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naughtyneganjdm · 3 months

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Lost & Found - Chapter 2

Summary: Once Negan gets better, he tries to teach Mia to fend for herself so she can take care of herself when he leaves, but Negan finds himself more attached to this girl than he expected to be.

Characters: Negan, Mia, Y/N (reader/OC), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53376820/chapters/135146467

Warnings: Swearing, Gore, a child gets hurt, Severe Angst, etc.

Notes: I was going to wait to post this, but since it's already done and the reason I didn't post it all at once because I thought it may have been too long is why I'm just posting it today. I know it won't get the hits because it's not smutty, but that's okay. I wrote this all in one night a few weeks ago. (Chapter 1)

“Would you knock it off,” Negan looked back over his shoulder to see that Mia was standing in the middle of the woods with her head tipped back and her hands thrown up in the air. With the rays of sun shining through the trees, she was enjoying the way it felt over her flesh. “You’re being weird again.”

“I’m sorry man, it’s just been a long time since I got to be outside this long,” she informed him, her long eyelashes fluttering when she turned her head to stare out at Negan with a big cheesy smile. “It feels nice to get the sun on my skin.”

“You have to listen to me,” Negan snapped his fingers to get her attention hearing her huff loudly. “You’re never going to survive if you can’t focus.”

“I’m focusing! I listened to you when you explained to me how to dress a wound. Which I obviously knew by the way since your ribs. I helped you move the bush and the branches over the gates to hide the fence. I listened to your long ass description of each and every gun,” she listed off the things they had already done together, “So please excuse me if I take a moment to enjoy the warmth on my skin after being locked away inside of a house for so long.”

“Mia, I’m leaving tomorrow,” Negan reminded her of what was happening. Over the last few days Mia had been taking care of him and nursing him back to health. Today was the first day he actually had the strength to get up and move around. “If you don’t pay attention now, you are never going to make it. You have to find your own food and be able to survive.”

“Okay! Okay! I’m listening boss,” she lowered down into the same position that Negan was in noticing that he was pointing to the footprints that were in the grass.

“You have to be able to track and be quiet,” Negan motioned her to follow him to track the deer that they had been for a while now. When they made it to the bush, he motioned her to be quiet and reached for the bow to give it to her. Pointing out in the distance to where the deer was, he saw her face turn pale at the idea of actually killing the animal. Motioning her to use the bow the way he taught her earlier had her expression changing and he could tell she didn’t want to do it. “I know you’ve never done this before, but it’s the only way to survive.”

With a frown, she did what Negan had shown her earlier in the day with the bow and arrow. When it hit the deer and it let out a pained sound, Negan reached out to pat her on the shoulder, “Good job. We’ll have a good meal tonight because of you.”

“I just feel like a horrible person doing this Negan,” Mia stated when Negan moved up on the deer with his knife and she had to look away when Negan finished the deer off. A gagging sound fell from her throat when Negan looked back at her with his hands bloody. “I hate killing something else…”

“It’s the only way you live,” Negan reminded her hearing the sound of something moving in the bushes and he pulled his handgun out, stepping before Mia to keep her behind him when he saw three men approaching them. “Back off.”

“Hey, we don’t mean any harm,” the man in the center explained, his features softening when he looked beyond Negan to see that Mia was with him. “We just didn’t know someone else was out here hunting. We didn’t mean to scare you and your daughter.”

“I’m not his daughter,” she spoke up, her face scrunching when the man that was speaking gazed over her. Negan hushed her and tried to push Mia back behind him to keep her safe. Hearing someone else refer to her as his daughter out loud made even him uncomfortable. “What?”

“She’s not your daughter? With the same eye color, the dark hair and the dimples?” the man inquired drawing Negan’s lips to part, getting distracted in that moment to look back at Mia. Clearing his throat, Negan noticed the way that the sun hit in her hazel eyes and he felt a breath catch in his throat. “I’m sorry young lady. I just thought this was your daddy.”

“My dad died,” she responded once more and immediately Negan cut her off.

“The deer is ours,” Negan informed them, his thick eyebrows bouncing up.

“Do you have a place around here somewhere?” the stranger questioned, but Negan remained quiet. “If you’re looking for a group to join, we have a campsite about a mile or so away. If it’s just the two of you, it might be easier if you join us.”

“We’re good. We’re not alone and our group is waiting for us,” Negan lied, keeping his gun up like he had taught Mia days earlier. “The three of you can move along now. We’re fucking good.”

The three strangers stayed where they were and Negan clicked something on the gun drawing the stranger in the middle to throw his hands up, “Listen fucker, if you don’t leave, I’m going to put a bullet right between your eyes and then your friends. So I suggest you get the fuck out of here.”

“Like I said, we didn’t want any trouble,” the stranger hit the chest of the other two he was with before nodding in another direction. “We will get on our way.”

“Better do that,” Negan waited for them to leave, never lowering his gun until he knew they were far out in the distance. Swiftly moving down, Negan grabbed the deer the best he could and threw it up over his shoulders. Motioning Mia to stay close to him, he walked around in circles for a while and out of the way to make sure that people weren’t following them. Just in case they might be tracking the two of them, he hoped by doing what they were, the strangers would get lost.

“What are we doing?” Mia questioned when she even picked up on Negan acting strange. “This isn’t…”

“Quiet,” Negan hushed her with a hiss before finally leading them back to the cabin. Once they got there, Negan did his best to hide everything and dragged the deer into the kitchen. Dropping the deer on the counter, he heard Mia let out a disgusted breath when the blood splattered. Starting to pace back and forth in the kitchen had Mia’s eyes locked on him, confused. “Fucking hell.”

“What is it?” Mia didn’t understand what was going on and he gave her a glare.

“You are going to fucking die Mia!” Negan claimed with tension flooding his veins.

“What?” she gave him a surprised expression when Negan threw his bloody hands up in the air. “Why?”

“You don’t give strangers personal information!” Negan snapped at her, his face twisting with anger when she looked up at him with her big hazel eyes. “People aren’t nice anymore Mia! They are more dangerous than the walkers and you are able to wind up dead in those kind of situations.”

“You were a stranger,” she reminded Negan and he immediately shook his head.

“I’m not like everyone else Mia! You have to be cautious of everyone. You have to be prepared to kill anyone because they are going to do the same to you. They don’t care if you’re a kid,” Negan continued to lecture her seeing the color growing in her cheeks the further he yelled at her. “People will kill you or they will do something…much, much worse.”

“What’s worse than killing me?” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowing and Negan let out a growl of frustration. “I just don’t understand Negan.”

“People aren’t good Mia. That’s why I had to walk around like I was so they couldn’t follow our tracks,” Negan educated her on what he had done, his head shaking when he stared her down. “Men like that are dangerous. You’re a pure, sweet, little girl that they can take advantage of and hurt. Do you understand me?”

“Negan, I just…” she tried to reason with him since she hadn’t really felt like she did much wrong.

“Do you understand me?” Negan screamed at her causing her to lower her head.

“I understand,” she nodded, a lump growing in her throat while she tried to avoid getting upset with him screaming at her like he was.

“If you don’t listen to the things that I’ve been telling you, you’re going to die and then there will be nothing for your mother to come back to. Do you understand?” Negan snarled when he noticed the redness growing in her cheeks as she continued to avoid looking at him. Curling his finger underneath her chin, he forced her to look up at him and let out a shuddering breath. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” she responded with a firm nod trying to hold back on her emotions that she was having. Even though she was trying to put up a façade, Negan could tell that she was getting emotional. “I’ll pay attention and listen to everything that you have to say.”

“I’m going to show you how to deal with this deer. It’s very similar to how you would deal with any other animal. You don’t let things go to waste. Not anymore,” Negan started, leading her toward the counter while he started doing the process of what to do after you killed the deer. Even though she was uncomfortable, he made her do a lot of it with his help and instructions because he knew she would be left alone. Whenever it looked like she was going to get sick, Negan would take over and give her a break. At the corner of his eye, Negan could see that Mia was observing him closely. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Do you think that guy was right?” Mia brought up the men that they had run into and Negan stopped for a moment to look over at Mia. “Do you think you look like you’re my father?”

Hearing her ask him that question caused his heart to skip a beat. A breath caught in his throat and he immediately lowered his head to go back to work trying to avoid the question. It had been something that he considered several times since being here, but he didn’t want to bring it up to her.

“We do have the same color eyes. The dimples,” she pointed to her cheek when Negan gave her a quick look trying to avoid getting blood on his face. “Even the freckles on our shoulders.”

“Your father died, Mia,” Negan reminded her, his nose wrinkling when he tried to stay firm about everything. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but maybe my mom was lying like you said,” Mia suggested and Negan almost heard a hopefulness in her voice. “We have so much in common and I do look like I could be yours. We both love peanut butter…”

“Everyone loves peanut butter,” Negan corrected her with a grunt, shaking his head when she was considering this whole thing herself. In one hand he had a knife when he shrugged his shoulders and he noticed that he was dripping blood all over the floor. “You know, unless they are allergic or some shit.”

“You don’t think I look like I could be your daughter?” she wondered having him step back to stare out at her. The truth? Yeah. She looked very much like she could be his. He thought it from the first moment he saw her.

“I’m not your dad,” Negan shook his head, refusing to allow that thought to linger between either of them when he went back to work. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Some random woman gets pregnant with my baby fourteen years ago and just somehow, miraculously I find her in the middle of the woods in a cabin fourteen years later?”

“Weirder things have happened,” she went to try to help Negan when she noticed his hands were shaking and he lifted his hand to stop her. “So there is no way that you could be my father? You weren’t with anyone back then?”

“Mia, I can hardly remember what I did last week let alone fourteen years ago,” Negan reasoned with her, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat. “I’m not the only person in the world to have dark hair and hazel eyes.”

“Yeah, but the dimples and the freckles,” she reasoned with him, tugging at her shirt to reveal the freckles that were over her flesh. Stepping forward, she tugged at Negan’s shirt to look at the freckles that were on his shoulders and he pulled away from her with a huff. “Maybe it was the world’s way of…”

“You’re not my daughter!” Negan snapped at her, throwing his hands up in the air to have her stop talking. “I understand that you are probably feeling a certain way because your mother has been gone for so long. You’re looking for someone to cling onto, but I’m leaving tomorrow, Mia. Think about what the chances would have to be for that to happen. It’s impossible. And I have a family. A son that I have to get back to. He needs me.”

After Negan brought up Joshua to her, it made tears burn at her eyes and she nodded her head, “you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. My dad is dead.”

“Can we finish this please? I’d like to get some sleep tonight so I can start early,” Negan begged of her noticing her lifting her arm up to wipe at her eyes with an area of her arm that didn’t have blood on it. Without another word, she stepped forward to help Negan.

Most of the night she stayed quiet, even throughout dinner after they cooked. That was rare for Mia, but she talked. A lot. Just like him. Negan taught her how to preserve the meat and use other parts of the deer. When it was time to separate for the night, Negan went to the room he had been staying in. During the middle of the night, he heard movement in the hallway and he carefully got up to look through the small crack in the door. Mia was sitting on the stairs and she looked deep in contemplation, but also sad.

Considering talking to her, Negan realized it would only make things harder in the morning when he left so he just went back and crawled into bed. By morning, when he came out with the bag he had upstairs packed, he found her sitting on the couch and he wondered if she had been up all night.

Usually Mia never shut up. Yet she was speechless right now. Mia went to sit on the stairs again with nervous energy, but she still said nothing. With him packing the rest of the supplies that he would need that he was taking from what Mia had after their agreement, he could see that her face was red and she looked extremely upset.

“Well kid,” Negan went to the bottom of the stairs with her hazel eyes lifting to meet his. “I guess this is it. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Yeah,” she moved down the stairs and held out the thing that she had in her hand. Seeing that it was a full jar of peanut butter made Negan’s eyebrows bounce up. “Here, you should have this since I know peanut butter is your favorite.”

“I already have enough,” Negan pat his backpack knowing that she had already given him supplies for his journey. When she held the jar out further toward him, he accepted the jar of peanut butter and gave her a small nod. “Thanks kid.”

“I hope you find them,” she whispered, a tremor falling from her throat as she tried to keep things together. Holding her hand up, she curled it into a fist and held it out to Negan. With a smirk, Negan fist bumped Mia and gave her a wink. “Goodbye Negan.”

“Goodbye Mia,” Negan motioned her to follow him outside so she could let him out of the gate. Before he left, he made sure to help her chain everything back up. “Make sure you cover everything once I leave,” Negan gave one more order noticing that she was having a hard time looking at him when he left. “I hope your mother comes back Mia.”

There was a single tear that was sliding down her face when Negan frowned and lowered his head. Maybe he should have said something more or done something, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Pushing forward, he knew that he had to keep on and find his family. It was hard leaving a kid that he knew had nothing, but he had to. His family was out there waiting for him and he had been gone long enough.

For a while he walked and made some good distance. After some time, he started to hear footsteps following him and he would steal a look over his shoulder to try to see what it was. Keeping on, he heard the footsteps start to quickly come up on him. Turning on his heel, he brought his gun up only to come face to face with Mia who had been following him.

“Mia! What the hell are you doing?” Negan yelled at her, his heart pounding away inside of his chest. Mia had stumbled back when he had thrown the gun in her face out of surprise.

“Do you think…do you think that maybe you could just stay until my mom comes back?” Mia requested causing Negan’s throat to tense up, a small rumble of a groan falling from his throat. “Please. I have so much to learn still and…I don’t want to be alone again Negan. I’ll give you all the medicine that I have if you do. Please.”

“I can’t,” Negan shook his head, clinging tightly to his bag drawing the color from her features to return. “I have a family of my own that I have to find and get back to. I can’t just wait with you until your mom finally comes back.”

“You’ve been away from them this long,” she reminded him causing his dimples to become more prominent with the anger that flooded his veins when she brought up how long they had been apart already. “Why not wait a couple more days? What difference would it make if you just stayed with me a few more days until my mother came back?”

“I owe you nothing Mia,” Negan reminded her, his eyebrows bouncing up and his head tipping to the side.

“I mean, I did save your life,” she pointed toward his ribs, her chest aching at the annoyed glance he gave her. “You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

“And I paid you back plenty with my knowledge,” Negan insisted, throwing his hand up in her direction. “So don’t pull that shit on me.”

“Just a few more days,” Mia placed her hands together, her jaw clenching when she stepped forward toward Negan who pulled the cowboy hat he was wearing from his head. “And when she comes back, then you can just…”

“Your mom isn’t coming back Mia!” Negan interrupted her having a frown flood into her young features. “I hate to be the one to tell you this Mia, but your mom is dead. You know that I’m right. If your mom was alive, she would have come home a long time ago. Something obviously happened while she was out on a supplies run. I can’t stay waiting forever with you because I have a son and a wife to find. You can’t trap me into staying with you while waiting for your mother to return when we both know it’s never going to happen.”

“Just a day?” she tried to get him to agree to something, but he frowned and shook his head. “Please? My whole life I’ve felt like I was just some kind of mistake. It’s my biggest fear. It always was. That I was something my parents didn’t plan and I shouldn’t have been here in the first place. I felt like a waste of space Negan. Until you came along. I felt like maybe I wasn’t a mistake anymore. I saved you. I took care of you. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Go home Mia,” Negan ordered, clutching to his bag and letting out a long sigh. It was breaking his heart hearing all of this, but there was nothing he could honestly do. “You’ve got a target on your back if you stay out here.”

“Negan?” she whispered his name with a whimper and he shook his head before continuing in the direction that he was headed all along.

It hurt leaving that girl all alone, but he had to or else he knew that he would never leave. There was no way that Mia was ever going to understand that her mother wasn’t coming home. He couldn’t get stuck in a child’s dream that was never going to happen so he had to make his way onward. For a while he walked until he came up on a small camp where a fire was burning. Swiftly making his way into the bush, he wanted to get by without being detected until he heard the sound of a radio being used.

“We found the girl from yesterday,” Negan stopped when he heard that and looked over his shoulder to see one of the men that he had ran into with Mia the day before. Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan squeezed his fist closed and lowered his head.

“Just keep going Negan,” he tried to coach himself, cussing under his breath.

“Did you find out where they were hiding?” the man stood from where he was sitting beside the fire and Negan lowered down. “Did you find the guy that she was with?”

“It was just her. She won’t talk,” the voice on the radio responded leaving Negan to lower his head. “I can’t get her to talk, so we’re bringing her back to the camp.”

“Good idea,” the stranger replied with a grumble, pacing in the small area that they were taking up in the woods. “I can think of a few ways to get her to talk. And if she doesn’t, I really don’t care. I’ll make good use of her.”

“Fuck,” Negan lowered his head into his hand. There were four people already at the camp and he had no idea how many were coming back. Cussing to himself, Negan thought about what he was supposed to be doing. Where he belonged. If he stayed behind to help this girl, he would likely get hurt again or die before he found his family again. “Come on Negan.”

Trying to stay close to the ground, Negan managed to get out of the area of the camp, keeping his head down. He couldn’t let a few days ruin the few years of planning that he had done. It was the sound of a gunshot going off that made him panic. Rushing back toward the camp, Negan carefully came up on it noticing that one of them he had just seen was lying face first in the dirt dead.

“Stop moving you little shit,” the original stranger they interacted with was screaming at Mia from where she was underneath him on the ground. Two of the others were holding her wrists down while she struggled. “You just killed one of my men, you can’t just expect me to let you go without punishment.”

“Get off of me you fucker,” Mia spat at the man and Negan could see that her face was bloody from whatever the men before had done to her. “I’ve got nothing to give you.”

“Where is your dad?” the man questioned, grabbing a firm hold of Mia’s face to get her to look up at him. One of Mia’s eyes were swollen and Negan felt his chest tightening when Mia said nothing. Reaching behind him, the stranger grabbed a hunting knife and held it to Mia’s throat hearing her whimper. “Where is your dad?”

“He’s not my dad,” she repeated what she had told the man the day before. A scoff followed and the stranger dug the tip of the knife further into her flesh. “He’s not my father!”

“Come on little girl. You look exactly like that guy and you expect me to believe you aren’t his kid,” the man half laughed drawing Mia to swallow down hard. “It be one thing if you weren’t a spitting image of him, but you are. You’re expecting me to believe that you aren’t a product of that man’s nutsack?”

“I’m not. Even if he was my dad, he’d want nothing to do with me,” Mia explained wincing when the tip of the blade cut at the side of her face. “He left me! He was just a stranger. Please.”

“Fine. Whatever. I don’t care, he’s not your daddy,” the man mocked her hearing her straining to get out from beneath him. “Where is all of your stuff? Your community?”

Instead of answering the man above her, Mia spit causing the blood from her mouth to spray in his face. With a laugh, the stranger shook his head and wiped at his eyes, “You don’t want to talk? Fine. I’ll find other things to do with you then…”

Going to reach for Mia, the man screamed out when she sank her teeth into his hand causing him to yelp. Trying to pull his hand back, the man couldn’t get her off him and when he finally did, his fist came crashing into her face.

Immediately reaching for his gun, Negan started firing it off hitting one of the men that was holding Mia down on the ground between the eyes. There was no more holding back, Negan needed to protect her now. Shooting the gun at the other one holding onto her wrist had the man rolling backwards and Negan felt his body being tackled by someone from behind. The gun fell from his hand, sliding a few feet away while he struggled with the weight that was over him. Bringing his elbow back over and over again, Negan managed to get the person that was there off before he reached for his hunting knife to bring it back to stab the person that was behind him in the throat.

Shoving the weight off of him, Negan swiftly got to his feet only to feel someone tackling into his ribs drawing him to hit the ground hard. That knocked the wind out of him, especially since he was still tender there from being injured. Over and over again fists hit him and he did his best to block the punches, but the person still got a few good hits in. When the man over him got tired, Negan managed to get a few powerful hits in before bringing his knife up to dig it into the center of the attacker’s chest. Pulling it down gutted the stranger that was over him, causing blood to pour down over Negan. Grunting out, the weight of the body fell in over him and Negan hissed shoving the weight off of him. Struggling for the gun that he had dropped, Negan scoffed when someone shot at the gun causing him to fall back. Gazing back over his shoulder, Negan saw there were two of them left. One was the main stranger that they had seen yesterday and Negan presumed he was the one in charge. He was the one with the gun and the second stranger was approaching Negan.

“I knew daddy wouldn’t be far away,” the man in charge muttered when Negan considered his next move. Noticing that there was a rock beside him, Negan waited until the man approaching was close. Sweeping his legs out, Negan locked his legs with the stranger causing him to stumble, hitting his head on the oversized rock leaving a large blood smear across it. Snatching his gun up from the ground, Negan held it up at the stranger in charge while keeping his knife in his opposite hand. It was then that Negan noticed the stranger had an unconscious Mia in his arms with his knife pressed to her throat and his gun pointed at Negan. “Don’t!”

“So you get your rocks off hurting little girls?” Negan questioned wiping the blood away from his bottom lip. “Is that your thing?”

“Drop your gun or I swear to God I will cut her throat,” the man screamed at Negan watching Negan toss his gun to the side and hold his hand up in the air. “You give me your group’s location and I will let you have her.”

“See, here is the thing,” Negan took a step closer hearing the nervous breath that fell from the stranger. It had him clinging tighter to Mia and Negan clung tightly to the knife in his hand. “You hit that little girl. There is no fucking way I’m going to keep you alive.”

“I said stop,” the man warned, shooting the gun off and hitting Negan in the arm with the bullet. A grunt fell from Negan’s throat when he looked to it and then back to the man. “I said stop!”

Rushing the man, two more shots went off, but a gurgling sound fell from the stranger’s throat when Negan managed to bring his hunting knife into the stranger’s belly before pulling up. Dropping backwards, the stranger released Mia who fell to the ground as well. Standing over the stranger, Negan looked to his own shoulder with a wince. One of those two shots hit him in the shoulder, but the second missed him completely.

“Your aim is shit,” Negan reached for the gun that the stranger had used, his head tipping to the side. “Are you part of a bigger group?”

“Fuck you,” the man snarled and Negan pointed the gun down at the stranger’s groin. “I’m not telling you shit.”

“Fine,” Negan shot the stranger in the groin hearing him crying out in agony. “Are you the last one?”

“I’m the last one. Please…” the stranger begged holding up his hand for mercy when Negan moved further in over him. “It’s just me. It was only us.”

“You should have left the little girl alone,” Negan took one final shot, hitting the stranger right between the eyes. Dropping the gun on the man’s chest, Negan looked to Mia and frowned. Picking her up in his arms, Negan made sure to grab his things before carrying her back toward the cabin. It took longer since he was injured, but once he made it back, he carried her into the cabin first and laid her down on the mattress that she had previously pulled into the living room for him. Going back outside, he locked things up and hid the gate as best as he could before heading back inside. Getting some water to clean Mia up, Negan frowned while he took care of her hating that he let this happen. He wished she would have just stayed in the cabin like he asked.

After he was done cleaning her up, he could only really see that she had a swollen eye with a bloody nose and lip. Which she should have never had in the first place. Once he was sure that she was okay, he shakily pulled his shirt off and assessed the damage of his gunshot wounds. The one in the shoulder was a whole lot worse than the one that hit his arm. The one in the arm was a flesh wound, but the one in his shoulder was one that he would have to dig the bullet out of.

Shakily searching the medical supplies that Mia had, Negan did what he had to in order to get the bullet out of his body finding himself thankful that this guy had a shit shot enough that it didn’t hit anything major. It was hard to clean up the wounds but he did what he had to in order to make sure that he was safe.

Waiting in the chair that Mia had before when he was hurt, Negan stayed there until morning. Toward the middle of the night he had started to drift and he tried to fight it, but he couldn’t. When it was morning and she started to shift, Negan noticed her trying to lift her head up and he motioned her to stay when he moved to the bed beside her.

“Hey, it’s me. It’s Negan,” he hushed her noticing the way that she seemed to calm down when she heard his voice. “You’re safe. I’m with you.”

Shakily her hand reached for his and he hooked his fingers with hers hearing her breathing uneasily, “I’m sorry I left. I’ll stay with you until your mother returns. Okay? I won’t leave you again. I promise.”

Mia said nothing, just gave a nod and lowered her head back to the bed weakly. Clearing his throat, Negan went to pull his hand away, but he felt her still clinging to it, “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Negan assured her lowering down beside the bed to allow her to keep holding onto his hand. “I’m right here.”

It didn’t take long for Mia to fall back asleep and he frowned looking her over. The thoughts about what the stranger said about her looking like him was running through his mind. They both had questioned in multiple times and he really did wonder if he was her father. Getting into the bed beside Mia, he laid at the other side watching her while she slept.

After a while he had fallen asleep as well and in the middle of the night woke up to see that Mia had cuddled up next to him much like he had described Joshua to her in the past. Clearing his throat, Negan lifted his head to see that her head was laying over his chest and he was thankful it was on the side that wasn’t hurt. Cautiously, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him so he could nestle his chin in over the top of her head. There was something about Mia that felt personal. And now he knew that he had to stay with her. There was no other way.

----

“Would you show your cards already?” Negan snickered from where he was sitting across the table from Mia who was staring out at her cards that were in her hand. It had been a month and a half since Negan had decided to stay with Mia and wait for her mother to return. Each day Negan could tell that her belief and hope that her mother would return was leaving her. But Negan did his best to keep her hope alive. “You take forever with this game. If I would have known you were incredibly slow, I would have never taught you poker.”

“Hold your horses old man. There is a lot at stake here,” she pointed toward the potato chips that they were playing with in order to do the game. Tossing the potato chips into the center to match his bet made Negan smirk and shake his head. Lowering down his cards, he showed her that he had a straight.

“Not so arrogant anymore, are you?” Negan stole one of the potato chips and she playfully swatted his hand away from the rest of them. Plopping one between his lips, Negan watched her lay down her cards to show that she had a full house. “Jesus. How do you always beat me?”

“Because I’m awesome,” she dropped her hands forward to scoop the potato chips in closer to her. A snort fell from Negan’s lips when she shook her head and pushed the potato chips forward. “But we can share.”

“Very bold of you kiddo,” Negan winked at Mia, taking another potato chip for himself before relaxing back in the chair that he was sitting in.

While relaxing, Mia collected the cards and started to shuffle the cards. It made him smile to see her working them the way that he had taught her. Grunting out, Negan pulled himself up from the chair and moved toward the fire that they had set up earlier in the fireplace. Grabbing his chair, he pulled it to him. Taking a seat, he got comfortable and looked to his wrist. Around it was a bracelet that Mia had made for him in their time together. Sadly, it made him think of Annie and Joshua. It had been six weeks since he agreed to be here with Mia and he never thought he would wait this long for Mia’s mom. It had been over two months since Mia’s mother had left and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she was never coming back.

“You know,” Negan began, looking back over his shoulder at Mia while she was playing a game of solitaire on her own. “You just keep beating me at all the games that I teach you.”

“That’s because you’re a good teacher,” she got up from where she was seated and grabbed her chair to move in beside Negan. Clearing her throat, she stared out at Negan who was looking at her funny. “What is it?”

“Can I ask you some things?” Negan inquired knowing that they had been on his mind for a while, but he was worried to ask them considering the topic at hand. When Mia gave him the go ahead, he stretched out his legs and frowned. “What else do you know about your father?”

“I told you everything I know about my father,” she reminded him, her jaw flexing when she reached up to stroke over her earlobe in a moment of contemplation. Grumbling to himself, Negan knew that was something he did when he was uncomfortable too and it made him sigh.

“You never saw a photo? She never gave you a name?” Negan threw his hand up in the air pretty sure at this point that Mia was his. That stranger wasn’t wrong. The more time that Negan spent with Mia, the more he realized it. From her physical features to some of the ridiculous quirks that she had—she was so much like him.

“I think it just hurt her so much to lose him,” Mia attempted to explain her mother’s behavior. “I don’t know Negan. She just has a ring that she wears. They were married and she never took it off. That’s all she has from him.”

