#partnerships and really for even a moment full on believe that they could stand a chance

[qkmlh]

On a superficial level, I get Amelia because Sam Winchester?? Very very pretty with certain attributes that make him an appealing man. That being said. That same man also has soooo many blaring red flags that do NOT make it worth it from a long term, especially romantic, partnership stand point.

That is to say, I did indeed judge her choice in choosing to go to the motel to meet Sam and it’s this feeling of oh. Honey. You can do so much better please you are the Other in his questionable everything with his brother and y’know, you’ve seen, what his brother meant to him because he understood you as a widow on a mourning and bleeding heart level. Please. He deadass packed his bag and left you with the dog without even saying goodbye. (Did he even tell you what it was?? The Something that wasn’t even fully about your own husband coming back, the Something Else that was even more the reason he left??)

You think about him all the time GIRL HE WAS RUNNING!!! HE WAS RUNNJNG JUST LIKE YOU!!!! TWO WAR WIDOWS FINDING SOLACE IN UNDERSTANDING AND CARNAL ATTRACTION!!!! SURE IT WAS LOVE BUT BESTIE GIRLIE SWEETIE I’M SO SORRY THAT LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH THAT LOVE IS ONLY A FRACTION TO THE PSYCHOTIC IRRATIONAL EROTIC CODEPENDENCE

[avelera]

(Arcane Meta) "Why do you persist?" And the Character Flaw of Viktor's Tendency Towards Non-Confrontation

After writing this post I had something of a brainwave about a character flaw of Viktor's that had previously never occurred to me before. Namely, that of his habit of simply removing himself from moments of disagreement or confrontations, rather than sticking around to fight harder for his causes or negotiating to reach a compromise.

I've spoken elsewhere about how Viktor comes across as fairly flaw-free after Season 1, so one thing I found really interesting about getting his full arc in S2 is that we can begin to see his character flaws brought into focus.

And I should clarify, a literary character flaw is not the same thing as a real life character flaw. A literary character flaw is when there is something about the character that stands in the way of them achieving their goal in the story. For example, being clumsy is not a "character flaw" in a real person, it's simply a trait of neutral moral value, but it could be a character flaw in a story about a person who wants to become a ballerina, something they need to work to overcome.

So, I would and have argued that these are a few of Viktor's character flaws, personality traits of his that get in the way of him achieving his character's goals in Arcane:

Political disinterest: despite the fact that Viktor has a stated goal of helping the undercity, he never looks to other methods for improving life down there outside his personal skillset of science. Even when his close partner, Jayce, becomes a Councilor, able to enact political change with a wave of his hand, Viktor is dismissive of this avenue as a waste of time even though he is proven wrong in this assessment by the Zaun independence vote (at least, until outside forces like Jinx's rocket interfere).

Self-isolation: Viktor is plagued by loneliness that appears to be so painful to him that it eventually sets him on his villain path. However, he is also surrounded by people who care for him, especially Jayce and Sky who are literally willing to risk their lives for him. But Viktor seems either unaware of their affection in Sky's case or actively pushing it away in Jayce's case. He's not actually alone, he just thinks he's alone because of his habit of self-isolation when he is focused on his work or (very reasonably) stressed about things like his imminent mortality. This is also a flaw when it comes to his goals as a scientist, because Viktor pushes away potential collaborators. He's not aware of Sky's research towards his goal of improving lives in the undercity until after she dies. He's so skittish about Jayce potentially shutting down his research into the Hexcore and by extension saving his own life that he doesn't bring in his best scientific partner in on the work when Jayce could probably accelerate or even solve the problems Viktor is facing if he knew about them. Heck, he doesn't even tell Jayce he's dying but still shows resentment towards Jayce not spending time with him or helping him in the lab!

Single-mindedness/Intractability: It's Viktor's way or the highway. He doesn't compromise, or negotiate, in order to advance his own goals. This is in some ways a virtue, he refuses to bow in the face of pressure to turn his creation into a weapon, which is laudable. However, as stated above, he also has blinders on when it comes to other methods for achieving his stated goals, like improving lives in the undercity. Viktor sets his mind on a course of action and cannot be swayed by any argument. If he sees a confrontation he can't win, that brings us to the final flaw I wanted to address in this essay:

Non-confrontation: Viktor does not fight for his beliefs or persist in searching for a solution in partnership with others, even Jayce. This isn't to say he never engages in argument. He states his position, but like many intellectuals, he seems to believe that simply stating his position is enough and then he refuses to budge. If he doesn't get his way after a certain amount of time, he shows his displeasure by removing himself from the situation entirely rather than looking for common ground or alternate paths.

I want to reiterate, these are character flaws for a fictional character. In a real life person, I wouldn't think of this as necessarily a flaw at all. Viktor's stance could even be a virtue in a real person, an unwillingness to bend the pressures of the world, and the maturity to not get involved in ugly fights but instead simply step away from a situation he no longer wishes to be a part of.

It is a mature and intellectual response but, when it comes to the problems Viktor faces in Arcane, it is a symptom of his pacifism that actively gets in the way of him achieving his stated goals.

Viktor doesn't fight again Hextech weapons. He simply states his disapproval and then removes himself from the debate, leaving the decision entirely in Jayce's hands.

Viktor doesn't fight Heimerdinger for the removal of safeguards or defend his research into the Hexcore. Once again, he makes his argument and then seems to wilt in the face of doing anything more than that. Jayce ends up fighting that fight in his place but even worse, Viktor doesn't seem to know about or acknowledge that Jayce fights this battle on his behalf, which in turn contributes to Viktor's sense of isolation and not having anyone in his corner, even though Jayce just overthrew the government for him.

Viktor is noted to frequently disappear for long stretches of time, without letting Jayce know where he went. Which is entirely his right as a real person, but given his character's patterns of behavior, it does heavily imply that he's hiding something, perhaps his failing health, from his partner. We know he actively avoids telling Jayce about the full extent of his health issues, given his own lack of surprise at his own prognosis when he collapses and Jayce's utter shock.

Viktor also avoids the spotlight and doesn't partake in the public aspects of promoting Hextech or even seem all that eager to put his name on things he created however, he also notes with despair that no one will remember him after he is gone. This one has always puzzled me a bit, I suppose he wants his inventions to be so groundbreaking they speak for themselves, but he not only makes no effort to attach his name to their work in Hextech, he actively refuses to go on stage even as a silent partner to Jayce to present himself as the co-creator of Hextech. This to me is another symptom of his habit of avoidance: he simply wants people to find their own way to his view, in this case acknowledging his work, without making any effort to persuade or even present himself to them.

But finally, and most salient to the point I'd like to make: Viktor after emerging from the Hex-goop making his greatest avoidance of all by removing himself from his partnership with Jayce, having decided that they have passed the breaking point of their partnership and have no choice but to go their separate ways.

The thing is, from a Doylist angle, this moment is necessary for furthering the plot. I actually think it's a rather clumsy beat in retrospect for how visible the hand of the author is in making it happen, because Jayce doesn't, for example, stop a naked Viktor from departing, which would be a reasonable thing to do under the circumstances when Viktor is clearly in shock, nor does Jayce offer to go with him, which feels particularly out of character given how unhinged Jayce is and his own wedding-vow like promises of devotion only moments before, offering to give up everything he's been working on to be by Viktor's side.

I suppose shock could explain it on both sides, or that Jayce just wanted to go back to how things were, not forge a new path, but regardless, the outcome is that Viktor once again removes himself from a situation he's decided is untenable, rather than asking for, say, some guarantees from Jayce that he is sincere, or negotiating for some concessions from Jayce, or even delivering an ultimatum for what Jayce needs to do to stay by his side.

I suppose you could argue that Hextech weapons was the line, and Viktor is so uncompromising that once it's crossed, that line cannot be uncrossed in his mind, even in the face of Jayce's regrets and desire to make it right by whatever path Viktor sets for him, perhaps reasonable given Jayce has ignored other requests by Viktor up to this point, like not destroying the Hexcore. But this all gets thrown aside when later, Viktor invites Jayce to the commune (if we even believe that's Viktor and not the Hexcore, as I've argued elsewhere, it's all a bit muddy and we can guess at many reasons Viktor left that day, one of which might have been to protect Jayce from the Hexcore and himself).

I bring up the question of how much the Hexcore is controlling Viktor being an active question, because I'm going to undermine my own point here for a moment. I'm arguing that Viktor tends to state his position and then retreat from any sort of compromise or negotiation with other parties, removing himself rather than yielding if he doesn't get his way, but he does persist in trying to make contact with Jayce during his villain arc. I'd argue that insofar as it is Viktor at all, the Hexcore's modifications have given him the confidence for the first time to fight for Jayce, and despite Jayce killing Salo, shooting Viktor, and destroying his robot self, Viktor as the Machine Herald is still pleased to see Jayce (what a simp) and does still seem to want Jayce to come to his way of viewing things. Arguably for the first time, Viktor is persistent in an argument or debate, but he still refuses to budge in what the outcome will be. He wants to persuade Jayce, but he doesn't want to change his position or consider Jayce's side of things at all, maybe because the Hexcore is in control, or maybe because Viktor has always approached academic debates in this way: by refusing to listen to the other side or change his position.

Ok, so this brings me, F I N A L L Y to the point I've been wanting to make:

"Why do you persist, after everything I've done?"

^^ Viktor's genuine confusion about Jayce's persistence.

I think his confusion is, as we've seen if you made it this far, very much in line with his character and this is what I just realized. Viktor doesn't understand why Jayce keeps trying to confront Viktor even though apparently they have opposing views. If Jayce isn't going to come around to Viktor's way of doing things, why are they still even engaging in a confrontation? Why doesn't Jayce just remove himself, the way Viktor would?

In his villain arc, Viktor is more persistent, but he's not more willing to negotiate. If anything, being a villain just gives Viktor the power to not need to avoid people who don't come around to his way of thinking, but to actively, forcefully change their minds against their will. Not by persuasion, or diplomacy, or sophistry. Not by making an argument. But simply like many engineers he thinks that his solution is best and the data will miraculously speak for itself and there's something inherently wrong with people who don't agree with his view.

Machine Herald Viktor firmly believes he's in the right, his mind cannot be changed, it's never been changed in the past (except by Jayce, by the way, when he made the argument for Hextech that seduced Viktor into being his partner in the first place. Once again, Jayce is the exception) so why does Jayce keep fighting?

And I think I'm correct in identifying Viktor's intractability, his unwillingness to accept any view but his own as correct or to hear opposing arguments, as a character flaw because it does get addressed by the end of the story and we see him recognize this and change. He sees Jayce was right, the path he was on was evil, it was going to lead to widespread destruction, not salvation. Viktor sets out to make it right. And once again, he tries to go it alone, without inviting his partner in on the process, and here too we see a flaw addressed: Viktor finally lets Jayce in. He lets Jayce help him and he doesn't run from the difference of positions, or self-isolate in the face of someone who cares for him, or try to solve the problem alone, secure in his incorrect belief that he must do everything alone.

It's a brief scene, but finally at the end, we address these deep character flaws Viktor has been carrying throughout the story of Arcane, and only then can he at least achieve his goal of destroying the Hexcore, with Jayce.

[sinnabarmoth]

Seeing Caleb made me think… how’d the other LIs (Caleb too if you want to include him) react to US being the villain of the story, either in this timeline or in their respective myths?

I'm not as familiar with the myths so I'm just gonna go ahead and say main timeline, disregarding myths, and your villainy is unspecified but really bad! Like, trying to take over the city and destroying lives kind of bad. (Also I don't know wtf is going on with Yizhou's backstory yet so I'm working with pre-pronounced dead Yizhou.)

Zayne: Shocked and guilty. He's known you since you were kids and he never thought you capable of doing this, being the villain. But there you are and all he can feel is guilt because maybe if he hadn't disappeared for so long this wouldn't have happened. Maybe he could have changed things. He never thought the people he treated would end up hurt because of you and for that reason he has to fully turn away from you. It hurts to do but he cannot condone your actions, no matter your history or what he may feel.

Xavier: Xavier is absolutely betrayed. You had been fighting together for so long and suddenly you've turned against humanity. His heart absolutely breaks seeing this person that he admired so much and trusted with his entire heart suddenly turn on him. He tries to reason with you, tries to talk you down from this path, but you're too far gone and he can't in good conscience come with you. He's tempted for a moment but he can't. He dreads the day he comes across you on the battlefield because he is scared of what he may be forced to do to someone he held so dear.

Rafayel: Rafayel has fully turned to your side, almost zero hesitation. He is here for you and only you and he is not letting you go. Doesn't matter if this betrays his morals, he is sticking with you. Whatever made you so jaded that you had to turn into this, he wants to destroy it too. He will gladly stand next to you and tear down the world so that he can build a better one for you in the future. Sometimes you do things that makes him pause but he doesn't waver from your side. The only thing that could do that was if you went against him too.

Sylus: Sylus is enabling you. His file is already bleeding red and he doesn't care about adding more to it. You have gone full dark side and there is a part of him that mourns the sweet girl with a penchant for justice that he had known. But this side of you, this ruthlessness, the cunning, the drive, it's honestly incredibly attractive. Not only because your confidence and skills are physically attractive to him but because he doesn't have to pull his own punches anymore. He just hopes that you remember that this is a partnership now. If you try to take him down then he's taking you down with him.

Yizhou: Physically cannot believe what he is seeing. He knew that life was hard for you growing up having grown up alongside you. You had always been a sweet but mischievous kid, but this? He doesn't even recognize you anymore. When he tries to think of why this is happening all he gets back is more questions. He doesn't want to give up on you. He wants to believe that girl he knew is still in there somewhere and maybe, just maybe he can reach her. If only he can get close enough, otherwise he doesn't know what he is going to do.

[blackjackkent]

Onward to Orpheus's cage!

The Emperor is still acting as if it and Hector are allies and just need to brainstorm a new plan, which is honestly odd under the circumstances. It knows Hector and Lae'zel plan to free Orpheus, it knows they have the Hammer; it really has no reason to believe that they are still on the same side.

Honestly the whole situation speaks of a level of almost-sentimentality on the Emperor's part which is uncharacteristic of it to say the least. The other options, of course, are that it has a trap planned of its own, or that it is so utterly desperate in the face of the Brain's power that it is willing to ignore Hector's planned betrayal. All of these are bad possibilities, albeit for different reasons.

In any event it does not immediately turn around to face Hector as he approaches, but continues looking thoughtfully at Orpheus trapped within Vlaakith's prison.

"I have assessed our encounter with the Netherbrain from every angle," it says calmly. "I know why we failed."

Silence. Hector waits, and eventually the illithid turns to face him, its pale purple eyes intent. "The problem was not the stones. The problem was you."

Hector scowls defensively - and yet the words strike deep in his heart. He feels keenly aware of the fact that he failed in what was supposed to be the final showdown; that on some level he was not strong enough to do what needed to be done.

"You can make only one move at a time," the Emperor goes on. "But the Netherbrain calculates every possible move at once. It knows what you will do. It knows everything you could possibly do. You cannot outmaneuver it."

It drifts closer to him, hooking its hands behind its back. "To defeat it, you would have to think like an illithid. Better yet - be one. Your mind is not capable of this."

Hector's scowl deepens. Of course - even now, the Emperor will try to insist yet again on the Astral Tadpole, on forcing him into "evolution".

But the Emperor surprises him. "Mine is," it finishes. "You will give the stones to me. I will assimilate Orpheus. And then I will be able to leave this Prism to face the brain."

Several moments' startled silence follows these words. Hector just sort of stares at the Emperor in bewilderment.

It is, he reflects, an astonishing display of misplaced confidence. Why does he think Hector will agree to this? And yet at the same time, it stirs that same strange, frustrating compassion that the Emperor - or perhaps whatever is left of Balduran inside it - has always been able to stir in him; in spite of knowing full well that Hector has ulterior plans, it still wants to work with him. It still believes their partnership can succeed. It still saved him when it could have let him die.

Hector hates the sense of guilt that comes with this knowledge - because he is the one torpedoing that partnership wholesale, without question.

But he has a deeper loyalty elsewhere.

"Assimilate him? Tsk'va! No, now is the time to liberate him! Do not stand against me!" Lae'zel hisses behind him.

No fear of that, Hector thinks. This decision was made before we arrived.

"There is another way," he tells the Emperor, deliberately calm, matter-of-fact. "We will free Orpheus."

A mind flayer's expression is nearly impossible to read - but Hector has a pretty good handle on the Emperor's at this point, and its anger is unmistakable. "You still don't trust me? After all we've been through?" it snaps. "Remember, I have been your salvation from the very beginning. Your knight in shining armor. I freed you from the nautiloid, prevented you from crashing to your death. I have protected you ever since - at no small cost to myself."

It floats a foot or two closer to him, its eyes narrowing, and its voice goes oddly soft. "I came to you as a leader, but i did not shy away from showing you vulnerability. I needed you as much as you needed me. I was not above recognizing this. When you discovered my true identity, I did not flinch from truth. I never lied to you, not once. I am just like you. We have the same enemy, the same story. I encouraged you to fulfil your potential, all while protecting you from harm."

It extends a hand towards him and demands, "Now I ask you for the last time to trust me! Release the Netherstones to me!"

Hector remains utterly still, making no move to retrieve the stones.

Oddly enough, this strange speech from the illithid backfires completely. Nothing the Emperor is saying is untrue, and yet laying it out so flatly shows it suddenly in a new light.

Yes, the Emperor has never fully lied to him, but there is plenty that it has not said unless forced to it. It has been vulnerable, yes - but the very way it describes that vulnerability is as a practical tool, not an emotional connection. It has been manipulating him; it would have showed him no kindness at all if it did not serve its own ends.

And another thing, too, nudges at the back of his mind - the Brain said that the Emperor was itself a pawn in the Absolute scheme, albeit unwillingly. Far better, then, to turn away from it entirely to something the Brain does not expect.

"Enough," he says flatly. "I have the Hammer. I will free Orpheus."

The Emperor's tentacles twitch suddenly, sharply. Its voice, always nearly emotionless, goes utterly cold. "I told you we have to trust one another," it growls. "I told you the githyanki would only want to kill you for what you are. Still you choose to break our alliance."

"Even united, the Netherbrain was going to be an impossible enemy. But apart - we have no chance of survival. Very well. Since you will not work with me, you work against me."

A new portal shimmers open behind it; it keeps its eyes fixed on Hector's as it drifts backwards into the gate. "You leave me no option but to join the Netherbrain."

Hector watches in silence as it vanishes into the pale light and the gate seals behind it.

-------

"What?" he says weakly. "What just happened?"

"That's a hell of a flip," Karlach says dryly.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised..." Hector mutters. "It was always about its own survival, in the end."

And yet there's a strange hollow feeling in his chest at the breaking of this alliance that he cannot possibly explain.

-----

"The ghaik is gone," Lae'zel says, unconcerned by this latest strange development. "Our mission is set. Smash the crystals with the hammer, and free the Prince of the Comet. Gith's beloved son will lead us to a sure victory against the Netherbrain."

Hector sighs, hefting the Hammer up in one hand and eyeing the crystals that line Orpheus's prison.

I do hope I am not making a terrible, terrible mistake, he thinks to himself wryly, and then lashes out in a wide, arcing swing that shatters the crystal apart.

[thedivinelights]

Little Snippet of the Extortionists AU: Stave Two (Modern AU Jacob/Ebenezer, no spirits involved!)

Having a whole lot of fun with this story not gonna lie! And I REALLY love how this part turned out so have a snippy snip!

(SNIPPET UNDER THE CUT)

Fezziwig gestured for them to take a seat, his hands trembling slightly as he poured himself a stiff drink from the decanter on his desk. Marley remained composed, his expression unreadable as he watched the older man, while Scrooge leaned back in his chair, a faint sneer playing at the corners of his lips. Pastelle stood at the side, far from the negotiations, yet not so far as to be unseen, her hands placed behind her back as she watched on with a calculative eye.

“Would any of you care for a drink?” Fezziwig asked, hoping to retain some of that cordiality that he had been so well-known for.

Scrooge declined with a curt shake of his head, while Marley kept his eyes upon Fezziwig for a few moments longer, as if he expected the old man to pull a trick or two to get himself out of the precarious situation he found himself in.

“I, uh, don’t believe we’ve met.” Fezziwig chuckled nervously as he glanced over at Pastelle, hoping to stall for just a few moments more. “Are you a new hire?”

“Who she is shouldn’t be any of your concern, Old Fezziwig.” Marley cut off that dialogue before Pastelle could even hope to respond. “What you should be concerned with is whether or not this partnership between Asplex and FezziTech should be considered null and void.”

Fezziwig’s form seemed to wither under Marley’s scrutinising glare, even if he had refused to falter. “Listen, I know we haven’t delivered on time as we should have, but there was a massive chemical spill in one of our main factories and caused a fire which completely decimated our inventory. We’re doing our best to recover, but—”

“Four quarters, Fezziwig.” Marley’s timbre seemed judicious enough, but the coldness alone sent a shiver up the older man’s spine. “Now, I’m sure a man of your stature understands basic mathematics, but in case you’ve forgotten how business works, let me remind you that that’s a full year’s worth of missed shipments. Your bullshit excuses haven’t changed the fact that we’re the ones paying for your incompetence.”

Incredulous, Fezziwig opened his mouth to fire back a retort, but Marley continued.

“We have been more than patient with you, Nigel Fezziwig.” Marley leaned against his gloved hand, crossing his legs as his green eyes radiated with a sly glint. “We’ve shared history together. Scrooge and I will always be grateful for how you’ve brought us to where we are now, but gratitude can only get so far in our line of work, and neither of us are going to stand by while you piggyback off of our success, reaping the benefits like a leech.”

Fezziwig paled. “Jacob, my boy, you can’t just… we’ve worked together for years! You can’t seriously be thinking of cutting us off like this!"

“Come on, old man, don’t you have other companies to turn to?” Scrooge asked rhetorically, barely hiding the malicious grin that had spread across his face. It looked wrong. It felt wrong.

“Eben— Scrooge. Please, you must see some sense!” Fezziwig pleaded, begged, grovelled.

Scrooge continued undeterred, his smile more prominent now. “Oh yes, that’s right! We’re your main source of revenue, aren’t we? Without us, you’re nothing more than an old relic struggling to keep up with the changing times.”

Tagged: @rom-e-o @ray-painter @crimson-phantom-designs @quill-pen

[brightblurr]

Why do you believe Kira and Lacus are not as in love as Kira and Flay? Don't you think that relationship was abusive and toxic.

Without a doubt, Kira and Flay were very toxic. It was not always a healthy relationship. I'm not denying that at all. It was a relationship that was a means to full something for both of them - for Flay, a means to control her situation, and for Kira, a means to find someone who could give him strength and repose when he committed these horrible acts that otherwise drained him. Both of them wanted something from their relationship.

The reason why I feel like Kira truly loved Flay was because her death made her untouchable. I feel like despite the toxicity and the abuse, they were both on equal grounds when Flay died. I really believe that had Flay lived, they would have gone back to one another. It is all primarily because of who Kira is.

In Gundam Seed, we explicitely see that Kira does not like to fight, did not want to acknowledge what he is and he feels stressed with the notion of fighting people who he is a part of. Flay is the person who comforts him through this. They share more than just sex and small romantic gestures. They share one another's stressors and worries. Kira, with Flay, is more open and awake to his emotions and what makes him sad than he ever is with Lacus. Even though we do not see many intimate moments with Lacus, we do see that Kira openly cries, is frustrated, and tells Flay what bothers him. We see that he is open to telling her how much he hates what is happening with his world. This Kira, who is so alive and full of emotion, ceases to exist once Gundam Seed kills Flay.

I truly believe that Flay brandished Kira as a weapon and she was toxic, but she was very much like Kira. She was a girl, all alone, who had no power over what she was surrounded by. Her ability, as someone who could offer that comfort, that warmth, of a partner, was something she knew would mend Kira and make him more likely to align with her. It kept the Archangel safe. We know that Kira becomes attached to her and he continues to fight because of Flay. It is the beautiful reminder that Kira needed Flay, and Flay needed Kira. They are a partnership.

I love Lacus as a character, and there was another post on here (https://www.tumblr.com/prezaki/702202093968244736/sword-and-mirror-a-lacus-clyne-analysis?source=share here's the link! worth the read) that really shows how Lacus is a powerful character, and the words that really stand out to me from this gigantic essay have to do with how Lacus is left to brandish the weapon that Flay forged. I think even more significantly, Kira, after the war, does not have the same emotional capacity he did in Gundam Seed. He did not show the same force or aggression, the same passion, he did previously.

I feel like it is the same as with Athrun in Gundam Seed Destiny, where Kira, previously, did not hide his romantic notions. He let people know he and Flay were together. In Destiny, while he and Lacus eventually embrace their relationship, it is still not full of the same fire and passion that Flay had. Kira is a broken man and the road to mending him is long. And Lacus, for better or worse, is not the forceful, manipulative woman that Flay had been. Lacus allows Kira the choice of using his weapon, where Flay manipulated Kira into it. They are too different.

I think with time, with a long time, Lacus will be the love that Kira chooses. She is a woman who he met, who gave him choices and allowed him the freedom that he needed to become himself. She is the good choice for him. But Flay was his first love, and Flay was the woman who set him on the path he is on. That relationship shaped Kira more than any other he had. He loved her. He wanted her. And after losing her, Kira is not the same in Destiny. He honestly comes off tired and depressed.

So yes, I do think Kira loved Flay more than anything. I do believe he loved Flay more than Lacus. But Lacus is the best choice for him. She is someone who will respect his decisions, who will give him the freedom to continue to grow how he wants. She is the person who, in the long run, Kira can probably trust will mend him and NOT manipulate him. There is no toxicity in their relationship and it is clear Lacus is the person he will grow to love without feeling forced to do anything. It's beautiful that the writers never rushed that relationship. They let us see that while Kira is not in the same place he was romantically with Flay, he is slowly getting there. There is no rush for them. They are healthy and happy.

[asoulofatlantis]

Seriously tho... how did we get from 3 ars mostly full with political issues to all that occult stuff in the fourth arc? I mean, yes, we had witches and diving dogs and we dealt with the cult in Crossbell to but... here were dealing with Angels and Devils and gates to the netherworld and the likes of that. I remember that Crow was never a fan of all that stuff, sucks to be him, thinking that he is in Calvard right now - I wonder why that hasn't gotten mentioned so far...

Well, at least the death game situation makes sense now... I mean why he wanted it to be that way, not why everyone played along even if it was out of character or made one strongly question their bonds and relationships. I would prefer some "The people on this island have more fun in fighting because of those evil spirits" explanation added to that explanation so it would make more sense.

Is... there a more in-depth connection between Mare and Lapis?

