#and a month of telling people that i’ll definitely post art soon

[remxedmoon]

save me bonnie isat… bonnie isat… save me…

woah what!!! isat fanart with color??? preposterous. greyscaled versions under the cut!! (and also the last doodle without the crusty old drawing next to it!! incase you want to use it for anything)

anyways. uh. scampers away like a little rat

[youngtacoes]

Strangers, no more

Cooper Howard aka The Ghoul x f!reader

Author's note: this is a long one !! i've had this scenario in my head for a long ass time and i just had to get it out on paper. cooper isn't as cruel in this one, sorry if that's not your thing, but he can be soft sometimes too! fyi: reader is 18+ and everything is consensual! If you're only here for the smut you can skip toward the end.

Word count: 6,8k

Summary: Cooper is a bounty hunter struggling for caps and you need to be transported safely across the wasteland in "good condition", luckily it pays well. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of r*pe, impregnation & torture, religious cult, angst, virgin!reader, losing virginity, graphic smut

~

It was getting bad, really damn bad. Days of good-for-nothing bounty jobs, vial after vial, cough attack after cough attack. He needed the caps desperately if he was to keep himself from turning feral anytime soon. He’d been taking small jobs here and there, just enough to keep himself at bay for a few days, but he knew he couldn’t keep going at this rate for much longer. He needed a bigger job, a bigger cash prize, a bigger bounty, but every time he stopped by the wall of people with prizes attached to them, he found himself disappointed in how low the numbers were. That is until he notices a fresh face staring back at him, hidden behind newer posters, large letters displayed across. "BIG JOB", and this one has an even larger number attached.

He steps forward, pushing the other posts away and rips the new face off the wall to study the number closer. Yup, he read it right.

Five thousand caps.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered.

A young girl, maybe in her 20s. She looks well put together, innocent, and has a sincere smile on her face. For the first time in a very, very long time, he found himself wondering what her story was and why she was worth so damn much, but he didn’t like to dwell on it for too long. A job is a job, and this was going to be worth every damn cap.

On the poster, it states that she was to get picked up at the coordinates provided and to keep her in "good condition". Well, shit, that might just be the hardest part. The ghoul had never been one to take care of his captives, and most often he preferred if the poster stated "good dead or alive". This was definitely going to be different, and if it wasn’t for the "good condition" detail, he’d almost think it was too good to be true. Perhaps even think it was a trap.

~

It’s midnight, and you’re seated by your desk with a pen in hand, drawing carefully and concentrated on making art on this dirty sheet of old newspaper, but it was good enough for you. You drew flowers and insects from an old pre-war book about nature and their hidden treasures. You were always fascinated by the pre-war times, and though you will never know what it was truly like, you liked to imagine who you would’ve been back in those times.

It’s your way of forgetting about the current state of your life and the predicament you found yourself in. You were born in the wasteland, to a mother who did her best to protect you, but in the end, she had been brutally murdered by a group of raiders who attacked your farm, and you were taken captive by them at the age of 9. You spent a few horrid days with them before your current group found you and bought your freedom from them.

To be fair, you’ve been treated quite well by this group, and you thought you had a family in them at one point. That was until a few months ago when they decided you needed to be isolated from the rest for reasons you still didn’t quite understand. The leader of the group, Margot, had carefully selected you for a special assignment, and made sure to tell you the isolation was for your own good. Apparently you needed special treatment before a long journey to a sacred place called Halfway that was waiting for your arrival.

Your fellow peers would come and visit you to show their excitement, though you didn’t quite understand it, it must be something good with all the positive buzz that’s surrounding you. So your head got filled with all sorts of scenarios and dreams of where you were going and what luxuries you were to experience on this assignment. Though you had your doubts that it was all just a coverup for something else, you didn’t have any reason not to trust your group. They had been nothing but kind to you as long as you’d been there.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by heavy knocks on your locked door and a command shouted from behind.

"Lights out!"

You sigh at the command. "Yes madam!"

You don't bother packing up your drawing supplies, you'll be continuing with it tomorrow anyway, and the day after, probably. You find your bed and blow out the nearby candles.

Every night you can't help but wonder when your assignment and journey would begin. You had all sorts of feelings and questions about it, but every time you tried talking to Margot, she would give you answers that didn’t really answer anything at all, so you gave up on trying to figure it out a long time ago.

~

The next morning you’re awaken rudely by the guards coming into your room and practically dragging you out of bed in your dazed state.

"Wha- HEY-" you try to muster what’s going on, but before even getting a word out, you’re on your feet and Margot stands before you with her hands on her back.

"Morning lucky one. It’s time, the day we have waited long for is finally here," She's so serious in her delivery, it almost frightens you.

It’s happening.

"We’ve hired someone to transport you safely across the wasteland for your assigment, they’re here and won’t be kept waiting. Get ready in 5 and say your goodbyes, quickly."

Suddenly it feels like it’s all happening too fast, and a slight panic rise inside you. Margot must've notices your panicked stare, cause her features soften, and she steps closer to you.

"You’ve come so far, and I’m so proud of you,» She smiles at you with encouragement, "This is your moment, and I know you will succeed and make us all proud."

Her words give you enough to calm down before the panic escalated. And you give her a nod that you indeed got this. You can do this. You’ve done hard things before, this shouldn’t be any different.

"Yes madam," you say smiling back at her. She flashes you one last smile and a wink before turning and walking back out.

Outside you find everyone from your group waiting in the corridors. They smile at you, some coming to greet you, give you kisses on the cheek as you’re led out of the main building by the guards. It’s all a bit much, but this must be pretty big deal. Margot waits for you by the gate to your commune, but she's not alone. A dark figure stands just outside, looking impatient.

You’re filled with scepticism as you walk up them, but you have to put your trust in her. She notices you and takes a hold of your hands with a smile.

"You will do great," And the wave of panic that had a hold of you before, washes off of you completely. You nod confidently now, and you start believing that this is actually gonna be totally fine.

You feel the dark figure moving closer to you, his hat covering his face just enough to keep him anonymous for the time being. He still looks terrifying, but you have to trust this man is here only to protect you on your journey to Halfway, and that he will do his best to do so.

Margot shoots the man one last look, "Good condition," the man still doesn’t show his face, but he nods.

"Yes ma’am. Let’s go princess," You realize he’s talking to you, and you’re startled by the nickname at first, but you decide not to fuzz, at least not yet. He’s already started walking away, so you find yourself running up behind him, waving back to your leader for the last time, only she doesn’t wave back, she doesn’t even flash a smile. She stares back at you with a stern look as the gates to the commune come to a close.

It doesn’t give you the best feeling, but perhaps she was feelings sad you were leaving and didn’t want to show any emotions. Either way, you try to push the sight out of your mind, doing your best to follow the stranger. He doesn’t say a word for a long time, and you find that maybe it’s best we keep to ourselves for the time being, but as an hour or so go by, you find yourself a little curious.

You clear your throat, "Excuse me, sir?"

He doesn’t reply, but shoots a quick look over his shoulder to indicate that he’s listening.

"How long do you think we’ll be walking for?"

Given that Margot had given you absolutely no information about this journey, you figured it was worth a shot to ask your new strange companion.

"Couple’a days, if we don’t get sidetracked," His voice ragged, western, serious.

"Oh," not really sure if you dared asking for further details. You’d prefer to keep it peaceful for as long as possible, but you find the courage to ask anyway.

"Sidetracked by what?"

You hear him sigh, "Unnecessary bullshit."

‘Whatever that means’ you think to yourself. He doesn’t seem like the talkative type, but after months of isolation you find yourself rather desperate for someone to talk to, and if you are to spend days with this man, you figure it’s worth a shot trying to get to know him for whatever time you have to spend together.

"I see.. I’ll be on the lookout for that I suppose."

You can barely believe your ears when you hear a chuckle coming from the stranger in front of you.

After that positive feedback, you find yourself braver.

"I didn’t catch your name?"

His posture changes after the question left your mouth.

"I didn’t give to ya,"

"Well, I’m Y/N, but everyone calls me Lucky. It’s a bit of a recent nickname though. You see, I just spend 6 months in completely isolation-"

You get cut off abruptly when you find yourself crashing into the strangers back, realizing he's come to an complete halt. He turns around, his figure towering slightly over you. His hat is no longer doing it’s job to cover his face, and utter horror washes over you as it's fully visable in the golden hour light.

"Listen sweetheart, I’m here to do this goddamn job. I don’t wanna hear your whole life story, and you sure as hell won’t be hearing mine. How about we keep our histories to ourselves and try to get this over with as quickly as fucking possible. That sound good to you?"

Your eyes aren’t able to leave his face. His sunken eyes, skin looking like it's been melted by the sun, an obvious nose missing. A ghoul, a ghoul is transporting you. You’ve not met a ghoul before, and those you’ve heard stories of have been grotesque. Fair enough they had been feral, but who’s to say this one won’t turn?

You get the gist of what he’s saying, and simply nod in agreement, not wanting to make this trip any more uncomfortable than it already is.

His eyes bore into your own, and he’s a lot closer than you’d prefer. For a second you think his eyes dart down to your lips before he turns around to keep walking, but that would be crazy, and very disturbing.

~

Nightfall comes fast, and you’re finding yourself worried for where you’ll be sleeping for the night. You really don’t wanna ask the ghoul, but your steps are getting shorter and slower, and you think the Ghoul have noticed cause he starts walking off track and leads you to a broken down abandoned house off the road.

"Stay here," he says before entering the house, gun up, ready to shoot. You do as he says and wait patiently for him to clear the coast. It doesn’t take long before you hear squealing and two shots being fired. You’re not sure whether to go in or run, but it doesn't matter anyway cause you freeze up completely in these situations. All you can do is hope that the ghoul knows what he's doing.

He comes back to the door a few minutes later, gesturing for you to come in, you’re hesitant, but you do. It's not like you have much of a choice anyway, "What was the shooting about?"

In his left hand he holds a dead radroach, and you find yourself wondering why he’s holding it. That's so fucking gross.

"You should be grateful. I got us some lunch the road," he says, flashing you a smirk. It's almost like he knew you’d be repulsed by it.

"Uhm, y’know what? I think I’m good, for the time being." You try to be nice, but you feel like you might not have a say in the matter. This might be the only food you get for a while.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make a fire and we’ll put it on the grill."

You want to roll your eyes and complain, but you force yourself to give him a smile and if anything, show some appreciation. He did in fact just catch you a meal.

You’re able to swallow some of the grilled radroach, but after the fresh foods you had grown accustomed to from your commune, you found this hard to stomach.

Nightfall has fallen completely now, and you’ve done your best to make a comfortable sleeping spot by the fire. The ghoul sits nearby keeping watch, and you find yourself very curious of his past and who he is, or who he used to be. Thinking back to his speech earlier about keeping your histories to yourselves reminds you not to ask, but he didn’t say anyting about asking about where you were going.

"What do you know about Halfway?" You watch him closely for any hints he migth give away, "Is it as grand as everyone makes it out to be?" You lay on your side, arm resting under your head.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the fire. "How about you get some rest, alright?" he avoids your question. How annoying.

You turn to lay on your back with a puff of annoyance. «Nobody wants to tell me anything,"

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

You turn to look at him, his eyes still not meeting yours. "What is that supposed to mean?" By the sound of it, nothing good.

"Look it's not my job to inform you of shit, and if your leader wanted you to know, trust me darling, she would've told ya."

His eyes flicker up to look directly at yours this time, and it catches you off guard. Not knowing what else to say, you decide to turn to your side, away from him. This whole thing is giving you a really bad feeling.

You’re back on track the next day. Your legs sore from the day before. Having been in isolation for 6 months will do that to you, you guessed, but you'll manage.

The ghoul hasn't said a word yet today, and though you didn't exactly get the answers you were looking for last night, you refused to give up completely.

"What did Margot mean when she said good condition?"

He doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t. You sigh,

"Look, I don’t mean to be annoying. Truly, I’d just like to know what is waiting for me. That’s all, and I really don't see the harm in that." Still nothing.

"Hey! It’s not kind to ignore someone when they're talking to y-" The ghoul quickly turns, a rope firm in his hands. Where did that come from? He grabs your hands, tying them together before you’re able to protest.

"Hey- what’re you doing!?" You look at him in disbelief, anger and panic all in one.

"Trust me, it’s for your own good," You laugh at that, yeah right. Before you’re able to mock him, he takes out a piece of cloth and wraps it around your head, specially over your mouth, and it's keeping you from saying what's on your mind. For a second you’re actually fearing for your life.

"Listen, gorgeous. We’re about to pass through some dangerous territory, and the people in these parts would do a lot to get their hands on a pretty litte thing like yourself. You follow my lead and keep your mouth shut, can you do that for me?"

You look for any lies in his eyes, but you genuinely believe him. It’s not like you can argue against him anyway, but you put your trust in him and give a nod in response.

You walk for a short while longer before you actually start seeing other people on your path. They seem rough around the edges. Hostile, but not aggressive, yet anyway. You walk past a few who seem to be intrigued, but not interested enough to take their chance at battle with the ghoul. That is until a few of them start gathering in front of you. Four men stand before your path, making it impossible to keep walking without confrontation.

"Gentlemen, how do you do?" The ghoul seems to do his best to keep it friendly, not wanting to create an unnecessary conflict with precious cargo at risk.

"What’ve you got for us ghoul?" As you observe, you can tell some of them are clearly on heavy combat inhancing chems, might be a harder fight if it comes down to it.

"Delivery, to Halfway. Can’t lose this one I’m afraid." He says it so confidently, completely standing his ground, but still keeping it non threatening. The men seem intrigued, and even exchange laughs between themselves. You wonder what they find so funny.

"That religious sacrifice place? What a lucky girl,"

"Seems like she’s up for a hell of a good time,"

"Fellas, if you don’t mind, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule," The ghoul tries to interrupt their 'friendly' chatter, but to no avail.

"They only take virgins up there don’t they? That’s like their whole point?" One of the guys ask the other three.

"Yeah, it’s some crazy religious cult. They torture them and impragnate them for like 10 years or something, or at least that’s what I’ve heard."

You freeze at their words. That can’t be it. That’s not what’s been told to you. They’re joking, making it up to scare you. It’s not true.

"Crazy rich though, you must be getting a lot of caps for this huh?" Suddenly their tone is not so friendly anymore, but the ghoul doesn’t budge. He keeps his hand on his holstered gun, the other holding the rope that binds your hands.

"Lucky for you, we’re not looking to take her off your hands. This time anyway," They laugh once more, patting the ghoul on his shoulder before walking off, letting you pass. He pulls on the rope to shake you out of your frozen state, and you jolst forward, trying to keep up with him. But you're disassociating, not paying a single mind to anything around you. You're too much in your head about what was just said, and you'd like to say you didn't believe a single word, but for some reason you do.

You keep walking in silence, time becomes irrelevant when you're all up in your head. You don’t notice the radstorm closing in, nor the rain that has already started pouring. If anything is in your favor, it's that you pass by a town with an abandoned pre-war hotel that offer a room for 100 caps a night. For whatever reason, the ghoul decides to do that for you. You don’t ask questions, you don't care to.

Soaked, shivering and your legs just barely keeping you up anymore, the ghoul places you down on the couch in the room given to you. You let him guide you, and for once, you're glad he doesn't have much to say. He lowers himself down in front of you and starts taking off the disgusting saliva soaked cloth from your mouth.

You wipe your mouth your hand, "Thank you."

He keeps his mouth shut and starts working on untying the rope from your hands. You watch him crouched before you, he's being gentle when removing the knots. A horrifying reminder of what you won't be experiencing at Halfway, if the men from earlier was telling the truth that is. This thought is what breaks you, and the tears start trickling down your tired face. There's no point holding it back anymore.

He's looking at you, so clearly trying to hide the concern on his face as he stands up and walks to the door.

"I’ll head down to the square to look for some food,"

Whatever.

Your silence is making him uncomfortable, so he leaves. You stay seated, replaying the words spoken between the men from earlier, over and over in your head.

Everyone you knew had made Halfway seem like such an amazing place. That you were lucky to be going, you were chosen. The thought makes you want to throw up.

You don’t register that the ghoul is back, fresh mutfruits placed in front of you on the coffee table, and though you are starving, you can’t bring yourself to even eat one.

"Eat," he says sternly. You just shake your head.

"M’not hungry," you sniffle, drying your tears with the palm of your hand.

"It’s not nice to lie, sweetheart. You haven’t had anything to eat since the damn radroach. Eat," He's trying to act concerned, but you don't believe it for a second. You scoff and look up to meet his eyes, and he’s looking right back at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t believe this guy.

"Why do you care if I eat or not? Let me be," You're so tired, and all you want is to sleep. Gradually rising from the couch, you head towards the bed.

"Please," his plead makes you stop in your tracks.

"Please eat, you're really gonna need the strength," he seems desperate, almost.

You turn around to see him standing motionless by the coffee table, clearly attempting to compose himself.

"No," you're stern in your reply.

He's growing increasingly annoyed, angry even, because he knows he can't force you or harm you in any way.

"Whatever good condition means, I’m sure they'll be pleased as long as I’m alive, right?" Your voice gradually getting louder. "Being that their plan is to torture me for 10 years and all, they must have lots of stimpacks around to keep me alive enough to birth their whole next generation of psychos, don't you think?" Tears start falling.

"Don’t make me beg again," His eyes are shut, as if he's trying to block out your words, as if they affect him somehow. what a fucking joke.

"You’re so afraid you won’t get your paycheck. Well fuck you, and fuck the caps they’re paying you for this," you say it with so much pain and hatred, and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but you don’t have an inch of fuck to give at the moment.

Suddenly you see his angry features fall, and he catches himself in a cough. It's grotesque, and it seems to be getting worse with each one. He looks at you with disrepair, and you can tell he's struggling to catch his breath. You don't know what to do, but you're getting scared for him now. It looks horrifying, but before you're able to come to his aid, he scurries out the room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. What just happened? A part of you wanted to run after him to make sure he was okay, but at the same time you wouldn't mind too much if he left and never came back. Shaking, you decide to tuck yourself into the left side of the bed. Trying not to think about how dirty it is, you curl yourself into a ball and cry out every last drop.

You’re never able to fall asleep, the tears just keep coming. You thought about running away, but knowing that the ghoul was getting paid a lot for this job, he would likely find you again in no time. What would be the point?

Your sobs are suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and you quiet yourself down to listen closely to every sound. The sound of the ghouls boots scraping the floor as he makes his way to the couch, his coat and gear getting thrown down on it. You decide to pretend that you’re already asleep as you hear him make his way to the bed. Feeling it dip slightly as he lay down in it.

But your cover is blown when you sniffle from the snot in your nose. You damn yourself as a sigh from the stranger fills the room, and you start feeling embarrassed about the way you treated him earlier. It’s not him you should be angry at, if anything it’s Margot and your group. The ghoul is just doing his job, to collect a price which he must need desperately, you can’t really blame him. He owes you nothing.

"Cooper," his raspy voice turned soft for a second.

"What?"

"My name is Cooper, some call me Coop. Whichever rolls of your tongue the best."

You feel awful now, "I’m sorry," Wiping away the tears and the snot to the best of your ability.

"For what sweetheart?" He sounds like he already knows what you’re apologising for, but decides to ask anyway for his own amusement.

"For cursing you out, it’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you," You say, already feeling better for apologizing.

You both stay silent for a while, only sniffles from your nose filling the room. It’s embarrassing, you feel like such a child.

"C’mere darling," He says it in such a soft way. You can barely believe your ears. Looking over your shoulders you see him looking at you, only the dim light of a burning candle nearby to light your surroundings. He’s on his back, gesturing with his hand for you to lay in the crook of his arm. You contemplate it for a second, but it doesn’t take much convincing if you’re being honest. You’d take any form of comfort to make you forget this whole thing, even for just a night.

You turn around, inching closer under the sheets, finding a comfortble spot in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm. You’ve never been this close to someone except your mom when you were younger. It’s scary in a way, being this vulnerable and intimate with someone you barely know.

Your breaths are shallow, thoughts racing through your mind and it’s making your heart is beat so fast. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, his body doesn’t give anything away.

You lay like this for a while, just a few dry sniffles and breaths heard between you. You recognize the closeness of him.

But you want to get even closer. You want him wrapped around you and have him absorb your whole being. It may come from having learned that you have extreme trauma waiting for you, and you can’t help but want to experience something good and genuine before that.

Your breaths become heavier, deeper, and you feel yourself wanting something; wanting him. This could go terribly wrong, but what exactly do you have to lose? Fuck it. You push away the what if's and inch your face closer to Cooper’s neck, your hands find themselves carefully making their way to his chest. He doesn’t react, and from what you can tell, he doesn't seem to mind.

You see his breathing stop, and you’re feeling brave. So you test the waters, gently sliding your hand up to his chest, letting them glide across his shirt. While your lips carefully grace the rough skin on his neck. You hear him puff out the air he’s been holding in while curiously letting letting you wander, but he doesn’t seem to resist.

When he doesn’t stop you, it’s easy to find the courage to keep going. Your hand wanders further down his chest, stomach, but he catches your hand right before it reaches the hem of his pants.

"What do you think you’re doin'?" He doesn't sound disappointed, more so curious. You feel a bit embarrassed, but you stand your ground, like you've already stated, you’ve got nothing to lose.

"Please Coop," just a whisper in his ear, "Please show me what it’s meant to feel like", a plea, practically begging.

He can’t help but let out a low growl, obviously turned on by the thought. "I’m meant to deliver you as a virgin, sweetheart."

You want to cry again, a sob brewing deep in your throat. "Please, they won’t know- They won’t find out," Your lips find his neck again, leaving trails of kisses up to his jawline, tongue swirling along the rough surface. You never thought you would find yourself in this position 2 days ago, but here you were, begging for a bounty hunter, a ghoul, to take your virginity.

Lucky for you, he seems to be out of fucks to give and lets go of your hand after only a few seconds of thinking it over. You don’t hesitate to let your free hand go under his shirt to feel his skin. It’s so textured, but you don’t mind. You’ve never touched anyone this way before, there wasn't much to compare it to.

Your hand travel lower until it finds a buldge. Being that this is your first time being intimate with somone, you’re startled by the unfamiliarity of it at first. But it doesn't take you long to realize that you were the reason for his cock hardening, and that turned you on more than anything.

Cooper, who's been laying still for some time now, has clearly been contemplating if he should stop this whole ordeal or not. He wants to touch you so bad, show you how good he can make you feel. Have you shaking with pleasure because of him, but he seems to let you be in control for the time being. You didn't mind, and it gave you some reassurance that this wouldn't be rushed, nor that he would force you to do something you didn't want to.

Your hands are shaking at this point as you try to unbotton his pants, and Cooper can't help but to give you a hand in your already broken state. You’re eager, and waste no time removing your own.

"Get over here darlin'," he says with that gentle voice again, gesturing for you to straddle his hips. His length is exposed now, and you feel yourself getting nervous with anticipation. You find it hard to believe that he's gonna fit inside you, it seems impossible.

Yet, you gain the confidence to sit up and make your way across his lap. You're not sure where to sit specifically, but you want to study him further and therefore straddle his thighs. His cock in view in front of you, laid across his stomach, stiff and drooling. Cooper doesn't say anything, but he watches you carefully, wondering what your next move will be. You don't pay attention to him for now.

You do however find yourself curious, and grab the length in front of you. It's warm, and you circle a thumb across the top where it's drooling a clear liquid. You hear him hum under you, an approval of the gesture you just performed. Butterflies take over your stomach, and you feel throbbing in your lower area. You want his cock so desperately inside you now, just to hear those sounds from him again.

"Sit up for me'," the gruffness of his voice draws your attention to him. You obliged without hesitation, "Scoot closer," and you do, of course you do.

He stretches a hand down between your thigs and you're on your knees straddling his hips. Rough fingers run between your folds and they run smoothly.

"Well fuck me, you really want this huh?" He's teasing you now. You nod frantically.

"Use your words sweetheart," He inserts a finger in your untouched hole. You gulp at the sensation, "Yes- yes I do-".

He hums again, moving the finger inside you, bending and stroking. It feels strange, but not painful. "I know you do honey, but I need to make sure you can handle me first, alright?"

You nod frantically, you knew already that you were prepared to do anything he wanted. "Yes, sir,"

Without warning he adds another finger, and it's starting to sting a little. You try to control your breathing as he starts moving them in and out of you, "I know it hurts baby, but it's only for a lil while. You trust me, don't you?"

You nod again, "Yes- Fuck!" He was getting agressive with it now, but he's hitting a spot you didn't know existed and it's sending you to other dimensions in your mind. Your eyes are rolling back while his fingers work hard between your thighs. It's unlike anything you've felt before.

"There we go.. You're gonna be so good for me aren't you, princess?" His words barely register as you find yourself gripping his arm and holding on for dare life to not lose your balance.

"Mhm- y- yes," and before you knew it, his hand is removed from between your folds and you're left heaving for your breath and trying to focus your vision again.

"I think you know what to do, darlin'," You need him badly now, even more now that you know what pleasures are waiting.

You place yourself over his cock, and Cooper watches in patiently as he puts his hands on your thighs, stroking them gently.

You grab his length and place it under your opening, ready to lower yourself on him. "Slow now," he warns as you as his tip meets your entrance, before letting it slip in just an inch. You both hiss, him with pleasure, you with pain.

"That’s it, doll," He keeps his eyes on you as you wince in pain. Taking deep breaths as your hole adjusts itself to his full size, but you’re feeling impatient and start pushing yourself even further despite the burning sensation. You figure it’s better to get it over with as fast as possible so you can actually start enjoying this.

Cooper hums, "Patience sweetheart," you lock eyes with him, and he genuinely seems to care. He lets you have complete control over this, not pushing any limits, and it makes you feel even more aroused, being in charge; seeing his eyes roll back with edged pleasure, yet doing nothing to force his way in.

You feel comfortable enough to start moving now, and you do your best not to squeal when you feel it burn and sting. Finally your skin touch, your ass gracing his thighs, and though it’s still stinging a bit, you can feel his whole length inside you, and it drives you mad.

"Just like that, princess," You hear his soft grunts below, and it reminds you to start moving. Slowly easing yourself off him, just to lower back down again, trying to find the right pace and angle for it to hit the right spot. It doesn't take long before you feel Cooper bucking his hips just ever so slightly to help you out, and he does. He knew exactly how to thurst his cock to give you the extreme pleasure you were searching for.

"More- please," you moan, your hands find his chest to lean on. Nails digging into his already ragged skin.

"God, you feel so fuckin' good around me, darling," His hips buck into you again, pulling himself almost all the way out before slamming himself back inside you. It's rough, and his hands have found your ass to grab to help move you to his rhythm. You're dazed, eyes barely open from sheer pleasure radiating deep inside you. It's making your breath hitched, and your moans spurt out in cries.

"My- fuckn'- god-" you struggle to draw a proper breath, your vision is blurred and rolled back, barely open.

He’s grunting with pleasure beneath you, seeing you completely lost to the way his cock fills your tight cunt, the next time rougher than last. You both sense that you're getting closer to an edge, and that’s when you realize how lightheaded you are, probably from the lack of food you’ve had today, and Coop notices how your figure slowly droops with exhaustion.

"Woah easy darling-" You feel him sit up under you, and without much effort he sits up and holds you tight to his chest, flipping you over on your back in a swift motion.

You would act surprised, but you’re too lightheaded and close to a climax that you don’t react at all. You feel his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavy and groaning into your ear as he pushes himself deep and steady inside you. Your moans are soft, almost silent, barely there, not enough energy to show him how good he’s making you feel. But you think he gets it, if anything he can see it in how your eyes roll back, how flushed your cheeks are, and feel how your walls are squeezing tightly around him.

"You gonna be a good girl and finish all over my cock, princess?" You feel a hand reach under your chin, placed firmy on your throat, a tight squeeze is applied as you feel his hot breath on your cheek. Sloppy kisses, and a traveling tongue, licking off all your sweat and tears. Having him so near and in control of your breathing makes you feel unbelievably hot. He could kill you right now, right at your high, and you wouldn't mind at all.

"I think I'm- Coop I'm gonna-," you’re whisper in his ear, and it only fuels him more.

