; the other part was yelling at you to not be stupid, that if the Inner Circle didn't trust him after five centuries there were very good reasons, and the worst part was that you knew most of them, and still it wasn't enough to make you feel even a hint of disgust.

So you had to pretend.

"Let's just get started." you hoped that your cold mask was at least half good as his as you walked past him toward the lake, ignoring his low chuckle.

***

From your sister's story of her training you had expected everything but this.

Eris had made you sat right in front of the lake with your leg crossed, your back straight and your eyes closed while he did the same beside you and gave you instruction with his voice.

He had told you to focus on your breathing while you had to map the environment around you just with your hearing. Was it even possible?

Spoiler: no.

Everytime you heard a sound your mind would wander around with random thoughts that become a deep dive inside your head. The birds over you reminded you of the days that your father used to bring you around the forest close to your old estate. Who knew who lived there now? Maybe the humans had chosen to let it fall to ruin after what happened to them. Maybe they would think it was cursed.

That's it. You had forgotten to calm your breathing. Again.

"Awknowledge the thoughts that came into your mind and let them go." Eris' voice vibrated right inside you making you shift slightly on your place.

"I thought you were going to teach me how to control my power, not how to control my breathing." You scoffed.

"Who said anything about training your power in the bargain?" He said almost bored.

Your eyes snapped open and you looked at him incredulous. He was smirking. That bastard was smirking and you wanted nothing more than to slap that grin away from his face.

"If you do not train me I could easily lose control and burn everything around us to ashes." You said slowly, angry that he thought he could trick you. "And you with it."

Eris opened his eyes, his grin only grew wider as he looked at you. "Oh, but that would be quite the sight." You clenched your jaw as your skin started to pinch with heat. He gave you an amused look before closing his eyes again and taking a deep breath. "Relax, Little Flame. We need to make you burst out that mass of power that you had been foolishly sealed inside you, but I won't make you do it until I know it's not completely safe for you."

"And completely safe for this place." You added while you fought the blush that was growing on your cheeks at the thought that Eris had just said that he wanted you safe.

You saw him shrugging, his eyes remained shut. "Helion wouldn't mind a little renovation." You scoffed rolling your eyes. How could he be so calm? You had expected to learn how to control your fire, and instead you were struggling to control even your breathing. "Believe it or not, but I'm trying to help you. Close your eyes."

His firm tone made you ashamedly tightening your thighs. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent you from doing something stupid, like talk back and made him use that tone again.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the heat that was starting to grow at the pit of your stomach, which you were sure wasn't due your flames.

"You were born human, but no one taught you how to be a High Fae when the cauldron Made you. Your body is stronger, faster. Your sight, hearing, and nose are sharper." Eris' explanation hit something very precise inside you. It was true, no one had ever stopped to explain to you how to use those new abilities. And it was fine, you had never really asked, knowing that as the older sister you should have to figure it out on your own. "We are at the border between Summer and Spring, with only your nose you should be able to tell where the border exactly is, but lets start easy. Use all your senses but the sight."

His calm and warm voice made it sound simple, and you believed him. It wasn't a even-a-child-can-do-it type of simple, it was more like a your-body-can-naturally-do-that type of simple.

You spent another hour like that, and by the end of it you were smiling broadly. You had successfully used all your new senses, and you were mesmerized by Eris' patience. Not once he had rushed you or had seemed to be tired.

"You're smiling." your head snapped toward him and you couldn't help the look of surprise that grew on your face. "You've never smiled like that when I was around."

You watched him with a hint of michievous in your eyes. As soon as you had successfully told him where the border was he had instructed you to stand in front of the lake and try to smell the animals around you. "You've never been silent around me before."

Eris laughed. The redhead in front of you, the Heir of Autumn, the General of the Autumn Court's army actually laughed and didn't incinerated you for your words.

It was an awful lie what you had said. His voice was probably the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, and you wondered if he laughed because he knew that deep down.

Cauldron, I hope not.

"Tell me if you sense some creatures in the lake." Eris smirked crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll gift you with more silence in the meantime."

You playfully rolled your eyes and took a step closer to the lake.

Deep breath.

Empty mind.

Eyes closed.

You felt the bird above you, the deers at your left, deep in the Summer's forest and even the rabbits beyond the Spring's border. But nothing came from the lake in front of you. Confused you opened your eyes and tried to catch some glimps of fishes or other creatures.

"Nothing." You said tilting your head a bit confused. "I don't think there is something in this lake."

"Good." Eris grinned michievously. "Then put your hands in the water and let your fire out."

You felt your eyebrows hitting your hairline as you widened your eyes and looked at him incredulous. "I am absolutely not."

"You absolutely are." he quickly remarked.

"What if there are fishes in there? I cannot kill them." You gestured to the pool of water in front of you, trying to understand what he intented.

"You said there is nothing in there." He shrugged becoming serious. "You need to start trusting your senses. There might still be days where you need to let your power out and you'll need to scan the area quickly to make sure no one is around."

His words carried something too personal for you to let them go. Was he speaking for personal experience? You wanted to talk back, you wanted to ask him if there were creatures in the lake, but something inside you stirred.

Eris might be the only one who could understand you, who knew what you were going through. He was the oldest son of Beron, you wondered what kind of pressures he had to live with. You wondered if he too had to learn how to use his fire beside a lake to not hurt anyone.

You slowly crounched on your feet and even slower took your gloves away. The burned flesh on your hands were red with remains of the green sticky cream that Madja had given you. The cold water send shivers of pure relief through all your body.

"You want me to light a fire under water..." You said skeptical looking at Eris over your shoulder.

"Darling, I'm positive your power could light a fire at the bottom of the ocean, if wield properly." You looked away from his lazy grin as your stomach twisted at his new nickname.

Water or not water you had to understand now how to call the fire at you. For weeks the flames had been burning all your body no-stop, you just needed to focus them in your hands.

"I do not suppose to know you, but I might guess that your power usually answer to your anger." he was standing behind you like you hadn't a burning fire inside you ready to explode, like you weren't a danger for him. "Focus that sweet mind of yours toward what anger you most."

You.

The answer was quick in your mind.

Eris Vanserra had the ability to make you angry with just a look, and there were so many reasons that you couldn't focus on just one. It made you angry when he used his mocking tone with you. It made you angry when he used a gentle tone with you. It made you angry when he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, and it made you angry when he avoided your gaze in a room full of people.

It made you angry knowing what he did to Mor. It made you angry that there were times when you didn't care. It made you angry that you thought that the male in front of you could never do shuch thing. It had made you angry that he had saved you. But you were even angrier when he hadn't seek you out after the battle.

Eris Vanserra made you angry because he didn't make you angry at all. He made you feel frustrated, amused, annoyed, flustered and seen, and you were angry because you shouldn't feel those things. Not with him.

You felt it then. You felt hot flames rising from your skin and you imagined that the water in front of you were your feelings, and they needed to burn. So, they burnt.

Bright, red fire appeared underwater around your hands and the water in front of you started to boil. You let it all out. Every flame you had pushed down in those months was now left free.

It felt so good to finally let it go. The flames were circling all your arms, from your shoulders down your elbows and to your hands. You had missed the warmt that came from inside your body, the ethernal sensation that no cold could ever touch your skin, never again.

***

Eris had never known an enchanting sight as the one he had in front of him now. Your flames were all around you while from the lake it was rising a cloud of steam that soon enough would catch someone's attention.

He felt your rage through the bond and everything you had kept inside. The steam of power that you were letting out was huge, destructive, beautiful.

He watched silently as your fire stopped and you let yourself fall back, sitting on the burned grass and staring the water with emotionless eyes. He dared to tuck softly the bond, trying to understand what you were feeling, then you laughed, and something gold flickered inside him at that sound.

It was a laugh that could make him burn courts to the ground for the chance to hear it again. It was the laugh that at some point he had dreamed while Under the Montain. It was the laugh of hope that no matter if people like Amarantha, Beron or the King of Hybern ruled merciless, there were still people with enough strenght to laugh.

"I've never felt so free in a long time." you almost whispered to yourself. You stared at your hands and Eris let out a sigh of relief as he saw that the skin was completely healed.

He saw as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes tilting your head back toward the sky, and Eris felt the need to make you stop looking so fucking perfect while he had no right to enjoy this view.

He cleared his throat bringing his hands behind his back. "Can I dare to ask what or who you were thinking? I wouldn't want to find myself in the middle of the two of you."

You gave him a indecipherable look. "Cassian's habit to steal my breakfast."

Eris didn't hold the scoff that escaped his lips. It was clearly a lie, but he understood that. He was no one for you, there was no reason for you to trust him with your thoughts, so he didn't push, even if his stomach twisted in a payinful knot.

He smelled a light scent far behind him, and he knew that was time for you to return back at home. "We should go back before the shadowsinger cut my throat."

He turned around, needing to stop that moment before he started to believe things that couldn't be true. Not yet.

"Wait." your voice stopped him and he curiously turned around to look at you as you stood up and brushed of the grass from your dress. You walked closer to him with a steady look that made him equally unsteady. "It's time for my part of the bargain. My question."

He rose slightly his eyebrows, surprised by your sudden determination. "Go ahead."

He saw as you tried to organize your thoughts, crossing your arms as to make you more secure of yourself. "Is this side of yours part of the mask?"

Eris tilted his head, a bit confused by your question. "This side?" What were you seeing in him? What did he let slip?

"Yes, this side." You gestured with your hands at his whole person. "You, helping me and not being a total arrogant. You always make sure to make the others doubt your intentions, to doubt you. While...while the one I have in front of me is not the same male I heard the others talk about."

Eris stood there for a moment, looking into your eyes. He heard steps behind him approach, steps of someone who usually doesn't want to be heard. He slowly reached out a hand, and tuck some hair behind your ear and he smirked as he heard your breath caucht in your throat.

"Maybe I'm just manipulating you." He whispered, knowing he had few more seconds to play with you. If he couldn't have you for himself, he at least could have those reactions from you. "Maybe I want you to think I'm the good guy to use you against your precious Inner Circle. It would be quite the revenge."

"You are not moved out of revenge." Your response left him speechless for a moment. "If you wanted revenge then half of Prythian would be death."

"I could convince you to kill them for me." he stated back. He had let his hand lingering behind your ear, and now he let it slowly trace down the curve of your neck.

You breath had become clearly shorter, he could feel your heart beating through your chest, but your face betrayed nothing. He could see something flicker in your eyes, the only thing you couldn't control, but the look you were giving him was caution.

It was a game now, seeing how far he needed to go to convince you he was indeed the bad guy. Not to you. Never to you. But to everyone else. He wasn't above killing to gain what he wanted. He had lied, killed, manipulated and swore false oath to ensure the security of his people, but for you? He would kill with his bare hands an entire court to give you a throne, and it terried him.

"I told you, I won't kill for you." your voice snapped him back from his mind. You grabbed his wrist with your hand, fingers still hot with fire, and shoved it away from your neck. "You didn’t-“

“It’s time to go.” A voice cold as death stopped you in mid sentence.

Eris didn’t acknowledge the shadowsinger behind him, keeping his eyes on you. “But we were having so much fun.”

“Step away from her.” Your eyes snapped on Azriel and something twisted inside Eris as he watched you smiling at the shadowsinger and walking toward him.

Will he ever be the one receiving that smile? Will you ever walk toward him that happily?

He watched as you took Azriel’s arm and the shadows started to grow around you, ready to winnow away.

“Little flame.” Eris called after you. Your eyes found his over the wall of shadows that was forming around you. It was time for the answer, he guessed. “No, it’s not.”

Your eyes widened, and it was a pity, seriously, that he couldn’t see the rest of your face before you disappeared, because he knew it would be hilarious.

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world@sourapplex @ghostwritermia @asteria33 @pinklemonade34 @tell-me-a-poem @speedypersonawhispers @historygeekqueen @webvics @paliketerson @lizzytish82 @tincanhat @marrass @acourtofmoonlightandstars @yasmin-oviedo @ghostwritermia @marly500

[stellamarielu]

mr. o'hara

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: in an attempt to play wing woman for your best friend, you end up with the job of distracting her father. your inability to lie and the sexual tension between you has your mouth getting into trouble in more ways than one.

content: nsfw, 18+, best friend's dad smut, mutual pining, age gap, dirty talk, blowjob, praise, thigh riding, fingering, unprotected sex, did i mention dirty talk?

author's note: nothing but 6k words of mutual pining, flirting, sexual tension and smut! I think best friend's dad!declan might just be my favorite thing to write. like taggie girl I am so sorry but I need to fuck your dad.

—————————————————

The night was coming to an end as you joined Taggie in the kitchen. You were helping her clean the massive pile of dishes that had accumulated from an evening of dinner and drinks with the venturer employees. 

Declan had somehow ended up hosting the dinner party for his company, filling the priory with music, laughter and loads of alcohol. The celebration of their newfound success was almost completely organized by his eldest daughter.

You insisted on helping Taggie with arranging the event because you knew without Maud, Declan was sure to throw a sad excuse of a party. He was thankful for the two of you and your incessant need to meddle in his life after his wife left. In this case, it meant he wouldn’t have to plan a dinner menu or worry about a guest list, and for that, he was eternally grateful. 

“Thank you again, I really couldn’t have done it without you.” Taggie was pulling you into her side as you worked next to her, scrubbing a plate in the sink. 

“Oh whatever, I barely did anything. I’m only here for the free food.” You joked, returning her embrace.

The two of you were interrupted by a deep sultry voice gushing from the doorway of the kitchen. 

“That’s the only reason I show up to these things as well.”

You didn’t even need to look over your shoulder to know who the voice belonged to. 

Rupert Campbell-Black was behind you. Clad in a perfectly fitted black suit and a white button up that was undone just enough to see the smallest bit of chest hair peeking out from underneath. he stood with that signature smirk he always wore plastered on his face. 

You could feel Taggie buzzing beside you.

It was endearing how utterly obsessed with each other they were.

You were the only person who knew about their secret romance, and you had to admit it made even you feel like a hopeless romantic. It was nearly impossible not to root for them. 

“I thought maybe you could walk me home.” His voice was tender as he took a number of steps forward, one of his hands landing on Taggie’s hip.

“Have you gone insane? Daddy would lose his mind if he found out I just waltzed out of here with you.” Her voice was filled with concern as she swatted his touch from her body.

“Taggie, c’mon. Are we really supposed to follow your dad’s orders for the rest of eternity? Live a little. I’ll deal with ‘daddy’ tomorrow.” 

You could see Rupert’s silk voice enveloping Taggie and tempting her deeper into the British man’s desires, but it wasn’t enough.

You knew her well, and a look of worry was still written on her features. She wouldn’t take what she wanted if it meant going against her father’s wishes.

“I’ll keep him distracted.” You spoke up causing both Rupert and Taggie to look to you in surprise. 

The truth is you felt bad for them. 

Having to tiptoe around Declan all the time had to be exhausting. Not to mention Taggie recently confided in you about her lack of a sex life. Her and Rupert had barely done more than some kissing and heavy petting due to the impossible challenge of getting somewhere alone together.

She longed for him, to know what it felt like to be touched by him. She was your best friend, and you owed it to her to be their wing woman. 

“I mean he’s had a few glasses of whiskey, two or three more and I can just sit him in front of the tv. he’ll probably just knock out.” You give the pair a reassuring smile as you divulge your plan to keep the nosey irishman out of their way. 

“Are you sure? I-“ Taggie begins before you interrupt her.

“Yes, now go. Sneak out the back.” You’re practically pushing them out of the kitchen catching the apologetic smile Taggie throws your way.

You hear the faint shut of the back door and you allow your body to linger in the kitchen.

standing alone for a few seconds, you soak in the calm. The home is nearly empty. It’s quiet, the only sound is the subtle murmur of music coming from the living room.

You were alone in the house with Declan.

Declan O’Hara; Taggie’s dad and part-time owner of a thriving televison station. Declan O’Hara; a powerful, somewhat mysterious man, that drew your attention more often than you would have liked to admit. 

He was so mesmerizing, everything about him intrigued you. Your hidden fascination with him had been impossible to deny from the moment you met him, and it had become quite the guilty pleasure. 