I do get that Swin had this Trauma with Ace and that he felt like he had to be on his side and support him, after everything that happened between them. So the betrayal in itself is something I can go with. But I stand with my point that it was absolutely out of character for Swin to leave Nadia behind. Any possible romantic feelings aside here, we see in Reverie that being separated is an issue for Swin. Yes, he promised to protect Nadia in Aces stead and you could argue that he didn't have to keep that promise anymore if this would be the real Ace. BUT after everything they have been through, you really want to make me believe he only cared for Nadia of the sake of Ace and didn't develop any feelings of friendship, partnership, gratitude and companionship for her at all? There is no way in hell that is true and if it isn't true then him leaving her behind still makes no sense whatsoever. If he would have taken her with him - and I believe she would have followed if he pulled his cards right, even tho Nadia always knew that wasn't the real Ace, she would have followed him, even if just because she couldn't take being separated from him. But he never offered her that chance and just left her behind likes this and that is absolutely out of character for Swin. Going to the other side if Ace is there is one thing but not without Nadia.

It might be worth of note that it looked like the first Genesis was resisting the pull of the eighth Genesis for a moment. That is the one Agnes is mist attached to and the one which of the beginning of Kuro one, activated upon her reaction. Try as you may, it still seems that Agnes has a special connection to at least that one part of the Genesis and it still seems weird how this works if she has not such thing as a biological connection to Epstein. We can not forget the comment about her father getting himself into "that bloodline" which Agnes commented with a weird face. Anyway... we will get an answer to this eventually.

My poor Girl. This is really painful to watch.

FINALLY! This Intermission was such a darn pain in the ass.

She is such a hypocrite sometimes. She is so dead set in doing everything according to the holy bracer-book but when it comes to working with Van, she pretends she can be fine with how he and his team operates even tho that is far from what the bracer-book would say.

This thing is such a time-consuming hassle...

I think I end this here for today. I don't think I can stomach that huge mess of a chapter right now ^^'

[fluxofthemouth]

Piter startles at the emotion Fayeth shows. Stop threatening her? It was just a remark with implications, really... a statement of boundaries that could be guessed... if she had ever seen him threaten someone properly, she would realize the difference!

His two impulses on how to respond are at odds. On one hand, he'd like to double down, keep playing the teacher:

You present yourself as perfectly kind and harmless, my dear, and you may even believe it yourself. Can't you see the gift I am giving you, in refusing to pretend you have no capacity for harm? It is our birthright to protect ourselves. What you are calling 'me threatening you' is generous respect, pure and simple! I am responding to your full humanity, not the slice you hide in like an attic. Believing in your own purity only amplifies the degree of heartbreak you feel on the day you find that you absolutely must compromise it!

On the other hand, it's exciting to see her assert herself like this! If he sends a message that she can't question or contradict her teacher, whether because he won't allow it or because of an implication that she will never make a point as good as one of his? He will be training a passive follower. If she can't defy him, how will she get comfortable defying worse enemies?

A third reaction creeps in, humbly and unannounced: she still wants to work together? She isn't completely repulsed by him? It's... touching. His caution against her turning him in was given like a caution against squashing a bug. There is an implied, despite how much you might want to. In her confusion, she is asking for trust in a true kind of partnership he legitimately did not know was available to him. He might have spoken differently, indeed, if he had known.

"Forgive me, I... did not realize the distress I would cause," is all he says, for the moment. He says it with genuine humility, not a teacher's superiority. "Yes, we will go together." He doesn't linger on the matter. They don't have a lot of time.

He's finished assembling the things he was making: two small pouches on long cords, which can be worn like protective amulets. They are protective amulets. He hands one to Fayeth and motions for her to put it on. He puts on his own at the same time she does, supposing she does.

"This will project an aura of fear and unease," he says. "We have to use it cleverly. It's no good to count on it to keep them from looking in the hayloft. They won't have good reason not to, and unexplained fear will only make them confused and suspicious. But suppose we pass them by, traveling in the direction they are coming from, with the hoods of our cloaks pulled over our faces and seeming to be locals on a stroll to market. If they feel a sense of dread when they look at us, and they already have visual clues that hint we aren't runaways, I would bet our lives, am betting our lives, that they will leave us alone. When they don't find us here, they'll carry on in the same direction for a while, which should buy us a lot of time."

He gathered the few things he had to gather as he was talking, and now he's standing, ready to go, with his hood pulled low over his face and the basket Fayeth brought up last night in his hands. The basket does a little to un-scary him, but overall he looks more uncomfortable than harmless. "The farmers won't want us to be found because the papers I gave them will be nullified if our little deal is discovered," he says, with a frowning, effortful compassion. "We can't count on absolute loyalty, but if we help them by not being in the barn, they should keep quiet."

The farmers' fourteen-year-old son still has a very black and white view of morality. If there's a villain in the hayloft, why doesn't Dad just go up there and get revenge for their neighbor! Have him buried in the backyard already! At very least mutilate his hand like he did to their neighbor! The boy's parents have no doubt explained that they are tolerating this for him, to keep him out of the army (and his father and his brother and his grandfather, but mostly him). Whatever the adults told him has thankfully been enough to keep him from taking matters into his own hands. He still caught Piter's attention from the lower barn at one point last evening to give him a foreboding thumbs up. A real "you're next" kind of gesture. Charming lad!

Why was he so calm? He did seem to mutter a fuss, but she had been too distracted to make out the words.

Maybe he hadn't grasped the situation? But he seemed to have heard the horses!

Hours ago, had the same situation struck, she'd simply blindly trust him. Her nervousness now, though, faithfully mirrored her shaken confidence in the other's intentions.

Did he threaten everybody he spoke to? No wonder he had enemies and a bad reputation. It was quite annoying, even for Fayeth, who happened to be someone seen as a beam of light. No pun intended.

Maybe it was the sleepless night and day. Or the sharp feeling of being betrayed. Maybe it was the fact that the protected bubble she had been in had popped and she had to find a way of standing on her two feet in this world, but her knuckles went white.

She didn't need to breathe!

"I've done nothing to you, why do you keep threatening me?" she asked. Her confusion was bare; if anyone here had any reason to be actually wary, it certainly was her. Not him. He had absolutely no right.

But maybe life had made him rougher by putting rough stones in his way. And she was too naive to wish things to be different.

She would do what she had done all her life, though never in such in scary circumstances: she'd work with what she had. She'd be thankful for what she could grasp. And she would be respectful to those who had anything with it.

Well, as respectful as she could be given the terrifying situation.

She didn't want to be married off to that foreign, terrible man! "Just stop, I want to go to that Duchy together, not by myself" her words were like a whisper; though now mostly out of fear of what was outside, not inside. She hugged her bag tightly. "How... how can I help? What are we going to do?"

@fluxofthemouth

[bonny-kookoo]

Tiny Treasures | JJK x Reader | 💜🐾(☁️)🔞

Commission for @eyerin !! Thank you sm for that request! 💖

Want to request too? Take a look at my ko-fi then! (ko-fi.com/bonnykookoo)

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader

Genre: hybrid AU, non-idol!AU, Web-Designer!Jungkook, bunny hybrid!Reader, featuring Taehyung: your local scatterbrain (TM)

Warnings: absolute fluff, it’s cotton candy I swear, so soft, so sweet, oh lord, reader is shy and sweet, Jungkook is whipped, he’s so sweet with her ugh, this is now my official emotional support Koo, some mentions of past abuse/neglect, did I mention that kook is whipped, because his heart go boom boom whenever reader so much as BREATHES, strength kink (hint), your local praise and size kink say hi as well, no smut would you believe it, possibly future parts? I dont know I just love them okay

Summary: Jungkook was a hopeless romantic believing in love at first sight- and then there was you, a bunny experiencing the tiny treasures of life for the first time. Together, with him.

It's busy in Jungkooks apartment- something thats unusual, considering that technically, the young man lives alone, doesn't really fuck around, and works at home as well ever since he took on the job as a web-designer. There was no reason to cause such an amount of stress in his home- other than the simple fact of his best friend currently pacing around, steps so fast and hard that Jungkook scared his flooring would soon melt underneath the older ones shoes he didn't take off in a rush. There were bags on his couch, bags on his counter, and a backpack somewhere in his living room- all because of;

"Okay so, she's okay with eating almost everything BUT!" Taehyung holds his finger up as if he's lecturing a child in front of him- which he's not, Jungkook is a full grown adult at this point, and looks at him unimpressed with furrowed brows as his older friend lists up things he needs to keep in mind for the hybrid he's looking after for the day. "Please make sure she's hydrated, she tends to forget to drink during the day. If she does and gets a headache there's medication in the bag that I've put on the couch- you've seen it right? Should I show you again?" He stresses, and Jungkook holds his friend's shoulders for a moment.

"Can you like, breathe for a moment please?" He says, and Taehyung nods, following the instructions for a moment before Jungkook continues. "Okay great. Now that you're not hyperventilating anymore I can tell you that yes, I've seen the bag-" He says, pointing towards the couch that's littered with so many things it seems like he's giving the hybrid up for adoption today instead of just dropping her off until tomorrow. "Second of all, I've taken care of Yoongi before and he's still alive, what's so different? Just because she's a bunny- or was it hare- wait is there a difference..?" Jungkook drawls off, suddenly thinking and not quite remembering if he's ever quite asked himself the difference of these two things. Taehyung however seems offended by that.

"Jungkook, she's a BUNNY, not a hare! That's a HUGE difference!" He whines out, and Jungkook looks at him a bit sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Oh god maybe I shouldn't go, this is a bad idea.." He says, already taking out his phone to cancel the date he has tonight, but jungkook holds the elders friend before he can make that mistake. Taehyung was a busy man, running a hybrid rehabilitation center in Seoul and Daegu- while talking to Busan's department for partnership. He really loves his job- but sometimes he gets too invested in it, just like now. He's finally got a date for himself after years of being alone; but he almost shot the poor woman down when he remembered that you, a newly rescued hybrid was staying at his home- something he never did before. Sure, he had taken over the rehabilitation of hybrids before, but he had never ever taken a case home with him. But after meeting you, seeing you, and knowing what you've been put through, his heart simply couldn't leave you at the shelter- even though he knew that it was probably the best place to be for you. But he had done what he had done now- there was no turning back with you. He couldn't leave you alone yet, so Jungkook had volunteered to look after you for the day and night, until Taehyung would pick you up the next day. The younger one had always looked after Yoongi, a cat hybrid later on adopted by Jung Hoseok, a friend of both of them; so he personally felt good about taking you in.

It was just for a day- what could go wrong?

"Come on, don't you trust me? Or is she like, super aggressive or something?" Jungkook asks, and Taehyung sighs. He hasn't told the younger one much about you, believing it was bad karma to talk about others when they weren't present. Yet this time he'd have to make an exception- because Jungkook needed to know at least some things about you and where you came from. Everything else would be unfair.

Taehyung sighed. "She's a category 3, so she's still recovering from her past home. She's just.. super shy and timid, and gets scared pretty easily so, I'm just terrified Jungkook. I know you don't want to cause any harm, but what if something happens and she just falls back? She's come so far these days, you should've seen her when I got her.." He said, and Jungkook looked at him- the eyes of the younger serious, reminding Taehyung that deep inside, he was more than just a schoolfriend. "When she got to me, she didn't even know how to use cutlery Kook. She.." But Jungkook smiled, placing a hand to his friend's shoulder in reassurance.

"I get it. I'll do my best, okay?" He says. "I promise I'll call you as soon as something's up, okay?" He says, and Taehyung nods. With a small wave he leaves the apartment to pick you up from the shelter- and Jungkook, in exchange, began to rummage through the plastic bags Taehyung had dumped onto his couch.

He was familiar with hybrids to some degree- he never really had owned one, and neither did his family. He knew that his brother owned a dog hybrid, but he had yet to bring him to family gatherings; Jungkook had never seen the puppy hybrid himself. His parents however said that she was nice, and Jungkook never really had any bad experiences with them. He sometimes visited Taehyung at work and conversed with some of the more chatty hybrids.

He was familiar with caring for them to some degree. As already stated before, he'd looked after 'grumpy-cat' Yoongi a lot back in the days when he was still in the center for rehabilitation. Jungkook knew about their different preferences in food, and their different behaviors. He, sadly, also knew about the mistreatment most of the hybrids went through before getting to the center into Taehyungs and his Staff's care- and he always hated it. The stories he sometimes heard made him sleepless during the night, made him research donation websites just to cleanse his mind for the moment.

But it only ever lasted until the next case would turn up at Taehyung's doorstep.

Quite frankly, Jungkook didn't know what he'd expected. After all, he'd never seen you in person, he simply went after Taehyungs description of you, but what was now standing at his door, was something that erased any thought he may had prior to opening it.

You were so.. delicate? Cute? He's never used the word 'cute' for a person before, because he simply thought aegyo and all of that was something girls put up for a facade of innocence. He hated that with a passion, cringing any time he saw it- yet there was, in his opinion, no other word that described you better. You were just as shy as Taehyung said, yet you forced yourself to bow a little as a greeting, taking a small step back however when Jungkook snapped out of his thoughts and opened the door fully to step aside. He threw a smile your way, hoping it could ease your nerves a little- and it seemed to work, because he saw your lips turn a bit upwards into a shy smile.

He felt as if he'd just won a ranked overwatch match against the seoul dynasty.

"Okay, I'm gonna pick you up tomorrow ASAP, okay? Are you gonna be fine here?" Taehyung asked you, and you looked over his shoulder- your bright eyes meeting Jungkooks, who was leaning against his kitchen counter, smiling boyishly while waving a little. It made you feel okay; he seemed nice enough, and after all, any friend of Taehyungs was a friend of yours. He'd taught you that. So you nodded, and Taehyung smiled, patting your head for a moment, your ears flopping to the sides before standing upright again after his hand left you. He waved goodbye and seemed a bit reluctant to leave- but you knew that Taehyung was excited for his date. He'd talked about nothing else these past days, and it made you happy to see him so giddy over something.

"So." Jungkook started, his voice fitting him, you thought. He looked fit, and comfortable to you- his oversized sweater probably big enough for you to hide in. Wait- what was that thought?! You averted your eyes immediately, ears shyly drooping backwards as you began to shuffle your fluffy socks on his wooden floor, the laminate suddenly super interesting. "Taehyung said you should have a nice healthy dinner- but I may forgot to buy groceries, so, is it okay for you to tag along?" He asked. "You can choose what you want to eat while we're at it, too." He said, and you perked up at that.

"I can?" You asked, ears slowly moving into a more confident position again, and he smiled at that achievement.

"Sure!" He exclaimed, and walked towards the door, grabbing his jacket, before he looked at you. You were staring at something- and as he followed your gaze, he saw your shoes. Simple sneakers in colors that fit your current clothes, but, was he connecting the dots correctly? He didn't want to offend you in case you were simply deep in thought, so he simply waited, slipping on his own shoes, as he watched you out of the corner of his eyes.

You really were struggling to tie your shoes.

So he simply sat down on the small step that divided his entrance from the rest of his apartment, and tapped the top of his knee. "Come here, I'll help." He said, and your eyes widened, shaking your head.

"I'll- I'll get your pants dirty.." You said worriedly, but Jungkook shook his head again.

"Don't worry about that." He said, and you hesitantly placed your shoe on his knee with just the very tip- something that made him smile a bit before he placed it down properly, tying the laces quickly.

"Sorry." You apologized, but he shook his head yet again as he tied the other.

"It's fine." He simply said, before you both got up, going outside. "Do you, uhm.." He began, nervously picking on the slight fuzz of his skin against his chin before he finished, by holding his hand out. "You know, so you don't, accidentally get lost or something. Taehyung would kill me." He laughed, and you blushed, before hesitantly taking his larger hand, holding it as he walked to the nearby grocery store with you.

Inside, it was busy as usual- but Taehyung typically didn't take you out during these hours, something about you maybe becoming overloaded by sensations and sounds. You've never been to a grocery like this before though- because while yes, it was a lot, Jungkooks hand never left yours even for a second. He calmly explained things you seemed interested in, and his entire presence calmed you down, even though you didn't really know him at all.

But your instincts were telling you that he was a good person; and until now, they had never been wrong.

"So, which one do you like?" He asked, pulling you from your thoughts as you were drifting off a little. He smiled at you, while you were looking at the shelves, pointing towards a pack of ramen. You've never tried it, but you had been interested when you saw them at Taehyungs place once or twice- however, back then you had been too shy to ask if you could maybe try it sometimes. "Hmm.. you sure about this one? It's pretty spicy sweetheart." He said, letting the petname slip as your ear flinched a bit into his direction, eyes widening a bit. Taehyung sometimes called you sweetheart as well- but somehow, in some weird way, it made you feel all tingly inside hearing it from Jungkook. "Uhm.. maybe, I can buy this one, and this chicken flavoured one- you can taste mine, and if you like it, we can switch. Okay?" He explained, and you nodded, not really listening anymore as you looked at him with an almost fascinated expression.

Taehyung had told you he had never truly taken care of a female hybrid, let alone a rehab-case such as you were. But he seemed so nice, so sweet, it was hard to imagine him not owning a hybrid- or being single. While Taehyung had never outright said that Jungkook was, you assumed so by the hints you noticed here and there. No other scent than his in his home, and you also remember Taehyung teasing the younger yesterday over the phone, saying something that at least Taehyung was getting himself some dating action.

For some weird reason, knowing that Jungkook didn't have a partner made you feel nice.

But then you remembered his words. "But- what will you eat if I eat yours?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"We'll simply switch then. I don't mind." He says, placing both packs in the shopping cart as you watched him. Your old home hadn't been too kind to you, yet you still didn't know anything else than the treatment you got back there. It was still new to you how easy going some people were, how much freedom you actually had. You've seen kids on swings last week, and a girl feeding a stray cat in an alleyway. Those were things you've never seen before.

"Okay, now the fun part." He says, and you look up at him, his head nodding towards something specific.

Icecream.

Your eyes widened seeing all the different packages and flavours, making your ears droop a bit in confusion. You were lost; what should you choose? You didn't know any of these except some flavors Taehyung had at his house. Jungkook, already connecting the dots, opens one of the doors. "Do you like fruity things? I personally like mild flavors, like vanilla." He says, picking a box of two separate containers. "How about this one?" He asks, and you nod excitedly.

"Yes please.!" You say, pretty much vibrating on the spot as Jungkook places the box into the cart, making an elderly lady next to the two of you chuckle.

"So sweet. And great manners too!" She says, before a hybrid walks up to her; his bright orange badge showing that the dog hybrid was a service worker. "Take good care of her, young man, yes?" She says, and Jungkook nods, squeezing your hand a little tighter as you both watch the lady getting escorted towards the cashiering section.

Jungkook had honestly never really thought about taking care of his own hybrid. He always worried that his friend's teasing was actually real- that he was too immature to quite take care of another living being except his own. Depp down he knew of course that he was capable of that, but insecurities sometimes still bit at his soul from the inside. He couldn't do much about that- he was a hopeless person in that department; still believing in love at first sight, and that human-hybrid relationships are nothing weird.He secretly loved romantic dramas, read shōjo mangas at the bookstore whenever he was too scared to buy them- afraid of being teased for it. He hated perfumes, enjoyed soft smells and fabrics, and even knew how to braid hair. He may looked like a typical muscle-head; with nothing filling his brain apart from protein powder and the need to work out and survive off of energy drinks and leftover cup noodles, but that wasn't really who he was. He simply liked to take care of himself, nothing more. He didn't work out for anyone but himself.

For some reason he enjoyed taking care of you like this. You were so sweet, so cute, that he couldn't help but already feel a little protective of you- that fact having only little to do with Taehyung. Maybe he simply needed a small push into the right direction to finally experience what it was like to have a hybrid, to test out what it was like to live with one.

But he didn't just want a hybrid, he noticed as he watched you carefully place the items of the shopping cart on the cash register, just like he'd asked you to do-

He wanted you.

He could feel someone staring at him. It was like it was piercing his neck, like laser dots on his skin, and it should freak him out like nothing else if it wasn't for the fact that he knew it couldn't be any other than you. He looked at the pot he was putting water in, the reflection showing your form sneakily watching him from the entrance of the kitchen. He chuckled. "Hm.." He began, dramatically sighing. "I wish there was a certain sweet bunny hybrid here to help me cook.. but I guess she's too busy.." He hummed, as he made sure the water in the pot was enough for one pack, before he turned around, your form now standing a few steps behind him. "Oh?" He said, acting surprised as you shyly smiled.

"Can I help.?" You asked, and he nodded, patting the counter to which you walked, squeaking cutely as he simply turned you around with gentle hands, lifting you up to sit between the stove on one side, and the sink on the other. You'd somehow come to the conclusion already that he was quite strong- but the short taste you got of his strength made your heart race a little. It was instinctively, really; your kind looked for partners with certain attributes, after all. They were supposed to protect you and your offspring at some point- even though that part made you look at your knees in shame, before Jungkook snapped you out of your thoughts before they could sway.

"Can you open the packages for me?" He asks, and you nod, taking them out of his hands and opening the foil carefully. You take out the still hard noodles before the flavor pack falls out, slapping on the floor as it falls down out of your hand. Jungkook however doesn't scold you- simply picks it up and gives it to you, and you look at him for a moment- watching him for any indication that he's mad. But he's not.

It's as if nothing had happened.

So you put the flavor pack and tiny oil package on top of the noodle blocks, so carefully Jungkook has to force himself not to just simply scream from how concentrated you look doing something so simple. "When the water boils, like, when it bubbles a lot, you can put these packs in, alright?" He says, and you nod, as if he's giving you instructions on how to prepare for war. He can't help himself at that moment, grinning so hard his dimples show as he reaches out to pet your head.

It's a little like Taehyung, but it feels a lot different.

With Taehyung, while you do feel safe and comfortable around him, and it feels nice, it's not at all like Jungkook. The younger one makes your heart race. He makes your pride swell, and your eyes sparkle- it's as if you've been given an award for the greatest achievement ever. You almost whine when he lets go.

So you later on put the packs into the boiling water with so much precision, immediately seeking his approval right after, to which he smiles at you. "Good job, Bunny." He says, and pets your head, absentmindedly moving the palm of his hand from the top of your head to instead cradle your cheek. Its such a soft and gentle touch that you almost go limp- closing your eyes and leaning into it. He only notices that when he looks back from the pots- now turned down a bit to a simmer as to not overcook- and his heart surely bursts in that moment.

You look so.. there's no word in Jungkooks head to properly describe the view he has, that image of you in front of him. He can't help himself- begins to trace his thumb against the soft skin, watching your ears relax and flop down. He can't imagine that someone like you could ever be done harm to; and while he doesn't know much about your past, he's sure it hadn't been pretty. It makes him want to just keep you right here, in his apartment, close to him, where he can make sure no one could ever cause you to be upset.

Both of you are abruptly pulled out of your thoughts by his phone ringing, the device so badly placed that it falls down to the floor after vibrating a few seconds. "Fuck!" He exclaims, picking it up and sighing in relief when it turns out to still be without damage. He takes on the call, and on the other side of the line, is Taehyung. He greets his younger friend, instantly asking him if you're okay- if you've eaten yet, drank anything, if you're homesick- all in one breath, it seems. Jungkook chuckles, simply placing a hand on your knee, thumb again tracing a pattern he's unsure of what its supposed to be. The warmth seeps into your skin through the fabric of your clothing. He smiles at you, and for the first time, maybe because you're feeling so.. smitten with him, you smile back. Not just a shy little lift of your lips, but a full on beaming smile, making his hand reach out to brush along your ear- internally gasping at how soft the fur is. How can something be this soft?! "Taehyung, she's fine. We're making ramen right now, she helped me cook, and afterwards we're gonna have icecream and watch a movie or something." He explains, and Taehyung claps back with something along the lines of 'but don't let her have the spicy stuff, she can't handle that-' but the younger one doesn't listen that much anymore. "Yeah yeah, listen, we're fine. Go get your girl, jesus." He laughs, and Taehyung chuckles as well, hanging up after reminding him to get you to bed at a reasonable time- as if you're a child he's taking care of.

Because that's the thing. You're not a child- and in Jungkooks eyes, you're not a pet. You're so sweet and easily interested in the simplest of things, he can't help but wonder if you had any hobbies. Did you like video games? Or drawing? Were you into books- hell, could you even read? He wanted to know so much more about you than just those tiny breadcrumbs of info he had gotten from Taehyung. He dearly hoped that maybe, maybe you would like to see him again after leaving tomorrow. He really hoped.

And as you ate, shaking your head at Jungkooks spicy ramen after tasting the broth a little from his spoon (which he did make sure to blow on as to not have you burn your tongue, bless his heart), he really did hope.

He really hoped that maybe, you felt just as happy around him as he felt around you.

It seemed that going grocery shopping, cooking, and eating icecream had taken its toll on you. Your eyes were practically falling shut every few seconds, yet you tried to stay awake as much as possible. Jungkook smiled at you, brushing some hair back before he moved your shoulder a bit. "Hey, bunny?" He asked, and you nodded, humming a noise of yes, you heard him. He chuckled. "You'll have to get up baby. I have to prepare the couch for you." Typically, it would be normal to give a guest the bed- if he was being a gentleman. But that was what he was being; because his couch was the most comfortable thing in his entire apartment for that matter. Yet maybe it was the sleep inside your bones making you drowsy, but you shook your head. "Hm?" He asks, and you suddenly move.

You shuffle around, suddenly hugging him tightly, head hidden in his chest as you rub your nose against the soft fabric of his shirt for a moment. "Don't wanna." You complain, and he swears he dies and gets ressurected all at once seven times in total at your next words. "Wanna sleep with 'koo." You drawl, and he knows he should not let you. You're not thinking clearly- but he can't deny you anything when you're like this, it seems. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, tightly, with no chance of escape.

So he gently picks you up after turning off the TV, bringing you to his bedroom, where he puts you on the bed, your tired form struggling to stay seated. He picks out a shirt of his to wear, and a pair of your shorts out of your backpack Taehyung has left for you. "Sweetheart, can you change for me?" He asks, and you simply let yourself playfully fall ontop of his mattress, making him sigh. You're going to be the death of me. "Oh really now?" He says, before he crawls over you, with the intention to tickle you a little awake- but he stops in his tracks. In fact, time seems to stop as well, as your eyes stare at him, so big and full of wonder he almost can't stop himself from looking at your lips.

But its you who shyly- and so quickly he almost doesnt catch it- pecks his lips before sneakily slipping out his grasp, taking your clothes with you into the bathroom, leaving him on the bed. He sits down, touching his lips for a second, absolutely unsure if he'd just experienced this, or if he had just had a fever dream of some sorts.

It's only when he notices you don't emerge from the bathroom, that he moves. He gently knocks at the wooden door, asking for you, but you don't answer. "I'm gonna open the door, okay?" He says, and does so seconds after, spotting you sitting on the tiled floor- now dressed in his sweater and your shorts, ready for bed. He notices however how you're hiding in the sweater- the hood covering your ears, while your hands shield your face. "Whats wrong?" He asks as he squats down in front of you, his hands gently pulling yours away from your face. You're not crying, thank god, but the look on your face speaks entire novels about how embarrassed you feel.

"M'sorry." You say, and pout, and he shakes his head.

"Don't be." He simply answers, helping you stand up after a moment. "Why do you feel bad?" He asks, and you shrug your shoulders.

"I just.." You start, but suddenly your eyes grow glossy. "I miss Taehyung-" You say, and Jungkook's heart drops for a moment. "-but I also don't wanna go home tomorrow." You finish, and Jungkook blinks twice, before he looks at you, confused. You didn't want to leave? Him? "I.. no, it's fi-"

"Say it." He demands- its not harsh, its not even loud, its almost just a whisper, tuneless words pressed out in a breath of air. "Don't keep it in- say it." He prompts you, and you swallow, not looking at him.