“What does the ring look like?” Negan’s eyebrow arched up as he stroked his fingers down through his short beard. “Is there anything that stands out?”

“I don’t know, it looks like a ring,” Mia was dramatic, a laugh falling from her throat at how serious Negan was being about everything. “Why? What does it matter about the ring that she wore?”

“I don’t know,” Negan lied knowing that he was just trying to strike something in his memory that would make him think about a moment in his life where things made sense. “I just…I feel like if I heard something or knew something, it would make me remember.”

“Remember what?” she could tell something was wrong and she reached out to place her hand in over his. Negan’s fingers hooked with hers and he gave her a weak smile.

Negan’s lips parted when he considered telling her that he thought he was her father. Instead, he waved his hand in the air dismissively and shrugged his shoulders. There was a long silence that lingered over them for a while when they both sat by the fire before she finally cleared her throat. “I was thinking…it’s been over two months since my mother left. I uh, I know I shouldn’t think like this, but I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” Negan tipped his head to the side seeing the color draining from Mia’s features. “What’s on your mind kiddo?”

“If I was ready to finally let go, would you take me with you to go find your family?” she threw out the idea that had been on her mind for a while now after they had waited so long for her mother to return. “I know I’m just some stranger to them, but I really like being with you Negan. You’re the closest thing to a real parent that I’ve ever had.”

“Hey,” Negan frowned, hushing her when she said that out loud.

“I mean it. I loved my mom, but she never used to play games with me,” she pointed back toward the cards that they had been playing with. “I’ve learned more from you than I ever did my mother. I know about football because of you. So many new games. I’ve actually gotten to see the outside. And you make me actually feel seen. Before I felt like my mother’s pet.”

“You don’t mean that,” Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and she shook her head with a saddened breath. “I’m sure your mother loved you.”

“My mother loved me the best way she knew how. You’re the first person I’ve actually felt safe with,” she insisted, turning in her chair so that she could face Negan. “You want to get back to your family Negan and I can’t keep holding you back. So why don’t we pack up and I’ll go with you? I’m helpful. I’m a decent cook. I can teach Joshua games. I can babysit when you and Annie want to have alone time.”

“Mia,” Negan snorted, rolling his eyes at the last comment.

“Please?” she begged of him, her eyes gazing over Negan when she shook her head. “I’d rather just go with you than stay waiting for someone who really never loved me that much in the first place. I know you don’t feel the same way, but I lo…I care about you Negan. You’ve cared for me more in the last month than anyone has in my life.”

“I…” Negan could see the hopefulness in her eyes. It took a minute before he sighed and he gave her a slow nod. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll take you with me to Missouri. You’re just going to have to listen to me and be on my ass at all times.”

With an excited breath, she jumped across the small space to give Negan a hug. An amused sound escaped his throat when she put as much of her strength into it as she could. Hugging her back, Negan nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck and smiled.

“Thank you, Negan,” she was grateful for him agreeing and she excitedly hopped up from her seat. “I’ll pack tonight! What should I take? How much should we bring?”

“Hey! Calm down. We have to think things out and then we can pack tomorrow. We’ll leave the day after,” Negan announced knowing that he had found comfort in this home, but he wanted to find Annie and Joshua. Staying here was nice, but this wasn’t where he belonged. He knew that. “Let’s just sit and talk about it. Then we will figure everything out.”

And that’s what they did. They planned everything. They packed and she asked a million questions about Annie along with Joshua. What they were like. The things they liked. And he found it charming that she was doing that. With how much she talked, Negan couldn’t help but find amusement in it. She was so much like him and he knew that. They had fallen asleep talking about things before waking up in the morning to go over everything.

“When are we leaving?” Mia seemed frustrated while she paced the living room with Negan taking in account of everything they were bringing with them. “We should just go.”

“Missouri isn’t that close Mia. We just have to make sure that we have everything. We have a very long journey ahead of us. Okay? Just let me make sure that we have everything that we are going to need,” Negan hushed her while he finished looking through all their stuff. The fact that she was so excited to leave surprised Negan. It was a huge difference from the little girl he had met originally. A laugh fell from his throat when he felt Mia wrapping her arms around him from behind. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you a hug,” she answered him, burying her head against the side of his neck drawing Negan’s laughter to grow. “I’m just glad you came into my life Negan. You showed up when I needed someone the most and I love you.”

Hearing that drew a breath to catch in Negan’s throat. Closing his eyes, he cherished the hug that she gave him.

Tension flooded Mia’s body when she heard a faint sound coming from outside. Looking back over his shoulder, he could see something change in her eyes when she looked back toward the door, “What is it?”

When they both heard it this time, Negan watched Mia scramble to her feet and run to the door looking out the front of it, “It’s my mom.”

“Mia, don’t,” Negan warned knowing that it had been so long that it likely didn’t make sense that her mother would be returning. It was too fast though because she was running outside and pulling away the brush that Negan had previously thrown in front of the gate. Once it was open, Negan saw a woman hunched over. She was thin, her hair messy, her clothes dirty and she was covered in blood. It made his throat go dry knowing that whoever this was, she had obviously been through hell. “Mia?”

“Mom?” she whispered and Negan heard the woman let out a tremoring breath before stumbling forward. With the way she could barely hold herself up, Negan swiftly swooped in and caught her when she collapsed. It was obvious she had passed out and Mia was scrambling to get a good look at her face. “It’s her. Negan, it’s my mom.”

“Run inside and get a cloth wet,” Negan instructed carrying the woman in his arms toward the cabin after making sure things were locked up again. Laying her down on the couch, Negan could see that Mia’s mom was likely starved and abused. Wherever she was, she had gone through hell. Footsteps were heard when Mia returned with a cloth. “Go find her some clothes Mia. Some clean clothes.”

“Okay,” Mia ran off to do what Negan requested of her.

Negan did his best to clean up the woman before him. Once the blood and the dirt was mostly gone from her face, Negan felt his heart sink finally seeing the features of Mia’s mom before him. An overwhelmed exhale escaped him when he looked to her hand. Observing the ring over her finger had the room spinning around Negan. Dropping back onto his bottom, Negan cleared his throat and lowered his head between his thighs.

“Hey?” Mia called out when she entered the room again with the things Negan asked of her. “Negan? What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

“I uh…I don’t know,” Negan stammered with an uneven breath brushing his hair back when he gazed over at Mia. “Let’s just get her cleaned up and we’ll have to wait.”

For days they actually waited. Mia was exhausted and finally fell asleep in her room leaving Negan alone with Mia’s mother. When he was finally about to pass out, he noticed her shifting on the couch. Sitting up straighter, he saw her eyelashes fluttering and she let out a pained sound. Moving in beside her, Negan was doing his best to monitor how she was so he could help her in whatever way possible. When she finally came to, she turned her head to gaze over at him and she let out a shocked breath.

“Negan?” she muttered his name, shakily lifting up to reach out and stroke her fingers over the side of his face. Leaning into her touch, Negan closed his eyes and felt his mouth dry when her whimper followed. “Am I dead?”

“No,” Negan answered her, his eyes opening and he could see that she was crying while she stared out at him. “Hey Y/N.”

“How is this happening?” she let out a tremoring breath, doing her best to pull herself up, but Negan hushed her and tried to stop her from overextending herself. “I thought you were dead. When I went to Alexandria, I was told you were gone. That you weren’t…”

“I’m not dead,” Negan shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip grabbing a hold of her hand while she brushed her fingers through his hair. “I never was.”

“How did you find us?” she questioned, noticing that Negan was crying while he stared down at her and she reached up to swipe the tears away. “I never thought…I never thought I would see you again. I tried to talk to Rick after Mia was born, but no one would listen to me. They took some of the people from The Sanctuary, but they wouldn’t take me. I was too loyal to you and they wouldn’t let me in. Even knowing I was pregnant. They just gave me some supplies and shooed me off. I tried going there. I did and I thought I would save you, I just…they told me you were dead.”

“You stayed at The Sanctuary?” Negan confirmed with a frown, his bottom lip trembling when she nodded.

“Until we couldn’t anymore. We were forced out after a while. It couldn’t sustain life there anymore and we had to leave,” she educated Negan, her fingers tracing over the side of his face while she slid in closer to him. “I’m so sorry. I would have kept trying if I would have known that they had you. I just didn’t and…”

“Y/N,” Negan breathed out feeling her lips claiming his and he was frozen against her kiss at first. Closing his eyes, he allowed her to kiss him before faintly starting to kiss her back. When her fingers brushed through his hair and stroked at the back of his neck, he pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” she repeated with a weak smile. “Does Mia know that you are her father? Did you tell her? She’s going to be so excited to know that her daddy found us.”

“I’m married,” Negan stammered, his body trembling when she stared out at him with confusion. When she went to kiss him again, he put a distance between them and shook his head. “I can’t Y/N. I’m married.”

“I know,” she lifted her hand to show the ring that he had given her when they were at The Sanctuary together. Y/N was someone that Negan had flirted with for a long time. Someone that he had relentlessly asked to be one of his wives, but she always turned him down. So he romanced her and he romanced her hard. And somewhere down the line he truly felt like he had fallen in love with her. So that’s why when she finally agreed to be one of his wives, he had given her a real ring. At the time, he promised her that after everything went down with Rick that she would be his only wife. And he did know that she was pregnant. It was something he learned toward the start of his war with Rick. It was just when he asked about the people that were still at The Sanctuary, he was told that they all died and he believed it. When he returned to The Sanctuary after he escaped his cell that one day, when there was no sign of Y/N or a baby there, he just believed them. He thought they were dead and never went looking for them again. He couldn’t believe it was something he forgot until he saw her face again the other day. “I’m your wife.”

“Stop,” Negan begged when she went to touch his face again and he lowered her hands down to keep her away from touching him. “I’m married to a woman named Annie. We have a son. His name is Joshua and they are waiting for me in Missouri. I found Mia by mistake almost two months ago. I started thinking she was my daughter, I just didn’t know for sure. We were going to leave for Missouri the day you showed up to go find my wife and my son.”

“You’re not being funny Negan,” Y/N declared with a saddened breath and Negan shook his head slowly. “It’s not…”

“I’m not kidding Y/N. I’m very happily married,” Negan informed her noticing the way that she looked down at the ring that she still wore that he had given her so long ago. “I’m sorry. They told me when I was locked up that everyone was gone at The Sanctuary. I believed them. I thought you were dead. I thought our baby…”

“But Negan, I love you,” Y/N whispered, her voice broken when she shakily reached out to touch him. “I’m your wife.”

“You were one of my wives,” Negan corrected her, leaning back on his knees and shaking his head slowly feeling his heart breaking when she started to cry. “You are a past that I wanted to forget Y/N and I did. I moved on. A long time ago. I thought you were dead and I fell in love with someone else. Someone really great. She knows all of me and she still loves me.”

“So did I,” she reminded him with a sob and he felt guilty, dropping his head down when he saw her sliding back on the couch that he had her on. “Why wouldn’t you look for us? You know that I would never give up on you because I loved you so much. We worked so hard to get pregnant with Mia. We were…”

“I know,” Negan interrupted her with a shake of his head, letting out an uncomfortable sound. “I know. I just thought you were dead Y/N and I moved on. And I’m happy. I was happy. And I want to be with my family. I didn’t mean to, but I completely wiped that part of my life out of my head that I shared with you. I didn’t even remember it until I saw your face again the other day for the first time.”

Silence. That was all that was heard other than her cries while she stared out at him, “Mia and I were going to leave to go to Missouri and search for my family. She thought you were dead and you weren’t coming back. We can take a while to get you feeling better and if you want, I can bring the two of you with me. I can wait the extra time and we can all go together.”

“No,” she immediately responded with a shake of her head, reaching for the pillow that was beside her to bring it in closer to her. “I refuse to go on some journey with you so you can find the family that you actually wanted.”

“That’s not fair,” Negan cried, his head tipping to the side while she stared at out him with pain in her expression. “I didn’t know you were alive.”

“You didn’t even bother to look,” she yelled at him causing the color to drain from Negan’s features. “Now you’re asking me to follow you to another state to find the woman you are in love with. So I can what? Watch you and her together for the rest of my life?”

“You’d be safer with me. You and Mia would be much safer with me,” Negan suggested, his eyebrows full of emotion and he let out a tremoring breath. Hearing her sobbing broke his heart, but he couldn’t fix what had already been broken for so long. “Just come with me. We’ll find my family and all of us can be together. Mia is my daughter too and…”

“Oh, fuck you,” she snarled at Negan shaking her head in anger. “You’re in her life for how long and suddenly you think that you can say and determine what I do with Mia? No Negan. That’s not how this shit works.”

“She wants to be with me,” Negan explained, his fists tightening up at his sides with his body clenching up. “She doesn’t even know I’m her father and she wants to come with me. She loves me. She belongs with me.”

“You didn’t even fucking care to look for her,” Y/N snapped back drawing a shuddering exhale from his throat. “So how dare you act like you even care now. Do you have any idea what I’ve done to get back to Mia. What I’ve suffered through? What those people…” she stopped to look down toward the ground and she shook her head. “No, I won’t let you take Mia from me. Not after what happened to me. You won’t take my daughter. Why don’t you just leave Negan.”

“I can’t just leave knowing that you and Mia are here, vulnerable,” Negan reasoned with Y/N hearing her sobs getting harder. “You aren’t healthy. You both need to be protected. Just rest and in a few weeks we can all…”

“Get the fuck out of here Negan,” she screamed at him shoving her hands into the center of his chest drawing him to fall back onto the ground. “I have been heart broken since the moment they took you away. I haven’t been the same since and you just think you can do this?”

“It sounds like you were so fucked up that you were a shitty mother to our daughter,” Negan erupted back on her, shocking her with his response. “You taught her nothing. If I wasn’t here to take care of her in the two months you fucking disappeared, she would have been dead. I kept our daughter alive and she almost…she almost fucking died at one point, but I saved her. And then she tells me that you never even acted like you loved her to begin with. She’s felt more loved in the last month with me than she ever has with you. So why the fuck did you have to show up and ruin it? It would have been fine if you wouldn’t have showed back up!”

“So you get to just show back up in our lives, say fuck you to me and take Mia away from me?” she spoke softly while Negan’s heart pounded away inside of his chest. “So what was I Negan? Just someone you used to get pregnant? You promise me things that you will never give? Did you ever really love me Negan?”

“Of course I did,” Negan replied back with a frown, throwing his hands up in the air. “I did love you Y/N.”

“Like you said, I was just one of the wives though,” she reminded him what he had said earlier and he reached up to shakily brush his hair back. “I was just the only one dumb enough to love you, wasn’t I? To let you get me pregnant.”

“I understand you have to be going through a lot of emotions right now because of everything,” Negan began, the vein at the side of his neck protruding with the tension that he was feeling. “And no matter what I say to you, you’re never gonna believe me because you’re hurt. Regardless of what you think, I did love you and I was happy that you were pregnant.”

“But you found something better,” she filled in the blanks, her head nodding slowly. “I understand. I’m glad you found what you always wanted. I hope it makes you happy.”

“I am happy,” Negan assured her with a nod of his head knowing that what he was telling her absolutely destroyed her. “But I would be a lot happier if you and Mia came with me back to Missouri. You’d be safer. I’d get to be with my daughter. It’s a win for all of us.”

“No, you don’t get to have the best of both worlds,” she denied him, shaking her head and confusing him. “You pick them or her, you can’t have both.”

“That’s not fair,” Negan countered, anger flooding his veins with her giving him an ultimatum. “I don’t want to lose Mia now that she is back in my life. I’m her father. I belong in her life. You know that you both would be safer with me, but you’re mad at me so you’re holding this over my head. Look what happened to you being alone Y/N. Get your head out of your ass and do the right thing. The right thing for you and the right thing for your daughter. The two of you are just going to die here if I leave you. Look at you Y/N.”

“And it’s not fair that you abandon us and then you get to have everything you ever wanted. A family. A wife that you actually love. Two kids. While I have nothing,” she shook her head causing Negan to frown and drop his head back. Dragging his hands down his face had Y/N dropping back against the couch. “I wish you would have just stayed gone. Because at least with me thinking you were dead I thought you died protecting us instead of knowing that we meant nothing to you.”

“If I would have never showed up, your daughter would be dead,” Negan reminded her with a bit of venom in his tone. “Our daughter deserves to know that she’s mine. I’m leaving to go find my family and I’m going to give her a choice. She can stay here with you. Or she can come. She deserves to have a choice.”

“And she will pick you because you’re what’s new. You’re the fun parent that has shown her love that she never felt,” Y/N pointed out with a frown, squeezing the pillow in closer to her. “Thanks Negan. I take over two months of abuse and torture to make it back to my daughter only to have you take her from me. Thank you.”

“It’s not my fault that all of this happened,” Negan stood up from the floor, staring out at her with confusion flooding his veins. “She deserves to know that she’s my daughter. And she has the right to pick who she wants to be with.”

“Great. I’m glad that you are going to go find your family. Your son. Your wife. And you get to have Mia,” she tremored, a long shallow breath falling from her lips. “Congratulations Negan. You got everything you ever wanted in life. Good for you.”

“I suffered too you know. I was in prison for seven years with people abusing me and treating me terrible,” Negan hissed, his eyebrows furrowing in anger when she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Fuck it. If you want to be like that. Be like that.”

“I should have known from the start you never loved me. They all told me,” she laid back down on the couch, turning away from Negan when he stopped to listen to her. “Sherry, Dwight, Simon…even Rick. I just never fucking believed it. I was too in love with you. Or the idea of you, I guess. How happy you got when you found out I was pregnant, I thought you were happy to finally have a family. But it was just the baby you wanted. Not me.”

“That’s not true,” Negan reasoned with her hearing her crying when he attempted to move forward to reach for her again. “Can you please just be an adult about this and understand? It makes more sense for you to leave with me and go to Missouri. We’ll all be together and…”

Negan knew it was no use talking to her like this. It just wasn’t. In the end they were never going to agree. Going over to the other end of the room, Negan sat down and cornered himself. Thinking about things, he rocked back and forth. It took him seeing Y/N’s face for him to actually remember that he had a woman that he was married to that was pregnant when he got taken to Alexandria. Maybe she was right. How could someone who loved someone like that forget?

Looking up toward the stairs, Negan knew that he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to Mia, but he knew he had to leave. Grabbing his bag and one of the bag of supplies, he threw it over his shoulder and headed out the door. It was better for everyone if he just left and he knew that.

For a while he walked until he heard the sound of feet trying to catch up to him. Cussing out, he lowered his head and swallowed down hard, “Go home Mia!”

“No,” Mia’s voice responded while she moved in behind Negan. Looking back, he saw that she had the other supplies and her backpack on ready to go on the journey with him. “We made plans, we’re going to Missouri together.”

“Go home!” Negan screamed at her and she immediately shook her head. “Your mother is home now. We made a deal.”

“You promised. You told me that you would never leave me,” she reminded him with a whimper hearing Negan scoff.

“Until your mother returned home,” he reminded her with what he had said. “Your mother is home. Therefore, I owe you nothing. My promise? I made it. So I’m leaving.”

“Please,” Mia begged from where she was standing behind him with the bag over her shoulder. Her eyes were optimistic and she shook her head. “I want to go with you.”

“You are meant to be with your mother,” Negan could see that there were tears swelling up in her eyes while she stared out at Negan. Here she was begging to go with him not even knowing that he was her biological father. And that fact? It tore him apart. “You can’t come with me.”

Turning on his heel, Negan went to leave when he heard her feet following him and he stopped again, “Stop following me!”

“Negan,” she reasoned with him, her bottom lip quivering while she stared up at him. “I…we…I think…”

“You can’t be this stupid, right?” Negan dropped his bag at his side knowing that there was only one way he could think of to get her back to her mother and that was to break her. “I don’t love you, Mia. I don’t. You were a means of keeping me alive. I have no feelings toward you. You told me you cared about me and that you loved me. Did I ever tell you it back? I don’t love you.”

“That’s not true. You wouldn’t have stayed that whole month and a half if you didn’t care about me,” she reasoned with him, her dimples sinking in and it killed Negan seeing that he was breaking her down after his talk with Y/N. “I know you’re just lying to get me to stay here, but with you…I feel safer than I ever have in my life. I love you Negan. Please. I don’t care about anything else. I want to be with you.”

“I don’t want you with me!” Negan screamed at her, his body shaking and his eyes tearing over when she took a step back. Fear flooded into her features as Negan shook his head and bit down on his bottom lip. “You know, your father didn’t die Mia. In fact, your father knew that your mother was pregnant with you and he didn’t care. He didn’t even think about the two of you while he was gone. He just assumed the two of you were dead and he didn’t bother to come looking for you because he didn’t care. You and your mother? The both of you meant nothing to him.”

“That’s not true,” her voice tremored, her head shaking. “My mother said my father very much wanted me. That he loved me. That he loved her. That he would have done anything to keep me safe and…”

“Then why did he go off and have another family? He got married again and had a little boy,” Negan explained, his eyes narrowing when his jaw tightened. Contemplation started to flood her features when Negan started going off about things. “A little boy he loved more than he loved you.”

“Why are you saying these things?” Negan was hurting her and he could see that his words were breaking her heart. “You told me that I could come with you before. You said…”

“I thought your mom was dead,” Negan reminded her, his bottom lip quivering when he shook his head. “You see Mia. I know your dad isn’t dead because I’m your dad. We both know it. Even those strangers that we ran into knew that you were my daughter. All you have to do is look at us and you know that you’re my daughter. You have my eyes, my dimples, my freckles, my smart-ass sense of humor…”

Negan’s finger circled his own face and then he pointed out at her, “I’m your dad Mia.”

That backfired. After he confirmed for her what they both had wondered before her mother even came back, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around him to hug him. Holding his hands up in the air, Negan swallowed down hard and closed his eyes.

“Get off of me,” Negan demanded, shaking his head while venom flooded into his tone. “I didn’t want you then and I don’t want you now.”

Stumbling back, Mia looked up at him with her hazel eyes full of tears and Negan shook his head, “I knew your mother was pregnant with you. Once I was taken to Alexandria, I never looked back. I didn’t give a shit about the people there. I didn’t give a shit about your mother. And most of all…I didn’t give a fuck about you.”

A hurt sound fell deep from within her and her sobs followed. Even though he was trying to hold it together, he was breaking himself and he hated himself for doing this but he knew that he had to find a way for her to stay with her mother, “I could have come looking for you. And I didn’t. Because I didn’t care Mia. I started a whole new family. I have a son that I love. A wife…”

“Maybe…maybe you could learn to love me,” Mia whimpered, tears sliding down the sides of her face. “I don’t think we can make it without you Negan. I almost didn’t. Daddy please…”

“Don’t call me that,” Negan warned her, holding his finger up in the air and pointing it at her. “Don’t you dare call me that. You have no right to call me your fucking father. I didn’t want it then and I don’t want it now.”

“But you are,” she frowned, reaching up to rub at her tear-stained face while he continued to down talk her and chastise her. “I know you love me. And knowing that you are my dad, that just proves that this was meant to happen. You were meant to find me…”

“I have a son that I actually love and I’m going to find my way back to him,” Negan informed her with a shake of his head and he reached for his bag. This isn’t how he wanted things to go down, but Y/N made things clear earlier. There was no way that she would come with them and if he took Mia, it would destroy her. “I have a family that means something to me. And I’m going to find them. So why don’t you stay with your mother? Someone who actually loves you.”

“Please, I can help you find them,” Mia begged of Negan, her body shaking while Negan tried his best to stop himself from crying, but he couldn’t. “I’d be a really good big sister. I’d…”

“I’ve spent the last month and a half with you Mia,” Negan reminded her of the time they spent together and he shook his head. “And in that time, it only confirmed for me what I knew back then. I feel nothing for you. There is nothing here. You were a mistake. A poorly timed mistake that I never wanted in the first place.”

Calling her a mistake when that was the thing she was the most afraid of hearing hit her deep down and he knew that it would, “Goodbye Mia.”

Her sobs filled the woods and Negan continued walking through them. After a minute, he felt her running out and grabbing a hold of him in attempts to keep him near. Yanking his arm away, Negan spun on his heel and stared down at her, “I don’t want you, Mia. What about that don’t you understand?”

“Then I will sit here. And I’ll wait for one of the flesh eaters to get me,” she whimpered dropping down in the middle of the woods that they were in. “If you don’t want me, I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t like it with my mother. I love you and I want to be with you. Please.”

“I don’t care Mia,” Negan scoffed, grabbing his bag hearing her cries getting louder when he threw his hands up in the air. “If that’s how you want to leave your mother, then that’s your decision. From here on out? You aren’t my problem.”

“Please Negan,” Mia’s voice was broken when he turned away from her to look in the other direction. He had to convince himself to keep going. He couldn’t let this break him. He made his choice and so did Y/N. “Daddy. Please. If you leave, you’re leaving me to die. I’m begging you…”

Walking away, Negan could hear her cries no matter how far away he got. And he had to force himself to keep going. After what her mother told him, there was no way that it would have ever worked. And he had to tell himself that. He had to find Annie and Joshua. There were no other options. Y/N was his past and while he understood why she was hurt, she was the one that denied them going with him. So he had to respect her wishes. The best that he could hope for at this point was that they were able to keep going. That they would find a community and be able to move on.

More than anything he wanted to bring Mia with him, but her mother made it clear that wasn’t a possibility, so he had to wipe that idea from his mind and keep going. No matter how much it broke his heart.

#Negan #The Walking Dead #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan Fanfiction #twd fanfiction #negan x reader #Negan Smith #Dead City #Dead City fanfiction

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skzoologist · 5 months

Note

Heya!

For the 100 follower event, I was thinking:

Haunted House with ot9 🧋

"Did...you also see that shadow move...?"

-🐹

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: none

genre: crack, just a tad bit of fluff too

a/n: Dear, did you somehow look into my head? I was just thinking about how Bae would fair in a Haunted House a week or two ago, your timing is scarily good 🫢 Anyway, hope you enjoy this silly thing! Also my hand fucking slipped again, the word count only keeps getting longer with each request, what is actually wrong with me 💀

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

“Why are we here again?” - Chan asked, the usual strength in his voice now gone, replaced by unease. “Because you’re a weak, old man, and you said yes to Jisung hyung when he asked if we could come here.” - Seungmin replied with that typical, teasing tone of his, absolutely enjoying the situation to its fullest. “But a Haunted House? Really?? I’m gonna die in there and come back as a vengeful spirit, just to haunt all of you for the rest of your lives!” “Hyune, come on, it’s not that bad. Also let go of Bae hyung, you’re cutting off the circulation in his arm–” - Felix hastily replied, knowing his unbothered hyung would not say it himself.

Hyunjin let Bae’s arm go, the limb numb and unresponsive. The younger apologetically patted Bae’s back, a sheepish smile on his face that was quickly taken over by fear and nervousness. The older didn’t mind it to be honest, his own mind more occupied by other things.

But still, he gently ruffled Hyunjin’s hair with his working arm, silently focusing back onto the conversation the others were having, their group standing outside the dreaded establishment.

“Since this place allows bigger groups to go in, we can all go together, and maybe the scaredy cats won’t piss themselves this way.” - Minho smirked, a playful glint in his eyes as they swept over the mentioned males. “Hey!” - Chan shouted in english, not happy with his newly earned nickname. “What? Hyung is right. I’m afraid you’d die of a heart attack if you were to go alone.” - Jeongin added in, fistbumping with the group’s puppy and quietly laughing to themselves.

As Chan was silently seething in rage -obviously just annoyed at his menaces-, Changbin held him back by an arm and patted it, trying his best to not let chaos ensue this early on.

It hadn’t been long since they’d arrived at the place, having a day for themselves and to rest. So what other way to spend it, than to go have fun in an amusement park?

