heavy door

promise pt. 3

Originally posted by dr-spencer-reid-though

characters: spencer x wife!reader, ellie (daughter!oc), bau team

summary: spencer returns to the bau to keep his promise to his daughter and save you. but he is not ready what waits for him. his strength is tested.

warnings: torture, injury to the reader, talk of death, and one vague allusion to suicide if you squint. 

words: 1.6k

a/n: here it is y’all!!!! this is the part where shit starts to get a little gruesome, so you’re warned. please message me and tell me what you think!!!!

series masterlist

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Nothing More [ I ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 6.8k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.

Part Two: Part Three: x

Originally posted by progamerbyun

The rain fell just loud enough for you to hear, the skies a beautiful but somber grey and the world feeling otherwise silent. The birds weren’t chirping. The neighborhood seemed empty. It was just you. You and your empty apartment and your thoughts. The all consuming thoughts that made the silence seem so loud. His voice just kept replaying in your head, like the soundtrack to the otherwise quiet moment.

“I think she’s the one.”

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A cage of golden glass

Synopsis: There was you. An ordinary human girl, wrong place, wrong time. Then there was Loki. God of Mischief, war criminal. When Thor brings you to Asgard to ensure your safety, there is nobody else you come to hate more passionately than his evil foster brother. Then Odin finally decides on a new and much more effective kind of punishment for Loki, causing your whole world to fall apart. He would simply marry him off to a mortal, someone who is, by all means, “beneath” him. You.

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Words: 7217
Warnings: smut, forced marriage

Read it on AO3!

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Night Drive

Summary: In which you help Bucky combat a sleepless night by going on a night drive.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,366

A/N: Oh hey, it’s me. I guess I’m back.

Originally posted by krisletang

The screaming starts late that night. Or maybe it starts early that morning; it’s too dark outside your window to be sure of the time.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes is easier said than done. Your slumber had been a deep one, as the fatigue from two sleepless nights in a row had caught up to you. Once your head hit the pillow, you were convinced nothing could possibly wake you up.

Nothing except the sound of Bucky’s screams in the room down the hall from yours.

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Dress Code (m)

Originally posted by gotjhope

➾ reader x CEO!jimin

➾ word count: 6.3k words

➾ warnings: incredibly filthy smut with no plot at all | cumplay | dirty talk | tit fucking | slight demeaning names/ name calling | face fucking | oral sex | unprotected sex

➾ summary: ceo!jimin takes it upon himself to discipline you when your attire doesn’t exactly adhere to HR regulations

➾ a/n: okay look this is just my excuse to write a ceo!jimin smut… i just felt like i owed him big time after what i did to him in instant gratification :”) i speed wrote this in a day and didn’t proofread whatsoever rip…


The clattering sounds of typing, clicking and pages flipping lull you into a state of lethargy as your eyes flutter half-shut in your cubicle. Having graduated as an arts major two years ago, you’d never imagine being holed up with a mundane 9-5 office job that had almost nothing to do with your major. But bills needed to be paid and rent had to come from somewhere, so you find yourself trudging to work soulessly every morning, day in day out.

“Hey, are you almost done with those files I gave you this morning?” The voice of your co-worker Mingyu in the next cubicle jolts you into awareness immediately.

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{PART 19} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Not knowing whether to stay and fight, or run and protect you; Jungkook gets thrown into a world of fear and panic. Meanwhile, Yoongi and Serrena battle for victory in the silent game of war they play;

“How dreadful…to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 18} {Part 19} {Part 20}

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Someone raised the challenge to take the idea of the cult ending that was assembled from non-canon datamined content but figure out a way to reassemble it into something that’s both tonally in-line with the rest of the game and a satisfying cap to the story so I rose to the challenge because bouncing from springboards like this and connecting plot points is basically what I do for a living.

Also tried to find a way to include all the dads because these “bigger picture” stories are more fun like that.

Putting it under a cut for length and hella spoilers, but here’s my response to the question of “well how would YOU handle the cult end”

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Let Me Help

Spencer Reid x Reader (smut)

Requested: Yes. Anon: hey! I really love your blog and I was wondering if you could do a reid x reader where the reader has a wet dream about Spencer and she finally tells him about her dream after he asks her what’s wrong and it ends in smut?? thank you so much

Word Count: 3,589, Warnings: Swearing, NSFW, Oral Sex.

A/N: Oh my God okay so I went a little crazy on this one and it’s a full fledged long fic. I was writing this and I actually needed to take a break my palms were sweating because Reid is so fucking hot. Anyway, I hope you like it! Please let me know if you want a Part 2 ;)

- M xo

(Gif not mine, credit to owner)

Originally posted by hisirishsoufflegirl

Sprawled out on your bed, your naked form was being admired and touched by a handsome man. He glided his fingers up and down the sides of your thighs as he placed sensual kisses on your stomach. “God, you’re so beautiful.”, whispered Spencer. 

Wait what? Spencer? Hold on. Did you just have a wet dream about your nerdy co-worker?

You woke up in your bed covered in sweat as you tried to calm down your flustered state as you panted heavily trying to vaguely recollect the memories of the dream you had just had. It wasn’t a bad dream, in fact, it was amazing. You squeezed your thighs together in hopes of some sort of relief, but all you could do was think about the dream, which made your state even worse.

You sat there in silence as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. You’d been working at the BAU for 4 years now and you had never thought of Spencer that way. Sure he was tall, had gorgeous chiselled cheekbones and never failed to amaze you with his intelligent brain. Oh, God. Here you were thinking inappropriately about your co-worker at 3 in the morning when you had to be in for work at 7. There was no way you were going to act normal in front of him after this strange yet intoxicating image of you and Spencer practically having sex ingrained in your brain. All you could do was try to get back to sleep and hope that the flush would be over in the morning.

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melodrama through the eyes of a (fellow) synaesthete

hello everyone! just like lorde herself, i have a strong case of synaesthesia (I get colour visions, but also tastes and scents as well), so this is my attempt to review the masterpiece that is melodrama through my synaesthetical experiences

let’s go

green light: car air freshener, heated highway and the visions you get when you drive in heat (a la mirages), blackberry-scented cheap shower gel, a pistachio green silk scarf, old school adidas kicks, lemon juice drops on fresh summer salad, beige satin, old black cars (a la classic cadillacs and jaguars), maple syrup, the heat of cairo at around 11 am

sober: ripe honeydew, the smell of guitar wood varnish, red satin ribbons, smudged glass coffee tables, spilled lemonade on said tables, peach vodka, the feel of white plaster in old museums where security guards are very strict, cough syrup (both the colour and the flavour), artificial smell of mint, mint gum, velvet red carpeting in old and badly aired town halls, the humidity of rainforest

homemade dynamite: 4 am sunrise straight after a storm with torn dark grey, nearly black clouds being ripped, smell of gasoline, deep puddles in cracked pavement, dimmed street lights about to go out, magenta, white musk perfume from the body shop, deep indigo of the nearly sunrise of mid may, that walk home from a rowdy night out when everyone is more or less sobered up, but not sober enough to feel shy yet, still drunk enough to be honest with affection and cursing and slightly slurred speech

the louvre: bamboo blinds, bamboo shoots, bonsai trees, flowing honey, varnished birchwood, sunlit old halls in ugly grey soviet buildings, silver hellium-filled balloons, white shiny doors between a party-filled room and a closet where hook-ups and one-night stands take place, old oil paint, the sunny, lemon yellow butterflies, muddly skies of july, edelflower syrup in a glass of white wine, edelflower flower crowns, an expensive pool in a mansion-like house in hollywood hills, the eerie comfort and anxiety of the opening credits of twin peaks

liability: massive bouquets of lily of the valley, white lace curtains knitted by a grandmother, greyness of a sunday in a village on a last warm october day, a single light in an office on a late night in a massive skyscraper, dried flowers, drops of nosebleed on a crystal clean white sink, grey that turns into pastel lilac, the feeling of ripped paper

hard feelings/loveless: faint sunrise shining through the windows of a manhattan apartment in a skyscraper, all shades of orange spilling onto a hi-tec kitchen, cointreau liqueur, sunny warm nights on ocean beach, lukewarm bathtubs when the bath foam has fizzled, bonfires and burned marshmallows, just the beginning of feeling buzzed (like a glass of wine in), tender shades of yellow, rustiness of old heavy doors into a basement, scaffolding sounds, first sunniest days of spring after a heavy winter, sunset in the ocean, heavy fluffy sweaters / neon diner signs, anime eyes, porcelain dolls, peach-flavoured bubblegum, glass bowls

sober ii (melodrama): colour of crimson, heavy red velvet couches, smudged matte red lipstick, glass shards, ripped pearl necklaces and scattered pearls on sticky floor, red limelight, stilettos, tight black bodysuits, smoky-eyed tall models in revealing tight and latex dresses, marble furniture with golden decor, fistfights during a party, ripped suits and thrown ties and unbuttoned white shirts on boys with wealthy fathers

writer in the dark: light parakeet green, whitewashed starched tablecloths that crunch, old wooden tables, rusty cages for canaries, Advocat liqueur, big pearl necklaces on black dresses, big sunglasses (a la Audrey’s in Breakfast at Tiffany’s), sunny Sunday mornings on a patio with a cup of fancy tea, sunday clothes, white churches in greece, silver tears and crying in the backseat after a breakup, wilted flowers in a vase with dirty water

supercut: light green and orange, Love Is bubblegum, peaches, apricots, mint, Mojitos, fairy lights above people at a rooftop party, roadtrip one takes after a breakup with all thier belongings, flavoured water that doesn’t quench thirst, sparkling water with lemon and ice cubes, worn down picnic blankets, fancy dresses girls wear to the entrance into a nightclub, folding chairs, chilled champagne

liability (reprise): cold winter wind of february, the feeling on the tip of the tongue from scolding hot tea, big white rooms in museums, light green, light smoke of e-cigarette that smells like peppermint, the smell of sunscreen, the stillness of a swimming pool at noon in heat

perfect places: red wine, swinging chandeliers, red plastic cups, glass grand pianos, the last summer party in august, that warm feeling at the end of the party where everyone’s buzzed and affectionate and there’s a lot of kissing and hugging and swinging, big fake golden earrings, summer fruits, fancy hotels and luxurious lifts/elevators, skinny dipping, black velvet dresses that touch the floor, uncontrollable laughing in comfy sweaters

Yes, Sir // A Mitch Rapp Smut

Collab With The One And Only @stilinski-jpeg

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Violence (like seriously some crazy shit goes down), Oral (69), Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Choking, and Swearing.

