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maiamore · 20 days ago

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𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞

Masterlist | College/Uni!Joel Miller x F!Reader | 18+ | 6.3k wc

Summary: He was supposed to stay a fantasy. A problem you could handle alone. Now he’s real. And unfortunately a bigger problem than you could ever imagine. Or, Joel eats you out with a full blown party going on outside your door.

Tags: uni!joel, tag hidden for plot surprise, pwp, reader is an unintentional voyeur, mention of f!masturbation, slowburn, auditory kink, descriptions of a breakup, talks of self worth, body worship, joel being a capital m MUNCH, alcohol, frat parties, reader can be perceived as inexperienced in this, f!receiving oral, fingering, descriptive sexual terms, joel is a meanie at the end

𐙚 in honour of all the peepaw joel fic writers, i offer you, peepaw joel in his prime as a young southern heartthrob <3 big big love to my beta readers from the lovely ppcu community too ahhh

“...it wasn’t even him you were into. You didn’t know his name, wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a crowd. Dude could’ve been missing a tooth or had a barbed wire tattoo around his calf for all you know. This wasn’t about attraction. This was about survival.”

You didn’t plan on starting your freshman year at NYU living in the dorms of all places. But when the administration office called you two weeks before move in day to say, “congrats, you’re off the waitlist! Oh, and by the way, you need to give us a confirmed accommodation,” you didn’t have much of a choice.

The dorm was a shoebox. A literal shoebox.

Your bed was a twin XL that squeaked like a dying hamster every time you rolled over, desk a glorified airplane meal tray and a closet that could barely fit the three hoodies—you’d convinced yourself that it was temporary. Just one year of communal showers, questionable cafeteria food and the occasional fire alarm at 3 am. You could handle it.

What you couldn’t handle was the noise.

Your dorm was sandwiched between the engineering and architecture buildings—or, as you quickly learned, meathead-fucking-central. The engineers were a special breed. They threw parties on weeknights, blasted EDM at ungodly hours and seemed to have a never ending supply of energy drinks, moonshine and bad decisions.

And then there was him.

You didn’t even know what he looked like. All you knew was that your dorm neighbour got a kick out of breaking rules. It’d started innocently enough. A muffled laughter here, a low murmur there. It was a given with the shitty foam like paper walls, noise travelled. You didn’t mind, for the most part. Nara at the left wall, as you learned, had a routine of sobbing every other night and blasting Sade. Which was, well, valid. Becca past the right wall on the other hand…was a different story.

The first time it happened, you were lying in bed, trying to drown out the bass from MHC’s (Meathead Central’s) fourth party in a row this week. As always, semi-soundproof earbuds and a tasteful true crime binge got you through most nights this way.

Fuck. Doin’ so good.

The voice that bled through the right walls was deep, but soft in a way that made your pussy flip. Did Becca sneak a guy into the girls' dorms? Regardless, you told yourself to ignore it. To put your earbuds back in and focus on the podcast.

Thas’ it. Jus’ like that.

In a move you’d soon realise you’d come to regret, you peeled one side of your earbuds out. You heard Becca clearly, her soft breathy moans & mewls enough to make even you blush. You were never looking at that girl the same ever again.

But there it was again, that male voice.

Baby, please.

That sent chills down your spine. It wasn't like you’d never heard sex noises before. But this…this was different. There was something about the way he spoke to her. The way his voice purred and rolled, sounding like he was smiling even when he was out of breath.

In a weak attempt to ignore the non-existence of your own sex life, you turned to cover yourself with your pillow. And in an even more uncharacteristic move, you’d decided not to put your earbuds back on.

It happened the next night. And the night after that.

By the end of the first semester, you knew his routine. He liked to take his time. He was generous—maybe too generous, judging by the way Becca always sounded like she was on the verge of tears constantly, or orgasms. Probably both. More importantly, it was the torment you were going through in the no-dick department that was killing you.

So fuckin’ pretty like this.

Thas’ my girl.

Lemme hear you, sweetheart.

Who the hell said stuff like that anymore? What sort of college guy had all that in his docket? Whatever it was, it was effective.

In your defense, it wasn’t even him you were into. You didn’t know his name, wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a crowd. Dude could’ve been missing a tooth or had a barbed wire tattoo around his calf for all you know. This wasn’t about attraction. This was about survival. Because while your friends were all off enjoying normal, well adjusted romantic lives? You were drier than the Sahara and battling a full on auditory kink you didn’t even know you had.

By the fourth month, you stopped trying to pretend you were above it. Pride only got you so far when you were curled up in bed, a pillow over your head, trying not to physically react to the sound of someone else's sex life.

Eventually, shame had lost the war. Throwing on a hoodie with the hood yanked up, with sunglasses shoved on like you were about to rob the bodega down fourth—you marched your pathetic ass three blocks off campus to the local adult toy store.

You didn’t browse, didn’t linger. You knew what you were there for. 5 minutes later, you’d walked out with a brown paper bag with full knowledge that you were now apparently the kind of person who bought a magic wand just because of a stranger’s voice through drywall.

The first year of school flew by in a blur of late night study sessions & caffeine induced breakdowns.

By the time spring rolled around, you were counting down the days until you could move out. Your older brother, RJ, had been your saving grace. He was a senior at NYU, and when his roommate decided to move out a month early, he offered you the spare room in his studio.

You didn’t need to be told twice. It was bad enough your masturbation habits were on par with committing a low grade felony.

The day of the move was purely and utterly painful. Packing a whole year of your life into two repurposed garbage cardboard boxes was a challenge on its own. You were halfway out the door when you were stopped in your tracks by a pair of denim jeans smacking the wall past your head.

Readjusting your grip on the cardboard box, you look towards the door that flung open to your right in confusion.

“Don’t be like that, Beck.”

“Out, Joel!”

A man stumbles backward into the halls seconds later, all broad shouldered, clutching a wad of fabric to his chest. You had to wrench your head all the way up to look at the apparent stranger. His hair was a pillow creased disaster, jaw faintly stubbled. His eyes, warm as bourbon landed on yours before they’re back at Becca, bargaining with her.

You knew that voice. You’d memorized it. The way it hitched at the end of a groan, the graveled thas’ it, sweetheart that had haunted you for fucking months.

It was a pavlovian response to clench your thighs, much like a dog hearing dry kennel being poured into a sad metal bowl. And of course he’d be right here—while you were wearing last Thursday's hoodie and gripping a cardboard box looking like a Victorian orphan being evicted from her plague infested foster home.

You weren’t prepared for this. For the voice to belong to a man who’d somehow managed to be more devastating than your imagination. Months were spent attributing those noises, words, to a faceless figure. Now here he was, giving you a polite once over. The both of you jolt in place after Becca slams the door in his face.

Joel, as you now learned, simply stretches once, giving you an unexpected display of his toned body in the process before bending over to retrieve the exiled jeans from beside you. Your traitorous eyes follow a faint trail of dark hair that started just below his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.

A record scratched in your head when you realized just how blatantly you were gawking at him. Hastily, you whip your gaze away to the peeling wallpapers. The air feels heavy, and for some reason, it felt like you were the one caught sneaking out of a guy’s dorm.

With his jeans now in hand, Joel takes his time stepping into them one leg at a time, still exuding a ridiculous amount of calmness for a dude who was just unceremoniously booted into the hallway. Without shoes.

He zips up, fastens the button and only then acknowledges your presence with a slow, easy smile that mades you want to chew on your slippers. “...Movin’ out?”

You blinked, then nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Um. Moving.”

Brilliant. Just brilliant. A whole three words spat out and not a single shred of dignity in sight. You walked past him quickly, head ducked low with heat creeping up the back of your neck. You hadn’t said anything else. What could you possibly even say?

Thanks for ruining my GPA with your voice alone? Hey, I now have a new porn category search for ‘ASMR Southern Male talks you through a quick fuck’ thanks to you.

Fuck no.

You’d carry this quiet devastation with you like a cursed locket.

8 MONTHS LATER

“You’re overreacting,” your boyfriend’s words echoed through the halls, tone the verbal equivalent of an eye roll. “It’s just a text.”

You clenched the phone in your hand tighter, the screen still lit with a message from his ‘girl bestie’. It wasn’t always like this with Mattie. At first, it was comfortable. He shared the same wounds you had growing up with a single parent. And on-off high school relationships often ended up feeling just like that. Superficial and enough to fill the loneliness.

But somewhere along the way, it turned sour. The subtle belittlement and gaslighting became the norm.

“Can’t wait for Nobu.” You continued reading from just the lock screen, with an exaggerated sultry tone to further exemplify the message from Jess-whats-her-face.

“With a fucking winky face emoji. Cuz that’s totally platonic,” you shoot back, your voice rising. “What’s next? Thinking of you? Wish you were here with a sad face, black heart, wilted rose emoji?”

He sighs dramatically. A sigh that was reserved for whenever you’d brought up perfectly reasonable concerns regarding his behaviour. “You’re being paranoid. Again.”

“You shouldn’t even be looking at my phone, Lex, my texts are my own privacy.” He takes the device from your custody, slipping it into his back pocket.

You flinched at the nickname—a “cute” shorthand for Lexapro he’d coined after your first fight. Now, even your dad & brother used it.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What, Lex?” He smirked. And you visibly wince at the charming smile stretched across his sculpted jaw. People could call you whatever they wanted—but your investment mentality proved finer when you had a golden trophy like Mattie all sparkly next to you. But not right now. Right now his good looks blinded you like an obscene tail light in the crack ass of night.

“C’mon, babe. You used to think it was cute.”

You had. Back when he’d bring you soup when you were sick, or race to your side with jumper cables when your shitbox Civic died in the twenty four hour Walmart parking lot. Back when comfortable didn’t feel like a cage with rusty bars and love long fizzled.

“Look. I’ve gotta go to practice.” He pauses. Thumbing the growing warmth on your cheeks, further fueling your humiliation. “Find a way to calm the hell down till then?”

Motherfucker.

The kiss goodbye then sent spikes of pure and unadulterated anger down your spine. Mixed in with disgust. It didn’t take a genius to know what he was doing now. Skillfully making you the big bad overthinking wolf.

The front door slams shut behind him and you remain there, trembling, until the sound of his shitty muffler faded. Then, you’d stormed down the hall, vision blurry, promptly colliding with a wall of flannel and Old Spice.

“Watch it—” The apparent ‘wall’ steadies you by the shoulders with a grip tight enough to bruise.

Your nose scrunched at the impact, jerking your head up only to be met with a warm, deep gaze.

The better part of the past couple of months were spent trying to scrub that voice from your memory—only to move in with your brother and discover, all wrapped up as a cosmic fucking joke, Joel Miller being your brother's best friend.

Not the casual kind of best friend either. No. He was a permanent fixture in RJ’s loft. A ‘lingers in the hallway for no reason when you're trying to have a mental breakdown’ kind of fixture.

He'd apparently known RJ since freshman year, bonding over their mutual love of fixing things with the wrong tools and DVR-ing reruns of Diehard. And you? You attained the privilege of awkward run-ins with phantom memories of moaned sweethearts.

Joel raises a brow, a six pack of Lone star dangled from his grip, gaze flicking from the door and back at you. He notices your red rimmed lashes, and he bites back whatever ‘advice’ he had for you. “He at it again?”

You don’t bother responding. There’s no point. He’s too good at this—standing there, as though your emotional collapse was just part of the scenery. You shouldered past him, but you still feel him behind you, trailing at an unbothered pace.

“Cuz that’s a real healthy way to process feelin’s.”

You paused, shooting a furrowed look at Joel knowing the words were intentionally said louder for you to hear. Which seemed to amuse him. You’d always seemed like a skittish cat ready to attack, and he could never understand just why.

“What are you even doing here again?”

He lifts his chin, nudging it toward the hall where you could already hear the telltale screech of speakers in RJ’s room. “Throwin’ nother' rager for the week,” he says, like that explains everything. Which, honestly, it does.

MHC wasn’t a place, it was a state of being. A brotherhood of gym rats, overconfident engineering majors, and business students who called each other king unironically. RJ was a constant customer. And Joel?

Joel was collateral. The designated driver. The unbothered, water carrying best friend. Usually because RJ asked and Joel was too loyal—or too bored to say no.

“So you’re the babysitter again.”

“You’d be surprised how much stupid I can prevent by showin’ up early.” He offers you a relaxed, lop-sided smile before patting you on your shoulder as he moves past you. He sets the six-pack down on the island and opens the fridge like he owned the place. He just starts unloading the drinks one by one, all efficient, with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

And there it was again—that infuriatingly quiet stability he carried. Like nothing could knock him off balance. He could’ve tried to comfort you, or asked you if you wanted to talk, but even in the short months of knowing you, he’d already known your process. Joel was built for this specific purpose, existing unbothered while everything around him descended into shit. He was someone who always knew exactly what version of himself he was showing.

And you hated that it made you feel even more unstable by comparison.

By the time the sun sank beneath the city skyline, the loft had taken on its usual weekend transformation.

What began as a lived-in, half-cleaned space, had become something else entirely. A makeshift club if you will, cluttered with horrible strobe lights paired with even more horrible decisions. The air heavy with the scent of dior sauvage and axe body spray—colored LEDs pulsed along the ceiling with the heartbeat of something coming alive, bass rattling low through the floorboards, reverberating up your legs with each beat.

You rarely stayed for these. The parties RJ threw were loud, messy and frankly, performative. It was essentially an excuse for half the football team to grind out their insecurities with cheap beer and too loud speakers. On most weekends you'd have been long gone before the first song had dropped. But tonight, you’d lingered. Nursing a hurt that no one in your life, not even your closest friends had known about. Conversations melted into one another, a constant singular noise that dulled the whirlpool that was your mind. It was, in every way, a party just like any other.

Until it wasn’t.

The moment you caught sight of him, the world stilled around you. Mattie stood near the center of the living room, his arm slung around what's-her-face's shoulders in a way that left zero room for misinterpretation. She had her tilted her head up towards him, her lips brushing the line of his jaw as she said something you couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it made him laugh—soft, genuine, the kind of sound he hadn’t made around you in weeks. Months, even.

Halfway between the kitchen and the living room, you stood frozen, one hand clutching a plastic cup. Your breath had slowed, like your entire body was trying to buy you time to process what your eyes refused to deny. Yet, it all felt so predictable.

But you weren’t the only one watching.

Joel was leaned up against the doorframe, half shadowed by the low lights from the hallway. He’d been keeping quiet most of the evening like he always had during these things. He hovered mostly, observed. Sober by necessity and present by obligation. But now, something in his stance had shifted. Gone was the relaxed slouch and the idle sipping from his half warm can of Lone star.

There was a quiet fury rolling off of him, simmering slow and deep. Gaze tracking Mattie’s movements. His chest rose with a steady breath, but his eyes betrayed the front he’d been putting up. There was nothing calm about the way he was looking at Mattie.

Then his eyes shifted, just slightly, and found you.

He saw the exact moment your expression twisted. How your shoulders tensed, and the way your fingers twitched around the crumpled cup. You didn’t make a scene, didn’t scream. For too long, you merely watched. The weight of the sight pressing into your chest like the stone tied to your ribs was finally sinking. Minutes go by before you retreat down the hallway as if you hadn’t just been gutted in plain sight.

–

Joel had spent the past ten minutes pacing down the hallway. He should’ve done the sensible thing and let someone else handle it. This wasn’t his place, you weren’t his responsibility. RJ’s little sister. But there he was anyway. With three solid raps of his knuckles against the wood, he rests his forehead against your door. “Y’alright in there?”

You hadn’t answered, but he opens the door when it doesn't lock him out, stepping inside cautiously. His boots soft on the hardwood, he shuts the world out behind him with a quiet click. Your lamp was on, casting a warm amber glow across the room, a thrumming vibration on the floors remained as a reminder you two weren’t quite alone. His gaze lands where you were curled up on the bed, with your knees tucked against your chest.

Crossing the room slowly, he shucked his boots by your doors and you feel the bed dip beneath his weight. For a while, silence filled the room.

“Say the word…” he began, “an’ I’ll put him through the fuckin’ drywall.”

“There’s no point.” Your voice was muffled when it finally came. “We broke up,” you added, quieter. “...Few hours ago”. As if that justified it. As if that meant that fuck-all dick out there could rub his new piece in your face, in your own goddamn home no less.

“He’s been messin’ with her a while now,” he spat out, like it physically pained him to hold that in any longer. “Knew it. Heard things. Shoulda said somethin’. Shoulda cracked his fuckin’ jaw the second I saw his hand on her.”

You looked at him then, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. “It wasn’t your—”

“I mean it,” he adds, voice suddenly sharper. “Jus' stood there. Like y'ain't even think you deserved better.”

“I’m okay,” you offered, but it came out weak, like you didn’t even believe it yourself.

Joel turned to look at you fully now, the light catching on the edge of his jaw. He hadn’t pushed, but the stormy look in his eyes said plenty. He didn’t buy that shit.

You looked away almost instinctively. “It—it…wasn’t like he was completely awful to me. It was comfortable.”

“Comfortable,” he muttered under his breath, like the word tasted wrong. “That what he was? Comfortable? My fuckin’ space blast knickers are comfortable. That ain’t what you use to describe a relationship that means somethin’.”

Your eyes flicked over to him, almost finding it comical that Joel of all people had that stance. “Yeah? That’s real rich, coming from you.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

You leaned back against the bed frames, giving him a dry, pointed look. “First year I moved into the dorms, you were a cautionary tale, Joel. Don’t act like you don't have a reputation.”