“Let’s just gooooo! We’ve been standing here for 20 minutes, I wanna see what’s inside already!” - Jisung whined, a pout taking its customary place on his face. “Yes, yes, we’re going, you whiny baby.” - Chan relented with an exhausted sigh, accepting his fate.

Jisung and most of the others lit up, cheering in anticipation, all the while Chan latched onto Changbin and went after Felix. Hyunjin was unsurprisingly attached to Bae with a deadly grip, as if his life depended on it, and considering how easily scared the man was, maybe that was the case.

Taking in a deep breath, Bae put his free hand onto one of Hyunjin’s, his long legs carrying him after the others.

Immediately after they stepped in through the door, the atmosphere was set. No light was let in from outside, not even through the tiniest of cracks; only faint, ambient lighting was there to lead the way and shine upon the various props placed all around.

Everything was there that you could ever imagine: from artificial cobwebs hanging down the ceiling to sprayed on blood, knives and scissors hugging the stains and painting a horrifying picture for the unfortunate ones who successfully glanced at it. The place was unnervingly quiet, only some faint laughter could be heard from deep within the heart of the house. Those usually obvious signs of it being played from a speaker now gone, having successfully planted fear into their minds.

The front of the group was having the time of their lives, going up close to every prop and mimicking the moving animatronics. Their joyous laughter strangely added to the mood, leaving shivers in their wake amongst the scared ones.

Everything was going as expected. Everyone was having fun to a certain extent, until the group somehow got torn apart, and in the worst way possible: those who were in the back got left behind, most of them shaking and on edge already.

“It’s okay Channie hyung, me and Binnie hyung will lead the way, so nothing will jump out at you or Hyunjinnie hyung.” - Felix’s deep voice was low and soothing amidst the chaos that was taking over their minds.

Chan and Hyunjin nodded, appreciation lighting up their eyes, something that the two at the front caught even in the darkness that caged them in.

This plan of theirs was the best they could come up with, because if it came to it, Changbin could just shout with all his might to show the poor workers their place and assert dominance. It’d happened once, a mere 10 minutes ago. Bae’s ears were still ringing just from the mere thought of it.

The tallest watched everything unfold in deadly silence, letting the two scaredy cats cling to him desperately and use him as a living shield. Mainly because he had no choice, with the way Hyunjin was practically glued to his back, Chan seizing Bae’s right arm for himself.

Their strategy seemed to have been working, Felix and Changbin easily triggering the scares and taking them in stride. They weren’t so easily frightened, they could take a little scare here and there. Not even the chains and hooks from the ceiling phased them, the rusted metal clinging together and drawing a chill up the others’ spines.

The other half of the split group could finally be heard nearby, a casual conversation freely flowing between the members despite their environment.

With no prior warning the room Bae’s group was in turned an eerie red, the doors shut closed with a sudden thump. The chatter outside was cut short, confusion pouring over them as they’d passed through that same room, yet the doors always remained open, no red light creeping out from underneath.

The ones inside were in a much worse condition, even Felix and Changbin panicking a bit now. Their vision was obstructed by the props dangling from the ceiling, every little movement causing them to rattle and send the boys into brief panic.

“Hey uh… Binnie. Did… you also see that shadow move…?” - Felix’s voice was shaky, even his mind was now playing tricks on him, urging him to grip onto the mentioned male’s shirt. “Thankfully not.”

That was the only thing that could be heard before something jumped out from the shadows, ignoring the two braver ones and going straight for the other three. Chan and Hyunjin screamed, their eyes shut and breath held back to a dangerous degree, arms impossibly tightening up around Bae’s unmoving form.

It was a worker, dressed up as a serial killer, their weapon held right in front of Bae’s face. Satisfied with the screams they earned from the covering two -and maybe Changbin too-, the killer left, expertly slinking back into the shadows.

The lights soon dimmed back to their usual state, the doors clicking open and the group whole once again.

“What the fuck was that?” - Seungmin asked, just slightly worried for his hyungs, something he wouldn’t ever admit. “I uh, I have no clue. I guess it was a timed event?” - Felix tried to reason, a hand carding through his hair and smoothing the stray strands out. “I have never heard you guys scream like that before. You guys okay?” - Jisung laughed out, joined by a few others.

The two shaken up males merely nodded, not trusting their voices after what had just happened, understandably so. This drew out another round of quiet laughter from the others, a bit more relieved now than before.

“Alright, let’s go then. We shouldn’t linger around for long, who knows what’ll happen next time.” - Jeongin suggested, a playful look thrown at Chan and Hyunjin’s way.

Everyone silently agreed, not even entertaining the thought of ever experiencing that again. They took on the formation they had started with when they’d first entered the haunted house, but now sticking closer together, just for that little bit of extra comfort it brought.

Chan and Hyunjin were about to go as well, but the one they held onto remained in his spot, still unmoving. A simple glance was all it took for the two to realise how rigid Bae was, every muscle in his body pulled taut.

“Bae hyung?” - Hyunjin quietly asked, voice a mere whisper.

No answer greeted him back, but it drew the whole group’s attention, everyone gathering around with worried and confused glances.

With no reaction to any of their questions, Bae finally moved, only one goal in his mind: Minho’s arms.

The older took him in his embrace with no question, only hesitating for a second, if any. Everything made sense to him now, why Bae was even quieter than usual, why his movements were a bit choppy and weird.

“Were you afraid, jagi?” - it was a simple question, one that finally got an answer in the form of a nod, more than enough for the older.

Minho breathily laughed, taking the scared otter into his arms and carrying him away, while Bae just quietly clung to his clothes and buried his head into the crook of his neck. Even as the menaces started teasing the flustered idol and repeatedly kept saying how cute he was, he just hid deeper into his hyung’s hold, feeling safe at last.

“Next time I’m carrying him.” “In your dreams, Sungie.” “How did you know?”

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jake-kiszkas-smirk · 2 years

Text

Manners

Josh Kiszka X Reader

18+ only, minors do not interact!

Warnings: unprotected sex, impact play, oral (m/rec), slight praise kink, bondage, little bit of dirty talk.

Word count: 2.4k

I didn't have anyone to proof read this so sorry in advance for errors

You sat in the lawn chair and listened to the conversations happening around you. Your best friend’s band had just performed and you had all gone back to his place to have a bonfire afterwards. Jake and you had been friends since you drunkenly bumped into each other years ago in a bar. You instantly had bonded over a mutual love for music.

“How was it?” He asked as he sat next to you,

“It was good! I liked that new song you played, I liked the solo” You replied and a proud smile spread on his face.

“Thanks, I’m excited about that one,” he said as he sunk further into his chair. “You staying here tonight?” He asked

“No, I think I’m going to head home soon actually, I worked today and I’m tired.” You said as you stood from your chair. You made your rounds, telling everyone bye, noting a certain curly haired man was missing from the group. You had a pretty good idea of where he was. You made your way to your car and before you could even get there you could see the silhouette of him leaning against your driver door. You walked slowly, taking a deep breath. Josh and you had been having a sort of, friends with benefits secret thing going on. He wanted more, you insisted that you didn’t, at least to him. You’d never admit it but you wanted more with him too, desperately. You were terrified to get close to him, in an emotional, love way. You were already so head over heels for him, you knew if you had him as emotionally and intimately attached to you as he wanted, it would absolutely shatter you to pieces if it ever ended. That along with the fact that you didn’t know how Jake would react, hence the secret part.

“Joshua” you said flatly as you approached him.

“Y/n” He replied a smirk on his face, “I just had to tell you how good you looked tonight before you left.” You kept your smile at bay, feigning the indifference as you dug for your keys in your bag.

“Mhm, definitely not out here to talk your way into my bed again, right?” You said as your eyes moved to his, a smirk now playing on your lips. He grabbed your hips, pulling you against him,

“If you’d allow me the honor, I’d love to” he whispered as he caressed your cheek and brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Maybe we can go get something to eat at that little 24 hour diner on the way?”

“Sex only Josh, remember.” You said as you backed away. He sighed as he moved away from your door, opening it for you when he heard the locks move.

“Right. Sex only” He repeated back to me, avoiding eye contact. Your heart ached at the hurt you could hear in his voice.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?” You asked as you started the car, pushing past your emotions.

“Anything you want mama.” He replied with a wink. He was always a little shy when admitting what he wanted in the bedroom, but you caught his hint. ‘Mama’

“Alright, follow me in your car, I’m not driving you home.” You shut your door, and rolled down your window “And give me a few minutes to go in before you, I need to get ready.” His brows rose at your statement and you drove off, not giving him a chance to respond. You planned out your tactics for the night the rest of the way to your house. You got there and hurried inside, knowing Josh wouldn’t wait long. You changed into your favorite black strappy matching set, threw on some red lipstick, and threw your hair into a high ponytail. You heard your phone buzz,

Josh-Can I come inside yet

-yes, lock the door behind you, and then come lay on the bed.

You leaned against your dresser, putting yourself on display. Josh hadn’t seen this particular set and you knew he was going to like it. You heard the front door open and close, a shiver of excitement flowing over you. His footsteps got closer and closer, he appeared in your room and stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on you. He turned to make a beeline for you, but you put your hand up,

“No touching, get on the bed” You commanded. He groaned and rolled his eyes but obeyed. “Shirt off before you lay down.” He lifted his shirt over his head and you admired his toned tan body. He laid back on the bed, but stayed propped up on his elbows so he could watch your every move. You got onto the bed and crawled up his body, licking a stripe from his navel to his collar bone. He shuddered and laid back, his hands instantly on you. You pulled away and smirked at him, tilting your head.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” He said realizing he had touched you. You wordlessly got up from the bed and walked over to your closet, picking up a box. “Fuck” Josh breathed out, but he had lust in his eyes, he was excited. You placed it next to him on the bed, opening it and taking out the handcuffs you loved so much. All you had to do was give Josh a look and his hands were already above his head. You straddled his chest as you secured his hands. You and Josh had a conversation when you first decided to start fucking each other. You discussed all your kinks and what you were comfortable with. You had discovered you were both switches but Josh leaned more sub with a masochist side, a praise kink too. You leaned more dom with a sadist side. You had gone over everything and set boundaries including a safe word. A glance down revealed his eyes traveling all over your body.

“You like this set?” You asked as you scooted back, effectively situating yourself over his crotch. You started grinding on him through his pants, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to answer

“Yes, you look so sexy mama” He said as he already started to tug at his restraints.

“Hmm already dying to get out of those? This is going to be a long night for you” A wicked grin formed on your face as Josh rutted his hips up into you with a groan. You leaned down, kissing his neck and working your way down his chest. You teased over his nipple before taking it between your teeth, causing him to hiss through his clenched jaw. You kissed lower and your hands found the button on his jeans. You kissed and nipped at his hip bones as you worked his pants and boxers off. His breathing had gotten heavier and he was repeatedly making fists and opening up his hands. He was absolutely dying to touch you and you knew it. He was already hard and you raked your acrylic nails up his thighs, your hands getting oh so close to where he wanted them. “You look so pretty laid out for me Josh, already so hard for me, does your cock need some attention?” his lashes fluttered and a shade of pink took over his cheeks.

“Yes please, want to feel your hand wrapped around me” He sighed, bucking his hips up.

“Oh, that’s not what I asked you baby” You smirked as you reached for your box. His eyes shot to your hand, watching as you drifted over different things, “Hmmm how will I show you the attention you want.”

“Shit” He said with a small laugh, realizing his mistake. You gauged his facial expression as you touched different things. You read his body expertly, you felt him tense slightly as your hand skimmed over your favorite crop whip. The end being a heart.

“I think this will do” You said as you lifted it from the box. His eyes dilated as they followed that little heart to his chest. “If you’re a good boy and remember your manners maybe I’ll fuck you, and if you’re really good maybe I’ll let you cum” He nodded eagerly,

“I’ll be so good for you mama, so good” He insisted, eyes still trained on that little red leather heart, waiting for your first strike. You were next to him on the bed, sitting back on your heels, you ran the crop down his chest and then back up slowly, abruptly bringing it back and down on his nipple.

“Thank you” He breathed out, and you grinned. He did remember his manners. You ran it back down his stomach. You looked at his cock, you couldn’t believe how hard he already was, precum leaking from the tip. You popped his hip with the crop, and he again thanked you. Having him under your mercy and so turned on had you quickly soaking through your panties. You knew you weren’t going to be able to hold out as long as normal. You moved the crop over his hip bones, running it softly up his shaft as you looked at his face. He was staring at the crop moving up and down his dick, anticipating the impact he knew was coming. His chest was heaving up and down and his whole body tensed as you brought back the crop, then back down on his dick mercifully softer than the impact to his hip and chest,

“Fuck!” He cried out, “Thank you, thank you mama” he groaned, you couldn’t tell if it was a tone of pain or if he was just that turned on. You tossed the crop to the bed, and caressed his face, gently scratching his scalp for a moment, his lips were parted but his breathing was ragged.

“You did so good,” You kissed his cheek and pushed a curl out of his face, “Would you like me to kiss it better?”

“Please, it’s aching for you” His words where almost a whimper at this point. You moved yourself to between his legs. You kissed the spot where you had delivered the blow with the crop.

“Thank you” it was barely audible. You licked up his shaft and he moaned, leaning his head back against the pillow. When you finally took him into your mouth the room was filled with the little noises escaping his lips and the lewd noise of you sucking his dick. He had his eyes clamped shut and you could tell he was trying not to buck his hips into your mouth. “I-I’m going to cum, please fuck me, want to feel you mama, please” he pleaded. You pulled your mouth off with a pop and looked at him for a moment. He put so much trust in you, and he was so vulnerable with you. That’s when it occurred to you that he was risking his heart just as much as you would be if you agreed to be more with him. Something came over you, and you realized you wanted him too, more than anything. He must have seen the shift in your emotion but he didn’t dare voice it. You silently reached up and undid his handcuffs. You straddled him again and leaned down, kissing him passionately. You pulled away and he gave you a look, asking for permission. You wordlessly nodded, and his hands were on you instantly, pulling you closer. The kisses were sloppy and intense as his hands traveled all over your body. The mood in the room had completely changed in an instant. You were melting into each other, and whether he knew it or not you were putty in his hands. Before you knew what was happening he had flipped you onto your back and was sliding your panties down your legs. He tossed them to the ground and ran his hands up your thighs as he positioned himself between them. His lips where back on your neck as he lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly slid into you and you both moaned, his forehead landed on your shoulder as he started thrusting his hips. His face was buried in your neck, his breath hot and so shaky it was revealing how close he really was. His body was so close to yours the friction against your clit was sending you quickly towards your orgasm. You lifted your leg and hooked it over his hip, giving him a deeper angle that threw you over the edge and had you crying out his name and grasping at his back and ass, pulling him against you, coaxing him to fuck you harder.

“You make me feel so good fuck, so good at fucking me” You praised and he started thrusting harder but his rhythm was faltering,

“Keep talking” He breathed, “Tell me how good my cock feels filling you up”

“So damn good Josh, want you to fuck me all the time, no one fucks me like you” you managed between moans, and it was enough for him. He was grunting and digging his fingertips into your hip as he pressed deep into you and came. He remained on top of you as you both caught your breath. Once you could both breathe again he rolled off and laid next to you.

“Are you ok?” He asked as he turned on his side to face you. You turned to him,

“The real question is are you ok?” you said as you inspected his wrists, they were definitely red and a little raw from the cuffs.

“Yes, I’m fine. That’s not what I meant though, during it just seemed like someth-“

“Do you want to stay here tonight” You asked abruptly. He stopped talking and looked at you curiously, thinking before he spoke but you could see the hope in his eyes.

“Like…on the couch?” He questioned and you couldn’t contain your giggle,

“No, here, in my bed” You looked at him with a shy look, very uncharacteristic for you. A small smile spread on his beautiful mouth.

“I’d like that” He said softly, scooting closer, “Maybe we can get breakfast tomorrow?” He looked at you expectantly, those doe eyes that were your weakness. You nodded and brought his wrist to your mouth and kissed it. He pulled you closer and ran his fingers through your hair, quickly putting you to sleep.

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van smut #josh gvf #josh kiszka #Josh kiszka smut #fanfic #Josh kiszka fan fiction

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serasvictoria · 2 years

Text

First time writing for Stranger Things, because like so many others have found out before me, this guy just kinda grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go. I simply had to get it out of my system. This is the result.

Title: Spellbound

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Eddie is very new and still very much a secret. You want to make it known that the two of you are an item, but Eddie doesn’t want you to get targeted simply because of your attachment to him. Will you be able to change his mind?

Word Count: 7233

Content Warnings: Smut, smut, smut? Plenty of teasing (not gonna lie, but the poor boy suffers). Fingering. P in V (unprotected but I promise that there’s a reason for that). That’s about it.

Notes: I use italics to emphasise certain words, but, I also use it for flashbacks or thoughts. I tried my best to make it clear so people could tell which is which. Hopefully.

Beta read by the lovely @adrille88. Any remaining mistakes are all my own.

Tagging @quantumlocked310 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

***** The sound of music only got louder the closer you got to your house.

Drowning it out would have been preferable when the kid that lived next door to you had first joined the band, but they had improved over the years. You actually quite liked listening to them play these days, but you’d only admit to that under threat of death.

Or so you liked to claim.

Stepping off the sidewalk, you walked through the grass, straight ahead in the direction of your house. Your new path brought you a few feet from the open garage doors and you could already see the first band member with his back turned to you. A few steps more and you could see that all of them were facing that all too familiar face that was sitting behind his drum kit.

Gareth - kid next door, brother from another mother, drummer of Corroded Coffin - raised his hand in greeting the second that he spotted you. You waved back and then the three other members turned around to face you, two of which gave a nod of acknowledgement, whereas the last guy winked so quickly that it was almost imperceptible.

“Sounds better than yesterday,” you called out to Gareth, who looked thoroughly impressed that you had even noticed. “Don’t make it too late though. It’s a school night.”

“Yes, mom.” Gareth put a lot of emphasis on the last word and you flipped him off in reply. “Promise.”

“Good. You don’t want me to come back over here and kick all of your asses. Have fun, gents.” You gave them a quick mock salute and continued on your way.

Since you had already moved out of view, your back turned to them now, you were unaware that one of the guys had walked out of the garage so he could watch take the last remaining steps to your house.

“She’s out of your league, Eddie.”

“What?” Eddie kept looking straight at your retreating form, saw you take the house key out of your jacket pocket and open the front door. He blinked once when you had disappeared, like some spell had just been broken. “I’m allowed to look.”

“Yeah, but not for too long,” Gareth answered. “She’d rip your head off if she knew.”

“I’d probably thank her for it too,” Eddie mused to the sniggering of his friends. “Fuck all of you,” he countered. “We should probably finish this up soon anyway.”

“We were going to, but you were too busy staring at my neighbor’s ass.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you for your contribution, Gareth.” Eddie took a couple of strides back until he had taken up his position in the middle again. “Anyone else got anything to say? No? Then let’s play.”

*****

Most of your evening went by fairly quickly.

You had fixed yourself something to eat (yesterday’s meatloaf with tomato sauce on a piece of bread), watched some tv and promptly switched it off because nothing of interest was on before retreating to your bedroom.

As promised the music next door had stopped about an hour ago and you were currently sitting cross-legged on your bed, absentmindedly leafing through an old magazine as you listened to music.

“Sorry I’m late.”

There had been a time where the sudden voice through your open window might have scared the shit out of you, but this had been going on for so long that you didn’t even bat an eyelid anymore.

Looking up from an article that wasn’t holding your attention, you watched as a scuffed white sneaker appeared, shortly followed by one black trouser leg as more of your visitor became visible. Eventually his head came into view, his lips flashing you his customary grin.

“How much longer are you going to do this?“

“Do what?” Eddie closed the curtains behind him so no one would even know that he was in your bedroom at all. “What did I do?”

“This.” You gestured from yourself to him with a hand, but he just stared at you and waited for you to elaborate. “U- This.” You corrected yourself before you could utter what you had initially wanted to say. “This thing. You sneaking into my house like some creep after band practice.”

“You think I’m a creep?”

“What? No!” When he started laughing, you threw the magazine in front of you at his head. Sadly, he dodged it. “This isn’t funny, Eddie.”

“I thought that it was.” He walked up to the bed and sat down next to you. “What do you want this to be?” You turned your head away, determined not to look at him. “Oh, come on.” Eddie threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you against him. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

“Must be that shitty music that you like listening to.” He pointed at the cover of Echo & the Bunnymen’s Ocean Rain that was propped up against a stack of books, next to your brother’s old record player. “It’s messing with your brain.”

“Fuck you.”

“Such a foul mouth, too.” He poked a finger into your cheek to make you smile. It only half worked. “You know you’re my girl, right?”

“Oh? Since when?”

“Dunno.” He leaned in to kiss your temple briefly. “A while.”

“Yet you don’t want anyone to know about it.”

It was a subject that you thought about often. Your relationship, if it could even be called that, was still relatively new, but it wasn’t something that you or Eddie had shared with your friends yet.

“I never said-“

“Did you tell anyone?” You spoke over him quickly, not granting him the time to explain himself to you, which was quite possibly unfair on your behalf, but you had to get this off of your chest. “Hm?”

He bit his lower lip and replied by saying, “No.”

“You’ve proven my point then.”

“Aw, baby.” He pressed closer into your side and you felt his fingers moving up and down your arm. “Let me make it up to you.”

“I’ve got homework.”

“I know that you usually finish that shit about an hour before school.”

“I need to study,” you blurted out quickly, the first alternative that you could come up with.

“Really? You think that crap works on me?”

Eddie knew exactly what you always did when you had a test.

You would half heartedly read the textbooks the evening before. You’d repeat that the morning of said test, but in a slightly more stressed manner because you “hadn’t studied” and then you’d still get good grades regardless of your horrible study routine.

“Fuck,” you said under your breath.

“Now?”

“Shut up.” You shoved at his side with a laugh, but he grabbed your hand so he could twine his fingers through yours. “Why don’t you want anyone to know?”

“Fuck’s sake.” He fell back on your bed and pulled you along with him. “I’m used to all the shit that they throw at me, but I don’t want you to be subjected to it.”

“This is my last year. I don’t care about that shit.”

“You should.”

“Well, I don’t.”

It wasn’t that you wanted to do the boyfriend-girlfriend stuff like walking around school holding hands or making out next to the lockers, but you’d at least like to be able to tell someone that you were seeing Eddie.

That wasn’t too much to ask now, was it?

“Why is this a problem?” he asked you suddenly. “Thought we were having fun.”

“We are. I just want to tell somebody, Eddie. Just one person.”

“Who?”

A frown appeared on your brow since you hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead, but when you thought about it for a bit, the answer was pretty obvious.

“Gareth.”

You had lived next door to Gareth for as long as you could remember. He idolized your older brother until he went to college a couple of years ago and left the town of Hawkins behind him completely in favor of the big city.

Eddie had been the one that had filled the void that your brother had left behind for Gareth in a way.

Everyone in town knew about Eddie Munson. The long hair, leather jacket and devil may care attitude hadn’t exactly worked in his favor. Add to that the fact that he was running the Hellfire Club, which was nothing more than a bunch of nerds playing D&D, and more people became convinced that he was the leader of some kind of cult.

An admittedly small one, but everyone had to start somewhere. That was the way a lot of the residents of Hawkins seemed to look at him.

The real Eddie was almost disappointingly average in comparison to whatever outlandish ideas other people had about him.

He wasn’t exactly sacrificing animals to the Devil in his off-time (chances were that he would be completely unable to hurt any animal), but when you had once told him that people thought that he did that, he was mightily impressed. His smile had grown and he had simply asked “Really?” You swore that he was seconds away from dancing on the spot over his infamy.

The only thing that he did that was against the law was sell drugs. That was about it.

The rest of his time was filled with planning D&D campaigns, playing guitar and getting high. Sometimes he’d even do all of those things at once.

But no, Eddie Munson was not a cult leader that made his loyal subjects sacrifice innocent virgins in the woods. Just an all round nice guy that had hobbies that made him stand out like a sore thumb in a small town like Hawkins.

He was also the one who had been sneaking into your bedroom for the last couple of weeks.

“Gareth?” You nodded enthusiastically in reply. “Why him?”

Because I’ve known him all my life, you thought to yourself. Because he’s like a brother to me and he’d be supportive of us getting together.

Given enough time, you would have been able to come up with loads of reasons as to why Gareth should be the first one to know.

“Because.”

Shame that your brain decided to blurt out only one word however.

Eddie snorted with laughter and squeezed your side. “Why are you like this again?”

“Maybe you should have asked yourself that question before you kissed me.”

“Should have.”

Even if you couldn’t see his face from your current position, you just knew that he was smiling. Both of you still remembered what had happened on that particular evening as if it had happened only yesterday…

*****

It had been a fairly normal evening.

On your way back home from the cinema, you had been a little bit too engrossed with thinking that you definitely would have picked Duckie over Blane at the time. So you had not noticed that Eddie’s van was still parked in front of Gareth’s house. It was pretty damn hard to miss, but you hadn't noticed that it was there until you were about to pass by Gareth's front door. You actually ended up being slightly startled when the door opened and Eddie happened to step outside into the night.

Your eyes met the same way that they did in those cheesy romance movies that you liked, and you swore that in your head you could hear the swell of music that picked up as you watched him light a cigarette right before he started walking in your direction.

Looking down at your feet suddenly, you started to walk again, but when you almost tripped, Eddie called out to you to ask if you were alright.

“Yeah sure,” you replied with a nervous laugh. “My shoelace got untied, that’s all.”

His big brown eyes went down to your feet and when you saw him grin, you looked down as well… only to realize that you were wearing a pair of slip-on sneakers… that didn't have shoelaces.

“Let me walk you home.”

“I live right next door.”

“So?" he said with a casual shrug. "We’ll walk slowly.”

And you did.

Your heart was in your throat as you attempted to make small talk and you got the distinct impression that Eddie was simply humoring you, but he still replied to every dumb question that you shot his way. Part of you hoped that he wouldn’t notice why you kept blurting out every inane thing that came to mind.

After all, no one knew about your little crush on him.

You had long since considered it doomed to never go anywhere and had begrudgingly accepted it. And it wasn’t like you had any contact with Eddie anyway.

Sure, you had a couple of classes together and he regularly hung out in the house next door, but that was it.

He would never find out.

“So,” you began as you reached the corner of your house. “This is me. I mean, my house. So you know, thanks? I guess?”

“No problem,” he said with a grin. “Didn’t want you to fall over and hurt yourself.”

“I would have been fine! Honest!” You pulled on your sweater, rubbing the fabric together in your hands nervously. Then you blurted out, “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Eddie took one final drag of his cigarette and flicked it away into the darkness. You watched him produce a packet of gum from his jacket pocket and take one for himself before offering it to you. When you shook your head, he shrugged and put it away again.

“Wait. Forgot something.”

“What did y-“

You never got a chance to finish your sentence, because the next thing you knew Eddie had cupped your face and had pressed his lips down on yours. He tasted like cigarettes and cinnamon gum. Your hands quickly found the back of his head, your fingers pulling on his long strands as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

It might have quite possibly been the best night of your life at the time, but Eddie kept finding ways afterwards to make every single other evening that you spent in his company even better.

*****

Eddie had blamed his sudden actions on being high and simply “going for it” later, but after that one night, it had turned into a fairly regular occurrence. Though every other kiss or touch had always been preceded by a question.

Can I kiss you?

Can I touch you?

Mind if I…? while he pointedly looked at the hem of the old shirt that you’d been wearing at the time.

Can I please touch your tits?

It was nice. Being asked for permission. Eddie never mentioned his parents so you had no idea how much of a fixture they had been in his life, but his uncle had tried to bring him up right, that much was obvious.

When you really thought about it, it made you laugh sometimes.

How almost everyone in town seemed to have decided that Eddie Munson was the Devil in disguise, yet he would be in your bed and asking you for permission to eat you out because he didn’t want you to feel like you had no say in the matter. Because he didn’t want to presume that you’d be as into it as he was.