You planned to take your little crush on your best friend’s dad to the grave with you, never telling a soul and trying to remain as nonchalant around him as possible. It was always doable– pretending you felt nothing for him. Until his wife left a few months ago. 

Ever since then your obsession with him had been kicked into full gear.

He was just so obviously available; it was almost as if you felt the need to fill his loneliness deep within your bones. Seeing how he poured into work to distract himself from solitude or when he would sleep on the couch to avoid the bedroom he once shared with his ex-wife. It was heartbreaking, and a little bit tempting if you were being honest. You wanted to help him and comfort him and maybe even fuck the loneliness right out of him.

You had assured Taggie that you could distract her father, but truthfully you had no idea what your plan was.

It couldn’t be that hard right? Feed him some more alcohol and get him talking about Yeats, you could do this.

You mustered up all the courage you could manage and began your journey into the living room. 

Declan was picking up after the guests that had now long departed. Gathering empty glasses and straightening throw pillows. The radio on the mantle was playing a Fleetwood mac song that he could barely recognize yet still found himself humming along to.

In his quiet tidying his silent singing was joined with another, this hum was several octaves higher than his own and so much sweeter.

He turned to find you strolling through the entryway, humming along to the radio and finding a seat on the couch in the middle of the room. 

Declan had to fight with himself to keep from looking at your backside as you walked past him. Your dress hugged your figure perfectly, a body he had memorized over months of watching you frolic through his house in short skirts and skintight t-shirts.

You had become quite the temptress in Declan’s mind. 

He had always thought you were a beautiful young woman, but you were Taggie’s friend and nothing more. You were polite, easy to talk to, fun to have around– he was never one to mind your presence at family meals or special occasions. In fact he quite enjoyed when his daughter brought you around, he had always felt like you helped brighten their otherwise dim home with your lively personality. 

He was entertained by you– amused. However soon after Maud left; casting him aside for a new life in London, his feelings for you shifted to something a little less harmless.

It started when he saw you sunbathing in his front yard. 

You were joined by his two daughters, but he didn’t even notice. all he could do was gawk at the image of you sprawled out on a bright red pool towel in nothing but a skimpy bikini.

He had to peel his eyes from your body, reminding himself that you were only a few years older than his eldest daughter, young enough to be one of his children. Before he could rip his gaze from your bare skin, your eyes met his.

“Mr. O’Hara!” you were sat up waving in his direction, your chest bouncing ever so slightly with the movement and of course his eyes caught it.

He cursed himself at the strain in his jeans that only tightened upon hearing you call him that. Mr. O’Hara, it made you sound so innocent– so good-natured. The opposite of how Declan viewed you in that very moment, nearly naked on his front lawn. 

“Wanna join us? They say Vitamin D is good for your mental health. You know, boosting your mood and all that.” You were half yelling to ensure that he could hear you, a broad grin on your face.

Declan had never realized how cute your smile was. 

“I think I’ll have to pass on the invitation today.” He kept his voice pleasant and warm, speaking to you like he would his own children. 

“If you girls need me, I’ll be inside.” 

And with that Declan rushed to the kitchen to fix himself a glass of brandy, hoping to chase away the image of him pulling the tiny swimsuit off your body and fucking you into that cute little pool towel.

“I didn’t picture you as a Fleetwood Mac fan Mr. O’Hara.” Your voice was sugary and playful in his ears, bringing him back to the present where you were sat on his living room couch. 

“British rock band with a dicey love triangle, what’s not to like?” His own deep voice was now matching the playful tone in yours.

“And I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Declan.” He continued cleaning up the room, trying his best to act as if he wasn’t phased by your presence. 

“Did you abandon my daughter in the kitchen to come have a chat with me about Stevie Nicks?” He was joking with you, but the question about Taggie made you nervous. 

You had never been a good liar. 

“No we uh, finished the dishes. I just wanted to come see if you needed help with anything.” You were trying to keep your composure and act as natural as possible.

You were not doing a good job. Not one bit.

Maybe it was the tone of your voice or the way you stumbled over your words, but Declan was privy to your strange behavior. He stopped what he was doing and turned his body to face yours, brows furrowed.

“Why are ya actin’ weird?”

The question was filled with curiosity- hardly accusatory, but you felt your palms begin to sweat. 

“I’m not acting weird.” You countered, sitting up straight.

Declan’s eyes squinted at you in question.

“Tag!” He yelled toward the kitchen but kept his stare on you.

“Taggie!” This time his yell was much louder, and you winced at the upcoming interrogation you were sure to receive. 

Declan slowly closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

“Where’s Tag?” 

With his eyes still closed you could tell Declan was trying to remain relaxed, but you had a feeling he knew exactly where his daughter was.

“She went to walk Rupert home.” The words flew out of your mouth in one quiet stream. 

Declan let out an aggressively loud sigh. his eyes finally opening to meet yours, the anger palpable in the deep brown of his iris’. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t fucking trust either of them.”

He was doing his best not to yell but his voice was pushing out strong and harsh. His hands were in the air motioning in rage, still holding onto half full glasses left behind by party goers. 

“I can’t fucking stand Rupert, he knows exactly how I feel about this! I’m going down there.”

And now he was yelling.

He shoved the glasses in his hands onto the coffee table, creating another mess out of the already dirty cups. The clinking and crashing sounds only accentuating the anger exuding from him.

Just as he was turning to leave the room you jumped up off the sofa, rushing to grab his forearm. 

“Declan don’t.”

your eyes were pleading with him, he had never seen you look so desperate. It stopped him in his tracks seeing you gaze at him like that.

Why was it turning him on?

“She’s an adult. Let her make her own decisions.” Your grip on his arm was still tight, you weren’t going to let him ruin this for Taggie.

“Yeah, and he’s an adult too. almost twice her age. He shouldn’t be interested in gettin’ her alone.”

He wasn’t yelling anymore, and he also wasn’t fighting your effort to keep him from leaving the room. 

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” Your voice was calm and quiet in an attempt to deescalate the situation. 

“Well of course you would think that.”

Declan practically spit the words out, but you could tell by the wince in his eyes that he wished he hadn’t.

“and why do you say that?” You challenged, taken aback by his comment. 

You were searching your brain for the reason behind Declan’s accusation when it hit you. He had to be referring to the time you hooked up with Basil Baddington. Only you never actually hooked up with him. The two of you madeout in his parked car outside of bar sinister one time and the next day there was a nasty rumor going around that you got caught giving basil head in his brand new 86 corvette. 

You could distinctly remember later that week Declan asked if you were seeing Bas.

He never mentioned the alleged sexual act or the other heinous things people were saying about the two of you, he just asked if you were dating.

It was such a harmless and casual question, one that you answered confidently, assuring him there was absolutely nothing going on between you. “Good he’s a prick and way too old for you” was Declan’s short and sweet response.

“Oh last summer. With Bas?” You were grinning now. Almost amused that Declan was comparing your two-week fling with a man barely 10 years older than you to his daughter’s love affair with a retired Olympian. 

“First of all, he’s not even that much older than me. And second, you of all people should know nothing even happened between us. We made out and I barely felt him up through his jeans, nothing past a PG-13 rating.” You were almost laughing at the memory.

Declan felt a pang of jealousy in his chest at the mention of the younger man’s name on your lips.

“He isn’t my type anyway.” The words tumble from your mouth and you see Declan’s eyes fully soften. His gaze intently watching you. 

“Even if I am a bad influence, at least Taggie won’t be getting caught giving someone a blowjob in a tiny pretentious sports car.”

There’s a giggle in your voice and Declan closes his eyes once again, shaking his head at your words.

“Please don’t say my daughter’s name and the word blowjob in the same sentence.” He’s rubbing his temple, and you let your hold on his arm relax.

“Oh come on! It’s just sex. Blowjobs are a perfectly normal part of life.” Your sentiment is serious but there’s still a teasing tone in your voice. 

Declan can’t handle hearing such dirty things come out of your mouth.

You talking about sex was not something he had on this evening’s agenda. He didn’t think he could handle much more before he would need to excuse himself to his bedroom to relieve the tension building in his pants. Imagining it’s your lips wrapped around his cock, with the sound of your voice still echoing in his head.

You watched with a coy smile on your face as Declan’s cheeks displayed a slight hue of pink. He was looking everywhere but your eyes and it was fun to see him so flustered.

Your hand still lingered on his arm, and you realized you’d never touched him before. You had imagined it many, many times, although, those scenarios were often much raunchier– involving your hand holding something that definitely wasn’t his arm. You had fantasized about touching Declan, feeling the warmth of his skin on yours. Your heart rate quickened when you remembered the two of you were alone. 

Something about your current position coupled with the idea that it was just the two of you on your own in this big house, had you behaving in a way you barely recognized. Possessed by a craving that could only be satisfied by the man at the other end of your touch.

“When was the last time you had a woman on her knees for you?” The question left your lips quietly- a soft and smooth whisper. 

His eyes are on yours quick, but you can’t read his expression. He’s staring you down, not even attempting to open his mouth to give you an answer to your question. 

“I mean it’s had to of been months. I’m around enough to know you haven’t seen anyone since maud left and I-“ Your continuing your cross-examination when Declan’s harsh accent interrupts you. 

“Years.”

The one word is all he says. 

It takes you a minute to understand, but once you do you have to try your best to keep the shock from showing on your face.

“Years Declan?” the surprise in your voice is unmistakable.

“It’s been years since the last time someone gave you a blowjob?”

Declan just raises his eyebrows at you in defeat. There’s a hint of embarrassment in his eyes and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. 

“Maud wasn’t much of a giver.” He shrugs. 

“Lucky for her I was.” You’re glad to see the playful glimmer in his gaze as he jokes about his ex-wife.  

Declan’s words insinuate that him and Maud’s intimacy completely revolved around her pleasure.

What a selfish bitch. You think to yourself.

You had never liked Maud. The way she treated her family made you irrationally angry and this was just adding fuel to the fire. 

“That’s not fair.” Your voice is faint. 

If it wasn’t for the way your eyes were staring into his, Declan would have sworn you were talking to yourself.

“You deserve to feel good.” This time you open your mouth, and the words sound almost like a purr. 

Declan can feel his eyelids growing heavy with lust and he can’t stop himself from watching as you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

You’re biting down on the pillowy flesh and all he wants to do is replace your teeth with his, gently nipping at your skin and finally getting a taste of those pretty pink lips. 

You see Declan’s gaze fall to your lips and something in you snaps. It’s almost like you’ve lost all logical thought and replaced it with feral desire as you sink down onto your knees for the man in front of you.

Declan’s voice gets stuck in his throat as he whispers your name causing it to come out in a husky groan.

He’s completely lost in his head right now. He can’t focus on a single thing, only you kneeling beneath him. 

“What are you doin’?” He finally comes to his senses enough to string a sentence together.

“Giving you what you deserve.” You state sweetly.

He shakes his head in disagreeance but can’t form the words on his tongue to tell you to stop.

“This is wrong.” He says it but he’s making absolutely no effort to get you off your knees. 

“Let me do this for you Mr. O’Hara” You look up at him, doing your best to keep your gaze wide-eyed and innocent. Your fingertips toying with his belt buckle. 

Seeing you looking up at him through your lashes like that, using his surname in such a sensual tone– he would let you do anything you wanted to him. He had never had a woman so ready to give to him like this. You were practically salivating, so hungry and greedy to have him in your mouth, it was like something out of a wet dream. 

“Yeah, Okay.” He gives into your joint desire with a whisper of two simple words. 

The satisfied smirk on your lips as you hear him agree to the lewd act has him going weak in the knees.

He’s mentally searching his surroundings for a stable piece of furniture to grip as you undo his belt with your nimble hands.

If you keep acting so desperate to have your lips around his cock he won’t be able to stand on his own two feet.

You take your time with his belt, pulling it from the loops on his waist one by one until it finally hits the floor. 

You’re staring at the tent in his dress pants, seeing how hard he is in anticipation. The evidence of his arousal has you wet between your legs and you can’t help but lift your hand to get a feel of him through his pants. 

Your touch on him is soft but the second he feels your hand meet his concealed erection he’s sucking in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut in shameful desire. 

You move your fingertips to the button of his pants, popping it open and trailing his zipper down at a painfully slow pace. 

Declan was doing his best to remain calm but you could hear his erratic breathing with every movement of your body beneath him.

His hands were hanging at his sides and you desperately wanted them tangled in your hair or around your neck. 

You had his underwear hooked in your grip ready to slip them, along with his pants, down to his ankles.

You looked up at him once more only to see his eyes still closed.

He wanted to look at you, to see you inches away from his cock, but he couldn’t. There was no way in hell he could stand to watch you taking his clothes off, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He would cum in his pants right away. 

He was focusing on steadying his breath as you pulled his boxers and slacks down his thighs, allowing his agonizingly hard member freedom from its constraints. 

You were now face to face with a part of Declan you thought you would only see in your dreams. You bit down on your lip again at the sight of him, bigger and even more alluring than you had imagined it to be. 

You trail your fingertips up his thigh earning a groan from the man above you.

Very gently taking his length in your hand you pump him once, then twice, wondering how on earth anyone could neglect this man of such pleasure for so long. 

It was a crime, you thought– to sleep next to Declan O’Hara every night and never give him this type of gratification. 

You leaned in to place a handful of soft kisses to his lower abdomen in a path to where he wanted your mouth most.

A quiet groan left his mouth when your lips met the base of his cock, your tongue coming into play as you traced up the length of his shaft with one long kitten lick, kissing the precum off his leaking tip.

Taking just the head of him through the threshold of your lips you decide to look up again, hoping to see a state of bliss taking over his features.

You take him deeper into your mouth and peer up at him. His stare is completely fixated on you, his mouth parted in pleasure.

When his eyes catch yours it’s game over, he doesn’t care that you’re his daughter’s best friend or that you’re nearly 20 years younger than him. The only thing he can think of is the feeling of your sweet mouth around his cock and how utterly gorgeous you look taking him like this. 

“Fuck darlin’.” He’s moaning out as you slide him deeper past your lips. 

You moan back when his hands find your hair, intertwining his fingers in it gently, careful not to grip or pull too hard.

You wouldn’t mind though.

You had imagined fucking Declan multiple times in multiple different scenarios. Many of those visions involved his rough hands gripping your neck, slapping your ass, and pulling your hair.

You needed him in every way possible and you wanted him to know he could use you however he pleased. 

You kept a slow pace as you continuously enveloped him in the warmth of your mouth. In and out.

The attention of your lips is on the head of his cock when you bring a hand up to wrap around the rest of him, your mouth and fingers working together. You feel his body shutter and for a second you think he might lose his balance. 

“Christ that’s good.” His voice falls on your ears in a throaty moan.

“So good for me like that darlin’.” 

His words are driving you to a place of overwhelming carnality.

In that moment you felt as though your one and only purpose in life was to be on your knees for Declan O’Hara. You were determined to show him exactly what he’d been missing all those years. 

“Touch yourself.” His voice is no longer a moan, instead it’s strong and stern. 

You pause your movements for just a second to process his command.

Here you sat thinking you were the one with all the filthy thoughts, but Declan’s brain must have been equally as corrupt.

He was asking to see you touch yourself for him– to see you get off with his dick in your mouth.

And it just might have been the hottest thing anyone had ever said to you.

Without so much as a second thought, you were hiking your already short dress further up your thighs until you were able to easily reach underneath. Slipping the silk material of your underwear to the side, your index finger found your clit circling it lazily as you continued to focus on Declan’s pleasure. 

“Good girl.” Declan praised and you could hear the faint smirk in his voice. 

He had wanted to call you that earlier in the night when he watched you bend over his dining room table. Helping to clear dirty dishes, leaning over to grab a plate with your short dress riding up far enough to send Declan into cardiac arrest. You were just trying to help, to be a good girl, so sweet and innocent not even realizing how dirty you really were. 

The sight in front of him now was far more arousing. You bowing in front of him, immersed in his gratification with your own hand hiding between your legs. He didn’t want to admit how close he was at the sight alone. That’s not even to mention how good it felt.