He lifts your leg higher, hooking it over his free arm as he goes even deeper. "Show me how fuckin' good I make you feel, sweetheart,"

And with that you think you’re about to pass out, but instead you’re hit with the intense feeling of something combursting inside you. Your head slams back, and your hands reach up to grab the headboard of the bed, your knuckles turning white from the grip. You're dazed, exhausted, feeling the lingering pleasure from your orgasm still present inside your throbbing cunt. Cooper helps you ride out the orgasm in a slower pace while coming up close to his own.

"There you go doll, it's all right," His hand leaves your throat and he unhooks your leg to find your waist, placing them on each side. He's leaning back on his knees as he pumps himself into you, softly, slowly. Soft groans leaves his lips in heavy and hitched breaths as he gets closer.

Seeing you so beautifully dishevelled and limp beneath him, he starts guiding your exhausted body with his hands, pulling you onto his cock, using it to finish himself off. You allow him, cause you enjoy watching him his chest rise with every breath he takes. His eyes rolling back with pleasure from feeling your walls pulsate with each thrust, and with one last squeeze from you, he reaches his own climax.

His hands are grabbing your waist so tightly you can feel the bruises forming already, but all you can focus on is his heaving chest, and his exposed throat as his head is thrown back. Soft grunts and curses filling the room, and you imagine his eyes closed with painfully pleasurable bliss, all caused by you.

He rides out his own orgasm and tries to settle his breathing before he lifts himself off you. He doesn't look at you, but climbs tiredly out of the bed to readjust his clothing. You’re so sleepy, greasy, smelly, but you don't care. You're high, and happy.

You watch him at the edge of the bed, and you utter a soft 'Thank you', just to let him know you're grateful for risking the success of the job. You were meant to be delivered as a virgin after all.

You hear him chuckle from the foot of the bed, you guessed he’d never gotten a ‘thank you for fucking me’ from anybody before, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

"Close your eyes and get some sleep, alright?" Hell, he doesn’t need to tell you twice.

"I think that’s a good idea," You’re not really sure if the words ever left your mouth, being that you’re practically half asleep already. But you do notice the bed dipping slightly next to you, and how you’re gently being pushed on your side. Followed by something warm pressed up against your back, and gentle kisses being placed along your exposed neck.

What tomorrow brings doesn't matter in this moment.

Part 2?

[choicesficwriterscreations]

March Creator of the Month: Bayleedraws-sometimesx

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @bayleedraws-sometimesx!  The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here. Center photo by the lovely @bayleedraws-sometimesx!

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? 

Baylee

More below...

When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I think it was in 2018, and I first played Bloodbound 1. 

When and why did you join Choices fandom?

It was December 2020. I was really struggling at that point; my whole life had changed, and I still hadn't come to terms with it after a year. It was just an escape. 

How did you pick your blog name? 

It’s just my name and what I do. 

Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

It’s just a pfp i did over halloween. It’d me dressed like Sally from Nightmare before Christmas. 

Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

I used to want to be a writer. I really love writing stories, I’ve never really written any fanfiction, but technically, I can draw and write. 

How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

It’ll be four years in December since I’ve been creating Choices-related stuff, but ever since I was a little kid, I’d get obsessed with different shows/ characters and write/ draw them. 

What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

My favourite book is definitely Bloodbound. I love drawing BB related stuff because I have a slight obsession with Kamiliah 

Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a drawing I did for @ao719. I think I would change a lot if I were to draw it now. I don’t really like it anymore, and my style has definitely changed over the years.  I find it really embarrassing looking back at old drawings. 

What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

A BB animation (I still haven't finished), but it was really fun writing the story and designing/ drawing everything. 

Do you have a creation that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I never expected any animations to do well and was very surprised when they did. I’m really sure that I would like to get more attention. 

If you could only draw one style or type of art for the rest of your life, what would it be and why? 

I don't know. I’m moving into my own flat soon, so I’ve been drawing some scenery pieces I’m going to put up once I’m there. I find them really therapeutic to draw, so maybe that. 

Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs?

Sometimes. 

What element of art do you struggle with most?

Probably finishing the pieces off. By that point I’ve stared at it for so many hours that all I can see are  the problems with it. 

Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Absolutely, I’m going through a lot right now so there’s quite a lot of things that i really do want to finish but i just dont have the motivation. 

If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Maybe. My big brother taught me how to draw, so occasionally, I’ll let him look at some of my drawings. 

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

I can’t think of anyone published that I looked up to or have really inspired my artwork. There’s definitely people that i know in my life that have. 

Which one of your creations would you like to see fiction written about? 

I have absolutely no idea lol 

Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

Yeah, I love creating new characters and really animations doing animations of my original characters.

What other hobbies do you have?

A lot of crafty things. I was taught how to sew, knit, and crochet as a kid, and those are things I still enjoy doing now. 

[hanafubukki]

Hana…I just realized I have suddenly not been following you?! (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) Aaaaa I don’t know how long it’s been like that!! Here is a silly Lilia with a rose bouquet as my apology token 🫡💖🦇

😗drifting topics, I’m going to start watching Delico’s Nursery soon. Who’s your favorite so far?(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o))) I’m looking forward to this- the art style is really beautiful ☺️

HE’S SO CUTE KALLISTO THANK YOU 🥹😭💞🫂

I JUST WANT TO

He’s so cute!! With his little bow tie and a rose bouquet. Kicking my feet in my seat ahhh trying so hard not to shake my phone in public. The smile I have right now ahhh 😭🥹💞 Thank you 🥹💚

And no worries at all Dear Kallisto 🫂💚, I heard this was an issue a couple months ago with another mutual too where their account suddenly unfollowed a bunch of people. So it could just be that happening to you as well so please don’t be sorry 🫂💙

YESS IM SO GLAD 🥳👏

I hope you enjoy it ahhh I’m so excited omg, and a new episode updates tomorrow too 🥰

I can’t wait to see what you think about it 💞 the art style and the babies is what drew me in. Seeing struggling fathers and their children? Where do I sign my name?! Ajskdkf

So my faves so far is:

Delico: he’s the black haired one with short hair and the blond baby and black haired kid. I feel this pull for him which you know means I’ll be simping. But he has this?? Aura?? That I love? The way he takes care of his children. He tries so hard. He literally says they cry endlessly and it’s honestly dreadful but he has the most tender expression! And then another one where he’s like “I’ll chases away anything that makes you cry”CAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE?! He’s strong and well known and they want to give him a mission but he prioritizes his family. I mean are you surprised that I like him given my love for a certain bat dad. Definitely my fave from the moment I laid my eyes on him in the trailer a year ago.

Gerhard: this one! This one has the potential for change! And boy, do I hope we get to see it. He has the potential to be changed by love and get domesticated. You’ll learn about him more in the first episode, but boy do I want parenthood to hit him in the face because he’s so surly and prideful. I just want to see that, you know? Get smacked in the face you long haired stubborn vamp. There’s a scene in the first episode that had me cackling. Kind of reminded me of a scene with Mal and lilia lol.

And and and

Okay, so not to make everything relatable to Lilia Vanrouge and how love and his family changed him (but its me, are you surprised?) but THE PARALLELS!! And the potential!!!

So Delico reminds me of current Lilia/Lilia that learned/accepted his ability to love versus Gerhard who reminds me of General Vanrouge who is only about duty and thinks babies should be raised by Nannies and are annoyances etc.

And that’s so funny and interesting to me??? I want to see how this whole situation develops in the future.

Their outfits and mannerisms show it too if you notice when you watch the episode.

(There’s another detail thats a parallel too that you’ll see in the beginning of the episode on why Delico cares so much about his family and why he’s taking it so seriously)

And I’m just?? PLEASE I NEED TO SEE VAMP DADS struggle and see their bonds with their kids, I need to see that look and realization, and Im hoping we get just that ahhh 💚💞🙏

GIVE TO MEEEEE GIVVEEE IT TO MEEEEEE

ANSKKDFFNANDODKDJF

Please come tell me your thoughts or post what you think about it when you watch. Would love to know kallisto 💞💚🫂

[tossawary]

Happy January, everyone!

I’m going to be keeping this icon for another month or so because I like it, but here’s a monthly/yearly update regardless.

I was away for the past week or so, not really able to do much besides post chapters from my phone (did not have access to Twitter), but I’m back now. I think I’m mostly going to spend January doing a little light housekeeping (AO3 comments, tumblr asks, overdue art etc.) while I focus on some job-related stuff for the next month or couple months. I was so busy last month that I had to stop answering a lot of AO3 comments for 41 days or so? It turns out that posting 3 multi-chapter fics in that time span left me with 1,700 AO3 comments. Definitely ending the year on a bang! Thank you!

“forgiveness for whose sake?”, “love to the ones I’ve never met”, “hey, share the weight a little”, and “Sit With Your Soul” were all gift fics for FTH 2022. I intend on continuing my Daemon AU, “Sit With Your Soul”, soon, but I’d like to reread SVSSS first because I’m feeling a little out of touch with the original material. I’ll keep people updated on my progress in regards to that. I’m also going to be writing some commentary for “love to the ones I’ve never met” probably this month. I had a lot of fun with all that prompt writing (I wrote 5 fanfiction novels this year!) and now I’m going to explore some other stuff, so I don’t think I’ll be doing FTH 2023 as a writer. There’s a Moshang Big Bang (10-30k) happening soon, however, that looks a little tempting...

Out of curiosity, how did people like the daily posting of a single arc? I think I prefer the weekly format, but this was also a lot of fun.

I’m lucky enough to be at a point in my life where I can write a lot and quite often very quickly. I’ve had a lot of practice and my living situation is good. I get a lot of fun out of it. And yet creativity can be exhausting. It’s not effortless. It can be hard and frustrating work that eats up a great deal of time and sometimes feels a little thankless. Sometimes, no matter what some people tell you about how good time management fixes everything, there is no time or energy to carve out of your life. (Don’t worry, I’m in a good spot. I just want to offer reassurance.)

After posting my AO3 stats for 2022, I want anyone feeling a little down about their creative projects to know that an inability to write or draw or whatever it is that you do is not your fault. Speaking as someone still working out what boundaries to draw when, who occasionally feels down about all the things I want to do but haven’t found the time for, if you need to draw the line and announce the need for a hiatus with no clear end in sight, it’s fine. If you need to go back on your word and ask for a pause, it’s fine. Don’t walk on strained muscles goes for creative efforts too. Sometimes, you just need to put down the project and go bake yourself the easiest cookie recipe you know, or pop out to the store and treat yourself to food that you don’t have to make yourself, or just lie down for a few hours in the middle of the afternoon on your day off and do fuck all. In my busy periods, I am not actually working every hour of the day; it’s just that instead of spending my free time writing, I am more likely to be napping on the couch. It’s good for the soul.

May you have a restful 2023. ❤

[the-gamer-blog-for-anyone]

Hey, I figured I’d update y’all on why my posts have been few and far between. It’s a bit of venting but nothing terrible. Read if you want.

I’ll start by saying that I’m sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth every so often. I don’t mean to do that, life gets in the way a lot.

Now onto the stuff.

The major I was in (Music Ed) was a big factor this past semester. I got so stressed about things I had to get done that I got sick, not once, but twice in a row with the exact same illness. Mind you, this was within the span of a week or so, not a month; I have never had that happen before. My immune system is pretty good, so I usually heal pretty quick and am back on my feet, so twice with the illness, especially with it being almost worse the second time, is a problem. Even though it wasn’t something detrimental to my health (like pneumonia. Again.), I still know that if that stress had kept up, something like that could’ve happened.

Unfortunately, music education requires hours, and that moves into classes that need them for you to pass. I had already told the school that I didn’t have a car, but even that did not stop them from assigning me to somewhere that would require one. I thought I had it worked out because I was going to go during spring break, but that was when the illness I had the week before decided to make another impromptu visit. Yippee.

On the other end of things, I basically live in a glorified dorm right now at home. My mom, my brother, and I share a room (stuff and all). That leaves no space, which also leads to even more stress. Living with someone who wants us to wait on them every time we are home is not helpful either (meaning the three of us serve them), but we’re working on boundaries, even if they don’t want to participate.

The last thing is that I had already injured my leg before, but because of that injury and the surgery they did, I was informed recently that the increased leg pain I’m having is just something I have to live with until I can get it replaced (which can’t happen until you’re over 55). Considering I just turned 20 over a month ago, that already feels unusual; Most people my age are doing things I can’t do. It’s not that I hate that them for being able to do those activities, nor do I think that they are judging me for my lack of ability to do them (at least not logically), I just wish I could be a normal 20-year-old who can do them.

I’m mainly telling you so 1) you know why I may be somewhat depressed or go radio silent, but mainly because 2) things are getting better, and I plan to be back.

I’ve already changed majors- Bachelor of Arts as opposed to Music Ed- to take some of the stress away. Taking that off my plate already helped a lot. Plus, now I can actually get back on track for my Psychology minor (which has led me to question what my future goals are, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it).

In terms of housing, we recently heard from a friend about a better place to live temporarily until we can get a house of our own. That would help us a lot if that happens, but even if not, we can work it out. My family knows I need space, and I know they need it, too. After talking recently, we’ve figured out how to work it.

PT is doing good for at least keeping my leg stronger than it has been, and that’s a step in the right direction, even if I still have to get surgery within the next year or so.

Are there things that are still stressful and complicated? For sure. Here’s the thing though:

On top of all this, I know I have a good roommate for this coming year who knows me and my quirks. I also have, aside from my moots and friends on here, good college friends I can hang out with and know I can trust to understand if I need a break (love you @lovelyunknown and @joannaksworld). That makes life so much more bearable knowing I’m not alone.

Anyway, I plan to be back making plenty of happy posts very soon… Unless I have no ideas, which is definitely not impossible.

With that, I hope you have a great day. I love you all!

[kikker-oma]

Hi Oma! I love your art soooooo much. You are awesome, and I love your whumptober art, I check every day to see if you have posted! Your art is awesome and if anyone tells you otherwise I will be very angry with them!

Crystal, why must you make me sob with happiness😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

YOURE SO KIND!!!

I’m glad you enjoy my art! And I will let you know if I ever need protection haha, but thankfully people have been very kind to me here🥰

I’m still having tons of fun posting art here for LU! I’m definitely gonna take at least a week off from posting after all the whumptober prompts are done tho haha.

But I’ll be back soon after cus I have other things queued up that I need to post! Like Skyfall pt 2 and some asks that have been in my inbox for like, MONTHS.

Anyways!! Thank you and I hope you have a lovely day❤️❤️

[emerald-notes]

Jack In The Box, album by J-Hope

Notes: It’s time to express some of my thoughts regarding every member’s solo albums and singles. I’ve been putting it off for months. Let’s do it without further delay, starting with the first member to have released his solo album.

1. Intro: 9/10

“It flapped its delicate wings as it danced around Pandora, lightly brushing against her shoulder.”

Basically it’s the story of Pandora in Greek Mythology and the origin of hope in the mortal world. If you haven’t heard it yet, this post is a sign for you to look it up (also check out Ted Ed’s video ‘The myth of Pandora’s box’ for more details). The narration of the story (J-Hope’s intro) is smooth and short. It sounds pleasing to the ears. And it is definitely a unique idea for his album’s intro. I believe what Hoseok’s been trying to tell is that what he is to the Armys is what hope is to all the people on earth.

2. Pandora’s Box: 10/10

“J to the Hope, Jung to the Huimang, Jack in the box”

Only Hoseok can make a fine connection between a myth, a toy and his whole personality and also make total sense. It’s probably my first time listening to a song that is a retelling of a myth. And Hoseok did an amazing job here. The lyrics made my jaw drop, like literally. I said it once and I’ll say it a hundred times, BTS is one of the few artists who knows what poetry truly is. And this song is one of the many living proofs.

3. More: 8.5/10

“My work makes me breathe. So I want more”

The first released song with the music video shook me a great deal like it did to many Armys I’m sure. The sunshine of the group in such a grim-emo kinda look was absolutely out of the blue. Nevertheless, this vibe suits him right. Comparing their passion for making art with an awful addiction is a thing BTS did in their early works too. I can see that theme portrayed from Hoseok’s perspective so well.

4. Stop: 6.5/10

“The only belief that rules over me, ‘There are no bad people in the world’”

The struggle of freeing yourself of the innate nature of being judgmental is portrayed in this masterpiece. Shoutout to Hoseok for speaking about the truth of today's world and people’s values and ethics while still keeping an open mind, making sure not to judge anyone harshly. The lyrics definitely deserve praise. But personally I think it is not a song that I can listen to more than once.

5. = (Equal Sign): 7/10

“Same, the breaths we breathe. Same, the dreams we dream of”

Yes! Sing it, J-hope. Who’s going to give us hope at times of despair if it isn’t you? The change is indeed soon to begin. We’re all in this together. Let’s make a better world without prejudice and hate. BTS, as well as us, the Armys; we believe in ‘Love’.

6. Music Box: Reflection: 10/10

This one is actually brilliant. At first I played it on repeat many times a day. I even set it as my alarm ringtone and it is still there. I know, we shouldn’t be doing that because it makes us hate the music afterwards. But I still couldn’t grow to dislike it. This music has a whole aesthetic to it that makes me imagine myself in a music video everytime I play it.

7. What If...: 8.5/10

“What if I have nothing?”

This one shows what Hoseok has been trying to portray through the whole album pretty directly. You can see him questioning his own personality. Is he really all sunshine and rainbows inside out? I mean, is that even possible for a human? You can hear his passion pouring out in the voice. Chef’s kiss to the bravery of finally speaking out; louder for the people on the back.

8. Safety Zone: 8/10

“In my 20’s, I’m living an endless life”

It hurts when you look up a song and you find the lyrics so sad. The life of an idol is never really easy. People need to keep in mind that these idols are humans too. Give them some break for God’s sake. They talk about their struggles through their songs and yet we fail to see it. I really hope Hoseok finds peace and happiness that he deserves.

9. Future: 6.5/10

“Walking in the future, a step of hope”

The fact that Hoseok worries about his future too shows how much he is like us. After all, at the end of the day, we’re all human. Let’s keep our courage and step forward.

10. Arson: 10/10

“Do I put out the fire or burn even brighter?”

Just think about the poetic effect of the last line of the last song. Even though I liked most of the songs from this album, Arson takes the trophy. The music, the lyrics, the mv, everything is just fine as fine can be. J-Hope never disappoints us with his unique ideas. I’m in love…

Notes: The album is a masterpiece and it deserves all the attention it got and more. Apart from the fact that the music and the beats are all kinda dope, we need to focus on its lyricism too. This album feels like a cry for help. We need to acknowledge Hoseok's struggle as an idol and try to sympathize. Let's try to become the best version of ourselves as fans and let our idols live a normal life while supporting them unconditionally.

[gonerboy]

If you like my work, please read.

(Delta Experiment)

Hey, everyone. I’ve got some really important news to share with all of you.

It’s no secret that my church is the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. You probably know about the missionaries that go door-to-door and teach people. What you may not know is that that’s only one of the ways in which people can serve as a missionary, and that a portion of missionaries assist with charity work and other service.

You can probably guess where I’m going with this. ^^;

Starting on October 15, 2021, i’m going to be away on religious service. If this seems sudden... it was to me too! I was originally going to start in January of the new year, but the date has been moved up as of just a day ago. It’s.. rather daunting... but exciting, at the same time!

What does this mean for my projects?

I’ll have limited internet access, and limited time to work on art. And so, it means Delta Experiment has to go on hiatus. Believe me, I wish I could continue, but there’s just no feasible way I can find the time to work on it in a timely enough manner, especially with the whole survey / audience participation aspect. It requires a sort of internet presence that I just won’t be able to keep up.

Regarding the Discord: Since I’m not going to be here, I’m not sure what will happen to it. I’m still trying to figure out a solution. It may have to be archived for the time being, but we’ll see...

Regarding other art: I may be able to do some artwork here and there, but this would likely be sparse. I’m not really sure if I’ll be able to post it here, either.

How long will I be gone?

I’m not sure exactly. But it’s probably going to be somewhere between 6 and 12 months. It could be longer. Definitely no more than 24 months, though.

I’m sorry to leave so suddenly, especially right on the heels of Deltarune Ch. 2′s release. This is a wonderful time for the Undertale community, and I wish I could continue to make content and laugh alongside everyone. 

But, life has other plans. This is something I need to do, both for spiritual and mental purposes. To tell the truth, I’ve been a bit burnt out on comic creation recently, and I needed a break - this just happens to be the perfect opportunity to take one. I’m really excited to get started, and I think this is going to be a good experience.

I can’t thank everyone enough for your continued support on this project. When we first began, I thought it would be something too niche, or too weird for people to enjoy, but again and again I’ve been surprised by the responses we’ve gotten. Everyone is so kind. I’ve really met some amazing people through this project, including (but not limited to): @thatpastaguy , @cupcakepaints , @kuttiesstuff , @corpupine , @vanwoodva , @twoallnighters , and everyone on the Delta Experiment Discord (looking at you, Bo Tie). I’ve even got to meet some of the creators I’ve admired for a long time, like @wily-art , @lynxgriffin , and @drawloverlala . Everyone listed here is a very cool person, and well worth following, so consider doing that if you haven’t already. There’s more people I could probably name, but we’d be here all day...

Any amount of time away from the internet is a long time. A part of me is really afraid that everyone will forget about this, and that everything will have been for nothing. And if that’s the case, then I’m really grateful to have been able to make something people enjoyed, even if just for a little while. This story means a lot to me, and I really want to see it completed. Making these comics, and the experiences that have followed, have made me extremely happy, and I hope they’ve made you happy, too.

All that being said...

Here’s one more survey for you.

See you later.

Thank you. You’re amazing, really.

And please, don’t forget.

See you soon!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 315: I Didn’t Expect This to Blow Up

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “guess which plot that you thought was dead is actually not dead and is making a comeback!” and we were all “EVIL HPSC??” and he was all “girl you know it,” and that’s the story of how we got a sexy Lady Nagant flashback with lots of guns and murder. Flashback!Lady was all “gotta murder peeps to preserve the people’s trust,” but then a little while later she was like “actually wait that makes no sense,” and so she shot her evil boss and they sent her to jail. Back in the present, Deku was all “okay fair, the hero system might in fact be a little fucked up, but hear me out... have you considered not helping AFO take over the world so he can murder like a bazillion more innocent people??” The chapter ended with the not-all-there Overhaul finally revealing himself to Deku, and I honestly have no idea where this is gonna go.

Today on BnHA: In what is unfortunately the single worst plan ever concocted by anyone in BnHA, Nagant is all “I’m going to try and get this Deku kid to panic and freeze up by putting someone in mortal danger.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t panic and freeze up at the sight of someone in mortal danger].” Nagant is all “omg no way.” Deku, who is now all of a sudden being so OP that even I have to acknowledge that it’s OP lol, is all “[smashes Nagant’s gun arm to bits]”, which sucks but is also really cool, and which also apparently makes Nagant decide that she actually likes this kid after all. Deku is all “NAGANT I REALLY LIKE YOU AND THINK YOU’RE GREAT SO PLEASE JOIN UP WITH ME AND STOP BEING EVIL.” Nagant is all “aw shucks (✿ •͈ᴗ•͈) well okay then” and everyone is all “( ･◡･) ✰ ( ˆᴗˆ ) ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)” and then Nagant FUCKING EXPLODES LIKE AN EGG IN THE MICROWAVE AND FALLS TO HER DEATH!!!! except not really because Hawks saves her??? In conclusion, (a) THE FUCK, and (b) AFO TURN ON YOUR LOCATION I JUST WANT TO TALK.

so I have to tell you guys something, which is that barely ten minutes after I made that “please don’t send me spoilers” post the other day, someone replied to the comments in a stunning fit of “tell me that you’re twelve without actually telling me you’re twelve” energy and posted what seemed to be the copy-pasted spoiler summary from reddit or twitter or whatever lol. so here is my good news/bad news rundown of all that

good news: I have very well-conditioned ABORT!! reflexes and have trained myself to immediately look away from the screen (usually in dramatic fashion) as soon as I realize that whatever I’m reading is a spoiler

bad news: unfortunately as I was subsequently deleting said comments, I accidentally read the very last one

good news??: said spoiler was so unbelievably, absurdly over-the-top that I’m almost positive this person was just trolling. like, there’s just no way lmao

bad news: but in the unlikely event that it is true I will absolutely lose my shit I swear to god

(ETA: “NAGANT DIES.” that was the spoiler I read lol. like, literally all I read from the person’s comments was “My Hero Academia Chapter 315 Title: “Beautiful Words.” Chapter starts with...” and then I noped out of there, and then of all the comments to read as I was deleting, it had to be that one lol. I seriously was just like “SURE, JAN.” all “just how gullible do you think I am” sob. but I was wrong. a troll, but an honest troll they remain.

but anyways like I’m pretty sure Nagant isn’t even actually dead lol, so in the end this whole little adventure doesn’t even have a point to it, but for me it was a journey!)

anyway, so there are apparently two versions of the chapter today?? no idea what the difference is, but I’m going to go with the Bean version, because it’s the one at the top and I don’t feel like making decisions today

huh, so Overhaul is actually more coherent than Horikoshi was letting on

look at him having a whole back and forth conversation with her. side note, how is he still this jacked when he’s been sitting in a cell doing absolutely nothing for the past six months

anyway so he says he’ll go with her on one condition. I wonder what that condition could possibly be. do you think it could be the thing he literally hasn’t shut up about ever since he reappeared lol

yep! and damn -- maybe this guy will surprise me after all

still would be nice if you also felt a bit sorry for the little girl you tortured and traumatized, but this is something at least. maybe Deku will yell at him for that other stuff lol

(ETA: also can’t help but wonder if he wants to make amends because he put him in a coma, or because his plan was a failure and ended up destroying the family. just hoping you’ve finally had that “hurting other people is bad” epiphany dude.)

anyways so now Nagant’s arm is transforming again, and this particular transformation happens to be the only truly unsexy thing that Nagant has done thus far so I’m just gonna skip right on ahead lol

aaaaand we’re back to the delirious ranting

buddy. just. read the fucking room, guy

wow she really is aiming at Overhaul, then. those theories were spot-on

damn she’s really out here all “it really fucks with kids’ heads when you kill people right in front of them and make them blame themselves” like yo

I’m picturing her saying all this in a very loud stage-whispery tone while making very significant eye contact with Deku lol

uh oh but wait

um. okay. who’s gonna tell her. Nagant I might have some bad news for you about the kid you’re trying to capture here. specifically about the way he tends to do the opposite of what you’re thinking that he’s about to do

holy shit

so it’s basically just “tap x repeatedly to charge up your attack” lol

and okay, so that’s cool and all, but is anyone else wincing at the thought of what that must be like on his knees. oh to be young

anyway, but so to the surprise of basically no one, Deku did not, in fact, freeze. I am very sorry, Nagant. he’s just like this

LMAO

someone wanna tell me how getting yoloed in the fucking ribs by this fucking slingshot kid moving at literal sniper bullet speed is in any way even remotely better than getting hit by the bullet itself lol

(ETA: this is 10x funnier now that we know the bullet wasn’t even gonna hit him lmao.)

anyway so now Nagant is having an extended “!?!?!?” reaction about how Deku just moved with no hesitation, and I’m starting to get an inkling of fear that the rest of this fight isn’t going to go very well for her and maybe that’s what all the “hoo boy” is about

oh my god Deku are you about to Gomu Gomu no Rocket yourself at her you insane little man

now Three is popping up again and he’s all “I see you’ve learned your lesson and are now only using three quirks at once instead of five” like with all this effusive praise about how great and badass Deku is and sob, okay, yeah. this chapter is basically one of those machines that shoots tennis balls at people, except instead of tennis balls it shoots hot piping discourse

OH MY GOD

YOOOOOOOOOO but also, NOOOOOOOOOOO

lol oh my god it’s literally two opposing reactions at once wtf. do I love this or hate this. like just for once can Horikoshi actually let a badass lady character win their fucking fight without getting their arm ripped off, BUT ALSO fucking look at that absurdly cool “SMASH” onomatopoeia though. it looks like it’s about to float right off the page holy shit that’s some seriously good art

anyway so is this really the end?? do I need to break out my ಠ_ಠ faces

lmao okay yeah I can definitely see how this would piss a lot of people off

he basically one-shotted her and she’s all “damn this kid is so amazing that I’m about to do a complete 180 turn on all of my previous angst” lmao. Horikoshi is really shounening it up today

on the plus side though, maybe this means there’s still a chance for her to join up with him after all? unless that spoiler was true lmao, then all hell is gonna break loose

YESSSSSSS

OH MY GOD AND HE SAYS THE BULLET WOULDN’T HAVE DONE MORE THAN GRAZE OVERHAUL ANYWAY, wow, I’m actually more relieved by that than I would have expected. I mean I would have forgiven her either way, but it means that there was still more hero in her than she was letting on

YES!!! FUCKING YES, THANK YOU

lol but I mean, it’s also like, “oh so today they get to have brain cells”, thank you so much lol. sometimes it’s really hard to tell which times we’re supposed to question these character decisions that seem dumb, and which times we’re just supposed to full on embrace them and switch off our critical thinking

but okay, so in this case it really was Nagant going easy on him on purpose, and not just her fucking up for no good reason even though she used to do this for a living and was the best in the game. and I know in this case it’s probably just Horikoshi giving us some consolation headpats to soften the blow of her losing so abruptly, but you know what, shit. I’ll take it

also you guys the light is coming back into Deku’s eyes again for just a moment here and I’m having feels about it?? the way it still comes back when he’s reaching out to save someone, and following his own hero path instead of the much darker and lonelier Christopher Nolan path that’s been laid out for him instead that he never wanted?? it’s both reassuring and also very sad

YESSSSSSSSSSS

DO IT LADY OMG PLEASE?? PLEASE COME BE HIS NEW IRRESPONSIBLE ADULT SUPERVISION YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO

AHHHHHHH SHE’S GONNA DO IT AHHHH

p.s. I am now absolutely scared shitless that that spoiler was actually true sob. swear to god, I will throw this manga into a fucking volcano. but we’re almost at the end of the chapter and this seems just WAY TOO GOOD to be true fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f

UCK

NOPE NAH SEND IT BACK, NOPE, NUH UH, DIDN’T ORDER THIS. “GULLIBLE” OKAY FUCK YOU?? “COUNTERMEASURES” NOPE, DON’T NEED ‘EM, WE’RE ALL FINE HERE. WE’RE ACTUALLY GOOD SO YOU CAN JUST GO, OKAY. PLEASE

fuck, lol, I don’t wanna do it. I don’t wanna scroll down what have I ever done to deserve this oh my god

WHAT THE HONEY-ROASTED FUCK

WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKING VOLCANO IN ICELAND THAT I KEEP SEEING ALL THESE PICTURES OF. WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT. LET’S GO

ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

can someone please give AFO a really good, sharpish kick in the balls. just really let him have it. I’m so tired, what the fuck

-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME LOL WHAT

bro. I was literally going through my Excel folders to find the spreadsheet about female characters in BnHA that I made back when Midnight died. was gearing myself up for a wholeass rant. and honestly I might just let all of that continue simmering on low to keep it warm just in case lol, because to tell you the truth I have absolutely no idea what’s happening right now

my girl straight up does not have a face. she used to have a face. people usually need those, idk. like, even if she’s alive, her gorgeous eyebrows are definitely not making it out of this and I’m gonna throw a funeral just for them

how the fuck did AFO just blow her up?? how did he know what was going on?? and if he had a quirk that could explode people at will, why is this the first we’re hearing of it?? you’d think that might have come in handy at Kamino or Jakku, like what

(ETA: present!me, who’s had more than three hours of sleep and can now actually remember facts about the series, would like to remind past!me that AFO gave Nagant a quirk, and so this is probably just more Vestige shenanigans now on his part. that’s also probably why Air Walk suddenly stopped working out of nowhere. still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t go around blowing people up more often though but maybe he thinks it’s gauche.)