Didn’t matter if you were half naked and gagging for it.

He still asked.

Whenever he’d been over at Gareth’s place, he would always end up at yours afterwards. One evening he had just sort of appeared in your bedroom (for which he had apologized profusely) and it had steadily progressed from there. He was over so frequently that you left the window open just so he could get into your bedroom whenever he felt like it.

Your mom usually worked until it was pretty late so there wasn’t any danger of her finding out that you had a gentleman caller over pretty much every single evening.

“When’s your mom coming home?”

“Not for a while,” you answered. He rolled you over onto your back and got on top of you. Your thighs fell open so he could nestle his hips between them. “You know that.”

“Just checking.”

“Just in case?”

“Hmm.” His hands slid underneath your shirt so he could palm your breasts. “Don’t want her to catch us in a compromising position.”

“Big word.”

“I’m not just a pretty face.” He flashed you an amused grin and then squeezed your tits once. “I know some big words.”

“Do you now?” His fingers teased your nipples into peaks with a practiced ease and you could see him open his mouth again, getting ready to speak. “Don’t.” You pressed your index finger against his lips. “Please don’t tell me all the big words that you know.”

“Just wanted to impress my girl.”

“I’m already impressed.” You could see the corners of his mouth curl up into a self-satisfied smirk. “Don’t get too full of yourself.”

Before he could think up a witty comeback, you curled your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss to shut him up. He hummed against your mouth, trying to make it seem like he still had plenty to say, even though he was properly distracted now.

He pushed your shirt up and the cups of your bra followed shortly after. You moaned against his lips when he pinched your aching nipples lightly.

“Baby.” Eddie pulled away slightly so he could press his forehead against yours. “What did I tell you about making noises like that?”

“That I shouldn’t?” He chuckled in reply and shook his head. “That you hate it?” He did the same thing as before and waited for you to try again. “Oh yeah, now I remember. It makes you hard.”

“You know it.” He ground his hips against yours so you could feel his erection pressing against you through his jeans. You moaned a little louder this time, just to torture the poor guy a bit more. “Such a fucking tease.”

“A little bit.” When he rolled his hips against yours again, you tilted yours up to meet him. “That feels so good,” you breathed against his lips.

“Know what would feel even better?”

“Why don’t you show me?”

“Deal.”

There was a sudden shift as he practically leapt off the bed and pulled on your clothes, a quick flurry of activity, until you were wearing nothing but your panties. You leaned back on your arms and pressed your thighs together, trying to position yourself in a way that looked alluring and sexy.

“Fuck, baby,” he said in a low voice that was drenched with arousal. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Seconds later, his denim vest and leather jacket hit the floor and he sat down next to you again. Even though he didn’t need to, he still patted his lap with his hand, silently telling you where he wanted you to sit.

Swinging a leg over him, you straddled his lap, making sure to grind your hips against his, adding enough pressure so that his growing bulge provided enough friction. Yet again, you let out an unnecessarily loud moan and you heard him inhale in a sharp intake of air through his teeth.

“Don’t.” One of his hands connected with your ass, which only made you rise up from his lap so that your tits were now level with his face. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Eddie buried his face between your tits, his lips and tongue everywhere, because he didn’t know what to focus on, as usual, but naturally you weren’t complaining. He sucked on your skin underneath one of your nipples, leaving a hickey in a place that was for his eyes only.

Wrapping his arms around your back suddenly, he pulled you back with him as he lay down. You managed to bring your hands up just in time, planting them next to his head, so you could hover over him.

“I’ll just-“ He chuckled suddenly and lay back. “Don’t move.” You waited for him to make a move, but he didn’t. When you looked at him quizzically, he admitted, “Just admiring the view.”

“So that’s what you were doing.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Wait.” When his arm moved, you pulled back suddenly and he groaned in disappointment, but you merely laughed when you heard it. “Don’t worry. You’ll love this.”

Getting off the bed completely, you walked over to your record player, removed the record that was currently playing and grabbed a new one.

Juju by Siouxsie and the Banshees.

Even though Eddie had claimed many times that he couldn’t stand them, you’d also seen his leg bounce whenever you were playing this particular record, so you knew that he appreciated this one at least.

As soon as the first song started, he laughed and shook his head. He probably would have voiced his dislike for them yet again, but his eyes grew big when you started moving your hips from side to side in time with the music.

“I love this song,” you said as Spellbound played in the background.

“I know you do.” He looked up at you eagerly when you were standing in front of him again, wondering what you had planned. “Still don’t know what you’re planning to do, but I’m not complaining.”

“I was just about to get started.” You tapped his knee with your hand and said, “Move back a little.”

Eddie kicked his sneakers off and moved back on the bed, his eyes never leaving you for one second. He positioned himself against the headboard with your pillow against his back. He looked so damn comfortable that you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling.

“You joining me?” He patted his lap once more to tell you exactly where he wanted you. “Or are you just going to stand there?”

Not needing to be asked that twice, you got on the bed and crawled over to where he was sitting. When you were close enough, he reached out and snapped the elastic of your panties playfully, making it obvious that he’d rather see them removed.

“Not yet,” you chided, but you didn’t sound particularly convincing. Truth be told, you would have much rather taken them off as well, but you wanted to make him work for it a little first.

Straddling his lap once more, his hand tried to move up your side, his fingers lightly tickling, but you brushed his hand away immediately. Not being easily deterred, he tried again, but you grabbed it and moved it until it was resting on your hip, a move that you mirrored with his other hand.

“What do you have planned, huh?”

“You’ll see,” you replied with a wink. “Now don’t move your hands.” He didn’t reply, so you repeated yourself a bit more sternly. “Eddie. Keep them there.”

“Okay, okay.” He briefly released you and slapped your hips once for emphasis. “Like that?”

“Just like that.” You leaned forward, ghosted your lips over his and murmured, “Good boy.”

Hearing him groan in response over being called that, you made a vow to yourself to remember his response. You would definitely be using that one again.

Moving your hands up, you started by running your fingers through your hair. You started grinding your hips against his and set a slow, torturous pace.

When you looked at his face, it was plain to see that he was already struggling. His pupils were blown out and his lips parted whenever you dragged your pelvis over the front of his jeans. You really tried to get as much friction out of this as was humanly possible, which wasn’t exactly helping his current predicament. His fingers wouldn’t stop twitching, digging into your skin a little bit harder with each passing second.

His curiosity over what you were going to do next won out over his deep desire of throwing you on your back on the mattress and fucking your brains out.

You slid your fingers from your scalp down your jaw to your chin and then back up to your cheeks. Circling the tips of your fingers over your flushed skin once, they followed the path down again. The pads dragged down your neck briefly and then your mouth turned upward into a teasing smirk.

Eddie never saw it coming.

One hand clamped down on his shoulder suddenly and his eyes darted from that hand back to the one that was currently covering your mouth. You muffled an exaggerated moan which made him laugh softly at first, but he was silenced over what you did next. His focus was on your index finger, which was following the outline of your lips, only to watch the digit slip past your lips and into your mouth.

Swallowing hard, his eyes wouldn’t stop following your finger.

In, out. In, out.

You sighed deeply, momentarily squeezed your eyes shut, trying to make your features look as blissed out as you could. Your hips trembled when you found a particularly good angle and it temporarily made colors explode behind your eyelids.

“Baby.” Your eyes snapped open because your pet name came out of his throat sounding all strangled. His pupils were even more dilated than before, the warm browns of his irises almost entirely gone now. “I don’t think that I can han-“

Two fingers slid into your mouth when he tried to talk and Eddie swallowed his words immediately. You hummed loudly and slid them in deeper still, until you were starting to gag. You made absolutely sure that he heard that, for he had once confessed that hearing you choke was one of the hottest things ever, especially when you had his dick stuffed down your throat. Apparently it was a struggle for him every single time that it happened, because he always wanted to grab your face and fuck up into your warm mouth.

"But, you know," he had added with a grin at the time. "Don't want you to actually choke on it."

There was no danger of him pushing himself in deeper this time. This was all you and you could control it quite easily. You repeated it a few times, hitting the back of your tongue with the pads of your fingers each time until you gagged, giving yourself a moment of reprieve and then starting all over again.

All the while, Eddie's breathing grew more labored. Poor guy looked like he was in danger of fainting if you kept this up so a moment's pause was probably in order.

"You okay?" Your grin was quite possibly a little bit too wide, but everything about Eddie's features right now was a little bit too amusing to you. His cheeks had begun to color and a thin sheen of sweat was covering his brow, hinting at his discomfort. "You want me to stop?"

"No." He answered you quickly and you weren't sure if he wanted to prove that he could take whatever you could throw at him or if something else was at play here. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. Looks like you're in trouble."

"Not." He choked out the word at first and cleared his throat so he could repeat himself in clearer terms. "Not in trouble. Fine. 'M fine."

"Such a good boy," you said in a singsong voice. "Still not letting you touch me though. But." Leaning forward, you decided that you could reward his patience in a different way. "How about a kiss instead?"

Tilting his chin up, Eddie caught your lips with his and gave you a hungry kiss. You moved your hand from his shoulder to the back of his head, to keep him there even if he wasn't pulling away, threading your fingers through his long hair.

“Why are you so fucking hot?” The question was murmured against your lips and he managed to sound genuinely bemused, too. “Hm? I can’t get enough of you.”

“Lucky me,” you reply. “But you’ll get sick of me eventually.”

“Never.” His hands tightened on your hips and then he forced you to move again, making you rub your dripping panties all over his still clothed erection. “That’s never gonna happen, baby.”

“If it’s never gonna happen, can I tell someone that we’re seeing each other?” You pulled away so you could look at him directly in his beautiful brown eyes. You tilted your head to the side questioningly, eyebrows raised as you continued. “You can’t keep hiding me forever.”

“Is that what this is about?” His hands stilled their movements completely and you let out a disappointed whine. “We’ll graduate soon. Can’t you just-“

“I’ll graduate,” you interrupted. “I don’t fancy your chances.”

“Now that was uncalled for.” One of his hands moved to your ass so he could pinch your pliant flesh in retaliation. “This is my year.”

“Is it?”

“I got you this time, ain’t I?” Eddie said with a wink. “You’re my lucky charm.”

“A lucky charm that you want to keep to yourself.” You pouted your lips in the same manner as a disappointed child might have done. “Who cares what anyone else thinks anyway?”

“You shouldn’t have to-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” You enunciated every single word clearly, in another effort to make it obvious that it was not a problem for you. “My friends wouldn’t care. Your friends wouldn’t care either.”

“Do we have to have this conversation now?”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t get it, that’s all.” You shook your head and settled your hands on your stomach. You weren't sure if Eddie was buying your sudden change of heart, so you threw in a quick, “I wanna make it up to you.”

You’d get him to change his mind about this, if it was the last thing you did. You just needed to push him a little harder.

“Still not done with the foreplay then?”

“Nope.” You popped the 'p' for emphasis and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “So just sit back and enjoy.”

“Just don’t take too long, okay?”

“I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.”

Sliding your hands up, you cupped your breasts from below, moving them up until the palms of your hands were hiding your nipples from view. It got Eddie to stop looking at your face for a bit, all his attention now directed at your chest.

With a deep sigh, you started playing with your tits. Your hands squeezed and massaged while your fingers plucked, pinched, stroked and twisted. There was no telling how long you kept it up, but you were enjoying yourself to Eddie’s detriment.

“You gotta let me touch you, babe,” he eventually managed to say. “Please.”

“No.” Your reply was concise. You didn’t need to waste more words on it.

One hand left your chest and slid down your stomach, your fingers eventually dipping underneath the elastic waistband of your panties. Pushing yourself up on your knees, you tried to get better access and slid a single finger through your folds.

“God, Eddie,” you groaned loudly as you added another finger. “I’m soaked.”

If the music hadn’t been playing, he would have been able to hear exactly how wet you were, but Siouxsie Sioux was drowning out the sounds. You vaguely registered that Arabian Knights was currently playing, but the only thing that was on your mind was what you were doing right now and how Eddie was gripping you so tightly that you’d surely have bruises in the morning.

It was like a constant reminder that he was still there, even though you could never forget about him. You were impressed that he was even sticking to the rule that you had set and felt that a reward for his obedience was in order.

Removing your hand from your panties, you held up two fingers that were glistening with your juices. “Open wide.”

There was no hesitation on his behalf.

Doing as he was told, Eddie opened his mouth and you pressed your fingers inside. His lips closed around your digits and his tongue swirled around them, trying to suck every single drop from your skin.

You had been squeezing your breast with your other hand, but it snaked down your body quickly to replace the fingers that were now in Eddie’s possession.

“Fuck,” you moaned out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You plunged two fingers into yourself easily, pushing them in as deep as you could. “Eddie.” You keened out his name, your pitch going up when you hit the last two vowels. “Feels so good.”

His hands slid up your waist, but you were too far gone to tell him to keep them stationary. His thumbs were pressing into the swell of your breasts and he kept them there. At least he still remembered your dumb stipulation.

He released your fingers with a pop and muttered. “Babe. Please-“

“N-no.” You still had enough control over yourself to tell him not to, but you were sure hoping that he’d just read all the damn signs and go for it anyway. You knew that he wouldn’t, but still. “Not u-until I-“

“Not until what?” Eddie was slack jawed as he watched your hips twitch against your hand, one of those tell-tale signs that you were close. “Talk to me.”

“Can’t,” you gasped out. “I’m too-“

“Too what?” You were convinced that he was teasing you now, because there was no other explanation as to why he kept dragging you back from the brink, as payback for not letting him grab your tits or replace your fingers with his own. “You close, baby?“

“Yeah.” You were seconds away from sobbing. The white hot heat was steadily building, ready to explode any second now, and incinerate you completely. “So fucking close.”

Rolling your head forward, you pressed your forehead against his, only barely managing to keep your eyes open so he could see them glaze over the exact moment that you reached your peak.

You managed to choke out the first syllable of his name before you were silenced.

Eddie grabbed the back of your head, closed the distance and smashed his lips into yours as you climaxed. He swallowed up every single one of your moans hungrily, as if they belonged to him and only him.

Your moans and cries were muffled and he allowed you brief moments of respite, the ability to take deep breaths of air into your burning lungs. Your vision was swimming, filled with tears, and you were practically screaming into his mouth over the intensity of your orgasm.

Every muscle in your body eventually went limp, your fingers still pressed against your throbbing pussy, covered in your arousal.

Eddie was the one that peeled your hand away and let you sag against his chest as you tried to catch your breath. He brought your hand up to his mouth and hummed against your fingers as he licked them clean.

“That was so fucking hot,” he husked out against the top of your head. “I’ll do whatever you want. Ask me now. I’ll agree to anything.”

“Y-you know what I-“

“Yes.” The word was out of his mouth before you could finish your sentence. “Yes,” he repeated again. “Whatever you want.”

“Thank you.” The corners of your mouth curled up into a smile and then you added, “You can fuck me now.”

“Thought you’d never let me.”

Mere seconds later, you found yourself on your back staring up at the ceiling with Eddie on his knees between your open thighs. He yanked his shirt up over his head so quickly that you had been surprised that you hadn’t heard the fabric tear.

Pushing yourself up into a sitting position, you started helping him undo his belt buckle and then pulled his jeans open. One of his hands disappeared into his back pocket as he dug out his wallet. When your hand disappeared underneath the waistline of his boxers, Eddie hissed through his teeth.

“Ah, fuck.” His hips pushed forward into your hand when you wrapped your fingers around his length. “Keep doing that.”

“I wasn’t going to stop.”

“I know,” he replied with a groan. “I know.”

For a second there, you considered pulling his cock out of his pants entirely so you could suck on it, but when you heard him swear under his breath, your reverie was suddenly broken.

“What?”

“I don’t- fucking shit.” He was still going through his wallet, searching for something, before he put it back in his pocket with a look of defeat on his face. “Out of rubbers.”

Now you understood why he was so disappointed. He knew that you didn’t have any condoms, because you constantly feared that your parents would find them. Trying to convince them that you needed to be on the pill to regulate your cycle had been a huge hassle already so if they found condoms in your bedroom?

Your parents would have grounded you for life.

“It’s okay.” You never once removed your hand from his boxers. If anything, you only sped up your movements. “How about… you come on me instead.”

Eddie’s head snapped up immediately. “The fuck,” he muttered. “Are you serious?“

“Dead serious.”

“Where?” His eyes were already focused on your chest, unwittingly answering his own question, so you pushed your tits together for him. “Fuck. Really?”

“Really.” You bit your lower lip playfully and looked to the side. “Unless, you know, you don’t want to…”

“Fuck, baby. I want to so bad.” He grabbed your face between both hands and gave you a forceful kiss. “Damn, that’s so fucking hot.”

Poking a finger into one of his dimples, you cracked a smile and asked, “Is it?”

“Fuck yeah.” Pushing you back down on the bed again, he got on top of you and hovered over you so he could stare at you. “How’d I get this lucky again?”

“Well, it’s easy really,” you said with a grin as you tapped the tip of his nose with your index finger. “You were high as fuck when you walked me all the way back to my front door a couple of weeks ago.”

“I was not ‘high as fuck’.”

“High as fuck,” you repeated. “Then you made out with me right before leaving and here we are.”

“Here we are.” He repeated your words now and a satisfied smile was tugging on his lips. “I also remember telling you that I thought that you were hot.”

“Oh yeah, you admitted to having a crush on me,” you giggled. “It’s okay though cause I had one too.”

“So you told me.” He rolled his hips against yours, nice and slow, which earned him a moan in reply. “What started it again?”

“Your ass in those tight jeans.”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “Never knew that it worked for anyone.”

“Trust me, it fucking works.” Pushing yourself up a little, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and gave a gentle tug. “But how about you stop the small talk and fuck me already, huh?”

“Alright, alright.” Eddie sat back and tugged your panties off. Then he pushed his jeans and boxers down just far enough for his cock to spring free. “You in a hurry or something?”

“Kinda,” you replied. You gasped when he reached down to rub his fingers over your wet pussy. “Not like you can spend the night, doofus.”

“Well shit,” he joked back. “I thought for sure that this night-“

“My mother would have a goddamn heart attack if she found you in my room.” Eddie positioned himself in front of your entrance and you could feel the head of his cock pressing against you. It didn’t help much that he didn’t appear to be moving. “What are you waiting for?”

“I just-“

“Eddie.”

“Christ, fine.” He tried to sound annoyed with your impatience, but he didn’t quite manage to make it sound convincing. “I kinda wanted to-“

Raising your leg, you pressed the heel of your foot into his ass. Thankfully that had the desired effect.

Finally pushing his hips forward, he slid into you, a gentle push until he was sheathed inside of you all the way. He waited a moment, to let you get used to him, like he always did, before he started moving in earnest.

One hand was placed next to your head to hold himself up while the other gripped your hip tightly. His thrusts were deep and firm, your bodies undulating together, perfectly in sync.

That was only part of it though.

For throughout it all, Eddie kept holding your gaze, his chocolate brown eyes peering deeply into yours. Always silently demanding that you keep looking straight at him as well, always wanting to see the exact moment when you came apart at the seams.

“Eddie…”

“I know,” he groaned back. “Feels good, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” You grabbed onto his shoulders when he started pounding into you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, your thighs gripping him tightly. “Real good.”

“You feel good around me too.” The sound of skin against skin started reverberating through the room, interspersed with grunts and moans. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“I’m so close…”

“I can tell.” Eddie’s breath was hot against your face and his long hair was clinging to your face in places. “I can fucking feel you.” You mewled his name which made him drop his forehead against yours and say, “Come for me, baby.”

That was what did it.

His voice, laced with desire, sent you careening into another orgasm. You clutched him tight, your fingernails creating red marks on his shoulder blades as they dug into his skin.

Eddie kept thrusting into you through the height of your climax, but his smooth strokes soon became sloppy and uneven. He swore under his breath, stringing all kinds of expletives together the closer he got to the edge. At the last minute, he pulled out hurriedly and unloaded himself all over your stomach with a roar.

Letting out a breathless growl, he collapsed on the bed next to you. His breathing was heavy, the high of the moment fading quickly.

“You missed.”

“What?” Eddie turned his head and looked at the streaks of his cum on your stomach. None of them had managed to hit your chest. “Next time?”

“Sure thing,” you replied with a giggle. “There’s just something else that we need to do first.”

“I’ll clean you up in a minute, baby.” His hand connected with your shoulder and he gave you a comforting squeeze. “Just let me catch my breath first.“

“That’s not what I was talking about.” Eddie raised his eyebrows in reply, not sure what you were talking about. Since he was looking adorably confused, you added, “Gareth?”

“What about him?”

“What about-“ You let out an annoyed sigh. “You promised.”

“Oh.” It finally dawned on him what you meant. “Do we have to do that now?”

“Yes. He’s probably still awake anyway.” Your fist connected with Eddie’s arm, giving him a playful nudge. “I’m not going to give you a chance to chicken out of this.”

“I wasn’t. Just figured we could tell him tomorrow.”

“Nope. We’re doing this tonight.”

"Okay, I give. Just give me a moment." His gaze turned almost surprisingly loving then, a warm smile lighting up his face. “You are such a piece of work."

“And you love me for it.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #mar writes #mar moodboards #eddie munson smut

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cynamonowo · 2 years

Note

60 for aitsf? maybe with date and mizuki but i'm happy with anything that strikes your fancy :-)

ough it took a while but. here we go besties i ended up making this a sort of a sequel to a certain fic of mine i posted in november ;3 hope ya enjoy (endgame spoilers)

60. “Happy birthday.”

***

Whenever Mizuki would stop by Marble, either to chat with Mama or pick up Date, she’d find the place to be a time capsule. Always the same music, the same decor. The cloying scent of Mama’s perfumes and alcohol, drilling itself into her nostrils, the cigarette smoke soaking into her clothes, rows and rows of bottles with loud labels. She sits by the bar, crossing her legs and demurely lying her hands on the counter.

“Ah, Miss Mizuki!” Appearing from the backroom, Mama beams at her, clasping her palms together. “It’s been a while!”

Mizuki laughs awkwardly. “Good evening, Mama. It’s nice to see you.”

“Such a polite young woman, you. You must be, ah, twenty now, right? My, haven’t you grown… Makes a woman like me feel old.”

“Uh, yeah, I actually turn twenty in-” she checks her watch “-ten minutes?”

Clicking her tongue, Mama shakes her head. “And you’re not out there partying with your friends instead of coming by here?”

“Actually,” Mizuki says, scratching her nose, “I’m here to meet with Date.”

"Oh, yes, he did mention you've left the nest! How the time passes…"

She moved out a few months ago, staying at the dorms close by the campus, nominally to shorten the drive there - but mostly because of his insisting they can’t be living while attached at the hip. She can tell it was his therapist’s suggestion, though, and quietly disagrees. Her roommates are okay, they don’t bother her too much, but - no one steals her pudding. No one talks to themself for hours on end. She shouldn’t miss it. She does.

Her own therapist says she doesn’t do well with change - what a surprise. After the events of eight years ago and the ensuing pandemic-caused two years of basically not leaving the house, Mizuki finds herself, paradoxically, longing for the tableau of every day being the same. No surprises. No changes. Waking up, school, therapy, spending time with Date, going to sleep. Ordering groceries online, cooking the same things every week, not having to deal with stores full of bright lights and loud advertisements, people bumping into her as they mill around. The first few times they left the house after lockdown, either she had a meltdown or Date would get that empty look on his face when stuff got overwhelming; he couldn’t speak more than three words at a time for hours. Despite being a teenager, she would hold onto his hand or clothes, his gaze constantly flicking to her with worry. Once, his concern would annoy her. Then - it was normal. It was their normal, pieced together from the fragments after the storm. Who cares if it wasn’t too healthy? It was ugly and patchy and theirs. It was paid for in blood and death.

Well. At least she no longer wishes it was her death. That’s progress.

“Oh, he hasn’t been here for a few weeks now,” Mama says, unaware of the turmoil inside Mizuki’s head. “Such a shame, but I’m not too surprised.”

“Mm?”

“What happened with Ren, Shoko, and the others…” Mama’s expression grows more serious. “I still can’t believe his own boss would do that! I met her, you know? She seemed like such a sweet woman who cared so deeply about Date, yet she went and did this! And your parents, Mizuki! How could someone do that?!”

Biting her tongue, Mizuki nods. It’s okay. Mama doesn’t know the truth. Only four people in the entire world know. Saito’s dead anyway. It’s over. It’s been over for almost a decade now. Her hands curl, nails digging into the soft flesh.

“I know,” she says, quiet, hoarse. Mama pats her on the wrist, then turns to the entrance as the door opens.

“Oh hello honey!”

“Hi, Mama, hi, Mizuki.” Taking a seat by her side, Date pulls her for a quick side-hug. “Nice haircut.”

Grinning, Mizuki rubs the shaved part of her head. “You could take a page out of my book, y’know?”

“Are we having this conversation again?” Date sighs.

“You do look quite girlish, sweetheart,” Mama chimes in, innocent. Mizuki reaches to tug on Date’s hair, today kept under control in a messy braid. During the lockdown, both of them stopped caring about their appearances, and it seems a part of that mindset still remains with him, considering he has let his hair grow out again. It’s likely he’ll chop it off one day with kitchen shears whenever he gets pissy about washing it again. What a nerd.

Mizuki sobers a little. The aftermath of Saito’s string of murders was tough on everyone involved, the quarantine not helping in the slightest. She’d have nightmares every other day, ones that would yank her out of sleep and have her throw up on the floor. Seeing raw meat would cause her hands to tremble. All of her classmates slowly grew distant, first offering insipid condolences, then ghosting her on NILE after graduation. In middle school, the online classes prevented them from forming closer bonds, even after they met up in person. Not like Mizuki was going out of her way to befriend them, preferring to sit by herself with a book. High school was much the same - no clubs, no extra activities, blowing off anyone who tried to chat with her. She’d come home right after classes and hang out with Date, watching TV or playing video games. With So Sejima’s money inherited, he quit his job at the MPD after a year of medical leave. Her skin crawls when she remembers the reason, the blood on the bathroom tiles, the thick scars running up the inside of his forearms, how his voice cracked when he told her the deaths were his fault. The lines of pill bottles, reminders on her phone for both of them to take their meds. Therapy has helped, yeah, but till she moved out, they’d spend a lot of time glued to each other’s side, Mizuki’s head on Date’s shoulder, his arm around her, spending the anniversaries cuddled on the couch, eating shitty junk food and barely talking. Once, Pewter came by, after he took over ABIS, and he and Date had a quiet conversation, one Mizuki did not even try to eavesdrop on. The floor by the trashcan ended up littered with empty beer bottles, Pewter sleeping over on a pullout mattress, thanking Date in the morning, giving Mizuki a faint smile. The only survivors. Each day a fight, more or less exhausting. And this is her victory. This is the sliver of life she carved out of this wrong end of the tunnel.

She checks her phone. Seven more minutes. Leaning against Date, she passively listens to his chat with Mama, puns, innuendo, et cetera. This time, it doesn’t seem like he has no heart for it. Good. She’s happy for him, even though the jokes are disgusting.

When there’s a pause, she horns in. “By the way, why did you want to meet with me here?”

“You really don’t know?” Date gives her a look. “Kid, your first drink should be under adult supervision.”

“So… you told me to come to Marble just before midnight, just because you want to have a drink with me.” Mizuki wrinkles her nose. “That’s so on brand, dude.”

"And yet you're still here," he points out. "C'mon, don't say you're going to bail on me."

"Can't have Mama dealing with your crap by herself." She sighs. In a more joking tone, she adds, "At least say you've got me a nice gift, old man."

"Hey, I'm not even forty, that's not old," Date bites back, but as soon as the words leave his mouth his expression sours. Right. Were he in the original body, he'd be around fifty, right? Mizuki brushes her fingertips over his wrist; he looks away, grimacing. Mama gazes at them, thick brows furrowing, before flapping her hand, clearly unwilling to know more than she needs to.