Word Count: 9,859 

Song: Young God by Halsey

A/N: Hey guys! Welcome to day 2 of #MitchWeek! Yes, this smut is completely inspired by that bathtub scene from the trailer. I came up with this idea and immediately told Nia about it to which she said and I quote “if you don’t write this, I will.” And so we decided to turn it into a collab! I hope you guys love how intense this is as much as we do. We really felt no need to hold back.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Mitch snarled at Stan Hurley as the pair walked down the long hallway.

“If anyone needs a babysitter, it’s you.” Stan chuckled at his least favourite trainee’s expense.

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Stripped Bare

Title: Stripped Bare

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Summary: The reader plays strip poker with Dean.

Characters: Demon!Dean Winchester x female reader

Word Count:  2801

Warnings:  canon typical violence, nsfw, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex

Author’s Notes: Written for @deansdirtyduchess Birthday/1000 Follower celebration. My prompt was strip poker.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Originally posted by the-captain-destiel

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Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn’t)

So, I’m obsessed with the whole idea that Peter is Tony’s unofficial son and it’s only supported by Tony’s appearance in Spider-Man Homecoming, so I came up with this series, which is in the works and also posted on my AO3 account. If you like it or have any suggestions as to where I should take this, please don’t hesitate to let me know! Also, forgive any spelling errors or mistakes, I finished this at three in the morning one night and I was too lazy to go back and fix them. Enjoy!

~~~~~~

Tony swore when he was twelve years old that he would never be a father. He remembered that moment clearly, like it had just happened a day ago, not well over thirty years ago. He was in his room, his father still screaming in a drunken rage at his mother over something Tony did, his anger and disappointment following Tony down the hallway of their New York penthouse apartment. He remembered sitting on the cold tile floor of his room, head rest against the heavy wooden door that was doing nothing to muffle his father’s harsh words.

His father was angry, Tony had gotten kicked out of his third private school on the East Coast, the letter expulsion still clutched in his father’s harsh grasp. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen his father this furious before and Tony knew that the only thing that saved him from taking a glass full of scotch to the face was his mother’s presence in the room. Maria Stark might’ve been docile about a lot of things, but Howard taking his rage out on Tony physically, that would never fly in this house hold.

Tears of anger and embarrassment welled in Tony’s eyes and he wiped them away furiously, refusing to waste anymore energy on that man that he was forced to acknowledge as his father. No matter what Tony did, it was never enough to please Howard Stark. He made his first prototype of an arch reactor at the age of six, Howard wanted it by age five. Tony skipped three grades, Howard wanted him to skip four. Tony, despite his age, was offered a spot at MIT and if Howard had it his way? He would’ve been there a year ago. No matter how much Tony achieved, how many goals he surpassed, he always came up short in Howard’s eyes. Being the constant source of Howard’s disappointment and ire made Tony wonder if he would ever succeed in his father’s eyes, if his dad would ever clap him on the back and say “I’m proud of you, son.”

He wondered, some nights, when he’d lie awake in his too big bed in his too big room in his too big house, if his father had ever wanted children, had wanted Tony.

The thought crossed his mid countless of times, until it latched onto his cerebral cortex and sat there, like the worst form of cancer that had no possible cure.

And while Tony sat there, head resting tiredly against the warm wood, Howard’s voice still echoing down the long hallway, that cancer spread until it proved fatal.

He never wanted his children to feel like this.

Unwanted

Worthless

A complete and utter failure.

Tony was self-aware enough to know that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, that human nature was a pattern and patterns were destined to repeat themselves, without fail. Anger and rage and disappointment were the only form of affection Tony was used to getting to his father. His father was a cold man, always keeping Tony at a distance that no matter how hard he tried, Tony could never quite breach.

And Tony knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would always end up like his father.

~~~~~~~

Peter Parker came into his life unexpectedly and despite popular opinion, unplanned. He’d been keep tabs on the Spider-Kid since the kid popped up on his radar a few months ago, clad in that god awful homemade leotard/hoodie contraption and flying around Queens on his webs with all the grace of a child learning to walk for the first time. Tony never planned to actually meet the kid behind the mask or reaching out to the flying kid in his homemade costume, but when the Avengers disbanded and the only family Tony had ever known was decreasing in numbers, he needed back up.

Looking back, his intentions were purely selfish and it shamed him to admit, when he dropped the kid back off in his sketchy neighborhood in Queens with the new suit he’d made him, he never had any intention of keeping in contact with the kid.

To absolve himself from the guilt, he appointed Happy as his chaperone and threw himself into creating new legs for Rhodey, another way to attempting to soothe ache of guilt that had settled along with the shrapnel, in his battered heart.

He underestimated Peter, who was pushy and persistent and finally, after three months, Happy threw his phone at Tony and told him to call the kid. That night, Tony, with a glass of scotch in hand, filtered through the hundreds of voicemails Peter had left Happy—anecdotes of his daily patrols, everything from helping old ladies cross the street, stopping bike thieves to getting cats out of trees. Each story was told with excruciating detail, in that excited ramble the kid got whenever he was particularly enthused about something and warmth settled around Tony’s heart, fond amusement making his lips curl into his first genuine smile in months.

It took Tony another week to reach out to the kid, but he did and that’s how he found himself, in one of his more flashier cars, sitting outside of Peter’s school. He ignored the gawking, the stunned stares and the whispers of the students filtering out of the school, his eyes scanning the crowd before they landed on a familiar head of messy hair.

Peter was talking excitedly to the chubby, dark haired Asian kid by his side, who was nodding along to everything Peter said with a look of pure wonder on his face and Tony wondered briefly if his little friend knew that his BFF moonlighted as a super-hero in spandex at night.

Another kid appeared by Peter’s side and Tony watched as Peter visibly tensed and tried to skirt around the kid, but the kid threw a hand out and stopped Peter in his tracks.

The cocky grin that appeared on the kid’s face was all too familiar to Tony and before he could even second guess himself, he was out of his car and walking towards the three boys, ignoring the murmurs coming from the crowd.

“—when are you gonna stop lying about your internship with Tony Stark, Penis Parker? There’s no way someone like Tony Stark would ever take on a charity case like you—“

Peter looked up when he heard the murmuring crowd fall to a hush and his gaze landed on Tony. The amount of surprise in the kid’s features made Tony’s gut clench that in no way had to do with the greasy cheeseburger he ate on the way over here.

“M-Mr. Stark, what, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter stammered, flicking his gaze back to would be bully in front of him.

“Yeah, Parker, like I’m gonna fall for that—

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Tony interrupted, smirking in satisfaction when the kid that was giving Peter a hard time, froze, turning his disbelieving eyes on to Tony.

“Y-You-You’re Tony Stark.” He said faintly, his voice shaking.

Tony smirked, “Astute observation and you are?”

The kid gulped, his adams apple bobbing harshly, “F-Flash Thompson.”

“Makes sense,” Tony said with a nod of his head, looking the kid up and down, “I’d bully someone too, if my parents named me after the lamest superhero to ever grace the pages of a comic book, overcompensation and all that,” Tony said thoughtfully, “especially with your perceived fixation on the male genitalia. Tell me, did it take you a while to come up with something that juvenile or did you have someone equally as childish think it up for you? Because I would think someone with—and I’m assuming here, so correct me if my deductive reasoning skills are off—a high level of intelligence would come up with something a little bit more creative than ‘Penis Parker’.”

By the time Tony was done, the crowd around him was snickering and the kid in front of him looked like he wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole, if such things were possible.

Tony smiled, but there was nothing nice about, “Now, if I ever catch wind of you so much as looking in Peter’s direction again and trust me, kid, I’ve got my ways, I have no issue siccing my AI on all your school records and wreaking havoc on your future plans for any Ivy League schools, you reading me kid?”

Flash nodded so vigorously he resembled a bobble head, “Y-Yes, Sir.”

Tony smiled, this one much more kind than the last, “Good, I’m glad we could reach an understanding, now running along so I can talk to my intern here without your sorry excuse for cologne clouding my senses, seriously kid less is more.”

Flash tucked his proverbial tail between his legs and pushed through the crowd of people that were now openly laughing, losing interest in Tony in favor of chasing after Flash to mock him.

Tony shouldn’t feel as proud as he did, but he knew what it was like to be bullied and he’d be damned if his kid—ahem, someone like Peter had to deal with someone as childish as Flash Thompson every day and it was within his power to do something about it. Like kid didn’t already have enough to deal with as it was.

He turned back to see a dumbfounded Peter and his equally as flabbergasted friend.

“That was—” Peter began, but seemed to be at a loss for words, shaking his head in disbelief.

His friend, however, didn’t seem to have that particular problem.