Hawks just straight up out of nowhere. just Mirioed his way straight into the chapter just in time to be too late sob. here I was looking forward to seeing your face when Deku showed up with his new best friend. can’t believe Horikoshi deprived us of that moment

on the plus side, WELCOME BACK, HAWKS’S FEATHERS. I have no doubt that in this chapter of Deku being an almighty threequirk-mastering god, and Nagant losing anticlimactically only to be immediately blown up because girl characters in BnHA can only be cool for one fight and one fight only, there are still some people who are focusing solely on the “how dare Hawks get his wings back when he is a MURDERER this is an outrage what about CONSEQUENCES” discourse, and to hell with all the other discourses lmao

anyway, so yeah. wow. and now it’s just occurring to me that maybe the real reason why Overhaul is there is so he can get a head start on that amend-making by actually doing a good thing for once in his life, and using his quirk to heal Nagant. assuming he can still do that

and so now Horikoshi has got me out here actually rooting for Overhaul. you know what, on that note I think I’m just gonna go ahead and call it a day sob

[burnedbyshoto]

a nurses job

— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.

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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs

word count: 5,050

a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.

kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist

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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.

Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero. 

You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.

Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.

At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.

“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”

“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”

A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.

“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.

“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”

That much was true.

You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.

You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping. 

But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.

So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.

All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.

His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’

You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”

Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.

He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.

“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.

“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”

“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again. 

“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”

Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.

“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.

“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.

Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.

With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.

“See ya in a few!”

Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.

You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.

It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.

So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.

Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.

There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.

For now, you were just an asshole tease.

You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.

One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.

Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.

The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.

The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.

All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.

You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed. 

“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.

Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.

A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.

The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.

In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.

And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.

He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.

“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for. 

But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.

“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.

“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch. 

“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”

“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.

“Oh, so did you need help?”

Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”

“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.

You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.

The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too. 

“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick. 

Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.

“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it. 

You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”

With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.

You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”

Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.

“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.

“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!” 

“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”

“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.

Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”

That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.

But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.

“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.

Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.

“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.

Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”

“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.

Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist. 

“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”

The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay. 

You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again. 

“And if I do?��� you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”

“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.

“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.

“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”

“Hah?! Who the fuck—”

You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.

Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you. 

“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”

“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”

“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”

He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.

The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you. 

“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.

“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.

“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn��t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[gotnofucks]

Choose

Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Halloween Challenge! This is my first time posting here, so be kind 😊

 Character pairing: dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve realizes he can’t let you go when you’re stuck in a safe house with him.

Quote: I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Non-con (implied), non-con touching, blackmail, coercion, 18+ only. Please don’t read if you don’t like.

MASTERLIST

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 The rain was falling in torrents and how you made your way through it you would never know. It was only September, but the rain made it much colder and you were so glad that you were in a car with heating on. Steve was driving almost blind and if it were someone else, you would be scared, but it was him and so you let yourself sink into the seat and relax.

 “Take my jacket, you look cold” He said as he shot your slightly shivering form a sharp look.

 You nod and reach behind to take his jacket and wrap it around your body. You do it without hesitation and with no question. Always so trusting and obedient, at least, when it came to him. You were small, in fact positively diminutive when it came to the super soldier sitting beside you and seemed to drown in his jacket. He smiled when he saw you, and you smile back at his cheeky look.

 “How long until we get to the safe house? I am hungry.” You asked, wiggling in your seat.

 “Not long. It’s right in the middle of this clearing. Maybe 10 more minutes”, He answered, reaching over to pat your knee in assurance.

 “You’ve been there before?”

 “Twice. Nat and I set it up just after we took down Shield and then later crashed here with Sam and Buck around 2 years ago. It’s safe and cozy.”

 You hum and played with your fingers. It was only going to be the two of you this time. It didn’t bother you all that much. You would rather it be him than anyone else. Well, maybe Tony, but after him you liked Steve the best. You were one of the younger avengers, having been recruited only two years ago by Clint Barton. You used to work for a covert government organization IMF where Clint was undercover for a few years and seeing your talent with a gun and a computer, he had once asked your help in one of his Avengers missions where you met Tony Stark who immediately took a liking to you and trained you under him.

 You worked as Tony’s tech girl, helping mostly with recon missions for a few months. Then Natasha started training you for field missions and low and behold, you were kicking ass with them for nearly 6 months now. You haven’t done very difficult missions yet, and not a single solo. Mostly you’re paired with Nat and Clint or, as this time, with Steve. Tony assured you he’ll let you do a solo soon, but always lamented that ever since you got outside, he missed his lab buddy.

 You loved these small missions with Steve. He was always patient with you and taught you the drills but didn’t hold back. He would let you take the lead at times and was always proud of even the smallest achievement. At first when you had met, you had been kind if intimidated of his aloofness, but it didn’t take long for you both to bond over cheesy 40s music and your mutual love for art.

 “Y/n, we’re here” Steve announced and got out of the car. You followed, grabbing your small bag and ran through the rain to the porch. It was like a getaway cabin and you were so glad you didn’t have to stay in some dingy hole. You wanted warmth, food, and a comfortable place to sleep.

 Steve shut the door behind you and took off his wet shoes, putting them upside down near the door. You take off his jacket and your shoes too, grateful to be away from the squelching soles.

 “There’s no fireplace” You observe with a pout, and Steve chuckled.

 “Y/n, it’s a safe house. The smoke would let people know someone is living here. We don’t want that now, do we?” He gave you an indulgent smile and walked through to the kitchen, starting to unpack the supplies and food.

 “But I am cold!” You whine, and for that moment Steve realized your age gap. He gestured for you to come to him while he put the water to boil and you slowly approached him with small steps. Once you are in front of him, he looked at your damp hair and clothes, thankful that his jacket had prevented you from getting too wet.

 “You cold, huh?” He asked, hooking a hang around your waist to pull you against his chest. You stumble and steady yourself with both hands against his massive shoulders, your head a couple inches below his shoulder.

 “Yeah” You moan, wrapping your arms around his body. “How the hell are you always warm, eh?”

 Steve chuckles again and continues to cook while hugging you with an arm around your body. This closeness isn’t new. He would never admit it, but Captain Steve Rogers is a serial cuddler and you are his favourite cuddle buddy. He would cuddle you on the couch during movie nights, he would cuddle you after returning from a tough mission and he would cuddle you when you get your period. Steve Rogers was your best friend, and you felt safe with him. But you didn’t know Steve Rogers wanted to be more than just your friend. He wanted you with him when he went to sleep and when he woke up, he wanted you when he cooked and when he took a shower. No, you had no idea that the National treasure of America was in love with you.

 It wasn’t like he was hiding his feelings. He just never came out and said them out loud. Steve often believed that actions spoke louder than words and so he tried to tell you his feelings by doing little somethings for you. He learnt to make your coffee exactly the way you liked, he watched the movies you liked and read the books you read. He learnt to cook vegetarian dishes since you despised any kind of meat. More than anything, he tried to get along with Tony. Tony was your protective big brother/father, and he loved you enough to scare off every man who ever looked at your way. You were the only one in the team to have rooms on the same floor as Tony and you both shared a kitchen. Steve knew that if he wanted you to himself, he needed to get on Tony’s good side. So, he bit his tongue when he wanted to snap and gave his go ahead to things he deeply disapproved of, just to have to build back the old trust. It worked out, since Steve was one of the only people who were allowed a mission with you.

 “Will there be hot water for a shower?” You asked, body being warmed by Steve. He looked down at your face, full of childish innocence and stripped off every hardness after a tired mission.

 “Maybe, but definitely not enough for both of us” Steve commented. The vegetable stew needed to simmer for a while, so he sat you both down on the worn couch in the living room, your head on his shoulder and his arm still around you. He had hoped you would pick up on his feelings, since having you this close did things to him. Your soft body fit so perfectly into his large one that he never wished to part from you. Maybe tonight would be that night.

 “I’ll call Tony and eat. You take that shower and save me some hot water if you can.” You said and took out your phone to let Tony know you were safe and would leave for compound in the morning as planned. Steve looked at you walk away, speaking softly to Tony and wished more than ever that the rain outside would turn into a storm just to prolong your stay. He didn’t get to have you alone a lot at the compound. There were always other people around, always Wanda wanting female company or Peter following you around asking how you impressed Tony. He liked it here in this little cabin, cooking a meal for you after a hard day of work.

 “Tony says to leave early tomorrow so we can reach home by lunch. He wants to take me to meet Stephen Strange” You say suddenly, breaking out Steve from his domestic fantasy.

 “Stephen Strange? Why?”, he asked, frowning.

 “Tony and him and doing some weird wizard-avenger collab in that Nepal place- what is it called, Kamartaj- for a few weeks”, you answer.

 “What’s that got to do with you?” Steve asked, slightly irritated and hands curing into fists.

 “He’s taking me along. Says he doesn’t want me away for so long. Also, this wiz, Dr. Strange, he’s apparently some kind of genius. Tony says I can learn a lot from him. But I think it’s just a ruse. I’m pretty sure they are dating, and he just wants me to meet him”, You say with a fond smile. Steve doesn’t smile or say anything.

 Weeks? You’d be gone for weeks? That too in another country without him. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

 “You wanna go?” He asked in what he hoped was a normal voice. He wanted you to say no, wanted to see that hesitation in your eyes as you thing of being away from him for weeks, maybe months.

 “Sure, I think it would be fun. I wanna see the Himalayas and maybe I’ll visit India too. I’ve got a pen friend there who I’d love to meet.” Your reply was so nonchalant that for a moment Steve just stares, and then he is angry. Here was a perfect chance for you and him to spend time away from the overbearing presence of Tony Stark, but you would rather see snow covered mountains and meet a pen friend in India? He’d only thought you were being a little oblivious of his feelings, maybe deliberately trying not to acknowledge them as you wanted to take it slow. But it seems like you…it seems like you felt nothing beyond friendship for him at all. After all those months spent hugging and laughing together, and yet you would rather choose Tony over him. A rage settled over him and he needed to clench his jaw and curl his arm tight around the back of the couch to stop himself from grabbing you and…and doing things he had rather not do.

 “Take that shower. Leave your wet clothes outside, I’ll see what I can do with them” Steve said suddenly.

 “You sure you don’t want a shower too? We’ve got layers of grim from crawling through that tunnel.” You asked.

 Steve looked at you for a minute, eyes rowing over your small face. He took in the little acne scars you were so self-conscious about, your slightly chapped lips and those beautiful eyes that reared him in. He nodded.

 “Yeah, you go on. I’ll see if I need one” He said and went to the kitchen while you left for the bedroom with the connected bathroom.

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 The bathroom was nicer than you had hoped, probably Nat’s doing if the products where anything to go by. You’d removed your wet clothes outside and stood naked under the stream of warm water, sighing with relief. It was a small mission but brutal on your body. It would have been heaven to have a tub in here, but safe houses were meant to be quick and effective, and this one was way better than others, so you didn’t complain. You were just going to wash your hair when the bathroom door opened, and Steve entered.

 “Steve!” You shouted, hands covering your breast and turning so your back was to him. You looked at him with wide eyes, expecting him to sputter and leave but he stayed, eyes lingering on your ass a bit before meeting your eyes.

 “Got any of that hot water left or have you finished all of it?” He asked, taking off his t-shirt and leaving his chest bare.

 Your mouth opened in surprise as your backed yourself into the corner, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your best friend had just barged into your bathroom while you were showering and showed no signs of leaving.

 “W-what are you doing, Steve?” You asked in a small voice, still covering yourself with your hands the best you could.

 “Taking a shower. I told you we didn’t have enough water for two, so I thought I’d join you. You were right anyway, we are grimy.” He said and fumbling a bit, dropped his pants down too. You panicked, not understanding what was happening as Steve stood in his boxers, taking steps towards you.

 “No. No no no no” You almost chanted that as a mantra, eyes going here and there, not knowing what to do. Steve reached your small body crowded into the corner and slowly, very slowly raised a hand to wipe away the dirty on your cheek. You started at his touch and quickly sidestepped, running towards the door. You didn’t know what had gotten into Steve, but you needed to get out of here. Now.

 You’d taken only two steps before a hand wrapped around your waist and brought you back screeching to a hard chest, back against front.

 “Stop. Steve, let me go. Please.” You said, your tears mingling with the water on your skin, one hand across your chest and other on his wrist trying to pry it off.

 “No sweetheart, you need to take this shower. You’re dirty and tired. Come.” You hated his voice for being soft and soothing still, showing no indication of what he was doing to you. His voice was still your Stevie’s voice, calm, cool, a little commanding and full of affection for you.

 “I- Steve, I don’t want a shower. Not like this, please.” You tried to break away, wiggling and crying but Steve didn’t listen and dragged you back and turned on the water again. You both were bombarded with hot water and stood under it for a minute before Steve turned it off again.

 “Gimme that shampoo, I’ll do your hair.” He said, releasing you from his hold. But it wasn’t any good as you were blocked by the wall on your back and Steve at your front. You hadn’t turned around yet, but now you did. Sobbing, with thighs squeezed tight to hide you down there and hands inefficiently covering your breasts, you looked at him with betrayed eyes. You didn’t try running again. You knew his strength; you have trained with him. He could take you down in seconds.

 “Why are you doing this? What is happening?” Your voice was small and broken, sending a pang through Steve’s heart. He loved you and didn’t want to hurt you, but you needed to see his feelings for you. He couldn’t risk you going away for months. He just couldn’t. His eyes slowly moved down from your face, taking in every inch of your body exposed, not touching, only looking.

 “We’re taking a shower after which we will eat our food while we watch some stupid movie on that laptop of yours. Then, we’ll cuddle and sleep with you on my chest and tomorrow morning you will call Tony and tell him you won’t join him for his trip to Nepal.”

 He was mad. He was insane, you were sure of it. Face burning with humiliation under his gaze, fire began sparking in your eyes. How dare this tall buff blond muffin think it okay to invade your space and demand such things from you? Just who the fuck did he think he was.

 “No. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but you need to stop. Get out, or if you want to shower, let me go out. I’m done with whatever game you are playing.” You sneered at him. Steve had to smile at this, his little spitfire. He didn’t really expect you to give in easily, that’s not the girl he knew and trained. You were with the avengers because you could handle stuff others would wet themselves with. You were strong and he knew that. But he was stronger.

 “What’s gotten into me?” He asked, closing the distance between you so you were against the wall and caged by his arms on either side. His face was inches away and your breathing sped up. He looked cruel and menacing, the blue eyes you loved so much taking on a much darker hue. “You have gotten in me. You got under my skin and in my thoughts and in my heart. Now I want you under me.”

 He bent down and you were sure he was going to force a kiss on your mouth but he surprised you by pressing his lips softly on your forehead like he did when you had nightmares or right before a mission. It was a kiss of reassurance and love, and somehow, that just scared you more. Whatever Steve thought he was doing, he believed it was driven by love. And when Steve loved someone, he loved them without abandon. If he went against everyone to save his friend, what would he do to have you?

 “Steve…please…” You didn’t know what to say or what to do. You wanted to get away from him and cover yourself up to get some control back. You wanted to talk to him and forget this ever happened and get back your best friend.

 “You have two options. First, we both take a bath right now. I won’t touch you where you don’t want me to, we eat, and sleep and you go back with me to the compound like a good girl and tell everyone we are together. Or..” His eyes narrowed here, “Or, I could take you right here, right now and make you mine with little option. I could rail you deep and hard so you will feel me deep inside you for days on end. I know you’re not on birth control and I have no condoms with me, so if you get pregnant, you best believe I’ll have you tied down to myself with a ring on that finger by the end of the month. The choice is yours.”

 Your heart sank. You looked into his eyes, your whole body shaking and knees ready to give up. He was serious! He was absolutely serious, and you had no idea what the fuck happened. Just an hour ago you were sure he was the person who made you feel the safest, but now that sanctuary had been torn apart and some possessive stranger had taken its place.

 “You’re insane. You’ve lost it!” You cry, sliding down the wall as your knees collapsed, folding your knees to hide your nakedness. Steve followed you down and wrapped his arms around your small form.

 “I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched. You own me, my heart and soul. And soon, I’ll have you too. How that happens is your choice. Choose.” His tone bore no argument. You had just one card to play.

 “Tony would never stand for it. He’ll find out, I’ll tell him and then you’ll be done.” You made your tone harsh and full of venom. You don’t know what you expected him to do, but it definitely wasn’t laugh. It was an amused chuckle, like a daddy who was indulging his silly daughter, full of patronizing hilarity.

 “Sweetheart, you don’t think I have a plan for that? Even if I spend months bringing you flowers and singing love ballads from your window, he wouldn’t exactly be convinced. He isn’t exactly fond of me, is he? I had a plan in place for months. I didn’t want to have to use it honestly, I wanted you to come to me of your own violation. But I just thought as a back up plan…” You screamed as he suddenly scooped you up in his arms, still wet and naked and carried you out to the bedroom. He deposited you on the bed and gave you a towel that you hastily covered yourself with. You looked behind you and the door was locked. It wasn’t any use anyway; he could outrun you in his sleep.

 Steve got his phone out and showed you the screen, making your heart drop. There were numerous pictures of you with your family and friends from the past two years. Not just those, pictures of you with your previous team, the IMF, Ethan Hunt, and others. How Steve got these pictures you didn’t know, but it scared you.

 “Everyone, every single person in these pictures has a target on their backs. I have had a sniper after all of them for over a year, mostly just to keep an eye on you and to make sure you are safe. But don’t think for one second that I will hesitate to take them out. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you with me.” He sat beside you on the bed and putting a finger under your chin turned your face towards him. “It doesn’t need to be nasty, sweetheart. I don’t want to be the bad guy. I have never been one and you can keep me from doing anything drastic. All you need to do is convince Tony that you are the one who wants me. You are the only person he actually trusts, so you need to make it believable. He has denied you nothing, and if you come to him yourself and tell him you want me…well…no one has to die, do they.”

 This was a nightmare. Everything that has happened to you today is a nightmare. You didn’t want to believe Steve would hurt anyone, but then you didn’t think him capable of forcing him on you either. If there was even the tiniest bit of chance that he could harm anyone of your friends and family…no. You couldn’t let that happen.

 “Option one”, You whispered softly, eyes downcast and lips trembling.

 “What was that?” Steve asked, turning your face up again so he could look in your eyes.

 “I choose option one. We- We eat and sleep and I call Tony I won’t go with him. Then we can tell everyone we are together.”

 Steve grinned, his happy grin that everyone said only you brought out in him. It unnerved you that a man you loved and respected so much was doing this.

 “My good girl” He praised, and then he leaned down and pressed his mouth on yours. The kiss was gentle and soft, his mouth lazily moving against yours. If it were happening any other way, you would have enjoyed it. He broke away and looked at you with eyes that sparkled. “You’ll love me too, one day. I am yours, and you are mine.”

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 True to his word, you guys ate your dinner and watched a movie as you cuddled like you usually did at movie nights. Steve held you close, sometimes brushing his nose against the side of your neck or rubbing his hand along your sides. Afterwards, he laid down beside you, spooning your small body and holding it snug against his. He was warm, and you didn’t have anymore fight in you for today. The day was too fast and weird for you to process. You vowed to sleep now and to think of a way to get to Tony without arousing Steve’s suspicion. You weren’t ready to give up now.

 You’d been asleep for only a couple hours before you felt cold air around your body. You woke up with a start and found yourself on your back, your t-shirt removed and Steve hovering over you, placing open mouth kisses along your bare chest.

 “Steve! Steve stop!” You screamed, pushing against his chest. He looked at you with eyes blown wide with lust and taking your hands in one of his, he held them up while he tweaked your nipple with his other making you squirm. He bent down and swallowed your protests with a deep kiss, his tongue forcing its way inside your mouth and tasting you while he moaned.

“Steve please,” You were sobbing now, and trashing your legs which he held down with a strong thigh. “You…you promised. You said I get to choose. I chose option one”

 Steve looked at you for a moment then kissed your cheek softly. Moving his hand between your thighs he murmured in your ear, “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t wait anymore”

[wevegottogetaway]

El Patrón

I’m so excited to finally be posting this piece. I’ve been working on it for the past few days and it’s been consuming my mind. If you like angst, smut, art student Harry, and great plot twists, this story is for you, so buckle up, cause you’ve got 13700 and then some waiting for you! And on that note, I don’t thing I have many words left in my brain... so, hope you enjoy xx

TW: smut, fool language

After her first day back to classes, Y/n is not surprised to see Harry Styles’ lanky frame standing behind the bar of Bottom’s Up. She hoped that he would bugger off to work some place else but alas, all her summer prayers were unanswered. For yet another semester, she would have to endure bartending by his sides, trying with all her might not to jab a corkscrew at his throat every time he opened his gob. Granted, she could have switched jobs herself, but the pay is too good to turn down and the bar sits literally right around the corner from her place; a match made in heaven if you ask her. Besides, she’s been mastering the art of tuning out the insufferable green-eyed prick for two years now, so what’s one more? Of course, knowing it is likely to be the last - having just kicked off the final year of her psychology major - makes the news easier to stomach. And with any luck, the fool did some sort of soul-searching over the break and came back a changed man.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her delightful presence again. Knew you couldn’t stand to live without me, y/l/n." Harry greets her with a smirk as he looks up from his phone. 

Well, some much for change, but luck has never been on y/n’s side anyway; she knew it was wishful thinking to entertain the idea of a pleasant or even tolerable Harry. "Shut it, Styles. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit," she quips back and goes straight to the employee’s locker room to dispose of her stuff and swap her top for one bearing the bar’s logo. Once done, she takes a brief look in the tattered mirror still hanging by the door to readjust her ponytail, before joining her co-worker behind the counter. The bar is rather quiet for now, clock having not chimes 6pm yet, but y/n expects the place to be soon crawling with students drinking the classes’ return off their mind. 

The next few minutes are spent in unexpected peaceful silence, y/n prepping for the upcoming rush while Harry idly sits by, not lifting a single finger to help her out. Admittedly, he’s completed all his pre-shift duties during the last hour, but y/n doesn’t think it warrants the smug look painted on his face as he watches her battle a jar of olives with an old opener and  a concentrated frown. So peaceful silence was a bit of a stretch, maybe.

Then to make matters worse he decides to taunt her, "I see you’ve grown zero muscle strength over the break. Too busy vegetating on the beach?" 

The surge of anger triggered by the provocation is enough impetus for her to crack the can open, but it doesn’t stop her from turning to face him, "I see you’ve grown zero neuron in that thick head of yours. Too busy making people miserable instead?" she counters with flaring nostrils and a look of disdain hardening her features.

"Ah, still got a feisty mouth on you. ‘Was worried you might turn soft on us." Harry sasses back, but y/n doesn’t bother telling him off this time. No matter how strong her comeback, he’ll just brush it off with that smile of his that irritates her to no end. That’s the thing with Harry, the bastard has the thickest skin of all, he’s downright unattainable. And believe it or not, bad-mouthing doesn’t come naturally to y/n, he just seems to draw it out of her, perhaps as the trigger of some kind of survival instinct. Time and time again she’s tried to come up with a quip that would leave him speechless, tail between his legs, but he always has a wittier reply to throw back at her. For so long they’ve been playing this debilitating game of ping pong and she has yet to claim a point to his countless wins. 

It’d been the case since their first meeting on that dreadful Friday two years ago. Y/n was about to embark on her second year at uni and decided to get a job so she could afford her own place instead of the dreary dorms she’d gotten used to. Bottom’s Up had seemed to be the perfect choice, a 2 minutes walk from the sweet little apartment she’d just visited a few days prior. She’d been excited for her first shift that night, air still warm from the Indian summer sun drawing a plethora of eager students to come enjoy their last day of freedom. Her happy jitters had quickly dissolved once she’d made her way in the staff-only area located behind the bar though. There, she’d walked in on a very frustrated Harry vociferating at a lost-looking colleague, "how many times do you have to fuck up before doing your bloody job, Steve? Stop sitting on your lazy ass, or I swear I’ll-" 

She’d come to this Steve guy’s defense then, furious at the tall curly hair jerk for bullying his way around, "stop it, you asshole. You can’t talk to people like trash, who do you think you are?" Granted, she didn’t know it at the time, but the lost look on Steve's face was in fact pretty standard for the amount of weed in his system; nor did she know that the lad could actually win the Olympics of lazy asses hands down, should such a discipline be appended. It was too late to call off the hostilities though. War had been declared, and aside maybe from that one time he had graciously accepted to cover for her when she’d had a trip to Brighton planned for one of her classes, no truce had ever been reached. Besides, she’s sure it was more so because he was low on cash rather than to fulfill the hidden desire to help her out for once in his life.