"Mizuki, honey, in this case let me know what sort of drink you want to take your alcohol virginity," she drawls out, salacious.

"How vulgar," Date says to himself. Mama rolls her eyes.

"She's almost twenty! She can handle such talk!"

"Still. Gross. That's my daughter you're talking about." Shaking his head, he leans back in his chair. "There's still six minutes left till she's officially an adult, so for now give us two waters, Mama."

"Still a stickler for rules," Mama says wistfully but does as asked. When she hands Mizuki her glass, she says conspiratorially, her voice a theatrical whisper, "Don't worry about him, sweetie, I gave you some vodka."

"Liar," Date murmurs as Mizuki sniffs the clear liquid. "I may not be a cop anymore, but you're still not going to risk losing your license."

He's right. It is just water. Mizuki giggles into her hand, and Date throws her the told-you-so glance. She elbows him, and he smirks before passing her an earpiece. The door opens to let in another client, Mama instantly moving to tend to him. The earbud in, Mizuki rests her cheek on her hand to muffle her voice, Date mirroring her.

"Good evening, Mizuki," Aiba says. "I would wish you a happy birthday but we still have a few minutes to go."

"Hi, Aiba," Mizuki murmurs, unable to hide her grin. "How are you doing? Date not pissing you off too bad?"

"I'm still here, y'know," Date mutters with a pout. Mizuki throws him her brattiest eye roll.

"I'm talking to Aiba, dummy. Don't interrupt."

"Hey, she's in my skull, how do you expect me to tune you two out?"

Despite no longer being an ABIS agent, he got to keep Aiba after a lot of whining on all sides. After she refused to work with another cop and Pewter got very offended at the idea of reprogramming her to remedy that, Aiba was officially classified as a disability aid so Date could have her. Mizuki is pretty sure there was some bribery involved, but does not ask. With how much money So left him, Date has replaced his audio system and sofa (what a dork) before donating a good chunk to charity. So must be rolling in his grave.

Well. In Iris's grave. The body they buried in pouring November rain was inhabited by Boss, if only for a few minutes. In her body was Saito. In Daddy's, Iris. And Mom was dead for a year without anyone knowing. Mizuki did not suspect a thing, with Mom acting just as usual, cold and distant, complaining about her daughter's appearance and behavior dripping down her tongue like blood. She never smiled. She also never hit her the few times she and Mizuki saw each other. Granted, Mizuki would have told Date and he'd make good on his threats to report her for child abuse, and that'd ruin Saito's plan. But maybe if he lost control… Maybe if he played his role too well, no one else would have to die. Mizuki would gladly trade a few slaps and pushes and punches for not having to attend a multitude of funerals, not having to find her guardian half dead in their own bathroom, not having to pretend, for years and years, wishing for a different future, cursing herself for being a stupid child, stupid, blind kid who didn't know anything, isn't worth anything-

"Mizuki," Aiba says softly. "Are you alright?"

"You've been staring at nothing for a while now," Date adds, placing his hand on her back. Mizuki meets his eyes and smiles grimly.

"Got lost in thoughts," she says. "It's okay, though."

"Really?"

"Yup. Don't worry, old man." This time, she can muster up a better smile. "It is what it is."

"Hm," Aiba says, clearly not convinced, but doesn't push the matter. "In any case, I hope you are doing well, Mizuki."

She cringes. "Yeah, more or less? Today my roommate woke me up at five in the morning because she started blasting some eighties pop to, uh, get pumped up for the day. I almost had a heart attack."

"At least she has good taste," says Date, and Mizuki makes a face at him, remembering all those days she'd come home from school and find him lying facedown on the floor, listening to disco - which he'd call his "me time". Mizuki thinks he's full of shit.

"If only I wasn't subjected to it before a coffee," she grumbles. "I had, like, three today."

"That's quite a lot," Aiba says. "Please ensure you consume enough magnesium to make up for what the caffeine has washed out of your system."

"Sure, Mom."

"Hey, she's worried," Date says with a pointed look. "Who the hell knows what kind of shit you're gonna pull when unsupervised?"

"Takes one to know one!"

"Like father, like daughter," Aiba adds cheerfully, and Date looks like he's considering violence. Mizuki giggles at him.

"I like to think I'm smarter than him," she says, to Aiba's hum of approval.

"Very much so." With less levity, she says, "Truth of the matter is, both of us quite miss you, Mizuki, although Date will never admit to that."

"Because that's not true?" He doesn't sound convincing in the slightest, and Aiba sighs.

"Aw, I know you love me, old man," Mizuki chirps out.

"Whatever."

"So tsundere." It's easy to imagine Aiba shaking her head. "In any case, there's less than two minutes before midnight."

"Time to say goodbye to teenagehood," Mizuki says, morose. "At least I can drink now."

"Speaking of." Date waves at Mama, beckoning her back to the bar from where she's been flirting with the other customer. She groans but comes back, flashing them a coyish look.

"What can I get you two now?"

"A beer for me," Date orders with confidence, "and something the kid’s gonna like.”

"Hm." Mama peers at Mizuki, calculating. "A cocktail would suit such an inexperienced palate… Perhaps a mojito?"

"Sounds good," Mizuki says with a shrug. "It's kinda like lemonade, right?”

Belying her shape, Mama moves quick and with certainty, mixing the drink with steady hands and a bit of flourish in her pours. A bottle of rum, another of syrup, a mint leaf and a thin slice of lime, cut with one sharp flick of the knife. Mizuki watches with amazement; by the time the two glasses are placed in front of them, Aiba says,

“It’s midnight. Happy birthday, Mizuki.”

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” Date adds, raising his glass with a grin. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

Mizuki shakes her head with exasperation, but as she clinks her glass against his, she can’t help but smile back. “Thanks, old man.” She takes an experimental sip, and her brows jump up in shock. “Whoa.”

“You like it?”

“Mhm! It is kinda like lemonade.” Nice and sour, with a hint of freshness from the mint, something deeper in the background, probably the alcohol. It’s nice. She can understand why Date wanted her to have some. This is kind of - pleasant, drinking with her father, everything making sense now.

Granted, she thought that’d happen with her biological dad, but she’s made peace with that. Well. Mostly. Yeah, his death is a scar on the back of her thoughts, yet it’s come far from being the gaping wound. When she imagines Iris, Ota, maybe even Miss Hitomi celebrating this day alongside Date, the flood of possibilities that scenario opens up is one she can control. Not getting swept up, drowned, unable to breathe. A crying kid, grieving, hurting so much she thought it’d kill her. And - she’s going to visit their resting places later, like on every birthday, every special moment. Just because they’re all dead doesn’t mean they’re no longer a vital part of her life. More than a bittersweet memory, less than a ghost, something in the gray zone. An illness she can learn to carry for the rest of her life.

“You okay?” Date snaps his fingers in front of her face. “Spacing out again.”

“Yeah,” Mizuki says, and her voice is strong and sure and warm like a hug or a cup of tea. “I’m alright.”

Pausing, Date gazes at her, then nods. His tone, albeit jokey, is just as kind when he says, “Want to try my beer?”

“Hell yeah!” She swipes it from his grip and, without thinking, takes a long gulp - one she barely manages not to spit out. “Ough.”

“Thought so.” He smirks. “You’ve still got a lot to learn.”

“Hey, at least you don’t have to worry I’ll steal your gross beer,” Mizuki says, scraping her tongue over her teeth to get rid of the taste. Bleh, so bitter and powerful. Is this what adults like? No, wait, she’s an adult as well now. Shit. “I’ve got taste, unlike someone else.”

“That’s why you love me so much,” Date boasts, and she punches him in the arm. Lovingly, duh. “Hey, what was that for?”

“For being a stupid fu-”

“Now, you two,” Mama interjects. “Take your ribbing somewhere else, you're scaring away my customers."

“Sorry Mama,” they say in unison. She gives them an amiable look.

“Like father, like daughter, hm? Oh, don’t stare at me like that, you know I’m correct!”

“Strange minds think alike,” Mizuki says under her nose.

“I take offense to that,” says Aiba.

“No, you don’t.”

“I will electrocute you, Date.”

“No, you won’t,” says Mizuki, and Aiba groans in defeat.

They don’t leave Marble until closing time. When Mizuki’s Uber arrives, the driver honks the horn at her because she finds it hard to break the hug with Date, his palm against the back of her head and her eyes hidden in his shoulder. If she tears up, he doesn’t mention it. If she notices a shine in his good eye, she doesn’t say a word. It’s alright. They’re alright. This is the ending they’ve come to accept.

She’s twenty years old, and the future opens wide, endless, beautifully neutral.

#ai the somnium files #aitsf #mizuki okiura #kaname date #mizuki date #rblgs > likes 💙#sil.pdf #aitsf spoilers cw #sylwek.txt

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mycameraandmythings · 11 months

Text

Truths

You are getting ready to leave. You go get your jacket, put on your shoes and as soon as you open the door, you have uninvited guests waiting for you on the hall.

At first you don’t see them, but as you walk to the front door through them, a cold breeze goes all over your neck down to your back and as if they were crashing the best party ever, they decide to stick around.

I guess we all have our fears, our ghosts. I’ve always pictured them like some sort of Dementors that are invisible to people, but are there with you all the time. And I imagined them coming in the most unannounced and unexpected way ever… Maybe that’s why I always have cold hands.

A few of them are my messiest roommates. I have asked them to leave but my Patronus is not strong enough yet. However, there is this one Dementor. He’s been been with me for quite a long time and I admit that I’m afraid that, after so long, this fear can become a truth. A reality.

And a truth spoken by someone else, has another sound, a different wave. And if that person is someone you care about, then it’s like a katana going through your heart. That’s why this hurts way more than when I see my Dementor everyday.

I guess when you don’t have so many things, it’s easier not to get attached to stuff you don’t own. Makes sense, right? The least you have, the easier it is to adapt to unknown situations. So for example, if you want or have to move, change country or whatever, then you only have to worry about the things that you have. When I moved for the first time, I put an ocean in between my family and the only life I had known and I flew with only two suitcases. Nothing else.

It’s been 12 and a half years of that.

But what happens when your life changes? At some point, it has to. Of course, we all grow and want different things. I’ve been searching for stability for so long that instead, it has become a shadow that follows me around all day long, every single day. Sometimes, I think it’s just making fun of me, honestly.

In the last three years, a lot has happened. I found a good job and the stability (in the most literal meaning) that I was looking for. But I discovered that stability is not just having a 9 to 5 job and a fixed salary every month. Of course this helps, but stability, actually, has another side: it’s a house that feels like home; it’s friends who like spending time with you and creating memories; it’s time shared with those who live in your heart. Does it make sense?

As I think I have been slowly ticking a few items on the list to complete the recipe of stability (this feels like it’s taking foreveeeer!) one of the Dementors, grew stronger since last weekend. You see, two weeks ago, my first ever sofa, arrived to my new apartment. It’s a three place sofa but really wide; and because of something I heard that got stuck in my heart, I started thinking what if this is too much of a dream for me? Is this “too big” for me? Not only the sofa, the whole thing…

It’s kind of that feeling when you buy some clothes that you really like, for example, and they turned out to fit a little bit big on you… what would you do? Would you keep them even if they don’t look that bad or would you return them?

My best friend can perfectly see when one of my Dementors is draining me and she can cast her Patronus immediately so I could breathe again. She would probably say that I should do what I want and not listen to anyone. Steffy would say that nothing should matter more than what I think. She would say that this is my “home” and that’s what counts.

I know she’s right.

But the Dementor of doubt has been playing in my living room this week and I can’t help to wonder if maybe I was dreaming way beyond my possibilities. Do I actually fit here? I’ve always thought it was alright to aim high enough and always wondered if I could reach there… is it a bad thing?

The truth is that I live alone in what somedays feels like a giant’s castle. My apartment is big, with enough space and perfectly fine for just one. But it’s true that when you start to build your home, especially in a country that’s not yours, you dream of having people around as much as possible. You dream of having a physical space big enough to share with a partner and a perfect excuse to just get together. And that is exactly what I want.

I still have some points on the list waiting to be ticked. But with doubt disorganising my house, I ask myself: if this is too big for me, then what should I aim for? Where am I standing and where should I go? Am I going to have the opportunity to have my own “home”, share it with someone everyday and having friends around pretty often?

If the answer, dear Universe, is yes, then my last question is: when is it going to be my turn?

Madrid, August 2017.

#truths #fears #dementors #patronus #harry potter #storytelling #narrative #stairs #spiralstairs #shotoniphone #iphone #iphonography #madrid #architecture #streetphotography #photography

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 1 year

Text

And Eat It, Too: Chapter Nine: Handwriting

In which Elias begins to cross the line, Michael is officially out of action, and Jon realizes the Web is more involved than he knew...

>>> NOW ON AO3!

Warning for Elias being Elias.

(Masterpost including playlist)

CHAPTER NINE: HANDWRITING

The leather is nice, actually.

Jon can’t stop running his fingers over it, wondering at the softness, the suppleness. He’s sat on leather seats before, but they never felt like this.

“It’s stag, if you’re wondering,” says Elias, driving without any particular rush.

Jon blinks. “What, good old Corinthian isn’t good enough for you?”

“Jon, please. Corinthian leather was a pitiful cheat, developed by Chrysler so they could legally charge for leather while providing vinyl,” says Elias.

Jon does not feel he needed to know that. He also did not need to know precisely what kind of face this leather was once attached to. “Oh.”

“Here.” Without looking from the road, Elias leans over him.

Jon presses back against the seat, hands in the air, as Elias opens the glove compartment and drops some paper in his lap. “Read, will you? I know you’re in no condition to talk right now.”

Statements.

A few weeks ago, he might have still argued, or at least put up a token resistance.

He may not be able to avoid feeling like a dog given a bone, but he’s hungry.

And he’s weak.

He needs strength for whatever comes next.

He reads, and completely misses the rest of the drive.

“Better?” says Elias after he turns off the car.

Jon is relaxed, eyes closed, head back. “Yes.”

“Come on, then. I’m sure you want a shower.”

Jon takes his time getting out. He’s moving slowly, feeling oddly luxurious. Everything is back to the way it should be—no dizziness, a low flow of energy calibrated just for him, mind clear and head pain-free.

Elias escorts him out of the narrow drive and through a side-entrance into a small, walled court.

It’s not huge (it is in London, after all), but it’s attached to what had to be some lord’s guest house back in the day.

It is stone, three stories, castellated. The front door is wide and black and riveted, and Jon stops to say, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Family is important, Jon. You never know what they may provide you to tide you over through the dark times.”

Jon eyes him.

Elias is deadpan.

Jon just shakes his head and walks inside.

“Shoes off.” It is not a request.

Jon’s fine with that. His feet hurt after all this running around he’s been doing, and although he no longer feels ready to keel over, he wants to get clean and at least try to get some sleep.

But without Michael…

“I am glad to see you awake,” says Elias, hanging up his coat. “I am sorry it took so long to reach you. I can only travel so fast, you know.”

“What dreadful torment that must be,” Jon mutters, staring at all the portraits on the walls. Eyes, everywhere. “A little overdone, isn’t it?”

“One’s home must be safe, Jon.” Elias strides down the hall, past rooms minimally adorned and gently lit by small reading lamps. All the furniture is white and plush.

“We need to talk,” says Elias, and again, it isn’t a request.

Jon doesn’t answer. It’s the only rebellion he has to give right now.

The upstairs guest room is clean, elegant, like the rest; Elias has already laid out towels and a set of sleep-clothes. “When did you—” Jon begins.

“When you woke. After that, I just had to see where you’d go so I could meet you there.”

“Did you see what happened? All of it?” Jon turns.

Elias is wearing an expression that makes Jon want to jump out the window.

It is triumphant. Gleaming; eager as if he’s just gotten his hands on some kind of invaluable prize.

The moment they lock eyes, the expression disappears.

Jon swallows.

“I did,” says Elias. “Very well handled, by the way. I’m not sure I would have thought to operate on Melanie’s leg.”

Jon doubts that. “And Hopworth?”

“I admit I may have run a few traffic lights when I realized he had you,” says Elias, who at least has not come closer, who might be aware of how badly he just scared his guest. “Fortunately, you handled that, too.”

“Oh, I did, did I? I handled it. Elias, if that is a pun…” His fist is still clenched.

Elias does not acknowledge that. “Let me see.”

A sour thrill of shame. “I don’t want to.”

“Jon.” Firm. Chiding. Don’t be a child in one word.

Jon hunches, but holds out his left hand.

Elias studies it, runs his finger along the altered tip of Jon’s pinky, brow knit. “Well, he did a good job, for what it’s worth. You don’t even have a scar.”

“I’m so very lucky.” Jon takes his hand back. “Just… go away. We’ll talk soon enough.”

“I will have dinner ready. Take your time.” And finally, he leaves.

Jon wonders if Gertrude tried to kill him just for the creep-factor alone.

He takes every single portrait in the room down and turns them to face the wall.

He looks, then, searching drawers and cabinets; and yes, there are candles—and a small book of matches.

Silent, grieving, Jon burns Gerry’s page in Elias’s bathroom sink.

It hurts, to burn it—physically burns him. He accepts it as his due.

Then he goes to shower.

Michael, he thinks, wet fingers sliding over the scar on his left arm. Please. You don’t have to… do anything for me. Just let me see you one more time. Thank you for saving me.

No answer. No reply. No invasive giggle.

No confusion or anger, either.

Something doesn't feel right.

He knows, logically, that the Distortion could be just done with him. That makes sense; it is the epitome of a free agent, and if it isn’t getting what it needs, naturally, it would go elsewhere.

But it doesn’t feel like that’s it, for some reason.

He decides, as he dresses, that it’s the way the communication feels.

It doesn’t feel like he’s hurling it into a Corridor and no one is answering the echoes.

It feels more like it’s falling into a void and never landing at all.

Elias has two plates and a selection of left-overs. Some finger sandwiches; half a beef wellington. Scones. A tureen of soup. “You’ve caught me between shopping,” he says. “I’m afraid you’ll only have cast-offs tonight. I promise better fare later.”

Jon ignores the fact that this sounds like he’ll be eating here again and sets in with a will.

His stomach informs him that the Eye may have kept him well for a week, but he also hasn’t eaten real food in a week, and he hadn’t exactly been exceeding caloric requirements before that.

He pretends it isn’t worrisome that he can eat a heavy meal like this without any issues. Monster digestion has its perks, he thinks, trying and failing to find it funny.

Elias waits while he stuffs his face. Watching.

Just watching.

Jon glares over a scone. “Already ate, did you?”

“Yes,” says Elias softly, unblinking.

Jon points at him with the scone. “Stop that.”

Elias blinks, at last. “I need to know what you found.”

“You already know. You’re going to tell me you weren’t watching?”

“I need to know what you discovered, Jon. I can do many things, but I cannot give my full attention to more than one thing at a time. I don’t know what you found.”

“Hmph,” says Jon, mouth full.

“When you share that, I can tell you what we have found.”

That’s much more interesting, and Jon finishes up.

That’s twice in an hour he’s given you what you need, he thinks. Buttering you up? Making up for perceived wrongs? Trying to spoil you? Why? What does he want out of this?

Elias leans forward and slides the dishes to the side, not looking away from Jon. “Speak.”

“We can stop the Unknowing,” says Jon, folding his napkin and placing it between them. “The danger is that we have to do it after it’s already started.”

Elias slides the napkin away. “That is… very risky.”

Jon leans back. “I know. But it’s happened before. 1787. By the Slaughter, of all things, if you can believe that.”

“Go on.” Elias leans in.

Jon swallows and pretends he didn't notice this odd behavior. “They just walked in—interrupted it when it was in full swing, killing people and wrecking automatons. We can’t—won’t—do it that way, but it did work. The whole thing ground to a halt, the dance did not continue, and there were even survivors to tell the tale.”

“And how, pray tell, do you intend to disrupt an event of this magnitude? Surely they would make preparations to prevent something like that again.”

“We’ll think of something. The bigger issue is where it’s going to take place. Unless it’s in full swing, they could just stop, move, and start again elsewhere.”

Elias smiles like a cat. “Then you will enjoy this news: Tim has found the location.”

Jon’s heart leaps into his throat. “Is he all right?”

“Quite fine. It’s happening at the House of Wax museum in Great Yarmouth.”

He shudders at the memory of Nikola’s voice. And he is absolutely surrounded with waxworks. Not good waxworks, though. Weird ones. Wax faces where you feel like you almost recognise who it’s meant to be, but, then instead… ah, it’s downright uncanny!

“That explains a lot. Disturbing place.” Jon’s hands are on the table. He sees the asymmetry, his left pinky shorter than his right, and he curls his hand closed.

He already knows he struggles with body issues. He’s never been considered attractive; he’s covered in scars.

But he doesn’t have to think about his body most of the time. He can make it professional, then ignore it.

He does have to see his mutilated hands. He can’t forget; can’t ignore. It’s affecting him more than he expected.

“Can you come in tomorrow?” says Elias.

“Yes. I’m fine. I know I shouldn’t be, but… I’m fine.”

Elias’s eyes lid. “Good. You’re doing very well, Jon. Moving far faster than I’d thought you would.”

“But not as fast as you hoped?” Jon snaps.

Elias smiles. “Always ready to bite, even when no one is threatening you. Jon, really. Accept the compliment for what it is.”

Jon clenches his jaw.

“I suppose we’re both fortunate I find this endearing, or just think how difficult it might be to get anything done?”

Jon rolls his eyes.

“Come along. You’re welcome to stay here until you sort out your own… situation.”

And only then does Jon realize that if Elias put out clothes when Jon woke up, then Elias knew he wasn’t going back to the penthouse.

Elias stands, waiting, looking at him.

“Where is Michael?” says Jon, softly.

“Where he belongs,” says Elias. “Out of the way.”

Jon is very still. “We need its doors.”

“We will manage. Now—you may have been enjoying the glories of world travel, but I had to alter my sleep hours significantly to keep an eye on what you were doing. I am going to bed. You should, as well.”

It feels like a rebuke.

Like Jon fucked up so much that Elias had to clean up the mess.

Like Elias is tired because of Jon, and international date lines were just incidental.

He wants to ask, wants to demand, to know if Elias put Michael in a book, to know if Elias put Michael in something else, to know if Elias unmade it somehow and released the “pointless” human remnant from the Distortion’s form.

He cannot read Elias.

Elias has not moved, and there is a weight to his presence, an unyielding something that Jon cannot push past or see over.

Whatever it is, it makes all his questions stick in his throat, unable to slip through, no matter how he tries. He doesn’t know why.

He does not offer to help with the dishes. It is an only marginally satisfying rudeness.

Jon hates Elias’s hand on the small of his back (again) as Elias walks him to bed. Sharply misses being asked before being touched. Ignores the look Elias gives him upon discovery of the paintings on the floor (as if he didn’t already know). Nods when bid goodnight, and is heavily disappointed to discover there is no lock.

Jon moves all the paintings into the hall and slams the door harder than strictly necessary.

He can’t sleep.

He wants to. He wants to a lot.

But there is a nagging, pulling, tugging, terrible urge to go outside for no reason, instead.

When Jon squints his eyes, he sees gossamer threads all through the room, though none of them are touching him; an atmosphere of influence, maybe, or something far worse.

If he turns his head, opens his eyes, tries to focus at all, they disappear.

He’s so tired of being afraid.

Does Elias know these things are here?

Jon has no idea.

He should go get him. Bother him awake. Ask him what the hell is going on.

Outside, the influence strums. Come outside.

Nope, not doing that.

Jon wonders if they’re just going to hurl Mister Spider through the window, tied to a brick.

He gives up, gets up, and starts snooping.

There’s no reason not to. Elias didn’t say he had to stay in his room.

There is no sign of the homeowner as he wanders in bare feet, as quiet as he can possibly be, although he’s sure Elias knows he’s there. Elias could certainly see him; there are more portraits in here than the National Gallery.

Who are these people, anyway?

The first one is pure Romanticism in style—a distinguished older man with a rakish grin, intelligent features, and such a keen look that even through the paint, it feels like this person could read his thoughts.

Jon suddenly knows it’s Jonah Magnus, founder of the Institute.

Same gray eyes as Elias. Creepy.

The next, he knows, is Robert Smirke, looking slightly off to the side, and wearing a tiny, pleased smile. He doesn’t look like someone who tried to design architecture to control the Fears—and failed—but then Jon isn’t sure what a person like that would look like.

Mordechai Lukas is next—a hard, frightening face, steely dark gaze, glaring straight at the painter as if daring them to make a mistake. It’s funny, though; it seems the same age as the other portraits, but it’s… fuzzy. Out of focus. Which makes no sense. It’s painted.

Jon shakes his head and moves on.

George Gilbert Scott. Henry Roberts. Barnabus Bennett. Jonathan Fanshawe. Maxwell Rayner.

It’s like a Gilded Age Who’s Who in the Fears community.

Jon stops looking at portraits after that.

The bookshelf is packed, and Jon amuses himself reading spines for a short while; there’s quite a selection. Elias has everything from dry essays on niche history and politics to collections on the philosophy of war to old Mills & Boone romances.

Maybe they’re Leitners. Jon moves on.

Bold now, he slides open drawers and finds remote controls, a few LP special-edition inserts, and finally, a sheaf of papers with a paper-clipped note:

After this, Jon, please go to bed.

Ah, thinks Jon, she wasn’t trying to kill him for being creepy. She just wanted him DEAD, and I think I understand.

He knows Elias left this here in case Jon sneaked around, and it cost him nothing if Jon didn’t. Elias knew what he was inviting into his house.

Curiosity incarnate, Jon thinks wryly, remembering his grandmother trying so hard to smile as she labeled him.

Still, he feels goaded.

Go outside. Show him who’s boss.

“Not subtle, are you?” says Jon, squinting.

Yes; there are webs everywhere in here, too—

And they’re focused on the statements. Connected.

Jon drops the pages.

Clipped, they simply fall with a thump, innocuous.

His heart is pounding. He checks over himself; no, nothing is there.

Why is nothing there?

What are they doing?

Herding me, he thinks, and closes his eyes.

What is the exact opposite of what Jon Sims would do in this situation?

Unfortunately, there’s only one answer: willingly walk outside.

Therefore, Jon can’t do the opposite of what he’d do because that would be insane.

He should tell Elias about the webs.

Though surely, Elias knows?

Can Jon see something Elias can’t?

No. That’s absurd.

Which means they’re hiding this from Elias, and that is disturbing.

He debates bothering his host. That would be funny, wouldn’t it? It’s been a while since he inspired actual grouchiness in his normally unflappable boss.

Since he escaped the Circus, actually, now he thinks of it. They hadn’t had a proper row since. Elias has been… so weird.

Jon pushes that aside. He wants to know what’s in these statements.

Why did Elias pull them aside? Was it possible Elias was being controlled by the Web?

No. No, that wasn’t possible. Maybe influenced, subtly, but controlled? No, Elias would know.

So why attach her webs to these files?

He itches to grab them, to read. To know.

Don’t suppose you can tell me what’s in them so I don’t have to pick them up, he thinks at the Eye, but that’s not how this works. It wants his experience of them, to see them through his eyes, his feelings, his fears.

And now the Eye is pushing him to pick them up, too, so that definitely backfired.

Jon starts to go back to bed. Hesitates.

Looks back.

Takes another step toward bed. Hesitates. Looks back.

He can resist the Web’s pull now, right? Would it really do harm?

Am I being arrogant? he thinks.

Probably.

But he really wants to know why those statements.

He flexes his hands. Shifts his weight back and forth. Wonders if Elias is watching all of this.

Jon has to know.

Very delicately, not touching the spot where the webbing was attached, he lifts the cover page of the first statement.

When he does, Elias’s note flutters off, and Jon catches a glimpse of writing on the back of the stationery.

Jon sees no webbing on it. Very carefully, he picks it up.

It only says this:

You will need a guide.