“—AWESOME!” His friend said excitedly, “oh man did you see Flash’s face? Dude, this is greatest thing to ever happen to me. Tony Stark just verbally assaulted Flash, Jesus dude, how is this your life? If you ever want to trade, even if it’s just for a day, I’m totally down—“

Ned.” Peter muttered, elbowing him roughly, giving a rough jerk of his head in Tony’s direction. He flicked his apologetic gaze over to Tony, who simply rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Ned followed his gaze and flushed, “Right, sorry.”

Peter closed his eyes for a moment and Tony could see the kid physically trying to fight off his embarrassment and couldn’t help but chuckle.

Peter’s eyes snapped open at the sound and the surprise and confusion from earlier was back, “Mr. Stark, what are you doing here? At my school? Is everything okay? Is there a—“ Peter glanced around in a sad attempt at nonchalance and lowered his voice to an equally as sad attempt at a whisper, “—mission?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that was making Tony wonder if the kid had a weird twitch he’d never noticed before.

Tony glanced over at Ned quickly, going back to his original curiosity of how much the kid actually knew about his arachnid friend here, but Ned seemed to catch on to Tony’s unasked question.

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, sir, I’m Peter’s Guy In The Chair.” Ned answered helpfully, giving him a bright smile.

Tony glanced back over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, who simply muttered “dude” in an exasperated tone, shaking his head before returning his attention to Tony, “Ned knows.”

“Oh, well, in that case, no, there is no…mission,” Tony said in a mock whisper, making Peter flush, “I’m working on a new Iron Man suit and I need to pick your brain for some ideas on upgrades, figured I’d swing by and pick you up from school today.”

Peter’s eyes widened and Ned seemed torn between fainting or peeing himself from excitement.

“You get to touch the Iron Man suit?!” He squeaked, turning his wide-eyed gaze over to Peter, who only gave Ned a look, who bit his lip sheepishly, but looked like he was ready to explode from the level of his enthusiasm.

Peter ignored him, “I was supposed to help Ned finish the lego Death Star today, we were supposed to do it yesterday, but I uh, kinda got caught up on patrol.” Peter gave Tony a guilty shrug of his shoulders.

“So let me get this straight,” Tony said slowly, “you’re turning down quality time in my personal lab to build a lego Death Star with Ned over here?”

Peter’s eyes had lit up at the mentions of Tony’s lab, but with quick glance at a wide eyed Ned, who seemed to be stuck on the fact that Tony Stark said his name, his excitement dimmed. But Peter was loyal, almost to a fault, and nodded resolutely.

Tony, seemingly at a loss for words, just stood there, shellshocked at being told no, by a fifteen year old kid at that. A small part of Tony, the one that was actually looking forward to hanging out with the kid, was slightly hurt at the rejection.

Ned, who’d been watching the entire scene with wide eyes, was more observant than he looked and seemed to sense Peter’s indecision and Tony’s disappointment, because he gave his friend a bright smile, “Dude, we can finish the Death Star anytime and besides, my mom wanted me home tonight to help her with something, so I’m booked, raincheck?” He offered.

Peter glanced at Ned then at Tony and then back to Ned, “Um, sure Ned, no problem.”

Ned gave him a smile and then turning his attention back to Tony, his friendly smiled turned a bit more to the manic grin that most people wore in Tony’s presence, “It was really nice to meet you Mr. Stark.”

He offered Peter a fist bump, who returned it, before he started walking down the side walk, towards, what Tony assumed, was home.

Turning his attention back to the kid, he gave him a smile, “Good good, now we should probably be on our way if we want to avoid traffic. Now, as far as suit upgrades go, I was thinking of up-ing the suit’s repulsers a bit—hey, kid, you coming?” Tony asked from his position on the driver’s side, raising an eyebrow at Peter, who was still standing on the side walk. Tony followed his gaze and saw Ned still making his way down the sidewalk and chancing a glance back at Peter, who was still watching him with big, guilty eyes, he sighed.

The things I do for you, kid, Tony thought to himself.

“Hey, Ned,” Tony shouted, making the kid pause and turn around, looking to Peter, who was watching Tony with the beginnings of a smile, then back to Tony curiously, “would you like to join us? There’s plenty of room in the lab for three people.”

Even from a few yards away, Tony could see the kid’s eyes widen in surprise before he hustled his way back to an equally excited Peter, who shot him a grateful look.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He said quietly, giving him a bright smile.

And Tony couldn’t help but smile back, “You’re welcome, kiddo,” eyeing a panting Ned warily, “make sure he doesn’t do anything…weird, okay? I don’t mind opening my lab to him but there was something in his eyes when I was talking about the Iron Man suit that made me decidedly uncomfortable.”

Peter gave a breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, Mr. Stark, Ned’s cool.”

Ned, who had come to a slightly sweaty stop in from them, looked up at Tony with wide eyes, “Can I try on the Iron Man helmet?”

“Dude.”

~~~~~~~~~

Tony spent the majority of their time in lab just watching Peter and Ned run around like kids in a candy store—picking things up, playing with the robots—DUM-E taking a special liking to Peter, who, Tony was pleased to see, treated him like a human, thanking him when he brought them water from the stocked fridge and smiling when DUM-E beeped happily in return—and played with all the gadgets laying around.

Tony, albeit wearily, let them try on one of the Iron Man helmets from one of his earlier models and explained to them how the suit worked, both of them hanging on to his every word. He showed them the blue prints for his newest model, listening to their suggestions and even writing a few them down to look into later.

Ned, Tony found out, was rather intelligent with computers. He gave him one of his old security systems and watched with genuine interest as the kid hacked into the the files with ease and recoded the entire system in a matter of minutes.

When Tony looked it over, he let out a grunt of an approval, “Nice work, kid.”

Ned all but fainted at Tony’s praise.

The hours slipped by and F.R.I.D.A.Y. being the helpful AI that she is, had ordered pizzas without Tony even having to ask and had them sent to the kitchen, alerting them when they had arrived. Tony led them up to the kitchen, watching with thinly veiled amusement as they both took in every new surrounding with the same amount of interest they had shown in the lab.

Tony continued to observe them as they tore into the pizza like they hadn’t eaten in days and taking a quick glance at the clock, he realized with a flash of guilt, that they had been down in the lab for over four hours and the last time they had probably eaten something would’ve been well over seven or eight hours ago.

It was nice, Tony deiced, listening to their mindless chatter and what was especially nice, was seeing how at ease Peter was with his friend, looking like a true fifteen year old with his friend over to his house on a school night, like he didn’t have super powers, like he didn’t dress up in tight spandex and web his way through Queens and fight crime at night while trying to balance a normal life.

The thought nagged at Tony for the rest of dinner and as he rode silently with them in the backseat while Happy drove them all to Ned’s apartment first, who still looked like he couldn’t believe today was real, thanking Tony breathlessly for the best day of his life and telling Peter he’d see him tomorrow at school.

Peter watched his friend with a small, amused smile and when they got to Peter’s apartment building, Tony glanced over at the kid, the smile still had yet to leave his face.

“Alright kid, this is your stop,” Tony said, making a move to undo his seatbelt, but the kid’s hesitant voice made him pause.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said softly, clearing his throat, “I uh, just wanted to thank you, you know for well, everything,” the kid breathed, smiling up at him so sincerely that it made Tony’s chest ache in the best sort of way, “today was amazing and I really appreciate you inviting Ned along with us, he really looks up to you, you know? And I haven’t really been able to spend much time with him since, y’know, the whole Spider-Man thing.”

The kid paused before continuing on in a softer voice, “And about Flash, I really, really don’t know how to thank you for that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, “it’s kind of funny, in a way, I’m a sort of super-hero and I can’t even stand up to a bully—“

Tony’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the kid’s self-deprecation, “Look, kid, I’m no stranger to bullies,” he began, sighing heavily, “I had my fair share of them when I was in school and even in college. I learned that while you may no be able to physically fight someone, you can always fight them with words and sometimes, words can hurt more than your fists. All I did was give that Flash kid a taste of his own medicine and hopefully, got him off your case.”

Peter was silent for a moment, considering Tony’s words before giving him another appreciative smile, “I don’t think Flash will be messing with me anytime soon, but still, thank you,” Peter’s smile turned shy, “you’re the first adult, other than May, to stand up for me and I really appreciate it, so thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony,” Tony offered after a beat of silence, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.

Whatever he was trying to say, the kid got, because he smiled brightly and Tony, suddenly feeling awkward at the unusual sentimental moment, busied himself with unbuckling his seatbelt, ignoring the warmth in his chest.

He reached around the kid to open the door for him and Peter, rather than getting out, just like last time, he reached up and wrapped his arms around Tony, thinking he was hugging him

“This um, wasn’t a hug,” Tony began awkwardly, “I’m just getting the door for you.”

However, before the kid could pull away, Tony wrapped his arms around him and gave him a quick, but firm squeeze.

Peter gave him another smile before wishing Tony and Happy a goodnight,  getting out of the car and making his way up towards his apartment. Tony debated on his next move, mulling it over quickly and before the kid could get too far, he found himself making a snap decision and rolling down he window.

“Hey, Underoos,” Tony started, slightly unsure when the kid turned around and looked at Tony with hopeful eyes.

“Same time, same place tomorrow?” He said after a moment of silence, the kid’s answering grin melting away any self doubt before it could begin.

“Sure Mr.Stark—Tony,” Peter stuttered excitedly, “sounds great!”

Tony watched the kid go with a satisfied smiled, so caught up in his happy little pseudo-family moment that he almost didn’t hear his phone ring.

Not even bothering to glance at the caller I.D., he answered it with a smooth, “Stark.”

“Tony?! What the hell we’re you thinking going to a school and threatening a minor, A MINOR—“

Shit.