Now, as she finishes wiping her work surface with a wet cloth, y/n wishes more than ever to be teleported in a parallel universe where she doesn’t have to work with the bane of her existence, much less see his annoyingly handsome face four times a week. (Also, exams would only be optional in this alternate reality of hers, but that’s another fantasy for another day.) Mainly, she’s just glad she doesn’t see him around campus ever, the art building standing all the way across from the psychology department. At least she’s Harry-free the moment she steps out of the bar; she’d probably have a nervous breakdown if she had to put up with his antics outside of work.

                                                       ***

A month in the new semester, the novelty of it all has finally worn off to make way for routines to settle in. Y/n’s weeks now consist in a well-practiced cycle of sleep, study, eat, work and occasionally go out with her best friend Mia. Her shifts at Bottom’s Up still prove to be challenging because of the company she’s forced to keep but things seem to have calmed down at the bar too. Students are now less inclined to party the week away, mainly indulging during the second half of the week, but more importantly, Harry appears to be less of a smug bastard and more of a sulky sod. For some reason, the lad has been stuck in a sullen mood, constant frown wrinkling his forehead. He has reverted to distant one-word answers as though he is saving a dictionary worth of words for whatever conundrum is going on in his brain. Y/n doesn’t mind though, and almost welcomes the transition if it means less digs taken at her expense.

Now y/n finds herself on her way to the campus library for a much needed paper-writing cramming session (the assignment is due the following day and she barely has two thirds of the work completed). After a quick stop by the coffee shop down the block, she finally strides in the lobby of the library, ready to dive nose first into the riveting matters of cognitive psychology. She’s already so focused mulling over concepts’ definition in her mind, that it takes her a minute to realize something is going on.

It’s nothing major really, no big fire rushing around the premises or fist-fight breaking the crowd into a frenzy. No, just everyone seemingly hushing and gasping, bewildered expressions etched upon their faces as they keep pointing towards the nearby study room. Truthfully, y/n might have been completely oblivious to it, it she weren’t a psychology major; but reading people’s feelings and interactions is kind of her thing, so she does notice the bubbly energy infiltrating the usually quiet space. What could possibly have them so intrigued, she wonders as more students come out of the room with the same looks of wonder.

Her confusion is finally quelled when she steps into the study room in question and her eyes fall on what has everyone so engaged. On the wall to her right, between two sets of shelves brimming with decades-old books, hangs a life size canvas of audacious shapes and bold colors. Not one seems to have been left out, the painting seemingly transporting the viewer in a psychedelic albeit appealing trance. It’s full of contrasts, an embodiment of serenity and boldness at the same time, and y/n can’t stop ogling the masterpiece for the life of her. The amount of passion is so obviously overwhelming, yet she can feel all of the artist’s emotions underneath each of the brushstrokes.  

After another minute of wondrous observation, her thoughts are interrupted by a foreign voice. "El Patrón? I wonder who that could be," the stranger wonders aloud, and her eyes immediately drift off to the bottom right of the painting to catch the small but unmistakable signature: black cursive letter spelling the two words withholding the real artist’s identity. The mystery only adds up to the appeal of the work and y/n already feels a bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach at the idea of ever finding out what beautiful soul is responsible for such mind-bending work. She hopes this won’t be last she sees of it. 

                                                       ***

It’s Friday night and unfortunately for y/n, she’s stuck at work with her least favorite person in the world. It’s all the more unfortunate that Harry seems to be back to his usual annoying self, his thoughts finally free from whatever trouble had plagued them, and eager to fall back into nuisance mode. Less unfortunate for y/n and much to Harry’s discontent, Mia decided to stop by and keep her company. Though she feels slightly sorry for her having the act as her buffer for the night, y/n figures she’s more than making up for it with every free cocktail she keeps sliding towards her friend. Their conversation is scattered at best since patrons keep interrupting them for a fresh pint of ale, but as the night slowly dies down they manage to talk longer than 20 seconds.

The manager of the bar has long clocked off and gone home, as per usual on Friday nights, leaving both her and Harry the pleasure to indulge in a few drinks of their own. They don’t do it every week and always keep it low-key of course; Mia’s tonight presence mostly accounting for y/n’s partaking while Harry just likes a nice glass of tequila when the week-end comes around and there’s nobody to tell him off about it. One thing they never do though, is drink together, like two friends celebrating yet another week they survived at uni. Come to think of it, the only thing they do share is a job position and their never-ending bickering. Cheers to that, y/n takes another sip of her gin martini in sarcasm. 

She’s brought back to reality by Mia as the tipsy brunette lets out a loud gasp before she inquires in a slightly high-pitched voice, "y/n! totally forgot to tell you, went by the library today and you’ll never guess what was there!" 

"Oh my god, you saw the painting too, didn’t you" y/n answers, excited at the idea of discussing the whole thing with her best friend. Truth be told, the majestic work of art hasn’t left her mind since she’d first seen it a few days before. 

"Yes" Mia squeals in confirmation, "I mean, it’s kinda impossible to miss. I wonder how they got it there without anyone seeing."

Y/n has wondered the same thing and she came to one conclusion, "they probably sneaked in last Sunday after the library closed, it’s the only time the building is empty," Mia humming in agreement. The campus library is opened 24/7 all days except on Sundays, so realistically speaking it is the only window of time that would allow for such an experiment. Whether said experiment required an actual break-in or was conducted in full legality remains a mystery but that is just bygones in y/n’s eyes. She’s much to mesmerized by the work to give a damn about how it got there in the first place. 

"Oi y/l/n! What are you two fawning over this time" Harry chirps in the conversation, uninvited as always, and y/n hates how condescending he just sounded.

"Not that you could ever understand something with substance, if your lack thereof is any indication, but it’s none of your damn business," y/n spats out dismissively but Mia’s Margarita-induced brain seems to have forgotten all about their concerted hatred for piss-taking bartenders.

"Harry, you’re an art major aren’t you? D’you know who’s behind that beautiful painting at the library?" 

Y/n tilts her head back in a sigh at her friend’s behavior before turning to watch the puzzled look on Harry’s face. He seems to silently gauge the both of them; for what, y/n doesn’t know, and then his whole expression switched to a blasé look. He shrugs in disinterest, "who cares? ’s just one more Banksy wannabe who’s trying at it too hard ‘f you ask me." 

Y/n takes it as a personal offense, her admiration for the painting outweighing any instinct she has of avoiding the brazen man taking a sip of his tequila on rocks across from her, "of course you’d say something like that. You’re just jealous you’ll never compete with his talent."

Harry raises a brow at her accusation, "and how would you know since you’ve never seen any of my work?" 

It’s a valid point, but not enough to rebut her. "Doesn’t take a genius to know a shallow mind like yours could never create something as deep and transcending. That would require actual emotions from you Harry and we both know the only emotion you’re capable of spreading is irritation." 

For once she’s confident she’s gonna have the last word, but in true Harry fashion he just gives her a bored look as if to say ‘is that all?’ towel thrown over his shoulder, "right, and here I thought talking to people like trash was a bad thing. You should really take a page out of your own book, y/n, wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re as big of a jerk as I am." Then he turns back to face the room full of customers, and tends to one disheveled looking guy slurring out an order. 

Y/n barely registers the friendly "alright Joe, but ’s the last one," Harry rasps out to the guy, her ears are still ringing from the last words he’d said to her. More specifically, the little truth they held despite how much he deserved the backlash, and y/n absolutely loathes the way her throat seems to be closing in on itself. She’s afraid she’s turning like him, bitter words at the ready and always trying to outdo his own taunting spiels. Before anxiety can settle in her bones though, she swallows back the knot tightening in her airways and goes back to serving customers and conversing with her friend.

                                                        ***

The next time it happens, she expects it even less. A couple weeks have passed since her gruesome interaction with Harry at the bar, and along with her doubts, all thoughts about art have seemed to vanish from her busy mind. She’s had a few tests occupying all her free time and now that they’ve been done and over with, all she can think about is calling Mia up to plan their next night out; she needs a few drinks that she didn’t make for once. 

She’s about to take her phone out of her pocket to send her best friend a text, when she enters the lecture hall of her Monday experimental method and research design class. The déjà-vu feeling that creeps up her spine stops her from completing the action, and y/n frowns at how her fellow students seem to be all entranced in deep conversation, exchanging baffled looks with one another. Even the sleeping kid that sits at the back seems to be more alert than during their last fire evacuation procedure test. 

It’s then y/n turns around to see what is hanging at the front of the room, covering the large board. This time, the colors were carefully handpicked by the artists, flashes of pink and yellow dancing along to a frenzied rhythm of salsa as their union creates powerful jets of oranges across the canvas. It vaguely reminds her of the pendant she wears on a daily basis, rose gold laurels wrapped around a delicate sunflower, an orange topaz incrusted in its center. The painting is of abstract nature much like the last one, but the movements of the brush still bring her mind back to the jewel presently nestled between her collarbones. How odd.

The piece is slightly smaller than the last but no less impressive, catching the attention of even the least artistic eye. The sensibility of the artist is so distinct, intentions clearer and more in touch than most people with their own. For a second, y/n thinks she’s glad the pieces have only been ones of unadulterated happiness and colorful bliss so far, because god knows how heart-wrenching the outcome would be if all this uncorrupted honesty was used to fill canvas with pain.

As the professor enters the room, everybody settles back on their seat, and wait for the chap’s reaction. "Well, that sure is something. It seems we have a bit of a mystery painter on our hands, don’t we; and a talented one at that," y/n’s professor smiles at the class as he pulls a computer out of his satchel and places it at top of the front desk. His words make her look back at the artwork, this time settling on the small signature reading El Patrón on its corner. And it’s all it takes for Y/n’s obsession with the anonymous artist to be back in full force.

                                                       ***

That night she can’t stop raving about the painting as she starts closing the bar after a long and tiresome shift. She’s got a shoulder pressing her phone to her ear, Mia on the line, while she absentmindedly sweeps the floor. Normally the exertion of the job would have her stifling yawns and her bones aching but tonight her voice is perky as ever as she recollects the pinnacle of her day, "you shoulda been there Mia, it was gorgeous. And same as last time, like you’d be minding your business, doing your thing and then boom, it’s there. Damn, this guy is a genius."

As she comes back around the counter, Harry makes sure she notices the roll of his eyes. He’s been wiping and tidying the bar space after making sure everything is stocked up for the next day, all the while listening to her drone about El Patrón and his stroke of genius, praise after praise falling from her lips. She completely brushes off the patronizing gesture and that’s perhaps what irritates him the most. She’s barely acknowledging him or his stunts with all her attention placed on the mystery painter and well, Harry quite likes riling her up. Doesn’t do it out of spite, but merely because he likes the way it ignites a fire in her that he’s seldom seen in people. But now, all her fire is directed elsewhere and he doesn’t know what to think of it.

                                                         ***

Over the next month, the rumors around El Patrón spread like wildfire as more and more of his works are found scattered around campus. Much to y/n’s delight, she always seems to fall upon them as though they’ve been placed specifically on her path. It didn’t start as obvious though; the first following pieces hung in common areas around campus such as the lunch hall or the student center but as time went by they tended to follow her whereabouts somehow. Y/n knows she’s probably fabulating but when she’d stumble across two absolutely stunning pieces in the lobby of her gym and at the entrance of the psychology building, she couldn’t help but feel deeply attached to them. And the possibility that this mystery artist might have the same attachment to her, only fuels her obsession further, sending her reeling with all but one nerve-wracking question: who is this guy?

And it’s not like she’s the only one pondering over their identity either. Hell, the genius has literally everyone on campus under their spell, trying to uncover the enigma of the year. Everyone seems to be determined to find clues, easter eggs hidden within the paintings that could lead them closer to the truth. El Patrón has effectively turned the whole uni into a large-scale game of Cluedo, people speculating left and right and swapping theories about who it can or cannot be, what year they are probably in, or whether they have an accomplice. Nobody has ever executed such a tour de force in the history of campus, and it has everyone one edge, y/n included, desperate to be in the loop.

The fact that each painting is more beautiful than the last and always seems to connect with her in personal ways doesn’t help her daydreaming either. Take the one she found at the gym for example, for a few second she’d sworn she was looking at a familiar piece of the English South Coast, dark hues of blue fighting dots of white, reminiscent of the way foam always seems to top even the most raging waves as they crash along shores. She’d only had to close her eyes to feel the wind blowing her hair in a thousand directions and the sand engulfing her feet, making its way between her toes and every crevice of her skin. She was still in the middle of her gym when she reopened them though, her sport bag straddling her shoulder as she kept gaping at the painting in adoration.

Her suspicious keeps nagging at her head, the desire to unveil the identity of her beloved artist getting stronger by the day. The feeling is almost unbearable when she spots yet another work of his across from Bottom’s Up. The coincidences keep piling up and the more she mulls it over, the more she’s convinced this mystery guy is talking to her. Damn, is it possible to have a crush on someone because of their work? After months of this cryptic scavenger hunt, she’d dying to know if all her theories are right and the fact that she has no way to find out, is positively killer her.

That’s why when she stumbles across a flyer for a midterm exhibition gala hosted by the art department as she waits in line at her favorite coffee shop, she doesn’t think twice before jotting down all the info. In a week time, most of the uni’s art students would be gathered up in one place to present their term’s work. The chances are too high for y/n to pass up the opportunity, her guts telling her he’ll be there. It makes sense doesn’t it? Surely, this El Patrón ought to be an art student if not a teacher. How else would they have access to all the campus amenities most of the paintings were found in? 

As she goes to pick up her coffee from the counter, y/n walks with a newfound spring in her steps; she really can’t wait for this gala to happen.

                                                       ***

Y/n stands at the entrance of the art building, a black floor-length long-sleeves open-back dress hugging her curves in all the right places. Her heart speeds up at the nervous jitters crawling underneath her skin, and the million question swarming her frantic mind. What if he actually doesn’t know her and doesn’t give a damn about her thoughts on his work? What if it’s actually a woman and she’s been hiding a man’s pen-name to consolidate her deceit? Is she about to make the biggest fool out of herself by coming to this exhibition? She doesn’t know anyone here, nor has she ever been to this kind of event before but she’s decided this guessing game has run its course. Maybe this all thing has nothing to do with her and that’s okay. All she really wants is to have a chance to tell this exquisite mind how remarkable their work is; the rest be damned.

Y/n slowly makes her way inside, and after a quick stop at the coat room to dispose of the unnecessary garment, she is finally greeted by a room full of dressed-up people roaming  and chatting around, champagne flutes in hands. How cliche, she thinks with humor, before picking up a glass of the bubbly beverage. It’ll help sooth the nerves, she reasons as she starts walking around the place to observe each of the displays. Despite not having had a glimpse of her number-one painter yet, she finds herself having a good time. Most of the work offered to her is engaging in one way or another; some pieces quite provocative is their depiction, others straight out pushing the limits of 2D, with structures coming out of the canvas as though they were about to grip at the viewer. 

Turning at a corner, she comes across his art before she sees him, having almost forgotten art was supposedly his thing too, and she realizes she actually knew someone here apart from the mysterious painter. She takes a brief look at his tall frame, the baby blue suit over his crisp white shirt fitting him perfectly. A black tie is completing the look, and it makes y/n waver for a second. She’s never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans and the bar’s t-shirt every employee is supposed to wear on call. Granted, even that he can make work better than anyone else she can think of, but that suit is something else altogether. 

Her eyes shifts back to his work, not wanting to waste too much time on his appearance; she is here on a mission after all. She can’t deny his painting is good as much as she wants too. It’s made of a perfectly executed optic illusion that has her pause for longer than she intended to. The colors are picked wisely only adding to the entrancing design, tempting the viewer to reach out to the painting to convince themselves that this is fact a pretty subterfuge and no reality; the frontier between both worlds much too hard to distinguish. Just like for the rest of the exhibition, a single plaque hangs underneath the canvas, introducing the title of the piece above the name of its artist: Fine Line by Harry Styles. Damn, the bastard had to be talented…

"Is it as depthless as you thought it would be?" A hoarse voice interrupts her inner thoughts. She knows it’s his at the first word and already she regrets ever thinking positive things about him.

"Funny, I would have shared a compliment but you just had to go and open your stupid mouth," she bites back as she fully turns around to face him. She can feel is eyes shamelessly scanning her body, sending her nerves on overdrive. She wants this exchange to be as curt as possible, she’s got important matters to tend to.

"Here for you mysterious bloke, I presume?" he inquires in a taunting voice.

"What’s it to you, anyway?" y/n dodges the question with another, hoping it’ll steer the conversation toward its end.

She’s answered by rosy pouting lips, a hand on his heart in faux vexation, "ouch, was just hopin’ you’d come to see me, and now you’ve just crushed my dreams, love."

The pet-name is not lost on her and Y/n has had enough. In own gulp she downs the rest of her champagne and forces the glass to his chest for him to hold as she makes her way past him, "just leave me alone and go be a pain in someone else’s ass, Harry." She doesn’t wait to see if he’s following her as she marches across the room in long and purposeful strides. 

Something in the corner of her eyes catches her attention right then. Halting abruptly, almost making someone walk right into her, she turns her head to the side and that’s when she finally sees it. A whole part of the wall has been dedicated to his work, a shrine of his most outstanding pieces randomly hung against the white surface. Y/n recognizes each and every one of them, but then her eyes take in the extra work added for the exhibition: next to each of the pieces are displayed a bunch of photos capturing the students’ expressions as they first discovered the paintings. Dozens of faces lighting up in amazement, widening eyes and finger pointing at the unexpected intrusions; some show confusion and puzzlement while others simply behold laughter and animated conversation.

In the center of the wall, a video is projected. It’s a compilation of those same moments but this time captured on tape. The sound was removed, but as y/n takes in the faces of her fellow students she can almost hear the sound of their laughters; she’d been there for most of it after all. She thinks the idea is amazing, El Patrón has managed to make the viewer a permanent part of the art. The paintings are marvelous of course, full of emotions and passion, but the mysterious artist has gone one step further by also displaying how those emotions had reflected back on the audience. It is an ode to art, to the power of sharing, and proves art is limitless; not owned by museums, not bound between walls and certainly not restricted for trained-eyes only. Because art isn’t all about beauty, it speaks for the need for sharing that human have but often forget, and this is a perfect reminder of it.

The next tape playing has her eyes doubling over the video, a small gasp escaping her lips as she takes in her own figure. It was taken the day she found the painting at the gym and unlike all the other videos she’s alone. No group of students by her side elbowing her in disbelief, or sharing a puzzle look with her. Just her doe eyes gleaming at the painting, lips slightly parted in pure wonder, as she studies every inch of the canvas. And the feeling that this might mean just as much to him as it does to her comes back crashing on her. She’s not paranoid; this artist his using her as some kind of inspiration, she’s sure of it. Random cannot be this accurate, it would defy any laws of statistics. 

After the slideshow finally moves on to the next video, y/n looks around in the hopes of finding the man that has wormed his way into her heart. She’s imagined it a thousand times over during the past week. A young man would be discretely standing on the side, watching the evening pan out and waiting for her to find his work. Then they would make eye contact and he’d make his way over to greet her and share more of his beautiful mind with her. That’s the happily ever after she’s hoped for since that first painting in the library, but alas everyone around her seems to be engrossed in conversation about this and that. 

"I thought he would be there too," the unexpected voice makes her jump. She recognizes the student from that first day, she’d also be intrigued by the mysterious man.

"I know, all of his work is here, he has to somewhere around," y/n tries to convince herself. She hasn’t given up yet, she won’t let herself unless she goes home tonight empty-handed. Only after that will she stop searching, she promises herself. If he doesn’t show up tonight, then that’s because he doesn’t want to be found.

The girl next to her has the same disappointed tone when she explains, "you’d think so, but I’ve been asking everyone around and nobody has a clue still."

Before y/n can come up with her own rationalizations, someone starts speaking in a microphone, asking for everyone’s attention. It’s a man in his early fifties making a speech about the whole reason behind the exhibition so y/n pegs him as the head of the art department. "Thank you all for coming tonight, it is always a pleasure to see so many of you supporting our young talents. As you may know, tonight’s exhibition signs off our students’ final work for the semester, and will also see one of them receive a one-time collaboration with a renown art gallery in the city. Now, before the judges finish deliberating, let me tell you a bit about the topic of this exhibition which, by the way, serves as the main criteria for this contest. Our artists were asked to work around audience engagement and crowd reaction. The task was to produce art that would prompt an active response from the viewer and go beyond a passive experience. I hope this info helps this event take all its sense, I’ll let you all meander for a couple more minutes before we announce the winner. Thank you for your presence." 

Since she has a couple more of minutes, y/n decides to take advantage of the fresh insight she was just given about the artwork and goes around the exhibition one more time. The whole thing does take on a new meaning, now that she knows what was going one in the students’ mind as they first got their assignment. But what has her in awe really, is El Patrón’s coup de maître in all of this, because unlike any other applicant here tonight, he’s had the strongest reactions from the public for months now and had even documented it. So really, in a way he’s already won, no bias to blame. The amount of work and planning behind such a tour de force surely has exceeded everyone’s expectations and secured the number-one position for the still-to-be-revealed artist. In the pocket, as they say.

"Alright everyone, without further ado we are going to announce the lucky talent selected by the judges tonight," the head of department speaks up again. "On behalf of the whole department, I would like to salute each and every one of the students that presented their work tonight. Skills are certainly not scarce among you all, and as always it gives me great pleasure to see you all grow into yourselves alongside your craft. As you know, there can only be one of you coming up to this stage tonight and I must say, this semester has proved to be full of surprises. Never in my 26 years working here have I ever seen something of the sort, so ladies, gentleman, I have no idea who is about to join me now, but please give a warm round of applause for El Patrón!" 

The room explodes in loud cheers as people clap their hands in honor of the mysterious artist. Y/n probably the loudest amongst them all, is still craning her neck in every possible directions trying to catch sight of anyone moving towards the stage. The standing ovation quickly fades into silence as everyone realizes nobody is coming to claim their prize. The usual hushing following any of El Patrón’s stunts is once again spreading across the room to match people’s incredulity at the situation. It was one thing to keep their identity a secret, as it was clearly a crucial condition for the plan to work, but now that it is all over and done, prize ready for the taking, it doesn’t make much sense.

"Mister El Patrón? I think you more than deserve to drop your mask and receive your prize," the host reiterates in hopes that the much awaited artist comes out of his lair, but he’s met with the same result. Perhaps he’s not here after all, or perhaps y/n was right to think he might not want to be found, but regardless a strong feeling of disappointment takes over a body. He won’t be coming, she knows. No matter how many times the host calls for him, he won’t be coming. 

She lets out a long sign in frustration then, she really thought tonight was the tonight. But now that the evening is coming to its end, tears pearl at the corner of her eyes and she just wants to go home and forget all about El Patrón. Aren’t artists supposed to be dark and twisted anyway? Maybe she just dodges a bullet, she tries to make herself feel better, but no amount of sarcasm can save her from the painful pinch at her heart. As she comes to term with the fact she won’t get any more answers by staying (and possible ever), she decides it’s her cue to go. 

On her way to the exit, her eyes fall upon Harry’s slightly hunched figure. He seems deep in his thoughts, eyes fixed towards the floor though he’s not looking at anything in particular. For some unknown reason, y/n is not irked by his presence like she usually is. He’s just lost a great career opportunity so his preoccupied disposition is understandable. Feeling as though she needs to end the night on a different note - whether positive is yet to be determined - she approaches him slowly as not to startle him. "Your painting is really good. I’m sorry you didn’t win, but you should still be proud," she softly tells him to cheer him up. At least, one of them might get to go home in higher spirits. 

He looks up at her then, curls bouncing on top of his head, as he aligns his two glistening emeralds to her own gems. He seems quite surprised to hear her voice, probably rightfully so since he can count on one hand (scratch that, one finger) the number of times she’s actively sought him out for conversation. She can tell he’s debating whether to say something or not, as they keep their eyes locked. It’s probably the longest and only civil exchange they’ve ever had, and somehow it manages to soothe some of her sorrows. 

Y/n likes this reflective side of him, she realizes. Not that she wishes him any torments (at least not tonight) but his quietness makes him look vulnerable in that beautifully human way for once. That’s twice he’s proven her wrong about the assumptions she had on him, tonight: first his talent, now his character; she doesn’t know what to make of it. Silently, she accepts the timid smile and light nod he offers her in gratitude, before making her way to out at last.

                                                       ***

Two days after the night of the exhibition, y/n still has a hard time to let her grievance go. Her mood has yet to upgrade from crappy at best, and the fact that all the artwork has been removed from their previous spots is not helping much. Of course she knew they had been put down for the big night, but her heart still missed a beat when she went to the gym only to find the walls of the lobby bare of any craft that would liven up their otherwise dull and colorless structure. Just like her state of mind, she’d joked. And y/n is not one to throw pity parties, especially to herself; but then again, she’d never fallen under the charms of a faceless virtuoso because his art brought to life parts of her that she’d believed otherwise dormant, only to be metaphorically stood up at the end of the process. So really, what does she know anymore?

Now that she’s back at work, she revels in the constant effort she has to provide. The ever-growing list of task to complete gives her mind reprieve and focus, but she still hasn’t budged from her unusually distant and withdrawn self. Even harry’s own standoffishness hasn’t caught her attention; a week ago, his awkward demeanor would have flashed red flags all over her radar. An unfiltered narcissistic prick he could be, but y/n has never known him to be anything even resembling reserve; apart maybe from that one fate-less night not even 72 hours ago when she found him on the outskirts of the attention even though she knew full well that he is more of center kind of guy.

As they’re about to start closing, the awkwardness becomes more palpable by the second. They’ve skirted around it during the whole shift, the steady solicitation of customers enough to ignore the growing tension; but as the last of the patrons finally make their way out of the bar, an eery silence settles in their wake, making them both want to crawl out of their skin. Even the heavy-served drinks they’ve indulged in, despite the absence of their respective motives, hasn’t help assuage the strain between them. Instead, they start their usual routine in overrated silence, y/n in charge of the floor while he tends to the bar. Then before long, Harry bursts the uncomfortable bubble they’ve locked themselves in, voice void of its usual teasing tone, "so, what’s got you so grumpy?" he inquires.

"Please don’t start, Harry. I really can’t be bothered tonight," y/n sighs in response, failing to recognize the note of concern in his question and thinking she wouldn’t survive another bickering session. It hasn’t been the lad’s intention though, so her false accusation has his thick skin itching against his will. To be honest, Harry’s never taken much offense from any of their past squabbles no matter how hard she’d come at him, but this one he can’t brush off. Not when for once, he’s trying to be decent, dropping the attitude he knows rubs her the wrong way and she responds by telling him to get lost.

"Fuck sake, I wasn’t tryin’ to start anythin’" he berates her for lashing out unjustifiably, "you need to take a chill pill." The hostile reaction as her pausing mid-swipe in the middle of the room. He was always so unbothered by everything she said, she hasn’t expected him to be so hard on the defensive (or even know what a defensive is in the first place). 

Still, she doesn’t appreciate the same chastising tactic he’s used on her countless times, especially because given his serious temper, she knows he means it for real now. "Oh I’m sorry Harry, I didn’t know what sympathy actually sounds like coming from your mouth," she quips back in sarcasm. 

The response makes him livid, "you tell me I’m a jerk every chance you got, but you sure know how to be a bitch, y/n" he spats before finishing wiping the counter. As his hand reaches the end of the surface, he finds his half-empty glass of tequila, most of the ice completely melted through the amber liquor by now. He takes one long sip in a vain attempt to calm his nerves but the alcohol merely tingles the back of his palate and warms its way down his stomach. His mind is still burden with frustrations he doesn’t know how to alleviate; the end of term, the exhibition, his career’s future, and y/n’s stubborn nature all wreaking havoc in his tired brain.