That is not Elias’ handwriting.

Absolute terror frissons down his spine, though he doesn’t know why, doesn’t know what such a vague statement means, and yet each word stamps itself behind his eyes, a seething, simmering warning.

“Leave me alone,” he whispers, leaving the statements on the floor. He looks at the webs. “I know you can hear me. Leave me alone.”

They hear. Of course they do, hidden spiders everywhere, always spying, always seeing.

Jon leaves the statements on the floor and goes back to his room.

The webs there are gone.

“How?” he says. More importantly: “Why?”

Maybe they just want to drive him crazy.

He suddenly knows that if he had gone to get Elias, the webs would be gone by the time Elias came downstairs.

He makes a disgusted noise and lies down.

Outside. Come outside.

“Oh, shut up,” he mutters and puts the pillow over his face.

“Jon,” followed by two precise knocks.

Jon grunts.

The dreams were awful. Horrible. And they kept switching off: he’d have one of his own, being tormented, strung up by web while Jared Hopworth took organs out of him one by one, all pain and no blood.

Then he’d stare, helpless, at poor Alice Janssen, trapped in her bed, a child again in her mind, as the monstrous automatons from her grandfather’s tale rip her apart.

Then he’d jump to Nikola, to a paring knife in her hand, and he could not wake up as she slowly slit down the center of his back, got her plastic fingers deep inside, and began to peel.

Then he’d watch Doctor Elliot forgetting how to use his own arms and accidentally breaking them.

Breekon and Hope, throwing him against a wall.

Tessa Winters eating a keyboard and cutting her whole mouth to shreds.

Mister Spider popping out of the fridge to get him, without any warning.

Karolina Górka slowly being entombed in metal and dirt in an Underground cave-in.

Georgie, who doesn’t pity him this time, but looks angry as she meets his sleep-open eyes.

And then back to good old torture, this time at the hands of Jude Perry, who keeps grabbing him in different places, melting his skin, flesh, fat, and laughing, while the web holds him still.

“You should have asked, Jon,” Elias chides.

Jon pulls the pillow down enough to glare at him over its top. “What?”

“I can help you with this. I can teach you how to guide your dreams, provide some support.’

“You’re in my head enough already.”

“Not nearly,” says Elias in a low, smooth voice. “Come down to breakfast. Coffee or tea?”

“Scotch,” says Jon.

“Not on a workday, Jonathan,” says Elias, and leaves.

Jon mutters darkly into his pillow.

He stumbles downstairs ten minutes later, having neither changed nor showered, and plops at the table like a marionette with its strings cut.

“If you hadn’t removed the artwork, I would have known you were in trouble,” says Elias, pouring tea from a truly lovely silver service. “I would have helped you last night, Jon.”

“Nng,” says Jon.

“It’s time we got this under control, anyway,” Elias says, placing toast and marmalade in front of him. “You have the power to deal with it. You’ve been made lazy by your pet mosquito.”

“Where did you put Michael?” Jon suddenly says, power thrumming through him with absolute ease.

Jon hadn’t expected it.

Neither had Elias. “The Dark,” he says, and then looks absolutely shocked—but only for a second. Then he looks thrilled.

Jon gapes at him. “You what?”

“Well done, Jon. I called in an old favor,” Elias says. “I knew you’d just go after it if I bound it the usual way. You cannot find it. You need to accept that. I assure you, it doesn’t miss you.”

“It may not, but that isn’t—” Jon stops.

What am I doing? He looks at his uneven hands, clenches the left one.

Isn’t this good?

Michael can’t hurt anyone anymore. It can’t feed on anybody.

So why does his heart ache so much?

A few months ago, Jon would have tried to do this himself. It is good. Isn’t it?

“Is there a reason you left the statements on the floor, by the way?” says Elias.

So he wasn’t watching. “Is your note still there?”

Elias pauses. “No. I assumed you’d pocketed it, for some particularly personal reason.” He sits across from Jon, eyebrows raised. “If you wanted something with my scent, a handkerchief is the more traditional route.”

Jon stares at him.

Elias sighs. “Eat. We leave in an hour.”

Arriving at work with Elias Bouchard. Oh, he was never going to live this down, even if nobody caught him. “I can make my own way.”

“And when the Stranger tries for you again? Or the Mother of Puppets with that book?”

Jon stills.

“If you are with me, they will not dare. None of them. Eat your toast.”

“Why?” says Jon. “Is it fear of you? Respect? Why?”

“Because I have been doing this for a long time, and there are rules no one will break,” Elias snaps, and then looks shocked again. His eyes meet Jon’s. A slow, heated smile transforms his face. “You are getting good at that,” he says in a low, throaty voice, and touches Jon’s wrist.

Jon pulls away and focuses on tea. These touches aren’t new. He tells himself to get over them.

But Michael would have asked.

“Regardless. It is the truth,” Elias continues. “Should I die, there are… arrangements. The repercussions, simply put, would not be worth it. It would be a Pyrrhic victory, at best.”

Jon sighs, nods.

Misses Michael.

Doesn’t miss that Elias’s hand tightens on his knife when he thinks that.

“We should have a meeting today,” says Jon, deflecting. “All of us. I feel.. I… know… that the answer is close.”

“It needs to be,” says Elias. “We are almost out of time.”

Jon nods again and goes silent.

For once, blessedly, Elias lets him.

(part ten)

#tma fic #tma fanfic #tma au #jonathan sims #elias bouchard #tma elias #and eat it too

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moca-de-led-ger · 2 years

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It’s so hard. It’s too hard to keep going. I will and I’ll try, but it’s agonizing without you.

My cat, Nico, passed away a few days ago and it’s been too hard to process and move on. He was too young to leave, it shouldn’t have happened.

He died with an unknown disease the doctors couldn’t even find. It was spontaneous and was a gradual downfall for him. I am glad at least, for an outside cat, instead of dying lost somewhere or passing away somewhere I wouldn’t have known, he spent his last night on my bed, he was incapable of moving aside from breathing and yet with the little energy he had he would turn to look at my bed and attempted to stand up and jump to my bed. I helped him walk to it. He spent his final moments wrapped under a white blanket, drinking his last doses of water we syringed. He passed on the passenger seat on my way to the vet.

He was only a year and a half, which is also almost how long I’ve had him. He was supposed to grow and experience a decade of a lifetime, meet some friends of mine and discover new things. But it didn’t happen, and we don’t know the cause of his death. It hurts because he was my best friend and one of the best things to ever happen in my past rough years. I haven’t had this kind of joy since 2014, and even when things seemed dark, at least he was here with me. But now he’s gone, and it’s scary. I hoped I was a good parent. He would follow me a lot and press his head at me, so as much as I’m incompetent and clumsy for so much of my goddam life, I must’ve done something right.

Ive never had a pet before and because my family and I live in a dysfunctional environment, we didn’t have the time or energy to even consider having a pet around. We were to busy trying to keep up with our own lives. But he was given to us from a vague family through vague means. He just happened to be chill and already potty trained. It ended up working out especially since my bro was in a cat phase at the time, and his friend knew that and considered if he wanted a cat from a friend of a friend’s family who couldn’t take care of a cat (or cats???). I miss him so much and it hurts that maybe he would’ve lived longer if we sent him to a barn sooner. But I grew attached and didn’t regret the decision. he was full of life, liked hopping in and out, jumping on our trees and plopping comfortably in our house. I never lashed out at him or got angry. I could never. He was cute and I’d never had any experience owning a pet growing up, it was foreign for me. Yelling or punishing him seemed unwarranting to me like why he’s cute and he’s never done anything nasty or horrible.

Why.

I don’t understand why he had to leave now. Just when things were working out. He was the future that I never anticipated years before and what taught me what the future would hold if I kept on living. Now what am I supposed to do??? There’s a whole other story with my family and how frustrating it’s been living with certain individuals I won’t name. I haven’t talked with some of my close friends who are much distant now, so Ive been rendered a loner for the past handful of years due to burn out with life to even catch up with friends as well as having a complicated relationship with my closest friends after said 2014.

What the fuck that’s unfair. I’ll miss Nico forever. It’s so fucking unfair. I miss him now and feel incapable of eating without him sleeping 5 feet away from me. He was irreplaceable, he was different from other cats. Not because he was actually different different from cats, but cause of the small things. He was a black ‘domestic long haired’ cat, which is his breed apparently. He hardly meowed. He only meows when we served tuna or on some few occasions. He was very high pitched, like a squeaky toy. I don’t think having a new cat would remedy my heart since all cats and kittens are different, all I want is to have him back. But all I can do is keep moving forward. I’ll only let him down if I neglect my well being. It’s just painful is all.

#wanted to vocalize some of these thoughts #I love you Nico #I just want to add how much my parents have helped processing this #my mom was the one who wrapped him in a blanket and syringed him water #my dad arrived to the vet to help me and has been helping me figure out a resting place for him

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

Try it, I Dare You

*** Greetings! So this little fic is part of Familial Attachments which I wrote ages ago. I randomly got inspired by Big Bro! Lucifer and decided to branch off of it. Quick reminder that this MC is not a Teen! MC and therefore not underage. Thanks, everyone for the love and support! This fic is a long one. -B ***

Summary: As Lucifer forms a more familial bond with MC, the other brothers find themselves falling for the human romantically. Lucifer notes the changes in his brother's intentions and is not pleased.

Gaining you as an honorary little sibling was one of the best things to ever happen to Lucifer.

It gave him someone he could open up to, someone to fawn over, someone he could be soft with.

This change in dynamic between you and Lucifer had caused a number of things to change in the House of Lamentation in general.

You and Lucifer had become practically attached to the hip. Where you went, it seemed he wasn't far behind. The other brothers had joked that he had degraded himself to be your guard dog (a comment that had them all scrubbing the entirety of the hall's floors with their own toothbrushes), and in all honesty, he sort of had. Lucifer spent more time outside of his office, and would instead do his work in the lounge, where he could personally keep an eye on you.

It was this extra time around you that had caused Lucifer to begin to notice things.

It began, as most problems within the house do, with Mammon.

You had been talking with Mammon on the couch as Lucifer quietly did paperwork in the background.

He hadn't been listening in on the conversation (as frankly, it was none of his concern and you did deserve your own privacy), but your bright laugh had momentarily caught his attention.

When he glanced over, he saw you double over, nearly in tears from something Mammon had apparently said. It was nice.

What wasn't so nice, was the openly soft, adoring look that he was giving you under the knowledge that you weren't looking. His cheeks were dusted visibly flushed as his eyes glistened with affection.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed as the expression quickly disappeared once you turned to face Mammon once more and continue your conversation.

Paying closer attention now, he noted how Mammon's hand was draped over the back of the couch, his fingertips ghosting over the tops of your shoulders. A fond smirk remained glued on his face as he watched you talk passionately, and didn't even make an attempt to interrupt you as he would with most people.

Most damning, however, was the fact that the blush never quite left his face.

Lucifer pressed his lips into a thin line.

Mammon quite clearly had romantic interests in you, and that just wouldn't do.

It wasn't that Lucifer didn't trust you to know what's best for yourself. No. He knew that you were exceedingly clever and did, in fact, trust you to make your own choices. It was precisely why he hadn't done anything about Asmodeus's hollow flirtations, or Satan's teasing, or Belphegor's sleepovers. He knew that if you were truly bothered by it, you were more than capable of getting them to leave you alone.

He didn't, however, trust his brothers with you.

With the new pathway of thinking that Mammon's actions had opened that day, Lucifer had noticed that Mammon was not alone in his not-so-innocent intentions with you.

In fact, it appeared that you had captured the hearts of each of his brothers.

It was all too obvious to him now.

Satan's hands lingering on yours as he passed you books. Asmodeus's comments being less shallow and materialistic and more personal and sentimental. Levi's awe-filled eyes, being fixed on you rather than the games the two of you played. Belphegor, cracking open an eye to peer up at you when you weren't looking as he "slept" on your lap. Beel's fidgeting and blush as he asked you to help him work out. Mammon practically melting whenever you ruffled his hair; even as he protested and swatted at your hands.

Lucifer cursed his past self for being so oblivious.

Perhaps the worst part of all of this is that you, the innocent pure soul that you were, were completely oblivious to all of their advances. You would simply giggle or brush it off entirely as just one of the many weird things that his brothers did.

It was unacceptable.

Lucifer, although he seldom admitted it, loved his brothers. He truly did. But he also knew how reckless, moronic, and just overall dangerous they could all be. You deserved better than that. It was for this reason that Lucifer had made it his personal mission to put an end to these revolting advances.

Asmodeus smiled as he practically skipped over to where you were reading in the living room, "Hey MC," he draped his arms over your shoulder from behind and nestled his chin on top of your head. "What are you doing today?"

You chuckled and moved your head to gaze up at the bubbly demon. "Good morning, Asmo. I'm not doing much. Just relaxing, I guess. Why?"

Asmo could feel his smile widen at the information. He had been trying to get you all to himself all week, but there was always someone else around or something else that you had to do. Now was his chance!

He hummed as he snaked around the chair to face you. "Then that means you're free to spend the day shopping with your truly!" He shot off a cheeky wink to end it all off.

Asmo felt his heart flutter as your eyes glittered in excitement at his words. "I'd love to Asmo! Just let me gather a few things and we'll-"

"Ah! MC. Are you heading out for the day?"

All the light and warmth that Asmodeus had been feeling instantly plummeted as Lucifer entered the room. His brother was obviously trying to play it off as though he hadn't orchestrated this, not even looking at the two of them as he thumbed through a few papers in his hands, but Asmodeus knew better.

You, however, were none the wiser.

You practically lit up as Lucifer walked into the room. "Yeah! Asmodeus invited me to go shopping with him. We're probably going to be gone for the better part of the day," Asmodeus's bad mood caused by his brother's presence softened as you looked back at him.

Asmo plastered on a smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulder while glared sharply at Lucifer. He hoped that maybe this time he'd actually take the hint and leave everything alone. "Was there something you needed, big brother? Or are you just here to grace us with your presence?"

Asmodeus regretted his words, as the moment he saw them, Lucifer smiled sharply, like a cat who'd just captured its prey. "Well, since you asked, Asmodeus, I was hoping the two of you could pick up a few things for me," Lucifer began to list off rare item after rare item. Asmo could nothing but watch as the dread in his stomach grew heavier and heavier.

You chuckled nervously as Lucifer reached what had to be the twentieth item. "That's quite a bit, Lucifer. I don't think I'd be able to remember it all, and even if I did, I don't know where to begin looking for half of the things you listed," your face scrunched up adorably in thought before you snapped and looked up at the two demons. "I know! Why doesn't Lucifer come with us! That way he'll be able to get his things, and we all can spend time together. Sounds nice, right?"

And there it was.

Asmodeus did everything he could to keep the disappointment off his face, as Lucifer patted your shoulder. "That sounds like an excellent idea, MC," Asmo bit back a growl as Lucifer pulled you out of his arms and lead you towards your room. He glanced back at Asmo with a smug, prideful, look on his face. "We'll go get ready. Thank you for arranging this day out, Asmodeus."

Asmodeus could do nothing but pout as Lucifer walked away with you.

Satan had never felt so... tender-hearted before.

He watched you affectionately as you rambled on about your day while effortlessly helping him make supper.

There was something so wholesome and domestic about the entire situation that reminded him of the few romance novels he had read. Initially, when he read those books, he thought the poetic descriptions of the person's heart skipping and the tingling warmth filling their body was a gross exaggeration, but now he knew, and he never wanted that feeling to go away.

He moved by your side and stirred one of the pots on the stove while you diced tomatoes. As he listened to you speak about an enchantment you were trying to get the hang of with Solomon, he suddenly remembered one of the more cliche moments from the books he read.

Glancing at the sauce, Satan carefully scooped up a little bit into a spoon and gently blew on it to cool it down. He turned to you and held the spoon out towards you. "I'm not sure if I got the spices balanced outright. Would you mind-"

Before he could speak any more, a head. that most certainly did not belong to you, swooped down and ate the sauce off the spoon. You and Satan blinked as Lucifer, who had somehow appeared behind you, pulled away from the spoon with a thoughtful expression. "The sauce is good. I'd say it's probably done now," Lucifer stated calmly as his thumb wiped at the corners of his mouth. Satan's grip tightened on the spoon's handle as he snarled at his brother.

You looked awkwardly between the two as Lucifer draped his arm onto your shoulder. "Lucifer? What are you doing here?"

Lucifer's expression softened as he looked down at you, "I just wanted to check in on you," Satan's eye twitched at the excuse. Lucifer tilted his head before he continued. "Also, I saw Mammon sneaking into your room, muttering something about your jewellery box and wanted to give you a heads up."

Your eyes widened as your head snapped in the direction of your room. "What?! Why didn't you start with that?!" Lucifer's smile widened as you made your way towards the kitchen exit. You glanced back at Satan with sympathetic eyes, "Sorry, Satan. I'll promise I'll help you make dinner next time!" Before Satan even had the chance to respond, you had taken off down the hall, yelling his older brother's name.

With you gone, Satan turned to Lucifer with full, unrestrained fury. "What the fuck was that for?" he spat as he stepped into Lucifer's space.

The elder brother merely rolled his eyes and stepped around Satan as though he was nothing more than a hissing kitten. "I could be asking you the same thing. You were getting awfully close there."

Satan's face grew red, though it was hard to distinguish whether the colour was from anger or embarrassment. "That's none of your business!"

Apparently, Lucifer didn't deem a response necessary, as he simply dismissed his brother with a cocky wave of his hand and strutted out of the room in the same direction that you had left.

Beelzebub was taking a chance and stepping outside of his comfort zone.

Ever since discovering a small, weak flower in the shadows of the Hall of Lamentation and nursing it back to health, Beel had taken up gardening as a hobby.

None of his brothers knew about it, to his knowledge, and that was okay. If anything, the soft-spoken demon preferred it that way.

But when he noticed that it was particularly nice outside and that you were roaming around with little to do, he decided to let you in on his little secret.

Beel stole a glimpse over his shoulder at you. You were hunched over, humming to yourself as you worked away, your hands knuckle deep in the rich soil with smudges of dirt smeared across your forehead. The gentle dim light of the Devildom sky bounced off your skin and blanketed you in its glow, only adding the beauty you projected.

The sight alone stole his breath and momentarily made him forget about his hunger.

He opened his mouth to speak to you, but was cut off by the sound of heavy footfalls thundering towards you and a loud dangerous growl.

Beel's eyes widened as he notice Cerberus turn the corner, heading straight towards the two of you in a dead sprint.

Without thinking, Beel quickly tackled you to the side, just as the three-headed hell hound rushed past you, demolishing the garden in his wake.

You did a double-take between Beel, Cerberus and the garden as you scrambled to your feet. "Cerberus? How in Diavolo's name did he get loose?" you anxiously ran a hand through your hair began to head in the direction he took off in. "Lucifer taught me a few tricks for catching him. I'm going to go get him! I'm so so sorry about all of this Beel! I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

Without another word you took off after the beast, shouting it's name.

Beel frowned and looked at what remained of his garden. He felt his heart sink a little at seeing all of his hard work destroyed. With a heavy sigh, he slowly made his way towards Cerberus's den to see just how bad the damage was.

Only, when he arrived, the pen's door didn't even have a scratch on it; almost as though someone had let the dog out.

Leviathan paced around his room as he muttering to himself as tightly clenched to tickets.

"Alright, Levi. It's not a big deal," he whispered reassuringly. "You just have to go out there, hand them the tickets, and ask them to come with. You already checked their calendar when you were in their room last time, and there are no mentions of any upcoming events on their Devilgram, so they won't be busy. O-Of course, they could always reject you for being a stupid shut-in and a gross o-otaku, b-b-but they're your Henry! Right? They have to agree! Okay!" Levi took a deep breath of courage and quickly flung open his door.

He charged to the living room where he knew you would be lounging with Lucifer.

Upon seeing him, your expression lit up and you graced Leviathan with one of your dazzling smiles. The otaku swore that he could hear his heart go "doki-doki". He stumbled to a stop as his face blushed, and quickly hid the tickets behind his back. "H-Hi MC."

"Hey, Levi-chan!" Oh Diavolo, he loved it when you called him that. "What's up? You look like a man on a mission."

Levi briefly noted Lucifer side-eyeing the two of you as he began to stutter out an answer. "W-Well you see, uh... I-I just um...There's this th-thing that..." He let out a small noise of frustration at his own incompetence.

But you never laughed, or sighed, or groaned, like any of his brothers would have. No. You merely sat there and waited patiently for him to find his words with a gentle smile on your face.

Another deep breath and Levi composed himself. "Did you want to go to an idol concert with me this weekend?" Levi couldn't even bring himself to look you in the eyes as he asked the question. "O-Obviously you don't have to, b-b-but you seemed to like their music when I played it the other day, a-a-and you aren't busy so I thought-"

"Actually," Levi's mouth snapped shut as Lucifer spoke up, "MC and I have plans with Diavolo this weekend."

Levi's head whipped over to look at you and noted the slightly confused expression on your face. "I thought that was next weekend?"

Amber eyes narrowed at the words, as Levi slowly turned to glare at Lucifer. It was all to clear to the Otaku what was happening here.

Lucifer shrugged, not even phased by the venomous stare of his brother, and pulled out his D.D.D. "Barbatos messaged me saying that Diavolo had an important meeting pop up next week and asked if we could move our little get-together to this weekend instead."

You huffed and crossed your arms. "I know he's the prince and can't help it, but making last-minute changes like that is just rude."

Lucifer chuckled at your annoyance and ruffled your hair. "I know, but it's nothing either of us can help. I'll just confirm that we're good with the change and-"

"No." Lucifer and Levi both looked at you in shock. Levi dared to let his heart flutter with hope at the determined look on your face. "I can make plans with Diavolo any time. This concert is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and it clearly means a lot to Levi. Tell him that I'll have to take a rain check. I'm going to be spending the weekend with Levi-chan."

Levi instantly let out a cheer of victory as he stepped forward spun you in the air. "Thank you, MC!!! Oh we're going to have so much fun! I swear you won't regret this!"

You giggled as you were set back down onto your feet. "Thank you for inviting me! This is going to be amazing!"

You and Levi began rambling about all the things you wanted to do at the concert and what you'd need to prepare in advance for the ultimate experience.

Levi couldn't believe it! He was going to spend an entire weekend getting to show you the things that he loved! It'd be just the two of you and it'd be perfect.

"I have an idea," Levi felt himself tense as Lucifer spoke up once more. "Why don't we all go together? That way you can spend time with Diavolo, while also getting to attend the concert?"

Levi's heart sunk as you squealed at the idea, jumping excitedly around a smiling Lucifer.

So much for his perfect, romantic, weekend.

Mammon took a deep breath as he stared at your bedroom door.

This was it. He was finally going to tell you how he felt.

He had it all planned out. He was going to go in there, and gift you the necklace he had noticed you looking at the last time the two of you went downtown. Then, he'd explain how through the past months of living with you and being your protector, that he found himself becoming enraptured by every single little thing that you do. He'd explain how he knows that he's clingy and greedy when it comes to spending time with you, but that's because there's nothing he treasures more than being by your side. And then, he'd say that he loves you, and hope that you say the same in return.

Fucking romantic right? Mammon had this in the bag.

He confidently lifted his chin as he knocked on your door before walking in. "Hey MC! I know it's late, but do ya gotta-" he trailed off at the sight before him.

Both you and Lucifer were in fluffy, white robes on your bed. Lucifer had a headband in his hair, brushing his bangs away from his clay mask-covered face. You were beside him, also sporting a mask, your tongue peeking out of the corner of your mouth as you carefully painted his nails.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at his brother, obviously annoyed at being disturbed, while you smiled over at Mammon. "Hey, Mams! Just a sec," you smoothly finished applying a coat of red polish to Lucifer's pinky finger before recapping the bottle and turning to the white-haired demon. "What's up?"

Mammon felt his face heat up, as he quickly hid the small box in his hands behind his back. "I- Uh- Nothin'! Just wanted to talk with ya. Can ya come with me for a few minutes?"

Lucifer sighed as he examined his freshly painted nails. "Might I remind you that you're the one disturbing us, Mammon? If you've got something to say," Mammon gulped as knowing, irked, obsidian eyes bore into his, "spit it out."

You smacked Lucifer's arm. "Hey! Be nice," you offered Mammon a sympathetic smile as you turned back to him. "Sorry, Mammon. You were saying?"

Mammon swallowed down the lump in his throat as humiliation flooded his veins. He awkwardly looked away and waved off your concern. "Nah. It was nothin' important," he subtly slid the necklace box into his back pocket, "I-I'll talk with ya tomorrow or somethin'. It's nothin' ya need to worry about."

You blinked owlishly at Mammon. He could practically see the gears churning inside your head; you obviously thought something was wrong. "Are you sure? If it matters to you, Mammon, that means it's important. I can spare a few minutes if it's really bothering you."

You began to stand up, but as you did, Lucifer caught your wrist."MC, he already said you didn't need to worry about it. If it was that important, he would've just told us. I'm sure everything is fine," Mammon tensed as Lucifer shifted his cold gaze onto him, "right?"

Mammon quickly nodded as he stumbled back towards the door. "Yeah! Yes! Everything is perfectly fine! I-I'll just get goin' and leave to continue whatever this is. Bye!" He scurried out of the room, slamming the door behind him, before slumping against it.

He could faintly hear the sounds of you scolding Lucifer, and felt himself slump in defeat.

He'd just have to try again another day.

Belphegor fluffed the blankets and pillows that he had set up in the backyard.

It was perfect. He had actually put in work to make sure it was.

A sea of blankets would protect the two of you from the chilly, Devildom, night air, while his finest pillows would make sure you were comfortable. He had brought out a thermos filled with tea and some snacks to make the evening extra cozy.

It was everything the two of you would need to take in the meteor shower tonight.

A click sounded behind him. Belphie perked and quickly turned to greet with you a smile.

Only, instead of you, a rather smug-looking Lucifer stood in the doorway.

Belphie growled and went back to arranging pillows. "What do you want?"

Lucifer shrugged and began to set up a telescope. Belphie gritted his teeth at the sight of it. "I'm just here to take in the meteor shower like you are. That's all. It is quite a beautiful sight after all, and it also happens to be very enlightening."

Belphegor sneered at his older brother as he turned away from him. "Well do it somewhere else! I'm watching the shower here with MC, not you. So go away!"

Lucifer tilted his head in mock confusion as he held up his phone. "Oh dear, but I've already invited the others to join us out here."

Belphie's head snapped up at Lucifer's words. "You what?!"

As though summoned, the rest of his brothers toppled into the backyard.

"I was unaware there was a meteor shower tonight," Satan claimed as he laid down his own blanket near Belphie's perfectly structured nest. "To think I almost missed out on it."

"Eh, I don't care about any stupid stars or anythin'," Belphie groaned in annoyance as Mammon plopped himself down beside him. "But if anythin' falls near us, then those meteor pieces have gotta be worth a fortune!"

Levi scoffed and rolled his eyes as he leaned against the house, game counsel still in hand. "Nothing's actually falling, dumb ass. They're just space rocks passing by."

Asmodeus giggled while he snuggled himself up on Belphie's other side. Belphie wrinkled up his nose and tried to lean away from the physical affection. "Then why are you out here, Levi, if they're just space rocks? Can't you admit that they're beautiful, like me, and you wanted to experience something real for once?"

Levi let out a squawk of embarrassment. "There isn't anything that 'reality can offer me that anime can't! I've seen meteor showers at least ten times all with amazing shots and angles that you could never get in real life!"

Asmodeus merely shook his head in response. "Whatever you say, Levi," he reached over to the picnic basket that Belphie for you and him had packed and held it over his head. "Beel! Snacks!"

Belphegor gaped at his twin as the ginger giant grabbed the basket and sat down behind them. "Beel?! You too?"