It had been so long since anyone touched him like this, it was a near out of body experience. The hug of your wet lips mixed with the smooth strokes of your hand had profanities dripping from his tongue. 

With every sound that slipped from Declan’s lips your fingers worked faster at the growing pleasure between your legs. Your pace quickened on Declan as well and you immediately felt his grasp on your hair tighten. 

He was dangerously close to spilling into your mouth. He was trying to pay attention to his breathing and steady his mind.

He wanted so badly for this feeling to last forever but the fire within him was all consuming and he knew he had to stop you soon or the fun would be over before it had even begun. 

He uses his hold in your hair to guide you off of him. Your hand is still buried underneath your dress and your hair messy from his hands. Your lips are plump and you have the cutest look of confusion and frustration on your face. Declan almost pushed you right back onto him at the look in your eyes, but he refrained. 

“Stand up.” He was enjoying ordering you around more than he could have ever anticipated. 

You stood slightly irritated. How rude of him to not let you finish the job you were working so beautifully at.

You had barely any time to be disappointed because as soon as you’re on your feet Declan is pulling you into a frenzied kiss.

It’s frantic, it’s turbulent, it’s sloppy. the kiss is raw and impassioned and you’re both lost in each other’s taste.

He broke the newfound connection of lips to reach under the hem of your dress. Finding the thin material of your panties and yanking them down your legs freeing your body of the wet and ruined clothing. 

With his lips back on yours, he took a few steps backward brining you with him.

Once his body finds the living room couch, he’s sat, drawing you onto his lap.

You were falling onto him straddling one of his thighs as you continued assaulting his mouth with your own. You enjoyed the slight dominance you held in this position. 

His kiss found its way to your exposed neck placing the most delicious wet touches on your skin.

You felt his hands grab your waist on either side pulling your body down to sit completely on his bare thigh. Your exposed core met the pure muscle of Declan’s leg and you both made equally lewd sounds of delight. 

“Tell me,” Declan begins to speak but his voice is strained in excitement at the feeling of your wet cunt against his thigh. 

“do you walk around my house in those tiny little’ skirts just to torture me.” 

He’s smirking at you as he uses his hold on your hips to guide you, pulling you back and forth against him. 

You’re in a trance at the delicious friction of him beneath you, all you can do is nod your head at his words, that innocent expression still in your eyes. 

He’s going to go insane if you keep looking at him like that.  

Your following his lead and grinding against his thigh shamelessly.

Declan’s using the dress that’s now bunched at your waist as leverage, griping at the material to influence your movements.

His eyes fall between the two of you, watching you use yourself on him. You’re letting sighs and whimpers fall from your mouth as your arousal slides continuously over the thickest part of his leg.

You catch his cock twitch out of the corner of your eye and all you want to do is maneuver your body so your sitting on it instead of his thigh. 

You reach down, wrapping your hand around his member once again.

“Declan, please.”

Your begging to be on his cock at this point.

He can’t deny how much he loves hearing you beg for him. He’s ready to pull you down onto his length the second he hears your eager little whimper. 

“Never knew you’d be so needy darlin’.”

He’s using his hold on your hips to lift you enough for you to subtly switch positions. You’re now straddling his entire lap, your center only inches away from meeting his. 

“Would’ve done this a long time ago.”

His voice is raspy as he brings his hand between your legs. 

Declan’s pointer finger finds your entrance and eases it’s way inside of you, causing a moan to spill from your throat. 

“Declan…” His name falls from your lips, but he could tell his fingers weren’t what you wanted filling you. 

“Beg for it.” He whispers between you, smiling like a pussy-drunk idiot. 

His finger is curling into your walls hitting just the right spot, but you want his cock stretching you out and filling you up. 

“Please” You’re asking him in the sweetest tone you can muster.

You still have a slight hold of his length, and you begin stroking it at a painfully slow pace. 

“God I want this so badly.” Your confession is breathless.

“I think about it all of the time.” You continue making sure to give him your best doe-eyes. 

That was it, he couldn’t take it anymore. You were too sweet, too perfect. He had been obsessed with you for months; watching you, thinking about you. He didn’t give a fuck how wrong it was– he needed you. 

In an instant his fingers were gone from your core and his hold was back on your hips, sinking you down onto him. 

You could feel his tip meeting your opening and you whined out in anticipation. The noise causing Declan to thrust into you, filling you with one deep push. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from squealing from the stinging pleasure. 

He waited a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size and giving himself a second to steady his breath. 

“This,” He spoke in a grunt as he fucked up into you again.

“Is all I think about every time I see you in my house.”

His voice is spreading warmth through your body as his thrusts ignite a fire in your abdomen. 

“You don’t even have to try. You’re just always so enticing.” The words coming from his mouth are intoxicating.

You’re swimming in a pool of ecstasy at his confessions. 

“I can’t get enough.” He’s panting as his thrusts pick up their pace.

You’re grinding down onto him meeting each of his thrusts with a wet squelch, taking him deeper with each movement. The way he’s stretching you open has you clenching around him. 

You lock your hands behind his neck leaning on his shoulders for some kind of control as you feel your body beginning to go limp.

The pressure building in you is almost too much to bear and it becomes even more difficult when Declan meets your exposed chest with open mouthed kisses. He’s licking and sucking at your skin greedily, causing your head to fall to the side in pleasure. 

“So pretty.” Declan is murmuring into your skin.

Your movements mixed with his are perfectly timed and hitting just the perfect spot.

Maybe it’s the fact that you were already soaked long before you had his dick in your mouth, or maybe it was because you had been dreaming of this exact moment for a long time– either way, you were close. Really close. Your walls were desperately squeezing Declan’s cock as it slid in and out of you, your chest heaving under his kisses. 

“C’mon darlin’.”

It’s Declan’s turn to look up at you through his lashes and the sight has you going feral. The tightening in your core finally letting loose. 

“Let go for me.” 

With his words you’re a whimpering, moaning mess. Your movements halt and your body tenses as you push through your release. 

Your pulsating embrace around him has Declan following your lead.

He’s holding your hips in place and bucking into you at a fierce pace. Plunging deep, fucking you right through your orgasm. It’s taking everything in you not to scream out in blinding pleasure.

Then he grows sloppy as he lets his own release take over him. 

He finishes with a string of moans that sound like music to your ears, and you think you might cum again just from the noises he’s making as he comes undone.  

You’re sat on him, both of you catching your breath, your eyes are locked on one another. Neither of you can look away.

There was a shared energy between you. Maybe guilt or shame– or perhaps triumph. 

You couldn’t help but remember the reason you were in this position in the first place.

Taggie.

She would be so disappointed in you but even more upset with her father if she knew what just took place. 

She couldn’t be too angry though. You did exactly what you said you’d do– distract him. 

Watching the man sitting beneath you struggling to steady his breath was a sign that you had done a pretty good job at your task of helping Taggie escape for the night.

You could only hope she’d had half as much fun as you did. 

my masterlist

[marauder-misprint]

Hi! I have no idea how to request correctly butI really liked how you write fred and I was wondering if I can maybe request you doing qn insecure!fred x reader where they are dating and molly wants reader to come over but fred knowing they are poor doesnt want the reader to see. When he tells her and she agrees to come over and meets his familyi(the ones she hasnt met yet) she slips up on something stupid like saying a twosided comment about their house and molly takes it the bad way, disliking reader and pressuring fred into breaking up with her but reader gets defensive and they fight, the weasley siblings on readers side and in the end molly starts to tolerate you. You absolutely don't have to but thx anyways!!

Thank you for the request! Although, I think you are referring to a Fred fic I reblogged so I can’t take credit for that 😅 ANYWAYS, I hope you like this - my first Hogwarts Era (Trio Era? Golden Era? Lightning Era?) 

Peculiar

insecure!Fred x reader

3.4k words

cw: angst, fluff, y/n

One thing Fred liked about Hogwarts was his family’s financial situation didn’t matter. Everyone wore the same uniform, even if his were hand-me-downs from Percy, and his family always managed to pull through to get the supplies they needed, which meant his broom wasn’t the newest but it did the job. He knew he couldn’t pretend his family had galleons upon galleons in their vault like other families. He knew he couldn’t spoil his new girlfriend in all the ways he wanted to, and by goodness, did he wish he could spoil you.

Still, things were going good. You didn’t discuss your family’s financial situation much, just enough for him to know you were from a more well-off family. You were only teenagers after all. You enjoyed spending time with each other and all of the other things that came with teenage romances, including the moments where you both that maybe it could be more than just a teenage romance. 

Things were good. Until a letter from Molly arrived. 

Errol near crashed into the Gryffindor table at breakfast in his typical fashion.

“INCOMING!” Lee hollered as the aging bird landed among the plate and globals, sending food and drink everywhere. 

“Oh, Errol,” George groaned as he untied the letter at his foot. “Oi, Freddie, it’s for you.”

Fred took the letter and quickly read it, a frown appearing on his face the further down he got in the letter. George picked it up right away, despite barely being able to see it in his peripheral vision as he tended to the owl. 

“What’s it?” he asked. 

“Mum wants me to invite Y/N to the Burrow over the summer.” His frown was paired with bunched brows and a pale face. 

Katie clapped Fred on his back enthusiastically. 

“That’s good, yeah? She’ll get to experience that Weasley hospitality Molly’s known for!”

Fred just shook his head, rereading the letter. It was bad enough that he couldn’t spoil you at school, but what would you think if you saw his home, how they lived. It wasn’t as bad as some people teased, but it certainly was no Malfoy Manor or Diggory Estate. 

“Mate, am I getting the invite this year?” Lee asked George, throwing an arm around his shoulder and shaking him. 

“Can’t. Mum’s already planning for Harry and Hermione. Plus Bill, Charlie and Percy will be home too. I think Perce is having Penelope over too? It’s going to be a full house.”

Lee swore. “Losing to your girlfriend, Fred. It hurts,” he said teasingly. 

Fred crumpled the letter and shoved it into his pocket. He didn’t say anything for the rest of breakfast. 

“Okay, why the long face? Don’t you want Y/N to come?” George asked Fred as they made their way to their first lesson of the day. 

“I… It’s the Burrow. What if she expects more? Better?”

George just shrugged and then gave his twin a knowing look. “So we don’t wipe our arses with galleons. It don’t matter that much. You know Mum just wants to meet her.”

“Mum really wants to meet her.” Fred stopped walking. “Do you know who told ‘er? I hadn’t mentioned Y/N in any of my letters yet.”

“Probably Ginny,” George laughed. 

“What’d my favorite Weasley do?” you asked as you caught up with the boys, a grin on your face. 

“Aw, I thought I was your favorite,” George whined with a faux-pout. 

“Ginerva is telling Mum all my secrets,” Fred said before planting a kiss on the side of your forehead. You didn’t need to know that you were one of those secrets. 

The boys stopped discussing the letter for the time being. George at least had the tact to talk to Fred about his worries about you at a later time. 

You weren’t oblivious to Fred’s palpable worry during the day. He wasn’t normally this quiet or fidgety. Maybe there were days when he was more restless than usual, but today, he kept checking the clock, nervously cracking his knuckles and crumpling something in his pocket. 

One glance at George told him that you were picking up that something was off.

“Don’t worry ‘bout, love. I’ll get ‘im sorted out for you,” George whispered to you after classes before hurrying to catch up with his brother who had already started making his way to Gryffindor Tower.

You watched them both with a concerned frown, but eventually decided not to think about it too much. Did you wish Fred would talk to you about whatever was eating his mind? Yes. But if George was convinced he could get his brother out of the funk, it couldn’t be too bad. 

“Do you think she’ll dump your sorry arse when she sees home?” George asked once they were far enough away. 

Fred didn’t answer. His brain said ‘maybe’ but he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.

George laughed in disbelief. “She wouldn’t! Bloody hell, why’d you think that?”

“You know she comes from… more,” Fred said quietly, the words feeling uncomfortable in his mouth. You weren’t rich rich, but still, it was more than the Weasleys. 

“Hate to break it to you, but I don’t think she’s a gold digger.” George clamped a hand on Fred’s shoulder as they stood outside the Fat Lady’s portrait. “If she was, don’t you think she’d be with Flint or Pinch-Smedley, or Oggspire? Don’t be dense.” His voice had taken a firmer tone.

Don’t be dense, Fred repeated in his mind as he sat in the common room waiting for dinner. Don’t be dense. It’d be fine. It had to be. Was it a tad embarrassing? Sometimes, but at least they didn’t all sleep in one room like Malfoy had once said. 

Fred called you over to sit with him at dinner and by the way he smiled at you as you sat down next to him, you knew George had worked some magic. Fred was back to being Fred. He leaned in as you filled up your plate.

“So, I was wondering if you’d like to visit the Burrow this summer. Mum’s given permission. She’d love to meet you,” he said in a hushed voice. 

You had heard stories about summers at the Burrow. You knew it was home to more than the Weasleys when school was out; Harry, Hermione, Lee, Angelina, Katie, among others, had all been. There were legends of 3-on-3 quidditch matches and Molly’s delectable meals. And you had just been invited. Your face lit up with the brightest smile Fred had seen since the day he asked you out. 

“Yeah, Fred, I’d love to!” You leaned forward so you could see George on Fred’s other side. “Hear that, George? I’m going to see the Burrow!” 

---

Your mother dropped you off at the nearest muggle village to the Burrow. She waited with you until Fred came to meet you. 

“Your parents will be there the whole time?” she asked him when he arrived.

“Yes, ma’am. Mum is dying to meet her,” he said politely.

You, however, rolled your eyes. You bid your mother goodbye and went with Fred.

“I assured her that your parents would be around. Told her you guys have friends over every summer,” you ranted to him as you walked. “That your mum loves to host and meet all your friends. I mean, how else would she get to meet everyone that Ginny talks about in her letters home?”

Fred laughed. Of course you knew it was Ginny who wrote home the most.

He cautiously watched your expression as the Burrow came into view. They had passed the barn and chicken coop, along with several animals. You were speechless as you looked the house up and down. His worry about what you would think melted away when he saw the pure awe on your face. 

“What a peculiar home!” you exclaimed as you reached the sign that said ‘The Burrow’. “The magic-”

“Peculiar?” Molly gasped from the kitchen. 

You hadn’t noticed her yet, still taking in everything that was the Burrow. It’s many stories with rooms jutting out every which way that gave it a very crooked and semi-lopsided appearance. Just from the outside, it was very different from any house you had ever seen, wizarding or muggle. 

You gave Fred a concerned sideways glance. His mother did not sound happy with your comment. He gave you a soft yet reassuring smile. This was his home after all and you had agreed to come stay and meet his family, and so far, you were taking it well.

“You’re here!” Ginny squealed as she burst out the front door and pulled you into a hug. “I can’t wait to show you around!” 

“I can show Y/N around just fine, Ginny,” Fred said, an easier smile coming to his face. 

You just laughed, taking Ginny’s hand once she released you. The three of you entered into the house and walked right into the surprisingly harsh gaze of Molly. 

“Mum,” Fred said warily. “This is Y/N.” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” you said kindly. “You have a-”

“Peculiar home, as you said outside,” Molly cut you off. 

You took a step backwards, stepping on Fred’s foot. He sucked a breath in, loud enough for you to hear. 

“Dinner’s at seven. Keep doors open,” she added shortly before turning back into the kitchen. 

You tried to give Fred a questioning look but he was staring after his mother.

“Come with me. I’ll show you my room! It’s where you, me and ‘Mione will be sleeping. Like one big slumber party!” Ginny said, grabbing your arm again and pulling you toward the twisting stairs. 

Once you and Ginny were gone, Fred followed his mother into the kitchen.

“Mum?” he asked cautiously. 

In his mind, he wanted to ask ‘what the bloody hell was that? You gave me, George and Ron an easier time when we stole Dad’s car to rescue Harry.’ He didn’t, but he wanted to. And he was glad he didn’t when Molly spun around, glaring and pointing a wooden spoon at him.