"Shut the fuck up, Harry. I didn’t ask for your attention," y/n retorts, trying not to expose how bruised her heart is. While he’d mocked her plenty during the past two years, he’d never resorted to calling her names, unlike her; so the insult does more damage than she’s willing to admit, even coming from Harry. And to think she’d thought of him as a half decent being not three days ago…

"Right, I forgot only anonymous bastards are worthy enough of your attention," he replies before checking the shelves behind the bar to make sure they’re stocked enough for the next shift. "And even when they turn out to be cowards, you still choose them over the people that are actually around you. You need to open your eyes and wake up, it’s pathetic."

Y/n has almost finished cleaning her area but at this point, she’s ready to call it quits and run as fast as she can, away from him. "Go fuck yourself, you don’t know anything you’re talking about," she manages to croak past her swelling throat and quivering lips. The man in front of her is breaking her heart even though he’s never had it in his calloused hands, and y/n doesn’t know why. 

"Fuck this, ’m done," he quite literally throws in the towel, leaving it in a bowl on the counter before making his way back to his drink. In a swift movement, he grabs the bottle of tequila to pour himself a new one. "You keep blindly mopin’ about your precious painter, I don’t care, you’re probably right anyway," he says before chugging the bitter spirit in one go and slamming the bottle of tequila down on the counter in a loud bang that has y/n jump in fear. "I don’t anything about bloody anything," is all Harry says as he locks eyes with hers, before making his out of the bar, not bothering to put the bottle back to its rightful place.

Y/n is still trembling from the exchange, and it takes her a hot minute before she can finish what she was doing. As she resumes wiping the floor with shaky hands, she tries to even her breath out. Why had he been so hurtful? What could have possibly impelled him to utter such malicious words? The questions are still reeling in her mind as she twists water out of the mop  for the last time. Once the floor is spotless and all the tables are no longer sticky with spilled alcohol, chairs stacked up onto them upside-down, she makes her way back behind the bar, checking that Harry didn’t leave any of his duties unattended before his theatrical exit. She spots the bottle of tequila sitting lonely on the counter but just as she goes to reach for it, she freezes. 

It’s a cold shower pouring over her body all at once then, dots finally connected as her eyes read over the label of the fat bottle she’s seen him take out of the stack countless times before. Everything that happened for the last few months falls into place and suddenly there is no mystery left to be solved. ‘You’re probably right, I don’t know anything about bloody anything’ Harry’s final words keep playing on a maddening loop in her head. 

Y/n takes in the small bee design printed under what is unmistakably the last piece of the puzzle she’s been craving to complete: one word that has her stomach churning in a myriad of emotions she can’t possibly untangle. Anger, relief, surprise, fear, curiosity, warmth and more, are all rushing through her in one colossal wave, because printed on that bottle in black capital letters is the brand of Harry’s favorite drink: Patrón.

                                                       ***

The next day, y/n navigates through her classes purely on autopilot mode. She doesn’t quite remember picking the floral blouse nor the light-shade pair of jeans she’s wearing, and barely recalls the brief conversation she had with an old lady during her bus commute to campus. One thing she sure as hell hasn’t paid one iota of attention to, is the behavioral psychology class she’s just got out of. Two hours she spent pacing up and down every twist and turn of her mind only to come out more lost than she’d started. Add to that the fact she’s running on 4 hours of sleep, she’s quite simply a recipe for disaster. Fortunately for y/n, she isn’t due at work tonight, having called sick this morning, because sleep-deprivation aside, she still has no idea how she’s supposed to face Harry.

The revelation of the night prior is still something she has trouble wrapping her mind around, as it goes against every constructed opinion she’s made about her life. Harry is Patrón, she’s pretty sure. Harry, the allegedly conceited asshole she’s been bickering with since their first minute spent together, is the mind-blowing painter that had taken residence in y/n’s heart since the first time she set eyes on his art. The two characters have yet to fully merge into one in her mind, despite the fact it makes perfect sense to her. 

The Brighton painting, the one inspiring her necklace, it was all true. And with that revelation comes two intimidating truths y/n is kind of scared to delve into: one, all this time she’s been right to think she is the muse behind this all scheme; two, if Harry is the mystery painter, that makes her Harry’s muse more specifically. And that’s the part of the equation she struggles the most with, because up until last night she was pretty positive that the twat despised her (the night in itself being prime evidence of that) but now she doesn’t know what to think.

It’s like there are two versions of Harry battling in her brain, splitting her heart in halves; the one that made her miserable at work for years and made her cry last night, and the one she’d gotten a glimpse of at the night of the exhibition. The one that hid a fully blossomed bouquet of emotions behind teasing banter to protect a diamond-rough talent that had the power to touch just about anyone’s sensibility. The one that had her wrapped around his finger in awe with that beautiful mind of his. The question is, can she or will she see this Harry the next time she’s facing him or will all their bad-blood history come crashing down on her instead? Y/n doesn’t think she’s ever fit more the definition of having mixed feelings about something.

On her way home, she makes sure she doesn’t fall asleep against the bus window, despite yawning every thirty-seconds. It feels like the trip is taking forever, she almost lets out a cry of relief when the automated voice finally announces her upcoming stop. Once she’s thanked the driver and stepped out of the bus, she’s met with a gust of brisk air, instantly blowing her hair all over her face. She draws the lapels of her coat tighter around her shivering body and starts making her way towards her apartment building. 

It doesn’t take her long to complete the walking distance to her place and tread her way up the stairs, but the sight greeting her in the hallway of her floor almost sends her down on her ass. Because right across from her door, is Harry hanging yet another one of his chefs-d’oeuvre. He’s dressed casually in his usual jeans and t-shirt ensemble, with a thick grey hoodie covering his broad upper-half in a feeble attempt to combat to cold weather raging outside. As he reaches in the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a sharpie - no doubt to apply his trademark signature - the movements of her feet on the laminated floor catch his attention. Spinning around in a jolt of surprise, he realizes too late that he’s been caught red-handed. There was no going back this time, but he doesn’t necessarily see it as a bad thing.

There is a short moment where they are both just standing in front of each other a few feet apart, as their eyes bounce back in silent conversation, before y/n softly breaths out, "so it is you." The weight of her words has him swallow in nervousness, "of course it’s me," he replies in a gentle tone. A smile pulls at his lips when he realizes she’s not running for the hills or bursting out in a furious rant. 

"I just…how? why? I mean, you gotta help me understand Harry, cause I’m pretty fucking lost over here," she blurts out with wide doe-eyes begging him for answers. Her obvious jitters earn her a soft chuckle., and for a hot minute all he can bring himself to do is study her snuggled figure and the way she keeps fiddling with her keys. It’s so endearing to him, if they were at his place, he would have offered to make some tea. The thought has him hesitantly looking at the door across from them, "can we maybe talk inside?" he inquires, beckoning his head towards her place. "I know I haven’t given you much reasons to let me in, but I promise I’ll explain everythin’," he feels the need to convince her, " after that, you can kick me out if you still want."

The last bit has her smile timidly, "yeah, let’s go inside. I wanna hear what you have to say," y/n admits as she steps to the door and unlocks it. She’s intrigued by how gentle and well-mannered the man following her to the living room seems to be, light years away from the rowdy lad she’s come to know. 

For a second, y/n is worries about the state she’s left the apartment before she rushed to classes this morning, but her apprehensions quickly go away once she takes in the sight of her rather tidied living space. A velvety throw blanket is covering the couch in a makeshift comforter from the way she spent the night on the couch, and apart from a few class notes scattered across the coffee table, everything seems to be where it’s supposed to be. 

They both discard their top layers on the armchair adjacent to the couch, Harry slipping his hoodie off above his head in one swift gesture, while y/n simply lets the sleeves of her coat slide down her arms. He brushes his hair back into submission with one swoop of his hand, before sitting down on the couch and directing his attention back at her. She decides to leave some distance between them, taking the other end of the sofa and the move desperately makes him wonder what thoughts are running through her head. The only way to uncover them  however, is if he starts talking first; and so he does.

"So uhm," he starts clumsily, clearing his throat, "remember the first day we met, you walked in on me telling some stoner guy off," he watches closely as y/n nods. "It was our first ever conversation and we fought through the whole thing. I was pretty pissed when it happened, not gonna lie, but once I got home and slept it off, I thought it was really cool how you’d stand up for that random guy." The admission has her eyebrows raising but he keeps going, "and okay maybe, just maybe, I found it a lil hot, the way you tried to put me back in my place." 

He stops to make sure he hasn’t offended her, "tried to?" she challenges instead, Harry laughing at her objection. 

"Right, maybe you did. My poin’ is, no-one really calls me out on my bullshit, so it was kinda refreshing that you did. But then the next day, you were still mad at me, an’ we bickered that time too. It felt like you’d already made up your mind about me. So in a way, all I had left was doin’ this thing where I push your buttons and rile you up. Know it doesn’t make sense, but it was the only way you’d interact with me so I kept doin’ it, because being jerk-Harry was better than having nothin’." 

He pauses for a minute and waits as y/n swallows all the information. All this time he’s been teasing her just to have some sort of connection, no matter how perverse, while she thought he just hated her guts. When she shares this thought with him, he shakes his head with a smile, "never hated you. If I ‘ad, I wouldn’t have bothered talking t’you."

Suddenly, her chest feels lighter, as though all this months of anguish had evaporated from her mind, now that she knew their rocky relationship was the result of miscommunication, "sound logic, Styles," she replies in good humor. Then she remembers the El Patrón’s fiasco so she urges him to go on.

"My final. Right. Well as you know, we were given the assignment at the beginning of the semester, and I came up with the idea of creating this alter ego that would plant his work around campus. I thought by taking people’s by surprise I was guaranteed strong genuine reactions. People are always more opened when they don’t expect it. Like if I had just brought my paintings on the night of the exhibition, the same people wouldn’t have reacted that way, probably because they’d know they’d be observed so they would have adjusted their behavior accordingly." They both know he’s getting slightly off trail, but watching y/n so enthralled with his words makes it hard for him to stop. Fact is, for month she’s dreamed of meeting and picking at the brain of this mysterious painter, and now that he’s sitting on her couch, walking her through his thought process, she finally feels like she is. 

"Anyway," he resumes the storytelling, "I started with that painting in the library and it worked so perfectly, I knew if I followed the plan I would have somethin’ really good. But then you just had to go on an’ rave about the paintings without knowing they were mine, and it was killin’ me inside. Because I knew if there was a real chance I could change your mind about me, I’d do anythin’. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t jeopardize my final… so I tried to tell you through the art. I started painting stuff that made me think of you and placed the pieces in locations I knew you’d pass through. It was the only way I could tell you."

Harry’s confession had Y/n’s heart beating so hard in her chest, she can almost feel it thumping through her ears. Her next question is on the edge of her lips, but she takes her time tracing each of Harry’s graceful features until his eyes catch hers, "tell me what, Harry?" she asks barely above a whisper. 

His response comes in three bashful steps: first his lips curve into a shy grin that has him look down with rosy cheeks; then his hand inches its way along the soft fabric of the couch to gently hold her fingers, thumb grazing over her knuckles; and as he looks up from their joined hands to connect their gaze once more, he finally spells it, loud and clear, "tell you that I like you, y/n." 

The sentiment sends her own emotions reeling in a tornado of passion. This is it, this is what she’s been half-knowingly wishing for, and now that she knows the truth in full, she’s ready to embrace it. Her eyes twinkle in bliss, a growing smile illuminating her face as she squeezes his hand in a silent invitation to slide closer to her. Harry is much happy to oblige, and once he’s sitting directly next to her, knees grazing her own, he cups her face with one of his bear-paw hands. A few strands of hair are caught in the cuddling gesture, but none of them care. Harry just keeps smiling at her, waiting for her next move, and his beam grows two sizes wide when she mirrors his affection. "I like this side of you," she whispers fondly, as her thumb draws slow circles across the skin of his cheeks.

Harry closes his eyes at her words, "this is the real me, I promise," he reassures in an almost pleading tone, vulnerability seeping through. And y/n feels like she’s lying down on cloud nine really, because dropping his fortress of pretentiousness is all she’s ever want from him. With a hushed ‘okay’, she finally brings her mouth to taste the rose-tinted flesh of his. It starts off chaste and slow, lips dovetailed in perfect symbioses like they are made to cohabit, but quickly the kiss heats up to a full on make out session. "Show me, then", y/n mutters out when they part for a breather.

Harry slowly nods his head, before helping her straddle his lap and y/n immediately brings both her hands to his neck once she settles her hips against his. The friction already had them deeply inhale, trying not to work themselves up too fast, but Harry doesn’t think he’ll have much self-control when it comes to y/n. Already he can feel his cock fattening up inside his brief, the tingling sensation making him roll his hips up into hers. Their lips are back in a sensual duel, tongues tentatively taking their turn to lick their way inside the other’s mouth. Every now and then, he teases her bottom lip with a graze of his teeth, and the move as her tugging the root of his hair at the back of his head every single time without a fail.

He loves discovering all the quirks and tells of her body, thinks he could spend hours on hand learning every single one of her curves and memorizing each of her special spots. The smell of her fragrance infiltrates his nostrils as he dips his head to her neck to plant open-month kisses along her skin. Head angled towards the ceiling to make room for his ministrations, y/n can’t do much but let her hands scout any expanse of skin accessible to her. She starts at his shoulder, squeezing the flesh to feel out the strong muscle laying underneath, before making her way down his tone arms, then to his hands currently holding onto to her waist. She gives them an affectionate pinch at the same time she presses down onto him with a deep moan, and Harry retaliates with a buck of his own. 

As he starts kissing down the exposed skin of her cleavage, y/n finally drops her head to place a tender kiss to his hairline. One of her hand is back at his neck, holding him firmly to her chest as he licks at the valley of her breasts down her sternum. The other worms its way underneath his shirt from the neckline, nails grazing down his back in soft enough pressure not to leave any marks.

Harry’s descent is obstructed by the soft material of her blouse, so he takes the garment off of her in one swoop, and places his hands back on her newly exposed body, rubbing up and own the skin. As his mouth goes back to the supple flesh of her breasts, y/n increases the pace of her hips grinding on his cock. The sensations seem to be not enough and too much at the same time for her; the heavy material still covering their most sensitive parts in the way of her pleasure, while Harry’s work has her going into overdrive under his velveteen mouth and calloused fingers. She starts kissing her way up from his shoulder to the edge of his jaw, and Harry revels in the sound of her moans tickling his ear. 

Done with the excess of fabric between them two, y/n grips at the top of his shirt and pulls it upwards, leaving him shirtless. "Fuck, I didn’t know you have so many tattoos," she babbles against his lips, while her hands smooth over the ink. 

"Plenty you don’t know about me, love," Harry chirps as he bask in the praise and the feeling of her skin of his. 

He then circles one arm around her waist to bring them chest to chest, and the contact has y/n once again intensify the friction between their crotches. "Wanna find out," she murmurs against his neck while she grinds on his clothed member, "Harry, please take me to bed."

He jolts at the quick bite she delivers to his neck, the impish gesture her way of saying ‘now’ but before she can make her way out of his lap to bring him to her room, he presses her back down with both hands on her waist. "Nuh uh, y’not goin’ anywhere. Want you to come once, b’fore I take you to bed, pet," he says, smoothing his hands over her ass to guide her rocking motions. The term of endearment sounds so innocent yet dirty all at once, it sends a chill down her spine. Nobody had called her that before.

"Can’t," she shakes her head, "can’t feel you through the jeans."  

"Alright then, stand up," he calmly asserts and she doesn’t hesitate to comply, standing in between his spread legs, in her flimsy bra and jeans. "Take ‘em off then, ’s what you want no?" he sends her a tantalizing look and bites at his lips as he watches her peel the pants off her legs. He can’t help the light squeeze he gives himself through his own jeans, as y/n stands in front of him awaiting his next instructions. "Come sit on my thigh now, think should be enough to make this pretty pussy tingle in all the right places, no?" 

Y/n’s insides are already twisting in a knot as she settles back on his lap and lets the rough material of his jeans against the softness of her cotton panties spread a prickling sensation through her pelvis area. Quickly, she resumes undulating her hips, gripping back at Harry’s neck to pull him in a languid kiss, pleasure vibrating against their lips. It is not long before her pace picks up, and her eyes shut at the intensity of her bliss. "That’s it, pet. Already makin’ a mess of me. You’re doin’ so well," he coaxes her with his words. 

As promised, y/n feels the lips of her sensitivity start to throb at her impending release, the sensation making her clamp her thighs tighter around his meaty limb. As her knee now presses against his bulge, Harry cries his sudden pleasure out in her mouth, and that’s all it takes for her to let her orgasm consume her. She unravels on top of him, one of her hands shooting to cup at her pussy in an attempt to quell the overwhelming throb. Harry draws soothing caresses down her back as he look at the sticky mess she’s left in her panties, damp patch matching the one tainting the material of his jeans. "All ruined, just as they should be," he smirks at the sight before giving her a sweet kiss. 

Flushed skin and blown pupils, she slowly regains her breath, "take off your pants and take me to bed now?" she requests.

"You’re quite demanding for someone who’s just gotten off," he keeps taunting her. After all, winding her up has always been one of his favorite thing to do, and dare he say in the past two years, he’s gotten quite good at pushing her buttons. Now he’s got new ones to figure out and play with, the thoughts has him pulsing in his jeans. 

Y/n doesn’t relent in her advances, she’s never been one to bow at his mockery, "thought you like how bossy I could be. Something about the way I put you in your place, if my memory serves right." 

"Anytime, anywhere, you’re the boss of me, love. But this," he cups at her cunt, adding pressure on her clit, "this is mine to have. Understood?" 

Y/n’s about to combust from all the desire firing up every one of her nerve-endings. His words might be the strongest aphrodisiac she’s ever experienced, she can’t wait to see what more tricks in has up his sleeves. "Now get up and show me the way to your room, pet," he softly commands before leaving a peck on her cheek. 

They both get up from the couch, and y/n guides them both down the hallway to her room, her hand wrapped in his tightly. Once they’re standing by the bed, Harry is surprised to face a patient y/n, biting her lips and awaiting his next directive. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on in his life, "undress me, love" he murmurs against her skin after kissing her forehead. 

His jeans are quickly discarded but before his boxer briefs follow suit, y/n can’t help but tease him in reprisal, "looks like I’m not the only one who made a mess in their panties." 

He lets out a boisterous laugh while she smears open mouth kisses along his stretching jaw, "mmm, I’d rather make a mess somewhere else," his innuendo causing her to gasp while he works the strap of her bra.  Once she’s gotten rid of his last piece of clothing, his cock springs up, free of it’s confines, dollop of pre-come already pearling at his tip, and sticking to the skin of his stomach. 

With a gentle grip at her hair, he has y/n’s head tilted backward, to let his mouth make its way towards her already pebbled nipples. Since she can’t look down, y/n blindly reaches out to wrap her hand around Harry’s thick shaft and starts massaging him in languid strokes. "Your hand feels so fuckin’ good around me, pet, I wanna fuck you so badly," he hisses around her nipple, before kissing his way back up to her lips. 

He starts backing her towards the bed in small steps, but she brings a hand to his chest at the feeling of the edge of the mattress brushing against the back of her knee, "wait, wait, wanna taste you first," she insists and Harry doesn’t think he could ever say no to that face, no matter how much he wants to just sink home inside of her in this moment. 

"Fuck, you’re killin’ me, love," he pinches at her waist and lays his forehead against hers, "you want my cock in your pretty mouth, before I drive it home in your cunt, is that it?" She nods, eyes turning into two lustful fireballs. "Okay, love, but y’ can’t keep it on your tongue fo’ too long, cause I really need to fuck you, alright?"

Y/n hastens to lower herself when he bids her "right then, on your knees and open wide fo’ me," and her brows furrow in confusion as she watches him stray from her spot. Picking up a plush cushion from her bed, he places it on the ground for her to knee upon, "there love, want you to be comfortable," he runs his fingers through her hair, and her heart grows three sizes bigger at how tender he can be in amidst his filthy ways. 

Sensually, y/n brings her lips around the crown of his cock, her tongue teasing its way across the salty skin. Once she’s licked up all the previous mess, she starts working her way down his cock, hand stroking at the base. After bopping up and down a few time, she removes her month from his swelling cock, and lets a string of spit fall down onto its head and make its way to his balls. "S’right, pet. Get me wet," Harry rasps in appreciation. Now that she’s got him properly slicked, she goes back to pumping his hardening cock and takes him into her warm inviting mouth, determined to have him all the way inside. She feels her throat expands to accommodate his thickness, and the pressure makes Harry tighten his hold in her hair, "fuck, that’s it, love. Take me good." 

Muscles already tensing up in preparation for his climax, when y/n’s hand finds his full and swollen balls to roll them together like dice, he is quick to calm her zeal, "Christ pet, you gotta stop before I can’t help myself," but his tone hardens when she defies his demand, "come on now, s’enough." 

Once she pulls off, the sight of her flushed face and puffy lips induces an animalistic groan to come out from his chest, as he thumbs through the wetness coating her chin. Taking the hand resting on his hip to guide her up, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, the taste of his arousal blending in their mouths. 

His hands come down to knead at the flash of her ass, before he scoops her up and on the bed with a quick flex of his biceps. "Harry, please," she whines in impatience, hands gripping at his sides to pull him down against her. His rock hard cock slides against her clothed pussy, pins and needles cruising along their skin and only fueling their eagerness. 

"Need me in your belly, pet?" Harry keeps working her up, as he slides her soiled panties down her legs, "need me to fuck you so good, you forget I was ever a jerk?" 

She’s putty in his hold, legs wrapping around his waist to feel the pressure of his member on her bare lips , "yes, yes, I wan’ it," she pleads.

Harry would love to tease her further, have her writhing and proper begging underneath him, but at this point it would be self-torture to even consider. Instead he pumps at his shaft to give himself some relief, their sex so close his knuckles graze at her clit every time his fist comes at the top. "You ready?" Harry utters softly while spreading and skimming her cleft with the head of his cock. It has y/n gripping at his hair, a series of delirious ‘yes’ tumbling form her mouth, so he doesn’t wait a second more to push his tip past her threshold and begins his descent in her warmth. "Fuck, t’feels so good. So wet, and tight, and warm," he thinks out loud once he’s stuffer her full, balls pressing against her ass.

Y/n whimpers against his lips, urging him to start moving to quell the building pressure coiling in her belly. A slow roll of his hips finally gives her reprieve causing her to moan in gratitude. She’s already so close, it baffles her how this man could have her coming apart at the seams without doing much. His thrusts starts gaining zeal then, betraying his own yearning to take the final leap. "So tight, love. Can feel you squeezin’ me, are you close already? Is my girl gonna cum fo’ me again?" he grunts in her ear while he pounds into her dripping cunt. Y/n doesn’t offer a response, too caught up in a daze of bliss, but her clenching muscles is all the answer he needs to start nudging his thumb at her clit. A several flicks across the sensitive bud later, her orgasm is pulsing through every bone and fiber of her body, walls hugging Harry’s cock so tight, it has to pause his hammering. 

Waiting for her to catch her breath, he peppers delicate kisses along her cheek, "was that good, love? Think you can give me another, uhm?" he asks when she’s regained some of her senses. The pressure at his groin is growing more and more the longer his cock remains unmoving entombed within her vice, and the luscious agony must be written all over his face, "yes, Harry, wanna be good for you" y/n cups his jaw tenderly. 

He nods at her approval, "good girl," delivers a sweet earnest kiss to her pouty lips as he pulls out and spins her around to lay on her stomach. His hand brushes the hair off her skin so he can sew a string of kisses at her shoulder blades and neck. Painfully red, his cock is propped between her buttcheeks, "can I take you like that?" he punctuates his inquiry by rolling his hips backward, tip lingering at her soaked entrance. Y/n clutches the sheets firmly, as she murmurs a faint ‘please’, back arching at the thrills consuming her mind. 

Harry plunges in her wet core in one smooth swing, hand digging at her hip to keep her steady as the other one interlaces with hers to lay on the mattress above her head. Unforgiving lunges have y/n cinch around him, face buried in the sheets and muffling salacious wails of pleasure, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to steer from his end for much longer. He slows his cadence to steady and firm strokes, slipping a hand around her waist to polish her swell. 

A million tremors spark off the onset of Y/n’s climax as she shudders in a firework of ecstasy. Harry  doesn’t relent until he’s worked her through completion and can no longer stop the coil in his loins from snapping. His release fills her in several spurts of wet warmth before he flops down next to her, positively fucked out.

They both lay unmoving in comfortable bliss for a few minutes, before y/n plops her head on his chest and an arm around his torso, her leg sneaking in between his. "Well, here goes two years of sexual tension," Harry says jokingly, fingers drawing abstracts design on the skin of her back. It might just be his favorite canvas to paint on from now, he muses before chastising himself at the onslaught of filthy thoughts tagging along. A playful slap on his abdomen takes his mind out of the gutter, "don’t ruin the moment," y/n says in fake admonition before placing a tender kiss on the spot she just abused. 

"M’sorry, love. M’just really chuffed to be in your bed finally," the last word reminding her that while she’s struggled to come to term with her feelings for him, ransacking her mind for a possible change of heart, he’d only seen her in but one light. The revelation still has her floored and giddy, "can I ask you something?" she asks as there was still one question pacing back and forth the pathways of her mind. Harry hums in acquiescence, "anythin’ love, by brain is yours."  

She feels his hand cradling her skull followed by a small peck to her forehead, and she smiles at the gesture, "why did you stay away that night at the exhibition when you got the prize? Why not coming forward?" It’s been bugging her brain since it happened. Although she didn’t have much insight on anything at the time, most of the pieces of the puzzle fell in place after the big reveal; but this, she still can’t make sense of.

Harry lets out a long breath, organizing his thoughts, "two reasons," he starts off tiredly. "One, I kinda like having this secret business going on, and like, as long as nobody knows, I am in control of how and when it happens, you know? And the moment I let go of that, I can’t go back." He searches her face for any hint of confusion but she’s just patiently listening. "Two, when we bumped into each other at the gala, I got convinced you’d never see me differently regardless of how good a painter I was; and that had become a big part of who El Patrón was." 

It’s the first time she hears his alter ego’s name from his mouth and with how flowingly natural it sounded coming out of his lips, y/n suspects that it’d been a conscious decision on his part. She recalls their interaction that night, the way they fell in their usual ways of ping-ponging vindictive words until one of them has enough and leaves the premises (usually y/n). A lump starts forming in her throat at the recollection of all the other fights they’ve had and how they’d all been pointless wastes of time and energy, now that she knows she is meant to be in his arms. She wishes things could have been different but the warmth of his body around her overweighs her regrets. They’re here now, looking bright toward the future, and it’s all that matters.

"I’ll keep your secret if you want, be the Lilly to your Hannah Montana," she tells him lightly before they both laugh at the silly reference. 

Happiness and glee has Harry tightening his hold around her shoulder, "nah, I don’t wanna play double-agents anymore. I wanna be the guy who gets the girl." He dips his head to catch her lips between his own, reveling in their newfound intimacy. Turning her face against his chest, Y/n impresses her bashful smile on his swallow-tattooed skin, before she lays a trail of pecks tickling the area underneath his armpits, "well, you got me now."

➪ Masterlist

[atlafan]

Office Neighbors - Part Twelve

a/n: a lot going on, but a happy time all around, enjoy! (reblogs and feedback are super helpful!) not proofread, sorry!

warnings: angst, fluff, smut...the word “homo” is used negatively. If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read, or skip over that scene, you’ll be able to tell it’s coming. 

words: 16K

masterpost

Harry made love to you, quickly, before Andy got home. You both were just getting yourselves cleaned up when you heard the front door open and close.

“Hello?! I thought you guys were going to the pub.” Andy says and you both hustle out of the bedroom. “Did you say yes?”

“I said yes!”

Andy beams at the two of you and rushes over to give you both a hug.

“Congratulations!”

“Thanks, buddy, thought we all could go out and celebrate together.” Harry says. “Wanna go wash up?”

“Yeah!”

The three of you all go to the Thai place for dinner, and then head home to enjoy the ice cream cake. You were beyond excited, and you promised yourself you’d call everyone tomorrow to give them the good news.

“When are you gonna tell Mum?” Andy asks Harry with a mouth full of cake.