Beel looked down guiltily and looked through the food. "I'm sorry, Belphie. But Lucifer said there'd be snacks and that everyone else was going to be there, and I thought it'd be nice to have a family event."

Belphie groaned and held his head in his hands. "You knew I was planning this for just me and MC though."

Beel frowned and held out a cookie to his twin. "Sorry."

Before Belphie could argue anymore or even get the chance to kick everyone out, the door opened once more.

"Oh," everyone looked over to see you standing there in your pyjamas. Belphie's heart clenched as your confused eyes found his. "I didn't know this was a group gathering! I would've brought down some pillows for everyone or some snacks if I had known!" you smiled brightly at the group as you walked towards them.

"No need. Belphie went ahead and provided enough for everyone already," Lucifer claimed and patted the ground next him. "You can sit with me, MC. There's plenty of space over here."

Belphie cursed under his breath as you accepted Lucifer's offer and huffed as the meteor shower began.

Lucifer smirked as he took in his brother's defeat with glee, and you babbled away none-the-wiser by his side.

His brothers could try to woo you and corrupt you all they wanted, but Lucifer wasn't going anywhere. For every attempt they'd make, he'd be there to stop it.

You had deemed Lucifer your big brother, after all, and as such, he'd make sure that you were always safe from his brothers' infernal influences.

***The ending is meh, but whatever! I hope you guys enjoyed this fic! It was both fun and hassle to write, but I love it nonetheless! Thanks for your amazing support and love! Sorry for the lack of fics lately. Love you all!***

Taglist @all-oxidized-to-green @candymeowz, @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @lovelythoma @mothervictoire @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino @arkarul @pumpkins-mainside-blog

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me fan fic #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demon brothers #soft lucifer #big bro lucifer #gn mc #gender neutral main character #fan fic #my writing

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inriospocket · 3 years

Note

Yay welcome to the fandom. Rio deserve all the love so thank you for writing him. Since requests are open, please let us know what you’re willing to write & not. In the meantime, I’d like to please request something a lil angst & maybe fluffy? (Idc, whichever direction this leads you) Rio’s ex coming back in town & him running into her. There’s still unresolved feelings. Thank you!

Thank you for the warm welcome! ♥ I'm willing to write pretty much anything (including smut) within certain boundaries ofc but I may have to think about this longer and make a separate post. But here is your request, I hope you like it!

word count ♡ 1,040

summary ♡ Rio’s ex comes back into town & they run into each other although there are still some unresolved feelings.

situation ♡ angsty x fluffy

“Y/N?!” Marcus yelled in shock before charging towards you. You gasped as you felt his body almost push you over from the hug.

Rio became more alert when he realized Marcus was going towards someone rather than him during school pick-up but once he saw you, he had a mixture of feelings. Relief? Guilt? Hurt? Maybe even a bit of happiness?

“Marcus!” He called but he was too busy trying to crawl into your skin.

“Oh, you’ve gotten so big, papa. How are you?” You giggled, rubbing his back. “I’m good!” He smiled from ear to ear. You were going to say something until the sunlight was covered by a familiar shadow, one you left behind a year ago.

“Hey sweetheart...” Rio smirked. You looked up, your heart beating faster than you realized. “Hey.” You said, unsure if you should smile or not. You felt his dark eyes bore into yours and you were glad Marcus interrupted.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“I’m actually coming to pick up Maya. You remember Maya, right?” You smiled, watching your niece run up to you.

Marcus and Maya used to play together all the time when you and Rio were together. She waved towards Marcus.

“Come on, pup. Let’s get you home.” Rio took his hand. “Wait, can Maya come over and play, Dad?” He said with pleading eyes.

Rio mentally cursed himself for always giving into those eyes. “After homework and only if Maya’s parents are cool with it.” He said, you mentally screaming knowing you’d be looking after your niece for the day and how could you say no?

“Can we go nowwww?” Maya pulled on your arm as you were dreading to face your ex for the second time. “Alright, alright.” You said, putting your shoes back on lazily.

You spent so long trying to forget everything, including him. How could you stay away? Your whole family was here. And maybe, just maybe there was a small part of the both of you that wanted you to come back for each other. You quickly pushed the thought away, remembering how badly he hurt you.

Once you both got to Rio’s house, Marcus snatched Maya’s hand and dragged her to the playground in the backyard leaving you both alone.

The silence broke with Rio pouring himself a drink, raising the bottle to ask you if you wanted any. You shook your head, watching him twist the cap back on. It was the little things that made you miss him and hate him. He was just putting something away and it felt more to you than that.

Everything he did, so smooth, calm, collected. Everything and everyone had a place, a reason. You always compared his life to a game of chess. He was always moving the pieces and you spent your entire relationship trying to figure out how you fit on the board and why he was so attached to one of his pawns.

“Whatchu thinking about so hard?” He broke your train of thought.

“Doesn’t matter.” You lied, glancing out the window at the kids playing on the swings.

“Don’t.” He said, knowing you were lying. He probably knew you better than yourself so why try?

Might as well skip the small talk. “If it mattered, I wouldn’t be here as your guest.” You spoke.

He exhaled through his nose and pursed his lips, always a sign of frustration that you picked up on a long time ago. “You left me.” He said, casually sipping from his glass.

You shifted your gaze from the kids to him. “Did you leave me a choice?” You retorted.

He took his drink and came to sit across from you, the closeness making you slightly uncomfortable that you shifted in your seat. “Nah, you want to talk about this. Let’s talk.” He spoke. He relaxed his shoulders back and gave you that patronizing stare he gave everyone that you’ve always hated.

“Why wasn’t I enough for you?” You asked, looking down at your hands. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” He asked but, in some way, he knew.

Every argument and every fight, it always came down to one thing. Or should it be said, one person.

Beth.

You felt every feeling you tried to push to the side come back with a vengeance. “Why did you always choose her?”

Rio laughed defensively. “Y/N, come on.” He said.

“It didn’t matter if you came home to me every night, Christopher. You were still with her. And I,” You paused to keep the tears at bay.

“I spent every day wondering what I was doing wrong. What I could have done better. But I realized I just wasn’t her. I wasn’t who you really wanted. Right? And all this time, you think I’ve left? But I was here with you, Chris.” You couldn’t control the tears anymore.

“I was here with you, and you still left me.” You pressed your eyes closed.

Rio couldn’t deny it. Beth was an undeniable factor in his life. He wasn’t in love with her, but he soon realized he was in love with what she could do for him. It fueled his business, his ego, until it took away what mattered most.

He pulled your chair closer to him, so you’d be sitting between his legs. He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“Look at me, mama.” He said, holding your hands now. You opened your tired eyes, looking at him. Was he finally getting it?

“I’m sorry.” He said and you remembered this familiar look in his eyes. It reminded you of what he was like before Beth came along. He still loved you.

He wasn’t one to formally apologize. He would just one day give you flowers or make you a cup of coffee but after all this time, he knew what you really needed.

You didn’t know why but those 2 words made you break down. A year of frustration, isolation, and everything in between. You just wanted him there for you.

He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m here, baby,” he said, kissing your head.

“I’m here.”

#rio x reader #rio good girls #manny montana #good girls rio #gg fic

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lacontroller1991 · 3 years

Text

Mr. and Mrs. Flag (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @myownworldsstuff : Rick Flag and Reader where they are married with Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibes

@h-hxgirl @artemis-cr0ck

Author's Note: I think the title is very fitting 😁

Warnings: Mention of child loss, mentions of abortion, language

The smell of homemade spaghetti entered Rick’s nostrils as he walked through the threshold into his shared home with you, his wife. Hearing the door open, you quickly wiped your palms on your apron before rushing to greet him.

“Hey baby, how was work?” You asked as he set down a briefcase before pulling you into his embrace, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Work’s work, I had clients all the way up my ass today, bitching about how their stocks are plummeting,” he replied as you hummed, giving him a smile before pulling away. You knew he wasn’t a stock marketer. You knew he worked with some of the world’s most dangerous criminals. In any case, you were there to gather any intel you managed to scrape up for the CIA. What you didn’t expect was to slowly love him along the way. The CIA had warned you not to do what you did, saying that he was just a mission, but to you he became more than that. He became your best friend. He became your lover.

“Well, dinner is ready. Your favorite,” you whispered against his ear as you tugged against his blazer.

“You know me so well.”

You two ate in silence aside from the occasional slurp of noodles and guzzle of wine.

“So, how was your day?” He asked as you twirled the stem of your wine glass between your thumb and index finger, desperately wanting to tell him about how your day really was. As far as he knew, or so you thought, you were a kindergarten teacher at the local school.

“It was alright, I had 5 kids not wanting to take a nap, and 3 of them being rowdy as always. Even though I teach kids, I still don’t want one,” you mentioned as he let out a small chuckle before silence cascaded over the room. Your eyes locked with his as he cleared his throat.

“Listen, sweetheart, I got something to tell you.”

“No, I do too,” you replied, hands fidgeting underneath the table. Normally, this wouldn’t be such a big deal, but this was Rick you were telling. Someone you actually care for. You both paused for a moment, urging the other to speak; however, that was put on hold as you saw something glisten in the moonlight out of the corner of your eye before noticing that it was quiet. Too quiet, you thought to yourself before a rain of bullets ripped through the window. Falling to the floor, you glanced over to Rick who too, looked over to you.

“I’m a secret agent.”

“I do special ops,” you both said at the same time, his news not new to you, but yours was to him.

“For how long?” He asked loudly, army crawling to a secret stash of guns as you copied his movements, reaching for your own.

“15 years,” you stated, loading some guns and grabbing a couple of knives as he cocked some guns.

“Shit. You’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

“Rick, you have been too, this is not the time and place for this conversation. There’s a secret door in the kitchen that will lead to the sewer, we can make it out of here,” you mentioned as he glared at you with mistrust in his eyes before giving in and nodding. Crawling your way to the secret door, you quickly stood up and shot your gun in the general vicinity of the advancing adversaries before you went down the stairs into the small basement with Rick following you. Turning to open the lid, you were stopped as a body was pressed against you and a gun to your temple. Staring into his hazel eyes, you noticed slight flecks of green and brown that you had come to love.

“How can I trust you?” He seethed as you didn’t try to fight back.

“Rick, if I was here to kill you, I would’ve. I’m an agent, yes, but I wasn’t assigned to kill you. Please, let’s just get to safety before we go into this,” you begged as he nodded, opening the lid to the sewer before jumping in, trying to not gag at the stench. Turning on the flashlight, you and Rick made your way through the tunnels before you found the exit you designated for something like this. Climbing up the ladder, you looked behind you to make sure he was following you, and when you saw he was, you opened the hatch and climbed out into the crisp autumn night. Climbing out after you, he looked at you, feelings confused as to what to do with you.

“You got a safe house?” He asked as you nodded, starting to walk the way of the house before he grabbed your arm and shook his head.

“It might be safer if we went to Belle Reve.”

“Show me the way.”

----------

Stepping out of the shower, you wringed out your hair with a towel as you made your way into the small room with an office attached to it.

“So this is where you sleep on the nights you can’t come home,” you quipped as he shot you a glare, cleaning the water off of his guns.

“Home,” he scoffed, clicking the barrel back into place, “what a joke.” Sighing, you took a seat next to him, flinching as he moved away from you.

“That’s what it is for me,” you tried to reason as he glared at you again, trying to remain stoic and not heartbroken that the love of his life is secretly an undercover agent.

“What am I to you?” His voice hoarse from the yelling and then the silent treatment. Placing a small hand on his shoulder, you were surprised when he didn’t move to remove it.

“My husband.”

“No, what am I to you? A target? A mission? Decoy?”

“Mission,” you muttered meekly as he ran a hand over his face before you continued, “4 years ago, the CIA debriefed me on you. West Point Grad. Special Ops officer. Leader of Task Force X. The latter being what they were concerned with. They wanted me to gather whatever I could on your team and report back to them. And for the first year, I did. I went through all of your records on your computers and then some, but what they didn’t count on was that…,” you hesitated for a moment, twirling your thumbs as he waited for you to continue, “...what I didn’t count on was that I would fall in love with you. Yes, you were my mission, but what I feel for you is real. Hell, those assholes who were shooting at us were probably after me,” you finished as you took a breath, feeling his calculating eyes scope you out, trying to tell if what you were saying was real or not.

“Why would they be shooting at you,” came out his gruff question as you turned your head to focus on him.

“Probably found out the information I supplied was falsified. The first year of information was all correct, but once I realized that I did, in fact, love you and was not clouded by hormones, I stopped providing correct information.”

“Why would you be clouded by hormones?”

“I was pregnant,” you whispered, moving to clutch your stomach where the baby died inside of you.

“What?” Rick asked, scooting closer to you, not sure if he heard you correctly.

“I was pregnant with your kid. The CIA found out and terminated the pregnancy,” admitting the horrors of what the agency did to you brought up memories of the procedure. Your eyes filled with tears as you remembered the intense pain that accompanied the loss of your child.

“Shit, baby,” Rick whispered, finally letting his guard down and believing you as he watched the way your eyes glossed over. I know that look all too well, he thought before pulling you into his arms and running his hand through your hair as you broke down. Tears poured down your face as he gently shushed you, slightly rocking his body with yours.

“I’m sorry, Rick. I really am. I really do love you, you have to believe me,” you begged through sobs as he paused for a second, realizing that he didn’t care about your past and your initial mission and that all he cared about in that moment was his wife in his arms.

“It’s alright baby, I understand. We’ll make this work,” he whispered against the top of your head, rubbing circles into your back. After a while, he had moved you and him up against the bed so that you were lying against his chest as his arms wrapped themselves around you.

“Rick,” you called out from his chest. Moving to look down at you, he brushed a strand of wet hair from your face.

“Yeah baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” kissing the top of your head, he rubbed your back again as he listened to your breathing become quiet and unnoticeable. Noting that you had fallen asleep, he took the opportunity to shut his eyes and let his mind carry him into a dull slumber.

Author’s Note: AHHH Hope you enjoy!!!

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mjolnir-steve · 3 years

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Take it From Your Hot Neighbor Baby (Virgin!Sub!Midoriya x Reader)

Art credit: Heijiu Comics

Requested by anon: OMGGGGGG I love your writing, I was thinking If I can make a request on a smut with my baby Izuku Midoriya. Where he's so beautiful and innocent and the older neighbor next door from him likes him and basically targets him for sex which is the reader of course, and he likes her too. So then she totally doms him and invites him to her house and basically go at it as Izuku's innocent's self can't handle the pleasure the reader gives him!If you could do that I love your writing, If not it's cool!!!

Warnings: slight dumbification, precious bby izuku is 19, everything that happens here is consensual, unprotected sex, pet names, overstimulation, virgin!sub!izuku (mainly), Aged up!AU, filthy smut, dirty talk, cursing.

18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!! i loved writing this :D (feel free to send me another to write, i’m already almost done with what i suspect is your other one xD)

Words: 4k

You grinned as the shared wall between you and your neighbor shook, signaling that the boy from next door was finally home.

Midoriya Izuku, a passionate and utterly clueless broccoli-haired boy turned fresh pro-hero, sweet and sensitive, everything you ever wanted in a partner. That, and he was clearly too shy to approach you.

You had been neighbors with him and his mom for forever but only until recently, after his admission into UA did you start to see him in another light besides platonic. And it wasn’t until he graduated that he had completely dominated your interest in another way entirely.

It was no secret that he used to be a scrawny kid but since his high school days, he had bulked up considerably.

Now, with the body of a tank and a soul bursting with positivity, you were completely hooked.

It really was astonishing to you how he continued to maintain that innocent personality after becoming a pro-hero. No one was that optimistic and oblivious all at the same time.

You had started out with smaller hints, bringing him food once a week to make sure he was eating properly, taking care of him when he was sick or injured and just too stubborn to admit it and go to the hospital, you name it and you’ve done it.

What was extremely exciting at first to be interacting with him like this dulled the moment you realized this baby was so innocent that all your signals were completely going over his head.

The dumb baby. Your dumb baby.

He was fast approaching 20 but you were willing to bet he hadn’t even gotten laid yet. With the way he walked, it was as if he was still the same kid you had met ten years ago.

Your parents had long since moved out of the apartment, going closer to where your grandparents were since they were getting older and needed to be taken care of. You had politely declined their invitation to go with, asking if you could take over the lease on the place since they would no longer be living here.

As their only child, they had a soft spot for you and let you do as you pleased now that you were old enough to be living on your own. They even helped you out with the rent even though that was entirely unnecessary.

Your day job paid enough.

An upbeat tune floated throughout your apartment and you danced along to the music in nothing but a thin cami and a pair of scarlet lace panties. Since it was so hot today, you had decided to forgo actual clothes. It was perfect, but you were definitely still sweating.

Tapping a finger to your chin thoughtfully, you recalled how your adorable and hot neighbor’s mom was out working all day and wouldn’t be back until late. Plus, you knew that he had no hero work today, courtesy of the boy telling you himself via text when you checked up on him earlier this week.

Pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head so that it brushed just below your thong clad ass and fell off of your shoulders, you fluffed your hair, giggling to yourself at your reflection in the mirror.

Today was the day you would make Midoriya yours.

Grabbing a few cookies from the kitchen that you had made just last night because you felt like it at that moment, you flung open your front door, knocking on his a second later.

Hopping in place excitedly, you couldn’t contain your enthusiasm. You hadn’t even bothered to message him that you were coming over, knowing that he would prefer it be a surprise.

“Izuku!!” You cheered when the door opened, immediately thrusting the plate of cookies out towards him.

He staggered a couple steps back, unprepared for your sudden attack but rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile, emerald eyes shining with gratitude.

Midoriya bowed gratefully. “Thank you, Y/N!!”

It had taken literally years before he was comfortable calling you by your first name without any honorific attached to the end of it. But it was worth the wait as warmth sparked through your heart and a soft smile adorned your features before it was replaced with a mischievous one.

Bounding up to him, you pressed your chest against his purposefully, making it so that you almost lost your balance. You gasped in mock surprise when he instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist to catch you, relishing in how strong his arms felt around you.

Midoriya stuttered as your boobs were practically smushed against his face by how close you were to him. Were they always that big?!

It wasn’t like he masturbated to you everyday or anything. Definitely not.

He groaned, throwing his head back as your body heat encompassed him.

Who was he kidding, he jerked off to you every spare second he got. He couldn’t help it though. Your beautiful smile always beckoning him over, those alluring eyes of yours enticing him closer and closer until he felt as though he could combust merely by standing in your presence alone.

Giggling, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip and you batted your eyes at him. A shudder ran down his spine and you bit back a smile at the blush that sat on his freckled cheeks.

“Do you want to come over for a little while?” You asked softly, feigning shyness and you rubbed your thighs together. “I have something I want to show you.”

The action didn’t go unnoticed and Midoriya’s mouth dried as the swell of your breasts peeked up over the low scoop of your shirt when he glanced down.

“Uh, y-yes?” He uttered, voice shaking with uncertainty as he automatically agreed to what you had asked him without even thinking about it.

You giggled, eyes lighting up in excitement. “Great!!”

He stumbled after you as you dragged him next door to your apartment, losing his balance and falling on the couch as you pushed him inside.

Your eyes shifted from playful to concern as he landed on his back with an ‘oomph’.

You were quick to cup his face, examining him closely. “Oh no, Izuku, are you alright?”

“Y-Y/N!!!” He stammered out, face bright red at your proximity.

“Are you alright?” You repeated, uncharacteristically serious and seeing as how you were asking him more than one question, he nodded to both.

You chuckled, leaning in close. His cheeks burned at your proximity and although you wanted so badly to tease him, you needed to get something straight first.

“You ever been fucked before, baby?” You cooed sweetly and a visible shiver shot down his spine.

He gaped for a moment, not used to you saying something so brazenly but shook his head wordlessly.

You smiled, your tone taking on a gentle lilt as you sensed his nervousness. “Want me to be your first?”

This time he didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.” He whispered, barely breathing as he finally confessed what he had been longing for ever since he turned of age. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t outwardly show it, but your heart skipped a beat at his admission and the butterflies fluttered uncontrollably.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip to contain the wide smile. “Something tells me that you want to be played with, am I right?”

A whine bubbled past his lips and your smile turned wicked. Oh, you were going to have so much fun with him. You wondered how he would look when you played with his nipples, which you sure would be so sensitive it would have him hard in a heartbeat, or how he looked writhing under you when he was about to cum.

Anticipation thrummed through your veins and you couldn’t believe that after all this time, you finally had the opportunity to give him that kind of pleasure.

“Such a good boy.” You crooned softly and he audibly keened, stretching towards you desperately as you denied him a kiss. “What’s your safeword, baby?”

Midoriya’s head was spinning and his brain was short-circuiting from how unbelievably close you were to him. The sweet smell of your perfume flooded his senses and he swallowed thickly, very much aware of how little clothes you were wearing. You had yet to touch him and he was already a goner.

“S-Safeword?” He stammered out, his eyes shutting automatically as you threaded your fingers through his hair, a small moan breaking through the weighted silence as you scratched his scalp.

You observed his every move, every flutter of his lashes as he fell under your spell without even trying to succumb.

“Mmhm…” You hummed. “A word that you can use at any time and I’ll stop everything.”

A safeword was for both parties but you were fairly sure that you wouldn’t need it, being more experienced than him and aware of your boundaries. But just in case, you whispered that little tidbit of information in his ear so that he wasn’t left out of the loop.

“What if…” Midoriya gulped, restraining himself to keep his hands at his sides no matter how desperately he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked. “C-Can’t I just tell you to stop?”

You frowned a tiny bit, not put off by his question but rather how fucked out he looked already. The poor boy was already straining in his pants, the bulge making your mouth water but you kept your head on straight.

“You can.” You agreed. “If that’s what you want, we can do that.”

He glanced away from you, thinking hard. He wasn’t all innocent. He had watched porn before when dared to by Bakugou after one of the class movie nights at Heights Alliance back when they were at UA, and he was embarrassed how quickly he got attached to the videos that had bondage and overstimulation.

It always looked so enticing. He wanted to know what it felt like to be pinned down and overpowered until pleasure rode on every one of his senses.

He wanted you to do that to him.

“W-What about if I just used your name?”

Midoriya cringed as soon as he suggested it and took it back faster than you could react, another idea tumbling out of his mouth in a split second.

“Black?” He whispered, avoiding eye contact with you.

Baby boy blinked so nervously, worried you might refuse or reject him for any reason and you took his chin in between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his face close to yours.

“Alright baby, that’s perfect.” You reassured softly. “Either one of us can use it and then everything stops, okay?”

He nodded, getting more excited as your breath fanned across his lips.

“Need to hear you say it.” You demanded quietly.

His green curly hair bounced as he nodded vigorously. “I understand!!”

Midoriya stiffened for a moment in surprise as you finally pressed your lips against his, sealing his first kiss and he swore his heart stopped beating. Then, he melted into putty as you moved your lips skillfully against his, coaxing him to return it with as much lust and passion as you were igniting within him.

You pulled away to lean in close to his ear, trailing a finger up and down his chest playfully.

“Let me take care of you, Izuku~” You cooed, slyly licking the shell of his ear, savoring in the shiver that shot down his spine as a result of your ministrations.

You continued down, planting hot and wet open-mouthed kisses along his jaw as he whined and wriggled beneath you. Trailing down his neck to his collar bones and then his bare chest as you ripped open his shirt in one swift movement, you pinned his wrists above his head.

A protest ripped from his throat at your display of dominance.

“Y-Y/N!! I wanted to—”

“To what?” You questioned smugly.

Midoriya whimpered pathetically and you smirked.

He blushed, looking away. The boy was built like a bull but was an absolutely softie, innocent pure little bean at heart. He didn’t have what it took to take over.

“You wanted to touch me?” You asked, laving your tongue around one of his sensitive nipples. “You wanted to be on top?”

His face scrunched up at the strange sensation, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out as you bit down on the tender flesh.

You licked your lips seductively, making a show of your tongue grazing over your teeth as you gazed down at him through hooded eyes. “Do you think you deserve to touch me after being such a bad boy?”

You heard him every night. The walls were thin in the cheap apartment complex you lived in. Too thin.

“Don’t touch me until I say so.” You ordered.

You heard every wanton moan that bubbled past his pouty lips, such pretty little sounds that you wanted to hear all for yourself. You were jealous of the others in the vicinity that can undoubtedly hear him as well. The only thing that settled your heart at ease was the luscious cries of your name falling from his lips.

And now, all your neighbors would know just who he belonged to.

Midoriya gulped nervously and you reveled in the adrenaline pumping through your veins at being in control and dominating him. Your shirt rode up as you straddled his hips, and he wriggled beneath you, wanting nothing more than to touch you.

You trailed a finger from his chest all the way to his navel, teasing the waistband of his pants. He whined as you wiggled your ass down to sit comfortably on top of his thighs. Deftly unbuttoning his jeans, your eyes flickered back up to him.

“Oh my, these look so uncomfortable.” You mock pouted, sneakily biting the zipper of his fly and pulling it down. “Do you want me to take them off for you?”

You grinned as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into your feather-light touch, tears collecting at the corner of his eyes in frustration. Slowly pulling down his pants and boxers together, your eyes bugged out as you saw what he was packing.

“Oh…” You mused. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

If you thought he was big, you were dead wrong. This boy was hung as a horse. Well endowed to the max, he was easily packing eight inches and you couldn’t even fit your hands all away around his thick girth.

You stroked him as best as you could but judging by that guttural groan that erupted from his mouth, you’d say you were doing a pretty good job.

“Please!!” Midoriya begged, practically sobbing as you teased him and it was like music to your ears. “Please, Y/N, make me feel good!!”

“Yeah,” You whispered, suckling on the vein that ran on the underside of his stiff member. “You want me to make you cum, baby?”

“Yes, please!!” He cried, fisting the fabric of the sofa, remembering your rule not to touch you yet.

But it was killing him.

The foreplay had made you wet enough to take him and you weren’t keen on waiting another second longer.

Positioning yourself over his leaking head, the tip of his engorged shaft rubbed against your puffy folds as you pushed your thong to the side.

Midoriya’s eyes bulged out of his head as he saw the red lace and he couldn’t stop his hands from shooting to your waist as you threw your shirt up over your head, leaving you in that thin cami that left nothing to the imagination.

“F-Fuck—” You cursed as you sank down on him, thighs trembling from the effort of taking him. “Izuku, baby, you’re so big.”

He was rock hard and pressing against your inner walls just right. It had been so long since someone had filled you up like this and now that you had him, no one even came close to any of those prior.

Midoriya was huffing, moaning uncontrollably as the rush of pleasure he got by being encased in your tight heat so quickly. His hands gripped your hips, kneading the flesh of your ass as he started to rock you back and forth in his lap.

You completely ignored the fact that he disobeyed your order.

“Dumb baby,” You cooed softly. “Does that pussy feel good around your cock? Huh? Tell me.”

“Yes— hhgh, I love it so much, Y/N, you feel so tight, ahh!!” He mewled, unable to think of anything else except how good your cunny felt fluttering around him.

His face was beautifully flushed, unable to tear his gaze off of where his cock had disappeared into you. The sticky wetness smeared against his hip bones made your arousal evident and he was impossibly turned on at the vision in front of him.

You threw your head back as he took over control, gyrating your hips for you before you were even adjusted to his massive length. A breathy moan tumbled out of your lips as his fingers knotted their way into your hair, yanking it back so that your hips canted into him with every thrust.

“I-Izuku!!” You moaned loudly as he roughly and sporadically pounded into you.

You squealed as he pulled you down to his chest to get a better angle, all the breath vanishing from your lungs as he planted his heels and fucked up into you so fast that you would’ve fallen off from the force if he wasn’t holding onto you with an iron grip.

“Sorry, Y/N!!” He broke off with a whine and burrowed his face into your neck as you clenched around him, his hips stuttering. “But I’m about to—”

You shrieked as he released inside of you, painting your walls with his thick, milky white cum. Chest heaving, you pushed him down and straightened up, clicking your tongue.