Joel doesn’t respond. His jaw locked tight and he turned his face away, gaze settling somewhere near the floor. It shouldn’t have hit, he’d heard worse. Hell, he’d done worse. But coming from you? It’d speared through his chest. His palm comes up to drag across his jaw, considering walking out from there to spare you his hypocritical advice.

“...I think I just stayed cause’ it felt easier than starting over,” you said softly, catching his attention once more before he’d gone on his own shame spiral over your scathing perception of him.

“Didn’t want to explain myself—didn’t want to learn someone new.”

Joel doesn’t speak, but you feel him scoot up your bed. His weight dipped the mattress near your feet and you heard the faint chafe of fabric as he adjusted. Calloused fingers brushed against your ankle, just a graze at first. Barely there. But when you didn’t flinch or pull away, he let them linger. His thumb traced the curve of bone and then, without a word, he idly played with the silver chain there.

You sucked in a breath, throat tightening at his silent coax for you to continue. “Mattie…he wasn’t even my type. Not really. He was just—” You hesitated, mulling over your words. “Did me a favour, I suppose.”

He rolls one of the dainty charms between his fingers, the pad of his thumb catching on the tiny jewel. Something about it felt so intentional, he wasn’t trying to flirt. He was soothing you, steadying you with the sort of intimacy that wasn’t loud. It was instinctive.

He glanced at you then, brows knit. “Did you a favour��how?”

A forced laughter spilled from your lips, having to admit to someone else that the reason for the demise of your relationship could’ve just been you felt a little ridiculous. “I mean, c’mon. He had that smile, looks, charm…”

Joel’s thumb dragged slowly over your anklet again, his thumb twisting around your shin, his fingers soothing the base. “An’ you think that means somethin’.”

“You ever even seen what you look like when you’re not tryin’? You’re a goddamn knockout, sweetheart,” Joel says easily, gaze flicking down briefly as if the soft skin he was rubbing against his fingers were the only thing grounding him. “Only difference is, he needed to be told he was worth somethin'.You never did.”

You shifted slightly, dragging your own fingers up and down your arm in a slow defensive gesture. “It wasn’t even all that good with him,” you admit, looking where his palms stroked up your calves. “Like, the whole thing. It always felt…I dunno. Rushed. Like a transaction.”

“He always knew what he wanted. I think…I just got good at pretending I wanted the same.”

Something crosses his mind, but Joel doesn’t voice anything right away. But something shifted in his posture. And you could tell too, the words that were left unsaid from your lips.

I’ve never felt good with Mattie.

Joel swallows thickly, voice low when he finally speaks. “So you’re tellin’ me… he’s never…”

You don’t answer. Not with words, anyway. Just offering him a slow shake of your head, eyes still fixed on his thumb rubbing you rhythmically.

His jaw clenched, hard. A muscle jumping as he sucked in a breath through his nose. “Christ.”

“Thas’ pathetic.”

You chewed at the inside of your lips, his surprise embarrassed you. “Guess I thought that was normal.”

“Ain’t normal,” Joel shoots back, voice still rough with disbelief.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Men who took what they wanted. Without even trying to make their partners feel good. Damn his ‘reputation’, he’d show you a fucking good time now if you wanted. But he holds back. You, even the idea of you didn’t belong to him.

“He ever even ask what you liked?”

You shook your head again. Joel leans in a fraction, as though the weight of holding himself upright became too much. “You deserve more than that.”

A beat passes.

“You deserve t’be touched like it means somethin’.”

Your heart thrummed against your chest at his words, and whatever wanted to come out, was stuck there, in your throat. Even with your dim surroundings, his expression seemed…pained. It was nothing you’d seen from him before, not nonchalant in the slightest.

He lets out a slow, steadied breath. Shuts his eyes briefly before wrenching his head away from looking—your wide-eyed curiosity that fucking killed him. He wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do what he did to other women, not to you. His hands finally found the strength to pull away from the warmth he’d merely borrowed.

“Would you.”

Joel’s figure stiffens, his thumb twitching where he held you. His eyes narrow briefly, as though he needed you to be clearer with whatever you mumbled out.

So you do. With your voice lifting, just audible enough for him to hear. “Would–…could you show me?”

Show me. What good feels like.

Joel’s tongue catches his lower lip, a deep exhale leaving his lips. You were asking, asking him to show you? The universe must’ve been conspiring against him, punishing him, possibly.

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” It was laughable how flustered he sounded, and you took pride in knowing that you’d rendered him exasperated. Though the inkling of doubt crept up that he was denying the possibility because he didn’t want you.

“No…I do.” Trying not to let the desperation in your voice creep out, you continue, “I trust you. And if there’s a possibility that I’d never experience it, I’d rather just…I can’t bear the thought of dying tomorrow not even having—”

Joel’s touch grows firmer around you, and you see him looking at you with a warm look. Shaking his head with the same easy smile that made your heart flutter. “Y’ain’t gonna die tomorrow, christ.” He thumbs his lower lip, glancing at your door and back at you.

“Need you t’be sure.” You don’t hesitate, taking a deep breath before looking at him assuredly. Nodding stiffly.

His knuckles wipes his nose instinctually, as if masking the smile your answer drew from him. With a grounding exhale, Joel’s palm wraps around your ankles, tugging you gently towards him, easing you out from the tight, wound up ball you’d forced yourself into.

“Relax.” He huffed out. Shifting closer to you, eyes tracking over you. Visibly in a much less tense position. “Look like you’re goin’ up for an execution.”

Your lips press into a thin line at his dig at your state. Could he blame you? The absurdity of it all felt like a dream. “Talk t’me.”

Joel's hands stretch over the span of your shin, back down to your ankles. The gesture eased you, his rougher, bigger palms sending chills up your shoulders. “Tell me what you need. What he didn’t give.”

There was a certainty in his tone that just had you feeling less embarrassed about telling you what was on your mind. Like he wouldn’t judge you regardless of what you asked of him. “I…well. Mattie never really cared to learn what felt good for me. I can’t just get off with, normal sex.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed at that. “An’ normal sex bein’...”

“Penetrative.” You clear your throat. “I can’t get off with just penetration.”

“Hon.” He begins, sighing to himself deeply. It was truly a fucking wonder that you put up with you ex for as long as you had. “Sex can be whatever you wan’ it to be. An’ it’s somethin’ you figure out, together. What makes you tick, what makes you come. Ain’t no thing as normal sex.”

You take a deep and sharp inhale. Joel didn’t seem to understand the sirens that blared in your head whenever he spoke, much less this. Offering him a weak shrug, your palms rest on the bed, “well…whatever it is. I just never…finished with him.”

Joel hums in thought. “He ever go down on you?”

Your head snaps up to look at Joel, blinking rapidly. “No!”

“No.” Coughing a little at the intensity you said that in, you rap your fist against your chest. “Definitely not. I couldn’t even trust that asshole with his dick in me, you think I'm gonna let his face anywhere near it?”

He laughs at that, “ain’t that the truth.” Giving what he says a few more seconds to ease you into what he was going to offer, he lowers his head, making sure your gaze met his.

“You said you trusted me?”

“...Mm.”

“So you’ll tell me, if you don’t fancy anythin’ I do?”

You nod and Joel takes it as his confirmation. He moves slowly, so as to not startle you. A rough palm coming up to slide over your knees, his fingers trails over to the apex of your thighs—touches featherlight. He pauses to look at you—at your hesitant expression. Your breath hitches at the way his thumb swipes around the waistband of your bottoms, but not signal enough for him to stop.

Easing you out of the fabric, he tugs it off your feet. His head dips to replace his touches with a tentative kiss on the jewellery by your ankle. And he leans forward, each kiss trailing up, closer, and higher up. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. Unsure on what you should be doing in this scenario. Your heart thuds louder and unbearable, eyes fixed on the curly locks at the back of his head.

“Wait.”

Joel stills instantaneously. Moving just enough to give you space. “I’d feel…better if you weren’t fully…” You gesture vaguely at him, and he gets it. You swore you could see relief in his eyes then. With a fluid motion, he peels his shirt off. The look Joel gives you then was nothing short of admiration almost.

“Good girl.”

You brain short circuits right then, and you realise. Oh. You told him what you wanted. And he praised you for it. Dragging two palms down your face, you deeply exhale. You’d nearly up and forgotten the effect your voice had on you. Peeking through your fingers, you see the same body you’d caught glimpses of months ago, and now, it was all for you.

Except this time, your arousal hadn’t gone unnoticed. Joel gently nudges your thighs apart, massaging over the softness. Then, he says your name, in a questioning tone that grabs your attention, you notice his gaze fixated on something.

“Your ex was a fuckin’ loser.”

Joel’s thumb skims the blooming wetness on your panties, and you gasp. The fabric dampening frighteningly easy, the stickiness bubbling through. The words die in your throat, it catches you by surprise when you’d actually realised how turned on you were now. Your pussy fluttering at his brief touch.

He goes in, lowering himself. You let out a sharp breath at the warmth of his breath against the sensitive skin, fisting the fabric beneath you. Eyeing the flex and ripples of his muscles on his back. You let out a low groan when places a kiss over your dampened panties. You squirm, and he holds you firm by your thigh.

You’re acutely aware of the skittish and soft gasps you were making, it doesn’t seem to faze Joel. He pushes the gusset of your panties aside, strings of your wetness following the fabric. He goes in, tongue flat against your labia, savouring the wetness you offered.

Whining a little at the intrusion, Joel laps around your warm, sticky folds. Tongue flicking over the most sensitive part of you. “Sh–shit. Shit.” You gasp out at the foreign sensation. “Good?”

“M-mhm.” He looks up to see your flushed expression, and he fucking smirks. Looping a finger around the fabric of your panties, he guides you to slip out of them, leaving them dangling by your ankles. He leans back down, going headfirst to suckle on your clit. The noises you reward him with has him grinding lazily onto your bed. Easing his hard-on.

Humming against your pussy, Joel licks upward, nudging his finger into your walls. You whined out a little louder at that, cunt practically sucking his finger deeper in. Your head tips back, hips lifted off the bed at the pace he sets, alternating between curling his finger deep into your pussy, and sucking your clit. The thrums from the bass against your door has your nerves especially frayed. Anyone could’ve been walking. Could’ve been hearing.

“G–od..”

Joel doesn’t stop, doesn’t get tired. He was willing to die between your thighs a happy fucking man if he had to. Nudging the curve of his nose against your puffy pussy, his tongue dips in and out of your walls. “Pretty, pretty girl. Doin’ so good f’me.” Your eyes fluttered shut at his words, shoulders rolled slightly at the reverberation of his words against your pussy. Instinctively, you clench around his finger.

And Joel realises. You liked it.

You liked it when he spoke to you like that. His tongue flicks against your clit with the tip of his tongue, sucking deep and slow. He feels your thighs twitch and he smiles against you. When he finally lifts his head to look at you. Your cheeks were rested limp around on your shoulder. Sweaty strands of your hair stuck against your neck. Panting heavily.

He wipes your slick off his jaw, glistening, with the back of his wrist. He rests his clean hand at the back of your neck, tugging you down to meet his lips. You taste yourself in his mouth, and moan against him in surprise. His tongue slips into your mouth at the opportunity, twirling around yours as he kisses you tenderly. You feel him hike your hips closer to him.

Scooting closer, he sighs against your cheeks. His bigger hands wrap around your wrist, guiding you to feel the hard, throbbing bulge against his sweats. You let out a small whimper as he trails kisses up your jaw. “Don’t know what the hell you’re doin’ t’me.” His face nuzzles against you, biting your earlobe, tongue dipping into the shell.

With shaky hands, your palm lightly scrapes over his bare shoulder. Fingertips barely daring to touch him. His hands rub against your inner thighs, with a thumb and forefinger, he gathers the slick to slip two thick fingers into you. “Oh, oh..” Hissing at the intrusion, your hips jolt, inching for him to curl deeper into you. The sound of his fingers slapping into your pussy fills the room with an obscene, wet schliick. “Y’hear that?” He hums against your ears. “Such a wet fuckin’ pussy.”

Your shoulders tense, squirming at the sound of his voice so damn close into your ears. Your palms curl around his shoulder blades. “D…on’t…”

“Don’t what?” You whine slightly, at how his lips chase your jaw no matter how you attempt to escape. Gripping around his wrist, your thighs squeeze around his arm and you practically hump, grind against the movement of his fingers.

“...stop. Don’t stop.”

He lets a low rumble of laughter against your cheek. “I know, baby. Like it, don't ya? When I tell you jus’ how this pretty pussy’s doin’ such a good job?” Your thighs quiver at that, toes curling against the sheets. “Clenchin’ me so damn tight just with my fingers, wonder how you’re gonna take my cock.” That seems to tip you over the edge. You’d never been some cock-hungry nympho, yet, just the idea of being stuffed, fucked silly with whatever monster he had hiding in those sweats grew too much.

“Joel, oh, I’m close—fuck. I’msofuckingclose.” Joel groans at the way your cunt throbbed in pulses around his fingers, and he doesn’t change a damn thing. He lets you guide his arm the way you wanted. With the last swipe of his thumb against your clit, your hips stutter in jolts. Faint, dizzying flashes of white and amber as you come down from your high.

Joel grabs around your jaw, muffling your soft exhales with his lips. Kissing you lazily, smearing your soaked, overstimulated cunt gently until you grab around his wrist with both hands, thighs nuzzled and trapping him between them to stop him. You looked at him with a tired gaze when he pulled away from your lips and you noticed he was still hard, but he catches you before you even try to touch him.

“...Don’t worry bout’ it.”

He sees the creases forming between your brows and soothes it with a soft kiss to your forehead. It’s automatic, tender in that way he knows wouldn't have you questioning him. But he doesn’t meet your eyes. He knows what’s flickering behind them. So he offers you a half-truth at best. One he can say without unraveling.

“Didn’t do this for me, sweetheart.”

Another kiss presses against the apple of your cheek and he shifts, reaching for the shirt abandoned at the edge of your bed.

“Stay put. I’ll grab somethin’ to clean you up.”

You nod, but it’s muscle memory, watching the space where he’d been, which had been warm a couple seconds ago, already cooling. His words settle uncomfortably in your chest.

But you don’t question it. Not for now, at least.

#had to take a breather i was IMMERSED #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou joel #tlou hbo #joel miller smut

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quirekey · 5 months ago

Text

TFP autobots as Cats/kittens

[ headcanons ] + [ Lmao i had fun ]

[ includes: Optimus, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Arcee, Ratchet, Smokescreen and Wheeljack ]

—•—•—

Optimus Prime:

Optimus would be a pretty large kitten. A vibrant blue, red and white coat with larger and tall ears. Pretty big and seemingly cute-serious eyes. Medium amount of fluff!

- Optimus probably meows a hella lot, yapping about some random stuff. He definitely sits on your lap and meows at you all day with those big ol’ eyes. You may be busy but then he spawns and just starts rambling about some sort of leadership stuff.

- He isn’t too affectionate when you're busy, but the second you start relaxing then he will just loaf on you. Your leg, chest or any available and empty spot on your body, it’s his favourite spot!

- He’s a very pristine and clean little boy, always licking to keep himself looking fancy schmancy! He will paw at you if you don’t clean yourself, pawing and leading you to the bathroom, it’s fair if you are offended.

- Honestly very agile and fast for a larger cat, but only running around outside. He doesn’t wanna make a mess. He loves to run around alongside you if you do exercises like jogging.

- He does get along with others, being a charming little cat that talks a lot definitely would charm any human but not too many cats, silly boy. He would want to get along with every cat and kitten.

—•—•—

Bumblebee:

Bumblebee is a furry little fella with folded ears. A yellow and black striped coat that is full of fluff! Puffy and long tail and black lil’ paws that are grippy and adorable. Smaller than the average cat also.

- He definitely chats a hella lot, no matter where and no matter what. You will hear him talking to your half-sleeping body, pawing at your face as he mewed at you.

- He may as well be a dog due to how attached and clingy they are compared to other cats. Bumblebee always is just clinging onto you with his claws on your pants, meowing until you stop and pet him, and he’s very persistent when he does it too.

- Has a habit of being clumsy. He would try to jump onto a counter and slam his face into it instead, crying after. He would slip off tables and accidently break glasses.

- He’s just a bit skittish, just a bit. He will see anything and either run at it with full force or jump and run off, it’s just a 50/50. He’s very random when it comes to being either skittish or aggressive.

- Loaf all day, no matter what. Loaf in cup, loaf on bed, loaf on couch! He would mostly wanna loaf on your lap, loud purrer too. He likes to just turn into a loaf in the most random spots too, it’s honestly strangely cute.

—•—•—

Ratchet:

Ratchet is a fuzzy cat, not a fluffy one. He doesn’t like the big coat type of look and prefers a simple one. Little ears that are always down like he’s grumpy 24/7. Medium sized body and tail. Red and white coat.

- Always is away watching some sort of interaction or thing. He is loafing at the window seal, watching birds. He’s sitting on the counter, watching you clean the dishes or just watching the trees move in the wind. He does get into things very easily.

- He isn’t too playful and is pretty sleepy. He’s an old cat that isn’t too active so he’s just laying around. He is just curled up in a ball in his bed all day and never will play with a toy.

- He will demand attention if he wants it and demand you to go away if he doesn’t. He sometimes gives mixed messages but you just pet him anyways because he’s cute.