“Do. Not.” Her voice was sharp. “That girl… The gall… Insulting us before she even…” She turned back to the pot she was stirring and was more muttering to herself than talking to Fred. “Expects us to feed and care for her… Peculiar… I’ll show her peculiar…” 

The rest of the day and the next two were filled with never-ending fun, except for meals when Molly sat down and glared at you from across the table. You spent most of your time with Fred and George, as you had expected to, but you helped with chores around the house and chatted with just about everyone. Percy and Penelope were more quiet than the rest, often opting to read or discuss their jobs quietly when they returned from them. You tried not to take it personally that Molly seemed to like her much more than you. 

Then you got the delight to meet Bill and be properly introduced to Charlie. The latter had been at Hogwarts when you started but it wasn’t like you ever really interacted. The eldest of the Weasley children were incredible story-tellers and just as hilarious as the rest of them. The way Charlie talked about his work with dragons almost made you wish you had taken Care of Magical Creatures and Bill’s stories about Egypt and Gringotts were overall impressive. 

The fourth day of your stay is when you heard how unwelcome you apparently were at the Burrow. Or, at least, according to Molly. 

The living room was alive with various games being played by the siblings and guests. Exploding snap, wizards’ chess, gobstones, you name it. It was loud and warm and fun. Fred noticed your glass was empty and went to the kitchen to refill it for you. 

“Ever the gentleman,” you laughed as he disappeared through the door.

“Fred, how dare you bring a girl like that into this house!” Molly’s voice could be heard through the walls, sending a sudden hush through the room. 

You blinked, looking from George to Ron to Hermione. 

“I thought your family didn’t care about status?” you asked, confusion obvious on your face. 

The Weasley were purebloods. You were a halfblood but Hermione was fully muggleborn and Molly didn’t seem to have a problem with her. Maybe her issue was with wizards and muggles mating? Certainly a new take on blood status… 

You could hear Fred and Molly arguing although significantly quieter than her first outburst. When he returned, his face was beet red and he had forgotten the glasses of water. 

“So, what was that?” Ron asked, breaking the tension.

Fred shook his head before forcing a smile. “Nothing. Just a miscommunication.” 

You knew it wasn’t nothing. For a prankster, Fred could be terrible at lying if something wasn’t sitting right with him. You and George tried to get more out of him to no avail. He wouldn’t discuss what he and their mum had argued about. You two knew it was about you, but Fred gave no details.

When Fred worried about bringing you to his home, he didn’t know that he was worrying about the wrong person. You loved the Burrow and he felt that that much was plain as day to see. But it wasn’t to Molly and Fred ended up telling George as much when he asked him again when they were alone in their room. 

“She wants me to break up with Y/N,” Fred whispered, his voice shaking from anger. “Said she’s too proud for the family. Too stuck up. That she’s rude.”

“But she’s not!”

“I know she’s not. I tried to tell her that. Explain what Y/N meant by ‘peculiar’ and that it’s a good thing. Mum wasn’t having it.”

And the next day, things got worse. Molly stopped trying to hide her distaste for you. She didn’t mutter her comments anymore, rather saying them with full conviction. You tried to stay out of her way and genuinely tried to keep your expression pleasant, but the constant bombardment of hurtful words was getting too much. You hit your breaking point at dinner.

“Can you pass the salt?” you asked no one in particular. It didn’t matter who passed it to you as long as someone did. 

“In this peculiar home, we use manners,” Molly snapped. “Fred, I told you, you need a girl with manners. She certainly doesn’t have any.”

Your expression twisted. 

“Would you rather I just reach over the entire table? Sorry I forgot ‘please,’” you replied, sounding harsher than you would normally speak to any adult, let alone your boyfriend’s mother. 

Molly scoffed. “You are no good for my Fred. You are lucky I don’t toss you out now. He can do so much better.” 

You stood up with so much force your chair scraped the floor, hitting the wall. 

“If that’s how you feel about me…” Your voice cracked. You could feel the heat rising to your face and your hands beginning to shake. Tears began to well behind your eyes, but you weren’t going to let Molly see you cry. “No need to toss me out. I’ll just leave now.” 

You turned and left the room before chaos broke out. You could hear Fred and George yelling. You could hear Arthur and Molly yelling. Ron, Hermione and Ginny joined in before you made it to the front door. 

When Fred had invited you to spend time with his family over the summer, you didn’t expect to be in their garden sobbing as you launched garden gnomes over the hedge. You could still hear the yelling inside the Burrow. You weren’t exactly sure what you did wrong, what you did to make Molly dislike you so much so quickly. Your wand laid on the ground off the side with a soft glow from the Lumos you had cast so you could sort of see what you were doing.

“Are you… de-gnoming our garden?” George asked, trying to hide the amusement in his voice as you launched another gnome. The yelling had quieted now, but you could still hear that heated words were being exchanged.

“One bit me…” you mumbled before sniffling again. 

One had bit you, but that wasn’t why you were crying and you knew that George knew that. Being bit, however, made you feel slightly better about the tears streaming down your face. 

“You know he’s not going to break up with you.”

You nodded. “What did I do?” You launched another gnome.

“You, erm, called the Burrow peculiar? I guess Mum didn’t like that…” He chuckled awkwardly.

When you gave a loud sniffle instead of laughing with him, he pulled you into a hug. You dropped the gnome you had in your hand.

“She’ll come ‘round. Fred’s in there. Ron’s there. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Percy even. They are all trying to explain to Mum that you didn’t mean it like that. I mean, come on, you got golden boy Percy defending you.”

You gave him a weak smile as you pulled out of his hug. You picked up your wand and pointed it at the Burrow, although it didn’t do much to illuminate the building. 

“It is peculiar though! It’s amazing! Ne’er seen anything like it before. It’s so… distinctly Weasley in the best way possible!” 

George let out a loud laugh and soon enough you were giggling with him. He kept you company outside and kept you laughing until there were no more sniffles coming from you. Eventually, Fred came to collect you both. He led you upstairs to his and George’s room, but George stayed in the living room with the rest of the family. You could hear Molly grumbling to herself in the kitchen as you passed the door, but everyone else seemed to be far more cheerful gathered by the fire. 

You felt your heart jump to your throat when Fred closed the door behind him. You stood in the middle of room, trying to not feel awkward.

“Is this where you break up with me for accidentally insulting your mum?” you asked softly, looking at the ground. You knew George said he wouldn’t but the idea lingered in your mind.

“What are you talking about?” Fred breathed as he quickly moved to you and wrapped his arms around you tighter than George had. 

You couldn’t help it. You started crying again.

“Y/N, no. Not unless…” He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Unless you want to?” There was so much hesitation and uncertainty in his voice. It broke your heart to hear him like that.

“No, I don’t want to. But your mum-”

“My mum still doesn’t know you meant it as a compliment.”

You rested your forehead on his shoulder. You took a deep breath to breathe in his scent. 

“She just needs to be ‘round you more, get to know you. Then she’ll love you like I do.”

Your eyes went wide against his shoulder. ‘Love you like I do.’ Had Fred just indirectly said he loved you? 

The way Fred stopped talking and stood more frigidly told you that he realized what he said after the words left his mouth. He was waiting for you to give him some kind of reaction. Was it too soon? 

After a moment, you lifted your head and you kissed him. You felt him relax underneath you. Of all your kisses, this was one of the most mild ones yet it was charged with so much emotion.

“I love you too,” you whispered as you broke the kiss.

He smiled at you before kissing you again. 

“You know, I was actually so nervous to bring you here.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Well, because it is a bit peculiar,” he teased. “No, really, I don’t talk about it much but we’re not… rolling in galleons per se. We make do. We get by. It’s just-”

“I don’t care about that, Fred,” you said, cutting him off before gently kissing his cheek. “It’s your home and your family and it’s all amazing. I’d rather be in a home filled with love and laughter than anything else.” 

“Once Mum comes to her senses, you won’t know what to do with all the love she can give,” Fred warned. 

“I can’t wait for that.”

Because I'm a petty bitch who hold grudges, I really see Molly not coming around until like Bill & Fleur's wedding or beyond, and Reader knows this so she just doesn't really visit the Burrow as much and Ginny is v upset that Reader isn't staying at the Burrow for the wedding and Reader is just like 'I'm not going to impose where I know I'm not wanted.'

[burningembers91]

Body Talk - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up Piece to:

Back Alley Bar Help Wanted

Synopsis: A night celebrating turns to something more when your hidden feelings finally bubble to the surface.

It was quiet in the bar tonight, Mondays usually were. You were grateful for the respite; glad you could use the time to cram some more for your exam. You weren’t sure how you’d made it to the end of your first year of university, but somehow you were on track to come top of your class. You’d managed to juggle studies while working two jobs and had stayed semi-sane in the process. You knew Seong Gi-Hun was to thank for that, always there to help if you were struggling, always making sure you had a smile on your face. He was next to you now, quizzing you using the flash cards you’d spent hours making the night before. He’d become a different person in the last few months, had transformed before your eyes. Gone was the man who drank himself to death each night, who barely remembered to shower and eat. Gi-Hun now made sure his hair was always styled, made sure he was always wearing a nice shirt when he saw you. He’d been sober for nearly nine months, and had started going to the gym. A steady job at a warehouse meant he had money to pay rent, and he was saving up for a plane ticket to visit his daughter in America.

You’d been good for each other, pushing the other to be the best versions of themselves, always support one another when times got tough. You were looking forward to a break from university, looking forward to a summer free of deadlines and exams. Sure, you still had to work two jobs to afford your rent and schooling expenses, but you were looking forward to a little more free time. Gi-Hun had promised you a day trip to Busan, a chance for the two of you to get away, even for a short time. Your friendship had blossomed since that evening in your apartment, and you found that you spent most days with him. You felt his absence when he wasn’t around, feeling like something was missing. Gi-Hun had begun to feel the same. You’d saved him from himself, had thrown him a lifeline when he felt like giving up. you’d been good for him, and his feelings for you had grown over the last few months. Both of you were tiptoeing around the chemistry between you, too afraid to spoil the friendship in case the other didn’t feel the same.

“I think I need to stop,” you sighed, rubbing your tired eyes. “My brain is mush and if I study anymore my head might actually explode.” “Just remember to relax tomorrow,” he smiled, “you know all the answers.” He’d learned that you had a habit of getting in your own head, of doubting yourself when things got tough. You were the smartest person he knew, and he wished you’d give yourself more credit.

He helped you close up the bar, driving you home before saying goodnight. Every evening, he found it harder to leave you, harder to watch you climb the steps to your apartment. He wanted to pull you back into his arms; to kiss you and tell you how much you meant to him. he wanted to make love to you on the sofa you’d spent so many nights studying on, wanted to hear you moan his name. he hated leaving you, hated returning to his empty apartment. He still struggled to sleep most nights, and his thoughts were filled with you on the nights he lay awake.

Gi-Hun couldn’t stop checking his phone the next day, constantly stopping to see if you’d had your results back. You were sitting your exam at 9am and had been up texting him since 5am. He wanted to take you out tonight, wanted to buy you dinner and have a proper celebration. He had no doubt you’d pass, but he still couldn’t help but feel nervous for you. you’d worked so hard to get where you were, and the desperation in your face was evident. He was on break when you called him, your voice shrill. “I passed!” You squealed breathlessly. “I actually passed!” “Amazing!” Gi-Hun couldn’t hide the joy he felt, his smile spreading wide. “Let me take you out tonight. We’ll celebrate properly.” He wanted tonight to be special for you, he wanted you to let your hair down and celebrate the fact you were one year closer to your dream.

That night, Gi-Hun arrived to collect you from your apartment. He’d gone and bought a shirt especially, the crisp white material paired with his favourite jeans. He was speechless when you stepped outside, clad in a burgundy off the shoulder dress. He always thought you looked beautiful, but tonight you’d left him speechless. “What do you think?” you asked, giving him a twirl on the sidewalk as he stood open mouthed. “Very nice,” he finally managed to breath. “Just… wow.” You bit back a smile, enjoying the effect you were having on him. You’d picked this dress especially, knowing it showed off your figure.

You spent the evening in a cozy restaurant, feeling lighter than you had done in months. Gi-Hun couldn’t take his eyes off you, every moment he spent with you only affirming how much he cared for you. You were breathtaking in that dress, and his found his mind wandering, imagining how it would feel to kiss you, how it would feel to peel the dress from your body. You noticed him staring, noticed the way his eyes wondered your frame; the dress was having the desired effect.

You walked home slowly, neither of you wanting to part. Your hands brushed against each other a few times, sparks igniting deep within the pit of your stomach at the slightest of touches. “Do you want to come up?” you asked him when you arrived back your apartment. The chemistry between you was electric, the air almost crackling. You wondered if he could feel it too, wondered if his heart was racing as much as yours was. “Yes,” he answered, swallowing hard as you led him up the stairs. He’d been to your apartment dozens of times but tonight felt different. The tension was palpable, his heart beating so hard in his chest he was scared you might hear it.

Unlocking your door, you headed inside, the two of you standing in your hallway, neither one of you sure what to do next. Gi-Hun could see the steady rise and fall of your chest, could see the hunger in your eyes as looked up at him. “Kiss me,” you whispered, unable to resist him anymore. You needed a release, needed to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your body.

Gi-Hun kissed you gently, his hands caressing the contours of your waist, snaking up your back to the nape of your neck. He heard you moan appreciatively against him, felt your hands trail up his arms and across his shoulders. He allowed himself to be led to your bedroom, your fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt as you went. He could feel his aching cock pressing against the tight fabric of his jeans, could feel the deep ache in the pit of his stomach as you guided his hands towards the zip of your dress. He was shaking as he helped you remove your clothes, the sight of your body setting his senses on fire. He pulled you into him, his hands exploring the delicate curve of your breasts, his fingers gently pinching your nipples as you moaned softly against his touch.

“I need to taste you,” he growled, pushing you down into your mattress as he slid your underwear down over your thighs. You were already soaking wet for him as his fingers explored you, his thumb tracing light circles over your clit. you bucked your hips, your eyes rolling back as his tongue replaced his fingers, tracing slow, delicious patterns against you. you had so much pent-up stress, and Gi-Hun was dying to release it. His tongue and fingers worked together, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. You tasted like heaven, your tight wet walls gripping his digits as you came for him with a shuddering sob.

You were so desperate for him, so needy as you pulled his lips down to meet yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, could feel his urgency for you in his kisses. You helped him remove his jeans, pushing him down against the mattress. You’d spent so many sleepless nights wondering what he would feel like to be with Gi-Hun, but nothing could match up to reality.

You cried out in unison as you lowered yourself onto him, his hands tightly gripping your hips as you moved against him. you were so wet for him, so tight and Gi-Hun found himself dangerously close to losing control already. You were so beautiful as you fucked him, your moans so loud and unabashed as your bodies moved in perfect sync. He directed your hand down to your clit, watching you pleasure yourself as you rode him. you were so confident, so sure of yourself and Gi-Hun was desperate to see more of this side of you. You could feel him getting close, could feel his thighs shaking as he neared the edge. His eyes were glued to you, to the way your index finger circled your clit, the way your head lolled back as you took every inch of him inside your tight core. He couldn’t hold anymore, a shuddering groan reverberating off the walls as he came, spilling every last drop of himself inside of you.

He stayed with you that night, tangled up in your sheets as you explored each other. There would be time to talk tomorrow, time to figure out what this was between you. In the morning, Gi-Hun would use words to tell you how you made him feel, but tonight, tonight he would let his body do all the talking.

[alice-driver]

Luke Castellan x fem!reader

Don’t Tell Me No

Summary: No matter what you ask of Luke, he’ll always do it because he simply can’t say no to you, “his best friend.” Friends-to-lovers, happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Specifications: Content is for all audiences. The reader has no physical characteristics, and their cabin is not specified in the story to make it easier for the reader to identify with the character. Thank you.