"I wanna stay with you." You say.

And he swears, the pain in his heart was the sweetest he'd ever felt.

The next day, after breakfast, Jungkook and you sit on his living room floor, him teaching you how to build a rubber powered plane- the one's he used to make as a kid. He'd kept a kit in his apartment back when he moved out of his family home but never got around to really use it. It was the perfect opportunity for you to enjoy the things you had missed out on in your life. He loved the way you so intensely watching his every move as he showed you how to put the pieces together. "And that's gonna fly?" You ask curiously, leaning over a bit as to get a better look at it.

"Hmhm." He says, holding it up, before giving it to you. "Here, turn this part until you can't anymore." He says, and you start twisting it for a while. "Don't worry, you can't break it." He says when you hesitate a little. He highly doubts you'll be able to snap the rubber band. "Tight?" He asks, checking, before he nods, standing up. "Lets go fly it outside!" He says, opening the glass door to the small backyard of his apartment. "And- Go!" he says, and you throw it just how he showed you minutes prior; letting it fly for a good moment before it landed.

"It flew!" You exclaimed happily, and he laughed as well, congratulating you as if you had just won a competition. He held you tightly to his body for a moment after you had jumped into his arms- and that was how you just stood there for a moment, simply existing, holding each other. For you, this was a moment of realizing that no, you're not alone. You're not useless, you're not just a pet, you're not just existing for someone's enjoyment. You had this one person at your side now, someone you could count on, someone to make you feel safe. And for him? Weirdly enough, he felt like the male lead of a romantic drama show- finally getting the happy ending he always craved in his life. He never knew what exactly he always wanted from his time here on earth. Was it success? Was it money? A big apartment, a nice home, a lot of friends? No, it was building a blanket fort with you in his living room. It was going to the grocery store with you, protecting you from big dogs that scared you, or holding you during the night. Every cheesy romantic thing he could imagine, now always featured you in his head; and it just, fit. It fit perfectly.

You fit into his life just perfectly.

It's later that day when Taehyung picks you up that he realizes that yes, he's positively in love with you. Because how can he not fall in love with those glistening eyes, hand waving goodbye for now because of course he can't just keep you like he wants to. There's paperwork involved, and your things need to be moved to his place- all of that needing to wait for social services to check his home, so that they can make sure he's really the right fit for you. It's then that he finally lets everything sink in, finally lets him think about what's going to happen, whats going to change.

And for the first time, he couldn't wait for it. He couldn't wait for things to change.

Jungkook baked you a small cake for your welcoming into his home- finally yours as well, as you hug Taehyung for the last time, the older friend waving before the door closes, Jungkooks arms instantly pulling your back into his chest. He leans his head down, kissing your shoulder, before he runs his sensitive lips over the so unbelievably soft fur of your ears. Three weeks had passed, yet to him it had felt like an entire year. Jungkook was sometimes impatient, and waiting had been pure torture for him. So now, as he was finally able to hold you again, he felt his entire stress vaporize into nothingness.

You giggled, before turning around, hugging him fully, and rubbing your face into his sweater, as if to get your scent onto him. Which was exactly your plan- after all, he was your human now, officially yours, so everyone should know that. The rumble in his chest that was his chuckle made you smile widely, grinning as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest.

Oh may god have mercy on his soul!

He leaned downwards, finally capturing your lips with his, the first real long kiss to be shared between the two of you. Both of you melted into the sweet gesture, your ears falling down lazily as he showered you in affection; kisses to your nose, your cheeks, and your lips again. He continued until the corners of your eyes gathered tears from laughing so much.

This was how you were supposed to be. You were never supposed to cry because you were upset-

the only tears you should ever have to shed, should be tears of happiness.

(c) Bonny-Kookoo. Please do not translate, re-post or claim as your own. Thank you for reading- and please stay happy and healthy.

[all-things-fic]

Rekindled

A/N: Firstly, I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who nominated me as November Author of the Month. I wasn’t expecting that at all and it was a lovely surprise!  Secondly, here is Rekindled. Hope you all enjoy it!

This was originally meant to be for @majorharry​‘s 20k challenge, but I failed on that front. It’s a long one so grab yourself a brew / beverage of choice and get comfy!

I’m about to disappear again as I usually do and start working on my Christmas fic, as well as those Quarantine Harry updates.

Tonight had started out like any other Saturday evening. 

You had been out with friends. Cosy little pub off a cobbled backstreet, in a secluded corner. Very British. Very cramped. All old wood and leather bound seats. The slight smell of stale beer in the air and plenty of chatter that sometimes had you shouting to ensure the friend sitting two people away from you was able to hear. 

This was a pub that you frequented for quite a while now. A pub that made it so some in your friendship group could grab a proper ale, while others opted for more of a fruity alcoholic beverage. A real all rounder. Did a nice roast on Sunday - eat in or takeout, choice was yours - for a reasonable price by London’s standards. 

The minute he had walked in, you had noticed him. You could recognise his hunched shoulders anywhere. Forever silently willing him to stand up straight and embrace the way his height made him tower over some of his friends. Rather than have him try and make himself smaller. Part of you believed it was to buy him time so he wouldn’t get noticed whenever he knew he was going to be in particular place for longer than an hour.

He had been joined by a male friend. Someone you also knew quite well. Someone who you had seen quite recently actually. An art showing over at Cob Gallery being the reason for your meeting which hadn’t happened too long ago. You remembered the invite being shoved through your letterbox, a far cry from when he used to shunt you a quick text and write your name at the bottom of the guest list using Sam’s kohl eyeliner on the evening of the event itself.

You’d taken the piss out of him that afternoon, a quick phone call telling him that he was “no longer the Tomo Campbell I know”. 

That had been two weeks ago. So, you knew it would be rude of either you, or him, to not acknowledge the other. And you knew he would be the one to cave in. 

And you were right.

Tomo’s friendly brown eyes had glanced at you one too many times, over Harry’s shoulder for him to not give you - or anyone else who may have made the meeting slightly awkward - away. 

The continuous trailing of his gaze had in fact caused Harry to chuckle awkwardly, joking at how he wouldn’t let Sam know of his wandering eye as they shared a night on the town. The joke fell short though, as did his chuckle, when at the last glance over Harry twisted his body around to see what all the fuss was about as he leaned against the bar and let his eyes fall onto yours.

You broke his gaze, reaching forward for your balloon glass full of gin and pressed your face as far into it as possible. A feeling filled you that made you hope the hot flush you felt underneath your skin hadn’t started to give away your unnecessary panic. 

See things with you and Harry hadn’t ended badly. In fact, it was more like a fizzle. A bit like the sweet that pops against your tongue. Sometimes you enjoyed it and other times it was unfulfilling, some would say annoying. The latter explained the ending.

No big fights. No fat, hot tears rolling down cheeks. No loss of voices from slanging matches and screaming until the early hours. It just... Ended. 

That fizzle was what made it amicable. You both breaking it off to go and do your own thing. Neither openly keeping up to date with the other, but still absolutely aware of what was going on. In your case that was a lot easier, in his not so much. However, Harry somehow managed to master the art of leading questions without seeming too much of a beg with mutual friends.  

As he looked on at you taking the longest sip from your drink, he had smiled awkwardly before he allowed his eyes to roam the scene of your group of friends and tried to analyse what met his gaze. A group of eight, men heavily outweighing the women with their five to your genders three. 

He would definitely class himself a liar if he was asked about where his mind had gone, and he said that it hadn’t gone to queries around relationship statuses and potential partnerships with any of the men around the table.

He eyed them, all five of them. Definitely wasn’t the guy three people away, neither was it the guy sat diagonally opposite you. They were blonde, definitely not your type. Well, blondes hadn’t been your type the last time he had been between your legs.

His eyes had been zoned in on the guy that had his back facing him, he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you. Instead he was seated in the opposite seat, but one. Better positioning for someone who wanted to obtain a cheeky glance and still be inconspicuous to the group around him.

“I’m gonna have to go and say hello,” Tomo pulled Harry out of his trance, his eyes lifting up from the beer mat that he had been tapping agitatedly against the bar top once he’d turned away from the scene. 

“‘S fine wi’me, mate,” Harry softly smiled, reaching for his drink and taking a large sip. 

“Come an’ get it over with, H.” 

Harry had quietly eyed Tomo after his open ended suggestion of joining him. His eyes slightly sceptical at the proposal but somehow his legs took over his decision making as he trudged behind his artist friend and got introduced to those faces he didn’t know and acknowledged the ones that he did.

Pulling up a pew at the table had been a lot easier for Harry than he had expected. Dragging the wooden stool to sit himself in between you and the guy to his right, who he now knew to be Conor and the person he really wanted to know the name of was Joe. Joe was a wanker- well, banker. Same difference, right? 

Conversation wasn’t always smooth sailing. The larger group helped however. Also helped him get his moments with you and you with him. Moments that neither of you had known you needed before being sat with his knee brushing yours, due to how cramped your table had suddenly become. 

And it was sweltering now. The bare knee of your ripped jeans, knocking against Harry’s bare knee from his ripped jeans as he edged himself closer to the table wanting to catch what the topic of conversation was down at the easily the “laddier” end of the table. 

Harry had fit right in. Of course his demeanour changed with certain people. Those he had already been in the presence of those years previous were immediately hit with morbid delivery and sarcastic humour, while others were met with his sometimes hard to crack shell. 

And like always as the night had gone on the crowd had tapered off. Some had decided to go onto a club, an offering your declined not wanting to spend the night with people rubbing up against you and feeling like one of the oldest people in the room.

Some of your friends had gone back to their other commitments, like Tomo who made it quite clear he didn’t want to miss his “curfew” that Sam had given him considering he was the one on swimming lesson duty in the morning. 

That ended up leaving you and Harry. Surprisingly a pairing that you hadn’t expected to happen that evening and even more surprising, one that you weren’t particularly dreading.

You knew it had something to do with the gin, and definitely had something to do with the tequila. 

Part of you was thankful for the less than responsible drinking habits you had taken that evening. It allowed you to remain calm as your ex-boyfriend sat across from you looking like time was on his side and aging was being kind to him.

It was definitely being kinder to him than it was to you, anyway. 

Bastard. 

Conversation had been a mixture of light and heavy. Harry showing you a series of different pictures he had taken on his travels as he jetset around the world with his album and his modelling contract (that he adamantly assured you wasn’t a modelling contract), and basically just his very healthy bank balance.

The heavy had been you bitching about the contract project you had been working on and asking him if he would be willing to potentially commit a serious crime with you against one of your colleagues. He’d quipped he probably wasn’t suitable but he was sure he knew a guy. 

At one point, his eyes had dropped down to your pedicured toes in your black strappy heels. When he managed to drag his eyes away for your feet,  and rested his chin on the inside heel of his palm, you knew he wanted to say something. 

“‘M pretty sure we have matching pedis,” he groused, voice so low that if you hadn’t been watching his mouth you wouldn’t have caught a word of what he had just said.

Eyes flicking up to his green gaze, you saw the light shimmering through them. Clearly he was amused by your expression of shock and potential bemusement from his statement.

“Sod off,” you chided, pushing gently at his arm. “You’re joking.”

“‘M not darl-“ he cut himself off with a clear of his throat. “‘M not, an’ if yer lucky later I might take m’socks off to prove it an’all.”

“Not sure if I like the insinuation of there being a later.” You paused for a small amount of time, before adding, “Nor the confidence in how you said it.” 

“God loves a trier and so did you, once.” 

He eyed you from the corner of his vision, mouth wrapped around the lip of his glass as he knocked back what was left of the alcoholic contents inside. 

You were sure he hadn’t meant to let that one slip but there was no way he was going to let his expression give him away and silently confirm with you that thought. 

How had the two of you picked up as if you hadn’t missed a beat? 

“You never did mind me keeping them on though, did yer?”

That was enough to break his gaze. To cause a silence you didn’t know how to fill. To suddenly make you feel incredibly parched as if you hadn’t been necking gin after gin, all evening. 

“How yer getting ‘ome?”

His question cut through it all. His voice of concern, matching his watchful gaze as he looked up at you from the empty glass he had begun twirling on the mahogany wood. 

“Was just gonna Uber it back.”

“‘M a fifteen minute walk from ‘ere, d’ya know tha’?”

“I do know that,” you acknowledged, eyes looking over at him and seeing the way his hair had begun to curl close to his temples from the way he perspired in the heat of the pub. 

“‘Course you do. Done that walk a fair few times ain’t we?”

You hummed. The feeling of your lips lifting into a soft smile at the memories of the two of you walking hand in hand through the dark London streets. Harry with his head down, trying to look inconspicuous. Also, so he could watch his feet and try his best not to trip up over them. 

The times he’d done that thing you loved. Where he would forgo holding your hand and instead walk slightly behind you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and across the top of your chest. His lips heavy against your hair as he hid his face and chuckled breathily against the shell of your ear when he hadn’t been watching his feet and indeed, tripped. It was always inevitable. 

“So wha’s another nigh’?”

And really what was another night? Other than potentially a messy morning. 

Not before long you were wrapping the chain handle of your bag across your body and tottering out of the booth you had occupied all night. 

Silently you had battled with yourself as to whether you should use the bathroom, but didn’t think you needed it considering how you hadn’t had the rush of pressure usually felt when you were really desperate to relieve yourself.

Shame the feeling didn’t last as you felt a huge gust of cold wind, thanks to London autumn air, washing over you. 

With your arms folded around your body as you walked, you tried your best to shield yourself as the lights of passing cars hurt your tired eyes. Harry had been talking to you about all sorts of rubbish, filling in the gaps of dead air that weren’t taken up by the noise around your both.

“My shoes are going to be fucking ruined,” you grumbled, hearing the sound of muddy stones clacking and crunching underneath your heels. 

Harry chuckled at your obvious disdain, keeping himself close to you in the dimly lit area. The stride to his walk was confident, a little more power behind it than unsteady. He had consumed drinks, but not enough that he didn’t realise how close both he and you were to his home.

As you walked, your eyes surveyed the area. A group of people were getting closer, a few hoods lifted making it hard for you to figure out their make up. 

Before you could give yourself time to think, you unravelled your folded arms and reached down for Harry’s hand. 

“Think we could cross here,” you spoke, a chatter to your voice both from the cold and this unusual anxious feeling. Your eyes darted over the road, left and right before you turned as the group approached you. 

A boisterous boom of laughter left one of the groups mouth, causing you to sharply look back down the street. The grip of Harry’s hand against yours changed, his fingers taking your traditional hand hold to one of interlocking digits. 

He felt moved by the way you appeared to still hold the desire to be protective over him. 

“‘M alrigh’,” he pulled you to him, using his hand and causing you to turn your front and press into his side. “Jus’ let ‘em pass us.”

You silently nodded.

“‘S just a couple’a lads walking ‘ome after a night out,” he mumbled. “‘S all it is. You’re alright.” 

This feeling felt foreign as you felt a tightness in your chest while you stood still with him in the middle of the street. You hadn’t expected to feel any sort of hesitation but you, like everyone else, had heard about the incident which had taken place with him. Virtually on the doorstep of his own home too.

Harry offering you comfort and reassurance just as quick as you were to do so for him, had you finding a weird source of strength and confidence. He welcomed the pressing of your forehead to his cheek, knowing if he tilted his head slightly his lips could brush so tenderly against your forehead, your temple. He would most likely get a smell of your shampoo, wondering if you still used the same as before. 

The grip of his hand loosened against yours, his clammy palm, which felt soothingly warm, ran up against the long sleeve of your top. It curled around your neck, holding you securely to him, before he wrapped his arm around you.

Then he dropped his lips, them pressing to your temple and then lower to your cheekbone. He lingered, his breathing slightly quivered as the noise from the group got louder. 

You lifted your head slightly, Harry rearing up just in time to ensure you didn’t headbutt him. His chin was soft as he looked down at you; it took the edge off. His eyes were manic as they moved, there was no mistaking it but everything else about him came off so calm. 

He blew out his shaky sigh, causing you to dart your eyes over his and gently push up onto your tiptoes in your heels to softly kiss his lips. You knew he wasn’t expecting it, you didn’t even know what you were doing before you did it. Yet, you relaxed the minute he drew you even closer using the arm he had curled around your upper back to hold you close.

A wolf whistle caused you to smile against his lips, as he did the same. His gentle breathy laugh bouncing against your lips as he chanced it and pressed pecks against your lips in quick succession. 

“Evening lads,” Harry nodded his head once he came up for air, making sure he got a good look of two of them and making sure they knew that he had. They cheered in praise at the two of you and your public display, threw out a couple of slightly lewd and alcohol fused comments at the scene. One even going as far as to take the red and white striped scarf from around his neck and whip it furiously above his head. “Someone’s ‘appy. The Arsenal must’ve ‘ad a win.”

You nodded as you eyed them, completely embarrassed by the way you had misread a group of loud football fans for violent thugs. You weren’t necessarily far wrong, but still. 

Chattering teeth caused Harry to pull you close to him. “Let's get you in before you catch your death.” 

***

Shoes had been left at the door. 

The aching balls of your feet grateful for the cool wooden flooring and curling into the luxurious fabric of the rugs currently beneath them. 

You’d watched as Harry toed off his obscenely dirty Vans, and walked ahead of you towards the back of the house. The place where his envious lounge and open plan kitchen could be found.

Harry’s home had this way of being welcoming, no matter how long it had been since you had last graced its presence. You assumed he’d made it this way for a reason, especially when that reason was his way of life. Leaving for long periods of time to then return again, to pick right up where he had left off. 

And in many ways, that was how you felt about the current situation. 

Handbag now discarded at your feet, you sat with your side resting against the back of Harry’s teal velvet couch. Surrounded by expensive scatter cushion after expensive scatter cushion, a collection he had amassed during your time apart. 

He was playing the playlist. Not just any playlist, the playlist. The one he would always turn on, volume low, so it was more of a hum than anything else after you’d gotten back from a night on the tiles and fancied a night cap. 

You didn’t need to zone in on the sounds. It so happened that you had heard the playlist so many times before that you didn’t need to have it blasting through the speakers to know the track list. It was burned into your brain and would be for a very long time.

The worst thing of all was that he knew. He just knew. 

His lips had taken on this quirk. Slightly upturned more so on one side of his face than another as he stood at the kitchen island, feeling your eyes watch him as he put together his perfected cheese on toast supper.

It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. A large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon held loosely in your hand as you whispered along to the song playing in the background, mouth watering at the thought of the carby goodness Harry was preparing for you both under the grill of his oven.

The smell that filled your senses was delightful and exactly what you needed to soak up the alcohol you had previously consumed, never mind the alcohol you were about to. 

“Do you want any brown sauce on yours, or ketchup?” You heard him talk louder as the tray he’d been cooking on clattered against his oven hob. 

You stayed silent as you watched him, tea towel over his shoulder as he plated up your toast while his mouth barely sang along to the playlist. Gently lifting the bread off the grill before letting it drop quickly from his grip to the plate because of how hot it was. 

He looked up at you from under his brow, hair fallen into a middle part around his face. His eyes enjoyed the way your legs had curled up beneath you as you rested your right cheek onto your hand and fondly watched him.

You seemed relaxed to him, albeit amused. 

“Don’t even think about laughing at me when ‘m cooking for you.”

You smiled - cheese on toast was hardly cooking - pulling your glass of wine to your lips and taking a sip. “Don’t know why you don’t just get a knife and fork, you numpty.”

“Saves on the washing up doing it this way,” he winced as he dropped another slice to the second plate. 

“And makes you lose your fingerprints in the process.

Harry shook his head as he pressed his thumb to his lips and licked the sore burn, before he gently blew against it. “Never did answer my question,” he reminded, wiping his hands on the towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Ketchup’s fine. Ta.”

Watching him reach across for the bottle of Heinz, you saw him squirt the sauce onto your plate and then saw him do the same to his own. 

Seemingly happy with his work, he whipped the towel off his shoulder and to the side, before scooping up the two plates and striding over to you with ease. 

“Voila,” he spoke, offering you the answer to your predicted hangover prayers, in cheese on toast form.

Reaching forward, you gently took the plate off his hands with both of yours and let your eyes drop down to the melted goodness. Keeping your eyes down you took in the decoration that Harry had added. He’d taken to drawing a smiley face onto the top of the cheese using the ketchup.

“You’re such a silly sod sometimes,” you spoke, lifting your eyes as you watched him drop down onto the couch next to you and get himself comfortable.

Legs up on the coffee table in front of him, almost horizontal with his plate gently resting atop his rounded stomach. Head tipped back and vision lazy, his lips tilted up into a crooked smile as he looked over at you. 

“‘S it okay?”

“Looks it,” you replied, lifting up the toast and taking the biggest bite you could muster. Your nose came into contact with some sauce from your hunger-driven vigour. “Proof is in the tasting though, I s’pose,” you continued, mouth full and covered by your hand to avoid him seeing the chewed up contents. 

You hummed as you closed your eyes, enjoying the taste of the simplistic home cooked food and melted goodness. So simple in taste, but so effective. 

From where Harry lounged, he softly watched you. All relaxed, closed eyes, with a drop of tomato ketchup decorating the end of your nose. 

Before you had the chance, and he couldn’t fight himself, Harry reached up to gently swipe at the sauce and remove it from your skin.

You opened your eyes, blinking over at him as he pressed his thumb between his lips and licked away the sauce he had retrieved. His eyes were mischievous as they glanced at you before he took a bite out of his own food and savoured the taste.  

The groan that left his throat as he chewed was a sound familiar to you in other capacities, causing you to squeeze your legs together and forcefully take another bite of your own toast.

“Tell you what? If there’s one thing I do, ‘s make a bloody good cheese on toast.”

You smirked, amused by his boasting. “Nothing like a slice of conceited-ness as a platter cleanser, for afters.”

“Summat much more appealing for afters, don’t worry about tha’, darling. Got you sorted.” 

***

Bellies full and content, you slipped further down onto Harry’s couch. The two of you finding yourself closer together ask you basked in the warmth of Harry’s home.

“You weren’t lying when you said your nails matched mine,” your voice was sleepy as you spoke, right foot hitting Harry’s left slightly as you brought up your earlier conversation at the pub.

He chuckled into your hair, watching you lift your foot and gently place it atop of his. He made a space for it, moving his right leg so that there was an even bigger gap between his feet to slot yours between.  

“I think mine's a bit lighter to be honest,” you continued, eyes scrutinising his painted nails as much as they could from down the length of your body and his. 

“That’s some bullshit,” Harry groused, rubbing his feet gently against yours to warm them, his voice causing his chest to vibrate against your head as it rested there  “I even had it on m’ hands but I’ve been picking at it. Look.”

Harry obnoxiously held his hand in front of your vision, wiggling his fingers causing you to reach for his fingers and hold his hand still. Sure enough, he was true to his word, presenting you with chipped nail polish that was nothing more than the odd tiny dot against his clean nails. 

You smirked when he pushed them slightly closer to your face than intended, “Alright, think you’ve proven your point.”

Hand knocked back he brought it forward again, “‘M not so sure, try again.”

The only response you could muster up was a giggle fit for a schoolgirl, Harry’s response to pull you even closer as he softly smiled. 

A silence overtook you both, as you closed your eyes and let yourself become more intune with the music playing around you. 

Your face was pressed into the side of his neck able to inhale his worn in aftershave and the soft startings of stubble down the side of his throat. 

The silence was heavy and you knew exactly why. Listening to the base of the song across his speakers mixing with your staggered breathing and rising pulse. 

You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t like it needed attention drawn to it. Yet, the words were tumbling off your lips regardless. 

“This song always makes me…you know.”

The words were mumbled but of course he caught them because he did know. But it was whether he wanted to go there. 

The thought of talking about sex and the sex you had together in a coherent state wasn’t ideal. He wouldn’t have anything to blame his honesty on, if he wasn’t more inebriated than he currently found himself.

“Think we need some more wine for tha’,” he mumbled, lips pressed to your forehead as you hummed in agreement and felt him begin to shift to raise himself from the couch to retrieve a bottle.

***

More wine wasn’t a good idea and you knew it. From the way your tongue was much looser and your lips a lot more numb now. 

The two of you had begun to dance on a weird ledge after he’d refilled your glass. The kind where you were openly flirting and backbiting against the other to try and see who could inflict the moment that had the two of you wincing. 

“Who caught your eye while I was out of the picture?”

“Who didn’t catch yours?”

Harry was sitting on the couch, side pressed into the back of the couch. Leaning with his elbow and allowing his face to rest  in the palm of his hand as he looked at you.

“Alright,” he stressed with a raise to his eyebrows and a quirk to his lips. 

You were a bit flustered due to the way your back bite to him revealed how you were actually caught up in his business of seeing other people when you tried to act like you didn’t care.

Clearing his throat Harry adopted a soft tone to break you out of your fluster.

“There was one girl. Took her to dinner two times.”

You held his eyes with yours, watching the way he slowly smirked, “But you already know that don’t ya?”

Before you could stop yourself, you threw the throw cushion sitting to the right of you, at him.

“Watch the wine,” he said around a laugh, as he raised his wine glass into the air and pushed the cushion to the floor before it had a chance of creating him a cleaning catastrophe in the early hours. 

“Hate you,” you mumbled, turning to your right to look at him from where you had reached forward to put your wine glass down to the table. Before you sat back you ran your index finger against the rim of your wine glass and tapped your nail gently against the base. 

“‘s tha’ why you’re sat eating cheese on toast and drinking wine on my sofa at almost 2am,” he spoke against the rim of his glass, knocking back what was remaining inside.

“I’ve been coerced to be here,” you replied, watching him reach forward, raising his eyebrows at your false suggestion. When he sat back against the couch he was biting back his smile, his eyes shining and crinkles deeply set in the corners.

“Know where the door is,” he goaded, raising his eyebrows again, arm raising to point in the direction of his hallway. He waited for your response and in that time leaned forward towards the coffee table once more, grabbing the wine bottle and topping you up before moving onto refilling his own.

Your eyes dropped down to the rich red liquid as it sloshed against the clear glass. While his words were telling you to leave, his actions were doing the complete opposite. 

Filling the silence he asked, “So, how many dinners am I competing with?”

“Three” you mumbled as you lifted your drink and took a sip for courage. 

Harry’s head titled as he surveyed you, “Bloody hell you didn’t hang around!”

“I have no more cushions left,” you spoke to his cheeky comment with a light hearted threat of throwing something at him for his brazen clap back. “Only my wine.”

He smiled at your warning to throw it all over him before he drawled, “And we wouldn’t wanna waste tha’”

You hummed in agreement, freely taking yet another sip. Finally, something you agreed on. 

Harry kept his eyes on you, waiting. The two of you almost seeing who would cave in first to try and dig for more information on the relations of the other while you were apart. What he really wanted to know was how many men he was competing against. Was it one man three times, or three separate men? 

With all the questions buzzing around his head, he knew it would be him who would give in. 

He was correct. 

“Gonna let me ‘ave a look then? Pull ‘em up on your phone. ‘S only fair. Mine was taken out of my hands.”