- He hisses a hella lot, a little feisty boy. If you do anything that he doesn’t like, hissing. If you pet him too much, hissing. If you pet him too little, hissing.

- Ratchet seems like the type of kitty to not care too much about pats until you start actually petting him. He will show that he doesn't want any pets but once you start petting him then it’s game-over.

—•—•—

Bulkhead:

Bulkhead is a large and bulky looking cat. Fuzzy and furry. He’s a round fella with a round, mini tail. He has smaller feet and small ears that twitch a lot. Chonky kiki with a dark green coat.

- Absolutely grateful!! Give him any toy and he is forever grateful, playing with it every single day. Get him cat food and he will meow at you so much with a cute, big-eyed expression.

- Bulkhead is very affectionate. He’s always head-butting you for pats, pawing at you when you're just sitting around and nuzzling onto you whenever he wants. He always wanted to sit on your shoulder but he’s too bulky to :(.

- He loves to squish himself into things. He’d try his best to squish into a mug a lot, happy and unaware. He absolutely loves boxes that perfectly fit him and is like liquid when you hold him.

- He’s very very aggressive and messy. He may just start running around and dropping your items onto the floor, having fun while being messy. You sometimes call him a little wrecking ball but also yell at him a lot.

- He’s a little troublemaker, loving to make a mess to just tease you for fun. He will only not scratch up the couch and make a mess if you yell at him a lot, because he’s afraid of you when you're mad.

—•—•—

Arcee:

Arcee is a tiny kitten. She has light pink and tall ears that are filled with white fur. She has a half fuzzy and half fluffy coat that is coloured blue. She has big eyes that always look like she’s concentrating, diluted quite often.

- Arcee enjoys hiding in little and dark places. You’ll find her oftenly sneaking around and snuggling into smaller places. Under the draws or maybe just in a pile of clothes. She enjoys the small and dark places.

- Arcee loves being a squishy girl. When you pat her, she wants you to squish her and hug her in your hands, meowing for squishy hugs.

- She loves being a shoulder buddy. What I mean is that she wants to sit on your shoulder and adventure with you, everywhere! Observing what you see and being your little partner.

- She’s a fighter, she’s definitely a fighter. She will attack you and hiss and scratch if you yell at her or just make a sudden move that scares her. She always is on guard and will hiss at anything that somewhat frightens her. She may see someone that's playfully attacking you and start scratching them, though she’s a tiny little kitten.

- She actually doesn’t load too often, it’s a pretty rare occurrence. She’s normally just sitting down or curled in a ball, she just dislikes the loaf. There is only one place she’ll loaf at and that’s in your lap.

—•—•—

Smokescreen:

Smokescreen is a pretty medium sized cat, probably just the average one. He has more fuzz than fluff and a pretty long tail. He has pointy ears that point straight up. He has a pretty clean red, blue and white coating.

- Smokescreen is one childish kitten. He’ll do a lot of dumb stuff that even a dumb cat wouldn’t do. He would maybe attack a lamp because he looked at the bright part of it or just attack a foggy reflection of himself. Yes, he ran into glass before.

- He literally copies everything you do. Jumping on a trampoline? He will join you like a little goof. Talking way too much to him? He’ll do it back, meowing like crazy. He’ll do anything you do because he admires you and sees you as his parental figure, because you are.

- The boy sometimes gets too eager or rowdy and tries to parkour a lot. He would jump onto a counter and try to jump onto the fridge, failing miserably when he actually tries. He doesn’t cry but is definitely upset.

- Smokescreen is 24/7 curious about what you're doing. He will knead and paw at you when he sees you, waiting for you to tell him what you're doing. He’ll jump onto you and meow at you relentlessly until you get him involved too.

- LOVES chin scratches. His favourite part when you give him affection is when you itch his little chin. He will purr loudly when you do this, wanting to make it as obvious as possible to show you that he enjoys the scratches.

—•—•—

Wheeljack:

Wheeljack is one tall kitten. He has big ears that are very twitchy and animated. He’s pretty fluffy and has an even fluffier coat around his neck. He has a white coat with red and green streaks.

- Wheeljack is a rambunctious kitten. Always making a mess no matter what you do. He will shove glasses off, scratch up your couch and kill all of your plants. He does it for fun and is very active.

- Wheeljack loves being independent. He will always want to do things himself and lovingly fail. Sometimes you may try to grab something off the shelf for him but he just jumps up to the shelf and knocks it off himself. Usually it’s a toy so it won’t break (unless you get unlucky and he starts going into that little rampage of his again.)

- He is very aggressive when you start loving him. If you pat him too much, he will start biting and kicking you aggressively but not to the point where you’ll draw blood. He just likes to fight you playfully and it does sting but it’s adorable!

- The boy is a massive rebel when coming to house-rules. You yell at him and he will not listen at all. You may literally tell him the same thing over and over but he will pretend that you aren’t even there and just walk off.

- Surprisingly he’s really quiet and chill once he burns out of his rebellious moment, just cuddling with you and barely meowing at all. Sure he may just paw at your face but not often at all. He does purr really quietly.

#transformers #transformers prime #arcee #tfp arcee #tfp #tfp bulkhead #bulkhead #wheeljack #tfp wheeljack #smokescreen #tfp smokescreen #bumblebee #tfp bumblebee #optimus prime #tfp optimus prime #ratchet #tfp ratchet #headcanons

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dragonridernoobie · 8 months ago

Note

How does tfp Team Prime react to meeting an emotionally-detached femme who is heavily scarred and became ruthless due to circumstances. She's trying to improve for the team and remains quiet as a response to the horrors she's seen. (Horrors that, let's say are the reason she's walked alone until now)

However, she rediscovers her old love for art and begins gifting them the paintings she's made of them, smiling a little when they're accepted. The last one presented to all of them is called the 'Family portrait', which is of the entire team, including the humans.

Hmmm, intresting....I tried my best, and tha k you for being patient!!!!

TFP Autobots X Emotionally Didatched Reader

When the autobot team met (Y/N), it was when an escape pod crash landed on earth. They where excited since another autobot was alive.

When they met (Y/N) they immediately could tell (Y/N) was distant. They acted like UltraMagnus just more...distance.

When they welcomed (Y/N) to the base, (Y/N) was quick to help train the team like UltraMagnus. They whernt as stricked but still called out the team if they messed up on moved or attacks.

The team had mixed feelings about them, but one thing they all can agree with. Why was (Y/N) so distant, emotionless, and strict.

They decided to find out in each of their own own ways. Each team member agreed to try and get information out of (Y/N).

Bulkhead

Bulkhead tried first.

With miko and him, they tried to do it with music.

They took (Y/N) them on a mission and listened to heavey metal with them.

Even if (Y/N) kept reminding them to focus.

When it got to the end of the mission, they tried to ask (Y/N) straight forward

But (Y/N) just told them to focus on themselves.

Bumblebee

Bumblebee and Ralph was next.

They tried to do it with video games.

They somehow convinced (Y/N) to play a few games with them.

When they started to play, they would watch their reaction on certain games to see if there where some signs.

None.

Arcee

Arcee and jack where next as well.

They decided to try and get information out of (Y/N) by a nice relaxing car drive.

They told (Y/N) that they needed to go scouting and they wanted them to come.

While they drove around, Arcee and Jack asked a few questions here and there.

(Y/N) never gave them a proper response.

Ratchet

He dident ask (Y/N) straight out but he was more blunt then the others.

He asked (Y/N) if they got any injuries in the past, if they had a family, etc.

(Y/N) never responded but just let ratchet do a check up on them.

Once done, (Y/N) says bluntly

"Focus on you're work doctor."

Optimus

For optimus, he never asked (Y/N)

Since he knew everyone has their own story

He only asked when after a mission, (Y/N) snapped and started to yell at the team

After (Y/N) walked away, he would ask what has happened and (Y/N) explained.

They once where in a happy family. They had a partner, sparklings, a home. That was intel the war started.

They lost everything. They watched their sparklings be killed infront of them when decpticons attacked their home.

They served in the autobot army with their partner intel he was killed.

They have been alone for a long time and they learned that showing emotions will get you attached to people who could die in the next hour.

So they chose to stay emotionless. They carr for the team, the team almost feels like a family, that why they need to be ready for anything.

Optimus understood and explained that he agreed, but they could not be so hard on them. They deserve to be happy, and that they are trying. Each of them are fighting for their own things.

He asked (Y/N) to show a bit of emotion since a team must work together, and no good communication is a way to break a team.

(Y/N) agrees to do so. So, when they see the team again, they try to show emotions by smiling awkwardly.

Ya, it scared the team.

They are trying, though.

#headcanon #x reader #transformers tfp #tfp optimus prime #optimus x reader #tfp ratchet #tfp optimus #tfp arcee #tfp #bumblebee tfp #tfp bumblebee #tfp bulkhead #tfp bulkhead x reader #tfp Bumblebee x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #ratchet x reader #tfp arcee x reader #arcee x reader

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moonlight-prose · 1 month ago

Note

the build a fic prompt list is so fun! for eddie:

dialogue: "i say this with all the love in my heart, but you look like shit."

emotion: fondness

place: at work, far later than you should be

petals on the moon

a/n: the new york boyfriend is back! honestly i can't think of anyone better to have adventures in new york with. i tried to stick with it being singularly at the workplace, but he's a menace and it's incredibly self indulgent. besides the song petals on the moon is the biggest inspiration. so i stuck with that vibe. i hope you enjoy it babes!

summary: the night hours at work were hours of the steady clack of his keyboard, the scent of burnt coffee from lunch, and yellowed lamps that needed an upgrade. you were the ghost that haunted halls of chipped paint and to do lists scrawled on extra pieces of paper. it might just take a miracle to bring you back to life, but thankfully eddie alden had a bit of magic on his side.

word count: 3.5k+

pairing: eddie alden x reader

warnings: fluff, romance, yearning + pining, eddie alden has a massive crush and is a dork about it, late night adventures, early 2000s romcom vibes, alcohol consumption, smoking, deep philosophical thoughts, smattering of angst.

Monotonous. Boring. Hours of wasted time, minutes of paperwork that dragged, seconds of stale air and ballpoint pens that always seemed to run out of ink.

Work was the last place you wanted to spend your free time—an endless loop of empty hallways you paced and rooms you haunted. Somehow at the end of each day you agreed to complete others tasks without hesitation. Others would claim that made you an idiot, you liked to say it made you the first in line for a promotion.

Really you did this to yourself. Cut off from the city beyond these cracked walls. Away from the possibility of adventures, from groups of strangers that could become your friends and allies. Isolation shouldn’t have crept up behind you, yet within moments you were trapped in its trap. Strung along webs of duties and responsibilities not of your own making.

Shuffling the stack of papers off your desk, you tried to lose yourself in the structure. This was your dream position, in a city you longed to remain in. A path you built with intent written in each brick.

So why were you so unhappy?

A notebook hit the floor with a bang, the noise filling the empty space of your office with ease. You flinched, reaching for the black moleskin with a sigh. The clock ticked above you, mocking the time you spent glued to a desk chair that held barely any support to keep you upright. Although you knew that in two hours time you would once again find yourself asleep against scratched wood and crinkled papers.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a ghost.”

Surprise once etched your features at the sight of the office playboy staying late, but as the months went by you saw him for what he was. A man who valued his job more than anything else. He worked twice as hard for the same fucking pay. And a part of you wanted to hate him for it…if you weren’t exactly the same way.

“I am,” you said, balancing the journal atop an already precarious stack. “I died three years ago and apparently my unfinished business is still fucking paperwork.”

His laugh flipped a switch at the back of your mind, flooding the dormant body you’d grown used to with light. He woke you up like a shot of perfectly brewed espresso.

“Seems you got the shitty end of the deal in purgatory.”

“And yet here you are visiting me,” you retorted, biting back a smile large enough to ache. “So what kind of shitty deal did they offer you?”

Arms with a trail of veins you tried to ignore found a spot of clean space on your desk to rest on—his long body folding to collapse in your extra chair. “I was stupid enough to help create a new prime time segment.”

“Ah. Your first mistake was taking on more work. Even I could have told you that.”

He grinned, slightly overgrown hair curling towards his forehead. “Next time I’ll ask you. That is…if you’re still alive.”

“You know something I don’t Alden?”

“That’s classified.”

“Dick,” you scoffed.

“There is something I can say. Which I say this with all the love in my heart, but you look like shit."

Weeks spent alone in the office together gave you enough time to grow accustomed to his humor. The snide remarks and quips that held a reverence when said in the rasp of his voice. He shouted half the day, corralling people, fixing mistakes, but at night the glow of his brown eyes were lit with fondness. The low light of your office shadowed his face, drawing lines that weren’t there in his boyish charm. But you supposed that was the trick.

He gave the office—the world—what they yearned to see. A man who wrote off attachment. Alone in a world that seemed determined to breed solitude in beings who craved kinship.

Your brow raised, teeth finding a space on your cheek to mar. “Is this you being kind?”

The sigh lingered in the air—thick with worry and stress and the cynical words of a man who could barely fathom their taste. “This is me making you an offer.”

“Hopefully better than the crap they tried to sell me in purgatory.”

He laughed; your heart skipped. “Do you want to get outta here?”

“And go where?” you exclaimed. “This paperwork isn’t doing itself Alden.”

His groan rumbled from the bottom of his chest, his form hunched and brows knit. “Fuck the paperwork. We do enough for this shit hole anyways. They won’t care if we take one night off.” The desk shook as he surged to his feet, hand stretched—-eyes glimmering with something akin to hope. “Come with me.”

“Eddie I can’t just leave.”

“Come. With. Me.”

The paper would remain there haphazardly organized on a desk that shrunk by the day. What little space you had left vanished the longer you sat there hunched over meaningless periods and commas stuck in the wrong spot. Day by day you grew transparent to the eyes of your coworkers. A myth that roamed the halls, half a person in the eyes of those who got the chance to live.

What harm would there be in taking a night off?

“If I do this…”

“You won’t regret it,” he pressed. “I promise.”

His hand was warm, calloused beneath a thumb and forefinger that held pens far too tight and gripped equipment with the severity of a job that called for too much. A scar lined the side of his palm. Jagged and lined with a bump you could feel beneath your fingertips.

Scattered along every portion of his body existed pieces of his history. You longed to ask him about each mark. Each wound that once healed on the youthful body of a boy that still lingered underneath the outline of the man you knew.

In the harsh lights of an empty office that wouldn’t see life until dawn, you caught glimpses of that young twenty year old. The teenager who ran through his neighborhood with friends. The college kid dancing at frat parties he helped set up out of the kindness of his own heart (and free beer).

Eddie dragged you behind him with a boisterous laugh you could hear echo down empty hallways and vacant offices of your colleagues. “Are we going to roam the city?”

“Better,” he tossed over his shoulder. “You have yet to see the best view in the city.”

“I’ve been to the Empire State Building Eddie.”

He scoffed. “That’s a tourist spot.”

“And it was beautiful.”

“Sure if you’re a tourist.”

“I was a tourist-”

Whirling around you nearly slammed into his chest, his lips curled tight enough to crinkle the eyes that glowed even in the dim fluorescents of a stairwell. “That explains your lack of adventure.”

“Fuck you Alden.”

His teeth—that were far too straight and much too white—dug into his bottom lip, his cheek rounding. “I mean…we’ve got time.”

The swing of your fist thumped lazy and muted against his arm as he snorted laughed. His cheeks turned red, your body warmed beneath his gaze, and the definition of tonight changed thirty times in your head. Whether this was born out of friendship or tension you couldn’t discern, you enjoyed it nonetheless. Maybe you didn’t need to define this.

Maybe this would remain a silent memory shared between two lone souls both in need of connection.

“So what’s this supposed best view?” you asked, pushing the topic beyond what it would inevitably land on.

“You ever been to the roof?”

“The roof?” Your face dropped, humor dwindling as he unlatched the metal door you avoided on the daily. “That’s where we’re going on our grand adventure?”

He sighed, kicking it open with his boot. “Would you trust me?”

“You’re asking a lot of me tonight Alden. I might have to start taking note of all this trust.”

The groan you were rewarded with felt like victory in your eyes. “Just shut up and follow me.”

Following the command with ease, you clambered the last few stairs that entered to a dingy roof you’d only seen once before. During the daytime smog coated the sky, the sun glowed harsh and bruising along your long sleeved button down, and the scent of stale cigarettes had your nose scrunching before you could dart back inside.

At night the lights of New York flared to life with the brilliance of a New Years Eve display. Ordinary people living ordinary lives. Yet from a distance they resembled fireflies in the country—filling a darkened sky with hope and endless dreams you could practically hear shouted in the air. The scent of smoke dimmed with the view of humanity on display with all its wonders.

“Seven wonders forgot to include this,” he said with a smile, awe spilling past a grin you filed in the back of your mind.

“Is that…”

“You’re so called best view the Empire State?”

The towering building—the north star of the city—glowed with the light of all you came to this place for. “Holy shit. This is…incredible.”

“One thing about being at the Empire State is that you don’t get to see it in the view. That’s the whole point. Getting to see that beauty in the night sky.” He shuffled back, tugging something free from within a metal box that you knew belonged to the building’s super. “I swiped some wine from someone’s office earlier.”

“Eddie you can’t take shit-”

“Relax dove,” he cut in. “You’ll still make it to heaven.”

“I’m not religious.”