I don’t speak English, so there might be grammatical errors here, sorry :(

(Let me know if you notice anything, and I’ll fix it.)

~~~~~~~~~~~

To everyone at Camp Half-Blood, it was obvious that Luke and you weren’t just friends, but whenever someone asked about your relationship, you both denied it, insisting you were “just friends.” To everyone else, your mutual feelings were crystal clear—except to you two.

This was reinforced by the way Luke treated you. Whatever you asked, he never said no. Why would he? Why would he refuse when you were his everything? Maybe he spoiled you too much, but who cared? If you asked for the moon, he’d pull it down from the sky and hand it to you without hesitation. Maybe that’s why you always asked him for so much. Every day, without fail, you’d ask him for something—a favor, sometimes several in one day—and he never refused. No matter the circumstances, he’d always say yes because you were his world. You knew this, which is why you took advantage of it—not just to spend time with him, but because you wanted to feel loved by him. And you were, but you needed constant affirmation.

“Luke! Carry me to my cabin,” you demanded one evening. He’d had a long, tiring day—something you didn’t know—but he didn’t mind. It was you, after all, and he’d do anything for you. Without a second thought, he scooped you up into his arms like a princess.

As he walked toward your cabin, you gently swung your feet back and forth, played with the short hair on the back of his neck, and planted soft kisses on his skin. It was normal for you two, the “best friends.” To Luke, it still gave him the same nerves it had the first time. He wished those moments could last forever, but soon you arrived at your cabin.

“We’re here. Sweet dreams, princess,” he said softly as he set you down carefully, as if you were something fragile. His calm, steady voice sounded perfect against the quiet of the camp at night.

You smiled as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You loved when he did things like that; it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Rest well, Luke,” you replied. Your smile was like the sweetest honey to Luke’s heart. It was the reason behind his special treatment of you. Every time he gave you something, he’d receive that smile in return, and it made his chest feel warm. He felt special, knowing he was the only one who could make you smile like that.

The next day, you spent most of your time without seeing Luke, which soured your mood. You finished the tasks you’d been assigned, but none of them overlapped with his.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that you finally spotted him from afar. Triumphant, you grabbed your tray and made your way over to him with an excuse ready.

“Luke, give me your grapes. They look sweeter than mine.” Without hesitation, he reached for his plate to give them to you, but Chris interrupted.

“Why should he give them to you?”

You’d never been questioned before, and the situation felt horrible and embarrassing. It seemed like Chris had said it loud enough for the entire camp to hear. You didn’t know what to say or do. Chris had never interfered between you and Luke before.

“You don’t want to, Luke?” Your voice came out as a soft, nervous whisper as you looked to him for reassurance. Luke, meanwhile, stared angrily at Chris.

You’d never stopped to think if Luke was okay with everything you asked of him.

“Shut up, Chris,” Luke snapped before swapping his grapes for yours and placing them on your tray. His heart nearly broke when he saw the sad look on your face. He’d never do anything to upset you. All he wanted was to make you happy.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Enjoy the grapes,” he said in the same soft, understanding tone he always used with you. His reassuring smile told you everything was fine.

“Thank you, Luke.” His nickname for you felt comforting, and you managed a small smile before rolling your eyes at Chris, who wasn’t pleased to see you getting your way. You turned and went back to your cabin’s table.

Once Luke was sure you were seated and eating, he turned to Chris, furious at how he’d treated you.

“What’s your problem? Why’d you talk to her like that?”

“Don’t you see it? She just treats you like her servant.”

Luke thought carefully before responding. “And so what if she does?”

Chris stared at him in shock. He knew Luke was a lost cause.

The conversation continued, with Chris trying to reason with him—a task Luke didn’t appreciate.

Taking a deep breath, Luke replied, “Look, Chris, if I wanted to say no, I would. But I don’t want to.”

“You’re a fool in love,” Chris said, shaking his head.

Luke tried to hide his blush, clearing his throat before responding, “In love? No, she’s just my—”

“Yeah, yeah, your best friend. I’ve heard it a thousand times. You’re blind, man,” Chris interrupted.

Chris’s words planted a seed of doubt in Luke’s mind, though he already knew the answer.

He was in love with you.

After lunch, you searched the camp for Luke, but he was nowhere to be found. You began to feel insecure, wondering if your requests had finally bothered him.

You spent the rest of the day finishing your tasks with little enthusiasm. Your mind was swirling with questions: “What if he doesn’t want me anymore?” or “Does he hate me now?”

Luke, meanwhile, spent his day distracted, thinking of you. His questions were different: “How can I tell her how I feel?” and “Does she feel the same way?”

There was supposed to be a campfire that evening, but you had no energy to attend. Your siblings tried to convince you to go, but you declined, and they didn’t push further.

Luke had made up his mind to confess his feelings that night. But when he didn’t see you at the campfire, he grew worried. After learning from your siblings that you’d stayed in your cabin, he quickly headed there.

You were lying on your bed, having taken advantage of the solitude to shower and change into your pajamas. Wrapped in a blanket, your legs were curled beneath you as your head rested on your knees. You were starting to feel sleepy, your damp hair sticking slightly to your skin in the warm night air.

Hearing a knock at the door, you assumed it was one of your siblings. Groggy, you got up, wrapped your blanket around your shoulders, slipped on your slippers, and opened the door without checking who it was. Then you returned to your bed.

Luke stood at the door, surprised by your indifference to his presence. Summoning his courage, he softly called your name, his voice louder than he’d intended in the silent room.

Hearing his voice, you quickly get up, making yourself dizzy with the sudden motion. Luke noticed immediately and hurried to your side. You sat back down on your bed, and he followed suit.

“I didn’t realize it was you. Sorry, I was falling asleep,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper after hours of silence. Luke found it amusing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, but I was worried when I didn’t see you at the campfire,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“I just didn’t feel like going,” you replied, unable to hide a smile at his gentle gesture.

“Why not? You usually love those events,” he said, then continued before you could respond, “It’s when we get to spend the most time together.”

He was right. Between training, chores, and duties, the campfires were when you could truly be together. His words made you feel guilty.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, his tone kind as he softly stroked your hair. “I just thought you’d be there. Without you, it wasn’t fun,” he confessed.

His admission surprised you, and your cheeks turned pink.

“I’m sure you could have fun with Chris,” you teased. Luke chuckled.

“Chris isn’t fun.” This made you laugh.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” you said.

“He’s just like that. He doesn’t understand,” Luke replied. You looked at him, confused. Noticing this, he took your hand in his.

“Doesn’t understand what?” you asked. Luke had been hoping you’d ask. He took a deep breath, carefully choosing his words.

“He doesn’t understand…” He paused, nerves overwhelming him. “He doesn’t understand that I’d do anything for you because…” This was harder than he’d thought.

“Because?” you prompted, though deep down, you already knew the answer.

“Because you’re everything to me,” he said, adding your name. You’d never liked the sound of your name as much as you did in that moment, spoken by him. “I like you,” he admitted.

You didn’t know what to say, but actions spoke louder than words. You moved closer, placing a hand on his cheek before pressing a soft, slow kiss to his lips. Though the kiss was brief, it told him everything he needed to know.

“I like you too, Luke,” you whispered, your faces still inches apart. Both of you were blushing, looking like the love-struck fools you truly were.

“I feel so silly now. I thought you hated me because I always ask you for so much,” you confessed, embarrassed. His hands never left yours, keeping you close.

“Hate you? How could I? You’re my everything. I’d never say no to you, and I’d do anything you asked if it meant seeing you happy.”

This time, it was Luke who leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, tender kiss that lasted much longer than the first.

When you finally pulled away, you asked him something you’d wanted to for a long time.

“Luke, will you be my boyfriend?” Your question caught him off guard, but he couldn’t deny the joy it brought him.

“Yes, princess” he said, both of you laughing as he brought your hands to his lips kissing with a romantic tenderness.

“Luke, kiss me.”

“I could never say no to you,” he replied, cupping your face in his hands before giving you the most romantic, heartfelt kiss you could imagine.

The next day, you two were even more affectionate than usual, making it obvious you’d finally taken the leap.

“Finally, man?” Chris approached Luke, asking the question everyone wanted to know.

“Finally. We’re dating,” Luke replied confidently, happiness radiating from him as he watched you from across the camp.

“See? All you needed was a little push,” Chris teased.

Maybe Chris didn’t dislike you as much as you thought.

[astoryofsiren]

new world | chapter 7

Pairing: Ot8 Ateez x reader AU: fantasy AU | stranger -> mates Summary: A tragic accident left you unable to use your wings and, with that, claimed your father's life, leaving you in the care of your noble uncle. In Hala, a house of eight kingdoms, each boasting its own wonders, you never imagined that amidst the pain, you would also fall—this time, in love. Word Count: 1.2k | 5 minutes A/n: SORRY FOR THE LONG UPDATE! I OFFICIALLY TURNED 20 this week!!! that's why i didn't update this past week. i will be gone for a week because i will be going abroad to travel! please wish that i will arrive safely! and chapter 8 will come soon after! Warning: none that i know of

There was something raw in his voice, something unyielding, like an oath carved into stone. His words pressed into you, heavy yet comforting, leaving no room for doubt. You believed him—you couldn’t not believe him—because Yunho was not a man who made promises he couldn’t keep. The air between you thickened, charged with a weight you didn’t know how to carry, the pendant on your chest suddenly feeling less like a gift and more like a lifeline.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as you stared at him, the golden-brown of his eyes glowing softly in the dimming light. His presence was overwhelming, like a shield and a storm all at once, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

“you can’t say things like that..” you whispered, though your voice wavered, betraying the ache in your chest.

“what I say are the truth.”

His voice was low, deliberate-as though the words were a vow only you were meant to hear.

The faintest curve of his lips appeared, a ghost of a smile, as though he knew the effect his words had on you. For just a second, the tension cracked, and you let out a shaky breath, followed by the smallest, disbelieving laugh—soft and barely audible, but enough to ripple through the air.

“My uncle will never let me hear the end of this.”

Yunho’s brow furrowed faintly. “Your uncle?”

You laughed softly, though the sound carried more nerves than amusement. “He’s been teasing me endlessly about some apprentice in Caius. He thinks I’d leave the outskirts if I fell in love.”

Yunho’s expression darkened slightly, the faintest flicker of something sharp passing across his face. “And what do you think of that idea?”

You glanced at him, caught off guard by the quiet edge in his voice. “I told him no,” you admitted softly. “I don’t want to go back to the capital. Not after my parents…”

Your voice trailed off, the thought lingering heavy in the air. Yunho’s gaze softened, his golden-brown eyes holding yours with a quiet understanding. “I understand.”

You looked down at the pendant again, the jewel pressing coolly against your chest as your fingers traced its edges. “The outskirts are home now. It’s quiet here. Safe.”

Yunho’s voice broke the silence, gentle but carrying a quiet weight. “And if you were to leave the outskirts—would that be so bad? Perhaps with a gentleman?”

Your heart stuttered, the quiet question threading itself into the silence between you, the quiet hanging heavy between you as the meaning of his words settled like a stone in your chest. Slowly, you turned to face him, your breath catching at the way his gaze held yours—steady, golden, and far too close.

“No,” you said finally, voice soft but certain. “I don’t think it would.”

Something shifted in Yunho’s expression—a soft, almost relieved smile that eased the sharp lines of his face.For a long moment, neither of you moved, the space between you charged with something unspoken—something that pulled at you like gravity. You could feel the warmth of his hand even though he wasn’t touching you, the air between you so still that even the faintest movement might shatter it.

You swallowed, your pulse fluttering wildly. “Thank you…for the pendent”

The words felt insufficient, too small to contain the moment.

Yunho’s gaze held yours, steady and unwavering, as though he was searching for something—an answer you didn’t yet know how to give. Slowly, his hand lifted, his knuckles brushing faintly against your cheek. The touch was feather-light, as though he wasn’t sure he had the right, but the warmth of it sent a tremor through you, your breath catching in your throat.

The silence around you deepened, the distant hum of the wind fading into nothingness. It was just the two of you, the world narrowing to the space between his hand and your skin, to the way his golden-brown eyes softened as they lingered on you.

Your heart pounded, loud and insistent, each beat echoing like thunder in your ears. He was close now—close enough that you could feel the faint warmth of his breath against your lips, sending shivers trailing down your spine. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, as though any sudden motion would break the fragile tension holding the moment together.

Yunho’s thumb brushed against your cheek, the touch deliberate but so achingly gentle it nearly undid you. His gaze dipped, lingering at your lips for just a heartbeat too long before flicking back up to meet your eyes.

You couldn’t breathe.

“Yunho…” you whispered, though you didn’t know what you meant to say.

His hand stilled, his thumb hesitating just below your jaw, as though holding you there, as though asking a silent question neither of you dared to voice aloud. For one suspended moment, you thought he might kiss you—his lips just a breath away, the space between you humming with electricity.

so close.

But then, he pulled back, so slowly it felt like a quiet unraveling. His hand fell away, leaving your skin cold and aching for the touch that had been there just a moment before. The absence of it sent a shiver through you, one that had nothing to do with the wind sweeping across the hills.

Yunho leaned back slightly, his expression carefully composed, though something lingered in his eyes—something unspoken but undeniably there. His gaze shifted to the horizon, as though to steady himself.

“We should head back before the wind picks up.”

You exhaled shakily, the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding slipping past your lips in a quiet rush. You nodded mutely, your heart still hammering in your chest as you turned away, focusing on gathering your things.

But even as you mounted your horse, your fingers clumsy against the reins, the moment lingered—like the phantom warmth of Yunho’s touch on your skin, like the way his eyes had dipped to your lips, only to pull away.

You didn’t dare look back at him right away, afraid of what you might see, but you could feel his gaze on you still—trailing after you like a shadow, heavy with the weight of what almost was.

And as the wind swept around you, tugging at your cloak and hair, you couldn’t stop your thoughts from lingering on the space between his hand and yours, on the closeness of his lips. The pendant pressed cool and heavy against your collarbone, a quiet weight that settled deeper than it should have.

The cold lingered there—where his touch had been—like a whisper of something unspoken, a promise carried on the wind. A promise that he would come back.

And somehow, you believed it.

Masterlist

six | eight

Taglist (CLOSED):

@pinkpearlstar @deltamoon666 @kyra1205 @hecateslittlewitchlingdumplingsyum @caratiny-latte @seongwars @halloweenbyphoebebridgers @angelqueendom

@ffenjoyerdazme @lostxxgirl @xh01bri @neemaxx @furfoxsake22 @Thejentheredhead @soulphoenix1618 @pixie0627

@laurtiny112 @innocygnet @the-first-mate @miniverse-zen @katyeongs @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @sweetmoonlight9 @staytinyluv @bluesiebirdie @kaqua @ateezaddict24 @bamdoe @kandy108 @pixie0627 @bunnii-dolls @kheartost @xlilehx @lalelol @Tiny2018 @salnovna @roryy95 @fairylover68 @meowmeeps @awkward-fucking-thing @blackandgreenandblue @moniesmoon @skteezcursed

[concretejunglefm]

i need to share w someone who will understand.

making sub!noah touch himself for you, and not just that—edging. being in the same room as that? 😮‍💨 long inked fingers teasing his

you could also have him send you proof when he’s on tour :3

- @somebodyels3

KELS WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? also thank you because now i can't unthink this.

Pairing: sub!Noah Sebastian x dom f!reader.

CW: smut including masturbation, anal fingering (m receiving), mention of toy use, dirty talk, edging and orgasm denial.

Names: Good boy, Sweet boy, Puppy, Miss (reader), brief mommy mention from reader.

NSFW under the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

SWEET BOY: Please, Miss. I can't hold out any longer. Just let me stroke it, please?

A wicked grin spread across your features as you read over the text. The entire day had been spent sending Noah the most raunchy texts and voice notes you could while he was away on tour, purposely working him up, aware that he couldn't touch himself without your say or it resulting in a punishment. Of course, he could always touch himself and lie about that to you, but you had him trained enough to be the best good boy for you. You knew that his guilt of doing something like that wouldn't last too long and he'd break and confess, if only to embrace a punishment or seek one because you knew that he always wanted to be the best for you. Even in his bratty moods, he did.

YOU: Soon. You're such an eager puppy.

At the notification flashing up in response, you let out a giggle when it's a voice message of him groaning, audibly frustrated.

Pressing down on the microphone button, you tsk into the phone before your lips curl into a wider smirk with your words. "You want to be a good boy for me, don't you? You're so brave and strong trying to hold back for me. So tell me, sweet boy. Tell me how you're thinking about me late at night when you’re all alone—touching yourself to the thought of me."

Barely seconds pass before Noah responds with another voice note. "Mmm, yes, Miss. I...I want to be a good boy for you. Fuck. I think about you all the time. I can't stop wanting to touch myself when I think of you."

You respond with a single text.

YOU: Then show me.

Instead of waiting for him to respond, you FaceTime him, seeing his flustered face fill up your screen as he answers. "Are you going to touch yourself for me like a good boy?" You tilt your head and catch the way his voice chokes in his throat with the simple word of 'yes'.

"Good boy. Set me up so I can see you." You instruct him, and he follows, propping the phone up on the nearby nightstand, facing it towards the bed to capture everything.

You know that he only has the hotel room to himself for a short period of time. Whoever he was sharing with has probably gone for long enough, or he would've made some suggestion for you to call back and continue your game another time.

Although right now you can see it in the glazed-over look in his eye, he was completely yours and in the submissive headspace you love to push him into.

You softly coo praises at him, calling him all of the sweetest things while he undresses himself for you and when you finally catch sight of his hard cock in his grasp, you let out a gasp of your own.

"Oh my... have I done that to you?" Even though the camera you can see the way it twitches and pulses in his grasp, the tip is red and already leaking precum. He looks about ready to burst, and now you wish you were there to enjoy him properly.

"Take your hand away." You instruct him, and you catch the whine which causes you to click your tongue with a warning. You may be miles apart, but that won't prevent you from finding a suitable punishment to carry out on him. "I don't want you touching there. Not yet. You know where I want you to touch yourself, don't you, sweet boy?"