“Um, m’not sure yet. I’d like to tell my own mum first.” Harry chuckles. “I’ll have to FaceTime her when I first get up tomorrow.”

“I’m sure we’ll tell your mom soon, Andy.” You smile at him.

“What kind of wedding do you wanan have?”

“Small.” You and Harry say at the same time.

“Just close friends and immediate family.” Harry says.

“I thought girls liked big weddings, though?”

“Not all girls.” You laugh. “I think it’s more special when it’s intimate. When you have giant weddings you care more about making everyone coming happy when the days is supposed to be about you and your partner.”

“What did Phil and Julian do?” Andy asks.

“Oh, they’re not married. They’re in a civil union. They were rings, but they’re not married.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “It just wasn’t something they wanted to do. Not everyone needs to get married. I think it depends on your values and stuff. Your dad and I both really like the idea of marriage, so we’re getting married.” You smile.

Andy nods and continues on with his cake. Later on, after Andy goes to bed, you and Harry find yourselves having a little make out session in bed. You were straddling him, and he had his arms wrapped around you.

“Can I ask you something?” You breathe.

“Yeah.”

“I love the ring, I really do, but…” You bite your bottom lip.

“But what?”

“I just wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

“That’s what she said.” He bursts out laughing and you roll your eyes with a sigh. “Sorry, I had to.” He strokes your cheek. “I figured that since we won’t be spending a lot on a big weeding that I could go a little extra on the ring.” He pecks your now swollen lips. “I thought you deserved a nice, big rock to go along with my nice, big co-“

“If you finish that sentence I swear to god I will pack up and leave.” Harry laughs and grins at you. “You’re in a goofy mood tonight.” You run a hand through his hair.

“I’m giddy, babe.” He kisses you again. “I’ve never had a fiancé before.”

“Hmm, me neither.” You smirk.

“Look at us, having a real first together.” He boops your nose and you can’t help but giggle. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

You lean back in and lightly bite down on his bottom lip. You suck on it before licking into his mouth. He squeezes your hips before sliding his hands to your ass. One of his hands traces around your stomach and inside your leggings. He tugs on the band of your panties and slips his hand inside there as well. You grunt against his lips, but let him continue. His fingers slide between your folds, and you tug at his hair.

“Sure you’re not too tired for this? You’ve had a long day…” He says as he looks up at you, still feeling around.

“Yes.” You groan. “Then when we’re done I’ll be about ready to pass out.”

“Okay.” He cranes his neck to kiss you, and he slides two fingers inside you.

You gasp into his mouth from the feeling. He drags his fingers in and out of you slowly and rub his thumb over your clit. You rock your hips back and forth at the same pace as his fingers. You grip at his shoulders as it becomes more intense.

“Put one of your hands back in my hair, babe.” He grunts. You were soaking his fingers and he was trying to not lose it in his pants.

You do as he says and get a good grip on his locks and he moans softly. You press your lips back to his, not wanting to be too loud, and continue to ride his fingers. He curls them up and pets them against your front wall and you gasp again. You continue to moan into each other’s mouths as you get closer to your breaking point. The hand you have on his shoulder slides down his torso, and you tug on his jeans.

“No, it’s okay.” He tells you. “This is just about you, Y/N.”

“But it’s gonna hurt if I don’t.” You whimper.

“It’s fine, baby, just wanna get you off.”

He bites your bottom lip and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You come around his fingers and ride out the shocks. He slowly removes his hand from you and he sucks his fingers into his mouth as you catch your breath.

“Harry, are you sure you don’t want me to-“

“No, sweetheart.” He pecks your lips. “You were gone for so long, just missed you.”

You kiss him again and get off of him to go clean yourself up. Truth be told, even if Harry had let you rub and tug at him, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to come. He was fine earlier, but the conversation during cake was distracting him. How was he going to tell Paige has engaged, and more importantly, how was he going to tell her she wasn’t invited?

//

Harry had sworn Andy to secrecy. He explained he wanted Paige to find out from him. Anne and Gemma were overjoyed with the news, as were your family and friends. You sent them all pictures. You even had Andy take a few pictures of you and Harry together in the backyard as a makeshift engagement shoot, it was fun. Andy blew bubbles to add some aesthetically pleasing effects.

“I swear if he doesn’t go to a college for art, it would be a damn shame.” You say as you look through the pictures. “Might post this one on my insta.” You show Harry a photo of you and him, he was holding you from behind and you both had big smiles on your face.

“Whatever you want, babe.” He kisses your cheek.

“So, there’s something I wanna run by you…” Andy was over at Caroline’s today so it was the perfect time to chat about wedding stuff. You were outside with him as he was gardening.

You enjoyed sitting in a chair while he would tend to the flowers. He always looked so cute with his bucket hat and tools.

“What’s up?” He says, turning to look at you. He takes his hat off and wipes some sweat from his forehead.

“How long do you wanna wait to actually get married? I mean…there’s not rush, but I don’t know if I wanna wait that long.” You look down at your lap and twiddle your thumbs. “I’m one-hundred percent sure about us…”

“So am I.” He scoots over to sit in front of you and he takes your hands in his. “Wouldn’t have proposed if I wasn’t. I just figured we’d be engaged for a while so we weren’t planning while you were working. This is a big year for you.”

“I know…but planning a wedding could be a good distraction for me. It’s like you’re always saying, I probably don’t have a great work-life balance. I could carve out time to work on both.”

“Alright, when are you thinking, then? This spring?”

“I was actually sort of thinking later this fall.” You mumble and look at him. His eyes widen and his mouth suddenly feels dry. “Like beginning of November? I was thinking maybe we could have a really small ceremony at the Boston Commons, and then Julian mentioned on the phone he could get us a deal at the hotel. It would be perfect for your family and whatever friends you’d want to have fly in. He said we could use one of the smaller function rooms for the reception. It’s still warm enough in Boston in November to be able to do something outside too.”

“Would…would just a couple of months be enough time for you to get an outfit together. I know you said you weren’t sure if you wanted to wear a dress, but fittings take time regardless.”

“Honestly, I was thinking of just taking a trip down to Macy’s with Nora and looking at some stuff there. I might wear a dress, but if I see a pantsuit I like I may go for that. I’ll wear white still, I think, I don’t really like the blushes or the peaches…” You try to read his face, which could be very difficult sometimes. “Are you having an internal freak out? Is this all too soon for you?”

“No, not at all…um, people just might think you’re, uh, pregnant since we’re rushing a little.” He swallows. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What? No, I would tell you if I was, babe.” He nods at that. “I just, I mean, it’s nice to be your fiancé, I just can’t wait to be your wife, that’s all.”

His features completely soften. He felt like a puddle of mush. He was so fucking in love with you, and that love, for the first time in his life, was actually being reciprocated. Truth be told, he’d take you right to the courthouse now if he could. He definitely didn’t want a long engagement, he just didn’t want to add to your stress. He stands up and cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

“But you’re gardening.”

“I’ll get back to it in a minute. Let’s go grab my planner and see what weekend could work best in November.”

“You’re serious?!” You nearly squeal as you stand up.

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I wanna be your husband as soon as possible too.”

You wrap your arms around Harry’s neck, and he hugs you back briefly before you go inside. He grabs his planner from up in the loft and you both go into the kitchen to sit at the table to look at it.

“Here.” He taps on a date. “November 6th…”

“Oh, and it’s a Saturday, that’d be perfect, baby.”

“You really wanna get this all together by then? It’s gonna be a lot.”

“Julian’s got my back with the hotel, and Phil said his restaurant could cater the buffet. We’ll save a ton of money. Also, Mark’s part-time job is a DJ, so music is covered too. We just need to get your family here, essentially.”

“What about a honeymoon? Do you wanna take a trip or something?”

“Andy usually goes to Paige’s for Thanksgiving, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So what if we just take that entire week off? We could go somewhere warm if you wanted…or, I mean…I’m sure I’ll be spending the holidays in London with you, we could go on a trip then?”

“No, that’s a family thing, and yeah, you’re definitely coming.” He ponders for a moment. “I think a trip during Thanksgiving week could be fun, actually. You won’t miss your family?”

“I mean, I will, but we’ll see them at the wedding.” You shrug. “I’d much rather take a little vacation with you.”

“Where would wanna go?”

“On a gigantic level if money was no object? I’ve always wanted to go to Greece, but I know that would be tough to swing, especially on such short notice…”

“Hmm.” He puckers his lips in thought. “Yeah, that’s something we should really plan out…maybe we could save that trip for another special time.” You nod at him. “Somewhere warm…oh! What about Florida? That’s a perfect time of year to go, and hurricane season will be over. We could go to Miami or something.”

“I’ve never been to Miami! That would be a lot of fun, there’s so much to do there.”

“Alright, it’s settled then.” He slaps his hand down on his planner playfully. “We’ll get married in on the 6th, and then we’ll go on our honeymoon during Thanksgiving. I’m a master at planning flights, so let me take care of that, yeah? If Phil could get us a menu or something I’d like to do a tasting…”

“Agreed.” You were smiling ear to ear. “Oh my god, we just set a date!” You squeal and throw your arms around him. “I love you.” You kiss him. “I love you so much.” You kiss him again.

“I love you too, baby.” He kisses you. “Now, let me go back to tending to my flowers, I’ll be pissed if my roses get fucked up.”

He gets up and you can’t help but giggle at him.

//

It was time for the annual back to school shopping trip. You stayed back since it was a tradition for Andy to go with just his parents. You didn’t mind. Andy not only needed new school supplies, but he needed some new clothes as well. He had grown another few inches over the summer. His doctor thinks he’s going to be about six feet by the time he’s a sophomore in high school. Harry and Paige decide to meet up at Old Navy for the shopping spree.

“Okay, Mum and I are going to hang by the changing rooms. You can go around the store on your own, look for sales, and then you will try on the clothes for us.” Harry says firmly.

“Fine, but no coming into the room with me.” Andy mutters. “It’s embarrassing.” His voice cracks slightly and then he clears his throat.

“So you want me to tug on your jeans out in the open? Alright.” Paige shrugs.

Andy makes an exasperated noise and walks away, making Harry and Paige laugh. The two make their way to go sit at the chairs outside the changing rooms.

“I’m surprised you’re not looking around yourself.” Harry says to her.

“I have plenty of clothes.” She chuckles.

“Listen, uh, while he’s busy looking at clothes, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He takes out his phone and shows Paige his lock screen, which was now a picture of you two kissing, and you were cupping Harry’s cheek with your left hand to showcase the ring. Andy had given you about two seconds to stage the photo.

“Um…why are you showing me a picture of you two kissing?”

“Look closer, at her hand.” He sighs.

Paige squints and then gasps, putting a hand over her mouth.

“Oh! You…you proposed to her already? That’s great! Congratulations.” She moves to hug him, but he shakes his head no.

“We’re in public.” He mumbles. “Anyways, yeah, we’re engaged now.”

“That’s incredible, I’m really happy for you.” She gives him a sincere smile. “Andy knows?”

“Yeah.”

“When did you do it?”

“A week or so ago.”

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“No offense, but you weren’t exactly top of my list of people to tell immediately. I was waiting until I saw you for this. We’ve been busy figuring things out. What Andy doesn’t know is that we’ve set a date already. We plan to tell him later. We wanted to make sure everything could happen where we want it before we started telling people.”

“Holy shit, you already set a date?” She puffs out some air from her lips. “Well, that’s great. When is it? I’ll put it in my phone now.”

“You don’t need to do that.” He puts his hand over hers to stop her from taking her phone out. “We’re keeping it really small.”

“So?”

“So…immediate family and close friends only at the ceremony and then a few extra friends at the ceremony.” She gives him a confused look. “You…you’re not invited.”

Before she has a chance to react Andy comes over holding a pile of clothes.

“Do I need to try every little thing on? Or is one outfit okay?”

“One, um, one outfit’s fine.” Paige says. “Go on.”

“Mum, are you okay, you look pale?”

“The, uh, leather from the shoe section is wafting over here and it’s giving me a headache. I’m fine, baby, go try your things on.” They watch Andy go into the dressing room, and she turns to look at Harry. “Alright, run that by me again.”

“You heard me the first time.” He says quietly. “You may have wanted me at yours, but I don’t want you at mine. Do you know how embarrassing it was to be put at the old college buddy table?”

“I thought you’d feel more comfortable there! Where did you want me to put you?”

“How about with my son?!”

“Okay.” Andy says coming out in a tee shirt and jeans. “Tug away if you must. They fit really well, though.” Paige huffs and stands up to check out the clothes. She tugs on the waist of Andy’s jeans and nods. “Can we go to the shoe store after? I was thinking I could get some boots for fall.”

“What kind of boots?” Paige asks. “You have two sets of snow boots, and rain boots already.”

“Like…like the boots Dad wears.”

“I can order you some online, I get them from a shop in London.” Harry says. “I like this outfit on you, go ahead and change and then we can check out.”

“I don’t know why you thought now would be a good time to bring this up to me.” She says. “You’re really hurting my feelings, Har.” She says quietly as Andy goes to change.

“I knew I’d be seeing you.” He shrugs. “I…I can’t keep doing this with you.”

“Doing what?”

“Pretending like we’re best friends who hooked up once and accidentally got pregnant. We were in a relationship for two years, and then you decided to walk away. Fine. We see each other and do this co-parenting for Andy. I feel like I leaned on you for a long time because you were around, but I have someone else in my life now to fill the hole you created.” He runs a hand through his hair and blinks a couple of tears away. “You have no idea how hard it was to sit there and watch you walk down an aisle that didn’t lead towards me.”

“Harry, I-“

“Okay, all set.” Andy says. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s my allergies, let’s go checkout.”

“Can we get lunch before we go to Staples?” He asks, and Harry and Paige look at each other.

“I don’t have time for that, honey.” Paige says. “Um, are you starving? I could get you a pretzel for a snack?”

“Okay.” Andy shrugs.

Paige and Harry split the payment for the clothes. Andy carries his bags out of the store, and Paige pulls Harry to walk next to her, behind Andy.

“This conversation isn’t over.” She says quietly to him. “Clearly you’ve been keeping some things buried and we need to hash it out.”

“Fine, but I’m not changing my mind about the wedding.”

The rest of the afternoon Harry and Paige said about two words together. She hugs Andy goodbye before she gets into her own car. Andy climbs into the back seat of the car.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“When can I start sitting in the front seat?”

“Hm, I don’t know, they change the safety ages all the time. When you’re thirteen I think? I can check when we get home.”

“Okay.” Andy picks at his bottom lip, a habit he picked up from Harry. “Is everything okay between you and Mum?”

“Never better, why?”

“Things just seemed weird with you both today.” Harry sighs at that. He’s not sure how honest he should be with Andy about all this.

“I told her about my engagement, and she was really happy for Y/N and I…but then I told her we set a date.”

“You did?! When?!”

“A couple of days ago, please act surprised, Y/N and I wanted to tell you together.”

“Okay.”

“So, Mum wanted to know when the date was, and I told her she didn’t need to worry about it because…I wouldn’t be inviting her.”

“But she invited you to hers, how does that make sense?”

“Andy.” Harry sighs again. “I only went to hers because of you. I wanted to see you all dolled up and walk her down the aisle. I also knew she just needed a little extra support because of Gramp not physically being there.”

“I’m…really confused…I thought you were, like, friends.”

“I know, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Mum and I are friends, but sometimes she acts like we’re best friends, and it makes things difficult for me. I think she forgets that she…that she broke my heart, and that since it’s been so long it shouldn’t matter anymore, and I should just be over it, and I am, in a way, but I don’t like getting too comfortable with her.” Harry pulls into the garage and turns the car off. He turns to look at Andy. “I know you don’t know the full story, and you don’t really need to. Mum and I are okay, you don’t have anything to worry about, alright?” Andy nods at him. “Good, now, let’s go inside, Y/N will want to see all your new things.”

Andy acted as surprised and excited as he could when you and Harry told him about the date for the wedding. He was shocked that it was happening so soon, but happy for the both of you. He was excited to be a part of another wedding since his mother’s ended up being so much fun.

“Will I be allowed to bring friends?” Andy asks.

“You can bring one friend.” Harry says. “That’ll be fun, a little sleepover in a hotel.”

“Yeah! Wait, the Ariana Grande concert is in November…”

“No worries, Andy, it won’t conflict with anything.” Your assure him.

“Okay good.” He sighs with relief. “Caroline’s coming with me to that, so I guess I’ll invite Brandon to the wedding.”

“We’ll make sure to put you both in a suite with Grammy and Auntie Gem. You, Brandon, Ritchie, and Lizzie can all have your own party.”

“Cool.” Andy smiles. “I’m really happy for the both of you.” He gives you both a hug, and then goes into his room to put his things away.

“Well, he’s certainly handling things better than when Paige got engaged.”

“I think this is different with him. He had her to himself his whole life, and then all of a sudden he didn’t. I’d probably be resentful too, but he said he had a really great summer with Noah and Rachel, and that’s all that matters to me.” He looks back towards Andy’s room. “Can we go chat up in the loft?”

“Yeah.” You follow Harry upstairs.

“Just wanted some privacy, um, I told Paige we were engaged today.”

“Oh! How did she take it?”

“Good…at first.”

“What happened?”

“I told her we had set a date already, and she wanted to know what it was, and I told her it didn’t matter because she wasn’t invited.”

“And you thought a good time to have that conversation was while you were clothes shopping with your son?” You ask flatly.

“Everyone’s always telling me to rip the band aid, so I did.” He huffs. “We’re meeting tomorrow to talk more, she’s not happy with me right now, I sort of started to tell her off, but she just wasn’t understanding.”

“What else is there to talk about?”

“She seems to think we need to hash some things out, or whatever.”

“Well, there’s clearly some unresolved shit buried between the two of you. Where are you going to meet her?”

“For coffee in the morning…are you alright with that?”

“Yeah, I can hang out one on one with Andy for a bit. We can watch TV and eat pancakes.” You smile.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He takes your hands in his. “I hate that I even have to deal with this bullshit.”

“Harry…” You nuzzle your nose to his. “It’s okay.” He pecks your lips and sighs.

“Thank you for always being so cool about all this. I don’t know I’d do if you were a classic psycho.” He laughs.

“Oh, I’m plenty psycho, just not about stuff like this.” You smirk and kiss his cheek as he laughs more. “This isn’t something I have much control over, you know? It is what it is.”

//

Harry wasn’t really looking forward to coffee with Paige, but he gets up and goes like he said he would. She was there waiting for him already, sipping on a piping cup of tea. He sees that there’s a second cup on the table already.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hey.” She says. “I got yours…black coffee.”

“Thanks.” He sighs and sits down.

“Okay.” She sighs. “I don’t want this turning into something heated, I think we can both have a mature discussion, we’re adults.”

“Right.”

“What you said to me yesterday, I…I didn’t realize you were still harboring those kinds of feelings. It’s been so long, Harry, I thought you were over all of it.”

“I am.” He says as he sips his coffee. “But I can’t help it when memories come back and I’m reminded that I wasn’t good enough to be the one to put on a wedding for.”

“We would have just gotten divorced, and you know it.”

“Did you ever even love me?”

“Of course I did! I just thought it was puppy love, infatuation…lust.” She chews her inner cheek. “I didn’t think I’d be spending the rest of my life with you, I was twenty-one years old! I still wanted my life to be my own. We had an accident, a happy one, and I don’t regret a thing, I love Andy with every fiber of my being, and I’m happy you’re his father.” She looks away and then back at Harry. “We wanted different things, Har.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“You wanted to get married and have more kids, did you not?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t.” She says bluntly. “I certainly didn’t want to have more kids.” She scoffs.

“But you’re such a good mum!”

“It’s my choice! I never wanted to have kids!” Harry’s eyes widen at that.

“Then why did you?”

“Because…because when I looked at all of my options, I just couldn’t…I don’t know, I looked at it as fate or something, like I was meant to have Andy or something. It was a perfect storm, Har, the condom broke, and it never had before, and I gotten off the pill. I was supposed to be Andy’s mom, and that was plenty. You deserve to be with someone who wants the same things as you. Part of why I ended up with Noah is because I knew he didn’t want more kids either. I also like that he’s older, but that’s a whole mixed bag that I won’t get into.”

“Right, because I’ll always be the immature punk?”

“You’re a fucking year younger than me, get over yourself.” She rolls her eyes. “You really don’t want me at your wedding?”

“No.” He sips his coffee. “The last thing I want to think about that day is you. It was nice of you to invite me to yours, and because of Andy and Y/N I went. If I didn’t have her I honestly don’t think I would’ve gone. I’m sick of carrying around all of this baggage, Paige. I’ve known you for fifteen years, or at least close to it, and I feel lucky that we don’t fucking hate each other, but we need to distance ourselves more.”

“How do you want to do that?”

“No more family vacations.” She frowns at that. “You can use the cabin whenever you want, I don’t care about that, but Andy’s not a baby anymore, we don’t need to do every little thing together like we were doing. Unless it’s his birthday or a holiday, we don’t need to do something as all of us together. I feel like we lean on each other for things more often than we should because we were such good friends at one point, but you have a husband now…you don’t need me.” He swallows. “And I don’t need you.”

“I see.”

“Do you? I feel like you live in a fantasy world sometimes, and I enable it to not make waves. You never ask if something is awkward for me, or-“

“So if we have a party or something on the boat for Labor Day, you wouldn’t come to something like that?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’d have to ask my fiancé about how she would feel.”

“I just think it’s important to make memories with Andy with the two of us so he has that when he’s older.”

“And I agree with you. I’d like to continue doing our annual back to school shopping spree, and similar traditions. I think we’re really good co-parents, Paige, but that’s where it needs to end with us.” She blinks some tears away and then she chuckles.

“Feels like you’re breaking up with me. Must feel good.” She smirks.

“It does, in fact.” He smirks back at her. “You do understand where I’m coming from, though, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” She sighs. “I’m so sorry if I’ve been making things difficult for so long. I felt like because I left I needed to make sure you were okay, and that’s why I made sure to keep you so involved with everything. I wanted you to feel like family since yours is so far away.”

“And I appreciate that! Really, I do. I think for a while that worked for us, and maybe I was sort of relying on it because I was so focused on work, and I wasn’t really meeting people I wanted to date for long periods of time, but Y/N…she’s changed everything for me.” He takes a deep breath. “For so long I felt like I was never going to fall in love again, and that I somehow fucked up and missed my chance at having the love of my life, but I don’t believe that anymore. She’s the absolute love of my life, Paige.”

“I’ve never wanted anything more for you, Harry, please know that. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know it hurt like hell when I ended it. I knew things would work out for you eventually. I’ve loved seeing you so happy. You’ve got a pep to your step again.” She smiles. “Just like you used to.”

“So, we’re on the same page then…about us sticking to more boundaries?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “I think it’s for the best all around.” She sips her tea. “Will you at least send me pictures? I wanna see what Andy’s going to wear and all that. Oh!” She goes into her bag. “I don’t know if you want these, but I have some photos from the wedding. Ones with all of us, our friends, and a cute picture of you, Y/N, and Andy.” She takes out a baggie of pictures for Harry.

“Thank you, I do want these, actually. And I’ll make sure we send you pictures.” He smiles.

“Okay.” She smiles back. “Well, I’m glad we could just get it all out there and clear the air a bit.”

“I’m sorry I brought it all up while we were shopping with him, it wasn’t great timing.”

“It’s alright, I would have probably done the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

“While I have you…Andy asked me when he could start sitting in the front…”

“He did?!”

“Yeah, I told him I’d look it up. It’s thirteen, right?”

“I have no clue, those safety regulations change all the time. I’d say thirteen is good.”

“He’s gonna be so annoyed.” Harry chuckles.

“Just wait for him to bring it up again, and then tell him we said thirteen.” She crosses her arms. “And if he pulls some bullshit with you like he did with phone, you just send him to me and I’ll straighten his ass out.” She smirks.

“We’re excellent parents.”

//

With everything officially smoothed over with Paige, it was easy living for Harry. He was proud of himself for finally just laying it all out there. It made him much more chipper during syllabus week. It took your classes about two minutes into your lectures to realize the rock on your finger was an engagement ring, and many of your students squealed and congratulated you. Many that came by to see Harry congratulated him as well.

“Hey.” You say as you slip into his office, closing the door behind you and leaning against it. “Got a second?”

“Course, darling, what’s up?”

“Are we inviting our colleagues?” You whisper.

“To what?” You roll your eyes at him. “Ohhhh, our wedding.” He smirks.

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet, here we are, engaged.” He grins.

“Not for long.” You cross your arms.

“Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Would you like to invite them?”

“I mean…maybe to the reception? I really do want to keep the ceremony small.”

“I think we should invite them to the reception, yeah. They’ve been a part of our love story since the beginning, babe.”

“Especially Janette.” Harry nods at you. “Okay, so it seems like we’ll need to order some very specific invitations.” You chew your bottom lip.

“Y/N.” He hums. “This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

“It is!”

“You’re getting stressed.”

“I’m not!” He gives you an unconvinced look. “It’s the good kind of stress. The more we do, the more we get to check off, and then there’s no stress. I’m going shopping with Nora in a couple of weeks, I can’t wait.”

“Are you going to have a bach-“ There’s a knock on his door, and you open it.

“Oh…sorry to interrupt.” Andre blushes.

“You’re not!” You say. “We were just discussing, um, something not work related, I’ll just go.” You slip out.

“She can be a bit squirrelly sometimes.” Andre chuckles and Harry hums his response.

“What’s up?”

“Got an overload request from one of my students, and you’re his advisor so I need your signature.”

“Ah.” Harry waves him over and he signs the form. “They should really make these paperless so it’s les work.”

“I know, an email could easily suffice, thanks.”

Harry gets up and goes into your office, he closes the door and sits down in one of your chairs.

“Yes?” You chuckle.

“Has your hand been hurting at the end of the day?”

“No, why would it?”

“Well, it’s got so much extra weight on it now, I wanted to make sure.” He smirks, and you sigh heavily as you look at him. “Anyways, I was going to ask you if you plan to have a bachelorette party.”

“Oh, of course I do. Nora’s gonna plan the whole thing. We were thinking over Indigenous People’s Day weekend since most people will have that Monday off, do a long weekend type thing.”

“What do you think you’ll do?”

“Bar hop most likely.” You shrug. “Dance, drink, that sort of stuff. Are you going to have a bachelor party?”

“I don’t know who I’d have it with…” He twiddles his thumbs. “My two best mates live overseas, and I don’t want to ask them to fly twice, that would be insane.”

“So have them fly in a few days early and do something fun with them then. Our parties don’t need to be on the same day, you know? I’m sure we’ll be having lots of little parties between now and then.”

“True, Lucas sent us two different calendar invites.” He chuckles as he stands up. “Just promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“No strippers.” You burst out laughing at that. “Or exotic dancers.”

“What century are you living in?!” You wipe a tear away. “Harry, the only man I want giving me a lap dance is you, okay?” He nods as you bite your bottom lip.

“What?”

“Would you ever give me one? Do a little strip tease?”

“Maybe on our honeymoon.” He turns to walk towards your door, and then he looks at you over his shoulder. “And only if you’re a good girl.”

A chill goes up your spine as he leaves your office.

“What a fucking menace.” You say to yourself as you try to shake his words off.

//

Seventh grade was off to an interesting start. Harry annoyed Andy by taking first day of school pictures before he dropped him off. It was a new hallway and a new locker to get used to. Mostly everyone he had homeroom with the year prior was in his homeroom again. He noticed that some people had gotten taller, some voices had gotten deeper, some people’s skin had started to break out, and some of the girls looked…fuller. Andy hadn’t really noticed the changes amongst himself or his friends. Caroline was still as sweet as ever, but she did tell him in confidence that she started getting her period, so if sometimes she got snappy with him that may be why. Andy knew he had gotten a little taller, and he knew his voice was starting to crack, but he was thankful nothing else had really seemed to change.

He walks into his new homeroom, and sits down. Every year it was the same thing. The teacher would ask everyone their named, they’d give out locker information, and then the school handbook. Brandon comes in and sets next to Andy. This year Andy’s homeroom teacher was a science teacher, so it was all bench seating with two to a table.

“Hey.” Brandon yawns. “It’s crazy, every year I think I can get up early for school no problem, but here I am, running late.” He rolls his eyes.