His ambiguous comment alluded to the paparazzi pictures of him that had been splashed all over the tabloid online outlets, as well as every other social media platform known to man. 

You didn’t hesitate, the alcohol in your bloodstream almost encouraged you as you reached for your bag at your feet and took out your phone. Said liquid confidence even helped in your handing over of the phone. “Pass codes the same,” you said, as Harry stared at you before he dropped his eyes down to the screen and tried the first code that came to his mind, your birthday.

The screen shook at him, causing a sheepish smile to pull up onto his lips as he thought about his second guess. He punched in the code of your mother’s birthday and unlocked the phone within a short five seconds.

You did notice the stall to his movements, clearly realising how part of this was wrong. It wasn’t his, or your, business to know everything in such detail.

Sensing his hesitancy also, you told him where to find a photograph if he was so desperate for a nose; on your private Instagram page. He took that as a small victory cause he knew you still had pictures of him on your profile that hadn’t been taken down.

You gave him names, knowing that it was an invasion of privacy for the men in question but equally not caring. His thumb was fast as it typed and spelt out the name into the search bar. Harry also not caring at how desperate he was to see his competition. 

“Hold this for me,” he said, passing over his wine glass so that he could cup your phone in both his hands, his undivided attention firmly on his foe. You looked on as you saw him zoom in on the picture of guy number two, who had the chance of a third date.

He was silent as he looked and swiped and read comments. He didn’t know if this was the type of man he was expecting. Had he even been expecting anyone at all?

Running his eyes over the pictures he was greeted with what he could only describe to be your average City man. All overcoats and expensive suits. 

Looks wise, he understood. Perfect five o’clock shadow. Seemed tall enough in photos. Obviously liked a gym session or two. However there was one thing about him that just looked so out of place- 

Breaking the silence, he said, “Can’t even do a tie properly can he?”

“Neither can you,” you shot back.

“Don’t have to when you have someone willing to help.” 

He looked at you from under his brow to see if you were going to correct him. When he realised you weren’t, he continued, “Never been tempted to fix his,” he asked, swiping across to look at another picture. 

“He hasn’t worn a tie on a date yet,” you responded.

Harry zoned in on the use of the word yet.

“What’s he drive?” He asked randomly, continuing the swipe through the pictures with his right thumb. 

“Range Rover Sport.”

“Probably on finance,” he spoke his comeback quickly, expressing his true feelings. It wasn’t going to be on finance but no one could blame him on wanting to throw a cheap shot in some way. “Doesn’t really seem the type to be blessed with the big dick energy. Overcompensating somehow.”

You found yourself biting down against your lips, trying to stifle a laugh. His pettiness has reared itself in less than ten minutes and you could see the way it wove through his features, with a quirk to his eyebrows and a scrunch of his nose. He was dismissive and you supposed he had every reason to be, you were after all sat on his couch. 

“Why do you really think I’m giving you another try,” you smirked, nails tapping at your glass again.

He held your gaze, “You planning on testing me out, seeing if it still works?”

“Might do,” you took another sip of your drink. “Depends if I have the energy.”

“Why do you think I gave you summat to eat?”

You breathed out a laugh as your mouth fell, right hand reaching up to slap him across the top of his arm. He seemed pleased with himself as he locked your phone and loosely held it out to you.

“‘S enough of looking at tha’,'' he hummed, licking gently at his lips. “How did you meet him?” 

Again a breathy laugh left your lips as you stared at him, incredulously. Harry’s eyes easily held yours as he waited on your answer.

“You aren’t in the least bit interested,” you licked your lips, the taste coating them slightly bitter from the lingering wine residue. “Don’t know why you’re trying to make it seem as if you are.” 

“Humour me, darling,” he mused, lips softly lifting. “Or humour him, whichever you prefer.” 

And you know you shouldn’t be doing this, laughing at the expense of someone else in such a way. You saw the larger swallow from Harry too and you knew he was feeling the same. 

However, here you were, giving eyes to a man that you didn’t think would get to see you in such a way again. 

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Cause at least one of us would make it worth your while.” 

You felt your breathing quicken as you held Harry’s eyes. He did nothing to deter you from holding his gaze. 

“You have to stop being so nice,” he added. “If he isn't doing anything for you, that’s okay.”

Reaching forward you rid your hands of your phone, letting it slide against his coffee table. “And do you not think you slightly have an unfair advantage?”

“I think,” he paused, his eyes looking at you. “I think we had something good.”

“Had being the operative word-“

“And I think we could have something good again. In fact I know we could.”

You stalled at his words. The confidence behind them. It was admirable how he was shooting his shot. Especially given you knew how inside he was most likely quaking with nerves.

“Tell him no.”

His words made you chest feel tight, his hand reaching across the distance between the two of you on the sofa. His palm facing up, you slowly lifted your hands to sit in his.

No sooner had your skin come in contact, Harry clasped his hand around yours and softly stroked his thumb to the back of it. He dipped down, lips meeting your knuckles before he tugged at you so softly you almost felt you had imagined it.

He wanted you closer, the arms length distance now too much as he started to show himself to you. His pettiness and his affection, they strangely won you over. Stoked something within you that had you edging further towards him.

Hand unlatching from yours, he lifted his left arm and wrapped it loosely around the back of your neck. With little persuasion you dropped your forehead against his jaw again. 

Harry’s swallow was audible as his fingertips softly stroked at your shoulder. His breath softly fanned against the skin of your temple, his lips turning to press the faintest kiss to your hairline.

“Tell him to piss off.”

You chuckled, breathily, head knocking itself back to look up at him. Eyes light with a sense of joyous infatuation at the moment you found yourself in.

Harry shifted, his right hand quickly discarding both your wine glasses before it placed itself against your hot cheek. The coolness of his slender fingers soothing and welcomed. 

“Tell him no,” he breathed, as his lips hovered close to yours, as he tilted your face upwards to meet his. 

With your eyes closed you felt a sense of guilt, for some unknown reason. It wasn’t like you were committed to anyone outside of the situation that you found yourself in, but you felt slightly wrong for what you were doing. Harry sensed it, able to read the downturn of your lips for what it was. He nudged his nose gently against yours, allowing his eyes to take their time in admiring your expressions and waited on the unnecessary internal conflict to ease. 

“Want me to tell him?” He asked, leaving breathy and wet kisses down your cheek, and along your jawline as you tilted your head back. “‘S not a problem.”

Your mind was swimming as you found yourself sinking back into the couch beneath you. Harry’s voice melting you as he continued talking, “Really get him to take the hint that you’re not interested.”

He kept his face buried against the underside of your chin as it pointed up at the ceiling, hands tracing down your arms and cupping at your hands to press them into his hair as he sucked at your skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hummed, scratching at the back of his head, enjoying the feel of his soft locks beneath your touch. 

Harry deeply groaned as you pulled at the strands, “What’s that?”

“Trying to have your way with me when I’m under the influence,” you joked, quirk to your lips. “Always was that little bit more placid that way.” 

You felt the way his lips moved from underneath your chin, finding the corner of your mouth, before he pulled up to look at you. He eyed you, all heavy lidded and messy lips. “You’re not tha’ pissed are ya?”

“No.”

“Then I’m definitely more than jus’ trying.” He reached for your face, lifting your chin and angling it how he wanted. “‘M taking, ‘m begging,” he spoke confidently, unashamed. 

His lips were dominant as they engulfed yours, a groan leaving your throat as your kiss was messy from the offset. His lips puckered and pulled, drawing you closer to him as he breathed through his nose and gave you his tongue.

Your chest was heaving as he skimmed his lips against your face, mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck once more as you bit down on your bottom lip and tried not to laugh. 

“Charming of you to want your way with me on your couch.”

Harry chuckled against your neck, face lifting shortly to look at you. His pupils were blown out already, as his skin took on more of a rosy flush from the beginnings of his exertion. That or you’d embarrassed him.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” he mused. ”Where’d you want it?”

Legs curled gently around the backs of his thigh, still covered by the denim of his jeans, you pressed against them with the heel of your foot. 

“Where’d you think?”

He knew exactly where. You were a simple creature. You liked simple things. Sex was always fun to have all over the house, but depending on the level of intimacy you craved, depended on where you were willing to open your legs.

Tonight was a weird one for you to decide upon. The fumble on the couch, while it was exciting and showed you Harry’s desperation to have you once more, it would be over before you knew it. Also it would most likely leave you with a horrible crick in your neck as your keepsake. 

You didn’t want that. You wanted your keepsake to be the ache in your thighs from how he had taken you in different positions because while a bed was boring for some, it allowed you the option to roll around for as long as your bodies permitted. Bending in all different shapes and ways that sometimes neither of you would’ve been able to imagine. 

He broke you from your thoughts once more, hand gently finding your bum and tapping against it. “Up yer get,” he spoke, starting to push himself up knowing you wanted to go upstairs. 

With your legs curled around his, Harry couldn’t go too far. He chuckled with amusement as he dropped his eyes down to his legs and yours, before looking back up. He didn’t need to even ask as he looked at you, leaning forward he inhaled through his nose as he kissed sweetly at your lips and lifted you.

A smile pulled onto your face, causing difficulty to continue kissing. “Stop tha’,” he mouthed against the corner of your lips, as he hoisted your legs. “‘M trying to take charge here.”

“Why do that when you’re still so good at taking direction?” The lilt to your voice was one of glee, you had easily gotten your own way. 

Tousling your hair and flicking it away, behind your shoulders, you rolled your lips into your mouth as you felt the slight bruising from his expressions of desire. He was watching you as you looked at him, doe-eyes sparkling with intrigue and adoration. 

“Give us a kiss,” his deep voice ignited a warm fire within, as he still tried to assert himself while he walked the two of you away from his open plan lounge and closer to his kitchen.

You continued to eye him, enjoying the way he wasn’t going to back down. You just needed to stand your ground just as much. 

As your bum hit the work surface, your hands traced over Harry’s cheeks, cupping his face before moving to grip at the counter. Head tilted slightly, he looked down the bridge of his nose at you through hooded, dark eyes. 

He stepped in between your wide open legs and enjoyed the closeness that they brought when you brought them together to keep him to you. Heavy breathing filled the silent air as you both traced each other's features with touch and sight. Taste could wait, but it would get here soon enough. 

He gulped as he swallowed. 

“Please.”

At first it was gritty. His voice tight and throat dry. His lips forming the word confidently. 

Again he swallowed. “Please, gimme a kiss. You kiss me, like before.” 

The victorious hum that left his lips was one that you would let slide, as his hands ran down the length of your arms and reached up to wrap around your own. He placed them back onto his face, mouth breaking away as he left open mouthed kisses to your left palm, nose nudging at the end of your long sleeve top where he inhaled your worn away perfume. 

He could feel your pulse as he curled his fingers around your wrist. It was strong and rhythmic, inviting to his primal desire which caused him to gently nip at your flesh with his front teeth.

Turning his eyes back to yours, you silently asked him for another kiss with your soft and slow blinking gaze, knowing he wanted to get just as reacquainted as you did. 

He obliged, pressing closer to the counter and letting his lips meet yours quickly. His quick change in motion caused you to reach behind you to steady yourself, your hand coming into contact with an item you couldn’t identify until you gasped and pulled away thanks to the smashing sound. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you whispered quickly, trying to catch your breath. Harry’s eyes turned to take a look at one of the daintier wine glasses he had pulled down from the rack earlier but chose not to use. The item now lay broken against the flooring of his kitchen. 

“Really should tidy up before we go up,” he groaned, mouth pressed into the side of your cheek as you surveyed the mess made on his coffee table over the other side of the room. He reluctantly pulled away from you, walking the short distance to the broken glass.

“Watch yourself,” you said, meaning his bare feet around the glass.

Crouching down, Harry started to collate the bigger shards of glass together, stacking them up against the tiles of his kitchen floor. As you peered down, still sitting on his kitchen island, he looked up at you.

“Couldn’t do me a favour? Go an’ grab the dustpan and brush.”

You blinked. Was he alluding that he kept everything in the same place? Given how he’d asked so vaguely, knowing you would understand. 

Softly, he smiled up at you and chuckled around his words, “Same place as last time, yes.”

Taking a while to kick into action, you slowly slid off the work surface and let your feet softly pad over to the other side of the kitchen. The third cupboard from the right, on the lower half of the kitchen was where Harry kept items that Anne had brought him. You know, the things that Mum’s knew would be important but somehow never crossed their children’s minds. Regardless of whether their children were grown adults.

Sure enough, there sat the same blue dustpan and brush. The item was as vibrant as the last time you had seen it, in similar fashion. Leaning down you grabbed at it, shutting the cupboard gently using your foot and walked back to Harry.

You handed it off and heard his whispered thanks, as you rested the side of your hip against his cupboards.��

“Don’t think I’ve had this out since the last time you so elegantly broke one of my favourite glasses.”

You knew he was messing with you but that didn’t stop the blush of embarrassment, hitting your skin, and filling you with warmth. “I’ll replace it.”

“‘M jokin’, ‘s fine. Only a bit o’ glass-“

His sentence was cut short as the two of you jumped, the sound of a phone filling Harry’s space.

“‘S not mine,” he jutted his lips out, as he pushed himself up from his crouched position and carefully walked towards the bin with his broken glass.

You turned towards the noise that was your phone and how it blared from Harry’s coffee table, where you had placed it earlier. Walking the short distance, you reached for it and was met with a familiar male name.

Biting your bottom lip, you swiped across the phone and pressed it to your ear. His soothing voice greeted you, slightly worried in tone as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Letting your feet take you to the kitchen island again, you responded telling him you were fine and how sorry you were that you hadn’t let him know you had gotten home okay.

From over the other side of the room, you watched as Harry quirked a brow at you while he picked up the empty bottle of wine and wine stained glasses from the coffee table in his lounge. 

You weren’t home. You were far from home.

“Who is it?” He mouthed as he got closer, glasses clinking as he placed them onto the work surface of the kitchen island, after discarding the bottle of wine as loudly as possible into the bin. 

You pulled the phone away from your ear showing him the name that he had earlier been typing into your Instagram search bar. Under the dim light you could see the slight squint to his eyes and the way his nostrils flared. 

He darted his eyes from the phone screen and back to yours, watching as you put the phone back to your ear. 

“Yeah I had a great night, ‘m just tired.”

Harry dropped his head, a smirk forming on his lips. You were far from tired and this was nothing more than a moodkill. With his hands pressed to the worktop, he looked up at you as you stood diagonally opposite him. 

Eyes glancing down to your left hand that was spread against the work surface, Harry reached for it. The tips of his fingers running gently between the divots of your knuckles, before his hand slipped underneath your fingers and tugged you towards him.

You slowly obliged him, as your eyes moved to his face. “Come to bed,” he mouthed, watching as your top teeth worried at your bottom lip. His right hand moved to slip around to your lower back as you arched, pulling your chest away from his trying to keep his mouth away from the phone.

“Come to bed wi’me,” his voice was a whisper now, not quite loud enough for the person on the other end of the line to hear but a next step up from how he was previously just mouthing his words to you. 

As he tried to distract you, he dipped in and out of your conversation which was the most monotonous thing he had ever found himself eavesdropping into.

With your chest open to him, he nosed his way along your skin, head nudging at your hand that held the phone. His lips pulled into a smile as you faked a yawn, clearly trying to politely give the man on the other end a hint that you were done.

Still he heard the drone of this guy, who was now even repeating things he had previously said to try and keep you on the line with him. You weren’t interested though, too preoccupied by the way that Harry was once again pressing kissing to the skin that he could get too. 

Before you knew what was happening Harry had clearly had enough. 

“We’re tired, pal. Take the hint,” he spoke into the phone that still rested against your ear, his lips finding the bottom end of the receiver. “‘S time for bed.” 

You had to pull the handset away from your ear, not wanting to hear his reaction from the sound of Harry's voice. You blindly ended the call, keeping your eyes on your ex-boyfriend, whose green-eyed monster had made itself known.

He helped guide your phone down to his marble countertop and watched as the phone was brought to life with a call. The same name appearing on your screen as he tried to call you back.

Harry didn’t take long to decline the call, quickly turning the phone to silent and placing it face up once he’d finished. Again, it lit to life, this time buzzing against his work surface rather than omitting a jarring noise into the silence the two of you shared.

“‘S a bit creepy in’t it?” 

His question lingered as his eyes moved between the phone and you, watching another call ring out. “If he rings again, ‘m gonna answer.”

As expected the phone lit up for the fourth time. However, before Harry could reach for the item you pushed it, causing it to slide against the work surface and away, just enough that it was out of his reach. 

Harry clenched his jaw, his muscle pulsing as he looked at you. “‘S he always like tha’?”

“He’s just realised the girl he was dating is in the company of some other bloke.” 

“Dating or taken on dates? There’s a difference,” he raised his eyebrows. “‘S a huge difference an’all.”

You stared at him, watching him lower his body to lean against the counter with his elbows and wipe down his face in frustration. Unwarranted at that. 

“I don’t like ‘im.”

“Of course you don’t,” you hummed. 

Sharply he turned his neck to look at you, “‘s tha’ supposed to mean?”

“That I agree.”

“No,” he frowned. “It was how you said it.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I’m not-“ he cut himself off, sigh heavy. “I’m not saying you can’t.” 

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, thinking of how to navigate his way out of this. 

“‘M saying that you don’t always have to,” he dropped his voice, slowly standing and letting his itching hands reach for you. 

With his hand resting against your ribs, you stayed still. He didn’t guide you anywhere, he waited. Waited on your next move. When he felt your stoic figure relax underneath his touch, his tight chest expanded. Maybe he could talk himself out of this one.

“When we tried this before,” he softly spoke, pulling his hand away from you to motion between you both, “We shared the load, started to become a team.”

“Yeah and look where that got us.”

He felt his lips twitch from your negative deadpan. “‘S got you back ‘ere again tonight so ‘m doing summat right.”

Shaking your head at him, he rolled his lips into his mouth trying to fight his pleased smile. He dropped his eyes to the counter below him as he mumbled his sorry. 

“If you were to ask me, I think we did alrigh’.”

“You would say that.”’

You watched as he jutted out his lips, before running his hand down his mouth and facial hair. He leaned on his palm, his eyes taking you in and wishing you would speak.

“My Mum talks about you all the fucking time,” 

“Say tha’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when you’re trying to get over someone,” you glanced at him from the corner of your vision.

“Now why would you want to do that?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you were scornful. He shook his head, clearly amused. 

“I’ve still got half of your belongings upstairs, if you wan’ ‘em. You have no idea.” 

You squinted your eyes at him. Trying to read him. “Appearances aren’t always what they seem. Don’t know how many more times I’ll have to tell you about papers and social media, ‘s all a load of bollocks.”

Standing once more, Harry rolled his shoulders and brushed his hair off his face. Once his hands were at the back of his head, he linked his fingers and turned to look at you. Head resting back on his hands, the two of you held each other’s eyes. Him from the corner of his vision, you dead on. No words passed between the two of you. 

“‘M going to bed,” he sighed, dropping his arms and tapping gently against the kitchen counter twice before pushing away. 

His body screamed dejected as he walked away, his shoulders sagged and head down as he walked through his home, towards the second floor and his bedroom. 

Swallowing thickly, you rolled your lips into your mouth again before you spoke his name. The way you called for him caused Harry to stop his movement, back continuing to face you as he silently waited for your next move after you voiced your plea.

You let your feet take you to him, abandoning your phone on the kitchen island and trying your hardest to ignore the white hot anxiety that overtook your being. 

Close enough to touch now, you looked on at your shaking fingers as they gently reached out for him. Your feet took you as close as they could, arm wrapping gently around his abdomen and feeling it quiver with a nervous exhale. 

Lips against the linen of his shirt collar as you pushed onto your tiptoes, hoping that the wine stain upon them wouldn’t attach itself to the cream garment. His head dropped forward, exposing the curvature of his neck to you as his hand gently slid over yours and he rested his fingers between the splayed gaps of your own. 

Gentle squeeze. Reassuring reminder. 

Take your time. 

“Come show me this stuff.”

***

There was always something exhilarating about someone leading you upstairs. The different ways in which it could play out. Playful with a swing to your hands, sensual with a gentle tug to keep your close.

The feel of Harry’s hand in yours was always wanted. Every stroke of his thumb against your knuckles or the back of your hand, a reminder of the affection you had been missing.

His eyes looking over his shoulder at you as he came to the bottom step of the second set of stairs. A silent reminder that you could back out at any time. 

The floorboards still creaked in the same place as always and part of you hated that you didn’t need him to lead you down the hallway because you knew exactly where his room was. 

However, taking yourself to bed never possessed the same majestic undertone as when someone else did.

You were now sitting with your legs tucked underneath you at the end of his bed, rummaging through the box of things that he had neatly packed together for you so they were ready for you to have back if you ever came to collect them.

Every so often you would pull something out to him, showing it and either sharing a story or laughing. As you looked up at him now, showing a tequila shot glass and shaking it suggestively at him, he looked every inch ready to sleep.

Harry was stretched out straight on his bed, his linen shirt still covering his upper body but the buttons were all undone, revealing his chest and stomach to you. Tattoos on display to your eyes that you hadn’t seen for what felt like forever.

The top button of his jeans had been undone as he got comfortable and his ankles were crossed, with his right leg over his left. His eyes were heavily lidded and blinking slower and slower each time you presented him with a new item. 

Double chin forming from the way his head was propped up, he spoke deeply in acknowledgement of the glass with the less than elegant design on the side. 

“Remember getting through a whole bottle of tequila with that,” he drawled, hands clasping on top of his stomach. “Don’t know why we didn’t just pass the bottle between the two of us.”

“That’s because someone insisted that if we were gonna do it, we had to do it proper.”

“Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”

“That’s convenient,” you deadpanned knowing that there was probably some truth behind his words given how inebriated you had both been at the time.

Thoughts aside you continued looking into the box to see a worn slogan shirt peering up at you. Pushing aside the half empty bottle of perfume that was once your favourite, you silently admired the tee that you knew didn’t belong to you.

A soft smile pulled itself onto your lips. Sometimes nice boy Harry was unbearable. He’d taken to folding the shirt that you adored as if it were on a shelf in a posh(er) department store than usual. Think more John Lewis than Debenhams.

Slowly you pulled the item from the box and enjoyed the feel of the soft cotton against your fingers. You loved that the shirt’s collar was slightly saggy, a sign of how loved it had been.

Your voice left your throat as more of a dreamy sigh than you imagined. “I loved this shirt,” you spoke as you held it up in front of your face, eyes tracing over the blue slogan of ‘Enjoy health. Eat your honey.” and the cheeky looking bee that was drawn within the circle.

Who didn’t love an innuendo?

Without a second thought, you let the item fall into your lap, hands quickly turning to pull at your black v-neck top and reveal your matching black lace bra underneath.

Harry slapped his hand against his eyes, quickly covering them. The sound caused you to look up at him. “Don’t be so daft, Harry,” you spoke, fighting your smile by rolling your lips into your mouth as you saw him splinter his fingers and look at you through the gap he had created. 

“Could give a guy a little warning,” he groaned, continuing to peek over at you. 

Shaking your head, you enjoyed the way the cool fabric fell down the skin of your stomach as you covered yourself once more. You knew if you were to turn your head slightly and press your nose to the collar, a mixture of your perfume and his cologne would remain.

You fought the urge however, as you pulled your hair out from underneath the collar and quickly pushed your hand up the back of the shirt to undo your bra. 

It was almost second nature for you to remove your underwear to get comfy within your comfier clothes and the sagging of your bra cups away from boobs was always a delightful feeling at the end of any night. Drunk or otherwise. 

You pulled at the straps of your bra from underneath the sleeves of your shirt, before diving your hand under the hemline and dropping the item less than gracefully into the box that held your other items.

“Think you’re forgetting who that actually belongs to,” he drawled, head resting against the pillows beneath him now and watching you rummage once more.

“I think you gave up the privilege of wearing this item the minute you dropped it inside this box all neatly folded like you worked a shift at Topshop rather than Manderville’s every Saturday.”

He cackled, head tilted back as he enjoyed your self-righteous indignation and absolute pisstake. 

“All Saints was more my thing.”

“That’s because you’re fake indie.”

He was amused as he shook his head over at you with a silent smile. “And being fake indie is exactly why you decided to live on the edge of Camden and not in the thick of Camden itself.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t once tell me that you’d want to raise a family in Hampstead.”

You felt your face heat up at the way he’d completely called your bluff. “That was when I was young and naive.”

“As opposed to us now? Being old and decrepit.”

Again you were silent as you started to put the items around you back into the worn cardboard box. 

“Why’re still fuckin’ around wi’that box?” 

Your eyes snapped up at him as he kept your eyes. “The only thing you should be fuckin’ around with, is me.”

Raising your eyebrows, you said, “Now who sounds young and naive. Anyway, what happened to you just taking.”

Harry was silent as he took in your words, his body slowly rising from his lounged position and he sat up to approach you. You dropped your gaze down his chest and to his stomach, enjoying the slight rolls of his abdomen as he adopted his new seated position.

His eyes were focused as your gaze found his once more. A soft determination. This sheen to his skin in the lamp lighting of his bedroom, causing him to naturally glow. 

Once he was secure in his upright position, closer to you, Harry snatched at the box with one hand and picked it up to sit it down on the floor at his side of the bed.

He then swooped suddenly, hand scooping around your waist and drawing you to him with squealed laughter. His lips fell against your cheek as he shushed you, aiding you as you moved position to get comfortable. 

“Remember the first time I had you in this bed?” He asked, chest to chest with you. Your mouth was agape with your quickened breathing, as his lips puckered slightly at the corner of your mouth and he gently leant his nose to yours.

You both watched each other through heavy eyelids, breathing mixed in rising anticipation. A soft nudge of his nose as he asked, “Do yer?”

A nod was all you could muster. 

“Was good sex,” he husked, hoodied eyes holding yours. “Was always good sex.”

You hummed in agreement. Feeling the way your nerve endings came alight as you pushed your fingers through the hair at his temple. 

Heat flowed through your body, circling in your stomach as his words echoed. 

“Still gonna be good sex, ‘f you’ll let me. Better even.”

The faintest smile pulled at your lips, causing your eyes to glisten. 

“Eh,” he nudged. “You gonna let me, or tell me otherwise?”

“Personally, think you’re just talking a good game.”

“You know ‘m fucking not.”

Harry pulled you to him, his mouth claiming yours easily. So hungry and intense. Lips that were desperate to show you what you had been missing. Lips that were desperate to wipe away the touch of another, asking you what the fuck you were even thinking in trying it with some other bloke? 

Gone was the brushing of lips, faint and fleeting. Harry’s liquid confidence started to come into play as his lips formed into a smile when he gave you his tongue and hummed as he did. 

Harry cupped your face as he slanted his mouth over yours, soft moans leaving your throat as you kept him close. 

Lips were coaxing, as he groaned between quiet wet smacking sounds that otherwise would have had you cringing. 

Now he had you however, how could he part? Your smell was intoxicating to him, as was the touch of your fingers in his hair and nails gently scratching at his scalp. His mewls were catlike when he pressed his wet lips to your skin.