"h...here, Miss?" You watch the way his thighs spread wider as he leans back against the pillows stacked behind for him to lean against, and his hands begin to inch up along his thighs, his fingers teasingly exploring the space between them, stroking the space along his taint which you love to taunt him with using any number of toys when you're together.

"Yes... that's my good boy. You know just how mommy loves to touch you." Your own breath is picking up now, feeling the dull ache between your thighs growing, but you're too focused on watching to seek your own relief, not when you'll be able to use this to replay on later.

"Have you got—oh, you are a good puppy." You don't even need to remind him about the lube, seeing him use one hand to flick open the lid and squirt some, squeezing hard enough it causes a slight mess as it covers both his hole and fingers.

"Just gentle now. Nice and slow for me." You urge him on, hearing the way his sounds are becoming more choked with the slow teasing of his finger against his hole.

"Miss, please." You love listening to him beg like this when you're not there, like your own personal slutty puppy who's seeking your approval for him to touch and fuck himself. "I need you to touch me. I need you so desperately." You can hear it in his tone and it makes you shift, rubbing your thighs together. God, how you wish you were with him.

"Do you have your toy with you?"

"I do! I do!" He's so eager and ready, holding his toy up proudly, the small plug you bought for him as an experiment which became something of a beloved choice for him to use, especially when all he wanted was to be filled by you. "Can I please use it, Miss? Please? I need to feel you in me."

How can you deny him when he's like this? Begging and spreading himself for you. You watch how he works his fingers slowly inside, never pushing too deep without your instruction and you continue to give it to him, allowing for him to take the toy and watching with your own bated breath as his greedy hole swallows it. "You're such a greedy little puppy." You let out with your breath, listening to the sweet whines and moans he makes, pleading for more, needing more as his other hand ghosts along his cock before pulling away with every tongue lashing you give him about it.

"Is my puppy nice and full now?"

"Y-y…yes, Miss." He's struggling and he's so on edge that you're sure he will end up cumming over himself without any further assistance, a thought which is arguably hot, though right now you can't help but love the idea of making him suffer a little longer by denying him of what he really wants; an orgasm.

"Good boy. Now you're going to sleep like this, nice and full, and you're not allowed to cum tonight. I want you to call me back in the morning and show me how hard your cock is and what a mess you've made during the night because you're so needy." There's a sickly, saccharine tone in your voice as you taunt him, aware that he's already struggling, and you'll be surprised if he even makes it to morning before attempting to call you or failing altogether and giving you the guilt look he always has when he struggles to hold out. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss. I understand." You see the pout forming across his face, and you wish that you could come and kiss it away for him. Even if he is your submissive in this moment, you hate to see him in such a pouty state; it's one of the few things he can do which really pulls on your heartstrings, even in these moments.

"That's Mommy’s good boy." You say as you blow him a kiss before hanging up. 

When she hangs up, Noah's left whimpering, his hole squeezing tight around the plug while his cock twitches, left untouched and aching with the need to cum. From across the room, the voice of his fellow bandmate draws his attention as he smugly says. "You heard her. No cumming for you tonight." 

[miidnlght]

Okay hear me out!What if the reader (Yhwach's daugther) had both Jugram and Hubert as her bodyguards!Would they fight over who is better at their job?

(What is my taste in man)

Your taste in men is amazing 🗣️

Jugram is the cold and stern second in command, Hubert is the cocky royal guard I mean what's the worse that can happen expect these two having staring matches all day, Hubert being the one provoking them with that shit eating grin of his.

Hubert likes to talk shit about practically everyone and he definitely gossips with you, but when Jugram also happens to hear him trash talking someone in front of you, get ready for a lecture of why you shouldn’t endulge in such things and of course he has a scolding session with Hubert.

Anytime Hubert gets a little to close to you like putting an arm around your shoulders, something little like that, Jugram would be on his ass, telling him he shouldn't treat the princess like a common person and that he should have some respect. Hubert would say something like "let lose" or "you act like a old man" only making the situation worse.

With time they'd develop a soft spot for you and try to not clash as much, key word try.

One time Jugram compliment you "you look lovely today, princess" and of course you thanked him and smiled, Hubert however didn't like your smile directed at him, so he stepped it up saying "you always look lovely, princess." Jugram side eyed him "Yes...I agree." But Hubert added "your hair looks beautiful". Jugram was feeling a little childish today so he also added "your uniform looks pretty" "its the same uniform everyone has??" "Yes but it looks nicer on her then on...certain people..." Yeah, good luck trying to stop Hubert from jumping Jugo.

I really think Yhwach appointed them as your bodyguards so you can get some friends anddd for his own entertainment as well. And they do cure your loneliness as a princess so you're thankful for that but what you don't know is that you genuinely made them closer and they can at least stand each other for now.

I wish I knew how to write >_<

[marinettesaltprompts]

Selfish Wishing

TLDR: Canon Divergence; Marinette ends up making the wish. She wakes up in a world where she lives alone in New York, isn't Ladybug, and still isn't dating Adrien!! When she decides to check her phone to see what's going on in Paris, she sees that more changed than she realized. She thought this was her wish, her dream come true, so why did it feel like, besides the whole New York thing, nothing changed??

Marinette knew the dangers of making the wish. That there would be a cost. That Chat Noir trusted her to use his miraculous to end Monarch.

But...she can't help but want to make a wish herself.

Rewrite the universe to be how she wanted.

She'd have loyal friends who backed her up no matter what.

She'd be less clumsy and late to things.

She'd be amongst the youngest fashion designers known.

She'd have everything her way.

No Chloe or Lila in her way.

No Chat Noir to coddle.

No Monarch to fight.

The next moment went by quickly, before she could stop herself, before Plagg and Tikki could talk her out of it, she did it.

She made her wish.

"I wish...I wish to live the life I want!! The life of a normal girl who had her dream come true!!!"

The world goes dark and with it, Marinette collapses.

-----------------

Marinette groans as she wakes up. She can't remember going to sleep.

As she wakes up more, she panics. This isn't her room. Her earrings are gone. She's...not in Paris??

Confused, Marinette grabs her phone.

She spends the next hour scrolling and scrolling as what happened returns to her. She made the wish, but she thought she would be in Paris, with her family and friends and Adrien...

A sigh. More scrolling.

Her parents posted something recently about closing the bakery at a certain date in order to visit Marinette in New York, thanking the Style Queen for helping her reach her dreams.

The Ladyblog isn't around, rather the MiracuLog was being run. And it wasn't being run Alya, but... Adrien and Felix?!

She went to the blog's bio, which simply said: Welcome to the MiracuLog!! We're here to keep you informed on all things MIRACULOUS!! From our heroes, Carmine and Jinx, to our big bad, and self proclaimed king, Emperor!!

This blog is run by me and my older twin brother!! Thank you for supporting us, and we will continue to keep you updated!! - Adrien GdV :3

Marinette blinked and looked through the blog.

She recognized some Akumas, but not all of them. Lady Wifi, Evillustrator, Princess Fragrance, Dark Cupid were amongst the ones she recognized.

But...who was Blood Beetle? Phantom? Miss Anonymous? Porcelain Doll? Puppeteer? Scary Godmother? Lilith?

She didn't recognize any of them, and there were no names attached!! How was she supposed to know who was akumatized if their names aren't there?!

Marinette looked at an earlier Q&A post, which answered her own question.

Hi, Adrien! Hi, Felix! I wanted to know why you don't name people who were akumatized!! Don't you think it'd be better if we knew in case they get akumatized again? Thank you for answering!! -inamedmykittenjinx

Hello!! While, yes, it might be better, I don't believe we should put that onto anyone's shoulders. I want everyone to go by as normally as they can without someone leading them to this blog just to ask them about their akumatization. We all deserve some privacy. - adrien.

What my brother means is, we think it could do more damage if we out akuma victims. I say this as someone who's been akumatized before. I wish for no one to know who I was as an akuma. Remember, anyone can be akumatized. Anyone. Gender, age, citizen or tourist, none of that matters to Emperor. We don't need the reminder that we got taken advantage of by that man. - felix

thank you for answering!! I think I understand. some akumas have seemed to be pretty young, so I can see why you decided to keep Akuma victims anonymous. -inamedmykittenjinx

No problem!! :) Sometimes people will still recognize the akumatized victim and spam our inbox with their name and job or school and other info that we just don't need. It's why we don't accept anonymous questions and submissions anymore. - adrien

PEOPLE ARE DOXXING AKUMA VICTIMS?! -carminered98

Why?? Do people not have anything better to do??? -emperorshouldofusedmonarchtbh

like, I get it if the akuma victim is still an asshole. but the majority of akuma victims are people who lost their jobs, are or were grieving, kids who've been bullied, etc. It makes me so mad!!! -emperorshouldofusedmonarchtbh

Marinette rolled her eyes as she moved past the thread. Back when she was Ladybug, no one cared about privacy. It was stupid of Adrien and Felix to prioritize the akumas anonymity. It would be better to just name them.

She eventually saw a post dedicated to Carmine and Jinx.

She had no idea who they were.

Carmine was the current ladybug. He was a male with deep red, almost black, hair. His outfit reminded her somewhat of Mister Bug's. But that might just because that's the only male ladybug costume she's seen.

Jinx was the current black cat. She was a female. Her hair was long and in a low ponytail. Her costume didn't look like hers when she was Lady Noire or like Kitty Noire's.

She was surprised to read that the two knew each others identity and were still going strong as a team. They were family as well.

Why would they do that?? Did Master Fu know?! So what if they're family!! If she were the Guardian still, she'd take their miraculous.

Frustrated, Marinette kept scrolling.

The temp. heroes caught her eyes.

They were...different. They weren't her friends. Or maybe they were, but she can't tell??

Lupine, Athena, Alopex, who are these people??

She quickly left the blog, not wanting to see anymore.

-----------------

Marinette groaned as more and more of her designs were sent back to her. Audrey was a strict boss. Her notes about Marinette's designs stung.

Especially when she sees the woman expressing her disappointment because Marinette had been so good.

She was trying!! Her designs were liked in her old world. She was MDC!!! But no one cares about MDC here.

Sighing, Marinette pulled her phone out. Maybe something in Paris would inspire her?

She checks her socials. Nothing.

She had sent friend requests to her old friends, but none of them had accepted her yet.

Some, like Luka and Marc, politely asked her to not send a request. They were only accepting friend requests from people they knew in person.

She thought things would be different.

She thought she'd still have her friends.

That she'd be home.

That she'd be Adrien's girlfriend.

She wanted her dream to come true.

She glared at her phone, the MiracuLog open and staring back at her.

What happened?? Was her wish not specific enough???

She asked around, but no one's heard of Gabriel Agreste. When she looked him up, nothing came up. He didn't exist. It would explain why Adrien is a Graham de Vanilly and not an Agreste.

When she stalked looked through Adrien's socials, she saw that he had a hobby in photography, sometimes his posts had two images. One of a photo he took and the other of a sketch made by his girlfriend, Kagami.

It wasn't fair!! In both worlds, Adrien dates Kagami. And unlike the last one, here they're still dating.

She hates that the two look happy and in love. That Kagami is in her rightful spot. She should have been next to him, not her!!

To make things worse, she also checked out Luka's socials, which is where she learned he was dating Felix. Of all people, he chooses Felix?!

What about her??? She was nice when she sent sent a friend request. She'd eventually visit Paris again.

It's not fair!!

-----------------

Marinette didn't know where things went wrong.

Was her wish not specific enough?? Did it not work??

She tried so hard to make things go her way.

Her designs were rejected.

She was kept back in class and berated.

She had no friends in either school or work.

People said she changed but she didn't!!

Why??

Why did the wish give her this??

She just wanted everything she always wanted...

Additional Info:

• Carmine is Luka and Jinx is Juleka. Master Fu definitely knows they know each other. He doesn't mind that much because he knows he chose siblings. Not his intention tbh, but they work well together.

• Lupine is Adrien with the bee, Athena is the name of the horse miraculous user, haven't decided who yet, might go with Sabrina??, and Alopex is the fox miraculous user and I'm leaning towards Nathaniel for that (:

• One of the things that changes in this is Adrien and Felix's relationship. Rather than being cousins, the boys are twins. Still sentimonsters, but Emilie made both of them. To this day, the peacock miraculous and the Grimoire is still in their possession.

• Emperor is Colt Fathom in this world. He wants to use the wish to ensure Amelie marries him because she left him before he could even propose, claiming he was possessive and not the man she wanted to marry.

• Colt got the butterfly miraculous from a vendor who found it. He was going to gift it to Amelie but she ended up leaving him. He was going to chuck the brooch into the Siene when Nooroo was finally released. When he learned about the miraculous, he decided to make his wish come true.

• Emelie and "Gabriel" never met. Emilie spent most of her time caring for her sister or talking with her friends, André and Nathalie.

• As a result of getting the life she wants, Gabriel ends up losing the life he had. Rather than be a rich and famous fashion designer that's secretly a villain, he's still Gabi Grassette. He ends up as a homeless man who lost everything. He's not really relevant here, so....¯\_(ツ)_/¯

• Because part of her dream is to get with Adrien Agreste, the model, and how the wish ended up for Marinette, she doesn't end up with him.

• The MiracuLog is run by Adrien and Felix. Adrien takes photos and captures footage, while Felix writes and edits. The two strive to keep their blog safe for everyone. And unlike the Ladyblog, the MiracuLog focuses on all the miraculous and it's users. They don't chase after Carmine and/or Jinx and demand interviews, nor do they take interviews with anyone unless they specifically think it would be benificial, such as interviewing a therapist for advice on how to handle stress and anxiety, or the mayor about the free therapy for akuma victims where they can come in and talk to someone, with the reassurance they won't be outed.

• Because they got so many messages doxxing people who were Akumatized, the twins changed their system to only accept official accounts on their blog. It doesn't stop it, but it becomes less of a hassle. Accounts that continue doing it get a warning, if they continue they get suspended, and if they still continue their account gets blacklisted and blocked, if it isn't outright deleted.

• A lot of Marinette's views about akumas puts a wall between her and her old "friends." She's used to things being different, so them doing things such as keeping akumas real names private, not wanting to discover who Carmine and Jinx are, raising money in order to help akuma victims, etc., feels wrong. And when she tries to say so, she's told to back off and stay in her lane.

• While she does have a job as an intern for Audrey, she also goes to school in NY, very specifically a fashion school.

• As much as I would have liked a more dramatic take on Marinette's wish ending badly, I like the idea of "everything remained just about the same but here's what's different" just as much.

Marinette becomes a normal girl who got the opportunity she always wanted and is living in NY as the Style Queen's intern.

Audrey noticed her but she never noticed Gabi, so Gabriel Agreste doesn't exist.

Because Gabriel Agreste doesn't exist, Adrien was made alongside Felix by Emilie who is a single mother with Amelie as their aunt and Nathalie as a potential second mom. Had Gabriel Agreste still exhisted, her wish of dating Adrien would have come true.

• I mean, diverging from this prompt, ^ that relationship would have ended quickly. The wish wouldn't make Adrien her boyfriend and have him stay her boyfriend. And her new personality and obsessive behavior would be a sign to end things.

• Marinette, technically, did have friends in NY (such as Jessica and Zoe). But her sudden change in personality pushed them away. She was becoming obsessed with Paris, Adrien and the Parisian heroes, and they wanted their old friend who complained about work, but also gushed about how Audrey was considering helping her debut as a fashion designer, back. This isn't the Marinette they know.

This could have been better, but I had to get the idea out of my head, so if it's confusing, sorry? (^^;

[em1989ts]

five and reader know they’re falling for each other and they’re both super touch/love starved but also don’t know how to demonstrate and give it to each other ? basically two awkward losers in love

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

word count: 2.5k

masterlist

summary: you and five have always been professional, even though you're the closest partners the commission has even seen. once the two of you go back to 2019, you find out how to ease yourselves into the relationship you both know is just right

author's note: thank you thank you thank you sm for this request, i literally just saw it about three hours ago and it gave me immediate inspiration. this might not be super exact to what you were hoping for but i did my best to stick with it!

not proofread

You had Five had always been far too professional for your own good. 

The two of you first met when the Handler brought you both out of the apocalypse and shoved you into neatly steamed suits to begin your brand new lives at the Commission. 

You and Five were the only two people left alive after the world had combusted in 2019, yet neither of you had managed to bump into the other while you wandered around for forty five years.

Initially, there wasn't any trust between the two of you, as well as curiosity trapped in private thought bubbles. Both of you wondered what the other’s experience was like. 

Did they find it nice to have the world to themself? 

Did they have an easier time? 

Did they miss anybody? 

When the Handler officially made you two partners and sent the two of you off on your very first assignment together, it was definitely awkward. So many questions, so little bravery to make them heard. 

You wanted to ask him. You wanted to be friendly. Of course, the apocalypse life took a toll on you, so maybe you could bond over your unfortunately mutual experience.

But he looked so stern, so reclusive, so unwelcoming. 

He thought the same about you, with your shoulders turned in and furrowed brow. He thought you just preferred to be private. He assumed if you spoke about your past you would freeze or shut down. He didn’t wish that upon you. 

During that assignment, the two of you had to wait in a parking lot for your target to arrive. The mark would be dropped off in a rideshare vehicle up to an office building. Neither of you knew what rideshare was but didn’t think it really mattered. 

As you waited in a rental provided by the commission, you didn’t have the radio to fill in the silence, you just sat and stared. 

Until you finally decided, what would be so bad? 

“Hi,” you turned and looked at him, giving him a wrinkly smile. 

“Hello?” he responded out of confusion. 

The two of you had indeed talked before, but only once, at your initial introduction, only shaking hands and exchanging names, 

“How are you,” you tried to further the conversation with friendliness before he decided it was worthless and ignored you. 

“I’m quite alright,” he nodded, still not smiling but he turned toward you more, seemingly interested in conversing. 

A good sign. 

“And you?” 

Your smile grew a bit wider, “I’m doing just fine.”

This kind of conversation might be more commonly heard in a classic American diner, by two old friends in their elderly years, about to order their early bird special. But on this rare occasion, it was being said by two elderly assassins, at the start of the most valuable partnership in all of time. 