“My dad makes me go to sleep and get up early at least a week before school starts. It’s annoying, but it helps.”

“It’ll only get worse, too.” Caroline says as she sits down with Tyler at the bench next to him. All of the tables were set up around the perimeter of the room. Andy was happy he’d be sitting next to his two best friends. “My sisters get up at 5:30 in the morning just to get ready for school.”

“Shit, why that early?” Brandon asks her.

“Shower, hair, makeup, and breakfast that my mom forces us to eat.”

“Luckily, we don’t have that problem.” Tyler says. “We can just roll out of bed.”

“Speak for yourself.” Andy scoffs. “I have to get up early to do my hair.” He runs a hand through it. Brandon smirks and ruffles Andy’s hair. “Quit it!” Andy giggles, and does the same to Brandon.

“You quit it.” Brandon giggles, and the two smile at each other.

After homeroom, it turns out Andy and Caroline have math together, and the teacher says they can sit where they like. They sit next to each other, and she smiles at him.

“What?”

“You know, you never told me what happened with you and Brandon after I left the wedding.”

“That’s because nothing happened.”

“So you didn’t dance with him?”

“No, we danced, but that was it…his dad called to tell him to be ready.”

“And nothing happened later on? I mean you both hang out all the time.”

“The timing just hasn’t been right.” Andy shrugs. “Playing basketball and skateboarding isn’t exactly romantic, Caroline…” He mutters.

“Sure it can! Remember when you were showing me? You had to put your hands on my hips and hold my hands.”

“That was so you wouldn’t fall!” He blushes. Andy remembers that day really well, and even though he asked Caroline first if he could touch her, he definitely enjoyed being able to show her a thing or two.

“Mhm, sure.” She smiles. “All I’m saying is, anything could be turned into a date.”

“Well…you know how my dad and Y/N are getting married in a couple of months?” She nods yes. “It’s gonna be in Boston, and I wanna invite him. They said I could have one friend come.”

“Oh, that’ll be great! I bet-“

“Alright, class, settle down. I’m hoping you all did your summer math work as we will be going over that after I take attendance. Welcome to pre-algebra.” The teacher says and everyone gets quiet. “Once we’re done with that, I’m going to give you all a pre-test to see what you remember.” The majority of the class groans. “I know, I know, a test on the first day, but it’s just for me to see how I can best help you.”

Andy takes his planner out and flips through a few months.

“What are you doing?” Caroline whispers.

“Counting down the days until art starts.” He side eyes her and she has to bite back a laugh.

After school, Brandon and Andy stand together as they wait for their rides. It was only a half day, but they were both exhausted.

“I’m really glad we have science and history together.” Brandon says to him.

“Me too. I have some classes with Caroline and Tyler too.”

“Same here. And there’s gym too for all of us at least.”

“I’m just glad we’ll still be able to call each other to do homework. I’d be really lost without you, B.”

Brandon smiles at Andy, and before Andy can say something else, he sees your car pull up. The boys say goodbye, and Andy climbs into the backseat.

“How was your first day?” You say to him.

“Okay.” He shrugs. “I think math is gonna be tough this year.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m pretty good at math, so don’t be afraid to ask me for help.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Is Dad teaching?”

“Yup, he’s in the middle of class. He’ll be able to get you tomorrow.” She grins. “I thought we could be a little adventurous and go to McDonald’s for lunch.”

“Dad doesn’t let me go there…”

“Well, you’re not with Dad, are you?”

“Can you even get anything there?”

“There’s a flurry and a large fry calling my name.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the best.”

//

Harry comes back from his class to see Andy sitting in his office. He was munching on some apple slices.

“Hey, buddy, how was school?”

“Good.”

“Did you have anything for lunch, or do you need some money?”

“No, Y/N took me to get something to eat quick.”

“Yeah?” Harry smiles. “What did you have?”

“Um…well…I don’t wanna get her in trouble…” He swallows his last apple slice as Harry furrows his brows at him.

“What do you mean?”

“She took me to McDonalds.”

“Andy.” Harry sighs. “Why would you ask her to take you there when you know I don’t want you eating that stuff?”

“She asked me! I told her you didn’t really like it, but she said it would be fine. I didn’t even get fries! I got a happy meal with apple slices.”

“That burger is gonna sit like a rock in your stomach.”

“I got chicken nuggets.” He mumbles.

“Whatever.” Harry huffs and sits down. “Your classes went alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you could tell Harry was a little tense. You brush your teeth and look at him through the mirror.

“Any particular reason why you’re staring?” He asks as he spits the mouthwash he was swishing into the sink. He turns around to look at you.

“I’m just trying to read you. You’ve been sort of quiet today. Are you alright?”

Harry crosses his arms and looks at you intensely. You hated it when he looked at you like this. His features were hard, and he just looked intimidating.

“Why did you take Andy to McDonalds after he told you I don’t like him eating there?”

“Are you serious?” You laugh. “I just wanted to have a little fun with him.”

“By undermining me? Didn’t we have a chat about this, like, a long time ago when I did it to you? And that was by accident, you did this on purpose.”

“You act like my intention was malicious. What’s the big deal? We eat out all the time?”

“Yeah, we get pizza from the place downtown that uses locally sourced ingredients, or we get Thai food. Not fucking-“

“He got chicken nuggets and apple slices, it’s not like he pigged out.”

“Because he knows better.”

“You know, you never exactly told me he couldn’t eat there.”

“Well, he told you, and you went anyways.”

You had a couple of options here. You could easily argue with him. You could tell him how stupid it was to be upset over something like this, but if you did that you wouldn’t be validating his feelings. So, you swallow your pride.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.” He scoffs.

“Harry.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want me to be upset anymore.”

“You’ve been keeping this bottled up all day.” You sigh.

“Because I didn’t want to talk about it in front of him.” He looks away.

“Say it, Harry.”

“Say what?” He looks at you again.

“Tell me he’s your kid and not mine, and that I had no right to just change the rules.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s okay, that’s what you’re thinking, right? It’s not like that’s false. He’s your kid, and I’m his buddy. Maybe that’s all I’ll ever be to him, but someday you and I are gonna have a baby, and I’d like to treat that eventual kid once in a while with some fast food.”

“I guess we can cross that bridge when we come to it.” He plucks at his bottom lip. “You’re more than just a buddy to him, you have to know that. That’s not what I was trying to say, I just wished you had asked me first.”

“You were in class! I just, ugh, I had a craving for fries and ice cream, I really am sorry.”

“A craving, huh?”

“Don’t even go there. You never crave food?”

“Sure, I crave things all the time, doesn’t mean I always indulge.”

“I won’t take your son there again, okay?”

“Stop it.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “He’s yours too. And maybe I should have told you I didn’t want me ingesting that crap.” You roll your eyes at that. “But I know he sees you as a mom.”

“I mean, one time he told me I’d make a good one, but-“

“He referred to you as ‘Mum’ once.”

“He did?! When?”

“When we went to Boston over April vacation, when I had to put him to bed…he said he was having fun with me and ‘Mum’…he was like half asleep, but still.”

“Maybe he just got me confused with Paige.”

“No, baby, he knew who he was talking about.” Harry hugs you, and cups your jaw. “He loves you and he knows you love him too, and I love knowing that you two are bonding. Take him to Sub Way next time, yeah?”

“Okay.” You smile and he kisses you. “I really am sorry, I didn’t think you’d be so upset.”

“It’s alright…we’re on the same page now, right?”

“Yeah.”

He nods and lets you go. You both get into bed and curl up with each other. You turn over to face him, and you nuzzle into his chest. He holds you close to him and strokes your back. He kisses your forehead and basically lulls you to sleep. Times like this you didn’t mind being babied at all.

//

“Look at that size of that thing!” Nora exclaims when she meets you at the mall in Manchester to go shopping. “Makes sense that he got you something so massive. Big dick, big ring.”

“Nora!” You squeal and nudge her. “Shh, come on, let’s go look at clothes.”

“Still thinking you might wanna do a suit?”

“Yeah, I feel like I’ll be the most comfortable in that. I feel like I’ll just look classy, you know?”

“You’ll look stunning.”

You both walk through Macy’s and look at all of the options. The pants were the easiest part. A high-waist pair of slacks would look gorgeous, it was finding the right top. You didn’t want to wear a body suit or a corset.

“Oh! What about this?” Nora says, waiving you over. “It’s lace, so it’ll add some texture.”

“It’s beautiful. I like the spaghetti straps. Let’s see if it works with the pants and blazer.”

“And the heels. You’re gonna be a show stopper.” You both giggle and go into the dressing room. You try everything on and step out. “It’s gorgeous, it’s so you in every way.”

“You think so?” You bite your bottom lip. “I think a bun and a veil will look great with it. I love it.”

“Harry really doesn’t care you won’t be in a dress?”

“Nah, I was actually thinking of changing into a short dress for the reception. Something simple.”

“Oh! I saw a cute short, white dress out there. Let me go grab it. It had a high neckline, but it was open in the back.”

“That sounds perfect!”

You buy everything, and have them put into nice dress bags. You and Nora decide to grab a bite to eat.

“So…can I ask you something?” Nora says to you.

“Of course.”

“Not that I’m not over the moon happy for you, but is there a reason you’re getting married so fast? I know you’ve known for a couple of years, and things are different at our age, but…you’re barely going to enjoy your engagement.”

“I’m enjoying it plenty, trust me. I just didn’t want to wait until after I got my doctorate, you know? I…I wanna start trying for a kid as soon as I get my degree, and I told him I didn’t care if we were married or not, but I think I do care. I wanna be married and have that extra security if I’m going to have a baby with someone. We love each other, why wait?”

“And he’s okay with all this?”

“Yeah! I think sometimes it’s tough for him to accept how much I wanna be with him because of his ex, but he’s coming around. He’s really excited. I mean, I am too. I’m finally going to meet his family in person, and his two best friends.”

“Maybe one of them will fall in love with me, and I’ll have my own British man to sweep me off my feet.”

“One of them’s Irish.”

“Mm, even better.”

You both laugh and continue eating before you part ways. Harry had taken Andy out for the day, so you were able to slip inside and hide your new things in the back of your closet.

//

“Dad, today was awesome!”

“Yeah, wasn’t too embarrassing going bowling with your old man?”

“No way, we haven’t gone in forever, it was fun. And I broke my high score on the pinball machine.” Andy was biting into a slice of pizza while Harry was sitting across from him smiling, resting his chin in his palm. “It’s kind of like when I used to just see you on the weekends.”

“Yeah, I really was your classic weekend dad, huh?” He chuckles.

“No, weekend dads let you eat candy until your teeth rot out and let you stay up really late. You still made me follow all of Mum’s rules.”

“Because I respect her, and she respects me.” Harry sits up straight. “Listen, there’s something I wanna ask you.”

“What’s up?” Andy wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks at Harry.

“Well…I was chatting with Uncle Niall and Uncle Louis the other day about the wedding. They’re itching to know who my best man is going to be.”

“That’s gotta be hard to choose between the two of them. You guys are like the three musketeers.”

“We are! But my choice is pretty easy because I don’t want it to be either of them. See, there’s this other man in my life I think would make a lot more sense to be my best man.”

“Really, who?” Harry grins at Andy and his eyes widen. “Me?!”

“Yes, you. No one else felt right.”

“So, will my suit be different that the others?”

“Of course.”

“Can I have my nails done the same as you?”

“You really want to?”

“Yeah…I wanna get into painting them more. I think it would be cool if we matched.”

“Definitely.”

“I’m really excited, Dad, thanks…this means a lot to me.”

“It means a lot to me that you wanna do it. You’re really becoming a nice young man, Andy.”

Andy gets up and hugs his dad. Today was a really good day. He can’t wait to tell you the good news when he gets in.

“Babe! We’re home!” Harry says as him and Andy get inside.

“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite guys.” You smile as you come down from the loft. You kiss Harry’s cheek and give Andy a hug.

“I take it the shopping went well?” Harry asks.

“Very well, so no snooping through my closet.” You say firmly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Y/N, guess what?” Andy says.

“What?”

“I’m gonna be Dad’s best man.” He beams at you.

“That’s amazing!” You hug the both of them again. “It’s all coming together.”

//

“Andy, if you move, I’m gonna mess it up.” You tell him as you paint his nails black. He asks you to leave his pinkies purple.

“Sorry.” He watches you. “You don’t think I’m gonna get made fun of, do you?”

“Lots of guys are painting their nails nowadays. Just look at your dad, no one makes fun of him.”

“Yeah, but he’s big and strong, and could knock someone’s lights out.”

You swallow at that. It was true. Harry was a boxer, and if he really wanted to, he could beat the shit out of someone.

“You know violence isn’t the answer.”

“I know…I’m just not as intimidating as he can be.”

“You have his eyes, you just need to learn how to stare someone down the way he does and you’re golden.” You wink at him and he chuckles. “Are you really nervous about someone making fun of you?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Wearing a bandana or clipping back my hair is one thing, I just don’t wanna come off…girly.”

“I take offense to that. I’m a girl, what’s wrong with looking like me?”

“I guess nothing.”

“I’ll paint mine just like yours, would you like that?”

“Yeah, thanks, Y/N.”

You and Andy had gotten into the habit of nail time. Harry would sometimes join in, which was fun, but it was something the two of you could do together. It was a Sunday evening ritual. Andy’s friends loved the different combinations he would go with. Andy blushed when Brandon held his hand to look over a design you had managed to get on his thumb one day.

Then one day during locker break, Andy was switching some books out that he wouldn’t need for the afternoon. There weren’t a lot of people around.

“Hey, Styles.” A boy, Greg, and some other boys come over to him.

“Oh, hey, Greg.” Greg slams Andy’s locker shit. “Um, I wasn’t finished in there…” He goes to turn his combination but Greg grabs his hand. “You better not have this when basketball season starts back up.”

“What do you care?” Andy yanks his hand away. “Don’t like it, don’t paint your nails.”

Greg looks at his friends and laughs before shoving Andy up against the lockers.

“What are you, a girl now? Is Andy short for Andrea?” Greg smirks.

“Obviously not, you idiot.” Andy huffs. “Let me go, Greg.”

“Make me.” He shoves Andy harder against the lockers. Andy tries to give him his most intimidating gaze, but it’s not doing much for him. “You know what else makes you a girl? You like boys, Andrea.”

“Don’t call me that! And who even told you that?”

“It’s so obvious you have a thing for Brandon. You two are always all over each other.”

“What do you care?!”

“It’s annoying to watch.”

“Hey! Let him go!” Brandon comes racing down the hall and yanks Greg away from Andy. “What is the matter with you?!” He shoves Greg.

“Oh, look, your boyfriend came to your rescue, how nice.”

Before he has a chance to say or do anything, Andy watches as Brandon’s fist connects with Greg’s jaw, causing Greg to fall to the ground.

“Boys! What is going on out here?!” One of the teachers says as she rushes to the scene. “Principal’s office, now!”

Andy and Brandon look at each other, and then make their way down the hall. They sit on a bench outside the principal’s office to wait their turn. Greg had to be brought to the nurse.

“Why did you do that?” Andy whispers.

“He was being an asshole, obviously. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine…he was being really…homophobic…” He shakes his head. “I didn’t think people were still like that.”

“Well, they are, and it’s scary.”

“Maybe I should stop painting my nails.” Andy looks down at his hands.

“No!” Brandon puts his hand over one of Andy’s. “I really like it on you. You rock it. You’re, like, so cool.”

The boys are both called in to give their side of the story, and then Greg is brought it. When they all come out, Andy’s eyes widen when he sees everyone’s parents in the lobby. You, Harry, Paige, and Noah were all trying to keep cool as you chatted with Mr. and Mrs. Stewart. Greg’s father was keeping to himself.

“Andy!” Harry yelps and rushes over to him. “Are you alright?” He puts his hands on Andy to check him over.

“I’m fine, can you stop?”

“Honey, what happened? We got a call that you were in a fight.” Paige says.

“Excuse me.” Principal Morrison comes out of his office. “If all the adults would like to come in.” He sighs. You and Noah start to walk forward. “Just biological parents please.”

“Principal Morrison, that’s my step-dad, and my almost step-mom, they can both go in.” Andy says.

“Andy, it’s fine, we’ll wait out here with you.” You tell him.

Harry nods at you and goes into the office with the other parents.

“Right, well, it seems that Greg picked a fight with Andy, and Brandon stepped in when he saw what was happening. Greg said some hurtful things to Andy.” Principal Morrison explains.

“Like what?” Harry asks.

“Apparently he started calling him Andrea, and was making fun of his nail polish.”

“Well, there you go then.” Mr. Foley, Greg’s father, says.

“Excuse me?” Paige says.

“What’s a boy wearing nail polish for?”

“Um…” Harry holds up his hands. “It’s pretty common, mate.”

“It’s not like Brandon to be violent.” Mrs. Stewart says.

“He seemed to be defending Andy.” Principal Morrison says.

“It’s not common, actually, it’s odd.” Mr. Foley says. “Boys shouldn’t be painting their nails. I see how your boys are at basketball, it’s inappropriate.”

“They’re best friends.” Mr. Stewart says. “They’re close, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“They seem a little too close if you ask me.” Mr. Foley scoffs.

“Well, none of that should be any of your concern.” Harry says. “What my concern is,” he steps forward, “is that you seem to be teaching your son it’s okay to bully other people for being a little outside the box, and it’s borderline homophobic.”

“Maybe don’t raise a homo then.” Mr. Foley says bluntly.

“Gentlemen, please.” Principal Morrison says.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Paige says, also stepping forward.

“I said, don’t raise a homo and my son won’t have a problem.”

“Right, that’s what I thought.” She smirks, and lunges at Mr. Foley. Harry hooks an arm around her waist to hold her back. “You piece of shit, you think you’re this big tough man, teaching such awful values to your kid? You’re a piece of shit, and your son is following suit!” She struggles in Harry’s arms. “How fucking dare you!”

“Paige, settle down.” Harry says and she takes a deep breath as he lets her go. “Clearly Greg instigated things. Andy wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone. He knows how to use his words if he has a problem with someone.”

“Didn’t learn that from his mum now did he?” Mr. Foley smirks.

“Fuck you.” Paige spits.

“What can we do, um, moving forward? Are the boys going to be suspended?” Mrs. Stewart asks.

“Greg will be given in house suspension for instigating, and putt his hands on Andy. Unfortunately, because Brandon did hot Greg, he will be suspended for the rest of the week, and when he returns we have to give him a week of in house suspension.”

“So, even though he was just defending his friend, he’s going to get punished more?” Mr. Stewart asks.

“That’s the policy.” Principal Morrison sighs.

“What about Andy? Who’s to say that little fuck won’t bother him again?” Harry says. “I won’t have my son being afraid to go to school.”

“Andy wasn’t fighting so he won’t have to face suspension. His teachers will be alerted, and an eye will be kept on him. We have a zero tolerance policy for this kind of thing.”

Harry and Paige look at Mr. Foley.

“Tell your son to stay away from ours.” Harry says.

“No problem there. Don’t need any of what Andy’s got going on rubbing off on Greg.” He scoffs. “Are we done here?” He says to Principal Morrison.

“Yes.”

All of the adults leave the room, and everyone waiting looks at them. Mr. Foley grabs Greg’s arm and pulls him out of the room entirely.

“Brandon.” Mr. Stewart sighs. “You’re being suspended for the rest of the week, and then you’re gonna have in house suspension.”

“What?!”

“I know it doesn’t seem fair.” Mrs. Stewart says. “We’re proud of you for standing up for Andy, but you really shouldn’t have hit that boy, okay?”

“I’m really sorry, Brandon.” Andy had tears in his eyes.

“Don’t be.” Brandon says to him. “I’d do it again.”

//

The car ride home was quiet. You and Harry had to cancel the rest of your classes for the day. Paige and Noah were coming back to the house. Everyone sits down at the table when they get inside your home.

“Andy, I’d like to hear the full story, if you feel comfortable.” Paige says, putting her hand over his.

“I was at my locker, minding my own business, when Greg came over and he started up with me. He slammed my locker door shut and shoved me up against it. I told him to stop and he wouldn’t. Then he asked me if I was a girl, and I called him an idiot, and then Brandon ran down the hall and pulled him off of me, and then….ugh, then he called Brandon my boyfriend and that’s when he hit him.” Everyone looks at Andy with sad eyes. “I’m not gonna stop painting my nails, I’m not changing anything. Greg can go fuck himself.” He huffs, and you crack up first laughing, and then everyone else has a chuckle.

“I’m so sorry that happened.” Harry says to him. “Kids your age can be so mean, and he seems to be getting a negative influence from his father.”

“I wanted to slug him.” Paige says. “What a prick.”

“I feel bad that Brandon’s being suspended.” Andy says.

“I know.” Harry sighs. “Something tells me Principal Morrison won’t be putting it on his permanent record, though.”

“Do you all mind if I go lay down? I’m a little tired.”

“Of course, honey.” Paige hugs him and kisses the top of his head.

They all watch as Andy stands up.

“Um…it was nice having all four of you there…thanks.”

“What exactly is going on between him and Brandon?” Paige asks quietly.

“Nothing.” You say. “He would have told me if anything serious happened between them. I think something’s bound to happen at some point. I think they’re both still figuring it out.”

“It’s good Andy has such a good friend in his corner.” Noah says. “Everyone needs someone like that.”

Paige and Noah eventually leave to go be home in time for Rachel. Andy was asleep when they said goodbye. Or he was pretending to be. He was texting Brandon under his covers. He wanted to make sure he was alright.

“Andy?” You coo as you go into his room. “Dad made tacos if you’re hungry for dinner, honey.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sighs and gets up. “Thanks, I’m just gonna wash up.”

You nod and go back out to the kitchen.

“Is he coming out?” Harry asks as he gets everything on the table.

“Yeah.”

Dinner is mostly quiet, but Andy seemed to be doing okay. You and Harry cozy up on the couch with separate books, and Andy comes out.

“Can I watch TV?”

“Sure.” Harry says, handing him the remote.

“Can I…sit between you two?”

“Of course!” You say and scoot away from Harry to make room.

Andy plops down between the two of you, and puts on some show on Cartoon Network. You and Harry keep mindlessly reading. You were half expecting Andy to lay in your lap, but about twenty minutes in you look over and see Harry watching the show with him, his arm around Andy, and Andy’s head nuzzled into his chest. It was so sweet you thought it was going to give you a cavity. Harry was eating it up too. Even though he knew this was a really tough day for Andy, he was happy to be having this moment with him. He knew as Andy got older they would just become fewer and farther between.

“Andy, if you don’t wanna go to school tomorrow, it’s okay to stay home.” Harry says to him.

“It’s okay, I’ll go. I’m not scared.” He yawns. “I’m gonna go read before bed, goodnight.”

“Night.” You say as he walks off. “I hope he’ll be alright.”

“He will be, he’s tough. Come on, we should go to bed too.”

You nod and follow him into your shared bedroom. You both go through your nightly routines and get into bed. He holds onto you a little tighter than he normally does. You knew he had have been worried about Andy, but he was trying to keep it cool for everyone else’s sake.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“How about I be big spoon tonight?”

“Alright.” He rolls over and you wrap yourself around him. He’d never admit it, but he needed this tonight.

//

Harry’s alarm goes off at five in the morning. You groan and roll onto your back to let him get up, only he turns it off and turns on his side to look at you. He reaches to stroke your cheek, and he takes your out stretches hand to his lips. He kisses on your palm and wrist.

“You’ll be miserable if you don’t do your yoga.” You mutter with your eyes closed.

“Don’t feel like it.” He mumbles as he continues to kiss on your hand.

You turn your head and open your eyes to look at him slightly. You move your fingers to his mouth and he sucks on your pinky. A small whimper leaves your lips and that’s when he knows he has you. He lets your pinky go with a pop and shifts under the blankets to get on top of you. You were naked, since that’s how you slept, and he only had boxers on. He mouths at your neck and licks up to your earlobe. He grinds his hard length against your center and he groans.

“Can feel how wet you are already.” He says into your ear. “I wanna fuck you.”

“You do?” You say innocently as he continues to grind himself against you. You move your hips up to meet his and he moans.

“Yes.” He kisses on your chest and sucks on one of your nipples. You push his hair back for him and you bite your bottom lip as you watch. “Can I?”

“Can you what?” You smirk.

“Fuck you. Please? I really want to.”

”Yes, Harry.”

He sighs with relief and rips the blankets away. He gets his boxers off and grabs a condom to roll on. He quickly gets back between your legs and you grind yourself against him.

“Like feeling me between your folds?”

“Yes.” He bites his bottom lip as he slowly pushes inside you. You moan out as he comes down to you, chest to chest. “Love it when you’re like this.” You pant. You move in sync with his thrusts and it has your eyes nearly crossing.

“Love it when you’re so good for me.” He moves to sit up on his knees, and pushes your thighs together. He grunts and his head rolls back. You take great pleasure in watching him lose himself. “You’re so fucking tight, Jesus.”

He lets your legs fall open and grips your sides as he continues to fuck in and out of you. You so a slight glute raise to give him a better angle, and you start rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, Harry.” You groan.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, oh god, shit.”

You both cry out and come at the same time. Your orgasm was so strong it just about brought you to tears. You cling to him as he falls on top of you. Your aftershocks cause you to clench around him a few times, but he continues to stay inside you. He kisses your forehead and you wince as he pulls out.

“Can we cuddle for a bit?” He asks as he throws out the condom.

“Yeah, let me just pee.”

You get up quickly to clean yourself up and then you get back into bed with him. He rests his head on your chest and you scratch his head, running your fingers through his curls.

“I should have Andy stay home today…I know he said he’d go, but…”

“Harry, if he doesn’t go the bullies win. If he really didn’t want to go he would tell us. If he doesn’t go today it’ll just be more difficult to later.”

“I know, you’re right.” He sighs. “I just…I admire him so much. When I was his age I just dressed like everyone else, I never did anything out of the ordinary because I didn’t want to get made fun of. I didn’t become myself until uni. People still gave me looks, but I was old enough not to care. He’s only twelve. He may be brave, but he’s only twelve…I’d hate for any of this to break his spirit.”

“Well, luckily for him he’s got a great dad for a role model. He’s able to be himself because he sees you doing it every day.”

“I…really don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.”

You kiss the top of his head and use your other arm to hug him close to you.

//

Andy was very brave at school. Some of Greg’s friends glared at him, but he had Caroline and Tyler by his side. When Brandon returns to school, and into the actual classroom, Andy feels overjoyed when he sees him sitting in homeroom.

“Hey, B.” He says as he sits down.

“Hey.”

“Did you get all your work? They wouldn’t let me be the one to drop off the worksheets because of Greg.”

“Yeah, I’m all caught up, thanks.” He rests his chin in his palm and puts his other hand over Andy’s. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Andy’s cheeks were on fire.

“Let’s see what we’ve got this week.” He looks at Andy’s nails. “Dark green?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…that’s my favorite color.”

“I know.” Andy smirks, and now it’s Brandon’s cheeks that are on fire. “Are your parents mad at me or anything?”

“What? No, not at all. They were pretty cool about everything, actually.”

“Oh, good…”

“Why?”

“Because, um, when my parents get married, I mean, when my dad and Y/N get married, they said I could invite a friend for the weekend. It’ll be really fun since we’re staying in a hotel suite. We’ll be with my cousins Lizzie and Ritchie.” He swallows. “Would you want to go?”

“Are you serious? Yeah! I’ll ask my parents when I get home. When is it?”

“November sixth.”

“Cool.” Brandon smiles.

“Cool.” Andy smiles back. “My dad asked me to be his best man, too. It’s gonna be awesome.”

“Makes sense since you’re literally the best.”

“Brandon.” Andy giggles as he blushes.

“What?” He giggles too. “It’s true.”

//

“Have loads of fun, babe.”

“I would, but you won’t let go of me.” You chuckle.

This weekend was your bachelorette party, and Harry was hugging you goodbye out at your car, and he hadn’t let you go yet.

“Sorry.” He clears his throat and steps away from you. Then he steps closer to you again to kiss you for the millionth time.

“Har.” You giggle.

“I know, I’m being clingy, I’m sorry. I thought I’d have Andy for the long the weekend…I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with myself.”