His head cocked to the right and for a moment you couldn’t rid yourself of the image of a puppy just learning to view their own reflection. “Well guess you learn somethin’ new everyday. Wine?”

There were no cups, no fancy acts of a rooftop meal that might inherently be viewed as romance, but you’d never been one for silly displays. He pulled the cork out with a shitty wine opener—using his teeth halfway through with a grunt of frustration—and passed you the bottle with a smile. Two souls lost to the depths of a late night job. To dedications that asked for far too much from people who deserved more than they were ever given.

You weren’t friends. You weren’t strangers.

But something tied the both of you together, looping around beating hearts and knotting in between rib-cages.

“I hate to say it. But you’re right Eddie.”

His head whipped to the side, lips pulling up high enough to blind you with his spectacular Eddie Alden smile. No wonder women fell so hard for his tricks. “Oh…say it again. Please.”

“Sorry. That’s a one time only deal,” you laughed, gulping down enough wine to burn the back of your throat. It filled your stomach with warmth, countering the chill that washed across bare arms and fresh faces.

“Mind if I smoke?” he asked, a cigarette already finding a home between his lips—his body leaning against the brick edging.

“Your territory. By all means.”

The snort echoed in your chest, ricocheting with intent. “My territory huh dove?”

“I figure you bring everyone you romance up here.”

“Is that what we’re doing here?” His brow quirked, lips still curled in that infuriating crooked shape of glee you could practically see a mile away. “Am I romancing you?”

You sipped at the bottle—avoidance tainting the moment. In the hopes that if you let him linger on the question a bit more he’d realize the absurd nature of his words. You weren’t his person. The other half of what seemed to be an overly filled soul. You were you and he was himself and there was no balance in that. No equilibrium within the chaos that was your lives.

Tonight was always bound to happen. Two people trapped with nowhere to go.

So where else was there to go but up?

You found the question leaving your mouth before it filtered through your mind. “Are you from here?”

“No,” he replied quickly. “Grew up in a smaller area than this.”

“Midwest?”

“East coast.”

“Learn something new every day,” you hummed.

Wine flowed with ease as you settled atop a stack of heavy boxes left out as storage. The city a backdrop you were already used to—drinking it down with each sip of that red liquid you felt wash down your throat.

Eddie leaned back with a trail of smoke curling around his head, eyes drooped with the buzz of a night spent in good company. “What about you? Why’d you come to New York?”

With a shrug, you took a gulp that nearly choked you—the burn of cool alcohol sliding down your throat. “Same reason most people come here. I had a dream to be working in films and L.A. felt too pretentious.”

“And this city isn’t?” The deadpan echo of his tone wasn’t lost on you even through the haze of alcohol.

“This city is whole. Do you know what I mean? It’s got different blocks that vary wildly in differences, but that’s the fun of it. You don’t know what’s coming, even if you’ve prepared for it.”

“The city of dreamers,” he mumbled, too fixated on the skyline to see how you trailed your gaze along his face. The curve of his jaw that lights played off, the curl of his lips wrapped around the butt of his half smoked cigarette.

You weren’t sure how it happened. Where two strangers suddenly found themselves in the territory of friendship, but half a bottle of wine and three cigarettes later you held loose tongues willing to spill just about anything. He handed over the cigarette without question, hazel eyes drinking in the way you sucked in the smoke with relief. As if you’d been waiting all day for someone to find this missing piece you didn’t know could exist.

“Alright I’ll go.” The cigarette tasted like him, the curve of his mouth and tip of his tongue. “What makes you cry? And just answer off the top of your head.”

He huffed. “Billy Joel’s song Piano Man.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m really not. It’s the first song I heard after I got the news I’d get to work here. Heard it in a bar where I grew up and even though the actual piano man was fucked up on scotch. He played it perfectly.”

“I guess that’s the power of Billy Joel.”

Eddie laughed, swallowing enough wine to spill past his lips, staining his throat with a red line you tracked breathlessly. “Maybe he possessed the guy.”

“Meh. I wouldn’t put it past Billy.”

“Yeah? You know somethin’ I don’t dove?”

“Wouldn’t you love to know Alden.”

Another puff and he stole it back, his fingers dragging along your chapped lips with a grin. “I guess it’s my turn. Alright…hm…if you could choose falling in love and you were guaranteed a lifetime of joy or the perfect career. Which would you go with?”

The answer surged to the forefront of your mind long before he finished the question. You knew what life had in store for you—a career, success beyond your wildest imagination. But the words stuck to the back of your throat. Sliding like acid along the soft tissue of your esophagus. You knew what you wanted. What you deserved. Yet dreams always found a way of making themselves known; a truth not even you were prepared for.

So it jarred you when you found yourself whispering love.

His eyebrows raised, cigarette poised along parted lips as if he couldn’t believe you would admit something like that. An unwritten rule of all New Yorkers who moved for their career. That allowing something else to interfere was a sin. The highest treason of dreamers who clawed their way to the top.

Suddenly meeting his eyes stirred something unknown in your stomach. A roiling storm that thundered in the base of your heart.

“I don’t know why,” you muttered.

“I do.”

Scoffing, you yanked a new cigarette from his pack and lit it with a shaky click. “Oh do enlighten me Eddie.”

“You want to be happy. And a career might satisfy that…competitive streak in your body, but it wouldn’t give you what you really want.” A shaky breath dragged your gaze back to the man who dug far too deep into your mind, yanking the thread of hopes and dreams out before you could beg him to stop. “You want what everyone hopes to have dove. A pathetic passionate love that has the chance to rip you a part.”

“Speaking from experience?”

He huffed, lips twisted into a wry grin. “At one point I would have thought so, but now… Listen you’re not the first to want love. You won’t be the last. Ain’t that what this whole thing is about?”

“What?”

“This.” He gestured to the city, the flickering lights that sparked with life. “Humanity wouldn’t have gotten this far if not for love.”

You wanted to kiss him. It wasn’t an entirely new revelation, nor a thought you never had before. You supposed everyone in the office thought about kissing Eddie Alden at some point, but few got the chance to grab his attention. But there he sat a few inches away, smoking lazily as if he hadn’t begun to rip you open with an unwarranted autopsy. You didn’t just want to kiss him—somewhere in the back of your mind you understood this would happen.

How long could strangers go on in the permanence of the unknown?

“Why did you invite me up here tonight Eddie?”

He paused, exhaling enough smoke to cloud his face for a brief second. “I like you dove. You’re…different.”

“Aw shucks I bet you say that to all the girls in the office.”

“They aren’t much for conversations at midnight.”

“Is it really midnight?”

“It’s really midnight,” he said with such simplicity.

Silence perforated the space between you, giving you a chance to breathe before he was shifting his long body closer. His cigarette was stamped out on the metal box, leaving a mark alongside hundreds more exactly like it. A fluid movement of second nature you longed to see again. When he cupped your chin you didn’t say anything, opting to find his gaze in the darkness of the roof—a place permanently etched with the memory of strangers becoming something more.

“Is it cliche to say let’s pretend it’s New Years?”

You smiled, fingers finally tangling in the hair at the base of his skull. “I don’t mind the cliches.”

“Hm,” he grinned. “You learn something new every day.”

“Are you gonna talk or are you actually going to kiss me-”

The taste of wine and menthol became an addiction off his tongue, his lips just as chapped as yours. Eddie didn’t kiss with overwhelming lust. Though he was capable—this you were sure of—he kissed you with a sigh. The release of all he ached for now spreading up and into the back of your throat. His lips molded over yours, tongue sliding deep, and you grew dizzy with it.

His taste, his touch. They dragged you through a dance your own dreams couldn’t imagine.

Maybe this was it. That lingering ache you searched high and low for all throughout New York. Maybe all you had to do was finally give yourself over to the man you least expected to want you. Eddie moaned into your mouth, a wet broken sound you burned into the back of your mind. You’d replay it over and over on the way home.

Licking into his mouth, you pulled him close enough to nearly tip over the edge of the boxes. The clatter of the wine bottle falling forced you to break away for a gasp of cold air. Only for his mouth to find a home at the base of your jaw.

“Happy New Year,” you smiled, shivering at the heat of his breath along your cold skin.

“Got a few months to go dove,” he mumbled, nipping hard enough to draw a yelp.

“Well…then we’ve got time to practice.”

He laughed, hands latching onto your hips to keep you from falling; you never wanted to go back downstairs again. “Practice huh?”

“I hear it makes things perfect.”

“Insufferable,” he groaned. “If only I’d have known.”

“Then you would have picked someone else?”

The brush of his lips silenced killed the humor at the back of your throat—a needy ache spreading down to the tips of your fingers. “Wouldn’t dream of it baby.”

Noise echoed in the background as he drew you into another round, but everything shone just a bit brighter in the hue of his love. You didn’t need the career, the success. Shit you barely even needed to find joy in this job. You were always searching for the one thing Eddie couldn’t bring himself to admit—someone to confess your dreams to.

The words were there, unspoken yet loud enough to ring in your ears. The truth of finally getting what you wanted.

You needed a dreamer like him, just as he did.

#eddie alden x reader #eddie alden x you #eddie alden x y/n #eddie alden #my writing

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ck-17088 · 3 months ago

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Out of the many Optimus Primes, which one would TFO Optimus Prime get along with the most?

It's fun to imagine how different Transformers characters from different continuities would react if they ever met their alternate selves.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the newest Optimus: TFO Optimus. What would happen if he met ALL of his alternate versions? He would probably get along with all of them (honestly, they all would get along with each other, except for Shattered Glass Optimus). But which one would he get along with the most out of everyone?

Maybe I'm biased, but I think TFO Optimus would get along the most with TFP Optimus.

Their backstories are very similar. Both of them:

had an interest in the history of Cybertron (TFP Orion Pax was a data clerk/archivist who worked in the Iacon Hall of Records and became interested in Cybertronian history, while TFO Orion Pax also was interested in history and constantly broke into the Archives in Iacon to learn about it )

were once friends with a younger Megatron (TFO Orion Pax with D-16 and TFP Orion Pax with Megatronus)

worked with a younger Megatron against a corrupt Cybertronian government (TFP Orion Pax learned about the inequalities (implied to be the caste system in the show, explicitly said in the novels) present in society from Megatronus and together worked against the corrupt council while TFO Orion Pax worked with D-16, Elita-1, and Bee to bring Sentinel down)

met Alpha Trion ( Alpha Trion was TFP Orion Pax's mentor while his TFO counterpart revealed the truth to the miners and gave them time to escape)

deemed worthy by Primus and given the Matrix from him (they were also both in the Core of Cybertron at that moment)

While there are plenty of differences between them—TFP Orion was an archivist while TFO Orion was a miner, TFO Orion couldn't transform at first, and TFO Orion died before becoming a prime—I think they would have a better understanding of each other than the others.

I can definitely imagine the two talking with each other for hours about history and random facts since they both love history and knowledge. Maybe they would even compare the history of each other's universe.

There's a deleted scene where Orion rambles about the fauna on Cybertron's surface, which he learned from the Archives. I still consider the fact that he's very passionate about learning new things canon, so he'd definitely want to learn about an alternate Cybertron from TFP Optimus.

Extra: TFP Optimus would definitely be horrified to learn about the Quintessons, Sentinel's betrayal, how the miners were treated, and the fact that their T-cogs were removed. TFO Optimus would probably be thrilled that, in an alternate universe, he got to work in a place equivalent to the Archives. He'd definitely be horrified (and probably terrified) about the civil war in TFP Optimus's universe and how it started.

They could even talk about Alpha Trion. TFO Orion only spent less than a day with him, but TFP Orion spent a part of his life, his youth, with him. It'd be pretty cool for TFO Optimus to learn about an alternate Alpha Trion. Heck, the two could even talk about the 13 Primes. Maybe, they could also talk about the Matrix of Leadership and compare how the two got them.

Hypothetical conversation

TFO Optimus: D-16 shot me, and I fell into the Core of Cybertron, where Primus bestowed the Matrix of Leadership to me. How about you? How'd you get the Matrix?

TFP Optimus: During the war, Megatron poisoned the Core, so I journeyed there to try to reverse the damage. But I was too late. Primus gave me the Matrix to keep a part of him alive while he went into stasis, making our planet inhabitable.

(I'm going off of the War for Cybertron game and Exodus novel bc TFP was really vague lol)

Most importantly, both of them were once best friends with Megatron. They both had a messy fallout with their respective Megatrons, albeit for different reasons. Throughout the show, there are scenes that show that TFP Optimus felt sadness about how his best friend became his enemy. He also expressed hope that one day Megatron would make the right choice and stop the fighting by his own free will. TFO Optimus saw a future with both him and Megatron rebuilding Cybertron, so he definitely feels a mix of emotions- sadness, anger, regret- about his Megatron.

The two would talk about their respective Megatrons- most likely their friendships and how they fell apart.

I'd like to think that TFO Optimus would find comfort in talking to an older, wiser version of himself who lived through similar events to him. Maybe talking to someone with similar experiences would be enough to help him.

And TFP Optimus would feel comfort that he can help a younger (alternate) version of himself. For instance, he could tell TFO Optimus that his best friend isn't truly a lost cause. Heck, he could even tell him everything that happened in the show and the movie and reassure him that there's always hope for Megatron and even, everyone, regardless if they are an Autobot or Decepticon.

The idea of TFP Optimus and TFO Optimus meeting is very interesting since TFO's story is heavily inspired, no, taken directly from the Binder of Relevation, which also was the source material for TFP.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers one #tfo #tf one #tfo optimus #tfo optimus prime #tfo orion pax #tf one orion pax #transformers prime #tfp #transformers prime optimus prime #tfp optimus prime #tfp orion pax #ck rambles

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what-if-i-like-my-mechs-older · 2 months ago

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Megatron eventually freed him from the embrace when he was called by Soundwave to take care of other matters, but that didn't mean he was going to let Orion out of his sight.

"Grab those data files, after yesterday, I'm not letting you out of my sight, no telling which of my soldiers might try to abscond with you despite your battle prowess. Though I would certainly like to see it in person to be believed, after all if I believed everything Starsceam said , the Autobots would have already won."

"Can I come along to?"

Thundercracker asked , handing the files to Orion only to have Megatron step forward and snatch them out of his hands

"No, I know what you and your trine are like, once one of you plays with someone you all want to play with them, his body probably needs to rest."

Thundercracker couldn't argue with that, they were very much the trine that shared together.

"We can talk another time Tc."

Orion offered as he was pulled along.

As they walked the hallway, well he was tugged along like some pet on a leash, one that was not in the mood to he manhandled like this.

"Megatron, I can walk myself, I may be younger than you but I am no sparkling."

"And what reassurance do I have you won't just run away and hide on this ship?"

Megatron answered, holding his arm tighter.

"And who would hide me? They're your soldiers are they not?"

The Decepticon gave him a pointed look, the autobot was right, none of his soldiers would dare hide Orion from him, Starscream only would if it benefited him and he was currently in the brig...again.

Damn idiot literally had a cell designated to him with a few luxuries.

However just to be on the safe side he pushed him in front. He'd expected some submissiveness from Pax at having a Cannon that could clean blow his head from his shoulders pressing at the back of his helm

But he turned and looked up and down at it, looking less than impressed.

Megatron realised that his cannon was literally being compared to the other ones.

The Decepticon was right, Orion was comparing it, after all if he wasn't going to be polite why should he.

"Hmm , his was more stylish...also fuckwit...I don't know where we're going, you have to lead me there remember. "

Megatron stared , only taken aback for a few seconds before a laugh left him, it was a sharp violent sound that broke through the silence.

"Are you sure you don't have a little Decepticon in you, Prime?"

Orion, pushed his cannon down slowly and smiled

"No, but I've had three and none of you were little."

The both of them stared at each other, only for the data pads to drop to the floor as Orion pushed Megatron up against the wall and kissed him and Megaton wasn't saying no, his response was obviously welcoming it as they fought for dominance.

The Decepticon could feel the power in his force, every time he tried to move away from the wall Orion pushed him back , maybe submitting would be fun, not that he would be submissive as his own hands sought to find new places on the Autobots body he hadn't discovered before.

However their momentary loss of self control was brought to an end when they felt water spraying on them.

Soundwave had a spay bottle poised and ready to spritz Orion with again who currently had one of Megatron's legs around his lower back.

"Do I have to spray you with Ravages bad kitty bottle in the future, maybe I should fold you up and put you in my cassette player for a time out."

Orion didn't miss a beat and pressed his cheek against Megatron's chest with a shit eating grin.

"Oh you'd just love having me inside you, wouldn't you Sound-"

Soundwave spritzed the Salt water in his mouth

"Primus, will you stop that! Fine, I'll behave....for now."

First

#transformers animated #transformers g1 #optimus prime #megop #megatron g1 #optimus tfa #writing this for me #cross over #megatron #soundwave g1 #thundercracker g1 #i apologise for nothing

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feralwetcat · 1 month ago

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You’ve see prime defenders???? ?? !! whose your favorite one.

SORRY I DIDN'T ANSWER SOONER I WAS THINKNG FAR TOO MUCH ABOUT THSI🫶 I LOVE PD YEAH !!! as for my favorite?? Thats. Ouh. Oh thas a hard one. Uh. Main pcs wise probably Ashe, i think they're neat [insert goober here]

#grabby hands gimme urs #tell me your favorites🤲#also i find this funny cuz i mainly draw wiwi #i draw him alot ......#i wanna draw ashe more🙏#Ferals chatter🪿#Ask Feral🪿#jrwi #jrwi prime defenders

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in1-nutshell · 4 months ago

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Beany and boiler in rid please

Who's ready for Teen Beany?