~~~ 

For years, the commission has waited for a team like this. 

After the two of you returned from your debut assignment, nearly missing your mark as you were so thoroughly invested about discussing your shared accounts with twinkies and their expiration debacle, the two of you immediately requested another task, which the Handler was thrilled to hear. 

Once that task was completed, you received another, and another, until you and Five were so caught up in each other's lives you were almost the same person.

For once, the two of you found someone who could truly understand you. You always felt supported and valued in each other's company. 

Somedays, when the work got hard, the two of you would take a well deserved day or two off from work, learning about each other's interests and aspirations, refilling your coffee mugs as you talked your day away. 

Eventually, the two of you had come up with a plan to try and save the world. What was the point in having time travel powers and only using them once? 

Of course, the two of you were scared, but with the support from each other and years of experience and preparation, you had faith in yourselves.

So you took on that last assignment to Dallas, Texas, where you would confirm John F. Kennedy’s assassination. Five’s journal was filled to the brim with math equations, one of which was believed to be the correct one to bring you back to his family in 2019, giving you enough time to stop the apocalypse. 

The two of you mustered up as much of your energy as you could and combined it into a glowing blue portal, where you could see a group of people standing in a courtyard. 

As you and Five pushed through, you could feel everything change, your clothes felt looser as you fell to the ground. 

Sitting up gave your head a spin, but once your eyes focused, they landed on a boy. This boy had dark, messy hair, with the same green eyes as your beloved partner. 

“We did it!” you were so overjoyed and proud of yourselves that you tossed your arms around him and encapsulated him in a strong hug.

He returned the hug with just as much joy, never feeling so gratified by someone’s actions. 

Even though the two of you had never hugged before, it felt so right. 

“Does anyone else see little Number Five or is that just me?”

The voice snapped the two of you out of your moment as you both turned your heads to the group of adults, staring at the two teens huddled together in the mud.

You both looked back at each other, then down at the close distance between you, and muttered apologies as you both let go with a flush. He quickly stood up, lent a hand to assist you, and the two of you headed inside with a couple feet between you. 

~~~

You didn’t talk much to his family when you were downstairs, you mostly just watched Five as he explained with little patience everything he decided his family needed to know at the moment. He did gain some valuable information, the date was March 24th, 2019, giving you eight days to figure out a way to save the world. 

You were currently standing in the middle of his room, not entirely sure what to do. You didn’t want to touch or disturb anything, you knew how he likes his things a certain way, so you just stood there and waited for him to return. 

He suddenly blinked back, trying to keep the skirt, sweater vest, blazer, tie, socks, and shoes all from falling out of his arms. 

“The only clothes we have here that’ll fit us right now is the uniform,” he said as lied each item neatly on his bed for you. 

“They’re my sister’s but I’m sure she won’t mind you borrowing them,” he turned to face you. 

You had only seen what his younger self looked like in his file at the Commission. Initially, you hadn’t seen the resemblance between the bright, sophomoric, superpowered child and the tired, sarcastic, coffee-powered old man. But now, it’s almost as though you can see Five’s past through his eyes. That old grump you know and love hides behind those green irises. 

Wait love?

You were snapped out of your daze when you realized his eyes were staring right back in yours. 

“I’ll let you change in here, I’ll be just across the hall. We can meet in the hallway when we're done,” he said, cheeks a little pink and avoided eye contact. 

You nodded and he blinked out of the room, but before you started changing, you looked around, taking in the atmosphere. You had learned a lot about his life here in the academy, but being here felt a little unreal. His storytelling made you feel like you were there in his memories, it was nice to now see what his life was like. 

When you finished getting dressed, you quietly stepped into the hallway.

Unaware of your presence, you watched as Five conversed with one of his siblings. 

“So who was that? Your little girlfriend?” 

“No, she’s my partner,” Five scowled, his back away from you. 

“Oh, like your life partner! You’re married! Yay! Ring the church bells!” his sibling said excitedly, waving his hands in the air. 

Five face palmed and turned to you, wide eyed and fully red in the face at this point. 

“You must be Klaus,” you awkwardly started, not really sure how to enter the conversation. 

“Yes ma’am, welcome to the family,” he smirked as tugged you in for a big bear hug before releasing you and strutting off without another word. 

Of course the two of you had dealt with romantic implications before, but back then you two were mature adults and could handle it professionally. Now, you were prepubescent teens who turned pink at the mere thought of someone they liked. 

But two of you stood there, silently watching in his direction until he turned the corner. 

~~~ 

It had been well over 24 hours since you had gotten any sleep. 

Since you landed in 2019, you have met your partner’s entire family, gotten coffee, been shot at, tracked down the nonexistent owner of an eyeball, found Five’s old apocalypse friend, and got shot at even more. Only during the second shootout did you actually get injured.  

Now, you were both dragging yourselves up the stairs of the academy to his bedroom. Him carrying Delores the mannequin, a kind, sophisticated woman, under his arm with the other around you to keep you steady. He himself was far too tired to blink, though he tried so hard to muster up enough energy every time he heard you wince. 

You were exhausted to say the least. Blood seeped through your fingertips as you held your hand against the graze the bullet left in your shoulder. 

Once you made it to Five’s room, he quickly set Delores down on the floor as he led you to sit on his bed. As soon as he blinked away, you fell back from your upright position and closed your eyes, unable to bear another minute awake. 

When he returned, you could hear him run over to the bed and lean over you, grasping your face in his warm hands.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he pleaded, “Stay awake for me, please.”

You had lost a good amount of blood from the deep graze, but you knew you wouldn’t die. You just really needed some rest ever since Five decided it was better to keep moving than take on Vanya’s offer to stay the night. 

Once your dazed eyes opened and met his, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, unconsciously brushing his thumb against your cheek, before quickly moving back to the first aid kit he had grabbed and sorting through its contents, gathering all the materials he needed for your wound. 

He helped you sit back up so he could work. This wasn’t the first time one of you had to stitch up the other. In fact, it happened quite frequently as assassins. 

But it never felt like this. 

Usually you’d be making casual conversation, comfortable with the normality of the situation, and not thinking twice about it. This time however, neither of you spoke. He was focused on stitching you up as gently as possible, though he would catch you staring at him and watch as you looked away awkwardly. 

He smiled slightly as he worked. He had grown to care so much about you, but he was always worried he’d ruin what he had with you. Overtime, he had become so used to you being the only constant in his life. The only one he could trust to share things with. Overall, he enjoyed how he could be so comfortable around you, he never needed a guard up when he was with you, but he never knew if you felt the same. But something about now made him feel like he might’ve been onto something. 

“Hi,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. 

You looked up at him, only to see him finishing up your stitches with a knowing smile. 

“Hello,” you responded. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m better now,” you said, watching him as he carefully cut the string to your stitches. 

He carefully traced his finger over his work. 

“Tired?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” you yawned a bit, giving him a droopy smile. 

“Well, let’s get you to bed then,” he said as took off your shoes for you and placed them by the foot of his bed. 

After he helped you climb under the comforter, you waited for him to get ready to lay next to you but instead he stayed standing, with his hands tucked into his pockets.

“You can have my bed. I’ll just be across the hall,” he said, almost unsure as he made his way towards the door. 

“Wait.” 

He turned around expectantly, but you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say. 

Would it be weird if you asked him to stay?

“I mean, it’s your bed. I- I can’t just take it-” 

“No, no, it’s okay-” Five started. 

“We could just, I don’t know, share it?” 

No one moved. Eyes wide. Had you gone too far?

On assignments, you always had two beds when you were scheduled somewhere for more than one night. That’s just how it always was. The only time you ever came close to sleeping next to each other was when you had to spend the night in the back of a van, but that was a whole different story. 

You didn’t mean to insinuate anything, you just meant that you wouldn’t mind sleeping next to him. You felt safe with him and it would’ve comforted you to know he was with you. 

Five understood just how you felt, and climbed in right beside you without another word. 

Sharing a twin sized bed meant the two of you were very close with not much room to roll over without risk of plummeting off the side, which you almost did when you tried scooting over to give him more room to get comfortable. 

The other thing you could grab onto to save yourself from falling onto your back was him, as he also grabbed you to save you from falling. 

The momentum pulled you snug into his chest, which made the two of you nervously giggle before you realize just how much you missed being so close to someone. 

You felt it initially yesterday when you first hugged him. But now, the warm touch of another human was all you wanted to know. Subconsciously, you buried your head in his chest as he nestled his above your head. He hadn’t felt this safe in so many years. 

You whispered goodnight right before you drifted away to sleep, your breathing regulating to a pace, letting him feel your chest rise and fall against his. 

He kissed the top of your head, whispering goodnight into your hair, waiting a moment to test your slumber, before he whispered once more.