~~~~~

Should I continue? Please let me know :)

bad | 01

 He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Originally posted by thesoshisone

MEMBER: jeon jungkook x reader

GENRE: romance, smutish, fluff

WORDS: 2 506

WARNINGS: badboy!jungkook, cussing, mature

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07coming soon

A/N: if people like this, I’ll make another part. it won’t be a long series, though. this will probably be cliché af. but please, pretty pretty pretty please tell me what you think. THANKS.

Keep reading

Dark Lovers

An AU Series

Character Pairing: Demon!Bucky x DemonKing!Steve x Female Reader

Word Count: 2912

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Smut. M/M/F threesome, oral (male and female receiving) fingering, sexual penetration, female ejaculation (squirting), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) and swearing. 

Request: can you write one where bucky and steve are demons and they fuck angel reader and she squirts and bucky goes “ well damn stevie look at this”  @apolla62200

A/N: Don’t judge me too harshly! This is my take on angels and demons! 



“I thought you’ve been told not to come to our neck of the woods angel face.”

You squared your shoulders and walked straight past Bucky. You heard his heavy boots turn to follow you.

“Defiance,” he said as he sucked in through his teeth. “I like it. I thought angels were supposed to be sweet and innocent. A bit on the submissive side.”

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you smirked, “Goes to show how dumb you demons are.”

Bucky lunged forward and grabbed your forearm roughly. He backed you against the nearest wall and pushed his big body against yours, pinning you in place. “Tread carefully angel, I’ll make it to where not even your precious God can save you.”

You quirked a brow at him as you chuckled, “Your first mistake is thinking that I need to be saved,” you pushed against his chest, backing him up a step. “Besides, your King summoned me here.”

Keep reading

Flirt With Me (Peter Parker X Reader)

Requested: No

Word Count: 1 475

A/N: Okay, but doesn’t love Peter? This is my first Marvel fanfic and I am sure that there is more to come! Thanks so much for waiting and, as always, I hope you enjoy!

***** 

You felt a rush of relief as the bell rang, fleeing from the classroom in a hurry, hoping to lose Flash Thompson, who was hot on your heels, in the crowd. 

You run through the halls of the school, desperately trying to find your best friend Peter Parker. You spot the colour of his favourite sweatshirt out of the corner of your eye and skid to a halt in front of the glass library doors. You peered inside and sure enough, Peter was sitting alone at one of the desks, studying for an upcoming test. 

You look back and forth feeling frantic, your hair whipping wildly as you checked to see if Flash was near. He was nowhere in sight. You were safe, for the time being. 

You hurriedly push open the heavy doors of the library, the hinges squeaking rather loudly. The librarian looked up from her desk and glared at you. You smiled apologetically before hurrying over to Peter and slipping into the seat next to him. 

“Oh, hi (Y/N)-” 

“Peter.” you gasp, trying to catch your breath from all the running. He tilts his head as he looks at you, confused. 

“Are you alright? Why are you panting? Oh no, do we have to run a mile today in PE? Dang it.” 

“No no, it’s not that. It’s Thompson,” you answer, shaking your head. Peter’s eyes flare at the mention of the name but the action remains unnoticed by you.

 “What did the idiot do this time?” he asks, sighing and balling his hands into tight fists. 

“He keeps asking me out even though I’ve told him that I wasn’t interested countless times,” you say in frustration, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But he won’t leave me alone. He sat next to me in History for the past hour and he just wouldn’t stop hitting on me. I wish I could just take his head and-” 

You made a violent gesture in mid air and Peter smiled at your behaviour.

“Ugh, aren’t boys just revolting.” he remarks, making you smile. 

“Please, tell me about it.” You shake your head in disgust. “And I’m pretty sure he’s following me now. He’ll probably find me soon…oh no.” 

Your voice trails off and both you and Peter spot Flash approaching the library, swaggering through that halls as if he owned the place. Peter glared at him as he got closer. In his opinion, that kid was way worse than any bank robber he had ever webbed up. 

You grabbed his shoulder and he looked down at your hand, startled by your sudden action. 

“Arg, he’s coming! I need to hide!” you yelp, looking around wildly for a place to hide but to no avail. You were out in plain sight. You flinched as you heard the doors of the library open and looked at Peter for help. And then, an incredibly stupid idea pops into your head. 

“Flirt with me.” you whisper, instantly regretting everything. 

Saying that he looked shocked would have been the understatement of the century. 

“Er - what?” he exclaimed, his face turning a bright shade of pink as Flash entered rather obnoxiously loudly into the library. He was apologizing to the cranky librarian and you quickly explained your oh so stupid plan to Peter. 

“If he sees I’m taken, he won’t ever try to make a move again.” you explain quickly, feeling yourself heat up and Peter looks at you skeptically, his blush fading. 

“(Y/N), are you sure about this? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

Flash starts to walk towards your table and your grip on Peter’s arm tightens. 

“Please.” 

He nods slightly and clears his throat, scooting himself closer to you. 

“So, uh, do you come here often?” he asks in a low voice and you stare at him before bursting out into laughter. 

“Is that honestly the best thing you’ve got?” you ask through giggles. “Gee, you’re just as awkward as I am.” 

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Hey, at least I’ve got you laughing now. It’s makes everything more convincing.” 

But he was right. Flash was eyeing the two of you, looking agitated and envious. 

“And no, this is my best line… You are absolutely, astoundingly beautiful and that’s the least interesting thing about you.” he whispers, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your head up, forcing you to look him in the eyes. His face is mere centimeters from yours and you could feel his hot breath fanning across your face. 

Your mind goes totally blank as you stare into his eyes, trying to clear your throat to say something witty back at him but you couldn’t think. Instead, to your horror, you feel your face flush as you continued to get lost in his eyes. 

“Perfect! I’ve got you blushing now too!” Peter observes, looking quite satisfied with himself. This simply deepened your blush and he chuckled. It was definitely odd, seeing this confident side of Peter, but you had to say that you were enjoying it, maybe even a little too much. 

“You’re a great actress, (Y/N).” he whispers with a grin and you nod unconsciously. 

“Er, yeah. Acting…” 

“How’s our victim?” he whispers into your ear, drawing you even closer to him, if possible. 

“Uh, h-he’s looking absolutely furious.” you stutter, finally managing to get a full sentence out. You mentally scold yourself, you weren’t going to let him know that he was making you melt and feel absolutely flustered. “He should be gone soon.” 

“Good, let’s keep at it then.” he murmurs, taking your hand gently and looking at you through his lashes. Your heart beat quickened as Peter placed his lips on your knuckles, kissing them lightly. 

“If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I’d be holding a galaxy.” he said lazily against the back of your hand and tried your best to refrain yourself from shaking at his touch. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the thought of what his soft lips would feel like against your own… 

“That’s so cliché.” you say feeling awfully breathless and he smiles once again before lifting his head back up to meet your eyes. 

“It is indeed. But it’s also true.” he replied, without breaking his character. You knew that if you had been standing, your legs would’ve failed you. “I was always told that nobody was perfect, but you’re clearly the exception. However, there is one thing I want to change about you.” 

“W-what?” you question, stuttering again. 

“Your last name.”

You desperately tried to think of a clever comeback but you couldn’t, it was as if your brain had been turned to mush. Once again you were at a loss of words, something you prided yourself of not happening. Your best friend gave you a reassuring smile before gesturing towards where Flash was standing, asking you to check if he was still there. The other boy was nowhere in sight. Thank the heavens, he was gone. But you also felt a pang of disappointment when you realized that Peter’s charade would soon come to an end… 

“He’s gone. Flash is gone.” you whisper incoherently, and Peter’s face lights up with a huge grin. 

“Yes! You’re plan worked (Y/N)!” Peter cheered happily, dropping the low, seductive voice he had used merely seconds ago.

“Are you alright?” he inquired when you don’t cheer with him. 

“Y-yeah. I’m great.”

To your dismay, he scooted away from you and began to pack up his things before standing up. 

“I feel like I allured you with my awkwardness rather than flirting with you.” Peter said, chuckling as he swung his backpack on effortlessly. “On his behalf, Flash was a complete idiot to believe any of that, I do hope I was convincing enough.” 

He frowns slightly and you nod your head furiously. 

“Uh, yeah! You were great! Could’ve fooled me!” you squeaked, trying yourself to sound as convincing as possible. Peter didn’t seem to notice how significantly higher your voice had become. 

“He shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” he says with a grin. 

“Yeah, hopefully. Thank you, Peter.” 

“No problem! And if he does bug you again, just let me know. I’ll be happy to help again. We make a pretty good team of actors, if I do say myself.” 

“Mhmm. Thanks again.” 

“Anything for you (Y/N). Well, I better get going. The ‘Stark internship’, y'know?” he says with a wink before running off to become his alter web shooting ego. 

You remained in the library, still glued to your seat. Your heart was still racing at a feverish pace. You place your hand on your cheek and to your surprise, find yourself still blushing, your cheek burning like fire. 

Was Peter Parker just that good at flirting or had you fallen for your best friend?

*****

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! Also, if you have a request, feel free leave something in my inbox!

Locked Away

By reddit user Pippinacious

Six months. That’s how long almost half of the new hire last when they become social workers. Some will tell you it’s the pay, others will tell you it’s the stress, still others will complain about poor training or case overload or the broken system. But that’s all bullshit. The reason they quit is always the same; the kids.

Keep reading

peaches: tom holland fluff

“hi peaches,” you laughed, approaching the hospital bed from its right side. your boyfriends eyes fluttered open drowsily and a soft smile set on his lips. “ready to go home?” you asked, pressing the back of your hand to his face, feeling the warmth under his cheeks.