Hope you enjoy!

Beany and Boiler in RiD

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian reader

RID

It had been some eventful years since Prime’s passing.

Cybertron had been rebuilt, and Beany had gone through a major growth spurt.

No more was he the tiny Predacon sparkling Boiler found on Earth.

Beany was now a teen, a bit smaller than Predaking was when they first met.

And boy did he love his new height.

Boiler tries to reach a cube from the top shelf. Beany reaches over them and grabs the cube. Boiler: “Thank—” Beany places the cube on an even higher shelf. Boiler: “…” Beany: “…” Boiler: “You have 3 nanoclicks ta give me tha cube or so help me Primus I will tell Bumblebee to cancel the hang out!” Beany: “You wouldn’t.” Boiler goes for their com. Boiler: “1—" Beany out of pure fear, chucks the cube at Boiler’s face making them fall back. Beany: “Boiler!” Beany tries to help the elderly bot up, but was not expecting them to judo flip him on to his back. Both backs on the floor. Beany and Boiler: “Ow…”

Boiler finally decided to retire and pursue new hobbies that they couldn’t have done during the war.

Though they were called to help with the new sparklings from time to time.

Beany was now training to become a police officer just like their pseudo brother, Bumblebee.

There had been a lot of arguments with the Academy about having a Predacon on the force, but thanks to a gathered rally of all former members of Team Prime, Beany was eventually accepted in.

He still faced certain bots who thought of him as an animal.

Boiler has their arms crossed with an angry expression on their face. Bee puts a comforting servo on their shoulder. Boiler: “… Its not fair Bee. He did nothin wrong to them. Yet here he is being treated like mindless animal! An animal!” They clentch their servos in anger. Bumblebee: “I know Boiler, but there is only so much we can do right now. Plus look on the bright side, Beans is rising the ranks faster than most cadets. Even Strongarm took a bit longer than him.” Boiler: “Strongarm? That tha cadet following you around?” Bee nods. Boiler hufs a bit and unclentches their servos. The pair look at Beany and Strongarm talking about something over a cube of energon. Boiler smiles at this. Boiler: “You can keep ‘im for a couple of days. I think he needs it.” Bumblebee nods and smiles at the older bot.

It was Beany’s first day on patrol with Bumblebee and Strongarm when Bee started ‘hearing’ Prime’s voice.

Beany thought that Bee needed more rest.

And maybe a call from Boiler to make sure things where okay.

The second the Predacon sees the yellow bot go into the spacebridge, he follows in after.

Beany wouldn’t admit it straight away, but he had missed Earth.

It was his first home, where he made his first memories with Boiler and the team.

Beany, Bumblebee and Strongarm watch Sideswipe speed down the trail. Beany gives Bee a mischievous smile. Bumblebee: “Beany…” This is a warning… that he is willing to ignore this one time. Beany: “I’ll get him Bee! Watch the skies Sideswipe!” Bumblebee: “Beany don’t—” Beany transforms into his predacon alt mode and shoots off into the sky. Bumblebee: “Great… I’m stuck on Earth with teenagers…” Strongarm: “Should we go now sir?” Bumblebee: “… Yes…”

Beany takes an immediate liking to Russel and Denny.

They kind of reminded him a bit of the other human kids.

He is the first to attack Grimlock and Underbite.

Does say that he was sorry to Grimlock when he officially joins the team.

Life is good.

A couple days later… Beany goes to his com line out of habit. Beany: “Hey Boiler, you’ll never believe what just happened!” BBBZZZZZZZSSSSSTTTTTT. Beany frowns a bit and tries again. Beany: “Boiler? Boiler can you read me?” BBBZZZZZSSSSSTTTTTT. Beany gets hit with the brick of reality. He is on Earth… Very far from Cybertron… Where Boiler currently is… And they have no idea where he and Bee are… Oh uh… Beany jumps up and grabs Bumblebee by the shoulders shaking him a bit in panic. Beany: “Bumblebee! We are so dead! Terminated! Going to go offline!” Bee finally gets him to stop shaking. Bumblebee: “What? Who?” Beany: “We never told Boiler about… this…” Bumblebee: “… Oh… Oh no…” Beany looks worried. Beany: “You think they’ll be okay?” Bumblebee: “I’m sure they’re okay.” Meanwhile on Cybertron… Boiler: “Has anyone seen my son!?”

#maccadam #transformers x reader #bot buddy #tf rid 2015 x platonic reader #tf rid 2015 x reader #beany #boiler

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elliot-rambles · 3 months ago

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i wanna change my Netflix pfp but have no clue what to change it to so RUN THA POLL!!!!!!

tagging mooties 4 reach: @foulfictkin @russ14n-r0ul3tt3 @xoxochb @beanthebugboi @ace-upmysleeve @did-i-get-enough-love @plasmaglacious-dndendtotem @hibiscuspearswithopaljuice @justalexisfine

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paeries · 2 years ago

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Sick Of You III — h.s.

[when a boyfriend of two years breaks it off and offers a new arrangement, of course you’ll take it up. this is your prime chance to prove him wrong. and Harry can’t bear to watch it]

[part one is here, part two is here, and i just wanted to say thank you thank you thank you for all the love you’ve shown. this one took a loonnngggg time to hash out because I wanted to give it a good realistic feel to the argument, bc y/n fucked up badddd. so, that being said, i'm hoping i was able to deliver and i really hope you enjoy it xxx]

wc; 13.3k

pairing; harry x reader

cw; friends to lovers au, brief smut, annggsssttttt, harry tears, lots of arguing, drinking, smoking, swearing ALOT of it, we’re not exactly y/n’s biggest fans

pov; y/n, but third person

[pssst…. you can find my masterlist here]

“There y’go, sweet girl.” Harry panted out, his hands cupped under her ass as she rocked back and forth on his cock, the tip practically smushed against her g-spot. “Tha’ feel good?” He hummed, as she buried her face in his neck, her hands gripping tight at his shoulders for leverage. She nodded quickly, gasping out a weak ‘Yes!’ before whimpering against the crook of his neck. “So full, Harry.” She hiccuped and Harry’s head fell back, Y/N taking the opportunity to litter kisses anywhere she could at the newly uncovered area. His hands came up to smooth along her back, one hand finding the soft ends of her hair, his fingers twirling the strands around each digit. He’d learned long ago about how she’d coo and preen into his touch. He had moved his head back to watch her do just that, and watch the goosebumps skirt up her arms. “All mine, dove.” He had hummed against her skin. “Tell me.” He begged, sliding an arm around her waist to lift her up a bit, his hips rocking up into her. He heard her gasp, whine, whimper, everything but what he really wanted to hear. “Tell me, Y/N. Please, tell me you’re mine.” He asked again, peppering kisses across her chest. Just as he found her nipple beginning to suck gently, as he knew would get her to say what he wanted to hear, a lower voice from the corner began to laugh.

“Go on, tell him.”

Harry’s head snapped up, ignoring Y/N’s cries as she came, her hips still rocking against him with her head thrown back.

Mark was standing by the door.

•••

Harry’s eyes flew open, sitting up immediately before scanning the room for his clock that he must’ve kicked to the floor in his sleep. 4:16am. He groaned, his hands reaching up to rub his face before laying back down. Maybe I can stare at the ceiling some more and fall asleep?

“Tell him.” Harry audibly scowled, pulling the pillow over his head. He couldn’t even find peace in his sleep, his own brain won’t let him get the girl while he’s unconscious. Ridiculous, really. At this point, he’d rather just scrap the whole day and try again tomorrow. He didn’t feel like moving. Didn’t feel like sitting up and he didn’t feel like stretching his aching limbs. He certainly didn't feel like pulling his curtains back to let the daylight in, definitely didn’t feel like getting in the shower, didn’t feel like tidying up his living room from the night before, he didn’t feel like doing anything but lay down.

So he did. With the T.V. on whatever was already channelled in, he laid in his bed and let his thoughts drift. If he looked out to the aforementioned curtain covered window, he wondered if it was going to rain, since the sun should’ve begun coming up by now. It had to have been covered in clouds, a perfect start to a shitty morning evidently. He dared look back at the clock. What had felt like it had at least been ten minutes, in fact was a little of an hour had gone by. So, with his throat scratchy, his eyes raw, his head pounding, and feeling like shit, he pushed himself up to trudge into the bathroom despite his lack of motivation. Start with a shower, he thought to himself, as he brought a heavy hand to the knobs before stepping under the water.

Usually, he would let his mind wander. Sometimes long enough for his hands to find his cock, tugging till he found his relief under the water. Now? He shuts his eyes, focusing instead on the feel of the hot water pelting at his skin. If only he could put it all off until tomorrow and stop existing only for the day. He was well aware that the minute he’d let the reins go, his thoughts would return to her.

Yet, Harry suddenly can't seem to catch his breath in the shower, the inevitable tears slipping past his cheeks as hard choking sobs wracked through his body, his forehead resting against the ceramic tiles. Nothing could stop whatever noise clawed its way from his gut and out of his mouth when he thought about the night before. He wasn’t even sure why this time was so much worse than all the others.

Was it because he felt like the end was near? That his efforts paid off, or that it was looking like he’d come out on top after all? That all signs were pointing to yes? Not, watch out for the rug that's about to be ripped away from under your feet? Or was it how stupid he never thought she’d have been to throw away what was obviously the right kind of love? That she'd be so blinded to deny it?

You shouldn’t think like that, it’s not like you don’t love her anymore.

Finally stepping out of the shower, he grabbed whatever clothes his hands found from his drawers and began down the hallway to the kitchen. As Harry brewed himself a cup of coffee, he scrolled through his phone for unanswered texts or calls, even updating himself on the news. Again, anything that allowed his mind to venture away from her. Sure there were things that always reminded him of her but he did his best to steer clear as best he could.

While he waited for the machine to finish, he glanced over his living spaces. Nothing too terrible. There were some empty pizza boxes on the kitchen island (he later learned that someone was kind enough to put the last unopened box of pizza in his fridge along with the drinks), and the chairs were a bit haphazard and the couch was covered in crumbs and pillows. This really shouldn’t take too long to tidy up.

About an hour passed, and Harry had gotten through his second cup of coffee, feeling somewhat better and more alert. At least enough to get the day done and over with. So Harry, after looking at the state of his neglected garden from the window, decided to dip into the closet for his broom to start there. The area hadn’t been used since the summer, and with the snowier months on the way, he thought he’d better tidy it now so it wasn’t so atrocious come next springtime.

By the time he finished and stepped back inside the heated walls, a knock came from his front door. Dread ran through his blood, as he stared at it before hurriedly opening the door, immediate relief rippling through his body when Daphne was revealed to have been standing at the other side.

“Hey, Daph.” He sighed, his head tilted in confusion afterwards. “S’quite early, isn’t it? Why’re you up?” He asked but Daphne shook her head, and he noticed she looked quite frazzled. “Nevermind that, y’busy?” She asked hurriedly. “Not exactly, but,” Harry started before Daphne was pushing past him into his house. “Come on in, I guess.” He muttered, shutting the door to follow her. “Are you cleaning?” She asked immediately and Harry’s eyes widened. He wasn’t exactly awake just enough to have prepared himself for company. “Not deeply, just tidying.” He replied, eyeing her carefully. He couldn’t tell what was wrong with her. She wasn’t as put together as usual. Honestly, she looked quite dishevelled. “Good. I’ll help you.” She answered, going to grab a trash bag to collect the empty beer cans and bottles. Harry waited a second, feeling his confusion grow deeper before grabbing a bag as well.

They cleaned in silence for a while before Daphne, who was now holding paper towels and some sort of spray to wipe the counters. “Y’sleep okay?” She finally asked and Harry straightened up. “Slept fine.” He answered quickly, hoping that was the last question. (Somehow, he wasn’t convinced.)

Silence again, apart from the occasional spraying sound from her surface cleaner. “Because, y’never came back out after you got sick.” Daphne pried again, and Harry let out a loud exhale. “I’m fine, Daphne.” He reiterated, looking at her sternly. He reaaallllyyy did not want to talk about it, especially with Daphne. She had barely paused, still wiping down the tables or setting glasses in the sink. “It’s just that, I-I’m having a hard time believing you, Harry. I know how you get.” She began again and Harry groaned, his head tipping back. “Daphne. I’m fine. S’alright.” He said again, staring at the ceiling as silence filled the room again.

Thank Go—

“What’d y’mean, s’alright, Harry?” Daphne shouted suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed at him in some form of disbelief. Surely, he’s joking, she thought. “It’s not alright, you get that, yeah?” She huffed, shaking her head at him. “That, that, what she’s doing, is, is- She’s stringing you along! I-It’s nasty, it’s cruel!” Her voice climbing higher and higher, until she was shouting.

“Enough, already! Alright? I know what it is, Daphne! But, you popping up out of nowhere at six a.m. and throwing it in my face at volume 10 isn’t helping things either!” Harry snapped, pausing from picking up the pizza boxes and glasses strewn about the coffee table. “I don’t need you to tell me any of this shit, I can handle m’self, thanks.” As much as he tried not to, he took one look at her and guilt rushed over him. “M’sorry, for yelling. I’m just,” He sighed, setting the garbage bag down to free his hands. “I’m trying to get my mind off it, so, it’s just not something that I really want to talk about. I appreciate your concern, I do. But, I think I just want to be alone.” Daphne chewed at the inside of her lip as she listened to him, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t come here to pry. I just wanted to check in.” She finally uttered out, going to finish tidying in the kitchen. “I’m at least going to help you finish first.” She said adamantly. And Harry let out a sigh of relief. That, he could manage. “Thank you, Daph, really.” He reiterated, grateful for the help and now silent company.

By the time Y/N left Jodie’s and arrived at Harry’s, she found that his car was running in the driveway, and his front door seemed to be cracked open by a smidge.

Where was he headed off to? Should I go?

Before another thought could form in her brain, Harry came out in what looked like a hurry, stopping briefly at the sight of her before bounding right past her to the boot of his car.

She stayed still while chewing at the inside of her lip, watching as Harry wrapped up six or seven bags in his arms. Without much acknowledgement, he slid past her again to get in the door. “Would you take the keys out of the ignition for me, this is the last of it.” He grumbled as he passed her. “Sure-,” She sighed, opening his driver door to pull the keys out, the engine shutting down immediately.

After making what felt like a walk of shame to the front door, she froze upon entering. Harry was busying himself with getting the groceries put away, walking back and forth between the bags on the kitchen floor to the fridge or cupboards. Harry was determined not to show her how upset he really was. He wanted to give her the same treatment he had been experiencing from her. Besides the fact, that he was terrified he’d start crying the minute he got a good look at her.

“How have y’been?” He asked, barely taking a glance at her as she shut the door behind her. Just focus on the groceries and the house, he thought to himself. Chairs were still every which way, and Harry had relieved Daphne of her duties about an hour earlier once she finished mopping, so he could manage to pop out to the store and grab some groceries for the week. Organising his apartment, unfortunately, took a brief back corner.

Y/N had stepped in, cautious to watch him as he moved over his apartment. “Have t’say that I’ve felt better.” She mumbled, choosing to stay in the entryway and out of his way. “That so?” Harry replied, his jaw clenching. It was clear that she wasn’t going to let it blow past another day. He decided to prepare himself for the second argument of the day.

“Yeah, um, Harry?” She said hurriedly, wringing her hands together to try and work up the nerve. Harry sighed, ducking his head in the fridge to keep himself busy. “Yeah,” He said dejectedly. There’s no running from it now.

“I wanted to apologise for leaving everyone in the dark last night.” There it was. Harry felt his teeth begin to grind against one another, and he turned to collect some of the emptied reusable bags amongst the others to put them away for his next trip. He hated the plastic bags.

Maybe we could distract ourselves with our thoughts long enough to tune her out?

“It was a rough night, and,” she paused for a moment, “Clearly, I had had a major lapse in judgement.” He feels like his blood's boiling a degree or so higher with every word coming out of her mouth.

He clears his throat, “It’s fine, Y/N.” Can’t you take a hint?

“But it’s not fine, and,” She goes on, but Harry isn’t listening. He knows she's still talking and he’s fully tuned out, but he can’t stomach this much longer. He knew what she was saying without even listening. It was always some excuse, or half-assed ‘Sorry’. So, trying everything he could to cut her off, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” he griped, hoping that was enough to let her know to back off. What was everyone’s deal? Wanting to talk about it? When did everybody start caring about it?

“Harry, I’m sorry,” She began again, “you’re clearly angry, so just let me,” Harry’s loud groan interrupted her again as he lifted a hand to stop her, “Just stop, yeah?! Sorry?” He spat, “Sorry’s not good enough! You can’t just say- M’tired,” He seethed, “Of hearing how sorry you are. This time, sorry won’t fix it. S’just too soon.” His long legs carried him to the living room to bring a chair back to the kitchen table along with a few wine glasses to sit in the sink, desperate to find something to busy himself with. Anything to avoid this exact argument.