“I love you.” 

~~~

[ssweeterthanfiction]

So I just read your fic, My Angel, and first off beautiful work, I loved it. Second, if you are taking requests and you want an angsty one, what about the same content but Finnick hates or at least doesn't like the reader because she killed Annie in her games and so reader takes on more clients because they feel guilty about it all. I don't know if that's a good idea or not but it's been in my head for a while.🌻

oh my gosh this is actually so interesting. (also thank you so much!!! im so happy you loved it!!!)

i wish i hated you.

content warnings: trafficking of victors, implied S/A, mentions of death, self hatred, angst

The air was thick with the scent of perfume and expensive wine, and the room buzzed with the Capitol’s elite, all eager to mingle with the Victors like they were rare jewels to be paraded around.

Finnick hated it. He always has.

He was leaning against a wall, glass of champagne in hand as he scanned the room.

Then his eyes landed on you.

You. The person he wished he hated.

He watched as you worked the room. You laughed at every joke, you batted your eyelashes, you smiled at the perfect times—a smile that was practiced and polite, you brushed hands with the people around you at percise moments.

Everyone in the Capitol loved you, they were all hooked on you since you won your games two years ago. The beautiful tribute that came from District 7, the one who won against all odds.

Finnick kept watching you. The pain of two years ago rushing back to him as he did.

He was in the Capitol at the time, at a viewing party. His eyes were fixated on the screen as the dam broke, water flooded the arena, and a spark of hope went through Finnick when he saw the cameras zoom in on Annie who was swimming.

"She's gonna win it all. That girl." he heard one of the party goers say.

He thought so too. That was til someone shouted, "Look there! In the water!"

That's when he saw you. You weren't much of a fighter, only having 3 kills, but still, you were lethal, especially with your axe.

He watched as you swam, something that shocked him because not many tributes outisde of four knew how to swim. He watched as you made your way towards a tree to get the higher ground. And once you had it. That was that.

He felt his heart break when he heard Annie cry out, but he couldn't show it, not in front of everyone.

That pain stayed in his heart whenever he saw you.

He wanted there to be more to hate about you. He wanted you to be cruel, shallow, or selfish—anything to justify the hatred he felt every time he looked at you. Anything to make it easier to stomach the fact that you had killed Annie.

But you weren’t any of those things. You were poised, charming, and maddeningly perfect at playing the Capitol’s game.

And on the rare occasions that you were forced to speak to eachother, you were always polite, always kind, always with a smile. You never said anything bad. And even if you were faking it, you were good at it.

And he just hated how good you were at it, how easily you commanded the room with a laugh or a perfectly timed smile. He hated how everyone loved you. How easily you fit into their world.

He knew that it was something all Victors had to do. To survive outside of the games. Especially those that Snow deemed desireble. He had to do the same, but recently things were more calm. he wondered why, but didn't dare question it out loud.

He kept his eyes on you, his hand tightening around his champagne glass as he watched one of Snow’s aides lean in close, whispering something in your ear. He saw the way your smile faltered for a split second before you forced it back into place, masking it with a laugh.

You slipped away from the group a moment later, heading toward the quieter halls of the mansion. Finnick didn’t think—he just moved, following you like a shadow.

When he found you, you were leaning against a wall at the end of the corridor, your head in your hands and your breathing uneven.

“Taking a breather from all your adoring fans?” Finnick asked, his voice laced with bitterness.

You flinched, straightening immediately at the sound of his voice. “Finnick,” you said, turning to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” he echoed, a humorless laugh escaping him. “I could ask you the same thing. You looked like you were having the time of your life back there.”

You frowned. “I was doing what I had to do.”

“What you had to do?” he repeated mockingly. “Please. You were eating it up, just like you always do. I bet you love all this—all the attention, all the praise.”

Your expression darkened, and Finnick felt a flicker of satisfaction at having struck a nerve. “You don’t know anything about what I feel,” you said coldly.

“Oh, don’t I?” he shot back, stepping closer. “You’ve been parading yourself around the Capitol since the day you won your Games. You’re their perfect little doll, aren’t you? Always smiling, always charming. You make it so easy for them to love you.”

“Stop it,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Why should I?” Finnick pressed, his voice rising. “You don’t even care, do you? About what they take from us, about what they make us do—”

“I care!” you shouted, cutting him off. “You have no idea how much I care, Finnick! You don’t know anything!”

There was silence for a moment as he watched tears fall down your face.

“Do you think I want this?” you whispered, your voice raw and broken. “Do you think I enjoy it?" you add on as you turn away from him to collect yourself.

There was quiet again, Finnick was about to press further when you turned to face him.

"I don't. I don't enjoy any of it. But you know why I do it? Because I owe it to you. Because I owe it to her. To Annie."

“I killed her,” you continued, tears streaming down your face. “I killed the one person you loved, and now I’m paying for it."

Finnick froze, his anger faltering. “What are you talking about?”

You held back your words for a moment, but then started speaking again, "After my Games, I begged Snow. I begged him to let me protect you.”

“What?” Finnick said, his voice barely audible.

“I told him I’d do whatever he wanted to me,” you continued, your voice breaking. “As long as he left you alone.”

The words hit Finnick like a punch to the gut. Suddenly, the fact that things were calmer for him made so much sense.

"So now, every client, every touch, every moment I spend with them—it’s my punishment, it's my punishment for what I took from you."

“Y/N...” he began, his voice softer now as he approached you.

You shook your head, stepping back. “Don’t,” you said. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I don’t deserve it. Not from you.”

Finnick stared at you, his heart breaking as he realized the depth of your self-loathing. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms.

You resisted at first, your fists weakly pushing against his chest. But eventually, you crumpled, sobbing into his shirt.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” you choked out. "I never wanted you to find out."

Finnick’s throat tightened as he held you, his hand gently stroking your hair, but he couldn't find himself to say anything.

And as you broke down in his arms, Finnick held you tighter, wishing that he hadn't spent all this time wishing that he hated you.

A/N: oh this one had a KICK 💔

[glorifiedstreetmagician]

To My Dearest

Three letters from Haku Kusanagi to Zenji Kotodama that he did not send and one that he did. Thank you @danieyells for the inspiration. This is dedicated to @zenji-kotodama-official, for hopefully obvious reasons.

[unsent]

Zenji,

This is the sort of thing you would do. But now I find myself sitting at my desk, the weight of the time spent apart hanging over me like an axe about to drop, and I'm writing a letter you'll probably never see. I'm pretending to write to you anyway. Rui said it might help me figure my feelings out if I wrote them down like this, but after ten of these already I'm starting to think I'm doing this just because it feels like the only way I can speak my mind to you while you're not here.

It reminds me of the time I found a poem left on your desk when you weren't there. You wrote of a ghost of a poet and an heir to a shrine. I didn't read it all—I won't pretend to have had the patience or the nerve to try at the time—but I still think about it. You were trying to tell me something and I wish I knew what.

I shouldn't have told you what I did, that I wished I had kissed you when I had the chance. I should have said that I'd still try. You still reach for the people around you with such reckless love, like that time you moved for my hand and fell through your own bed. Your embarrassment was priceless. Oddly beautiful, too. And if you'd let me try to embarrass myself, just once, I'd try to kiss you, ghostly air and all.

It's shameful. Sometimes I lay awake at night, curled up on my side and staring at my door, asking myself what I did wrong. But I know I've done plenty wrong. Even so, I wish you'd just talk to me. I miss you. I hate that I miss you.

You're so annoying, but why did I have to get used to your annoyingness? Why do I miss it? Why do I yearn for just one more obnoxiously loud song, one more melancholic poem, one more masterpiece played on your biwa with your imperious voice demanding I record?

I hate you. I hate you for making me cry. I hate you for being gone. I hate you for not talking to me. I hate you for your silence more than your noise ever annoyed me. Please come back. Please be silent somewhere I can see you again. Just please come back. Come back and be your annoying self and I won't complain again. I won't roll my eyes. I won't tease. Just come back to me, Zenji.

Why do you avoid me? Is it so terrible if I want you, alive or dead? Is there really no other way for us to have our happily ever after? Is there a reason you won't try with me?

Haku

[unsent]

Dear Taro,

Do you remember the day we first met? It was the start of second year for us both, though I didn't really know you until I first stepped foot into Hotarubi, my new dorm at the time. To be honest, I don't really know why I chose it when I'd hardly spent any time there before I left Frostheim. I guess it just reminded me of home.

That first day though, it didn't feel exactly like home. It felt a bit like betrayal when I walked in, knowing who I'd left behind. I was quiet, and then there you were. An explosion of colour and fabric, pale skin glowing even in the dim mists of Hotarubi, and I could swear your eyes sparkled. You were all smiles and friendly chatter, welcoming me like I was just some childhood buddy you hadn't seen for a long time. You didn't even know me.

And you wouldn't leave my side. You said "hi" to at least a dozen people on the way to showing me my room, but stuck by me. At mealtimes, you were there. In the evening, you walked me back to my room even when I said I remembered the way. You did the same the day after that and the day after that and, seemingly, almost every single day forward. I'm not sure you knew it, but you made those first months bearable for me. I'm not sure I ever thanked you for that.

I've always been ungrateful when it comes to you. For your life, your company, and your smile.

What I'd give to see your smile again.

Sorrowfully, Haku

[unsent]

Dearest Taro,

I see the way she looks at you. I see the way you look at her. I've never been a jealous man. At least, not until now. She brings so much more life to you, and for someone always on my case for flirting, you certainly charm the hell out of her.

We talk now, but it doesn't feel the same as before the ball. I wish we'd never gone. I wish I hadn't asked you to dance. I'd undo it all if it meant you wouldn't keep averting your gaze from me when I'm in the room.

What does an honor student have that I don't? Why will you entertain her and not me?

How much longer will this go on?

Yours, Haku

[the downturned card]

Haku didn't show up to the wedding. How could he go on pretending to be perfectly serene and happy, seeing two of his friends get what they always deserved and he selfishly wished against?

The closest he made it was a short distance from the reception, under the shade of a tree grown into the form of a bench. It was wrapped in white and soft indigo ribbons, purple roses tucked among them. That was where he left his folded-up letter.

He glimpses Zenji in the distance, dressed down for this part after the ceremony, considering it was only for close friends. Who would have thought that all the ghouls would not only help lift not just a curse, but a spirit from the dead to allow this newlywed couple to stand here today? Zenji moved and interacted with the world with so much grace and enthusiasm. Every step, every wave of his hand, every turn of his head filled Haku with a love so deep and aching that it hurt.

Love. He had fallen in love with his old friend. It was a terrifying, tragic feeling.

If not for the pain, Haku wouldn't have had the means to walk away, leaving the letter in the tree for Zenji to find if he went looking.

To My Dearest,

There's a poem I've been thinking about. A few lines specifically:

Trees outside the window and a big band sound that makes you feel like / everything's okay, / a feeling that lasts for one song maybe, / the parentheses all clicking shut behind you... I sleep. I dream. I make up things / that I would never say. I say them very quietly.

Sometimes it's easier to use a poet's words when I'm lost for ways to articulate just how I'm feeling. The full poem is more hopeful, but I keep coming back to these lines. It's like he knew, somehow. Precisely how to describe the way grief feels, where you stand in one place but time moves on anyway. Contentment is fleeting, the situation is final, and I betray my own healing by whispering all the words I wish I had said long ago and clinging to them like they might impossibly change the present.

I fear I have become the ghost in bringing you back. I'm stuck somewhere between that night and all the nights after where something got lost in translation.

You deserve this happy life. I'm writing this letter to say goodbye. I have always been a selfish, selfish man. I can't watch you love someone else anymore and live the life with her that I wanted with you.

I'm sorry, Taro. I'm so sorry I never did anything right by you.

Yours, still, Haku

[the upright card]

Haku went through the motions of the day in a kind of stupor. A few years ago, if you told him that he was going to get married one day, he'd laugh self-deprecatingly and ask if you were planning to propose to say such a thing. If you told him he was going to marry Zenji Kotodama—to him, Taro Kirisaki—he would blankly demand what gave you that ridiculous idea, arms crossed and unimpressed.

Currently, his arms are draped over Zenji's shoulders as they slow dance in an empty garden party. All the guests had left. Soon, Haku was going to clean up before he and Zenji collected their bags to board the late train. But right now, he's content just dancing to a song Zenji hummed sweetly in the quiet.

The moment feels so surreal. Zenji's buzzing solidness after years of growing stronger, the rise and fall of his chest so close to true breathing, the fact that they could still hold each other even while one remained a ghost. But the sound of his voice remains the same as always.

"You seem lost in thought, my dear." Zenji's ruby eyes glitter with gentle affection as he observes Haku. "Will you tell me about it?"

"It's nothing," Haku says, only for the rest of his excuses to melt away at a kiss to his forehead. It feels as real as anything.

"Tell me anyway," Zenji replies once he pulls away, smiling encouragingly.

Sighing, Haku glances off to the side at the curved tree. "It's... not something I can say aloud right now."

"But we are alone!" Zenji says, incredulous.

And Haku finds himself chuckling. "Yes. I know. But it's because it's for you that I'm struggling to say it." They stop dancing and, with a tremoring hand, Haku draws a folded piece of paper from a pocket in his coat. "Here. Read this, please. I should start cleaning, or we'll never make it to that train."

"But these are not your vows from earlier?"

"No," Haku says, wandering off to start collecting glasses to take inside. "Just read it and you'll see!" he calls back before leaving.

To My Dearest,

While I like poetry, I've never been all that good at it. I've written this letter probably a dozen times already, trying to quote every Romantic poet you could name. And many of them, I find, are so sad in their works. It just wouldn't do because I find myself so incredibly happy.

I'm writing this version the night before our wedding. You're asleep in the next room over (I know this because I can hear you snoring) and the moon is bright. I have the window open and the breeze is so nice, even if it's also messing with the paper right now.

You know by now that I'm stalling. You've always known me better than anyone else, particularly my own family. And while you've felt like family for a long time now, I can't believe I'm—and yet I look forward to—officially making you mine tomorrow.

You don't know it, but I've been writing letters to you for years. It started in our third year at Darkwick Academy, when I thought I had ruined our friendship for good. Ruined any kind of relationship we might have had. I wrote to you almost every day for a month, and then I continued to write after, but I never sent anything. You know me, after all. I couldn't be openly honest if my life depended on it.

Keats wrote once about the harmony in silence—or something close to that. After years of writing to you what I cannot say, I think I've finally reached that harmony. In my silent missives, I've found a new appreciation for your endless songs. I want you to sing until I go deaf. I want to love you until the end of my life, and then even after.

I used to scorn fairy tales. They weren't real. I had experienced the real world with all its unfit couples, doomed lovers, and sex addicts. I thought that was all there is. You may remember that there was a time I never thought I'd marry, simply because I didn't think a happy marriage was possible. But I want to make a promise to you, Taro. The vows I read out tomorrow are for everyone else. But this promise is for you only, in the beautiful simplicity of silence as you read.

While it is within my power, I am making this our happily ever after, my dearest. I owe it to the both of us to believe in fairy tales again. And I promise you that in this one, the moon and the fisherman can devote themselves to one another, the heir to the shrine can know of the ghost's love, and the beast can marry the princess.

We will have bad days. Someday I might find I grow tired of noise again. You might detest my criticisms. But I promise to never forget the love that's bound us through life and death. If you ever fear that I will, come to me with this letter and we will read it again together until we both remember our happily ever after.

I'm going to marry you tomorrow. You'll see.

With love, forever yours, Haku

[wisteria-html]

Ok. I’m going to start by saying that I’m ignoring everything that happened after this, because Birdie and Chris are my friends and I worry it would color this interaction. So. For the moment I am only considering this specific post for my response.

To start, thank you for apologizing. I accept it but as I said I can’t forgive you yet. I want to and I will work towards it but I’m not there yet. Nonetheless you saying that means a lot to me, and I accept your apology.

I have been acting excessively vitriolic and I’ve admitted that. I believe multiple times, though I don’t have the energy to go back and check. It’s not entirely your fault. The way you left suddenly without a true goodbye genuinely triggered me about something that happened a few months ago in my personal life. More than anything it was a shock, I thought I was safe here with all of you and suddenly it was happening again. I was at a Christmas party talking about what had happened a few months ago when I got the notification from Chris telling me you left. I know you tried to say goodbye, but I never saw it. I didn’t even get to hear it from you. Since then I’ve watched you hurt my friends (whether you meant to or not) and that just made me more angry. I’ll admit I wasn’t being entirely fair. I’m not used to being angry. I don’t know how to deal with it. If I’ve been excessively harsh I’m genuinely sorry. I just didn’t know how else to deal with this.

You’re right. You were able to be contacted. It didn’t seem like you wanted to, though, and I wasn’t going to push. A few months ago I was told to never contact who I thought was my best friend again. I got an impersonal goodbye and a boundary set. That day I decided not to beg people to have me in their life. I refuse to beg people to care about me. That’s what it felt like. And I didn’t have the energy to follow you down whatever hole you were digging yourself. Whether that’s accurate or not is up for debate, but that’s how I was viewing things in the moment.

That’s also why I was hesitant to step in with the hag, by the way. With the book, before I was cursed you knew I cared about you and wanted you around. You could assume the change in behavior was due to the curse. With you, I genuinely didn’t know whether you were enchanted or not because you left before you met her. I had no idea whether you wanted my help and again, I was not going to push. I’m sorry if that made you lose faith in me. I just couldn’t do that to myself.

Deleting that tumblr blog was a lot actually. I feel like you’re minimizing it and I can’t tell if that’s accidental or not. In deleting that, you deleted all evidence of a lot of our interactions, as well as half of our conversations (in the tags). It was like suddenly you and our past was completely inaccessible. All I had was what I had reblogged and even that was unfinished. Not only did you take yourself from me, you took a lot of the memories of you too. That’s your choice, I get it. But it did hurt more than you think.

Finally, I disagree with your last point. Sure if friends never trust each other then it won’t work, but there is absolutely space to rebuild broken trust in a friendship. I don’t know if that’s the route we’re heading (not because I hate you or am still furious, just other factors), but it is possible. I truly believe that. I think that anything can be rebuilt, even if it takes a while to be as strong as it was before. Sometimes it’s better to cut losses, but other times it’s worth it.

I wanna explain where my head is at for a bit now. It feels mean to say I don’t trust you, but I think it’s true. I wish it wasn’t, but every time we talk I’m so scared you’re going to leave without a trace again. If I open myself up to you and it happens again I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not the way it happened before, without real closure. When I say I wouldn’t be able to handle it, I mean it: I think I would genuinely leave this little community. Certainly for longer than two weeks. And it’s not entirely your fault I feel this way, but right now my interactions with you are colored by my fear. Fear that it will all be for nothing in the end.

I think I still love you. I know I still care about you. I know I miss you. I hope you feel the same about me. I think that at this point we just both have to think about where we’re heading and if those paths are aligned or if they’re diverging.

Mavis,

I don't regret punching your nerd face, and I will do it again. Birdie, I'm unhappy with you, you rushed into something stupid, and took all my friends with you and then blamed me for your actions. As far as I'm concerned we are not on good terms. You knew Chris shouldn't have exposed himself to the cult and you were a bad friend and family member. You also enabled the killing of countless innocents with Alex. Wisteria, I am sorry for abandoning you, it was heat of the moment and it was the wrong choice. But, I told everyone where I went the day of, and you've acted excessively vitriolic towards me. I was not unable to be contacted, I deleted a tumblr blog. I still stand by the idea that if both parties are unable to trust each other, we can not meaningfully be friends. Chris,

I was deeply hurt by your actions, but I also acted selfishly and dramatically. It wasn't your fault birdie acted rashly, you were just trying to help your (stupid) family. The bog thing was bad, and the hag thing isn't an excuse. I want to make it up to you, and I've missed you this whole time. I understand that I've been bad to you, but I also want to say, a lot of it was not intended to be cruel. I am... kind of stupid. I hope I can make it up to you one day. Alexandria, Fuck you Alex.

[legokingfisher]

Hiiiiii!!!!!!! Hi hi hi hi hi hi hiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!