“what time is it?” he asked, his mouth is full of cotton pads so his words are muffled.

“little after four, bub.” you tell him, brushing some hair off his forehead. he makes some incoherent replies and you look to his younger brother behind you to see if he can understand what’s happening. harry shrugs and you both laugh a little at tom’s delirioum.

a nurse pops in, giving you instructions on his medication and how to clean the wounds. she gives you a list of the soft foods that are ideal for your boyfriend to eat. she gives tom a pat on the shoulder with a sympathetic smile before leaving.

“hey! excuse me! wait!” he calls after her but it’s too late and she’s disappeared behind a heavy door. “ah man. i didn’t get to tell her about the transformers.”

“what transformers?” harry asks with an eyebrow quirked.

“in the other room she was talking like a transformer!” he reasons and you shake your head.

“alight, lets go. c'mon, peaches.” you say again, pulling his arm so he sits up. he stares at you for a minute before nodding and letting you help him into some shoes. he slides off the bed, going straight for you. his taunt body wraps around yours but his weight is unusually balanced and it sends you stumbling a little.

harry goes to take one of your boyfriend’s arms but tom waves him off before reattaching himself to you. walking is awkward at first but eventually you get it to work and head towards the car.

“excuse me, missy.” he says, tapping on your collarbone. you’re almost there and harry’s a little ahead of the two of you. “you’re using our secret nicknames.” he pouts and you avoid the urge to peck his swollen cheek.

“i’m sorry, baby. but i just saw you laying there helpless. i couldn’t not call you it.” you say, reaching across his face to anchor your hand on his ear and press a few kisses to his neck. “plus harry won’t say anything.”

“are you kidding me?? he’s already got at least four jokes about ‘peaches’.” he frowns.

“well do you not want me to call you that anymore?”

“no! no! i like it too much.” he mumbles and you two finally reach the car. you help him into the backseat and buckle his seatbelt. “just have to keep up my cool guy act when i’m around the lads.”

you couldn’t help but laugh and placed a firm kiss to his forehead. you make sure he’s correctly situated before pulling away. but toms hand catches your elbow.

“please don’t stop calling me that.” he frowns and you can tell he thinks that he’s upset you.

“alright, love. you’ll be my peaches forever.” you grin, kissing his forehead a couple times. he smiles contently, his head still in a dreamy state.

harry is a giggling mess as he climbs into the drivers seat as you get in the passenger’s.

“what are you laughing at, harry beary?!” tom hollers from the back and harry instantly turns red at the childhood nickname. tom laughs longer than he should have before settling himself down.

the car ride is mostly peaceful except for tom’s soft singing of “sweet home alabama” that harry can’t help but post on instagram with the caption “peaches is drunk”.

Call It Suicide

A/N: Well, it’s been a full month since my last fic that I posted and I felt like it was time for a new one. Another Harry Styles fic because he’s such a legend and I love him so deal with it. This took me a good few days to finally finish, hence why it’s legit the longest thing I’ve ever written, because I wanted to get this really good because I literally write my fics in one night normally so enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it x.

Based on: ‘Suicide’ by James Arthur

Dedicated to: @twerkit-hxrry, and TheHSquad: @17-blackaf, @harryxmac, @snlhaz, @spectralstyles, @wishfulharrie, @stylishmuser, @hes-writings94, @the2k17harry, @roseonhissleeve, @hs-1dfan, @soloharrles, @mizpahes, @hcrrystyles, @hes-a-rainbow, @lovingstyles87, @namelesspops, @gemmadorrego, @ever-since-kiwi, @harry-writings, @harrywavycurly, @harryslittlekiwis, @hotmessharry

Warning(s): Cheater!Harry, sad themes, swearing, a section of smut with very minimal Daddy kink

Word count: 8,005

Pairing(s): Harry Styles x Reader / Harry Styles x OC (Original Character)



It ain’t the gun,
It’s the man behind the trigger.
Gets blood on his fingers and runs.
It ain’t the lie,
It’s the way that the truth is denied.


Four years.

A relationship that had withstood all trying odds thrown at it, time and time again. A relationship that, from the outside, never once seemed anything short of miraculous. Four years of that relationship had been a blessing and to her, nothing and no one could ever give her the satisfaction nor sensation of pure love and dedication, she feared she may never find something quite like it again.

It’s funny how certain situations arise, that are unexpected in the worst way possible, which make the mere thought of carrying on with the toxicity of a failed relationship unbearable.

It had taken a whole three months for her to coax a confession out of her tattooed lover which, during that time, almost made her physically ill to think about him, not only being sexually (but possibly also romantically) inclined with another woman, but lying so blatantly to her face about the multiple occasions he had, ‘ran out to get some deodorant’, during the dead of night, only to come back to their shared home in the morning with a different type of exuberant smell catching in the air from his body and clothing.

When confronted about this, however, the long-legged man stood in front of her, but yet, no eye-contact was maintained, and shook his head, pushing past the fragile woman he claimed to love for an extended period of time before slamming the heavy, mahogany bedroom door, muttering incoherent sentences on his way that normally consisted of, “Gettin’ on my fuckin’ last nerve”, and, “I ‘ave half the mind t’ leave you right fuckin’ now”.

Of course, it was when the luminous moonlight danced across the wooden floorboards of the bedroom, illuminating the whitewashed walls as if it was their own private, personal stage where they could showcase their undying love for one another, or so she once thought.

It was when the early hour of 3am came creeping around the corner with only the sounds of the wind whistling and the leaves whispering to keep her company as she laid in an empty, king-sized, luxurious bed that was meant to be a symbol of their companionship.

It was when she felt the all-too-familiar feeling of abandonment and loneliness twist inside her gut as fresh, hot tears sprung to her eyes and trickled down to her ears whilst unmoving and staring at the intricate detail of the high ceiling. She had been doing this for so many nights she was near confident that she could recite how many swirls and dots collected in the design from her counting.

Of course, it was then that she understood that she was no longer the apple of his eye. That he had escaped from her hold and found refuge in someone else’s arms. Someone else’s kiss. Someone else’s touch.

He would never admit this though, no, he would much rather sneak back into his own home where his significant other would lay, pretending to be asleep through her dry, tear-stained cheeks, rolled over to her side of the bed with him removing his clothes to slide skilfully underneath the untouched covers on his end, like he had been used to trying to not disturb her, before pressing a chaste kiss to her neck and whisper those three words that held no real regard.

He didn’t mean it.

Not since he started smelling like a perfume she could not recognise.

Every morning, a smell of fresh coffee and breakfast foods invaded his privacy that would jolt him awake, noticing his lady of four years had already made her side of the bed and left him a note in her cursive handwriting, that he used to adore, as she did routinely since they moved in together.

And every morning he would stalk downstairs to find her cooking for the both of them out of the kindness of her broken heart despite knowing about his infidelity and unfaithfulness before he wrapped his strong, manly arms around her trembling waist as sobs racked through her entire being.

Although, these said tears were soothed almost instantly as she felt the dry lips of the man she loved along her jawline and neck, peppering gentle kisses to her skin. She knew she shouldn’t be so easily swayed when he hadn’t even muttered a single word to her but she couldn’t control her feelings; feelings of anger and despair quickly dissolving into ones of adoration and desperation towards the figure looming over her.

A shaky hand was raised to caress his prickly, stubbly cheek as she closed her eyes and enjoyed one of the rare moments of intimacy the couple shared nowadays, willing herself not to shed any more saltwater from the seas swirling in her eyes.

A waft of the faint smell of cinnamon and honey contrasted with her regular scent of vanilla and fruits that brung her out of her Harry-induced daze, making her pull away from the man she could no longer trust.

“Don’t walk away from me. Please. No’ today.” He pleaded, she almost could have believed he was being genuine if it weren’t for the black lace thong she’d discovered discreetly hidden inside his trouser pocket whilst doing the laundry last Sunday. He knew this, yet he still didn’t bother to hide the piece of evidence elsewhere. It was almost as if he had wanted her to feel her heart drop to her stomach.

“Harry, by my walking away, it gives you the leverage you need t’ turn in the opposite direction and in'a her bed.” She spoke in rebuttal under her breath; hoping her words wouldn’t travel far enough and stop short before they could reach his ears; in a way, recreating how whenever she gave him her all, it never seemed to find its destination within him and instead go off-track.

Perhaps that was the reason why her love wasn’t reciprocated.

“Wha’ did you jus’ say t’ me?” The sound of heavy footsteps coming back round the large, marble countertop placed in the middle of the spacious kitchen to her after grabbing a snack from the cabinet, not only made her anxious but also incredibly uncomfortable as she never wanted to carry such negative conversations with the center of her affection, knowing that he would deny all the objectives she would present to him, similar to how he had before.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, baby.” She forced a fake smile onto her face, an expression she had grown accustomed to whenever she looked too deep into his pools of jade he called, ‘eyes’, digging out information she never thought she would have to read. She turned her body around to crash against his chiselled chest, trapping her between the oven and his own furnace, his body giving out warmth she used to find comfort in. “I didn’t say anything important, I promise, now gimme a kiss.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer he was provided with, he leant in to press his lips hard against hers and rested his palms on her hips.

Undoubtedly, it was one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do. To kiss him as if her heart wasn’t crumbling like the walls around her; suffocating her, was too much to bare as she finally pushed him away and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

“How dare you stand here and kiss me with tainted lips you’ve put on another girl. How dare you stand here and pretend you’re committed t’ us. And how dare you stand here and make me a fool for loving you when you go out and make love t’ that woman you found at a dingy, dark nightclub one lonely winter’s night.” The streams of emotions flowed down her red, puffy cheeks as she expressed her discontent and disappointment from within.