“Wow, y’sound like Daphne.” She muttered, and what meant to sound like a lighthearted joke to lighten the mood, now sounded bitter and demeaning as she now understood, shutting her eyes tight when she saw his head snap back to her. “What?” He asked carefully, taking a few steps in her direction. “What did you just say?” She’d never seen him so angry, taking a few steps backwards as well. “I-I- I didn’t mean,” She stuttered, chewing at her lip when her back met the front door. “Cos’ t’me? Sounded like you had somethin’ snippy to say, and I’d say that you’re in no place to make petty remarks. Especially, when asking me to forgive you all while you stand there, mottled with bruises and hickeys from him.” He spat, shaking his head at her. “How stupid do you think I am?” His head tilted at her, finally backing up to continue unpacking the bags from the store in the kitchen, even laughing as he did. “Hilarious.” He laughed out, glancing back at her before laughing again as he dug through the groceries.

“I-I don’t- think you’re stupid, that’s,” she sighed, starting again with a concentrated breath, “I know you’re angry. And, I know that I deserve to hear it.”

It made his head spin. The same way it always did when he would put his argument aside and give in. Harry could feel his blood bubbling with anger, with hurt, sadness, all of it coming to a head. Before he could do anything to stop it; he turned around again.

“No, what you deserve is each other.” He spat, immediately regretting the words the minute they came out. He knew it sounded morose and beneath him. But he wouldn’t take it back. He was angry, he is angry. Her eyes went wide, opening her mouth before closing it shortly after taking a few steps towards him again. “I-I,” She began again and he watched as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursed as her eyes danced around the floor before continuing, “You used me! I can’t continue to be the backup, Y/N! That’s all I am! When he doesn't want you, I’m suddenly good enough. Do I matter that little to you?” He felt like he was gasping for air, suffocating slowly and desperate for relief.

She stopped in her tracks, “Of course not, Harry. You know how I feel about you.” She couldn’t think of a time when Harry didn’t matter to her. So her confusion, trying to understand where everything went so wrong, left her at a loss. How she couldn’t see when it went wrong. If she had just talked to Jodie months ago, would they be standing at arms with one another? She’s never seen Harry like this before, ever. The normally cool, calm, collected and goofy Harry, was now hard-eyed, rigid, and cold. Hurt.

Harry scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her. “When?! When have I ever known how you feel about me? When was I something other than your plan b?!” He spat after turning back around, angrily putting cans in the cupboard and throwing frozen vegetables in the freezer. “Worst part is that I fucking knew what was going to happen at breakfast that morning! I knew it!” She thought she was hearing things, but she swore she could hear a choked whimper in his voice. Y/N pursed her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t believe this, Harry. Everytime he cancelled on me, I called you. Anytime he said or did something wrong, I wanted your company. It wasn’t about the sex.”

Harry felt like throwing a full-blown tantrum as he turned around, his eyes widening. “Jesus, so what? Y’telling me I ought to be grateful then?” He quipped, staring at her.

“Of course not! I’m trying to say that I always wanted you around. And that, maybe sometimes, I was happy Mark would cancel.” She explained but Harry wasn’t buying it. “You’re something fucking else, y’know that? ‘Maybe sometimes?’ Fuckin’..” He huffed, deciding to leave it there as he went back to rinsing the wine glasses in the sink. “It’s my fault, I should've got out sooner. My bad.” He spat, leering at her over his shoulder.

“Why did you stay then?!” She yelled, her eyes boring into his back, her frustration reaching its peak. “If there were a million reasons to stop like you make it out to be, why did you stay?!” Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on now. Don’t be daft.” He huffed, shutting the water off to turn to her again, drying his hands on the hand towel over his shoulder. “No, seriously! Why?!”

His eyes met hers, searching hers to try to figure out if she was being serious or not. If she was making some cruel point. “Do you really want to know?!” “Yes!” She breathed, throwing her arms in the air exasperatedly. “Do you?! You’re sure?!” “Jesus, Yes, Harry. I want to know!”

“I,” He paused for a moment to collect himself, “M’- I am in love with you.” He managed in one exhale, his body taut and tense as he looked at her.

Silence for a moment, In love? “Harr-”

“There is no ‘I think’ or ‘maybe’ or ‘could I be’, I am in love with you.” He was breathing heavily now, and deeply thankful she was keeping her distance because he was sure he’d have bursted into tears by now. “If I were Mark, I’d have married you by Month 3.” He practically growled, pained by the comparison. Harry knew full well Mark would never be a quarter of the man he was. “Unfortunately, I haven’t got the money, as we all know, but, I like to think I do well enough on my own.” He was breathing heavily, staring at her fiercely. That was a low one to hurl but he couldn’t stop himself. A full year of his misery, and now she had to make him tell her like this?

“The money?!” She was glaring now, her hands finally settling on the island counter opposite him. “I don’t give a fuck about the money, Harry. I never have, and y’know that. My mother introduced us because she knows his family. Just so happened, I fucking fell in love with him!” Harry rolled his eyes and it only fueled her on. “Right, shocking. As if you’d know what love was if it had landed in your lap.” He spat sarcastically, turning again to flip the tap back on to go back to the last few dishes left.

“Harry, I came here to tell you that I love you.” She admitted, causing Harry to flinch. Something he’d once die to hear, now he couldn’t take seriously. ”No, you don’t.” He groaned, pained to even have to reject it, his lips pulling tight to stop himself from saying anything else. “Yes, I do.” She repeated, her voice catching an irritated tone. Harry couldn’t take it, she just kept pressing, and pressing. “I want to believe you, I do,” He said, his hands shaking while scrubbing the pots and pans. “but, I can’t, not anymore.”

“You can’t- What do you mean you can’t believe me?” She breathed out, bringing her hands up to brush the hair messed around the frame away from her face, the weight of this argument growing heavy. They’d hardly argued before, and never before to this degree. “I can’t believe you when you say you love me. I believe you care for me, or about me, or whatever.” He paused, swallowing thickly so as not to break down. “I don’t believe you’d ever give me an honest chance.” He admitted, his head hanging as he leaned against the kitchen sink, refusing to look at her.

She laughed almost incredulously, “Why not?” And Harry splits, “Because of Mark!” He barked at her, spinning around to finally face her. “It’s always Mark! You've never even considered me as an option!”

“Not once did you ever even contemplate it!” He was seething now, unsure as to how he could possibly get her to grasp a fraction of an idea as to how bad she's hurt him. “What do you want me to do, Harry! I can’t go back in time! I’m apologising now!”

“Oh, Christ, Y/N- They’re just fucking words! If that’s all you have for me, you’d better just go.” He admitted, a mixture of sadness and disappointment etched across his features.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to collect herself. “What do you want, Harry?” As she finally spoke, her voice was timid and defeated, and as Harry’s voice boomed over, she jumped.

“I wanted to be first!” He shouted, veins popping out on his neck from the force. “I wanted you!” His chest was heaving, fully unloading his anger. “Every time I think about you, Y/N, my chest hurts. Like, like someone is stepping on it. Especially when I think about you with him! It’s killing me, and I thought, I-I thought that I could,” He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, deciding he had shared enough. He said what he felt he had to say.

She didn’t really know what to say, taken aback by his outburst. “I’m-,” She managed before Harry decided he had enough. “I think you should leave.” He muttered, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Harry,” She tried, even going as far as to take a step closer to him. “Get out.” Whatever sorrow she thought he could be feeling was so clearly gone. Now, he stood in front of her, tense and angry.

“Leave! I’m tired of this!” I can’t trust you anymore.

“H-Harry, I can’t lea- m’not leaving.” She tried again, begging herself not to let the tears fall. “Now you’re crying?!” Harry barked, reaching up to move his hair from his eyes, tugging as his fingers reached the ends. Rage surged through his body, grabbing her keyring off the counter to take his home key.

He snatched his own keys off the hook to take her house key off, linking it back onto her keyring. “I’m dead serious, Y/N, leave.” He said, cursing himself at the way his voice shook. He knew how scary he could look when he got angry like this, catching a glimpse of his reflection one time in an argument at work.

After pushing her keys back into her hands, he opened the front door and waited, his teary and red-rimmed eyes trained to the ground in front of him. “I-I’ll, I’ll earn it back, Harry. I promise, I-I’ll get the key back.” She murmured, as she walked past him out the door reluctantly. “I swear I’ll prove it.”

Harry managed a small half smile that bordered on sarcastic through his blank stare, hoping she would but still doubtful. “I guess we’ll see.” He gritted, shutting the door immediately afterwards before the unshed tears creating a gloss over his eyes finally fell. Only standing there another few seconds before going back to the distraction of cleaning his apartment again.

“Jod?” She called, stumbling through her best friend's house while fumbling to put the keys in her pocket. “Jooooodddddd!” She giggled out, her vision fuzzed enough as it is without it being pitch black.

Jodie opened her bedroom door quickly, “Y/N? Is that you?” She mumbled, knuckling at her eyes to make sure it was in fact, her drunk best friend. “D’y’know it’s about four in the morning?” A giggle came from the kitchen, as well as some glasses clinking. “Is it?” Y/N hummed, finally finding the kitchen while blindly feeling around for the lightswitch. “Goooot iiiit.” She sang before flipping the light on.

Jodie grabbed a robe, tying it across her waist and shuffled down the hall. “Are you drunk?” A good question, as she was slurring her words while pouring up another drink from her cabinet. “Is Daphne ‘ere?” Y/N hummed, teetering to one side momentarily. “No. Why don’t y’sit down and we can talk about it?” Jodie tried again, reaching for her friend's arm to tug her into the living room.

As both the girls sat down, the room fell quiet. “Talked to erm- Harry.” Y/N muttered, lifting her glass to her lips for a sip. “And?” Jodie asked, leaning forward to lower the other girl's glass. “C’mon, s’just me, relax.” She pressed and frowned as she watched the girl shake her head, more to herself than to Jodie. Y/N scoffed, standing up again to look for her speaker. “It's just us here, right?” She asked again, and Jodie furrowed her brows. “Yes, Daph’s out for the night but I don’t see why that matt-” And suddenly she was cut off by music. “I knew I’d regret giving you the house key.” She muttered to herself, knowing the music was too loud for her friend to hear her.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Have t’say, I’ve seen this kind of behaviour before.” Jodie said after standing up to turn it down. “I talked to Harry.” She repeated, giggling as she did so. “He looked sad. Sooo, sooooo beautiful, but sad.” She sighed, pouting before sitting against the couch’s arm rest. “Everything they said, s’true.” She muttered, staring into her lap as she swirled the liquid around the glass. “Y/N…” Jodie began, “I don’t know where this is go-,” Jodie stopped, as she was interrupted again. “I’m a terri- ‘hiccup’ -terrible person.”

Jodie took a breath, and decided to try again. “Just because you made a bad decision, doesn’t make you a terrible person.” Jodie sighed, somewhat pleased she was able to finish her two cents as she leaned her head against her palm.

“Jodie?” Y/N murmured, hardly looking up from the glass in her lap. “Yeah?” Her friend answered, her head snapping up at the mere thought of her best friend opening up. (Or the exhaustion, it was nearly 4am after all.) “I think I missed my chance.” Y/N whimpered, “I mean, he hates me. I thought I was goin’ over there to tell him what we,'' a hiccup interrupting her, “we had talked about.” She hummed, taking a quick breath to continue. “Was not the case.” She breathed out, shaking her head sadly at the memory of the fight.

“Y/N, I don’t think he hates you.” Jodie repeated, sighing before leaning back against the couch cushions with a soft yawn. “Jod, I’ve never seen him so angry. Ever.” Y/N mumbled, playing with the rings on her fingers. “I’ve just been an awful, awful, person lately. And, I know s’late a-and I wouldn’t normally be here. Becos’ usually, I can go to ‘arry’s. But I fucked that up for m’self, didn’t I.”

“He’s hurt.” Jodie reminded again. “Y/N, you realise that you’ve become his own Mark?”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?” She gasped, and her friend forgave the dramatics, chalking it up to her level of intoxication. “Don’t ‘what’ me.” Jodie laughed, sighing after she caught her breath. “Seriously, you did damn near everything Mark did to you. Whether or not you meant to, is not the issue. You did it, and you need to make it right.” Y/N frowned, reaching for her glass again. Jodie sighed and lowered it again. “And, this? This is not how you make it right. Straighten yourself up. M’not letting you go down this road again, and definitely not when it's from your own doing.” She stood, taking the rocks glass and brought it to the kitchen. “Now, what kind of sandwich would you like?” She asked curtly, dumping the remnants of the glass in the sink before turning to open the fridge and fish out the necessary items. “I’d like you sober now.”

———

Now that Jodie had been certain she had somewhat sobered her friend up, she settled on the couch with a blanket strewn across her lap. Y/N was eating a carefully crafted turkey and brie toastie with a glass of water, laid across the other couch. The two girls were watching some of the ‘007 movie series to settle back down for the night. Jodie was undoubtedly closer to sleep than Y/N, but she didn’t mind staying up with her if it brought her friend some solace. Of all the times she could remember, (other than recent unfortunate events) Y/N had never let her down. Always there, even when her mother died, Jodie actually had to send her on random ‘quests’ to find some alone time in those first few months. “Jodie, I couldn’t imagine going through what you’re going through and keep the same…. Jodie-ness about you.” She’d said all those years ago. They were young, just freshly in the middle of their college careers. In all honesty, Jodie had stayed ‘Jodie’ because she had Y/N. As silly as her statement was at the time, it truly summarised her most valued friendship.

“What are you thinking about?” Y/N suddenly asked, and Jodie lifted her head, “Are you asking me?” She giggled, “You never ask!” She admitted when she received a ‘duh’ and Y/N shrugged, pursing her lips. “Well, you’ve been practically counselling me for the past week and a half and I haven’t asked. S’been eating at me for a while.” Y/N explained, watching as Jodie frowned. “I just, I know you’ve been dealing with a lot too. About the house and,” To her relief, Jodie cut her off. “That’s okay. Your little dilemma offers a much appreciated distraction if we’re being honest. I’ll be okay, I’ve got time.” She explained through another yawn. “You, however, are fucking up left and right hourly.” Jodie teased and somehow successfully dodged a throw pillow tossed her way.

“I wish you would just cry and that could be it. Y’have to get confusing and block everybody out.” Jodie huffed, cracking a smile at her friend who feigned shock. “Honestly!” She laughed, Y/N joining along. “I’m not doing it to push people away, I just hate to complain about something so trivial. I mean, Daphne’s moving for her new job, stressful. You have this house to worry about securing, I-I mean, I can’t leave a man alone if it killed me. All the while, mucking up a great relationship with a guy that actually cared about me enough to at least try and wait it out. That’s done with.” Y/N huffed, her face burying into her hands. “It’s just embarrassing, that this is my life issue.”

“Your life issue?” Jodie laughed, “I somehow doubt that this is it for you, Drama Queen.” She giggled again at the thought, shaking her head. “I’m gonna try to fall asleep, you nutcase. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Love you, Jodie.” Y/N hummed, standing to collect the plates and glasses to set down in the kitchen. The very least she could do was fix her kitchen back up after she barged in and woke her friend from a dead sleep.

—

When Daphne walked in the door the next morning and saw Y/N on the couch, she immediately stormed down the hall to Jodie’s room, who had gotten up just an hour prior to go to her bed. “Jodie!” She whispered, opening her door a crack to poke her head in. “Get up! Right now, get up!”

Jodie groaned, whining as she flipped over, pulling her pillow over her head. Daphne walked over to her bed and pulled the pillow away. “Y/N is on our couch!” She huffed, Jodie grumbling out, “Yes.”

“So! What is she doing here?!” Daphne huffed, setting her hands on her hips. “Christ, Daph, does it look like I’m alert and ready for the day?” She complained and Daphne pulled the blankets back. “I’m serious!”

“She got drunk and came over in the middle of the night, we talked and fell asleep. What is the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I’m pissed off at her! So I’d like to know if and when she’s here.” She explained, irritance written across her face. “And I still live here too!”

“Stop it, Daph! She wasn’t here for you, she was just here to talk. You weren’t even here last night.” Jodie grumbled, blindly reaching for her covers. “Well, I’m leaving. Text me when she leaves.” Daphne huffed, leaving Jodie’s room to duck into her own to collect the things she’d need for the day, showering and dressing before slipping back out the door. (She did, however pack a bag with her ‘daily essentials’, her hair and makeup products. She absolutely couldn’t risk taking any longer.)

“Thank you.” Jodie grumbled, before burying herself back against her bed.

—

“Hey you’re up! I was just getting my things to head out.” Y/N hummed at the sight of her tired looking friend.

“Yeah, might need another nap.” Jodie yawned, going to the fridge for a glass of water. “Daphne’s mad at you.” She added, turning to look at her friend. “I figured, she hasn’t been answering my texts.” Y/N sighed, taking her keys and wallet. “She ever tell you why?” She pried, chewing at her lip. “I mean, I know why, but,” She sighed again, shrugging.

“Well, s’the same shit. I’m assuming she’ll have to talk to me about it at some point. Dunno why shes so pro-Harry all of a sudden.” Jodie answered, “Thinkin’ she thinks this is her chance?”

“Not my business.” Her friend replied curtly, pressing her lips together before taking a step to the door. “Well, I convinced Cade to come pick me up to take me home and he’s here so, I’m just going to try and pretend everything's okay for a little while longer. I’ll see you later Jodie. Thank you, again, and m’sorry again for keeping you up.” Y/N apologised, before she stepped out to meet Cade at the end of her drive.

Jodie sighed, shutting the door and headed to the kitchen to start a kettle for some tea. It always put her in the mood for a nap. With her tea ready, she shuffled to the couch to collapse against it after carefully sitting the cup on the table in front of her. “Peace,” She hummed, “and quiet.” before settling for another rest.