Breathing now more like a pant, it puffed against your elongated neck as he pulled away and made a beeline for your clavicle and then chest, movements slower. Chestnut hair tickled the underside of your chin and caused the faintest of smiles to ghost across your lips from the way it felt.

His nose nudged the collar of his shirt that sat against your body enticingly. The smell of your perfume everywhere to him. 

Now lower down you found his forehead was pressed to your clavicle as you felt his teeth playfully tug the cotton between them. A puff of air left your nose as you bit down onto your bottom lip to try and suppressed your giggle.

“Smells like us,” he hummed, mouth breathing hot and heavy against the shirt that sat directly above your nipples. “‘S tha’ good.”

Your only response was the tipping back of your head, fingers carding heavily through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Had he always been this skilful? Vocal, sure. But it never quite hit you like it was doing tonight. His deep hums and moans, his hands spreading so confidently across your back to hold you to him.

And when you cradled the back of his head and pressed that was when you found yourself moaning his name deep from the back of your throat as his mouth gently sucked at your hardened nipples through his beloved shirt.

His name left your lips again, this time  in the softest gasp as a small frown hit your eyebrows and your hips started to faintly roll atop his. He moaned gratefully into your chest, his tongue wetting the fabric of his shirt so it clung to your raised nipple.

As he nosed along the cotton, he found your second nipple, his hand quick to raise to the first and squeeze at your breast that had not been forgotten. His touch wanted - you and it - to know that.

This is what you’d been missing so long. A sense of feeling you had buried somewhere else. Blocking out the way he managed to make you feel more alive than anyone else had. 

With cheeks hollowed as he suckled, you whispered, “That’s nice.”

His hum of agreement vibrated through your chest as he kept his face pressed against you. 

Everything about him became deliberate and slow, his hands now moving underneath your shirt and fingertips gently grazing at soft, warm skin prickling goosebumps in their wake.

Sliding lower his left hand palmed against the back pocket of your jeans, fingers catching against the thick and sewed seams. Hand pressed heavy to aid the soft rock to your hips, tapping lightly to the top of your bum.

“‘M gonna take these off,” he hummed, looking up at you from where his face was still pressed into your chest.

“Are you?”

It felt as if the room spun before you could even comprehend what was happening, a squealed laugh leaving your lips next as your arms tightened around Harry’s shoulders. He lightly lifted and rolled you, your back landing against his mattress gently as your laughter tapered off.

His lips were sponging kisses to your jawline and cheeks, as you felt the backs of his fingers slide gingerly against the exposed skin of your stomach. Slowly you felt the fabric pull away and fall slack against your stomach when he managed to twist the button with one hand, as your arms fell against the mattress and into the pillows that were slightly pressed higher against the headboard.

“Took you long enough,” you goaded, a smirk lacing your lips as you felt Harry pull away and watched him kneel sitting back with his feet against his bum. 

His face was a picture, clearly amused, as he swiftly pulled his own shirt away and threw it behind him. Hands slowly trailed back up to the waistband of your jeans as he lightly hovered over you.

His head found your stomach, the soft skin on show from where the tee had ridden up. Soft puckered kiss, he lifted his head and pressed his chin into your stomach. 

“Last chance,” he voiced, soft. While he wasn’t willing to forget about it all, regardless of the ache he had between his own legs, you had to be in this with him as much as he was. 

Blinking down at him, you moved your hand up to gently push through his hair and without words raised your hips off the bed enough for him to get the message.

The smile that pulled at his lips, was so triumphant you had to knock your head back to stop yourself from chastising him for being full of himself. 

Your hands however couldn’t help themselves as they joined Harry while he pulled your trousers down your legs and watched goosebumps rise upon your skin from their exposure to the cold. 

Now he was at the end of the bed, you dropped your head to the side to look at him. The way he looked as he carelessly threw your item of clothing over to the chair that sat in the corner of his room. 

His eyes slowly came back to you, as he followed his own motion and saw the faintest of smiles dance across your features. 

“What yer thinking?” 

You were thinking a lot of things. Mainly more so how mystical he looked in the soft glow of the London evening that was creeping in through the haphazard way he had drawn his curtains. Your smile only deepend at how it was more so from the street lamp lights than any full moon, but he didn’t have to know that.

Of course he would want to though, because your smile was more so on show now thanks to the thought in your mind.

Harry shook his head as he fought his own smile, dropping his face slightly to watch his hands as he fiddled with his own jeans.

“Whatever’s got you smiling, ‘s doing nothing for my ego as ‘m undressing m’self in front of yer.”

You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself, which is why you lightly laughed. 

He spoke your name in a pretend warning.

“‘S doin’ everythin’ for you,” you spoke sultry, “Don’t even try it. Got a girl half naked and waiting for you.”

At those words he looked up at you, through his curtains of thick waves that had fallen into his line of vision. 

You breathed deeply, eyes unable to move from his captivating stare even though you knew he was practically naked from the waist down. You knew from the way his upper body moved as he pushed down his jeans; you knew from the sound of the clothes bunching around his ankles. 

Now you found yourself wondering again. Wondering if he still kept his condoms where he had done last time. Sometimes in the bedside table drawer, other times hidden in the top of his wardrobe. 

Were you going to see him twist and turn, get him showing you how white his bum cheeks were in comparison to his infuriatingly evenly tanned thighs and legs? Or was he going to hold your eyes, dip his knee into the bottom of his bed and crawl up you once more so he could grab one from the bedside table.

“Not just any girl,” he finally replied, his knee dipping into the bottom of the bed. You supposed that answered your question. 

“No?”

A small shake of his head. 

“The girl.”

Harry chuckled, giving himself away as he watched the way you relaxed deeper into the mattress as he found your legs easy to accommodate him. 

“I’ve never been the anything,” you emphasised.

With his lips against your cheek, you felt his puffed breath as he responded, “Yea, you fuckin’ have.”

You kept him to you with a hand against the back of his head, fingers woven through his hand unable to not enjoy the feel of his silky locks beneath your touch. Reacquainting yourself with everything that you thought you had lost.

His lips unlatched from yours with a soft, wet sound as your eyes rolled back into your head when he started to trail kisses down your cheek, down your neck once more.

There was no mistaking how greedy they were, his chin knocking yours and his teeth scraping against your skin as he held your jaw with a steady hand in hope of keeping you still beneath him. 

Legs moved from where they were open, softly brushing at his sides so your calves wrapped and touched the back of his thighs. The feel of his hairs against your smooth legs becoming a weirdly exhilarating reminder of your closeness once more. 

Head buried in your chest, you felt him locate the wet patch against the cotton from his previous play and quickly enclose his mouth once more. Warm hands pushed beneath your body and the mattress, sliding underneath and raising your chest further to his face. 

Your mouth fell open as you felt the pressure of his lips and tongue, enclosed around your nipple again, grow stronger. With a hand in his hair once more, you wondered if he was going to take you out of this shirt, or fuck you in it. 

As the pressure lessened, with your head pressed into the bed beneath you, you heard the rustling of his nose and face against the shirt. He rubbed his face against you, inhaling and moving his hands closer to your lower back. 

Hands in contact with your underwear, you felt him smooth over the fabric of your bum. He pulled at your thigh, before pushing at your knees with a gentle but assured touch. 

“If I remember correctly,” he started, voice muffled as his face was still pressed to your breast. “This leg needs to go here, like this. Mm?” 

Clammy hand splayed against your thigh, you felt him direct your other leg, “And this one needs to be a bit lower, otherwise you get cramp.” 

There was a pause, and you could feel the way his lips were twitching atop the cotton of the tee. Matching yours at the flippant comment that was only funny because it was true.

Humming again, he added, “Keep ‘em like this. Keep me here like this.” 

Doing what he asked, you bit back a moan when he moved to fit his palm over you through your underwear. The warmth from it radiating through you, making your throb and giving you the urge to fold your legs in on it.

Tentative strokes were what you received, at first. Up and down, coaxing you and drawing you into him. Then his fingers became more confident, certain in their touch, moving with a sense of familiarity you had been missing. 

“‘S this okay?”

His voice was soft, hard to hear over your breathing and the blood starting to rush around your ears. You found yourself nodding, however. Giving him the permission he desired, making his next movement the easiest. 

His fingers hooked, slipped underneath the thin piece of fabric and the quiet groan that left his lips only had you moving your legs that bit higher. 

“‘S it nice.”

Harry was enticing. From his oozing velvety voice to his careful, barely there touch. You were lost to him. Finding it hard to breath as your body begged for you to be actually - really - touched. 

With a heavy swallow, you felt your eyes fall shut with your slow, deep breath and let your head turn to the side, finding the edge of a propped up pillow to shield your torture expression. 

“Don’t hide from me,” his voice lazily made itself known, as he looked up from under his brow at you and caused your eyes to drop as you looked down your body. He descended lower and lower, hands pushing up at his tee against your stomach, to reveal your bare skin to him. 

Spongy kisses, encased by stubble, pressed into your skin. His fingers never once let up in their tease, touch opening you up for him. The soft twitch of your legs when his fingers landed on your clit, sliding over it. 

“Relax for me,” he hummed. “You good… s’it feel good?”

Confident nod, you swallowed again. Tongue pushing between your lips to lick away the dryness. 

“Okay wi’this?” 

Another nod.

The press of his fingers onto your clit caused you to breathe deeply. A hiss of ‘yes’ as you exhaled. 

“Tell me if it’s changed.”

And you knew what he meant. His desire to know if you still liked things the same as before important to him. 

You couldn’t help the low and long moan that left your throat. Neither could you stop the lift of your hips from the bed as you twisted your body as he stroked at your clit. 

Heavenly ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ were pulled from you. Encased by ‘yeses’ of various pitches. Harry’s nose was buried into the skin of your ribs, having managed to push the tee you still wore to underneath your boobs and in the process expose more of your skin to him.

His mouth sucked against your skin on the inside of your left boob, just at the underside, and from the groan he omitted you knew you were going to be left with an almighty love bite. 

“Oh,” you sighed, as you felt his tongue lave at the mark, again nudging upwards and taking the shirt with him. Tongue over your exposed nipple, alert from the cold and due to your aroused state. 

Your lower half was warm, fire stoked while he stroked at your clit. A sharply exhaled ‘fuck’ from you had him smiling around your nipple. The last time you had found yourself getting this wet - soaked and slick, the kind that meant your walls were smooth and would pull him right in - had been with him. 

A laugh left you from underneath your breath, one not noticed by Harry who was too lost in the feel of you beneath him. The thought of anyone being able to get you this way from an act so virginal was unknown. Of course, he was the exception. Of course. 

“Hear tha’?”

So lazy he couldn’t even ask you properly. 

“Nice an’ wet.”

The slip of his fingers moving lower had you humming delightfully, legs falling open a bit more as his fingers danced at your entrance. The contrast of the heel of his palm to your clit was welcomed, warm but dry in comparison to heavily wet fingers. 

You could feel yourself pulsing as his palm gently rubbed you again, nervous energy had you teetering. Fingers at your center. You wanted them, you wanted him in anyway he would give you himself. 

Quiet, apart from staggered breathing, he smiled to himself when he felt your walls give way to him and his two fingers with ease. Your moan was voracious, a clear need apparent as the edges of it died against your dry throat. 

He knew it was his name. He had heard it like that before. Plenty of times. Said in the same tone too. Sprinkled with incoherent desire. 

“‘S that want you wanted?” He found himself asking. “Should’a just said.”

And you would’ve if you could. But instead your head was tossed back and your toes were curling into the sheets. 

These were the moments he has missed. When he really thought about your time apart. The moments where the two of you were so lost in each other that the nonsense that slipped from each of your lips was met with no judgement but rather embraced. 

Reacquainting after time apart. Rekindling your desires and unspoken love for one another. 

Eyes on your face, he couldn’t  quite see you how he would’ve liked but he did nothing to change it. His own want went out of the window in favour of you getting and keeping yours. 

The smell of you was everywhere as he dropped his eyes and pushed his face against your boobs once more. A man quite willing to suffocate in his need to want more. 

He could feel your falling apart under his experienced touch, relentless and unfleeting now. His fingers curled and with each ‘come hither’ your breathy moans only drove him on. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he spoke through gritted teeth, the tension in his arm burning at his wrist. Mutters of desperate mantras - ‘come on, come on’ - mouthed to your skin.

And you could - like this - you could. But did you want to?

While you were feverishly hot, everywhere, for him - body unable to stop rolling with each pull of his fingers - your head knocked back and softly shook from side to side. 

“No,” you moaned lightly, “Not yet… Harry.” 

“No?”

His questioning had you dropping your eyes, head still lolled to the side with pouted expression. 

Mind still slightly hazy, you stared at him. He was still in his underwear, very obviously hard. Head nudging slightly, you breathed, “Come here.”

Empty. That’s how you felt when he slowly moved his fingers and left you clenching around nothing but the cold air of his bedroom. 

His right hand was against your skin, middle and third finger slightly hovering away as they were coated in you and he selfishly didn’t want to lose that to your flesh but rather his tongue. 

Legs welcomed him, smoothing around the backs of his thighs once before lifting and using your  feet to try to push his underwear down. 

Harry let out a noise you hadn’t heard in a while, a mix between a grunt and chuckle. The kind that created an aggravated fire within you.

“‘S not gonna work,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of you against his clothes bulge. Your one thigh lifting to encourage him to roll onto his back.

And he did, taking him with you. A mess of awkward limbs tangling. With shaky knees you climbed over him, eyes down and taking in his underwear.

A pair of black briefs fit him just right, hugged him and holding his straining cock. 

Your eyes slowly rose up his body, his chest lifting and falling with heavy breathing as his chin softened while he looked down at you with his fingers just about leaving his mouth from where he’d cleaned your arousal off of them. 

You felt his eyes peering at you as you lowered down, nose first teasing against the waistband of his underwear before you found your lips pressed kisses to the tops of his thighs. Enjoying a little bit too much the feel of his leg hair against your nose and lips. 

Hand lifted, it blindly sought out the waistline of his pants and allowed fingers to slip inside to pull down the material. 

Just about past his thighs, you locked eyes with Harry. His soft blinking gaze and content smile had you grinning impishly, knowing in the faintly lit room he would most likely be able to make out the blush upon your skin. 

You’d saw but more arousingly heard his cock move as the briefs which encased it gave way and it fell back, heavy, against Harry’s lower abdomen. And that was where it lay, next to the hair in Harry’s stomach and down to his pubic region. 

Small crawl to get you better situated, you flipped some of your hair over to your opposite shoulder and felt him touch the back of your head with a barely there graze as you licked up the underside of his cock.

“Shit, darling,” he breathed, voice blissful above you but filled with a rawness only brought on by sexual vulnerability. 

Looking up his body, you could see the grin that had made its way to his lips. His teeth quick to bite it away, with little to no avail. 

You licked again, mouth moving lower to delicately suck one of his balls into your mouth. 

The groan that left him was husky, right from the back of his throat. The kind that gave you shivers from how unguarded it was. His legs widened against the bed, your eyes diverted to his thighs from his movement. How thick they looked as they flattened beneath you on his bed. 

Wrapping your hand around him, you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. Up and down. Slowly taking in every movement and what it did to him. Just like you remembered.

“‘S this right?” You asked, hand and mouth working him and his balls over. Looking up once more you watched him hum, with the smallest of nods. His lips were rolled into his mouth, dimples prominent as they dipped into his cheeks.

His nostrils flared as he breathed and his hair had started to fall across his forehead from how he’d been dipping his head back into the pillows beneath him.

“Squeeze me ‘ere,” he reminded you, voice holding a slight tremble, his hand encasing yours and encouraging a tighter hold as he leisurely dragged both his and your hand up and down his cock. “Slowly- tha’s it.”

You pulsed between your thighs as you watched him moving your hand with his, each downward pull showing his glistening head more and more. Heavy swallow, you knew he was holding back and you would be lying if you said the visual wasn’t encouraging you to take him in your mouth properly.

Almost like second nature you did exactly that. Licking at your lips as you lifted up and wrapped your lips around his exposed tip. When his hand faltered from the pleased sound you voiced now you were on him, you were able to slip from under his grip and felt him continue to wank as you suckled so teasingly. 

With each bob of your head, you felt his hand pull away more, as your mouth and jaw stretched around his hard cock. 

“Yea’,” he groused, deeply when his hand fell to give way to your mouth and move to shift your curtaining hair. Harry rolled his hips up gently, eager to get the last bit of him down your throat. Old him would’ve voiced it too, but he felt this moment didn’t call for that.

He softly fucked your face, if there were such a thing. The nudges of his cock warming through your core as the throbbing sensation that had been lingering between your legs only grew.

Harry fought against himself to make you gag, teetering on it with each raise of his hips as his glassy eyes barely focused on you. Too engrossed in the filth he wished to voice. 

“God, look at you,” he dropped his head back. Ironic really. Unable to continue looking as he said it. It was tame in comparison to how he wanted to speak.

So, he laughed. Breathy at first, before becoming a little bit louder. You lips twitching into a smile as you lifted off of him and gently tugged before letting it fall and bounce proudly erect. Kissing up his stomach and placing your knees either side of his hips. 

He had almost forgotten you weren’t completely naked until you sat on top of him covered up. Eyes too taken by your face to care, as you blinked down at him with a doe-eyed expression that made him want to lap you up in any way he could have you.

His right hand pulled you down to him, lips greedy against yours as his left hand found the top of your bum cheek, trying to blindly find his cock and guide him into you regardless of knowing it wouldn’t work.

“Like this?” He asked as his lips hovered at the corner of yours, wanting to know if you wanted it this way. “How’d you wan’ it?”

“On top.”

“Me?”

Your voices were breathy as you spoke around the faintest of kisses. Both eager to start from the feel of you both so close to each other. 

The faintest of nods was given to him and it was all it took for him to roll the both of you, further continuing to ruckle up the bedsheet beneath you.

“Do I need one?”

And you knew you should be responsible and not shake your head no at his ambiguous mention of protection. All rushed and breathy, chest heavy as he exhaled in a nervous rush, but you just wanted him. Bare and in you. 

Underwear was quickly removed before you’re resumed your position. 

He watched you softly as you shook your head no, Harry pushing the shirt up under your boobs, your arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss at your jaw and cheeks. 

“Planning on staying over?” 

Feeling him shift up and jar his head back, just enough to get a good look at you, you stared at him not knowing how to respond. It was practically morning now, so hadn’t you already? 

His hands moved your legs as you thought, his one holding you where he needed you to be. 

“Don’t think ‘bout it for too long, darling,” he joked nudging his nose gently against you as he watched the way your lips went against you, smiling at his words. 

“Let me know how long we can go for,” he added, gently taking his cock that was sprung and bobbing between you into his hand. He looked down and tapped it to your wetness, sliding it down with a press of his fingers to the topside of his shiny cock to line himself up.

“Gonna let me have you all night.” 

Your breathing picked up, chest trembling slightly at how much more of a statement those words sounded than a question. An amorous glance looked back at him, slow blinking and head lolled gently to the side. 

“Eh? Sleep in the mornin’?”

A deep and shaky breath had your mouth falling, your eyes slowly shutting as you felt him push in. You were right when you thought about how easily you would take him earlier. Body crying out for a good fuck. 

“Fuck me,” he groaned deeply, head dropping forward and hair hanging down. You reached for him, wanting to see his face.

Harry obliged you, his face turning to find your wrist and pressing a chaste kiss to your skin. “Missed havin’ you like this,” he breathed. Quick bite down to his bottom lips, nostrils flared.

“‘S tight.”

He knew the remark was boyish. Unable to stop himself as he eased out and rolled his hips back into yours. Each push and pull giving you a little more of him. Deep frown etched between his eyebrows as his breath caught in his throat, mouth slightly fallen and lips starting to dry. 

“Haven’t-“ your voice croaked, head dipping into the pillow beneath you.

Haven’t slept with anyone in a while. Haven’t slept with anyone since you last slept with him. Haven’t had the desire to. 

He hummed in agreement as the two of you felt the words fall away from you both. Harry’s concentration firmly on each roll of his hips as he gave you more of him. The rhythm he set being one that you could only describe as intimate. Familiar. 

He was warm on top of you as he alternated between grinding dips of his hips, thrusts that were tantalisingly slow, making your hips roll up to meet him and causing him to smile at how you wanted it. 

He had to voice it. “You want it, don’t you?”

He only knew so easily because he did too. He had done the minute he fucked the whole thing up and let you slip away with his dwindling text messages in response and shorter phone calls every time you had a chance.

Your hand glided to the back of his head, the other down to his bum as you encouraged him to give you his entire weight. He was close but you want him closer. Close was never close enough. 

Was that enough to answer his question of wanting it, wanting him? 

Squeezing at his bum, you fought the urge you had to give him a slap, too caught up into the heavy groan that moulded into your face as he pressed his nose to your skin.

“You make me good,” he lowly gruffed against your cheek, his hand trailing down to take yours from his bum.

Fingers laced and pressed against the mattress upon which you lay, you tilted your head back and pressed it harder into the pillow beneath you. You keened and mewled beneath him, breathy noises of indecipherable words as the head of his cock bumps your spot inside. 

“You make me feel good.”

You were taken by his gasp, how desperate he sounded as he hiked your leg higher, wanting you to spread yourself open for him. His hips don’t give you much choice other than to play along as he moved with an assiduity you had never found with any other man. 

He allowed you to feel every inch of him going in, pulling out and going back in. Teasing himself and you with a slow and measured pace that had you passionately panting underneath him. 

“No one gets it like this.”

Looking at him with heavy-lidded vision, you wove your fingers through his hair and tugged. His face contorted blissfully, breath catching in his throat before it heaved out of his mouth as his chest forced him to exhale. 

You were nodding, agreeing with him. No one had you like this. Him like this. It like this. Sweltering and sticky. 

Teeth gritted, he grunted as he thrusts grew heavier now with more conviction behind their motion. 

“Deeper,” you gasped, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

His pelvis was heavy against yours now, making it difficult for you to lift and roll your hips to meet his thrusts. And he knew you loved it like this, he still knew that. 

Legs practically pushed to your chest, held there by your own fruition as they rocked and rubbed up against his fleshy sides cradling him to you, feet bobbing in the air with toes curled.

The sensual roll he was giving you caused the grip of your fingers to go slack against his head. You could feel him smiling against your skin, as your breath hitched in your throat and your hand squeezed at his. 

“Touch my arse,” he moaned, sliding his hand out of yours and breathing in quick succession until your hand met his bum cheek once more. 

This time you didn’t falter, gently tapping and feeling the tension to his thrusts as he clenched. Quick squeeze and nails digging in creating crescent moons against his white bits. “Yeah darlin’, know I like it like tha’.” 

Head turned to the side, you messily brought your mouths together. He chuckled as you broke away, probably from the words he’d just spoken. Laughter dying down into a hum as your feet wrapped around his lower back.

His lips were dry as they met yours, too caught up in how his mouth hung open, to make them wet and inviting, as his need to breathe was evident. 

“No ones like you,” you admitted. “No one comes close.”

He revelled in the whine of your last word, how it had your back arching and allowed him to wind his hand around you to lift your bum slightly to encourage your hips to continue meeting his.

He knew you were tired, the breathy whines that were spoken up towards the ceiling were not lost on him. And he knew he had to keep going, to give it to you how you deserved. To make up for the lost time, to say sorry for ‘being a bit of a dick’. A lot of a dick. 

When you knocked your head back, your eyes were unable to concentrate and he was mesmerised by the visual of complete, unadulterated lust that was present on your features. Hair sticking to your temples from your exertion and face void of any concern. 

“Make me come,” you whispered your plea, feeling him bury his face into your neck and drop himself down flush to you. With one hand woven through the hair on the back of his head, your other stayed at him bum feeling the grind of his groin against yours as he lay on you. 

He was sensual now, if not a little tired himself, as his breathing left his mouth in hot pants against the side of your neck. You could feel yourself beginning to flush from the heaviness of his body as you both rocked from the force of his motions and the fullness of him above you.

With rustling sheets and sounds of grunts, your cooed ‘oh’ left you, as you felt the motion of Harry’s hips pickup pace. Your fingers clawed into his hair, lifting the strands and softly pulling as your body ached in the most delectable way.

Harry groaned around a smile, muffled by your skin as he could feel his stomach start to tighten; his orgasm impending. He tried to hold off as much as he could, eager to watch you come undone first in the best way he could as he was rendered speechless and breathless alongside it.

Instead you were both a mess of tangled limbs, with rocking motions so vigorous that you felt yourself moving up the bed. A symphony of noises - slapping skin, feeble grunts and creaking bed.

Harry wheezed, knowing he sounded pathetic by too caught up to care. Through hooded eyes you caught sight of his mouth falling agape before he ground his teeth together as his thrusts heavily rolled into you, nudging your entire body.

Your mouth fell as his name unashamedly fell from your lips. Demandingly, but in a juxtaposed whisper, you told him to give it to you. 

“I am,” he whispered. “Oh, I am, darling- Mmhm.“

You whimpered, feeling each breath get harder to produce as your abdomen began to tighten and your chest heave. “I’m coming,” you hastily whispered. Voice nothing more than a pant. 

Looking up at Harry, you watched his bottom lip become captive to his teeth, as his nostrils flared while he breathed. His thrusts were at their heaviest now, wetter and sloppier but getting the job done.

“Gonna- oh.”

This was the loudest you’d been in a while. Moans long and dying off into wordless bliss as your muscles tensed and your orgasm rolled through you. Leaving you as nothing more than cloudy thoughts, and a warm, floaty body.

You felt the bounce of his laugh against his skin from his breath, as he continued to move above you and moulded you into nothing but a high-pitched mess as he wouldn’t stop.

Body falling slightly slack, relaxed and pliant to the bed, you felt Harry move his face into your neck and nudge his hips once more. His ruts were less rhythmic, rough grunts and indecipherable slurring only matching his pending euphoria. 

With his final, heavily thrust, his hips slammed to a stop against yours. Your breathing stuttered as you held him to you, hands moving over his shuddering shoulders and ears listening to his muffled groans which vibrated through you.

“Yea’,” he drawled. Low from the back of his throat. “Yes.”

***

Sunday mornings were made to be slow. To bask in the stillness. To hear nothing but the blood that was rushing through your ears.

It was far too bright to be considered early morning. Not with the winter months looming. 

You stretched your limbs, listening for the crack of your back as your hands reached for the t-shirt that was still awkwardly bunched up to your armpits. 

Rolling your body slightly you reached for the hem and pulled it down, letting your head fall to the side to see an empty bed which allowed a sense of regret to creep into your morning thoughts. Blinking slowly, you almost missed the sound of the bedroom door gently bouncing against the wall.

A hushed, “bollocks” spat out for the other side of the wood causing your lips to twitch upwards in a smile. 

A pause came to Harry’s movements as he caught your eye in nothing more than a pair of fresh underwear and mismatched mugs in each hand. 

“Stayed the night,” he hummed, eyes softly shining. A soft smile pulled onto your lips as he left a cup of tea closer to your side of the bed and you watched him start to blow gently at the lip of his own mug. With his mouth about to take a sip, he asked, “Fancy staying another?” 