It had been a long time coming and she knew she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Not when he made no effort to admit to his wrongdoings, but instead gave her false hope towards a relationship that was barely alive.

His arms tried to reach out towards his beautiful explosion but she couldn’t stand to look at him for longer than she had already endured and backed away from his softening stare.

He couldn’t continue his façade, not anymore.

“No, sweetheart, please…” He began to somehow explain months of late nights and cold shoulders, but she had heard and lived through everything she needed to in order to make her final decision as she knuckled away her falling tears and practically sprinted to the bedroom to collect her belongings. “It jus’ happened! It was out of my control, baby, you have t’ believe me!”

She had to leave.

No more could she sit there and act as if they were the couple they used to be in the beginning. No more could she sit there and act as if he was the man she fell in love with.

The door clicked shut just as she zipped up her suitcase, signalling he’d now entered the room that was once filled with the purity of their love. The moment he slept next to her curled up body in the middle of the Stygian night after he spent his evening in a stranger’s bed, the barrier was broken and was replaced by one of deception and distrust.

His feet padded furiously against the pristine, fluffed rug situated at the center of the space before slamming his hand on top of the lid of the luggage in an attempt to keep the woman he genuinely loved deep down from leaving him.

“Harry. Get your hand off.” She threatened with a calm, gentle voice which she never used unless she was livid behind her cool, collected nature.

“Listen t’ me. I didn’t mean for this t’ happen, I didn’t mean t’ lie t’ y-…” He, again, was cut off by her forcefully lugging her property out from under his grasp and onto the floor with a loud ‘bang’.

“It wasn’t the lie! It was never the lie! I’ve known for months, Harry. ’S the way you denied the truth every single time I asked you about it! And if you’re implying that that’s the worst of it, I don’t even wanna think about the things you’ve done t’ her and vice versa.” She stayed glaring straight into his watery irises for a few seconds before spinning on her heel and walking out, deserting a broken man with his broken heart gazing at the now wide-open entrance with traces of her vanilla scent lingering but her nowhere to be found.


You’ve been killing softly and finally,
That is too much. (Oh)
And I’m all out of whiskey,
To soak up the damage you’ve done. (Oh)


         You would think drowning her sorrows in her tears and heartbreak would’ve been enough to express her emotions but no. She had managed to find herself amongst sweaty, filthy bodies in a large bar from which she had drunk her fifth glass of strong alcohol, she could barely see straight.

With the toxic fluids coursing through her veins, the pumping bass of the latest chart-topper beating her heart for her, and conversations of the blurred people around her resounding in her psyche, she had had enough.

Hard to believe, but it was a rare occurrence that she would even bother to dress herself up and emerge from her temporary abode, with her estranged high school friend she had recently been in contact with, to appear at the local bar she used to go to with Harry whenever they wanted to get away.

It used to be a sort of sanctuary for the two of them. It used to be a chance to just talk about their day and their feelings to each other without anyone else prying into their business. But now it was, and would forever be, “the place where he met her”.

“The place where he inadvertently broke the bond between lovers which he vowed to never do”.

Yet still, there she was.

Sitting alone on a high stool, gripping the side of her glass so tightly that the beads of condensation evaporated under the red heat of her fingers and inner turmoil.

She had just been staring at the wine glasses hanging down from the ceiling, like bats in a cave, whilst downing her beverage in record speed which allowed her to move swiftly onto her next drink. Even the bartender had started to get conscious of her intake and that was enough for him to then refuse to supply another source of liquor.

Her newly rekindled friendship with her high school classmate had been put to the test that evening and unfortunately, by her having no one she knew around in her presence, let her know that she need not care for the whereabouts of her friend as they didn’t care for hers after the second round of alcohol.

The sudden deprivation of a stinging solution making its way down her throat since she had been scolded like a child for the excessiveness of her drinking, made her mind wander into the fields of betrayal that replaced the meadows of happiness she used to frolic in with the man she used to think she would one day marry.

As soon as her gaze fixated on the empty glass in front of her, the saline tears poured over the barrier of her waterline and left her silently sobbing through her harrowing heartbreak.

Dying from a broken heart was something she had only read about in the news and never once believed it to ring true but as she sat there, in Harry and her bar, she could practically feel her chest contracting and splitting into two halves. Although, she didn’t really understand how considering he still had her heart in the palm of his hands and desperate for his love.

The mere sight of a grown woman openly, and drunkenly, weeping must’ve been hard for surrounding strangers to handle since by the time she had ceased her muffled cries to soft sniffles and looked up with bloodshot, sore eyes - most of the partygoers she had mixed in with had departed and left only her and a few stragglers behind with a busied bartender wiping down spilt beverages with a cloth.

The palms of her hands were raised to her reddened face and rubbed over her features to try and soothe her outburst of feelings as a heavy sigh was blown out from her pale lips in response to the heavyweight she felt in her chest.

Heels clicked on the floor of the building as she dug into her purse to find flimsy pieces of paper that represented a form of payment she could offer the man behind the counter for the alcohol she had consumed.

“On the ‘ouse.” A clear, but deep voice sounded from in front of her as her glass was collected, “Yeh look like yeh had a bad one so don’t worry 'bout it.”

Her hard and focused stare switched from her trying to find her money in her purse to kind, pitiful, sapphire eyes as she faced the generous bartender.

“Noo. No, I can’t jus’ no’ payy yew. ’Ve 'ad like nine'een drinkss-..” Her slurred speech in between her not-so-subtle sniffs and hiccups made the stranger chuckle and she watched how his shoulders moved, fascinated by the way they were connected to his body that she felt the need to touch hers to confirm her suspicions that yes, she had shoulders too.

“Don’t mention it, love, I’ll call you a taxi.” He informed the unsteady woman the other side of the counter before picking up his phone and dialling a number he knew off by heart from the amount of times he had to ring because of previous passed out customers.

Love.

A completely innocent and everyday nickname she had been called before by many people, but this particular time made her legs shake and her lip quiver as she fought to hold back more streams of sadness.

Harry used to call her, “love”.

Harry used to show her love.

And Harry used to give her love.

But that was all gone.

All of it wasted and bestowed onto the other woman in her relationship.

She supposed it was a good thing that he had decided to take that route. She supposed it was a good thing that he made it clear she wasn’t enough. That she wasn’t what he wanted. That way she could confidently move on and find another to treat her right.

But her heart wouldn’t allow it.

Her heart remained in the familiar hands of her puppeteer and continued to make his own lovesick puppet out of her. Why? She may never understand. She only knew that he had a fatal hold on her; squeezing ever so softly but growing tighter with each and every day that passed by, that she feared she might have wound up helpless and perishing in his addicting arms.

He had been killing her softly, albeit unknowingly, but she had finally decided it was too much and escaped his grasp physically.

His emotional duress on her, however, was a different story altogether which she thoroughly believed she would never be able to evade.



If there is one thing that I’m guilty of,
It’s loving and giving when you take too much.

//•//
If there’s anything I’m guilty of,
It’s loving you too much.


         “Harry, stop!” The exclamation was followed by a giggle as she extended her hands out to cover the lens of the new, vintage camera she had purchased especially for him on their third year anniversary as a strong, steady couple.

“You’re jus’ the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, darlin’, I 'ave t’ take photos t’ capture your beauty.” He exaggerated and winked when he switched his eyes to stare at her smiling face rather than through the viewfinder.

“Ew, you’re such a dork.” A pillow was lugged at his head which, as a result, made his curls fly out in every direction possible, him then looking like a human version of Simba. “You look the most attractive you’ve ever looked right now, baby.” A snort came from her button nose as she reached for the device in his hands, turning it on him and clicking the shutter multiple times at different angles.

“And you just sounded the most attractive you’ve ever sounded.” He spoke in rebuttal before shaking his hair out of his face and tamed it slightly.

A playful pout was brought upon her lips as a sign of her disappointment that her masterpiece was ruined but she continued to shoot amateur pictures of the stunning man with legs either side of her hips since she would never tire of looking at his perfectly structured face and features that were God’s gift.

“Oi, ’m s'posed t’ be taking pictures of you, my love.” His hands found their way to his hips and she figured that, in that moment, he had never looked more adorable so the shutter sounded once more to signal that she’d documented the sight on the roll of film in the camera. “’M gonna need yeh t’ stop before I get rowdy.”

“Rowdy?” A loud guffaw sounded as she lowered the camera down to her lap and just merely glanced up at the mess of curls on top of her in disbelief and fond. “I’d like t’ see you try t’ get 'rowdy’, honey, you’re the most calm and collected person I know.”

As soon as she placed the photographic equipment to one side, her arms were pinned above her head by a strong force coming from her short-haired lover and before she knew it, she could feel his fringe tickling her forehead since he leant forwards and hovered over her.

“I can be rowdy when I wan’ to, yeh know that more than anybody, pet.” He lowered his voice down at least one octave as he spoke, a glint of mischief in his sparkling eyes.

“Mm…” She pretended to think as a borderline seductive hum sounded from her throat. “I have no idea wha’ you’re talkin’ about, H.” A shake of her head only further exaggerated her point as she tried to prove her unknowingness and innocence.

A low, breathy chuckle resounded from deep in his chest, seemingly-always-minty breath fanning over her face gently, before he pressed a loving peck to her plump lips.

It was intimate moments like these where she felt she had never been more content, nor could she probably ever be more content without him.

It was intimate moments like these where she felt almost certain that there would never be another man more catered to her soul as he was and she intended on keeping him forever.

“‘M gonna love you ‘til the day I die.” The soft whisper coming from his lips transferred onto hers and she could feel tingles rush throughout her body. “Ev’ry day I spend with you jus’ gets better and better, I don’t know wha’ you’re doin’ t’ me.”