Somehow she had spoken too soon, the front door was opened again and Jodie grumbled something incoherent about having been so close to sweet sleep. “Is she gone?” Daphne’s voice rang through the entryway. “Jesus Chr- Yes, Daph, she left about ten minutes ago! You practically passed her, how long are you gonna keep this up?”

“As long as I feel is necessary.” Daphne countered, heading to the kitchen to set her bags down. “What’s all this?” Jodie asked when she sat up, shuffling to the kitchen to look at what her housemate brought home from the store.

“Went out to the store, grabbed some stuff. Are you hungry? It’ll be some sort of an orzo pasta salad.” Daphne shrugged, pulling the ingredients out of the bags, as well as pulling out the necessary pots and utensils.

“I suppose,” Jodie yawned again. “Let me get cleaned up and dressed, I’ll help you.” She muttered, taking her tea to the room to shower and change. “No, no, get your rest, shouldn’t take too long. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” Daphne called as the other headed down the hall.

—

“And that’s it, it says, Chill overnight or serve as is.” Daphne read off her phone, “I’m hungry now, so as is it is.” She snickered to herself, setting her phone to the side to give a few final stirs before turning the burner off. “Jod! S’about ready, now or never! M’starving.” She called out, loud enough that she was sure her friend could hear her clearly. “Coming!” Daphne heard back, muffled as it was, as she began to run cold water over the orzo before mixing the vegetables, cheese cubes and dressing.

Before long, Jodie came down the hall with a swiftness. “Been smelling it for ages wondering when you’d call me down.” She hummed, “Looks amazing, Daph.” Jodie praised, taking the time to give her friend a good once over. “Hey,” Jodie began cautiously, “You okay?” Daphne huffed, cleaning up the counters' surface. “Yeah, Jod. I’m perfectly fine.” She sighed, disappointedly. “You could have at least let me accept your compliment before you dug into me.” She mused, rolling her eyes, worrying now that their lunch was ruined. Jodie stared at her for a moment, blinking every now and then. “You realise everything you’re currently doing is in fact not fine?”

“Okay, I’m not. It’s not like it matters. Nobody listens to me anyways.” Daphne grumbled, taking her seat after passing a bowl to Jodie. “What’s your problem then? You’ve been as irritable as ever for the past three days.” Jodie asked, her brows furrowed with confusion.

“Because! You baby her! Let her get off the easy way and she’s in the wrong. I don’t care if she cries or begs, she fucked up and she deserves to hear about it.” Daphne sighed, shaking her head gently in thought.

“Yeah, Daphne, but some people learn differently. How can you expect someone to learn from their mistakes if you throw them to the wind and never give them the chance to fix it?” Jodie asked, still leaned against the counter as she watched Daphne clear the kitchen and turn the light off to sit at the breakfast counter. “And, I don’t baby her.”

"Oh, come on. Why’d y’think she stuck with Mark? She likes playing games, and she doesn't care about the victims of those games; even when they're her own best friends." Daphne griped, finally taking a bite from her bowl. “I’m not sure why you act like she’s been like this for your entire friendship.” Jodie counters, both unimpressed and growing irritated with how her friend is speaking about their supposed shared friend.

“She practically has! She was always the nicest, the smartest, everybody loves her. Even while making the most colossal mistakes!” Daphne groaned, rolling her eyes. “I love her, I do, like I would my sister! But I make one measly misstep and I’m done for. It’s time she gets a little bit of reality.”

“There’s reality, and then there’s meanness.” Jodie shrugged, grabbing a spoon to sit down with her friend. “And Daph, you’ve made tons of measly mistakes, and the world never ended, nor did we ever throw you out.”

The group met at the Stumble close to a week and some days later, and the night was getting into its usual spring, with Cade drunk and slumped at the bar booth they sat at. Unfortunately, Cade lost another shot challenge to Jodie, as usual, and it had left him incapacitated for the evening.

With Daphne at the bar and Cade practically asleep, Y/N scooted closer to Jodie. “I fucked up.” She whispered and Jodie’s eyes widened, “Do not tell me you slept with Mar-,” Y/N shook her head quickly, watching for Daphne. “No! Nice vote of confidence, that, thanks. No, I went to Harry’s last night to drop off a pizza, he said he didn’t get to eat so I thought it’d be a peace offering.” Jodie nodded, leaning in closer to hear her better. “He had a girl over.” Y/N murmured, watching as Jodie’s eyes widened again. “Harry did?!” She practically shouted, “Yes, shh! Not too loud, Daphne’s coming back. Mums the word, Jod, I mean it.” Y/N winced at the memory, reliving the humiliation all over again before shooting a glare at her friend and straightened up as Daphne began walking back over.

“What are you doin’ ’ere, Y/N?” He hushed, his breath leaving him at the sight of her. She had a box of pizza in her arms and a hopeful smile. “Y’said you hadn’t ate today, thought I’d bring some pizza for you.” She explained, her eyes holding his for a minute before she began feeling her cheeks heat up. As she looked around to avoid his stare, she caught sight of a jacket on the coat rack and a thin silked scarf. Brown leather, that looked far too small to fit around his broad shoulders. Harry’s stomach dropped, and he felt his mouth go dry. “Thank you, but uh, s’not really a good time. Could I call you tomorrow?” His heart was hammering, thumping through his eardrums. Y/N could feel herself deflate, putting the pieces together. His hair wasn’t dishevelled from napping, he had a girl over and she was interrupting their date. Her eyes widened and she began nodding, “Yeah! No worries,” She assured him and handed him the pizza box. Harry felt like he could die right there, his arms taking the box from her out of shock. Why tonight? Of all nights?

“It’s for you, I uh, already ate.” Come on now, Y/N. Just get out of there already! “Er, right. Talk to you tomorrow.” She muttered again and awkwardly turned to get back down the driveway to her car, walking as fast as she could without obviously running.

Harry watched as she retreated back to the car and groaned, shutting the door. “Everything alright?” His brown haired guest asked, coming down his stairs in one of his shirts. They had hardly gotten very far, really. The doorbell chiming just as the woman, Claire?, had broken their makeout to remove her shirt. Harry sighed, looking to the box and grumbled. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He managed to make the trip to the kitchen and set the box down on the island. “You ordered a pizza?” She asked, coming up behind him to look from around his shoulder, before taking a sip of her wine. Harry tensed and rolled his shoulders back to get her off them. “Sorta,” He sighed, ”Listen, m’really sorry, but I’m not feeling too well. Could I order a ride share to come pick you up?” He asked, feeling as though his legs were cemented to the floor under him. Her eyebrows furrowed, and he could tell how awkward the air got. “Uh, sure? Are you alright, Harry?”

“Er, not really, m’so sorry but,” He sighed, shaking his head at himself. “I’ll help you grab your things.” He murmured, picking his phone up to order a ride for her. The woman, looking very confused, began to gather her things and slip her boots on. “Did I do something wrong?” She paused when she got to the doorway, looking at him for some better explanation. “No, no, really, believe me. It’s my fault. I’ll give you a call.” He added, chewing at his lip just desperate to get this girl out of his home.

“Anyone know if Harry’s coming by tonight?” Y/N asked, sipping cautiously at her drink as she watched her friends turn their attention to her. She really just wanted to apologise to him for intruding and that she hoped it didn’t ruin his night, as crushing as that reality felt. There was a lot she wanted to apologise for, the list just keeps growing by the day.

Daphne giggled as she returned, clearly having just caught her question. “Well, I imagine he has other friends, Y/N. He’s probably out with them.” She snipped, setting the drinks on the table and took her seat next to her date she decided to bring along impromptu. Y/N grimaced at her answer, of course he has other friends, lots of other friends.

The two girls haven't been on the best of terms, hardly speaking to one another if Daphne didn’t have something snarky to say. Jodie tried her best to dispute any minor arguments, for the sake of the two's friendship. They’ve butted heads before but they’d also gotten over worse situations. The fact that Daphne seemed to be going out of her way to bring it up, had Jodie on edge the past week. And Harry hadn’t texted Y/N nor had he really been seen in the same amount of time. The last time he came out with the group, he had to leave early after he began introducing the group to a random girl he met by the bar that looked a lot like Y/N, even going as far to introduce her as The Nice Y/N, the poor thing, after having a bit too much to drink. From then on, if he did come out, he never stayed long.

“Chill out, Daph.” Jodie spoke up, eyes practically searing at Daphne. “Y’sound jealous.” She giggled, playing it off as a joke effortlessly for her date whose eyes went wide at the accusation.

Most of the group rolled their eyes, preparing for another gruesome catfight between the two girls. Peace was found few and far between nowadays, Daphne just wouldn’t drop it.

The truth was, Harry was out with some of his other friends. A rehearsal party for a wedding in Italy to be exact. One he had planned to take Y/N to when he got the invitation a few months or so prior, but, well… that played out the way it did all on its own.

So, as he sat on his own at the full service open bar, making friends with the hired bartender. “Think I can get another one of those pomegranate things, mate?” Harry asked, having just finished his first drink. “What’s in it, by the way?” The bartender smiled, setting out the bottles he used for the drinks. “Bit of Prosecco, the pomegranate liqueur, and some white rum. Garnish and whatever else.” He shrugged. “Agli sposi è piaciuto molto.” Harry sighed and nodded, taking the drink besides not knowing what he had actually said. “Salute” He said before taking a big gulp. “Make that two of these.” He gritted, raising his glass.

———

“So, did you come here with someone?” Harry asked, staring into his glass. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been sitting on the ground with…Luca, and Luca, as he found out, didn’t speak great English, but he’d been doing well thus far. And surely, it could’ve gone smoother had alcohol not been involved.

Luca’s brows furrowed, shaking his head at him. Harry frowned, trying to remember some basic keywords he tried to learn while on the plane. “Erm…fidanzata?” Harry tried and Luca nodded, turning his head to look for his girlfriend. “Mia ragazza, Vita, è seduta lì. Over there.” Luca repeated in his best English after noticing Harry’s confused look. “Ahh, ‘Ve got a girl, whooo, by the way,” He mused as he sat on the floor by the bar, leaning against the wall for stability. His head falling heavy on his neck as he gave in to his memory, those pomegranate things…or whatever they were seemed to be working their way through him. “Would’ve looked gorgeous tonight. Could’ve outdone the bride-to-be.” He hummed, lifting his head to take another gulp of his drink and loosen the tie around his neck. “Probably best I didn’t bring ‘er after all, isn’t it?” He laughed out, letting his heavy head fall back again, his hand coming up to run a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Would’ve left early, back to the ‘otel,” He hummed, his eyes fluttering closed, “Jesus Christ, she’d give the sloppiest blowj-“ He was interrupted by a sudden weight at his knees. When Harry quickly opened his eyes and looked down, a dog had laid its head on his lap.

As he looked around, the guy he thought he was talking to from the groom’s side was nowhere to be found. “I thought we were bonding, Luca!” Harry laughed out to nobody, his hands scratching behind the dog's ears. “S’a good thing you stopped me, far too young to hear about all that yet. Where’d you even come from?” He laughed to himself.

To: Y/N

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N turned over in her bed, her phone buzzing on her bedside table had lifted her out of her pathetic half sleep. She grumbled to herself in annoyance, knuckling at her tired eyes before pushing herself up in the bed. Finding the lamp's knob to turn it on, she reached over to grab her phone.

*Message from Harry*

Her brows furrowed, rubbing at her eyes again to clear her hazy vision before unlocking her phone to view the message.

From: Harry

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N let out an involuntary giggle, trying to ignore the daunting question forming in her head as she wondered what exactly that dog got to hear.

She stared at the message for a while, glancing at the time before tapping on the character field to type out her reply.

To: Harry

am I supposed to laugh? because that’s funny

I hope he didn’t bill you for the therapy

Harry chortled embarrassingly as he read her text, staggering down the hall of his hotel until he got to his door. The shock that he normally would have felt, had he not drank as much as he had, was nowhere to be found. If he was sober, he’d surely not have sent any text whatsoever like he bad been doing. He just missed her, annoyingly. Nevermind the aches and pains from the memory, apparently, going more than a week without talking to her hurts more. He rolls his eyes at that, “Go figure.” He muttered to himself.

Once the door was unlocked and opened, he trudged inside, yanking at his tie to slide it off his neck while looking at her reply. “Y’could’ve been here wiv’me.” He mumbled to himself, sighing as he toed off his dress shoes, stepping out to the balcony for a few quick puffs of a cigarette to ease his nerves. Cefalù, Sicily seemed to have gone quiet for the night, apart from some clubs and bars, and a few stragglers still at the beach, surprisingly quieter than he had expected. Harry sighed, looking over the view as he took a drag, snubbing it out and tossing it in the trash before dipping back inside to finish getting undressed for bed.

His thumbs fiddled around his keyboard for a few minutes, and he decided to send whatever echoed in his head, pressing send before another moment could go by and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

To: Y/N

I wish you could be here.

He had only sent the message just over a minute ago but the anticipation was eating away at him, nevermind the fact that he was pretty drunk from the four, or was it five? He lost track after the conga line. Needless to say, the pomegranate drinks did their job well.

His thumb immediately hit the call button, putting it to speakerphone as he attempted again to undo his buttoned dress shirt. One ring, two rings, three… four… Is this a bad idea?

“Harry?” He could hear her whisper, and he held his breath. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. She sounded like she was asleep and he brought his hands up to rub across his face. “Shit, m’sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’ about if you’d been asleep.” He started but Y/N was quick to cut him off. “No, m’not, I haven’t,” She sighed, starting her sentence again with an amused giggle. “I hadn’t been to sleep yet.”

Harry hummed, taking a seat on his temporary bed for the remainder of the week. “Havin’ trouble?” He asked hesitantly. She snickered, propping her pillows upright so she could lean against them. “Something like that.”

There was a few seconds of silence, the both of them somehow content with the knowledge that the other was there.

“Did you have something to say, Harry?” She asked timidly, unsure why he was calling her at 3am. She could hear him take in a deep breath on the other line, and she sunk further into her bed as she waited anxiously. “N-Not that I’m trying to get off the call, o-or anythin,” Harry laughed, effectively stopping her rambling. “I really don’t have anything else to say.” He admitted as laid himself down, and tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his stomach when she giggled.

“Why? Because you said it all to a dog already?” She giggled out, the line on the other end going quiet, deathly quiet.

—

“Did you mute me to laugh? Or were you just acting like I was funny this whole time?” She countered, her eyebrows furrowing.

A faint click was heard and Harry’s giggling voice rang through the phone again. “As if you know me.” He laughed out, sighing as he relaxed on the bed. She giggled, pursing her lips as she thought of anything else to keep the conversation going. “Oh! How was the wedding?”

Harry hummed, exhaling as he prepared to answer. “S’tommorow, so we’ll be expected to be fully sober and prepared. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner, or party, or whatever they called it. M’hopin they’ll have more of that pomegranate drink they had tonight.” Y/N snickered, thankful they were on the phone so he couldn’t see the stupid grin plastered across her lips. “I wanted you here with me.” She could hear him murmur and sighed at his admission, her eyes shutting closed as she laid on her bed. “I hope m’not keeping you up.” He spoke again, suddenly remembering there was a time zone difference. Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “No! No, you’re only an hour ahead, Harry. I’m technically keeping you up.”

“Have I mentioned how beautiful it is here? I know m’pretty trashed, but seriously. The pictures don’t do it justice.” She had seen the pictures, the sunsets, the meals, the giggly videos uploaded to a story she was somehow still allowed to see.

Y/N sighed, staring at her ceiling as she listened. “I can imagine, are you near the beach?” She hummed, tucking her legs up closer under the covers so she could turn slightly to look out her window; a true fashioned England thunderstorm was reaching its peak. “Well, I’ve got a slight view where our hotel is, but the wedding will be closer when we head that way tomorrow evening.” He hummed, finally laying in his own bed.

“It’s raining here, thundering, actually.” She sighed, her bottom lip tucking under her teeth as she looked to twirl her rings around her fingers. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. There were a few nights that they spent together during a storm, some of the best time he’d argue they ever had. The house would inevitably get colder, and they’d have food prepared, movies downloaded and flashlights nearby. Harry would get a fire going in the fireplace, and they’d sit on the couch with all their snacks, waiting the storm out.

Here comes the ache. It felt like shutting down, the way his brain cut that train of thought, the memories. He shouldn’t have called. “I can imagine.” Harry repeated, a low rasp settling in his voice as exhaustion began to set in his body. “Harry?” He heard her soft voice through the receiver, her tone letting him know what was coming. “Y’ought to get some sleep, Y/N.” He sighed, reaching up to turn his light out.

“I’ve tried.” She murmured, clearing her throat after a moment of silence. “Well, try again.” He hummed, setting an arm behind his head. She snickered herself before laying back down in her bed. “Yeah. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry frowned, brows knitted together before uttering out “Goodnight.” just before the call ended.

“I’m tellin’ you, all of a sudden everyone was gone, and it was just me and the dog!” Harry laughed out, leaning back against the backrest of the booth, listening to the confusion and laughter spread amongst the group.

He looks so good. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Italy did him well, a full tan across his skin. He was truly glowing. Thank God he was telling a story so no one else would notice her absolutely staring at him. And she wished she could pay attention to what he was saying, because everyone was hysterical around her. So much so, that now it was clear she hadn’t been paying attention. She faked a laugh, looking around at everyone else in order to gauge just how funny the conversation got.