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.17

Happy Times

03/05/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,336

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, big smut, smutty smut, talk of pregnancy, infertility, trouble with conception

A/N: This is the big one. The one I’ve been waiting to share. To write out and perfect and I hope it hits you all the way it did me to write it. I love this chapter for many reasons. The smut is probably one of my favorites to have written. I don’t know why. I hope y’all enjoy it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Something settles between you and Thor after your sobbing conversation.

Thor has always been sweet with you after your marriage but he seems intent. Like he’s playing catch up and watching him is exhausting.

You know it’s your fault. He probably feels like he has to give you reassurance and two days of watching him fluster, you finally reach out to grab his hand before he can get too far away from you.

"Thor wait," you sigh, pulling him back towards the bed.

You’re not dressed yet, wearing only his heather gray t-shirt. It’s stretched a little around the neck because you’d been pulling it a lot last night in your eagerness to have him on you.

"What is it, my cherub?" he worries, sitting back down beside you as you pull yourself up to sit too.

His hands fly towards you, an instinct, as he places his hands on your hips then slides one up along to your waist then your ribs where you flinch a little from the surprise of his touch.

You’re still not used to him touching you in some places. Not his fault. Not really yours either. You don’t mind. It’s just new.

"Nothing, Thor. Everything is fine. And that's the point."

With a sigh you get up, letting go of his hand as you make your way to the cord by the door that calls in one of your staff.

"I was going to go get it for you," Thor explains. “I know you’re hungry.”

"I know, but Thor...what's going on with you?”

Sitting beside him again, you take his hand and lace your fingers through his as he reaches to touch you again.

You pull his hands onto your lap and sit with one leg folded up on the bed while the other hangs off the edge.

The skin of your thigh draws his attention and he takes back his right hand so that he can reach out and stroke it, pushing the shirt up just a smidge.

“What do you mean?” he asks, not understanding your own confusion.

“I mean, watching you fuss over me has been...I’m exhausted just watching you.”

Thor’s hand never stops stroking but there’s a small understanding that smooths his creased forehead.

“Oh,” Thor smiles a little sadly, and it almost rips your heart out.

“Thor,” you fret, suddenly terrified, voice rising in pitch.

You scoot closer to him to close the gap and he lets his hand slide up underneath your shirt to wrap around your side to hold you. You rest your knee on his own, also folded up on the bed so that he could sit facing you.

Meeting your eyes at the sound of grief in your voice, his beautiful blue eye goes wide, “No, cherub. Do not worry for me. I’m more than alright. I know that I have been a bit enthusiastic in my attention to your needs but it was only because I wanted to make it clear.”

“Make what clear?”

He shrugs one shoulder, pouting his lips as he shakes his head and turns his gaze down to your hand still holding tightly to his.

“That you are my one priority,” he looks up, smiling wide but it’s somewhat forced. “Of course you are. My beautiful wife.”

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach and you bite your lip as your mind races to fix this.

“Is this because of what happened the other morning? Because of me?”

You know it is, and even as he shakes his head, you know he’s lying.

“Thor…” you warn him, “Honesty, remember?”

His head freezes mid shake and with a small sigh, he nods.

“I never want to see you cry like that again,” he confesses.

Without missing a beat, you throw yourself forward to wrap your arms around his neck and practically sit in his lap as he responds instantly and embraces you.

He holds you tight, tighter than he normally does which makes your fear double. He buries his face against your neck and breathes in deep as you reach up to stroke his short blonde locks.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper for him. “I was being silly the other morning.”

You weren’t though. Your insecurities had been founded in a real problem. It no longer applied though, the moment he accepted you as his wife, so you shouldn’t hold it against him.

“I believe you, Thor. I know that you love me. And I appreciate everything you’ve done these past two days, but you don’t have to try so hard. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to.”

“Your worries were not unfounded,” Thor disagrees, unwilling to let you trivialize your feelings. “I once asked you to do something that affected your image of me. I gave you those doubts. Even if they hold no merit now, they were my words.”

“Fine, I had reason to be upset, but Thor this is too much If you keep going at this pace, you’re going to wear yourself out emotionally. I don’t want you to resent your love for me. I appreciate you wanting to make sure I know how you feel--and I do know--but you trying so hard feels almost as bad as why I was upset in the first place.”

The confusion on his godly face is heartbreaking.

“How-?”

“I don’t want to be a burden on you. I want our marriage to be a partnership. We’ll figure things out together, work through things as a team. You were on a team with the Avengers, right? Didn’t you all do much better together than you could do separately?

“And when any of you did break away, how did things go then? Not good, I’m guessing.”

Thor nods, “Not good.”

“I don’t want us to break away from each other. I’m glad you understand how much the way we started had me worried, but I get it too now. I know you don’t want Jane. And I’ll be better about my insecurities.

“So, can you stop running around like crazy and just be with me?”

Reaching up you place both of your hands on the sides of his neck, wrapping your hands around the back to give him a gentle shake.

He takes his own hands and traces your back from shoulder to hips then back up before he pulls you in against his chest to simply hold you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and tuck your head beneath his chin.

“I guess I should probably cancel that chocolatier I hired just for you then?”

You shove your face against the skin of his collarbone and laugh a smothered laugh as he presses his lips against your hair.

“Oh, my god!” you shout, voice still muffled against his pecs.

Thor chuckles, then reaches down to take hold of your chin and tilt your head back until he can lean over you and press his lips to yours.

He kisses you again and again, slow languid pecks that smack quietly, wetly as his lips begin to part. A stirring between your legs makes you shiver and Thor quickly hooks his hands behind your knees to pull you onto his lap where you straddle him easily.

The position places you higher and as your heights are reversed, you grasp the sides of his face. You trace the shape of his top lip with your tongue and he sighs heavily. A huff of mild frustration before he lifts you, flipping you at the same time to press you down onto the mattress.

He kisses the corner of your lips, making a trail down along your jaw to your neck where he licks and suckles driving your sex absolutely wild. It contracts, searching desperately for filling.

“You-drive-me-absolutely-mad-” Thor gasps between wet kisses.

“Oh, Thor…” you whisper, a breathy moan that makes him growl.

He pulls you up for only a second as he takes the shirt off your body then pushes you back onto the bed as his mouth finds your breast to nibble.

He circles your nipples, raising pebbled peaks while his hands trace every curve of your body.

Somewhere in your mind, you’re aware that the bedroom door opens and a timid Estrid’s voice floats in.

“Good morning, Your Majesties. Are you ready for break-? Oh!”

And just as quickly as her voice floated in, it’s gone, the click of the door prompting Thor to stand and pull off his pajama pants.

He strokes himself, drawing your eyes to his large cock but instead of filling you up the way your cunt desperately wants, he pushes your legs apart and up towards you.

One long stroke of his tongue to drive your folds apart pulls a shuddering moan from your parted lips.

“Breakfast indeed,” he mutters, then latches onto your core to suckle on your nub then lap at you hungrily making you quiver.

But you want him inside you. You long to be full with him, pumped with his seed.

He notices your reluctance to his feast, your impatience. It makes him angry? No. It makes him want to change your mind.

He throws himself down flat on his stomach, your legs tossed over his shoulders as his hands make their way to tweak your nipples as his tongue pushes inside of you.

You gasp, arching your back when he pulls back to trace deliciously tortuous circles around your clit.

Like they have a mind of their own, your hands grasp his golden hair, holding him still as he presses more firmly against your nub. You thrust against him, unable to help yourself as you chase your release.

Thor brings his hands back down, hooking them against the fold of your legs and pelvis, shaking his head from side to side as he follows your enthusiastic lead.

The lurid sounds of his mouth devouring you push you over the edge and you buck against him as heat rushes from your core up into the rest of your body to bathe you in ecstasy.

As it spreads, you go numb to anything other than the buzz of your climax.

Thor traces kisses along your thighs, kissing up to your hips, stomach--where you flinch from the unexpected touch--between your breasts and finally your lips.

The taste of you on him is intoxicating. The satisfaction that makes him moan against your lips seduces you again, bringing your legs up against his hips as you spread yourself wide for him.

“I want you inside me,” you breathe, unable to find the volume to do more than gasp at him.

Thor kisses you hard, mouth open wide as he tongues your mouth, exploring the soft heated wetness of your tongue.

With one hand he reaches between your bodies and in one smooth push, he’s got his cock all the way in.

He groans loudly. You moan with him.

“Oh, fuck…”

You’re lost in his body again, the sturdy weight of him pressing you into your bed.

He thrusts into you slowly at first, feeling every twitch of your cunt as you take him.

But with your breathy moans, his excitement grows and his soft thrusts turn into hard pumps.

“Faster, Thor,” you beg.

He throws himself behind you, lifting your leg to wrap it around his waist as he pulls your back against his chest. One hand he uses to massage your breast while the other he uses to hold your leg up to keep you open wide.

You throw your head back, searching for him and he kisses you messily, all tongues and gasping moans.

His cock slides in and out of you smoothly, his pelvis slapping against your ass with a quick rhythm.

“Thor,” you warn, your body pushing towards your second climax.

He buries his face against your neck, lips latching on in a lazy kiss as his focus has shot down to his cock.

Holding your body as still as he possibly can without hurting you, he fucks you quickly, bringing his free hand down to press and flick your clit as he chases his own fix.

He grunts. It’s a growl of exertion.

Your breathing is labored. A pant as you cry out for release.

Thor comes first, biting down on your neck with surprising control while his hips stutter and he shoots his hot seed deep within you.

His hand is relentless as it works you and only a moment later, your toes curl. You lose your breath, a sharp cry of ecstasy piercing the sex haze as your body is overcome.

Thor overworks you, stretching your orgasm for as long as he can while your body twitches within his arms as he waits for you to be more pliable.

As your toes uncurl, Thor’s fingers slowly stop. He traces your side, grasping your breasts to squeeze with lusty admiration as both your bodies come down from their high.

“That’s what I call, a good morning,” Thor says breathlessly.

You chuckle, exhausted and as you shut your eyes, you begin to drift back to sleep.

Thor notices, pushing himself up to press a kiss to your shoulder. Then your neck. Then your cheek.

“Wake up, love,” he urges you. “We have appointments to keep this morning.”

You groan, wanting nothing more than to just stay here in bed and do nothing all day but this over and over.

Thor laughs.

“I know, cherub. Should we call in sick?” he asks, half-serious.

“Ugh, no,” you sigh. “I have to go down to the park. And I have a meeting with the ambassadors at one.”

“What do they want?” Thor asks, wary of the Earth ambassadors because of their previous stance on getting Thor married to someone from Earth without an ounce of care as to who, so long as it was quickly.

“They want a report on our baby making progress.”

Thor sighs.

“Will you tell them about this morning? Should we have just made a video?”

You understand his frustration. You’re pretty tired of having your lack of a baby thrown in your face. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep telling them that you and Thor are trying and that when you have news, you’ll let them know.

“You just want a video for yourself,” you tease him, hoping to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work. “I hate that they call you for this. As if their meddling will help anything. I know it stresses you.”

Slowly, you turn to face him, hands pressed against his cheeks.

“I’m okay, puppy,” you promise him. “I’ll make sure to tell them today that they can’t call me for this anymore.”

“Will they listen?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But maybe if I tell them that they’re stressing me out with all of these progress meetings and that it might be hindering any possibility of conception they’ll leave me alone.”

“Is that possible?” Thor worries, propping himself up on his elbow as his hand gently strokes your lower belly.

“It is possible for stress to make having a baby harder. That’s why I thought that maybe we should take a break from trying but…”

Thor’s lips curl up into a smirk, “There is no way I am letting you take this perfection away from me.”

His hand gives your torso a once over before coming back to rest on your lower belly.

With a laugh, you nod.

“I know. I feel the same way. I think we should just stop thinking of it as a way to have a baby and just...do what we just did. Enjoy ourselves.”

“What we just did was more than enjoy ourselves,” Thor disagrees. “That was worship.”

“Then we’ll keep worshiping each other. Over and over and over and over-”

“Mmmm,” Thor wiggles his eyebrows at you and you laugh as he leans down to kiss your lips.

Your stomach suddenly growls.

“Now that I’ve had my breakfast,” Thor says, turning and getting to his feet. “Let’s get some for you.”

As you sit up, he tosses his t-shirt back at you and you slip it over your head quickly.

Thor moves to the door and pulls it open, nonchalantly peeking outside.

“Ah, Estrid, you’re still here. Good. Her Majesty would like some breakfast, please.”

“Right away, Your Majesty,” you hear Estrid say and your cheeks burn with the realization that Estrid literally just stood outside the doors of your bedroom, listening to Thor fuck you senseless.

As Thor shuts the door, he catches your bashful expression and laughs.

“I’m fairly certain that wasn’t the first time she’s heard us, cherub. No need for embarrassment.”

“I was so loud,” you whimper.

“A point of pride for me, I assure you.”

You bite your lip and Thor shakes his head.

“Shall we make some more noises for Estrid to overhear when she comes back with our food?”

Like a switch, you’re smiling, crawling away from Thor as quickly as you can across his massive bed.

You get only inches before his large hand closes around your ankle and he’s yanking you back to him.

“Come, let me have seconds,” he teases and you laugh as he pounces.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time has a way of getting away from you.

Your days become routine in New Asgard. More than they were before Tony, Bruce, and Jane showed up.

The security setup for the palace takes a long time. Bruce stays the entire month, but Tony goes home to Pepper every week for the weekend.

Jane is a constant presence in your daily life. Despite this, she doesn’t talk to you. Not often.

You tried a couple times to build some kind of rapport with her, but she’s resistant and you give up after the first week of her stay.

If she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you, then you won’t force your friendship on her.

She’s not evil. It’s not like she’s mean to you or outright ignoring you. She returns your greeting in the morning and at night your goodbye, but otherwise she makes no attempt to talk to you.

Thor doesn’t see it. Then again, he’s hardly ever with both of you at the same time.

His meetings with Jane take place everyday after lunch. You’re busy with the city park’s construction so you’re left out of their meetups. This doesn’t worry you.

Thor always gives you a breakdown of what Jane reports to him and you trust him. There isn’t an inch in your heart that believes anything funny is going on. Thor gives you no reason to doubt him.

Loki makes regular visits to the observation stations that the Warriors Three and Sif are tasked with watching and he keeps you and Thor informed. As of now though, there’s nothing to inform you of.

“Nothing’s changed,” Loki assures you both as you lounge in the small sitting room just down the hall from the dining room you, Thor, Loki, and your guests always eat in.

“Do you still feel it? The thing we’re keeping an eye out for?” you ask him, putting your book down on the small coffee table in front of you.

“Oh, yes,” Loki nods. “Whatever it is, is still coming.”

“What’s taking it so long?” you wonder, frustrated with all the suspense.

“Lack of power?” Thor wonders aloud, standing at the wide window that looks out to the sea.

He’s got his thinking cap on.

“No,” Loki shakes his head, pulling down on the dark jade silk he’s wearing over a perfectly ironed white button up.

He’s the complete opposite of Thor in dress who’s taken to wearing a pair of dark jeans and various styles of casual tops from t-shirts to long sleeves that he pushes up to his elbows.

“No, I don’t think power is the problem. It feels more like strategic planning. Whatever they’re waiting for, hasn’t happened yet.”

Loki moves towards you, holds out his hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet.

Almost as if on cue, Bruce suddenly pokes his head in through the open doorway, “Hey.”

“Hi, Bruce,” you greet, suddenly realizing what time it is.

“Lunch?” he asks, eager for a meal.

He’s always starving after he’s been cooped up in the basement security room all morning.

“Lunch,” you agree. “Thor?”

“Hm?” Thor turns towards you, your arm already hooked on Loki’s elbow.

“Coming? It’s lunch time,” you inform him.

“Right, of course,” he smiles at you then moves to take you from Loki who gladly releases you to Thor who guides your arm around his own elbow.

Lunch is uneventful. The same as it always is.

The food is delicious and the meal is hearty.

Thor devours his lamb, Loki nibbles.

Thor sits at the head of the table and you sit beside him, where he likes you to be. Loki across from you. Jane and Bruce sit at the opposite end of the table and anyone else who happens to be around takes up the remaining seats.

Seeing as today is Saturday, Tony is not in his usual spot across from Bruce.

As you sit beside Thor, he reaches over to take your hand, shoveling his food into his mouth with one hand while you also try and fail to cut your lamb with one hand.

You sigh and then laugh, finally pulling Thor out of his thoughts.

“What is it?” he looks around to see if anyone has said a joke, but you’re the only one not focused on anyone but him.

“I need my hand,” you explain, and smile.

“Oh, sorry,” Thor says.

He lets you go but his hand dives down underneath the table to take gentle hold of your thigh.

This touch doesn’t surprise you. You’ve gotten used to Thor’s need to touch you. It’s not overt, usually. Not like he has to be draped around you. He just likes to feel you close.

A hand along your back, fingers tickling the small hairs on the back of your head, your hand held gently, or like now, a hand gently squeezing the flesh of your thigh.

You chuckle as you cut your meat, putting a forkful into your mouth. As you chew, Thor stares at you, smiling softly at your amusement.

“Have I been monopolizing you?” he wonders.

“A little,” you admit. “But I like it. I like when you touch me.”

“I like touching you,” he admits.

“Mmm,” you wiggle your eyebrows once and place your elbow on the table to lean towards him as if you’re about to whisper a secret. “What kind of touches?”

Thor clears his throat, swallows hard, and licks his lips as he tries to guess your mood.

“All kinds,” he whispers for you, leaning in closer.

“Even the ones that make me wiggle?”

“Especially the ones that make you wiggle,” Thor replies adamantly. 

You chuckle and he smiles wide, leaning the rest of the way to indicate he wants a kiss.

Putting your fork down, you reach over to his ear and pull him towards you. You angle his head a little more so that you can kiss him easily and both of you laugh a little as your lips meet.

He pulls back once, then leans back in to give you a peck. Then another. And another. And another. For half a minute, he simply gives you as many smooches as he can while Loki purposely avoids looking at your display.

“I love you,” Thor whispers to you, making your heart leap in your chest and take off like a racehorse as butterflies fill your tummy.

A scraping chair pulls both your attention to the opposite end of the table.

Jane stands, moving around her seat and then pushing it in.

“Well, as delicious as that was, I’ve gotta get back to the tower. There’s supposed to be some sort of midday aurora or something? I don’t want to miss it.

“Thor? Are we still on for two o’clock?”

“Of course,” Thor nods, smiling at her. “See you at two."

She leaves the dining room, every pair of eyes on her departure but you find that only Loki’s brow is crinkled with curiosity.

After lunch, you and Thor retreat to his office, the last room on your floor.

Well, it’s your office too now. After Thor’s wish that you wouldn’t make any kind of office for yourself too far from where he might see you, he’d bought you a sizable desk and bookshelf and had them installed in his office on the wall opposite his own desk.

It’s still a fairly large room so there’s plenty of space for both of you to move around and do what you need to.

Today, you’ve chosen to take a break and grab a novel from your shelf that you’ve been meaning to read.

After sitting at your desk for a chapter, you get up and move towards Thor’s desk where he’s sitting pouring over paperwork. You reach out, nose still in your book, and turn his swivel chair a little so that you can sit on his lap.

Thor doesn’t even look up from his work as he spreads his legs a little wider to offer you one of his massive thighs, and an outstretched arm ready to wrap around your waist once you’re settled.

He gives you a gentle squeeze once you’re in his arms but otherwise neither of you make a fuss.

You’re allowed only about thirty minutes of peace before a knock on the office doors pull both your gazes up.

“Come in,” Thor says, hand relaxed on the small stack of paperwork he’s been reading through.

The door creaks open and large brown eyes peek through.

“Jane?” Thor worries, looking at the small clock on his desk which tells him that she’s half an hour early and she also never comes to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry to bother you both,” Jane says which already sounds odd seeing as she hardly ever includes you in anything. “But I have something I need to show you, Thor.”

“Of course,” he nods, and you’re already getting up off of his lap. “I’ll come see you later, cherub.”

He leans down and kisses you but guides you to sit in his seat, which you do.

You watch him go, shutting the door behind him as Jane leads him off, stealing a precious half hour from you.

Disappointed, you sigh and shut your book. There’s no way you’ll be able to concentrate now.

Luckily, you’re spared having to find something new to do by a second knock on the door.

“Come in,” you say with another sigh.

“Your Majesty?” Estrid looks towards your desk but when she doesn’t see you at your desk, her eyes search the room.

“What’s the matter, Estrid?”

“Oh,” she smiles when she spots you. “‘Tis the fifteenth, Your Majesty.”

Her reminder hits you like a bolt of lightning and you get up as quickly as you can.

“I keep forgetting!” you complain to yourself but with Estrid hot on your heels you hurry down the hall to your bedroom where inside you find Dr. Wilson and Doctor Alric waiting at the small breakfast table.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Wilson? Dr. Alric?” you stop a few feet from them as the curtsy and bow respectively.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” they greet.

“Another blood test today?” you ask, already rolling up the sleeve of the oversized sweater you’d chosen this morning.

“Actually,” Dr. Alric begins. “There will be no need for a blood test today, Your Majesty.”

“What? But I thought-?”

“You’re pregnant, Your Majesty,” Dr. Wilson says, no prompting or lead up.

She just says it, and you freeze.

With wide eyes you look from doctor to doctor completely confused by what it seems their saying.

Do you dare hope that you heard them correctly?!

“I’m what?”

“You’re with child, m’am,” Dr. Alric assures you. “Dr. Wilson and I were finally able to find a way to test your blood for an Asgardian and human mixed child. Since our genetic makeups are so different, it took a bit of creativity and-”

Dr. Wilson reaches out to place her hand on Dr. Alric’s forearm, “We won’t bore you with the medicine behind it, but we tested as far back as we could with the samples of your blood that we kept just in case we managed to find a way to get a conclusive result and you’re about three months. A little less. You will have conceived just after your marriage. Perhaps on your honeymoon?”

Slowly you start to understand what they’re saying and a smile begins to spread across your face.

Can it be true?

“I’m really pregnant?” you check again, because you’ve wanted it for so long.

“Yes,” Dr. Wilson smiles at you. “It’ll be just a tiny swell right now. You might not even notice the change yet.”

“I’m pregnant!” you gasp, laughing as you press your hands to your cheeks.

Your doctors laugh.

Instinctively, you want to run to Thor and tell him. You want to call David and celebrate with him. You want to shout it from the rooftop of the palace so that Earth’s ambassadors will hear and finally leave you alone!

“There are a few things we’d like to go over with you. A diet and some medications to ensure the health and safety of both you and the baby,” Dr. Wilson explains.

“Dr. Wilson will cover the human side of the heir, and I shall employ a brief idea as to what I think might assist in maintaining the child’s Asgardian side.”

This reality check is just what you need and you move to take a seat with them, eager to learn and even more so to get to Thor and tell him that you’ve both been worrying for months when he’d already gotten the job done a long time ago.

You end up taking notes on everything that Dr. Wilson and Dr. Alric tell you. It’s a lot of information, instruction, and advice that you will never remember if you don’t put it down somewhere.

Time passes quickly and slowly at the same time but once they’re done with you, you see them off and then race back to the office to see if Thor’s meeting with Jane has finished.

Although it’s been nearly an hour and a half since he left you, he’s not returned to the office so you call for Estrid but take a peek out towards the tower instead.

You don’t see them out there and are almost set to go look for him up there yourself when Estrid comes.

“Is everything alright, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, everything is wonderful Estrid. Do you know where Thor is?” you ask eagerly.

“I believe His Majesty is in his war room with Prince Loki, m’am.”

“Thank you, Estrid!” you zoom past her, unable to contain your excitement.

It feels like you’re literally flying down the halls as you make your way to your husband.

Your body is absolutely vibrating with glee. You’re weightless. Ecstatic. You’re so relieved that you’re not a failure. That you were able to give Thor and his people what they want more than anything else in the world. A future!

A beacon of hope. An assurance that the people of New Asgard will always have a place here on Earth. An heir.

As you reach the war room door, you see that it’s cracked open, Thor and Loki’s familiar voices spilling out from within.

You reach out for the handle.

“What did she say, Thor?!” Loki is demanding.

There’s something off about his tone.

Somewhere deep in your heart, fear strikes a cord. Panic. The weightless feeling your news has given you turns into numbness as your body recognizes danger before you do.

“She said she’s with child,” Thor spits, angry, frustrated, absolutely out of his mind with grief? “Jane said that she’s pregnant with my child.”

What?!

[whimsicalworldofme]

Saving Grace: Chapter Two

Grace confronts Fury and ends up even deeper into S.H.I.E.L.D's shady goings on.

Content warnings for this chapter: None

“Where do you get the absolute audacity to do that to me?” Grace asked as she stormed into Fury’s office at SHIELD’s New York headquarters, slamming the door shut behind her.

Pepper had been able to find someone to administer the paternity test for them at Stark Tower within the hour, so they’d gone ahead, but the whole time, all Grace could think of was how she’d give Fury a piece of her mind the minute they were through. He had requested she return to headquarters anyway for further business and the whole train ride over she mulled over exactly what she wanted to say. As a psychologist, it wouldn’t be a good look to run in yelling and screaming and she had planned to maintain calm, but the instant she saw his face, her rage boiled over.

“To walk me into a situation like that, to force me to reveal a thing that should have been revealed on my time table, in a way of my choosing?” She carried on while Fury stood behind his desk, expression flat, waiting for her to finish. “What is wrong with you? Is this how you intend to operate your Avengers initiative? To run SHIELD? Because if so, I’m not sure my partnership with either is going to work out.”

 She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for him to say anything in his defense, to assure her that it was a one-time thing and that their working relationship would be far more professional from that moment forward.

“I needed to incentivize you,” Fury stated.

 “Incentivize me to do what?” Grace didn’t like the sound of it. “What are you trying to coerce me into doing Fury? You know I don’t operate this way.”

He just stared at her, not answering, waiting for her, because they both clearly knew she felt the need to go on.

 “I’m a psychologist and a scientist, not one of your superheroes or secret agents,” she continued. “You will be honest and direct with me, or I won’t work with you, understand?”

“You get it out of your system?” He inquired flatly and she nodded. “Good, if you’re done yelling at me, I have something to show you.”

 “Why can’t you tell me what it is?” Grace challenged him. “It’s been a very trying day, and I’d really like to go back to my hotel.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Fury said as he walked past her to the door, opening it and gesturing for her to step out with him.

 With a huff, Grace turned on her heel and followed him out of the room. Again, she struggled to keep pace with him, but he noticed this time and slowed down. They made their way through the guts of that particular level of the office building, an open space full of techs and researchers at computer desks. It was grey and bland and if Grace didn’t know any better, she would think it was something like an insurance office. Fury led her into an elevator, pulled out a key from a breast-pocket of his trench coat, slipped it into a spot on the elevator panel, turned it and pressed the button beside it.

Well, that’s not suspicious at all, Grace thought as they began moving upward. Never a good sign when you have to have a secret key to access a place…in a shady secret government agency. Is it aliens? I can’t handle aliens today. Please.

 They rode in silence for a few seconds and when the door rattled open again, Fury took out the key, tucked it safely back into his pocket and stepped out into a vast open room. It was clearly the size of all the other floors of the building, but it had no windows, no separating walls. The floors were bare concrete and all the metal support structures were exposed.