A caressing touch was brought to his cheeks as she pulled his face up to stare into his emerald eyes. She never got tired of looking into the windows of his soul - she thought as if they held information about himself that was only revealed if someone was to gaze intently into them.

“And ev’ry day I spend with you, makes me wan’ t’ never live another day without yeh, you’re my world.” A grin started to grow on his features but she carried on before he had the chance to reply, fearing that if she didn’t tell him what she had wanted to for so long, she might never get the opportunity, nor courage, to again. “You, Harry Edward Styles, are the reason tha’ ev’ry morning when I lie in bed next t’ you, I wan’ t’ scream at how much I adore watching you yawn and stretch when yeh make that little noise to shake the tiredness off. You are the reason tha’ ev’ry night when we take a shower together, I wan’ t’ kiss yeh until our lungs give out because I don’t ever wan’ t’ stop. You are the reason tha’ ev’ry time when I see yeh performing, I wan’ t’ jus’ run up on stage with you and show ev’rybody there that you’re mine and how proud I am of you. Words will never be able to describe how much I’m smitten with you, Harry, you’re the most amazing guy ‘ve ever met and I’ll be damned ‘f I see another chick on your arm.” She had to pause momentarily as she felt a familiar touch wiping away a stray tear that had trickled down her cheek in the heat of her emotions before nervously laughing and continuing to finish her mini-speech. “I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much, I don’t think you’ll understand.”

The only response that was mustered from the tanned man was a shake of the head in disbelief at the meaningful moment that she had just shared with him, he felt a slight twinge in his stomach he couldn’t identify before placing his elbows either side of her head, careful not to rest on her sprawled out hair, and, once more, pressing his raspberry lips against hers in a passionate seal of affection.

He shifted his weight onto his forearms in order to place himself in between her bent legs without breaking their kiss and let out a quiet groan of satisfaction against her mouth. Her hands reached up to tangle in his cut curls, tugging on them lightly just as a teaser. He ended up cupping her behind as he pulled away from her soft lips to flip their bodies over to allow for him to be the one on his back and situated his woman on top of his hips, squeezing hers temporarily as an indication to keep kissing him.

And when has she ever refused him?

A small smile appeared on her face before dropping her top half down onto his chest and reconnecting their pairs of lips. Hands pressed to his firm chest as legs straddled his frame before trailing her fingers gently down to the hem of his shirt.

“Take it off, baby.” A breathless plea was heard from the man underneath her which gave her the boost of confidence she felt she needed which encouraged her to remove the first item of clothing from his toned body and she couldn’t help but run her hands up and down his beautiful torso. “Now le’ me see you.”

She raised her own top over her head herself and threw it somewhere unknown, just as she did his t-shirt, and revelled in his reaction to her reveal, noting the way he trailed his eyes up her exposed chest and bit his lip. “Look a’ you. My gorgeous girl.”

She felt the rose colour blush onto her cheeks, she thought she would’ve been better off as a traffic light, before she looked down to try and hide the obvious effect he had on her but was stopped by his forefinger lifting up her chin and guiding the other hand to the clasp of her lace bra, unclipping it expertly with a single movement, and looking at her intense eyes. “I never wan’ you t’ feel like you have to hide around me.” The straps fell down her shoulders as soon as she relaxed her arms to remove the piece of lingerie, giving her significant other a firsthand view of her bare chest, whilst he fondled her breasts generously and massaged them. “You’re beautiful and you’re mine, I wan’ yeh t’ believe it.”

Her head tilted backwards at the sensation of him having her cupped in his hands and lovingly playing with her as she felt a tweak on her left nipple and a wet tongue flick on her right. A short intake of air gasped from her throat in surprise at the sudden attention but she wasn’t complaining.

To show her gratitude, she found that her hips started to grind down on him - both their clothed crotches rubbing against one another, making them both let out a soft sound of appreciation.

“Wanna taste you…” She chirped after she had plucked up the courage to tell him while his mouth was still on her, alternating between each nipple.

“’M not stopping yeh, baby.” He spoke in reply as he detached himself from her boobs, giving them playful, but gentle, little smacks, and watched them jiggle slightly to his amusement.

By him taking it upon himself to lay back down, she took it as a sign to hop off him momentarily and hook her thumbs inside the matching lace material of her panties (she hadn’t bothered to put on bottoms - she liked wearing his shirts) before swaying her hips side-to-side. She liked to give him his own private show every once in awhile to watch him grow harder within the constraints of his jeans as he watched her.

Some could say she had a slight kink for exhibiting herself for him and she felt proud that he liked what he saw every time, enough to show off that cheeky smirk of his that she loved so much and bite his lip.

She successfully managed to drop the skimpy thong to the floor and stepped out of it, rendering her completely naked, whilst she crawled back onto the bed and in between his spread legs.

Her hand flew straight the the button of his skin-tight, charcoal jeans and pulling down the zip slowly, flicking her eyes up to see his face that construed his impatience. A light titter came from her lips as she begun to pull the waistband of the item of clothing down his legs and off his body teasingly, planting pecks down his thighs and legs in the process but intentionally avoiding where he needed her most. “God, sweetheart, please.” He started to beg, he couldn’t wait anymore. He felt painfully hard already and she wasn’t doing anything to relieve it - just make it worse.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, honey, I didn’t realise you wanted me so bad.” She feigned innocence with a pout of her bottom lip before she grinned mischievously and palmed him through his boxers.

The sudden attention to his most sensitive area made him rut his hips forward onto her hand with a half-arsed apology mumbled from him before a low groan erupted, interrupted by her reaching up and connecting her lips to his in a kiss as she continued to work him through the thin material.

As she felt a wet patch forming due to the pre-cum leaking from his tip, she concluded that there had been enough teasing so she pulled herself away from his luscious lips as his boxers followed suit with his jeans and were tossed aimlessly somewhere in the room.

Standing to attention, the red, aching head of his dick looked too enticing for her to ignore as she started to give him kisses and kitten licks. A small growl of approval from him gave her the confirmation she needed to then flatten her tongue against the underside of him and lick a stripe along him until she reached the tip, swirling her tongue around it like a lollipop.

A shiver was sent through his body as he looked down at his lover and gripped her hair in his fist. He watched her lips wrap around his, he must admit, larger-than-average size and take as much as she could fit in her mouth before she began to suck.

A strangled cry came from him as she unexpectedly opened up her throat and attempted to take all of him. As soon as her nose touched his trimmed hairs, he let out a yelp of pleasure since he felt himself at the back of her throat before she gagged, making the muscles clench around him which made it feel even more pleasurable.

“Shit, you take my cock so good.” That sentence alone was enough to make her feel on top of the world as she pulled off to catch her breath for a second, a string of spit still connecting her to him as he reached down to swipe it up with his fingers and proceeded to press them to her mouth, making her open up and taste him.

“You taste amazing.” She praised him back, knowing that it’ll give him the confidence boost he needed to really fuck her into the mattress soon.

After her regular breathing was regained, she, once again, dived back onto his pulsing manhood and begun to hollow out her cheeks around him whilst working her tongue around his girth but making sure no teeth were present as she bobbed.

Constant affirmations of pleasure tumbling from his bitten lips only made her move faster before she raised one hand to what she couldn’t fit in and expertly moved it in sync with her mouth.

“Fuck, if yeh keep goin’ like tha’, baby, ‘m gonna cum.” The warning was enough to convince her to pull off of him with a ‘pop’ and sit back onto her knees, looking down at him with a virtuous look on her face but with spit dripping down her chin. “You look sinful, yeh fuckin’ tease.”

She had to bite her lip to hide a subtle smirk and she kissed up his torso before sitting back on his hips, making sure to be just in front of his length so he could rest on her arse as she bent down to give him a passionate, open-mouthed kiss.

His large hands roamed her back as he reciprocated the kiss by pushing his tongue in, meeting hers. An enticing hum was let out as she circled her hips gently, rubbing up against his already throbbing cock. He pulled away only to duck down and start to press his mouth against her neck, beginning to suck bruises into her skin to mark her as his to everyone that looked.

Her tease only further continued as she heard him groan in desperation when she rubbed against a particularly sensitive spot before he decided he couldn’t take it anymore and threw her down onto the bouncy bed as he held himself up with his hands, adjusting to be perfectly slotted in between her legs that locked together around his torso as she ran her fingers through his hair that fell down.

“Harry?…” She spoke up in a soft voice and he could feel her breath on his face by how close they were.

“Mhm?” He reached down to position himself against her clit and began to jut his hips forward and back eliciting a high-pitched squeal.

“F-Fuck me.” She had the wind knocked out of her as soon as he entered her before she could finish her request.

Both parties let out loud moans as they both felt each other in the most intimate way possible. He let her adjust to his size impatiently since it took all of him to not move inside of her. The warm, wet walls of her womanhood drove him crazy and he swore he nearly came undone already when she clenched around him.

“You ready, honey?” He asked shakily, he just wanted to feel every inch of her.

A timid nod came from her a few seconds later signalling her consent and he wasted no time in dragging himself out until just the tip was engulfed before plunging back into her tight hole, encouraging another in-sync moan.

Gradually, he picked up a regular rhythm and fastened his speed as soon as she muttered the words, “faster” and “harder”. The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the air mixed in with their combined moans and groans.

“Yeh feel so good, so deep.” She plucked up the confidence to try her hand at some dirty talk he had never heard from her before but he had to admit, he felt himself twitch at her words.

“God, you’re killin’ me.” He shivered as he picked up his pace.

“Yeah?…” She smirked as she leant up to press her wet lips against his, moaning against them. “Fuck, Harry, don’t stop.”