“Why don’t you hang out with Andre?”

“Yeah, I might catch a movie with him.”

“Good.” You smile. “I have to go or I’ll be late picking Janette up.”

“Alright.” He kisses you one last time and lets you get into your car.

You pick up Janette and you both squeal as you make the trek down to Boston. You were extremely excited. You’d be sharing a hotel suite with your friends, and the best part was Nora graciously planned the entire thing for you. You couldn’t have asked for a better maid of honor. Next weekend would be your bridal shower, which would be more casual than anything because you and Harry didn’t even put a registry together, you just had a honeymoon fund. You two really didn’t need anything since you were already living in a home together and bought what you needed. So the bridal shower would just be a casual luncheon in the back room of a grill in town.

The second you and Janette get inside the hotel room, Nora starts making frozen margaritas. You look around and see that the theme would be cinco de mayo, very cool. She puts some beads around your neck and hugs you.

“I hope you’re hungry because we’re eating at Fagitas and Ritas tonight.” Darcy says.

“Thank fucking god, I love it there. Everyone, this is Janette.”

“It’s so great to meet you!” Nora says. “Nice to finally meet the work bestie face to face.”

“It’s great to meet you all too. Y/N’s told me wonderful things.”

Janette gets acquainted with Claudia and Mark as well. You weren’t worried about anyone not getting along. Janette reminded you a lot of your friends in general, it’s probably why you clicked with her off the bat.

“Y/N, is Harry doing anything fun this weekend?” Mark asks.

“I’m not sure. He thought he had Andy this weekend, but it’s Paige’s weekend, so he may make plans with his other friends.” You shrug. “He can’t do his bachelor party until right before the wedding when his friends fly in.”

“Paige couldn’t have just switched up the weekends?” Darcy asks.

“She’s supposed to get him for long weekends since Harry has him during the school year. That’s how it used to be when she had him during the school year, so he just wants to do what’s right. He’ll make his own fun, it’ll be fine.”

You all get ready, take a few pictures, and head out. You take the green line to Park Street, and then head down the alley to the restaurant. It was an incredible place. They served liter pitchers of frozen margaritas for groups to share. Your friends would come often, and would get sneaky, often taking an entire liter to the face, and that was the plan for you tonight. You got your tequila lime shrimp tacos, and you all told stories as you downed your drinks. You lean into Nora.

“You’re not taking me to a strip club or anything like that, right? Harry was pretty adamant that he didn’t want me doing that.” You slur.

“No, babe.” She chuckles. “I was thinking a drag show at first, but you always hear about how they can’t stand bridal parties, you know? And then I was thinking of asking Phil and Julian about that gay bar you go to with them, but again I didn’t want to be annoying. We are going to a club for a bit, and we are going to see some men dance, but I wouldn’t call them strippers.”

“Exotic dancers, if you will.” Claudia says. “They stay on the stage the whole time, so you don’t have to worry about a lap dance.”

“And we already took out plenty of cash to throw their way.” Mark says. “I’ve been before, it’s fun.”

“Harry doesn’t need to know.” Janette winks.

“Would you care if he went to a strip club with his friends?” Darcy asks out of curiosity.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He’s really not the type to ogle women, he’s too shy for that I think. He’s a bit possessive in that I don’t even think he would enjoy going somewhere like that because none of the women would be me, you know?”

“Jesus.” Mark says. “Got yourself a good man, I have to say.”

You all raise your glasses to that, and when you’re done you head out, thankful for the cool October air hitting your skin. You hop back on the T to get to the place Nora had set up reservations for. Watching the men dance made for a lot of squealing and blushing on your part, it was all good fun. They showed a little skin, but weren’t stripping, and they really did stay on the stage.

Four men come out dressed in slacks and cummerbunds. I Wanna Sex You Up begins playing, and the choreography looks oddly familiar. Your jaw drops when it registers.

“Nora, you didn’t.”

“I had to.” She chuckles.

“I’m very confused…” Janette says. “Delighted, but confused.”

“In the first season of Glee a few of the guys get together for an all-male acapella group, and this was a memorable scene for Y/N.” Nora explains. “I requested it in advance, let’s tip well.”

You sway back and forth in your chair and sing along with the song as the men continue to dance essentially for you. You were laughing so hard you were crying by the end of it, and you hug your friend. Once you all have had your fill you head to a club so you all could dance.

Now you really felt like you were in your element. Nora had reserved a VIP sections at one of your favorite clubs so you could all dance freely without bumping into a bunch of sweaty strangers. You were sticking with tequila tonight as to not get sick. You were having loads of fun, but you couldn’t help but wonder what Harry had gotten up to, so you tell your friends you need to use the ladies room quickly. The ladies room in the VIP section was actually clean, you were shocked. You may pee just for the hell of it. You take out your phone and call your fiancé.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, baby!” You slur. “Just checking in, whatcha up to?”

“Well…it’s one in the morning, so I was sleeping.”

Oh, shit, you think to yourself. You hadn’t even checked the time on your phone before you called. Now you felt like a proper dick.

“Shit, Har, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize how late it was, and I was thinking of you, and-“

“Babe, it’s alright.” He chuckles. “I went to a movie with Andre and Sandra and then we went out for drinks and a bite to eat. It was fun.”

“Oh, good! Any plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m hoping to get up and go for a run, and then I’m gonna work on my manuscript. Then I may have dinner with Lisa and her husband, but we’ll see.” He yawns.

“I’m really sorry I woke you…”

“I’ll fall back asleep don’t worry about it. What did you all get into tonight?”

“Drinking, dinner, more drinking, we went to, um, a show, and now we’re drinking more at a club.”

“Ah, so you’re still out?”

“Mhm.”

“Go be with your friends, baby.”

“I know, I just…wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

“Mm, well I’m glad you called, then.”

“I love your sleepy voice.” You pout, not that he can see it.

“Y/N, you’re gonna give me a stiffy if you keep talking like that, so, please, go back out and have fun, yeah?”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You sigh and go back out to continue dancing with your friends. You all get back to the hotel around three in the morning, and everyone crashes. The next day was all about recovering cozily. Room service was ordered and many movies were watched.

“Do you think things will change much once you and Harry are married?” Mark asks as you all do face masks.

“Nah, the biggest change will be going onto the same insurance plan.” You laugh. “We’ll start having kids, I know that much.”

“Do you have any big plans for after you get your doctorate?” Darcy asks.

“Mhm, we’re going to take Andy to Disney World as a combined celebration. Harry’s been dying to take him there for, like, and end of middle school thing, but we really wanna go before we have an infant on our hands, so he’s gonna say it’s for his thirteenth birthday instead.”

“That’s the perfect age to go.” Janette says. “He’ll remember way more, plus I bet he’ll enjoy the alone time with the both of you.”

“He’s gonna be so surprised.” You say. “I love that kid.”

“Any tea to spill about him and his friend?” Claudia asks.

“He hasn’t told me much recently.” You shrug. “Which is perfectly fine. He’s coming to the wedding with him, that I know for sure.”

//

Harry wasn’t home when you got back from your bachelorette weekend, so you take the opportunity to have a long shower and get into some comfy clothes. You hear the front door open and close, and go out to see Harry coming in with Andy.

“Hey, guys!” You say brightly.

“Y/N!” Andy says and comes to give you a hug. “Did you have a good time with your friends?”

“I did, yeah. How was Mum’s?”

“Good, we went shopping for a Halloween costume.”

“And what are you planning to be this year?”

“A rock star, so, so she got me a blow up guitar that has a strap, and I’m gonna wear all black. It’s gonna be sick.” He heads down the hall into his room.

“Is he going trick or treating?” You say as you wrap your arms around Harry’s neck. He hugs you for a moment before giving you a lip smacking kiss.

“Yeah, he’ll go out for a bit with his friends, and then I guess Caroline is having a little party at her house.”

“Oh, my…a boy-girl party, huh?”

“I know.” Harry sighs and grips your hips. “He’ll be picked up at 9:30 and not a moment later.” He kisses you again. “How was your weekend?”

“It was a lot of fun, it was so good to get away with them for a bit. Just another reminder of how excited I am to marry you.”

He squishes his nose to yours before letting you go. The evening is cozy as the three of you decide to play a board game before Andy goes to bed. It was an incredible game of Scrabble. Harry tugs you into your bedroom about twenty minutes later, and gets you undressed. You giggle as he kisses on you. You shift to get on top of him, and you pin his wrists to the pillows. You suck on his bottom lip and he groans before you lick into his mouth.

“God, I wanted you so bad this weekend.” You say to him as you kiss down his body. “Miss me?”

“Course I did.” He holds your hair back as you wrap your lips around his throbbing dick. His breath hitches as he feels your tongue run over his slit. “Fuck.” He breathes.

You bob up and down on him for a bit before he has you on your stomach. He pulls your hips back and starts fingering you from behind. You clutch at the pillows. You feel him open your cheeks up and his free thumb starts rubbing on your other hole. He hadn’t done this in a while, you almost forgot how good it felt.

“Shit, Harry.”

“Like that?”

“Feels so good.”

He was knuckle deep inside you, petting against your g-spot, and he gradually starts to work his thumb inside you. You gasp, but let him continue. You suddenly feel…full! It was sending you. You fuck yourself on his fingers while he continues to work his thumb into you.

“Alright? Still feels good?” He grunts. His tip was leaking just watching you.

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop.” You moan out into the pillows so you’re not too loud. You completely lose it around his fingers, and he gives you a moment before retracting himself. You wince a little when you feel his thumb leave you. You stay in position for him while he rolls a condom on.

“You good like that, babe? Your knees don’t hurt?”

“No, I’m good, please, give it to me like this.”

He nods and leans down to kiss you before getting back behind you. He grips your hips and pushes his thick tip inside you. Your back arches once he bottoms out. His pace is slow at first, wanting to ease in and out of you. You start moving on and off him at your own pace.

“Impatient.” He grunts as he lets you use him.

“You weren’t going fast enough.”

“So just tell me to go faster.”

“Thought you liked it when I used you.” You smirk at him over your shoulder and he bites his bottom lip.

“Will you get on top?”

“Yeah.”

He pulls out of you and gets on his back. You swing your leg over and sink down on him. You pin his wrists against the pillows again, and bring yourself down chest to chest. You lick into his mouth as you move on and off his hard dick. Your fingers intertwine and he squeezes your hands.

“Let me rub your clit.” He groans.

“Ask nicely.”

“Can I rub your clit?”

“Yes.”

You let go of one of his hands, and he snakes it between the two of you. You gasp into his mouth as he rubs circles into you. Sweat pools between your bellies, and you both lose it. You rest on top of him for a few moments before getting off. Once you’re both cleaned up you snuggle up to him in bed and lay your head on his chest.

“Slept like shit without you, if I’m being honest.” You tell him and kiss on his tattooed collar bones.

“I had to use my body pillow for the first time in forever.”

“I wrapped myself up in my little blanket burrito like I used to, but it just wasn’t the same. I enjoy your heavy body way more.”

“I’m always afraid I’m gonna crush you.” He chuckles.

“Oh, like when you lay fully on top of me? I fucking love that.” You smirk and he shakes his head.

“You’re suck a little freak.”

“Yeah, but I’m your freak.” You kiss his cheek. “I’m also not the one that enjoys giving people rim jobs, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I didn’t even do that tonight!”

“You still got in there.”

“And you liked it, so don’t kinkshame me.”

“I’m not! I like that you’re a little kinky.” You giggle.

“Just so you know, I don’t do that with just anyone…” He mutters.

“Aw, well don’t I feel special.” You say sarcastically. “It’s so good to know you’ve only had your tongue up a few people’s asses.” He blinks at you and you start laughing. “Chill, I’m just teasing.” You peck his lips and turn over, and he turns with you to wrap himself around you.

“You’re lucky I think you’re incredibly cute, you know that?”

//

Trick or treating was fun, but short lived. Andy his friends hit up the houses they knew that had the best candy, and then made their way to Caroline’s. You and Harry were at a Halloween themed game night at Mateo’s. Caroline’s house had a finished basement, so it was the perfect spot for a little party. Most of Andy’s homeroom was there. Her sister’s had helped set up donuts on strings for a little contest. There was music playing, and everyone was having a good time. There was even a wall with decorations for people to take pictures. Andy takes plenty with his friends.

Once Caroline’s sisters go upstairs, the kids all get into a game of truth or dare. They all sit in a circle on the floor, and put a bottle in the middle. The dares were lighthearted at first, someone had to cluck like a chicken, someone had to chug a can of soda, someone had to see how many marshmallows they could fit into their mouth, normal kid stuff. Then it got a little more serious. Some were daring others to go into the closet for seven minutes, others had to admit to having crushes.

“Okay, Brandon…” A girl named Maggie says, “truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He shrugs.

“Alright, I dare you to go into the closet with Andy for seven minutes.”

Andy nearly chokes on his drink, and looks wide eyed at Brandon.

“What exactly do you want us to do in there?” Brandon asks.

“Doesn’t matter, whatever happens is between you two.” She shrugs.

It wasn’t like they were the only same sex people to be asked to go into the closet. Some kids were out already, but things weren’t as obvious for Brandon and Andy.

“Do you want to?” Brandon asks him.

“I guess.”

They both get up, and go into the closet. Someone starts a timer for seven minutes. Andy leans against one of the walls of the closet. It was roomy.

“It’s too dark in here.” Brandon says as he turns the flashlight of his phone on. He sets it on the floor so it’s not blinding. “There we go, now I can see you.” Andy gives him a small smile. “Have I told you how cool your costume is?”

“Thanks, my mum helped me put it together. Although, Y/N helped with the eye liner.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I like yours too.”

“I don’t know, I thought it was kind of lame.” He chuckles. “A baseball player isn’t exactly original, but my mom wanted to make sure I was wearing pants.” He sighs.

“I know! Parents are always so worried about us being cold. It’s not like we were out that long.”

“Hey, remember when we were thing one and thing two in elementary school? We had to meet up like every weekend to make sure everything matched!”

“Yeah! I’m so glad we don’t have to do that anymore.” Andy stands up straight. “How long do you think it’s been?”

“Just a couple minutes.”

“This is such a weird dare…feel like I’m in an eighties movie.” Andy scoffs.

“I know, it feels like a force.” He sighs. “M’not gonna kiss you in a closet. That’s just what everyone wants. Then we’d have to walk out of here all awkward.”

“I don’t want you to kiss me in here either.” Andy chews his bottom lip. “But I do want you to kiss me, Brandon, really bad.” So many things had been left unsaid between them, and this was the first time Andy really said it to his friend.

“Maybe we can find somewhere else to go, somewhere less obvious.”

Andy nods, and the door opens. A few people frown as they can tell nothing happened between the two. It was getting closer to 9:30, and neither Andy nor Brandon wanted to get interrupted by a call from a parent again. Brandon watches as Andy goes over to Caroline.

“Is there somewhere private he and I can go?”

“Weren’t you two just alone?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but it would have been so obvious…”

Caroline looks around. She thinks to tell them to go to the bathroom, but that would be obvious too. Her basement was a walkout, and the outside portion had been screened in for bugs. They could go out there for a few minutes. They could just say they’re getting some air.

“Go outside for a few minutes.” She nods over to the sliding door. “I’ll standby to keep watch.”

“You’re the best.”

Andy and Brandon go outside unnoticed by anyone else.

“You’re okay out here…like this?” Brandon asks.

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath. “I need to know something before we do this, though…I mean, how do you feel about me? Because I like you, Brandon, like really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know when it started exactly. I just know that I do.”

Andy smiles at him and backs up to the siding of the house as Brandon walks towards him. Andy reaches up and turns Brandon’s baseball cap around so it wouldn’t get in the way. They both chuckle out of nerves. Brandon cups one of Andy’s cheeks and leans in.

“You’re sure?” Brandon asks.

“Yes.” He breathes.

Andy closes his eyes, and braces himself. Brandon’s lips press against his. The first thing he notices is how soft Brandon’s lips are, but he wasn’t surprised because he was always using chapstick. The second thing he notices is how he feels warm all over. He had butterflies in his stomach, but they were the good kind. He reaches up to cup one of Brandon’s cheeks so he won’t pull away. They stay like that for a few moment, kissing innocently. Brandon pulls away to get some air and presses his forehead to Andy’s.

“How was that for a first kiss?” Brandon looks at him.

“B-better than I ever imagined.” He tugs on Brandon’s jersey to pull him back in and they kiss once more. They both giggle afterwards. “H-how was I?”

“Best kiss I’ve ever had.”

“Jesus.” Andy blushes. “We, um, we should keep this quiet until after the wedding. If we say anything to our parents they may not let us share a hotel room or they might add more rules or something.”

“Shit, you’re right…yeah, let’s keep it to ourselves for now. I…I mean, I don’t even know what this all means, like, are we gay?”

“Well…you could be, but I like boys and girls.” It was wild how easily he was just able to admit it. “It’s called bi, or whatever, so that’s what I think I am. Does it matter? I like you and you like me, that’s it.”

“Right, that’s all that really matters.” Brandon smiles.

Andy feels his phone buzz in his pocket, and he takes it out to see that Harry texted he was out front.

“I have to go, my parents are here.”

“Okay.”

The boys hug and then kiss one more time before going inside. Andy and Caroline share a knowing look, and then he makes the rounds saying goodbye. He heads upstairs and thanks Caroline’s sisters for having him, and then goes outside with all his candy. Harry would need to inspect it when they got home. He climbs into the backseat of the car. You were in a giggly mood from the wine you had drank at game night.

“Andy! How was the party?” You ask him as you turn around slightly to make eye contact.

“Oh, um, it was good, really, really good.”

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s S2 R&S - Glacier Navigation

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Rumours & Secrets, 冰川行舟, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

This R&S features S2 Shaw

In terms of sequencing, this is Shaw’s first S2 R&S!

[ Chapter One ]

On this rare break, a phone call from Shaw brings me to the entrance of Loveland University.

At the school gate, a huge “Welcome New Students" banner waves in the wind. The osmanthus petals at my feet exude the unique scent of late summer and early autumn.

I follow Shaw through the bustling crowd and towards the graduate student registration point.

MC: The registration office... this should be it.

Shaw: Are you sure it's here? Just look at these registering students - how do they look like graduate students?

MC: You’re clearly the one who doesn’t look like a graduate student, okay?

Shaw glances at the long line outside the door of the office. Clicking his tongue, he eventually stands at the back properly.

Not having to wait for long, the both of us reach the head of the line.

MC: You don't need me to accompany you for the registration, do you?

Shaw: What are you thinking? Are you treating me like a kid?

MC: Then why did you drag me along to school...

Shaw: I just took you out for a breather after seeing you squatting at home for a few weeks.

He waves his hand at me in self-assurance, turning his head and entering the office.

I lean against the wall, waiting for him. As soon as I take out my phone, the tall figure walks out of the office fiercely.

MC: ...how did you settle it so quickly?

Shaw doesn’t respond. He suddenly leans forward, his eyes almost within reach. His half-squinting eyes contain slight irritation.

MC: W-what do you want... Ah! Don't touch my hair!

I raise my hand to protect my hair, but my cheek ends up getting pinched twice by two of his fingers.

Shaw: This is your punishment for leading me to the wrong place.

MC: No way, we really went to the wrong place?

Shaw: This is the registration point for the Chinese Department. The Archaeology Department is in Zhi Hua Building.

MC: Zhi Hua Building... I remember now. I think we passed by it earlier.

Shaw: Really?

Knowing that I was in the wrong, I quickly lift both my hands up as a guarantee.

MC: Really, I definitely won’t be wrong this time!

Shaw: Fine, I’ll reluctantly believe you this time. The last time.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

Since heading to the wrong place led to quite a delay, the door to the registration office of the Department of Archaeology is completely empty.

Shaw knocks on the office door. Inside, there’s only one middle-aged teacher who is currently reading the newspaper.

Teacher: A freshman? Come, fill in this form. Did you bring a copy of your ID card? If you didn’t bring it, give me the original. I'll make a copy for you.

Shaw: I brought it.

Teacher: What about the one-inch photo?

Shaw: Here.

Teacher: Oh, the boy's ID photo is so handsome! Sit for a while, I have to make a record.

Shaw: Mm, thanks for the hard work, teacher.

The teacher sits in front of the computer leisurely, then casts a curious glance at the door.

Teacher: Is that young lady outside your girlfriend?

Shaw: No.

Shaw pauses, then adds on.

Shaw: Just a friend.

Teacher: Oh... I understand~

The middle-aged man reveals a meaningful smile, and can’t help but gesture at the young man in front of him

Teacher: Young people have to be braver. How can a boy be so shy!

Shaw suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, squeezing out words one by one from between his teeth.

Shaw: Teacher, are you done with the registration?

[Note] There are different ways of saying “you” in Chinese, depending on formality! When being polite and respectful, especially to an elder, 您 (“nin”) is used. When talking to friends or someone younger, 你 (“ni”) is used. SHAW USES 您 HERE BECAUSE HE IS A POLITE BOY

Teacher: Yes yes, sign here. There’s one more thing I have to tell you. Because you filled in your identity as an Evolver on the form, I’ll have to trouble you to submit a copy of the Evol inspection report.

Shaw: The notice didn’t mention that I had to bring it.

Teacher: It’s a new requirement. It conveniences the school in terms of management, so I hope you can understand. Last semester, an Evolver lost control of his ability and almost lifted the entire classroom. The STF were called down for a day, and it was very troublesome. 

When he hears the term “STF”, Shaw’s expression stirs slightly. Then, he clicks his tongue impatiently.

Shaw: So troublesome...

Teacher: What did you say?

Shaw: Nothing. Can I hand it in another day?

Teacher: It's fine, just come back within five working days. Here, your notice.

Shaw: Thanks.

-

[ Chapter Three ]

Schoolmate A: Schoolmate, want to check out our e-sports club? We organise competitions every month, and you can receive exquisite merchandise!

Schoolmate B: Schoolmate, come take a look at our basketball club! Handsome guys and beautiful girls gather and keep fit...

Today happens to be the club recruitment day. When Shaw and I pass by the public square, students constantly stop us, asking if we wish to join their clubs.

I look at Shaw curiously, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in any clubs. He walks quickly, not even giving them a glance.

When we’re about to leave the public square, we are once again stopped by a student.

Schoolmate C: Schoolmates, I can tell at a glance that you’re both from the Arts Department, right? Tsk tsk, your outfits have such an artistic quality. I’m from the rock club of our school. Even though the club was only established this year, I believe we have great potential! Usually, the club will organise activities introducing various instruments and music appreciation for hobbyists. Our club president even formed a band himself! They’re performing over there. Do you two want to have a listen?

I initially thought that Shaw would once again ignore him and leave. Unexpectedly, he suddenly stops in his footsteps, then arches his eyebrows with interest.

Shaw: Oh? You guys have a band?

Schoolmate C: Of course! We don't do covers. They’re all original songs!

Shaw: Let’s have a listen then.

MC: Do you actually want to join this rock club?

Shaw: We’ll talk after listening.

After saying this, he walks towards the area surrounded by a cluster of people.

The venue is simple, but there’s a sizeable number of audience members. The band members in the middle are wagging their heads while performing a song.

The vocals are discordant, and the sound quality is inferior. I’m unable to hear the lyrics clearly, but the melody is really catchy.

MC: I didn't expect them to look like an actual band... Shaw?

Shaw: ...tch.

Shaw grabs my arm, leaving the scene without saying a word.

MC: What’s wrong?

Shaw: Hearing plagiarised songs dirties my ears.

MC: That song from before was plagiarised?!

Shaw: They copied an unpopular old song from the 80s. No wonder these people didn’t realise it. You should also improve your musical literacy so you wouldn’t be confused by copied songs.

MC: So what you mean is... I should listen to your band’s songs more?

Shaw: Of course.

I burst out laughing, and Shaw raises his eyebrows in dissatisfaction.

Shaw: What are you laughing at?

MC: No, no, I just think that you’ve always been very serious about your band...

Shaw: You seem pretty concerned about my band?

MC: Mm. I know that you really like this band.

Shaw glances at me, as though verifying the sincerity of my words.

Then, he turns his gaze away, and sunlight touches the corners of his sharp and slightly raised mouth.

Shaw: Even if it’s just for fun, I’ll do even better than everyone else.

He says these words matter-of-factly, as though so long as he’s willing, every difficulty can be stamped out by him.

Shaw takes a final look back at the noisy public square. Retrieving a pair of earphones from his pocket, he hands it to me.

Shaw: Wear it properly. I’ll let you listen to truly good music.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

Shaw: Let’s go. Also, we’ll stop by the supermarket along the way. I’m buying some daily necessities.

MC: I really couldn’t tell that you’d be willing to stay in a dormitory.

Shaw: Who said so? I don’t plan to stay in a dormitory.

MC: Huh?

Shaw: I never stay with outsiders. 

Shaw: Anyway, there’s a small room in Live House, and I plan to live there. Rehearsals will be convenient too.

MC: Oh... but your place is really too empty. Aside from a bed, it doesn't look liveable.

Shaw: Hm? How’d you know that my place is empty?

MC: I...

I bite my tongue, hurriedly tossing out a reason to muddle through it.

MC: I don’t even have to think about it to know. Judging by your personality, your house definitely has nothing but bare walls.

Probably because of my self-assured tone, Shaw retracts his scrutinising gaze, pursing his lips. 

Shaw: That’s not how you use “nothing but bare walls”. Did you even pay attention in school... Let’s go.”

[Note] The reason why Shaw says this is because what MC used was 家徒四壁 (“jia tou si bi”), which is an idiom literally translating to “nothing but bare walls”. However, this idiom is supposed to describe someone who is very poor!

Shaw has always been very proactive. When he finishes speaking, he quickly takes me to the nearest supermarket from school.

After a short while, the shopping cart is stuffed to the brim.

Shaw: ...wait. I asked you to get a washbowl for me. Why’d you get me three? Do you need to use three washbasins to wash your face every day?

MC: These three washbasins have their respective uses! This one is for washing your face, this one is for washing your body, this one...”

Shaw: Washes what?

MC: Fruits!

Shaw: So troublesome. I might as well buy fruits that I can eat directly without washing.

MC: This is a refined life, okay? If you think it’s too much, then I'll reduce... Hey, what did you put into the cart?

Shaw: Daily necessities.

Lowering my head to take a look, I see three boxes of animal-shaped clothes hangers. The chubby little animals have their cheeks puffed out, lying in the washbowls I’m buying.

MC: Wow, so cute! You’re quite good at picking things too! ...but why are you buying three boxes?

Shaw: I learnt from you. One box for clipping towels, one box for clipping clothes, and one box...

MC: Huh?

Shaw doesn’t finish the second half of the sentence, and I subconsciously look up at him, meeting his sly eyes.

Shaw: Since you came out to run errands today, I’ll give it to you.

-

Shaw leans against the door of Live House, quietly watching the taxi drown in the neon glow. Suddenly, the phone in his pocket vibrates slightly.

An unknown number appears on the screen. Shaw frowns, then lifts his hand to tap the answer button.

?: I heard you reported to school today?

Shaw: Looks like you guys are really free. You even have to bother about my enrolment in school?

?: How is it? Is everything going smoothly?

Shaw: It’s fine. Some situations cropped up, but I’m still in a pretty good mood. Also, you guys have to help me with something. The school wants me to submit an Evol inspection report. Forge one for me.

?: No problem. You can collect it from the usual place. Is there anything unusual about Nox from BS recently?

Hearing this alias, Shaw subconsciously glances into the distance. However, all that is visible is the gorgeous night of the city.

Shaw: She's been very busy recently, and seems to keep working overtime. That's it.

?: You know that’s not what we’re asking about.

Shaw: ...what’s the rush? I haven't finished investigating what you guys want to know.

?: Let me remind you not to mix in unnecessary emotions. Don't forget your mission either.

Shaw: I know. I'm hanging up.

The streetlights lining the long street light up in succession, dyeing Shaw’s hair in a warm colour.

He looks at the phone for a long time, and an untamed smile surfaces on the corners of his lips.

Shaw: I have the final say on how to deal with her.

He takes the long skateboard he had set by the side, lifts his ankle slightly, and skates into the night without hesitation.

More from S2: here