 “What the hell is this?” Grace noticed a box made of particle board built up to one side, reminiscent of the backside of a stage set from a theatre production. Off to the other side, was a dimly lit medical setup with a group of people in scrubs and lab coats standing around a table, obscuring from sight whatever was there. “Do I even want to know?”

Fury looked down at her from over his shoulder and almost smiled. Almost.

 “This is the project I want you to stay in New York for.”

He led her over to the medical area, the people in scrubs and lab coats parted, letting them through to reveal a man in a mostly blue outfit lying on the examining table. The medics kept working, machines monitoring vitals signs, though Grace realized that his legs from the knees down were trapped in a block of solid ice. She wandered around the table, up to his face, his blond hair slicked back and though his face looked a little blue from the cold, recognition dawned on her.

“Captain America?” Grace gaped, looked from the frozen super soldier back to Fury. “How?”

“Classified,” Fury said. “We’re still bringing him back around. He was on ice the whole time. We don’t even know if he’ll wake up. But if and when he does, I want you responsible to bring him mentally into this century. You’re the best for the job, since you work with combat veterans.”

“I don’t know if I’m qualified to handle…” she looked up and down the length of the table at the man they were still actively chiseling out of ice, “this.”

“You’re more qualified than the dumbasses the board brought in.”

“What’s with the set?” Grace ignored his musings as she stepped out of the way of the medical team and headed towards the door set into the impromptu room.

“That is how I knew we needed you,” Fury followed behind her as she opened the door an stepped inside.

What the actual fuck?

Grace looked around at what appeared to be an approximation of a hospital room from the nineteen-forties. There was a large window on one wall and she could easily tell that the scene outside, the brick buildings also from the forties, was a photo backdrop. Even if she hadn’t known walking in that it was a set, it would’ve been easy to pick up on.

“The motherfuckers that the board brought in came up with a plan to make Captain Rogers believe he’d woken up in the forties, just after the war ended. Nurses in bullet bras and red lipstick, old recordings of baseball games and radio programs.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Grace snorted in derision. “I mean, the minute he goes to look out the window, he’s going to realize it’s fake,” she poked through the frame and watched the backdrop wobble. “There isn’t even glass in the pane.” Shaking her head, she turned around and folded her arms over her chest. “I studied the super soldier project in my doctorate program. I based a large portion of my thesis on it. Steve Rogers is a smart man. Too smart for this to ever work. I wouldn’t recommend this farce for any patient of mine. Dementia patients, maybe. They need to be rooted in what they remember, but this is a far different scenario.”

“I am aware,” Fury said, trailing a few feet behind as she wandered around the room, continuing her examination. “The doctor we have said he thought it best to ease Captain Rogers into the truth.”

“You don’t do it like this,” Grace groaned. Her stomach churned with a multitude of conflicting emotions as she glanced out the door and caught sight of the captain’s practically lifeless form. He’s going to face something horrifyingly reality shattering. How can I leave him in the hands of people so alarmingly incompetent? When Fury is asking me to step in and help?

“How are his EEGs?” Grace asked. “I assume his cognitive function is fine, otherwise you wouldn’t be working to bring him back around.”

“You’re welcome to look at his medical files,” Fury put his hands on his hips again, his go to pose when he needed to look powerful in charge and commanding. “If you agree to stay and take over as the doctor in charge of his care.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “I can’t just pick up and move to New York. I don’t have the money to move, and besides, my stuff is all in California, how would I get it here? It’s a logistical nightmare.” She thought of her work with Stanford, the experimentation and research she was facilitating between the medical and programming departments. That’s important work. I can’t just abandon it.

Looking back through the door, she hugged herself, feeling her heart ache for what Captain Rogers would go through when he woke, how alone he would feel. Despite having never met him, she felt a special connection to Captain Rogers, what with him having been so close to her grandfather. In college she had read as much of Howard’s research as possible, her only way to bond with him, and she knew how much the unconscious man in the next room meant as a friend to her grandfather.

He would want me to do this.

Pulling in a deep breath, Grace nodded. “I want this asinine set gone,” she commanded and Fury nodded. “I get that you can’t exactly take him to a hospital, for security purposes and all that, but you can outfit a modern room for him and still ease him into his new reality. I want him in a space with current medical equipment, a window with a real view, and for god’s sake, no actresses in costume,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yes ma’am,” the director agreed without hesitation. “We’ll get a moving team to retrieve your things and continue to pay your hotel bill until you find a place. In the meantime, Agent Coulson will see to whatever you need,” he ushered her back out of the set and into the empty office floor. “Coulson!”

A short man in a grey suit and leather oxfords stepped away from the rest of the team working on Captain Rogers. He had short brown hair, maybe balding a little up at the top, and kind, wide eyes. He smiled as he approached, his posture open and friendly.

“Dr. Turner, this is Agent Phil Coulson,” Fury introduced them. “Coulson, Dr. Briggs is fired, Dr. Turner will be taking over. Make sure she has everything she needs.”

“Of course,” Coulson nodded curtly.

“We’ll get you a key to the elevator,” Fury said as he began to walk away. “Until we can get him moved. You can check on him whenever you want. But otherwise, I’ll call when he wakes up.”

“Dr. Turner,” Coulson got her attention again and Grace turned back to him to see his hand extended. She shook it and watched Coulson grin. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m overseeing things in a general sense here, so whatever you need, let me know.”

“You can call me Grace,” she insisted with a smile. “So you’re not in charge here?”

“Oh no,” he laughed in a quiet way. “There’s a whole board of powerful players above me and Director Fury who pull all the strings.”

“That doesn’t sound shady at all,” she muttered under her breath, but Coulson just smiled.

“I can assure you everything is above board,” he said, stretching out a hand to gesture they should walk to the elevators. “Let’s go down to my office. We’ll get you all of Captain Rogers’ records.” They made it into the elevator in an unusual silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, just odd. “It must be exciting,” Coulson speculated, glancing over at her, “getting the chance to see your grandfather’s work in action.”

“Does everyone here know I’m Tony Stark’s daughter?” Grace shook her head. “I managed to keep it under wraps my whole life. I start working for this shady government cabal and now my identity is public knowledge.”

“Only Director Fury and I know,” Coulson reassured her. “It’s part of our job to know who we’re working with. “And I look forward to all the good work we’re going to hopefully do together.”

About an hour later, Grace left the building with four locked file boxes of paperwork pertaining to Captain Rogers, driven in a black agency SUV driven by an Agent who insisted she call her Hill. She had very pronounced, sharp facial features and her dark brown hair was pulled into a messy bun. When Coulson had called her into his office to escort Grace back to her hotel, she had been in a grey jumpsuit, complete with tactical gear and wearing combat boots. Now in street clothes, a white button-down blouse, navy pencil skirt, and sensible flats, she looked as though she could be a colleague of Grace’s from the university.

As they carried the boxes up to Grace’s room, Hill kept her head on a swivel and Grace knew she was likely making note of doors and windows, potential exits, and marking every single person in close proximity. In the hotel room, Hill did a sweep for intruders and hidden surveillance equipment, and insisted that she keep the safety lock in place.

For two days straight, Grace fell down a rabbit hole of research, combing over the files she’d been given. In all of her college research, she hadn’t had a full picture of the project, since it was highly classified. All the information that had been made public in the years since had been heavily redacted. These files didn’t have any such limitations. There were even personal notes from Howard. His handwriting looked very similar to hers, which was something she hadn’t known before.

“I wish there was any sort of neuroimaging,” Grace lamented. “I would love to compare the images of Captain Rogers brain to that of a non-enhanced human’s.” It wasn’t part of her assigned task at hand, so she pushed it out of her thoughts, instead buckling down to formulate a plan for Captain Rogers’ reintegration into modern society. She used her every day work with regular combat veterans as the basis and felt she had a solid methodology in place by the end of day three.

A knock on her door jolted her out of her hyper-focus. Whoever it was continued to knock, unceasingly even as she shuffled through the room to the door. Looking through the peep hole, she saw Tony staring back at her, still knocking. Unlocking the door, she swung it in, finally stopping the knocking.

“Mr. Stark,” she smiled.

“Dad,” he corrected, stepping back, holding his hands out in a ta-da sort of gesture, a bright smile lighting his face.

“How about Tony?” Grace laughed. “I’m assuming the test results came back?”

“The answer to the question of who’s your daddy has been answered and it is, resoundingly me,” he smirked, tapping his chest.

Grace couldn’t help but feel the same giddy lightness he seemed to embody in that moment. He stepped past her into the room and started taking a look around, assessing the space. Luckily, she had tucked the files all back into their locked boxes before he’d arrived and shut her laptop, so he wouldn’t see what she was working on. Not that she meant to keep it secret she was working for SHIELD, just that she wasn’t sure yet how much she could divulge.

“This is unacceptable,” he turned around after seeing the room she was in. “This is a prison cell, not a room. You’re coming back to Stark Tower, I won’t take no for an answer.”

Before Grace could reply, her cellphone rang. Fishing it out of the pocket of her jeans, she checked the screen and saw it was Director Fury.

“I’m so sorry, this is a work thing I have to take,” she hated to interrupt the moment, but it felt necessary. “Hello?”

“He’s awake,” was all Fury said, his tone plainly furious. It clicked for her that something must have gone wrong. “I need you to get here now.”

“I understand,” Grace felt her stomach sink as she realized she couldn’t immediately celebrate with Tony. The phone clicked on the other end, indicating Fury had already hung up. Frowning, Grace put her phone back in her pocket. “Tony, I’m so sorry, but I have a work thing I have to get to.”

“We’ll celebrate tonight,” he insisted. “My place for dinner. Seven sharp. I won’t take no for an answer, young lady,” he wagged a finger at her and she laughed.

“Yeah, ok,” she nodded, gathering up her purse and keys. “Seven sharp.”

Chapter One

Master List

Chapter Three

[cheesyficwriter]

I loved your last Rarry brotp fic! Can you please write one about Ron getting himself hurt during an Auror mission because he wanted to safe Harry? And Harry getting mad at him for saving him and getting himself in danger instead? I hope you understand what I mean 🤪 Thank you!

Hi there! Thanks so much for the request. I absolutely loved writing that drabble, and was overwhelmed by the pleasant response to it! Hope you enjoy this follow-up 😊💜

We Live - Rarry brotp drabble #1

CW: Talk of violence, injury, mild language

A True Partnership

In some ways, Harry believed that he and Ron had trained to become Aurors since they were 11 years old. Together, they were held accountable for any decisions made under extreme duress year after year at Hogwarts and beyond — quite frankly, they both, along with Hermione, should have been killed several times over by now.

For many years, Harry had an instinctual fight-or-flight response to the dire circumstances that presented themselves. He knew that every move he made affected his future, and the future of those around him in the wizarding world that he tried desperately to protect. 

Fast forward to the fall of 1998 when Harry and Ron underwent basic training together. During that time, they learned advanced tactics they would utilize in order to suppress any enemies, and were taught magical jurisprudence, ensuring that they apprehended criminals on legally valid grounds. For two men who consistently broke school rule after school rule at Hogwarts, this particular aspect of training was harped upon more than others.  

The Auror Academy was very stringent, and not for the faint of heart — Aurors needed a certain level of mental alertness and physical strength to engage in conflict. They had to have a willingness to act in high-stake situations. Split-second decisions would be made, with no certifiable way in those moments to determine whether or not those decisions would be the right ones. Training is meant to prepare Aurors for crises that may arise, but real missions out in the field often present the unexpected — what many don’t see coming. 

That’s what partners were for. A true partnership was built upon the following principles: trust, commitment, and shared meaning. 

Trust: Ensure that your partner unequivocally has your back in any situation, from a Dementor attack to preventing further mutiny, and will be there to cover up your blind spots. 

There was no one in the world that Harry trusted more than Ron Weasley, so his best mate was the obvious choice to be his partner out in the field. It took Harry a long time after the defeat of Voldemort for him to grasp that he no longer needed to be so guarded. In the event that Harry ever let down his defenses, he had full confidence that Ron would be there ready to assist. 

So, it shouldn’t have surprised Harry that there would come a time when he wouldn’t be quick enough, or stealthy enough, and Ron would be there to respond. 

It all happened so fast. One minute they were joking about pranking each other with puking pastilles, and the next moment they were surrounded by Death Eaters.  

“Harry, watch out!” 

A split-second decision. 

That single decision made by Ron to warn Harry of the danger distracted the ginger-haired man from his own, and a flash of red light shot straight through his abdomen. Harry watched in horror as Ron’s injured body crumpled to the ground. 

“No!” Harry shouted, and the fight to stay alive was a blur from there. All he knew was that he had to survive the battle — he had to survive and get his best friend, his partner, to safety. 

Commitment: The act of sharing a mutual appreciation. Both partners should be on board to protect each other for the long haul. 

Several agonizing hours later, Harry found himself pacing the floors of the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo’s. 

A Healer finally came out to give an update on Ron. Although pretty bruised up, and drowsy from the pain potion, he was okay and conscious. 

Beside him, Harry heard Hermione let out a strangled cry of relief. 

They allowed two visitors in at a time, so Harry and Hermione rushed down the busy corridor and practically threw themselves through the door to get to Ron. 

He was sitting up in his bed, a large, white bandage wrapped around his stomach, and his leg was propped up by a levitating sling. Ron's face, although initially contorted in pain, visibly brightened once he saw both of them. 

Hermione wasted no time running into Ron's arms, who responded by giving her a weak pat on the back that was no doubt meant to be comforting. "Hi, love."

Hermione sniffled as she kissed his cheek and pulled away, stepping back to allow Harry a moment to greet his best friend. 

When Ron's eyes shifted towards Harry expectantly, he laughed, "I dodged a bludger there, didn't I?" His face fell as he spotted the furious expression on Harry's face. 

"You," Harry glared at Ron, pointing a menacing finger in his direction. "I need to have a chat with you." 

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry didn't give him the chance. 

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left armpit were you thinking out there?"

"You could have gotten yourself killed!" Hermione piggy-backed off Harry's interrogation, a flurry of words streaming out through her mouth. "I mean, really Ron, out of all of the noble things you had to do, you think that—"

"Oi, knock it off, Hermione!" With a frustrated growl, Ron snatched his wand from the side table and whooshed closed the drapes around his bed, hiding Hermione from view. He then muttered a silencing charm for added effect.  

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Do you even realize what you’ve just done?” He didn’t want to be there to witness the aftermath of Ron’s decision to shut out Hermione. 

"I've already got you yelling at me, I don't need my girlfriend screaming in my ear, too, thank you very much,” Ron grumbled, letting his head fall back onto his pillow with a heavy sigh. 

Harry crossed his arms. "Well you wouldn't need us to chatter on as such if you hadn't very nearly kicked the bucket."

"Well, o'course not," Ron snapped. "I just saved your life, and all, but I'm the one who was in the wrong."

"I wouldn't have needed saving if you'd had just followed protocol and attacked those gits right away instead of worrying about me." 

"One of those fuckers had a wand aimed at the back of your head, what was I supposed to do?" Ron fought back. 

It was then that Harry realized Ron saw what he couldn't. His blind spot. A wave of guilt washed over him, and Harry knew he had no right to argue further.  

Ron looked down at his lap, his voice quiet. "When are you going to get it through your head that you can't always do it all by yourself, mate?"

The impact of Ron's words made Harry take a step back. The harsh silence that followed indicated to Ron that he was free to continue,

“We are a team. Partners. I know you’re so bloody proud, Potter, but you can’t expect to make the right decision every time. I am here to back you up. Always.”

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, overwhelmed by the love he felt for his best friend, his partner in crime, his brother. 

Shared meaning: An understanding or appreciation for your partner, and what values they stand for. 

Harry and Ron had managed their fair share of conflict over the years, finding the ability to compromise, solve problems, and take on the world together. They turned towards each other on a daily basis, whether it's to share a laugh over the strangest topics or provide emotional support. 

Their relationship went beyond a simple partnership. They were family. A unit. 

Harry choked out a laugh, "Okay, then. But it's my turn to be the hero next time, you hear?" 

A wide grin split across Ron's face. "Not if I beat you to it."

The drapes whooshed open again, revealing a very put out Hermione. "You two aren't honestly fighting over who gets to risk their life next, are you?" 

Harry and Ron share sheepish smiles, and a mutual understanding passes through them. 

Friendship is forever, and they will never stop finding ways to prove that. 

[lizaloveslevihan]

i have this headcanon where jean tries to get the 104th crew to believe that Levi/Hange are actually in a relationship, but no one believes him. so the group pools in a money bet that jean is wrong, but jean gets lucky and the 104th crew hides in the bushes and sees Levi/Hange quickly kiss each other. then sasha accidentally gasps too loud in shock, the couple hears them, and then Levi comes over and finds out about their bet and takes all their pooled money to treat Hange out on a date lmaooo

Title: The Bet

Ao3 Link: Here

Jean had absolutely enough of it. 

It had been a nice, quiet morning — the perfect way to start his day off. They had worked tirelessly the day before on construction, and so he was more than glad to be able to take some time off and relax with his friends. They were planning on going to town to hang out, and perhaps even stop by at Niccolo’s to get some of his food for lunch, as per Sasha’s request. He had a strong inkling, however, that the food wasn’t Sasha’s only motivation. 

He scoffed at the thought as he made his way down the unusually quiet hall. Those two were ridiculous. It was so obvious that they had feelings for one another, anyone could tell. He and Connie had discussed it multiple times behind her back, and they had even dropped more than enough hints about how Niccolo reciprocated her feelings. But she was stubborn and in denial about the whole ordeal. He couldn’t lie — it really frustrated him to a certain extent — especially since the person you held dear to you actually returned your feelings. Hopefully, he and Connie could finally push them in the right direction sooner than later because they more than deserve to be happy together. 

The halls would have been normally packed at this hour, but the commander, ever so gracious, gave almost everyone a day off so the rest of the soldiers had most likely slept in for the day. He had thought the silence to be a little comforting that morning, but the moment he turned at a corner, he immediately thought otherwise. 

Shit, he thought, already backing up ever so slowly, trying his hardest not to look at the sight in front of him, not again. 

He was lucky the captain had his face buried in Hange-san’s neck, and that the latter had her eyes closed, grumbling protests as she arched her back against the wall, otherwise Jean was a dead man. No, scratch that. He’d be more than a dead man. The captain would personally see to it that Jean would be cleaning the entire HQ with a toothbrush to atone for the embarrassment of being caught. He cringed as the inappropriate noises his two superiors made echoed louder across the empty halls, and he turned back once he reached the corner and all but ran away. 

More than disgust, he felt anger bubble in his stomach as he frustratingly used the longer route to the dining hall. Seeing them once was already too much for his eyes, but this was the seventh damn time. His only consolation was that they did it in the hallway this time around which provided him more space to escape. Nothing would ever top that incident where he caught them doing something much more scandalous in the supply closet. One would think that the captain, being an Ackerman and having all those keen and powerful senses, would notice if someone opened the door and walked in on him doing… things to their highest-ranking officer. But it seemed he was just too distracted in his indulgences . 

God , he couldn’t look at any of them in the eyes for almost a month after that. And the fact that they had met up with different dignitaries the day after and kept such a stoic and professional facade had really gotten to his nerves. 

Jean heaved out a deep sigh as he halted in the middle of the training grounds. The cool air calmed him down a bit as he ran his fingers through his hair in irritation. What was wrong with these people? Really? In the hallways? Where everyone could see you?

He looked up and stared at the horizon. Sure, he was frustrated in seeing his superiors, the people he considered to be his secondary parents, in a completely inappropriate and frankly, disgusting situation. But he was more annoyed at the fact that it was always him who kept walking in on them. He’d told the rest of his friends more than once about the captain and the commander’s affairs, but they never believed him, meaning that they’ve never encountered the unfortunate situation of seeing them together. The only person who was even remotely convinced was Armin, but at least he didn’t find it out the hard way. Lucky bastards. 

At the same time, however, his heart ached. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but there was a tinge of envy that latched itself onto his heart. Niccolo and Sasha, Hange-san and the captain — they were all the same. Jean allowed himself to wonder for a brief moment just how it would be like to have your feelings returned, to be able to hold the person you loved in your arms and kiss them whenever you could. Even in the oddest of places. 

He shook his head and started his journey once more to the dining hall. These were selfish moments he rarely let himself entertain. He thought about her beautiful dark hair, those hardened yet, soft gray eyes, and found himself at peace with the fact that she was happy. Even if it wasn’t with him. Jean let a long breath out. He hoped, at the very least, thoughts of her would be enough to erase the image of his superiors from his mind. 

He hoped. 

-------

“What’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

Jean looked up and glared at Connie who had an eyebrow raised as he forked a piece of fruit and shoved it in his mouth. He didn’t realize he’d been scowling the entire time during breakfast, but it seemed like it couldn’t be helped. So much for not letting that image ruin his mood. Damn it. 

“You idiots wouldn’t believe me if I told you anyway,” Jean huffed as he glanced at everyone else pointedly. The first person he saw was Mikasa, of course, who sat across from Eren. They kept eating their food silently, as usual. Sasha was in the middle of grabbing another chunk of meat while Armin was the only one who seemed genuinely interested in whatever Jean was going to say. His blonde friend paused, looked up at him, and spoke, “Is this about the captain and Hange-san again, Jean?”

This grabbed Sasha and Connie’s attention who immediately stared at Jean with amused expressions. 

“Come on, Jean. We know they’re always together,” Connie stretched out the last word, his mouth full of food as he waved his fork around in front of his face, “but like, together, together? I find that really hard to believe.”

“Plus, the captain? Feelings? Love? ” Sasha scoffed, taking a large bite of the meat in front of her and then resting her arm on Connie’s shoulder, “Doesn’t sound like he’d be the type. He’s always grumpy and Hange-san is the complete opposite. I don’t even know if he’s capable of being someone’s… partner .”

Jean raised an eyebrow at her as he propped up his elbow and rested his chin on his palm, “And what do you know about love and partnerships, huh Sasha?”

Sasha obviously hadn’t been expecting that jab, which then prompted her to start choking on her meat and slamming the table with her fist. 

“Oi! Sasha!” Connie exclaimed, immediately standing up and moving behind her to perform the Heimlich maneuver. After about five seconds, she spat out a large piece of beef which landed right in front of Armin who conveniently sat next to Jean himself. Instead of disgust, Armin just sighed, took his tray, and moved to Jean’s other side. 

“The hell was that, Jeanboi?!” Sasha cried out after chugging down a glass of water. Her face was all red from the near-choking experience, which was a convenient way to hide any blush. Jean, who had stood up out of concern earlier now sat back down as he took in his friend’s question. Connie slapped a hand to his forehead as he moved back to his old position. Eren and Mikasa sat there unmoving as expected. 

“It was a simple question,” Jean said calmly, taking a sip of his water. His friend was annoyingly way too obvious. “Didn’t know you’d be so affected by the whole concept of love .”

Sasha had the absolute audacity to give him a confused look as Connie tried stifling his laughter by putting a hand over his mouth. “It just took me off guard, okay? I don’t know anything about love ,” she argued, her face still flaming hot as she gave Jean a pointed look before going back and shoving more food down her throat. He looked to Connie who rolled his eyes as his lips turned into a smirk, and before Jean was about to straight-up call her out for her obvious feelings towards the Marleyan chef, the large wooden doors of the dining hall opened loudly. 

“Good morning, everyone!” Hange-san’s cheerful voice echoed across the large room. Jean groaned inwardly as he made no move of looking at her and the captain, whom he was pretty sure was next to her if not trailing behind her. He still had yet to get the image of them in the hallway out of his head, and he prayed that they weren’t going to be staying too long. If they were, then he had to start racking his brain for a good excuse to get out of there. 

“Good morning Hange-san,” Armin greeted, a small smile on his lips. Everyone else nodded in recognition as the commander went to stand in front of the end of the long table, a relaxed smile gracing her lips. The captain was instantly by her side, crossing his arms and glancing at everyone with his usual passive expression. However, there was something different with the way he held himself together. His shoulders were more relaxed, his eyebrows weren’t as scrunched up, and he had a faint blush on his cheeks. They were both dressed in their civilian attire and seemed ready to leave. Jean didn’t notice all of these, of course. He kept his head down and continued to silently eat his food. 

“Just wanted to let you guys know that Levi and I will be going out to town today to check on some of the infrastructures,” the commander spoke, both in a friendly and semi-authoritative tone, her brown eyes sparkling slightly with excitement over the innovations they were doing on the island, “I take that all of you will be going out to town as well?”

“Yeah, we’re planning on going around and visiting Niccolo for lunch. Sasha’s missed his food already.” Armin said, a slightly teasing tone on his part. Jean knew that Armin had been on board with the whole “getting Sasha and Niccolo together” agenda. He was even the first person to notice their affections for one another. But he had chastised Jean and Connie for pushing it to happen. He argued that it was much better for them to figure things out themselves which he insisted would happen naturally. Jean and Connie shared some of his sentiments but ultimately got tired of the incessant mutual pining. But then again, Jean thought suddenly, if those two would get together then he would not only have one but twice the chance of finding himself in another unfortunate and disgusting situation. The thought of walking in on Sasha and Niccolo multiplied his feelings of annoyance which made him bring a hand to his face to start massaging his temples. 

“Everything okay, Jean?” Hange asked suddenly, concerned. She maneuvered her way next to him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Jean yelped a little before removing his hand from his face and looking up at her. Damn it , he thought, his face heating up, he still couldn’t take that image earlier from his head. It also didn’t help how he started thinking of all the times he had caught her, Uhm, aroused expression. “I’m fine, Hange-san. Just a little headache. Nothing to worry about.”

The commander’s eyebrows scrunched together and Jean couldn’t help but break eye contact and stare at the wall behind her shoulder. He knew how protective Hange-san could be at times. She wasn’t as overbearing as his mother, but he still prayed then and there that she would just accept his response and leave his personal space. 

“Don’t overwork yourself, alright? Or any of you,” she added, looking up and down the row, “It’s your day off. You all did a wonderful job yesterday and deserve to rest. If you want, you can just stay in your room and take a nap or something. Going into town can be tiring and—”

“The brat said he was fine, Hange,” the captain spoke up, his expression unreadable as always as he directed his gaze towards the two, “Stop doting on him. He can take care of himself. I mean, look at how big he’s gotten.”

There was a hint of bitterness at his voice which Hange simply laughed at. She gave Jean’s shoulder a light squeeze before catching his eye and giving him a small smile. Jean nodded and gave her a tight-lipped smile of his own, hoping that it would be enough. Hange searched his eyes for a bit as if making sure he really was okay, before nodding and moving back to the captain’s side. “Don’t stay out too long, alright? We still have a meeting with Zackley tomorrow and I expect everyone to be there.” her face suddenly shifted and became a little stern. 

“Yes, commander,” everyone spoke simultaneously. 

“Come on,” Captain Levi suddenly started walking away without a glance back. Hange scrambled after him as she laughed and shook her head, all the while mumbling something beneath her breath. The moment the door closed behind them, Armin stood up which grabbed everyone’s attention. 

“Jean is right, guys,” he spoke, glancing down at the man, “There’s really something going on with the captain and Hange-san. I may not have seen it but I can tell.”