Every word she said stroked his ego even more and it turned him on to no extent to get praise that he was doing everything she wanted. With a few more hard thrusts, he felt the familiar twist in his stomach.

“You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum for Daddy?” The nickname just slipped from his parted lips as he breathed heavily but it didn’t go unnoticed by her, making her let out an exaggerated moan to let him know.

“Mm, Daddy’s so good t’ me.” She paused to peck his lips once more before arching her back as he brushed against that special spot. “‘M gonna cum. Want yeh t’ cum inside me.” She whispered.

Never had she been so relieved she had decided to take up the pill since she never wanted to stop feeling this level of ecstasy.

Hearing those words whispered so filthily from her cherry red mouth tipped him over the edge as he released hard, surrounded by her squeezing walls, which in turn, caused her to become sensitive and orgasm with him still deep inside of her as they both yelled each other’s names in pleasure.

The only noises that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the parting of lips as they gave each other loving pecks, trying to come down from their highs as he carefully pulled out.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened t’ me, you know?” She rolled onto her side to face the man that collapsed by her side and cuddled up to him, tracing the watch she had given him as a second Valentine’s Day present. In fact, she had the watch that matched. It came as a couple’s collection, what could she say?

“I know, baby girl. ‘N’ I love you very much.” He replied tiredly as he followed her movements on the timepiece.

“I love you too.”

         Though, how was she to know that he told her empty promises and gave her false assumptions?

The watch she had given him? He had unexpectedly dropped the bomb on her that he had supposedly ‘lost’ it one day nonchalantly, as if he didn’t really care, after coming back from one of his never ending nights out.

She still had hers.

She never took it off since she bought them both unless she showered and went to bed.

She always put it back on in the mornings even if she didn’t have plans. She just loved having the strap to remind her of their love when he wasn’t around.

However, whenever they fought, it always seemed to her that he forgot to speak with an underlying tone of adoration like she did since she could never really stay angry at him. Always pinpointing the cons of the situation they were arguing about and making her feel guilty that she even brought it up.

But ever since she packed up and walked away from his hold on her, she figured that the only thing she was genuinely guilty of, was loving him too much. Giving him too much.

She gave him everything she had to offer and during the first few years, she thought it was enough for him to believe she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

It was only when she started to feel her grip on him slipping away from her that she knew she was his second choice. Something that she never wanted to be.


If somebody asks how we died,
Please look them straight in the eye.
Call it, “suicide”.
Don’t fabricate, just tell 'em, babe.
It was suicide.
Don’t sugarcoat it, just let them know.


         The two men stood conversing with each other as they discussed the art that was on display for the event they were invited to. They had been colleagues before; however, they had lost contact after one of them took up a new job opportunity, meeting again after a good year or so and decided to catch up.

The art gallery consisted of the most recent masterpieces from unknown artists around the globe. It was an event organised to give exposure to struggling individuals chasing their dreams and it was people like Harry and his status who were invited to review the artworks and buy them if they were impressed. All the money earnt from these purchases go back to the original artists, which in turn, correlated to more of said artists’ pieces being on display in the future.

The prices they were going for weren’t exactly the cheapest either.

“‘Ey, didn’t your girl wan’ t’ be an artist?” Obviously, the break-up hadn’t reached the likes of Harry’s newfound pal yet and it instantly wiped the smile off of his face.

“Yeah.” A remorseful chuckle was puffed out, “Yeah, she did…”

“Actually, where is she? Yeh should’ve brought her along, yeh idiot, she would’ve loved this! Las’ time I saw yeh both, you couldn’t leave each other alone.” The uninformed man stood next to him gave him a playful nudge and a wink of the eye without noticing the sudden deflation of his friend.

“She, uh… She’s not my girl anymore.” He finally confessed after swirling his drink in his cup as he was pondering whether or not to actually tell the man beside him.

“Oh, shit, H, I didn’t mean t’-…” He began to apologise for being so insensitive but was interrupted by a shake of a curly head.

“‘S all good, don’t worry ‘bout it.” His eyes cast downwards, losing the twinkle in his eyes as he tried to smile genuinely.

“If yeh don’t mind me asking, mate, wha’ happened? You seemed so happy.” A hand was placed on his shoulder roughly as a form of comfort as he sighed heavily.

“It just… Didn’t work out.” A dismissive sip of his beverage came afterwards as the guilt of brushing his four-year relationship off like it was nothing came creeping up on his conscience.

“D’yeh really expect me t’ believe that, Harry?” The questioning tone of the man that clearly didn’t believe his reason for the end of his relationship only made Harry feel even worse about his disregard and internally convinced him to elaborate.

“It was my fault.” He rubbed his hand over his face, he didn’t realise actually talking about it would affect him this much - especially in public. “I, um… God. I cheated on her.”

The recoil of the friendly hand on his shoulder signified the disappointment his friend felt towards him but kept his mouth shut, willing him to continue to explain.

“She was everything I thought I wanted, that I needed. I had no doubt that she was the woman I could spend the rest of my life with.” Harry painfully started to release his pent up feelings ever since she walked away from him the week before. “I still think she is, you know?…”

He trailed his sentence off like he was ashamed to admit his feelings. He felt as if he didn’t even deserve to mention her name, let alone keep thinking about their future together. He pulled himself together, though, he owed her character enough to explain the situation fully and not give people even the faintest idea that it was her that caused the death of their relationship.

“I ruined four years of the happiest times of my life, Nick, for nothing… It was ‘bout five or so months. It lasted for five months. It jus’ happened, I never wanted to jeopardise wha’ her and I had bu’ it was when she was away for one of her work trips.” He felt the water building up behind his eyes, ready to start falling at anytime but he had to get it out. He didn’t care if he was in public or not, it had been eating him alive not being able to talk about it with anyone. “I went t’ the bar her and I always went when we were free. We used t’ talk for hours about jus’ anything. Each other. Our days. Our families. Our future… How much we loved each other…”

He had to quieten his voice at the end otherwise he knew he would’ve burst out into ugly tears. Not like he hadn’t been doing exactly that ever since the front door closed of their shared home. Well. His home. He didn’t even think it was a ‘home’ anymore. She was the one who made it feel like a home to him and when she left, it was just a building in which he slept in every night. With all of her belongings gone after she had come to pick up the rest, catching him in his time of vulnerability when he opened the door where he hoped she would’ve been back in his arms within the hour, it was just a house. There was no warmth left within its walls; only faded memories he tried so hard to block out as he spent his nights with a skimpily-clad woman he didn’t even know the middle name of.

“I met her at that same bar and we jus’ got t’ talking. I told her how lonely I felt with the love of my life away for weeks over a few drinks I bought us. By the time she was running her hand up ‘n’ down my leg, I wasn’t in my senses and jus’ allowed her to. The first time she kissed me the same night, I couldn’t stop her even if I tried - I was so far gone. And I… I enjoyed it. It’d been so long since I actually held someone close, video calls and textin’ can only do so much, y’know? ‘Fore I knew it, I woke up the next morning in someone else’s bed and her naked body beside mine in the exact same state. All of it jus’ spiralled out of my control from there, she never stopped callin’ me for another hook up and I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘no’… I should’ve, I know I should’ve, I had a perfect life with the perfect girl but I guess, for a moment, I wanted something else. Somethin’ new.” He didn’t even attempt to hide his shame as he looked up towards the ceiling to keep the rivers that flowed in his eyes at bay.

“She didn’t even try t’ leave as soon as she found out. She told me she knew at the third month about wha’ I was doin’ and said she stayed t’ try and change my mind.” He brought a closed fist up to his mouth, refusing to break down in such a public place, and already receiving a few judgemental stares from passersby as he struggled to contain his emotions. “God, she tried t’ change my mind…” He weakly let out a breath. “She did ev’rything for me. Her attitude towards me never changed at all, she still loved me with ev’rything she had. The best girl I could’ve ever asked for was all mine and I didn’t even give her a second glance most nights when I climbed into bed with her after I came on another girl’s tits.” His sudden outburst of anger directed at himself brought unwanted attention from the few that surrounded him, earning some disapproving stares and shushes.

“Why don’t yeh call her, H? You’re in bits.” A piece of advice was given to him from Nick who stood silently throughout his whole rant. The reply to it, however, was a mocking laugh as Harry threw his head back.

“Would you forgive me if you were her?” He stared blankly at the artwork in front of him, they must’ve been stood there for 10 minutes at the least.

Once again, silence was the dumbfounded man’s only response to his rhetorical question, and that was all Harry needed to nod to himself as if he finally understood. That he finally let it sink in that his relationship was indefinitely over and there was nothing he could’ve done to make it better.

There was only so many tears he could hold in at that moment before he couldn’t physically keep his wall up and all the emotions came rushing through the floodgates of his distress and trauma.

He had managed to keep himself together for all of the times he had to inform acquaintances of his new relationship status by simply brushing it off and saying exactly what he had told Nick at the beginning. But it had become too much for the secretly heartbroken man finally, and there he was. Sobbing disgustingly into his hand as he tried to cover his cries up to leave at least some of his dignity remaining intact.

He had come to the conclusion that it was never what she had done. It was never what she had said. And it was never what he thought he felt; like he just fell out of love with her. But it was everything to do with the way she still loved him unconditionally after acknowledging his unfaithfulness to her and it made his heart hurt.

By realising this too late, he had to live with himself knowing that he pushed her too far off the edge and that he actually did love her after all.

He still loved her.

But instead of falling asleep to the sight of her radiant face - peaceful as she cuddled into his body, he had to tell everyone that he, himself, killed the best relationship he had ever been in.


He had to call it ‘suicide’.