“And you didn’t realise everyone was leaving?” Jodie laughed out, a little more than skeptical at his story. “Or the lights dimming?! Music stopping?” Harry laughed and shook his head, “Not at all! Hand over my heart, s’them drinks! Which, I’ll be recreating as best I can because they were phenomenal.” He sighed, going over (to the best of his ability, in hindsight he probably shouldve asked the bartender to just write the ingredients down) what was put in those drinks.

“Italy was beautiful, I mean, everything was gorgeous. The food, the villages, I mean, my God.” Harry sighed, his hand placed over his heart. “I’ll miss it.”

Y/N was busy with her drink when she felt a nudge under the table. Her head snapped up, finding Jodie who had locked eyes with her, a smirk placed on her lips before mouthing ‘worldly experience’. A small gesture to cheer her up, something she had always loved about Jodie. Nevertheless, Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. ‘Rub it in, why don’t you?’ She mouthed back.

“You’d all love it. We ought to rent out a place for a week and all us of go together.” Harry suggested, reaching for his glass to finish off. “Have t’say, wasn’t the same without you guys.”

“Let’s just crash our own wedding.” Cade offered, snickering as he was probably already drunk. “I don’t know anyone getting married, Cade, do you?” Daphne asked, shaking her head at him. “Doesn’t have to be someone we know, Daph,” Jodie piped up, “you’re supposed to check out venues, times and all that. If there's a wedding event, then you go. That’s a properly crashed wedding.”

“But they wouldn’t recognise us! They’d escort us away immediately.” Daphne argued with a huff. “Yeah, but anyone that asks, you just tell ‘em that you’re a friend of either side. Family doesn’t really care about the friends part of the invited.” Cade explained, holding his head up. “Tell ‘em Y/N. She’s done it before.” He grumbled, “If y’dont believe me.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head at Cade before sliding a glass of water over to him. “We have done it before,” She replied, gesturing between herself and Jodie. “Nobody bothered us.” She shrugged, before standing. “I think Mr. Man over here, needs a burger and chips.” She giggled, Jodie standing as well. “I’ll go with you. Anyone need a top off?” Jodie asked, looking around the group for the show of hands. “Not you, Cade.” She laughed out, before the two made the trip to the bar for the tables orders.

“So,” Jodie started, leaning against the bar while waiting for the bartender to finish their serve. “So?” Y/N laughed out, shrugging her shoulders as she scanned the menu items for a decent burger for Cade. “Sooooo, have you talked to Harry?” She asked again, wriggling her brows at her with a giggle. “Christ, Jod.” Y/N laughed and shook her head, “No, nothing since the phone call.” She sighed and pursed her lips, “Think he’d do that onion and bacon cheeseburger?” Y/N asked, trying to change the topic. “Cade would eat styrofoam if you handed it to him, now, are you planning on talking to Harry?” Jodie pried again, rolling her eyes as Y/N grinned at the bartender, relaying the orders to ignore the question again.

When the barman shot off, Jodie huffed and tapped on her friend's shoulder. “Er, Hello? M’talkin t’you here, sweets.” Y/N groaned, tipping her head back, “What do I say to him, Jodie? Hey, remember our phone call when you were slaughtered after living it up in Italy? Ooh, or, My God, Harry you look great! I wish I wasn’t such a nonce, and we could’ve gone together!?” Y/N rolled her eyes, “No thanks, really, m’fine.”

“Not really a bad start is it? And, you still haven’t talked to him about the pizza incident.” Jodie reminded, watching the bartender talk to the cook in the back. Y/N sighed, her eyes shutting. “Jodie, please..” She breathed and Jodie scoffed, “Don’t give me that, I think he should’ve at least mentioned leaving for a week, after whatever that was. He never explained himself to you.” She asked and Y/N shook her head, “And he doesn’t have to, I had no business being there, and if I had just kept to myself then I’d never have known anyone was with him that night. So, please. I’d like to drop it.”

Jodie sighed, collecting the drinks tray as Y/N reached for Cade’s food before they made their way back to the table, Jodie uttering a quiet, “If you say so...”

“Well, Harry told me earlier that the same night he had Carina over, Y/N had showed up with a pizza.” Daphne murmured to the table, consisting of Jodie, Cade, and Daphne’s date for the night. Jodie’s eyes widened and carefully slipped her phone out to send a message. The group had just arrived at the bar after a pregame party at Jodie and Daphne’s to celebrate Daphne’s birthday, and Harry had just stepped out to the bathroom, thankfully.

To: Y/N

Daphne knows about Pizza Night

“While Harry was with her?” Cade asked, his brows knitted together in confusion. “No, you idiot,” Daphne laughed, “He said she just showed up with a box of pizza while he had my friend Carina over.” She explained and snickered again when she finished. “Why is that funny?” Jodie asked, her tone quick and sharp as she dug in her bag for her lipstick.

“Guess it’s not funny, just, er, unideal.” She giggled again, shrugging her shoulders in response, to which Jodie rolled her eyes. She’d never known Daphne to be so petty in her life, and she couldn’t stand to see it. Just as she was going to correct her friend, Y/N had come bursting through the front doors.

“What took you so long? Ordering pizza?” Daphne snickered as she watched Y/N rush in haphazardly to get to her seat. “No,” Y/n snapped, setting her coat and bag down to the inside of the booth. “Had to take care of some things, my car’s been acting up so I had just now gotten to pick it up from the mechanic.” She breathed, sitting down finally with her forefinger and thumb pinching at a throbbing nerve at the bridge of her nose. “Had to call three rideshares, the first two just never showed up. It’s just been,” Y/N sighed, trailing off as another throb derailed her train of thought. “Well, lemme get you a drink, babes.” Jodie offered, ignoring the wave of Y/N’s dismissive hand as she got up anyway to fetch her friend a drink.

“Ought to get some sleep, all those headaches.” Daphne chirped, shrugging her shoulders as she sipped at her own drink. “Never known you to be late for my birthday.”

Y/N sighed, nodding, “I know, and m’sorry Daph, really. Happy Birthday.” She muttered before sliding over the gift she somehow managed to pick up before the shop closed. “V’been so stressed lately, wasn’t sure if you’d like it but there's a gift receipt if you want to exchange it.” She explained breathily. No matter how bad they had been fighting lately, a birthday is a birthday. A silly promise they made all those years ago but something Y/N took to heart.

“A birthday is a birthday.” Jodie raised her glass to the air, huffing as her friends stared at her before bursting out into laughter. “C’mon, it’s a toast, you idiots!” Jodie groaned as they began to laugh harder. “To what?!” Daphne gasped out in between giggles. “That no matter where we are, different time zones or with one another, mad or not; a birthday is a birthday. And y’can’t miss it.” Y/N wiped her eyes and clutched her stomach, an attempt to calm herself down.

“S’not bad, actually.” She hummed, raising her glass as well before looking at Daphne. “Come on!” Jodie coaxed, grinning as the third rolled her eyes playfully, lifting her arm in the air to gently tip against the others' glasses. “A birthday is a birthday!” Daphne grinned, the three girls knocking their shots back to begin their night.

Daphne’s eyes widened for a moment, reaching across to accept the bag. “I- Thank you.” She breathed out, pursing her lips as she set the gift to the side.

Harry had emerged from the bathroom, stilling slightly when he saw Y/N had in fact made it before continuing to the seat. “You look exhausted.” He said, a frown pulling at his lips at the sight of how tired she actually looked. “I know, I know, they’ve said so.” She sighed, straightening up as Jodie came back with her drink and a chip and wings platter for Cade. “Thank you, I’m poor at the moment.” Y/N laughed, reaching into the chips pile.

“Are you sleeping well?” Jodie asked, nudging her friend's shoulder when she shook her head no. “Keep waking up throughout the night. Might need a new pillow or something.” Y/N explained, sipping quickly at her drink and hoping the conversation would venture elsewhere.

“Maybe if you weren’t showing up at random times to peoples houses-,” Daphne started again, only opening her mouth once more before Y/N lifted her head to look at her. She couldn’t really be this mean? “Then perhaps you’d getting better sleep.” She finished, and Harry froze, swallowing thickly. He never meant for Daphne to use it as informational ammo. Harry cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he prepared to intervene but Y/N had beat him to it after finishing what was left in her glass.

“Are you done?” Y/N cut, glaring at her. “Shut up about it already, okay?”

“Touchy.” She quipped, giggling as she glanced at Harry. Y/N rolled her eyes, excusing herself from the group to get the next round of drinks.

“I like when Daphne drinks.” Cade laughed when he was sure Y/N was out of earshot earning a smack on the arm from Jodie. Daphne grinned, pretending to fan herself at the praise. “Happy Birthday, to me.” She hummed, reaching for a shot from the centre and downing it. “Wasn’t really that big of a deal, was it? Some advice and she takes off.”

“Y’have to love the theatrics, though.” Harry added, shrugging as he reached over to down a shot as well. Jodie huffed and leaned back in her seat, her legs crossed one over the other as she braced herself to tell the whole group off. “Hardly theatrics, isn’t it.” Said Jodie, as she couldn’t take much more of the banter. “Well, she stormed off over nothing.” Harry huffed and Jodie's eyes widened. “Nothing?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes again. “Don’t act stupid, Harry, you know what Daphne was getting at, and you!” She glared at Daphne, sneering at her even. “That’s far too low for you, you’ve got more class than that.” She added, leaving Daphne with her mouth hung agape.

“S’a fucking ploy, Jod. So, she’s a lil’ embarrassed, she’ll be fine.” Harry reluctantly replied, his eyes darting at the rest of the table as a silent plea for help.

“Oi, I hear her crying in the middle of the night, Harry. S’hardly a ploy. You, of all people, should know what I’m talking about.” Harry, of course, did know immediately what she was talking about, and it made him sick. The first time they got together, what started it all. So long ago, but somehow still as bittersweet as it was now, it was the happiest time of his life. Before he knew, before it was ruined. His jaw clenched, thinking back at it now and remembering it’s not his fault.

“I’ve cried too, Jod!” He argued, his chest beginning to feel the far too familiar ache. Jodie rolled her eyes, with a sarcastic laugh. “It’s your doing! Both of you! Harry, you could very easily get all this over and done with a simple yes or no. Just rip the bloody bandage off already. We all know what Y/N did, and I don’t know why Daph’s so set on making it ten times worse. I don’t feel bad for you, for anyone!” She argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “And Daphne, just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you get a free bitch pass, not from me anyway.” Jodie finished, leaving Daphne to grumble her response. “You all suck. I want new friends.” Jodie huffed at that, cracking a small smile to ease the tension. “I expect to hear apologies in the next coming days. Cade, you too!” Jodie sneered, grabbing from the chip pile to toss at him, “What did I do?!” He whined, groaning when Daphne grabbed some of the fallen ones to toss at him too. “Shut Up, Cade.”

Jodie sighed, feeling the weight loft from her shoulders now that she’d spoken her mind. “She’s not even there anymore, I don’t see her.” Jodie grumbled as she turned to scan the bar area. “Lemme…” She trailed off, pushing her chair from the table to get up and find her.

When she got to the bar and tried explaining what Y/N was wearing to the barman, she caught a glimpse of her dress in the outside area. “That’s okay, think that’s her outside, thank you anyway.” She said over the music, grabbing for the made drinks and hurried out the door.

“Y/N?” She started, quietly and sighed as her friend's head tipped backwards at the acknowledgement of her presence. “It’s fine, Jodie.” She breathed out. “No it is not. You were supposed to be at the bar, know better than to just disappear.” She scolded, setting the tray of drinks on one of the iron wrought tables sitting on the stone patio, sprawled each way for any patrons needing a smoke break or fresh air.

“Didn’t disappear, paid for the order and thought I’d earned a smoke break. I’ve been running around all day, stressing. Thought tonight would be a nice peaceful distraction, but nooo, not as long as Miss Perfect is around.”

“Miss Perfect,” Jodie laughed at that, “Really, you both act like you’ve never been friends in your life! Over what? Mark of all things?” she added exasperatedly.

“Yeah, well, I tried being nice. Tried a birthday is a birthday, she doesn’t care. Harry doesn’t care, m’over it. I fucked up, and it’s done with. M’tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to mend my mistake. Feels like beatin’ a dead horse. So, so, so fuck it.” She rasped, bringing her arms around herself as she took another drag. “Fuck it.” Jodie repeated and sighed, “Alright, well, I’ll leave you to yourself then.” And Y/N spitefully laughed out, “Yes, Thank you!” before turning her head to the door to find Jodie had already left.

—

“Did you find her?” Cade asked, lifting his head as Jodie returned with the forgotten tray of drinks. “Yes.” She griped, setting the tray down and returning to her seat. Daphne and Cade carefully reached over for their drinks, watching as Jodie glared at Harry who kept his head down.

Cade nudged Harry, “What?” Harry barked, annoyed he was shaken out of his thoughts. Cade glanced to Jodie and then away again, acting like he heard his name from behind him. “O-Oh, h-hey…. Charlie, haven’t seen you in a while!” He said before scrambling away to the back of the pub.

“What?!” Harry asked again incredulously and Jodie rolled her eyes and pointed to the outside area. “Fix. It. Now.” Harry groaned, pursing his lips. “She doesn’t want to talk with me.” He tried and jumped when Jodie gave a swift kick to his shin under the table. “Alright, alright…” He winced, standing carefully with a slight limp as he hobbled to the side door.

As he opened the door, he brought his arms around himself at the feel of the bite from the wind. And upon a short glance around, he saw her toeing at the cobblestone in the back corner, half burnt cigarette in hand that desperately needed ashed off. He sighed, a little too loudly as she had jumped, spinning around with a hand to her chest. “Jesus, you scared me.” She admitted, and Harry could see she’d had herself a little cry.

“Hey.” He mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep from pulling her into his arms. He really hated to see her so upset, “You okay?”

“Oh, m’fine, Harry. Thanks.” She huffed, taking another drag of her cigarette after she turned back away from him. “Really, for everything. S’nothing for you to worry about.” She snipped, gritting her teeth together. “I’ll guess, Jodie sent you.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Y/N, about the other night,” He began, taking a step closer. “I, it wasn’t, well-,” He struggled, pursing his lips tight. “S’fine, Harry. Daphne’s right, I shouldn’t have just shown up. Wasn’t my place to do so.” Y/N interrupted, shaking her head. She just didn’t want to know, she felt stupid to have tried a stunt like that to begin with. But Harry continued anyway, “A-and, I didn’t think she’d use it like that when I told her, and! We weren’t like, making fun of you. I was just venting, I felt awful. The timing of it, it was just, it was awful.” He finished, watching her carefully as his hands dug into the material of the pocket of his trousers.

“And, I wanted to erm,” he added, looking at his shoes and began to fuss with a loose cobblestone. “I wanted to apologise, for how I acted the other day. Well, really, days ago now. Er, I know, I wasn’t exactly fair.”

“Please don’t apologise, Harry, I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course a simple sorry wouldn’t have fixed it. I just, I talked with Jodie about it and it- it all hit me that I had it all wrong. And,” She sighed, shrugging it off. “I fucked up, a-and, it’s done for, so, if we could swiftly just er- try and forget?” Her voice began to shake, her lips quivering as she struggled to get the words out. Harry frowned, taking another step closer. “Y/N, I don’t want to forget.” His voice was strong and sure, and she groaned in frustration, “Cor, Harry, I’m so confused.”

Harry grumbled a bit to himself, “Look, just, come back inside. We’ve got all of our friends inside. S’Daphne’s birthday, possibly her last with us, yeah?” He tried to reason, to get her mind of it. He loved her, yes, but he wasn’t quite ready to forgive and forget either. He wanted the opportunity for the pair to get their frustrations out, the dramatic side of him needed to get to the bottom of this. Whether it meant he had to yell, and hear her yell too. He felt it was the most raw way to get to the solution of an argument. Or maybe that he needed to hear that she cared about losing him as badly as he did. That she’d been as miserable as he was.

Y/N stayed quiet, chewing at the inside of her lip. “Know it’s her birthday an’all but, fuck Daphne right now.” Harry laughed a little, reaching a hand out to her. “Come back in, s’bloomin’ cold out here.” She sighed and tipped her head back. “I don’t know, Harry. Think I should just go home.” She admitted, reaching through her bag for her phone. “Noo, really. Stay, please.” He shifted closer and grabbed her bag. “So Jodie won’t chop me up into a million pieces? Because she’s really scaring me.” He added and glanced back through the door to see Jodie staring at them through the glass. Y/N laughed and shook her head fondly at her friend, “She’s come a long way to get that intimidating,” and with a heavy sigh, “yeah, c’mon. it is cold.” Before she could take a step towards the door, Harry stopped her. “We will, talk later, y’know,” He assured, swallowing thickly as he ran a hand through his hair; a poor attempt to retain his newly set boundaries, he thinks. “Later?” She repeated, her brows knitted together. “Yeah, later, s’alot to say, wouldn’t you agree?” He grumbled, something of a curse was all she could make out, yet seemingly annoyed with himself. “I-I do…” She mumbled, even more uneasy than before somehow. “Plus, we’d better head in before the Birthday Girl gets drunk before we do.” He added and Y/N laughed, still uneasy but shrugged it off all the same. “Later works with me, yeah.”

[part i.] [part ii.]

(a/n: WOW its here, and dont even let me BEGIN on tumblr’s mobile editing format bc it SUCKS!! anyway! sorry again for the long wait, and i hope your patience is rewarded with the third part!!! xxx as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated!)

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