Connie scoffed as Sasha shook her head. “They’ve always been like that. They’ve been close friends for years , haven’t they?” Connie explained, “I just can’t see them making out and holding hands or being all weird and sweet with one another just like what Jean keeps saying.”

“That’s because you actually didn’t , Connie,” Jean frowned, “If any of you idiots actually saw them making out or worse , then we wouldn’t be having this dumb conversation. And yeah, they’ve been close friends for years which all the more makes it reasonable for them to get together and shit.”

“If that’s the case then Sasha and I should have gotten together years ago too, huh?” Connie jabbed, elbowing Sasha who started to laugh at the idea. Jean rolled his eyes and swore under his breath. There really wasn’t any point in arguing with everyone, especially those two. All he could hope for was that the captain and the commander would eventually slip up and display their affections for the rest of the world to see.

“Okay, how about this,” Connie started, standing up as well and spreading his arms, his eyes twinkling, “They’re going to town, right? What if we follow them for a couple of hours and see how they act around each other without us? That way we can really prove if they have a romantic relationship or not.”   

Jean raised an eyebrow at his friend. That was a bad idea. As much as he wanted to prove to everyone otherwise, he wasn’t really keen on following those two and seeing more of them than he already had. There was also the whole issue with Captain Levi. He’d like to think that Hange-san wouldn’t really mind getting caught, but what if she did? Now that would also cause some problems. But Sasha was already nodding her head and agreeing to the plan. Even Eren glanced up, a little curious about the situation. Mikasa scoffed but said nothing. 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, guys.” Armin said, being the voice of reason once again, “What if we—”

“Don’t worry, Armin. We’ll be careful. Besides, it’s everyone’s day off so a lot of us should be going to town, right?” Sasha argued, “It’ll be crowded which would make it easier to follow them, undetected.”

“And!” Connie smirked, digging into his pocket before placing a handful of money on the table, “We should all place a bet on it! Whoever wins with their argument gets to split the money.”

“Oh! And we should put lunch on the losing side’s tab!” Sasha grinned, confident that she would be getting a free lunch, “Oi Mikasa, Eren, what side are you guys on?”

She turned towards the pair and was surprised to find that Mikasa was the first one to speak. “That shorty? And Hange-san?” she shook her head and placed a wad of cash on top of Connie’s pile before proceeding to finish the rest of her food, “Hange-san is too good for that runt.”

Jean, a little stunned at how willing she was on playing this dumb game, gave a minuscule shake of his head. Sure, Hange-san was much livelier and friendlier, but the captain had a hidden kindness within him that Jean had seen with the way he had made tea for everyone one particularly tense evening when negotiations with the volunteers were difficult to achieve. He saw it in the way he oversaw some of their training and heavily criticized their skills, even going as far as demonstrating how to fight better. He saw it in the way he always looked to Hange-san whenever they were in a stressful and tense meeting, concern evident in his eyes. Throughout all these years, he could confidently say that Captain Levi was a good and kind man, and he was pretty sure even Mikasa knew that despite her small dislike for him. 

Connie smiled triumphantly and looked at Jean with an “I told you so” expression plastered on his face. Before he could say anything more, Eren spoke up. “I agree with Jean and Armin. The captain and Hange-san have a deep bond.”

Could this day be more full of surprises? He glanced over at Eren who didn’t even look up. His tone and voice, though dry and quiet was filled with an assurance Jean couldn’t place his finger on. Eren had been like that for a bit of time now, which Jean could only connect with him seeing his father’s memories and the anxiety of facing enemy forces outside the island. He didn’t think Eren, out of all people, would even care to talk about this sort of thing, especially given how oblivious he was to Mikasa’s feelings for him. He shook his head again and focused on Armin’s surprised face. He didn’t seem to expect Eren to participate in this small gamble either. No one did. Armin studied his face a little bit before nodding, suddenly looking pleased. “That’s good then. So three against three.” 

Jean was a little hesitant to bet with money out of all things (and lunch), but the moment Armin fished out a good amount of his own and placed it on the table, he felt as if he had no choice but to follow through as well. He stared at the growing pile of cash and started to wonder how he would be spending his share. Oh well. He could think about that after he stuffed himself with some free lobster. 

“Wait so who would keep the money for now?” Sasha asked, looking around the table, “ I’d love to , but I might lose all that that cash —”

“Not to mention, you might accidentally keep some for yourself,” Connie rolled his eyes. He started reaching out for the pile, “Here, I’ll take it —”

“ No ,” Armin said firmly, already whipping out an empty pouch and started shoving in loads of cash, “If any of you two kept it, it’d be a disaster, to say the least. We’re giving it to Mikasa.”

For the first time in his life, Jean silently prayed for the captain and commander to actually give them a show. 

They better not let him down. 

-------

Jean, once again, had absolutely enough of it. 

It was hot, the streets were crowded, and they hadn’t anticipated the idea that their two superiors wouldn’t just be looking at the infrastructure. After checking with some of the other builders, they had also gone to the public library, the market, and into the small tea shop, everyone knew Captain Levi loved. They acted the same as they would whenever the rest of them were there, which was both disappointing and relieving for Jean. It didn’t help how rowdy Connie and Sasha were the entire time — making jokes and commentary on just how special their relationship was. They kept going on about how walking together was so “ romantic ” and how going to buy tea was so “ nerve-wracking .” Jean wanted to bash his head against the wall. Actually, he wanted to bash their heads against a wall. If they had paid closer attention, they would have seen the soft gazes the captain directed to Hange-san the entire time, or how she went out of her way to pay for the tea and buy an extra tin for him. These two were being ridiculous and it had gotten to the point where he would rather just pay for their lunch instead of spending another hour going around in a futile attempt to disprove them.

Armin, Mikasa, and Eren were silent most of the time but they overall didn’t seem to mind what was going on. Like Sasha said, It was a good thing that the streets were crowded which made it easier to hide from the two. They eventually ended up in the local park where they sat down on a bench and seemed to start having a serious discussion. The six of them all sat by a large tree behind the two, only half-observing them. 

“Can we just declare victory already? I’m so hungry,” Sasha complained, wiping sweat away from her forehead. Connie nodded, shooting Jean a disgruntled look. 

“Oi! Don’t look at me like that!” Jean exclaimed, stretching his long legs across the grass and pointing an accusing finger at the two, “This wasn’t even my idea.”

“There wasn’t anything wrong with going out, you guys,” Armin said, rolling his eyes as he continued to stare at their two superior officers. “Besides, it’s only eleven. We can stay here for a couple of minutes more, and Jean, Eren, and I will treat the rest of you to the seafood.”

Armin had a disgruntled look, a little frustrated with the situation as well. His gambles had always been correct and so this was new territory for him. Eren rolled his eyes and scoffed, however, there was still a knowing look plastered across his face. He lifted his finger and pointed to the two, “They’re getting up.”

At this, everyone whipped their heads to look at the “couple.” When they started making their way to where the six of them sat, Armin immediately whispered-yelled, “Quick! Everyone to the bushes!”

They all collectively scrambled to hide behind a large bush that surprisingly managed to obscure all of them together. Because this section of the park was rather quiet and relatively free of people, they all heard each footstep and noise the two had omitted. Which turned out to both be a good and horrible thing. 

“Do you think they’ll get back soon?” Hange asked, her voice harboring a mischievous edge to it. 

“Those brats are still going to eat lunch. That should take a while, considering one of them is obsessed with the Marleyan.” Levi scoffed at her. 

Sasha knitted her eyebrows and blushed fiercely, and because her curiosity got the best of her, she tore away one of the branches in the bush and made a space to watch the two converse. 

“Aw, Sasha and Niccolo are just so adorable ,” Hange cooed, sitting against the large tree where they previously sat, giving everyone a perfect view of her and Captain Levi. “It’s a shame neither of them has figured out their feelings yet. They would be so nice together.”

Levi raised an eyebrow before hesitantly coming to sit next to her. “You’d actually let the soldiers date?” he asked incredulously, a disbelieving expression on his face. “And why do we have to sit on the fucking ground out of all places?”

“I told you, it’s much chiller under here,” Hange smiled softly, “And, well, Sasha is a big girl. I’m sure she wouldn’t let that distract her from her duties. Kind of reminds me of the good old days.”

“But then why do we still have to fucking hide around?” Captain Levi asked, a small pout making its way to his lips. Jean tilted his head slightly just to catch Connie and Sasha’s eyes widening. Mikasa had a look of absolute disgust, while Eren and Armin both had a small smirk on their face. 

“ Because , clean-freak,” Hange rolled her eyes, grabbing his hand with one of her own and caressing his cheek with the other, “We have to be proper role models. And,” she grinned naughtily, leaning towards the captain, “Isn’t it much more exciting to have a forbidden relationship ?”

Though she said that last part much softer, everyone still heard her. The bold statement alone was already enough to garner a reaction from the rest of the group, but then the captain hummed in agreement before quickly grabbing the commander’s head and pressing his lips against hers. They would have gotten away with this entire situation if only Sasha hadn’t gasped so loudly and if Connie hadn’t jumped up and away, both their faces flaming red. Though Jean felt immense satisfaction at seeing not only Sasha getting called out, as well as them finally witnessing the captain and Hange-san’s secret love affair , he felt his blood run cold. He sat there, frozen, sure that any second now the adults would be coming for him and his friends. 

It wasn’t long before Hange-san and the captain appeared before them. And though the latter had an incredibly annoyed expression, his arms crossed and all, he didn’t seem angry as Jean expected. Hange-san simply harbored an amused expression on her face as she giggled at everyone’s positions. “Well, so much for a forbidden relationship, huh, Levi?”

“Which one of you brats was responsible for this?” the captain huffed, his face tinged a little red as he glared at every single pair of eyes. Eren and Mikasa simply gave him a passive expression, though Jean could swear that the latter had been annoyed with the way she sneered at the captain. Connie and Sasha were sprawled all over the grass, their faces flaming even more at the sight of their two superiors. After a couple of seconds, Armin stood up and calmly spoke, “We all made a bet on the nature of your relationship and decided to follow you, captain.”

The adults looked at each other, seemingly speaking through their minds. Jean never really figured out how they did that, but he supposed it was from years of fighting together side by side. After a few tense seconds, Hange-san burst out in laughter. “I’m surprised it took you kids this long to figure it out,” she giggled, surprising everyone with her words, “I thought for sure we would have been caught a while ago. Levi isn’t exactly subtle—”

“Oi! Don’t put this on me!” Levi said, scandalized. “ You’re the one who insisted I come along today—”

“Wasn’t it you who insisted?” Hange said, putting a hand on her hip, “I told you, I was going to meet up with Onyankopon—”

Everyone stared at them with wide eyes as they continued to bicker like an old married couple. Jean was prepared to kneel and beg the captain not to make them scrub the toilets at HQ. He was also prepared to lie about the situation and make something up that would ease the situation. He was also prepared to run the fuck away and blend back into the crowd. He wasn’t prepared, however, for the two adults to find amusement in the situation and continue to flirt their hearts out. What the fuck?

“For fuck’s sake, we have better things to do.” the captain finally said, slapping a palm on the commander’s face, cutting off her story about how he expertly persuaded her to do things in Zackley’s office years ago ( thank god he did that) , “You brats said you made a bet? 

Everyone nodded, save for Mikasa. Connie and Sasha were finally starting to snap out of it, though, Jean couldn’t tell. Their faces were still on fire and they still refused to make eye contact. 

“Pay the fuck up then.” the captain said firmly, stretching out the hand that wasn’t on the commander’s face, “We don’t have all day. Hand that shit over and go back to headquarters if you brats don’t want to clean the entire fucking castle with a toothbrush.”

Jean’s eyes shifted to the commander who finally took off the captain’s hand off her face. A few tense seconds passed before Mikasa sighed, stood up, and placed the pouch on top of the captain’s hand. The Ackermans glared at each other, pretty much like they always do, before Mikasa gave him a tight-lipped smirk and walked away. 

“Now kids,” Hange-san said, leaning down and putting up a finger as the captain started to count the money, “Following your superior ranking officers around town the entire morning and delving into their personal lives isn’t really nice.” she said, her brown eye gleaming and her voice dripping with obvious sarcasm, “However, I must commend you for taking the initiative to ah, survey the situation and going out of your way to discovering the, hmm, truth . I’m proud of all of you.”

“Now get lost.” The captain spat out before Jean could even comprehend the commander’s words. They immediately did as they were told and ran the hell away from the weird couple. Connie tripped twice and Sasha pressed her hands to her head, muttering “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” over and over again. Armin was a little flustered as he shook his head, and Mikasa had an incredibly disgruntled and disgusted look on her face. Jean met Eren’s eyes as they ran away, and he gave him a small smile — the first he had seen in a long time. 

Jean felt a mix of emotions. He was startled and confused. He was also satisfied and pleased. But most of all, he was frustrated at the fact he wasn’t able to get free lobster. 

Oh well , he thought as they finally came to a halt by the exit of the park, he’d surely get full from all the gloating he was about to do. 

-------

“So that’s why you sent them back home.” Hange chuckled as she sat in front of him. 

Levi scoffed as he started to peruse the menu. “If I didn’t then they’d just bother us here too.”

“You’re just grumpy because you lost the bet, captain.” Hange hummed, drumming her fingers on the table as she started to flip through the menu as well, “I told you they were onto us. Or that they already knew. You didn’t listen.”

“Whatever, Commander .” Levi huffed, “I’m getting your free lunch already, as promised. Stop rubbing it in.”

“But that’s not exactly fair since you stole the kids’ money.”

Levi glared at her as Niccolo finally appeared in front of their table. 

“Oh! Commander Hange! Captain Levi! What can I get you two—”

“We’ll have two orders of the lobster and some tea,” Levi said, already knowing what Hange was going to order, “And here,” he grabbed half of the amount they had collected from the kids and shoved it into Niccolo’s hands. “Take Sasha out once we get back from Marley, you hear me? Don’t be a chicken shit about it.”

The chef stared at him blushed furiously, “I uh— I don’t know—”

“If I were you, I’d just listen to him, Niccolo.” Hange smiled, patting his arm gently, “I’m sure she likes you too.”

Niccolo just stood there, looking back and forth between the two, his face incredibly red. Hange couldn’t help but chuckle again. Ah, this reminds me of the good old days.

“Stop standing there and get our food,” Levi huffed, crossing his arms and looking up at the kid, “You look like a constipated freak.”

He eventually pocketed the cash, making sure it was okay to do so, and scurried back to the kitchen.

“Happy now? I’ll get you cookies from the bakery after we eat, okay?” Levi said, staring at her pointedly. 

She looked at him affectionately before straightening her back in her position, “Do you think he’ll really do it?”

“Tch.” Levi said, a small grin tugging his lips as his eyes softened, taking in her beauty, “Don’t underestimate him. If I could do it, then he could do it too.” 

[pen-observing]

I finished my fic with this theme and I did the brothers reacting to this. So how could I, an undatables enthusiast, not make this? It took a while but it’s here. Some brain cells were involved in the making of this post,,,, I guess?

MASTERLIST

How the undatables react/pursue you after Diavolo cheats on you while married

Diavolo:

Why is he here? Well you see-- why not

In the human world some believe that the ultimate proof of love is giving the cheater another chance, fighting to salvage a relationship

In all honesty, Diavolo never expects that from you, nor does he hope such a thing can happen

He curses himself for a momentary weakness. A prince, a ruler, so easily swayed and influence does not carry any nobility or respect

He may be the most influential, the most powerful- but he starts seeing himself as weak

He hides away from his thoughts in work, in new holidays, in friendships and partnerships and in excuses

He tries not to give those thoughts space to grow

But, the damage has been done

Diavolo’s worst enemy and worst critic, the one who judges him the most is himself

He knows that with this one deed (some may call it a momentary lapse in judgement) he has undone all the work it took years to build

He knows that falling into temptation is the biggest mistake he has ever made; especially because he cannot bear to have you hate him when he loves you so much

Diavolo has no guts to admit that after what he did, he believes he has no right to claim it face-to-face

So, he randomly visits Lucifer to see you, ask about you. He tasks Barbatos with keeping you safe. Little Ds are ordered to make your life easier without being noticed

Because of what happened, he doubts that he deserves the place and title of a King

And, you notice that the most- in the smiles, in the speeches, in the doubt and guilt that radiates off from him

The only way to salvage this and get back together lies with you. If you, after so much time can forgive but not forget. If you can wish to grow into a union once more.  

He goes along with your wish for divorce just as quickly as he goes for your wish of reconciliation.  

He does not force you, he respects whatever you decide.

Barbatos:

Probably the one which would provide the most material for gossip and speculation, in theory

In practice, it’s like a 500k slow burn romance

Here is why; Barbatos is a man of duty and loyalty to the person that hurt you. He finds no amusement in being the center of gossip nor does he wish for you to go through the dirt. Devildom is such a cruel place, you cannot even imagine what could come your way if the relationship was established early on.

Besides, it is even hard for you to not have Barbatos remind you of Diavolo once the relationship first breaks

Babratos gives you time to heal and move on before he does anything which can show his romantic interest

He knows how charming you are, he knows your habits and he knows that he must be patient before a true connection can be established

So, how does it happen? Well, after healing from Diavolo you naturally, through fate or the wonder of time, need to spend some time in the same circle

Obligations, work and friendships bring you together in a weird way

The balls and parties are something you must attend and because Barbatos knows you, he knows just what you like

The perfect place for you to sit which is neither too warm nor too hot, a place far away from people you do not like in their world but close enough so that you do not miss anything important or fun. For some reason, it always smells like your favorite scent too

The perfect place, the perfect tea, the delicious food with small hidden notes which do not give away his intention but do show his affection  

It just grows more and more unbearable  

The lingering stares, the short but warm goodbyes, the way his hands just brush against yours for a moment longer than usual when he takes your coat

It creates a magical attraction inside that long game, which, as expected, Barbatos is better at than you

You try to find him alone and, in those moments; inside the kitchen or under the stairs while everyone is far away dancing, it becomes just the world of you two

His tone is warmer, he is more direct. You sometimes, inside such short pauses, are able to exchange warmth. In conversations, in the longing looks, in the way his hand holds yours. In the way he gently takes your wrist, puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you back inside a world which is overabundant in fancy but doesn’t feel meaningful without him in it

Sometimes, it can even hold a soft kiss

But, it becomes torture. Enough is enough. His privacy starts to seem like secrecy to you for all the wrong reasons. As a human, you aren’t patient enough to wait 4 years until something, anything happens  

So, you seek him out at the next party. They’re too rare in your opinion now. You seek him out and find him on the stairs as he goes to complete another task.

Bravery or foolishness, it does not matter which of the two makes you stop him. Makes you ask him; when? When will this secrecy end?

In reality, it doesn’t really matter. He would probably kabedon you on the stairs (as a true gentleman! don’t get it twisted!)

He holds time itself in his hands and yet you asked him.  

He whispers: “All in good time, my love. All in good time.”  

And leaves you like that.

So, what is the good time?  

It is already the point where you forgot about Diavolo but; has Diavolo forgotten about you?

That is what Barbatos waits for. He sees no need to ask his lord such a thing. Diavolo notices it himself. How could he not? Diavolo also knows that he does not love you anymore.

So, the next time Diavolo comes to the kitchen and sees your favorite tea (the one he never drinks) he gives Barbatos the permission, the freedom to go pursue you.  

After all, it is time.

Simeon:

The most empathic out of everyone.  

The best choice even

Why? With him, you would only feel compassion and care.

Gentleness.  

There is no drama that could follow you when you turn to him.

He has not sworn loyalty to Diavolo. He is not his partner. He lives in a completely different realm.  

It is really the exact change that you need. At first, it seems so odd because you are used to a completely different world but; it is comfort. It is care. It is everything that helps you heal

In truth, Simeon’s instinct gravitates towards that. It gravitates towards making sure that you heal in all aspects. Physically, emotionally- most importantly- your soul should shine like it used to

After you start that process it brings long conversations where you two ponder over what it means to live and love. You discuss theories and opinions. Simeon has loved longer than you, he has seen countless love stories- he even wrote some.

This process can even inspire him to flesh out a new character

In actuality, Simeon warned both Diavolo and you with masqueraded words about what marriage truly means before you got married

So now, he doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ or ‘Why didn’t you listen to me’. He just hopes that you won’t grow to hate the whole institution and tradition that marriage is

And honestly? Simeon shows you unrequited love so, how could you ever think that with him?

Here, you will be the first to realize your emotions and you will probably need to act on them first as well

Solomon:

He is somewhere in the human world, inside a secret room of an abandoned castle just thinking of new spells when he gets a text from Asmo about what happened

Dramatic as fuck gasp while his potion drops to the floor and now the floor is pink

Solomon, with all the years that he has been alive, with all the pacts and mistakes he has made- still is more human than the rest of them

This does not mean that he will be the best at comforting you but he already packed the most important things to go and see you. Is that not enough to show immediate care?

Instead of comforting you by himself he spends time in the House of Lamantation, working with the rest of the brothers  

Time has passed, you both have changed so it takes a bit for him to get familiar with you again and to work out your habits

Probably tries to joke like: “Even if that red tree branch offered me to make a pact with him I would refuse for your sake.”

It shows that, despite all the flaws and morally gray actions, he stands on your side- not his

But, life inside that house has to move on. He can’t really stay calm and tied down to it for months and as he is preparing for his next trip- he asks you to go with him

It is a true change of pace. You will experience new things you never dreamed of. He can teach you magic. He can show you places in the human world full of it

He promises to make sure that you are safe

So you set off with him

It is a grand adventure. It holds both comfort and new things that only make you grow.  

It holds his teasing as well but he never lets anything bad happen to you

He realizes his affections before you but you are so busy taking in the world’s wonders that he keeps them a secret for just a while longer because you are so excited. Your eyes shine and he just knows you have new stories to remember and uncover at the same time

You don’t realize yours until Solomon makes it clear to you, in a sly way.

You stand outside of enchanted ruins. The sky is bright blue with pink lines. Solomon says: “And who would have thought that one of the most powerful witches got cheated on by the man who allegedly enchanted this ruin when he was young? Hmm?~”

And really, who would? You realize then how that did not even cross your mind. How could it? Here you are with Solomon on another adventure that sparked more love as the sky dances for your new story.

Luke:

Has it been years since you got married? Yes

Has Luke grown to love demons? Absolutely not. Are you kidding me?

He throws his little hat to the ground when he finds out

Never trust their kind.  That's what he says

Sure Diavolo had a noble goal once but after this? Once Luke’s good opinion is lost it is lost forever

Baby is very dramatic about the whole thing

How dare that evil creature hurt you? Luke was teary eyed at your wedding and he is teary eyed the next time he sees you  

But

He tries his best. He really does.

He doesn’t have wisdom like Simeon. But he asks him for advice.  

Best believe the only way Diavolo will taste one of his treats again is if Luke yeets it in his face 

Firstly, tumblr better fix their tags because it is unbearable! Now you may ask; yooo why is Barbatos’ so long? Cus thats my boo and he is the main reason I decided to write these reactions in general

[redcrossroads]

I really love your partnership AU of Allen and Kanda! It's really amazing! Also love Tiedoll in there because that man is awesome! Yu completely and utterly denying to e everyone that Allen is Noah. How would this partnership continue with that recent arcs? The whole Alma Karma thing? Would the two of them share their own messed up past?

Thank you 💜

There's hardly any time in the Alma Karma arc to have hearts to hearts with the on-going battle around them, but Allen has a personal investment to Kanda's happiness due to them being begrudging friends who regularly beat sense into each other.

He's twice as enthusiastic about making these two idiots see reason after Wisely shows him Kanda's memories on accident and about 4 times angrier that it was done without Kanda's permission.

Needless to say Wisely goes home with more than a migraine. Poor smartass earns himself a place on Allen's personal shitlist.

Kanda, meanwhile has trouble in telling Allen to mind his own goddamn business.

Which he doesn't. C'mon it's Allen. He'd never let Kanda repeat the same mistake he did with Mana. Just because they have different circumstances doesn't mean killing someone you love hurts any less.

Of course, that ends with Allen accidently getting stabbed by Kanda.

The fight ends similar to the Manga one. The notable difference is that Allen doesn't let himself get locked up in a cell.

Oh, hell no. He uses another Ark gate and vanishes. From what little Kanda has told him about the Order, about what Cross explained to him and what he's seen, he knows how this will end. In disaster and torture.

(Allen might be alone now, but it doesn't change his mission. He wants to save people, wants to honor the promise made in Mana's name. The Order was...a fresh start to an old life, an opportunity, maybe even home, but those were luxuries he doesn't need to survive. Not anymore. Not after Mana. All he needs is his promise and the memory of a red-painted smile and sun-golden eyes.

Walker couldn't have suited him better. Always wandering from place to place, never settling down for long.)

Better get a head-start while he could.

Apocryphos wastes no time hurrying after him the moment he takes care of Cross, while the Order is trying to find Allen.

The Noah don't have much luck either in locating him. The magic Cross taught him made it easier to hide himself, he's never been more grateful to the man for teaching him.

Link still gets his special mission and Atuuda.

Kanda goes after Allen. He's got his happy ending with Alma. Nobody can take that closure away from him. But Allen needs all the help he can get and it's 50% Kanda's fault for stabbing him that they're now in this mess.

He hunts Allen down with Johnny and tells him that since he saved him and Alma, Kanda is technically his problem and he'll have to take responsibility for that. Which means letting Kanda return the favor.

Deep, deep down beneath the frantic panic and the grief and aggravation, Allen is so very, very grateful.

Although, he'd sooner bite off his tongue than let Kanda know his presence is appreciated. Who knows what other stupid ideas he'd think of.

Two desperate last minute ditch efforts to lose Kanda in some city and a frustrating screaming match that ends up in a breakdown wrestling match in some bush later, Allen finally gives up on getting rid of Kanda.

They still end up in Allen's hometown, where Allen, who's only told Kanda about Mana and his first friend in scrapes, finally comes clean about his backstory.

A story for a story.

Kanda is furious. Maybe even ashamed. Teasing Allen with a nickname for his reactions was amusing. He'd never thought there could be so much meaning attached to a name, so much pain.

Kanda hadn't thought Allen never really had a name at all. How much it would hurt to be denied to use it when it's all he's ever wanted. The only gift he ever got.

Strangely enough, Allen never seems to mind. He calls Kanda creepy for the changes in his behavior with the full on dramatics of a clown. Maybe it's because Kanda gave him a name of his own that he'll let it slide.

It's a race against time to find that mansion Allen dreams about. They end up stopping by Mother & Baba for a visit. To maybe get a few clues, since Allen refuses to believe the rumors that Cross is dead.

There is no information to be gained, but Mother offers food, a place to rest for the night, solemn smiles through tired eyes. Baba offers hugs, coaxes him to smile, reminds him he's picked himself up once, he can do so again.

There's a photo of him kept in a frame. Tiny and just glued back together, standing next to Cross with Tim slung across his chest.

Kanda makes a snide remark about how the Bean did grow into a Sprout and suddenly, Allen can breath again. Thankfully, he doesn't start crying again.

Kanda never knew what to do with his tears.

Basically it's a road-travel arc where Allen and Kanda go looking for the Campbell mansion while desperately trying to avoid the Noah and the Order, Apocryphos and Link.