“Such a selfish baby.” You crooned, controlling your breathing enough to put up a confident front. “I didn’t even get to cum yet.”

His eyes widened in horror at not satisfying you first. “Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t— Gah!!”

His earnest apology was interrupted as you began bouncing on him again, keen on reaching your high. His spent length twitched inside of you and he whimpered, eyes screwed shut at the pain.

“Y/N!! It… It hurts!!” Midoriya whimpered pitifully, his eyes screwed shut at the overstimulation.

“Aw,” Your smile was sadistic and you threw your ass back into his lap intentionally, causing him to throb within you. “Does it?”

“Yes!!” He cried out. “Fuck, please stop!!”

You pouted sadly, gyrating your hips faster. “But I haven’t even cum yet.”

It was too much. Your words spun with those sinful rocks of your hips was making a lethal mix of pain and pleasure shoot through his system and he whined, pawing at your hips.

“Y/N, please!!” He begged, unsure what he was begging for at this point.

It didn’t take long for him to get hard again. You weren’t sure if his short refractory period was a side effect of his power or the fact that he had just lost his virginity to you and wanted you again, but you were definitely going to oblige him either way.

Midoriya arched into your scalding touch as you leaned down to kiss him once again. Your soft lips and the hot cavern of your mouth distracted him as your tongues danced together and he almost forgot about the fact that he was balls-deep inside of you.

Until you started to move again.

His cry was muffled as you licked it out of his mouth before pulling away.

Your grin widened and you rocked your hips back and forth at a mind-blowing pace, reducing the blubbering boy beneath you into a whimpering mess.

But your confident façade soon vanished as his hands found purchase on your hips and bucked up wildly.

The grin slipped off your face and you whimpered, fingers splaying on his bare chest for balance as he went wild, fucking up into you with abandon.

You could do nothing else other than hold on and pray you wouldn't fall off of him as he took over.

Biting your lip, you desperately tried to regain control. “Izuku—”

He gritted his teeth, ignoring you and your eyes widened as green lightning started to surround his body.

Your eyes widened. “Wait—!”

He didn't.

Your head tipped back and the loudest scream you've ever produced ripped from your throat as he used One for All to completely destroy your pussy. But to your disbelief, he didn’t stop, he didn’t even slow down when you contracted around him.

His hips slammed up into yours at a breaknecking speed and tears blurred your vision as you cried out, sobbing with pleasure as he finally made you cum.

“Y/N, you’re milking my cock so much!!” Midoriya blurted out with a raspy moan as another orgasm spiraled to you and you shrieked, this one hitting harder than the last.

At some point, you blacked out.

When you came to, Midoriya was hovering over you worriedly, his green eyes glistening with concern as he called your name over and over again.

Sitting up with a groan, you realized that he had laid you down on the couch and covered you with a blanket.

“Y/N?” The boy asked, brushing the hair out of your eyes as he sat down by your side.

You offered him a smile, every bone in your body protesting as you sat up. Midoriya was helping you in a second, ignoring your feeble protests that you could do it yourself.

The next minute, he played with his fingers awkwardly.

“Was… Was it good for you?” He asked timidly, blinking his big eyes up at you.

You cracked a smile at how earnest he was. Cutie.

“Of course it was.” You murmured, planting a soft kiss on his forehead before staring straight into his eyes. “You know this means you're mine, right?”

Midoriya blinked his doe eyes, mouth parting slightly. “Eh?!”

You smirked. “Yup.”

“Really?!?!” He asked excitedly, leaning forward to stick his face close to yours and you giggled.

Adorable. Simply adorable.

“Yeah, baby.” You whispered, cupping his face and pecking his freckled cheek. He was so sweet. So pure.

You couldn’t wait to defile him more. Wait until he was exposed to the world of BDSM.

Licking your lips slyly, you smirked. “You’re all mine.”

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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@justadreamyhufflepuff: GSJSVSKSBSJD BABY CONGRATS- CAN I PLEASE GET A 🎠 -> Harry potter + soft love + fluff + prompts 9, 10, 32, 42 from prompt list 1. || for my 300 followers celebration

Prompts:

9. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

32. “Make a wish!”

42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Moving into your new house with Harry.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff but with slight and subtle mentions of sexual activities + let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: omg yay harry fluff :DDD ok sorry go ahead btw this hasn’t been proofread yet mbad

After years of setting things up, they could finally move into their house. Of course, there were some parts of it that still needed fixing but they’ll eventually work it out. Right now, they wanted to bask in the comfort and triumph of their own house.

“Got your key?” said [Y/N], holding out her own key. She had already attached a duck keychain to it.

“Got it,” replied Harry, showing her his own. They both sniggered at his ridiculous bathtub keychain, which looked undeniably out of place but she was glad for it nonetheless. See, she had bought it years ago when they first talked about getting a house. “Will you do the honors?”

“You know, we could easily Alohomora the heck out of this bas —”

“Do the honors,” he teasingly urged, poking her on the waist where her tickle spot was and she recoiled. “Do it, [Y/L/N].”

“Ha! I’m Potter now, too. Ergo you’re not so special anymore,” she said as she marched up the raised porch. It was a lovely sight indeed — she could already imagine inviting the others to come over: roasting marshmallows either here or at the backyard and such. She giddily walked towards the door. This is it, she thought. “Wait, this is unfair. You carry me as you open it so I’ll be like a pretty wife.”

“That you are,” said Harry as he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a whoop of approval, patting his cheek as he put the key in and swung the door open.

All their boxes were on the floor already, with a lot more scattered all over the house. “Ooh, this is a lot of work. Wanna sleep it off?” she yawned, kicking some boxes aside on her way to the stairs. “What, you gonna protest, Mr. Potter?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Potter,” said Harry, and they both stopped and looked at each other, eyes narrowed while scrutinizing the name. “Mrs. Potter.”

“Does it sound a bit weird to you? I mean, no offense. I mean, I’ve waited for this half of my life but — you know?

“Yeah, like, [Y/N] Potter,” he said again, making arm gestures as if parting a curtain. She started to laugh. “I see what you mean.”

“You look like a . . . getching shooba driver but on land,” she said with a yawn.

“A what?” This time, Harry was the one stifling his laughter.

“Glitching scuba diver on land,” spat [Y/N], taking off her jacket. When she saw he’d been eyeing her with a dazed expression on his face, she made a show of getting off her right jacket sleeve with a suggestive smile on her face. “Wait, uh, can’t get it off. Sweat, I think. Help?”

“Will do, will do,” said Harry, approaching her and reaching out to pull it off her with a tight smile in an awful attempt to keep his laughter.

“Whatever. Can we sleep now, please? Where’s our bed again?”

“There,” he pointed somewhere in the kitchen room.

“I thought our room was upstairs?”

“Our room is upstairs, the bed is here.”

“Why would that be the ca—oh, no. D’we really have to assemble it?” she whined. They had to travel by Muggle transportation due to issues with the Floo network and they wanted to minimize suspicion, and the it was finally taking its toll on their entire energy: [Y/N]’s back was cramping from the long ride, Harry’s head was already hurting like hell. To make matters worse, neighbors were peeking through their windows so they had to go inside immediately.

“No, we can just bring the mattress up and assemble it all tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a moan, tossing the jacket on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, are we — ?” He shrugged hesitantly.

“No! I mean, do you want to? Now?”

“Do you?” The two chuckled nervously. They were standing there for probably around half a minute or one when the doorbell dinged and the two of them jumped. [Y/N] volunteered to get it.

A woman younger than her for about a year stood in front of her doorstep when she swung the door open, carrying a tiny baby probably about a few months old in her arms. [Y/N] managed a friendly smile as she wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead.

“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Karolina Martin. I live right across and I brought you something!”

“The . . . baby?” [Y/N]’s shoulders tensed as she thought about this over an over until she realized that was highly unlikely.

“No! You’re hilarious, though. I like you. I actually came here to give you” — the woman put down a bag she hung over her shoulder down on the floor — “this.”

Inside was a basket with a bottle of what [Y/N] could only assume was fine wine or champagne or whatever it was couples with a number of chocolates and cookies inside. She realized with a start there was also a pot inside.

[Y/N] laughed, holding up the pot. “Funny, because we’re Potters?” she asked, setting it back down again.

“You are?” Karolina said, impressed. “So which do you suggest I should start with first? Stoneware or earthenware? Ooh, what about fire clay?”

It took a few seconds before [Y/N] realized the direction of the conversation. “Oh! Well, heh, not that kind of potter.”

Karolina flinched, eyeing [Y/N] with suspicion. “You smoke — ?”

“No! Not that kind of potter. We don’t smoke po—Sorry, that’s on me, I should have clarified. I’m [Y/N],” she said. Karolina still looked confused. Composing herself, she managed a tight smile. “[Y/N] Potter.”

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Karolina chuckled. “I was a bit confused, I’m really sorry. I haven’t met someone around here about my age.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the welcoming gift, by the way. I just moved in with my . . . husband.” It still sounded surreal to call Harry that way, but she liked it all the same. Her eyes fell on the chubby little kid.

“Right! This is baby Sydney, she’s turning six months old next week. Would be really nice if you and your husband could come — and kid or kids, if you have some?” Maybe it was the coos the baby made or her adorable eyes and hints of two teeth growing, but [Y/N] felt intimidated by the little kid. She was bigger than she thought babies would be. Is this what she’d push through her bottom? She shuddered. “Do you . . . want to hold her?” asked Karolina, oblivious to the thoughts going on in [Y/N]’s heads.

“Listen, I’m really grateful you stopped by but we’re kinda tired. I’m so, so, sorry! Thank you a lot for these stuff. We’ll definitely come by next week — me and Harry, just Harry and me.” [Y/N] chuckled nervously again, smiling at the baby.

“I totally understand. Me and Joey were also very tired when we first moved in, hence Sydney.” Karolina laughed. [Y/N] simply chimed in the laughter as well, not wanting to jeopardize a newfound friendship over a joke. “Have a lovely evening, [Y/N]. I’ll see you around!”

When she shut the door with the bag over her shoulder, she jumped in fright at the sight of Harry just behind the door with an amused grin on his face. “What?” said [Y/N] as she rubbed her eyes.

“Husband?” he mused. When she shot him a glare saying not to push it further, he resorted to giggling. “Sorry, my wife.”

“Shut up, Harry,” she said. “Now, where’s that damned mattress?”

“Worry not, I got it upstairs already, all we gotta do now is take a quick shower and go to bed.”

After they finished dressing into more comfortable clothes, they made it a point to plop down as hard as they could on the mattress. To her relief, Harry had settled a plain white bedsheet on top of it earlier while she was talking to Karolina. She was the first to jump in, stretching her legs all over. “Finally!” she exclaimed.

“Your turn,” she said, pointing at a spot right next to her. Harry took off his glasses and was about to jump in next when she asked where the pillows were.

“Er — Accio pillow!” She could hear the sound of boxes moving downstairs bumping each other when a pillow came hurtling in and landed on Harry’s chest, forcing him to plop down on the mattress.

A shrill squeak sounded, and the two of them froze. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him in accusation. “Did you fart?”

“No, we just still haven’t removed the plastic from the mattress.”

“You want to remove it?” she suggested, ready to get up and get her own wand when Harry gently nudged her back down.

“Okay, where’s my wand?“

[Y/N] looked left and right until she found it tying on an old bedside table he managed to set down earlier that day and said, “There! Bedside table.”

“Eh.”

“Agreed, let’s just say you did fart.”

“Agreed,” said Harry, who unconsciously wrapped his legs and arms around the pillow on top of him and closed his eyes to sleep. [Y/N] was quick to act. Not to take his pillow, but to turn him into one — metaphorically, of course. She laughed at the thought of using Transfiguration to turn Harry into a literal pillow.

Just as he wrapped his limbs around the only pillow, [Y/N] did the same to him. He woke up with a jolt, but did not take her off him. “I’m the little spoon?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, and I happen to like little spoons a lot,” she said casually. Harry turned his head in her direction, with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Okay, that sounded wrong. It’s just that you hogged the only pillow so now I’m using you as one.”

“Well, do you want it?” he offered obliviously.

“Nope, I like this set-up. Go back to sleep.”

And he did — they both did. At some point during the night, they turned each other into a pillow. Harry, however, awoke to the sound of her snoring. It wasn’t like his Uncle Vernon’s, though. Looking at her face seemed to dull it all out. It wasn’t exactly an endearing sound, but the sight of her was more than so — tousled hair, mouth slightly open. . . . With one last smile on his face as he watched her sleep, he felt himself drifting off into a deep slumber.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

A loud clanging from downstairs awoke Harry. Had he overslept? He found that his back ached whenever he did so much as move, but knew better than to bide his time if there was danger nearby. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand, but realized he had to put his glasses on first.

Harry ran downstairs, clutching his wand tightly with his outstretched hand as he listened for anything there was to hear. He paused. A stranger walked out of the kitchen, and he pointed his wand at them.

The stranger held their hands up with a bewildered look on their face until [Y/N] came out of the kitchen all sweaty with a frilly apron. “Harry!” she cried in bewilderment at the sight of him pointing his wand at their new neighbor. “Alright, uh, Karolina, this is my husband, Harry; Harry — stop pointing your . . . stick at her — this is our neighbor who lives across from us, Karolina.”

“Er — hello, Karolina. Sorry about the wa—” [Y/N] shot him a dirty look. “—ander. Wander. Sorry about the bad . . . wandering. You know what? I just woke up on the wrong side of bed and I got paranoid with the . . . new house and all.”

“He tends to get jumpy,” said [Y/N] in hopes of wrapping this up immediately. “Anyway, five minutes left till it’s done. Thank you so, so much for the help, Karol! One last thing, for the whipped cream, do I. . .”

He then noticed that some of the furniture were already arranged such as the sofa and the dining table. Some cabinets were decorated with non-magical framed pictures of them. Harry begged to disagree, though. Each picture there was more than just ma— Is that a baby? Sleeping in a car seat on their couch?

Harry blinked. It stirred, eyes fluttering open. Harry was now holding his breath in anticipation. It was watching him curiously. When he did not move, the little thing started to giggle. Smiling sheepishly back, he made a show of raking his hand through his hair and walking into the kitchen.

It was still messy, but the fridge was on now, and some condiments were put where they belonged.

Karolina was washing a bowl on the sink when the baby outside started crying. She washed her hands quick and ran out, excusing herself while smiling apologetically at the two of them.

[Y/N] opened the oven, pulling out something that smelled of a scent that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Is that Treacle Tart?” he blurted out.

[Y/N] almost dropped the pan of delight she held in her mittened hands. She cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain her composure as she set it down on the counter and pulled off her mittens. Still panting, she looked at him and said, “Harry, darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen.”

“Sorry,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss against her head.

“Don’t do that, my hair stinks. I haven’t showered yet,” said [Y/N].

“What do you mean? It smells just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s greasy. Is it greasy?”

“Yeah, you kinda look like Snape from where I’m standing. Ow! Sorry, bad joke. Okay, keep doing what you’re doing while I. . .” he trailed off as he grabbed her wrist gingerly and pulled off the scrunchie off it and started braiding her hair whilst she shook the whipped cream. “Could you just stop moving and let me braid your hair?”

“Oh, shut up! This tart’s for you, anyway.”

“So it is a Treacle Tart?”

“Uh, Doy,” she said mockingly. “It’s for your birthday, genius.”

“But it isn’t till next month,” said Harry.

“Eh, well, thought we could spend some time together in our new house without a crowd for a while. Why’re you even braiding my hair?”

“That baby got me thinking about it,” said Harry, as the child’s sobs started to cease. “You know, like . . . do you think we’re ready?”

“Well, what will be, will be.” She squeezed whipped cream on each side, scanning the final product with narrowed eyes. Harry tied the poorly-done braid with the scrunchie, letting her hair fall down to her back. [Y/N] turned to him. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared about the whole thing, you know? Like, aside from the . . . bloody pushing, it’ll be a huge responsibility. And I want to know if you’re up for it.”

“Okay,” he found himself saying so casually.

“Okay?” [Y/N] repeated to him, with an expression the combination of excitement and disbelief. “Okay as in, ‘okay let’s start trying?’”

“Okay, yes! Let’s start trying now!”

“Okay, but not right now, though,” said [Y/N] under her breath.

“Why not?” he said. Merlin, I have to stop.

“For one, Karolina’s right there at the doorway with Sydney.”

Harry shifted his gaze from [Y/N] to Karolina, who was now trying hard to stifle her laugh with a sleeping Sydney in her arms. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she said with a suggestive smile. “I’ll get going now, [Y/N], Harry.”

“Oh, you won’t try the Treacle Tart out?” called out [Y/N].

“Nah, we’ve eaten a lot of that already. We’re having cheesecake for tonight. Anyway, see you two.” With a friendly wave, she went off her way, leaving the two of them alone in their house.

Harry expected her to berate him, but she was already facing him with a slice of a tart resting neatly on a plate with a lousy candle set in the middle of it. “Make a wish,” she told him.

“Uh. . . I’m bad at wishes, you know that.”

“Then wish to be better at making wishes then make a better wish next month,” she said.

“Okay, I wish to be better at making wishes,” said Harry before blowing the candle out. [Y/N] pulled off the candle and lead him to the living room, where she put down the pan and separated the entire thing to put it on an adorable floral plate she loved.

“Happy super advanced birthday, Just Harry,” said [Y/N], kissing his head this time. “Have some Treacle Tart. I tried, okay?” Laughing, she put a fork on his plate and went to slice one for herself.

“Thank you, soft love,” said Harry as he helped himself to his slice. “Merlin, this is per—”

[Y/N] bursted into laughter, a couple crumbs spitting on the table. She had to get a tissue and wipe the table as she bellowed. “What’d you say?”

“Soft . . . love. Does that mean something bad?”

“No, no, no. It’s just funny to hear it from you. Say it again,” she said, resting her elbow on the top rail of a chair, eager to hear him.

“Soft love?” said Harry hesitantly.

“Oh my— Who told you to say that? Where’d you learn that?” choked [Y/N], wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Okay, sorry.”

“Er — you see, before we left to go here, Ron told me to experiment with . . . pet names.”

“So you delivered?”

“Do you not like it?” said Harry, his fork frozen in mid-air.

“Oh, I do. I so do,” she replied, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of tough love, I could use some soft love. But d’you know what it means?”

When Harry shook his head, she took one step forward to run her hand through his hair, grinning. “Means you accept all flaws instead of trying to build up a wall just to better and correct those flaws.”

“Then what’s so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity rather than annoyance.

“Oh, Harry. Nothing! I just find you trying new stuff very, very amusing. Moving in here was a good choice, you know. Now I get to find out new things about you,” said [Y/N].

Harry smiled back, his cheeks a tad warmer than usual. “So which do you prefer? Tough love or soft love?”

“Eh, a relationship can’t work with just one of the two. Both works. Now eat your slice before we get working on this house,” said [Y/N] as she snapped her fingers, picking up her own plate and savoring her own work. “Chop chop.”

“You mean home?”

“Yep, I mean home,” answered [Y/N] without any hesitation. Oh, and, just one small update: they didn’t remove the plastic wrap of the mattress until next week.

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enthusiasticharry · 3 years

Text

Lonely this Christmas

summary: you and Harry broke up earlier in the year, but at Columbia’s Christmas party you see each other again, and you both realise just how much you miss each other

author's note: ahhhh i don’t think i've ever been so excited to post one of my works as i am this one and i hope you all enjoy my baby. the reader in this is musician!yn and i have so many other ideas for the little story line, so if you'd like to hear them, please let me know!

word count: 11k of baso angst, really fluffy fluff and some of the best smut I think i’ve ever written. there’s deepthroating... face-sitting... really just the whole shebang.

masterlist | please speak to me about LTC here!

You truly believed that Christmas was the best time of the year.

You loved everything about the festive time of year. From decorating the house, to listening to the music. From spending time with your family, to cosying up on the sofa and watching Christmas films. It was a special time of year, where everyone seemed to relax and walk around with joyous looks on their faces because no matter the year they’d have, it was nearly over and it’s finally time to celebrate the best aspects of the time that had passed.

You found yourself thankful for the year, but also thankful that it was over. This year had been one of the best, but also one of the worst years of your life. The thing that caused the year to not be the best that it could was the split you had with your long-term boyfriend. It was messy, and absolutely heartbreaking on your side and because it was such a big part of the year, it became one of the memories that you wished to ignore but you found yourself struggling too. On a brighter side, you had won your first Brit award this year for Best New Artist. It was a turning point in your career, for certain.

One thing that you’ve never enjoyed about Christmas is parties. You would much rather stay within the walls of your own house and spend your evenings alone, but being in the industry that you are it becomes a little harder. The Columbia Christmas Party happen’s every year, but this was you first year signed to the Record Label, so the first year you had been invited. You were shocked to be invited, but found yourself to be excited and dreading the experience all at once.

The thing that you found yourself thinking and worrying about the most was what you were going to wear. You wanted to impress everyone there, since you had found this new stardom for yourself and you had created this name for yourself which you hadn’t had before. After consulting with your stylist, you settled on a custom Gucci dress that was made for you to wear specifically to this event. The dress itself was a Christmas-green velvet material, which landed to about your mid-thigh with a square neckline. Attached to the square straps of the neckline, were tulle sleeves of the same colour that bunched at your wrists. It hugged your curves perfectly and once you’d added your black scrappy heels you really felt beautiful. Your natural features are accentuated, and you, for the first time in a long time, feel beautiful within your own skin.

That all changed the second you walked into the party.

You felt as though all eyes were on you, as though everyone was watching every step that you took to see what you’d do. It made you feel uncomfortable and immediately feel as though the dress you are wearing wasn’t right, it was too short and you needed to cover up. You were maybe 98% certain that they weren’t thinking about what you were wearing, but more so who you’ve just clocked eyes with.

You knew he was going to be here, and you had prepared yourself for the inevitable, but seeing him stood there completely changed everything that you had prepared for. You both were signed to the same record label, years after the two of you had met though, so it was no surprise that he was sat at one of the tables with a group of people around him as he spoke and laughed at what they were all taking about.

You tried to ignore the pinch within your heart, but it was hard. You weren’t the one who broke it off, and if things had gone according to your plan, you would still be together right now.

You had met Harry a few years ago, when you had first moved to London and you were bar and pub hopping, singing and hoping that you’d somehow stumble upon someone who could help you start your career. It was completely by accident that you both had met, and looking back at it quite embarrassing on your part. You were in the middle of your set when he walked in, as well as Mitch and Sarah, but you hadn’t seen them at that point. You had recently learnt how to play Sign of the Times on the piano and you had purposely brought your small keyboard out with you so you could play the song. Looking back on it, you probably wouldn’t have sung the song if you did know that he was there, but you didn’t know so you sung it. It was a little shaky at the start due to your nerves about playing the song for the first time out of the comfort of your room but you quickly found your groove, and you finished strong. Harry had later told you that, after a little bit of teasing from Mitch and Sarah, he knew that from how in awe he was of you he just had to speak to you. He walked up to you whilst you were in the middle of throwing your celebratory shot back that you always take after finishing your set and the first thing you ever said to him was, “Fuck!”

You always thought that would be a story you’d be able to tell your grandchildren, and you both had even spoken about it, but it just hadn’t worked out.

He seemed okay, which you were happy about. His new album had just come out, and you don’t think you’ve ever cried at a record as you did at that one. You knew it was about you, it was hard not to. All of the little hints that he left throughout his songs would blow over anyone else head, but you knew the true meaning of them and you think that’s one of the reasons you found it so emotional. He was smiling as he spoke to the people, briefly taking sips of his drink every now and then, which was only water so you wondered whether he’d drove there. You both would be flying home soon, but this would be the first time in three years that you’d be flying home alone.

To stop yourself from crying, you quickly make you way over to the bar. After running your eyes over the cocktail menu, your eyes immediately pricked at the sight of one, and you could stop the words as they left your lips: “A cherry bomb fizz please.”

You watched as the bartender added a cherry and some maraschino liqueur, before topping the drink off with Champagne. The drink was quite sour, but you quite liked it. It caused your lips to purse and eyebrows to widen, in a good way you must add.

“Could never handle your alcohol, could you?”

You could feel him before you heard him, but you didn’t want to turn around. Why he felt it okay to come up and talk to you were unsure about, but at the same time you had been hoping that he would. Why you were hoping that he would you were also unsure about, but you’re certain it had something to do with the fact that you weren’t quite over him.

“I think you’re mistaken.” You say, taking another sip of your drink, “You were the one who could never handle your alcohol. And this is just sour.”

He hums, as though he isn’t believing a word that you say, “If you say so, love.”

“Love?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him whilst throwing back the rest of your drink, “Thought those days were well over.”

“Force of habit, ‘suppose.” He shrugs, “I have a few of them when it comes to you.”

“You grew out of them.” I shrug, “Can’t remember the last time you called me love whilst we were together.”

He drops his eyes to the counter, and you know you’ve done what you’re supposed to. This is the first time you’ve spoken to since you broke up, and you can’t believe that it’s at a Christmas party of all places. He also had the audacity to call you love, something that you couldn’t believe he had the balls to do. The last few months of your relationship you were lucky if he even looked at you, and here he now was calling you love as though it’s totally okay to do so.

“I’ll always call you love.” He says, lifting his eyes up from the counter to look at you once more, “I’ll always care about you.”

“Where was this five months ago?” You ask, unable to stop yourself.

Your break up, in your opinion, came out of nowhere. You knew something had changed in your relationship, since he hardy had the time for you at the end of your time together. He’d get up in the morning and wouldn’t touch, or even kiss you. Then, when he’d come home it would be the exact same thing, he’d slip into bed and to stop yourself from feeling as though you were going to cry, you’d pretend you were asleep and hope that you’d actually fall asleep. He never told you a reason for breaking up with you, apart from that he needed space and that he couldn’t be with you. That was probably the thing that hurt you the most. He broke up with you, but you never really had a real reason why.

“I just needed to leave.” He says, “That was my main focus.”

You try to ignore your heart breaking all over again but it’s hard to, when it’s the only thing you can think about.

“Why now?” You say, “Why are you doing this now?”

“YN—”

You shake your head, “I don’t think I want to hear it. I’m going to go.”

“Don’t—”

“—YN!” You feel an arm thrown around your shoulder, one that you immediately realise is Jeff once you register his voice and his face once you turn to him, “I haven’t seen you in months! How are you?”

You can immediately tell that he’s drunk. From the slight slurring of his words, to the smell of alcohol on his breath as he speaks. You’re just as shocked to see him as he is to see you.

“I’m good, Jeff, thanks.” You smile, at him, trying to push the conversation you’ve just had with his friend out of your mind, “How are you?”

“I’m drunk.” He laughs, squeezing your shoulder slightly, “But! I’s nice to see you two together again!”

The whole ignoring the situation doesn’t quite go to plan. Once he’s said those words you immediately draw your eyes towards Harry. You’ve never wanted to leave a conversation as much as you did this one. You look at Harry, but he isn’t looking at you.

He gasps, “You should come over to the table! We’re all here and it’ll just be like old times.”

“I couldn’t possibly. . .” You shake your head.

“You can!” He says, “Come on, I won’t take no for an answer! And H, hurry up with those drinks.”

Jeff walks you away from the bar and towards the table that you noticed earlier when you noticed Harry for the first time this evening. Glenne, Mitch and Sarah are there, as well as Kid and a few other producers that you recognise from working on Harry’s album, as well as a few songs from yours also. You knew that just because you and Harry broke up you couldn’t expect the friendships that had formed because of you two to just stop altogether.

“YN!” There’s a course of cheers and Sarah’s the first to stand up and wrap her arms around you. Out of everyone, Sarah was the person who you were closest with out of Harry’s band. She had joined Harry’s band after you and Harry had been dating for a year or so when Sarah joined the band, and you two instantly clicked and became the closest of friends. You had spoken a few times with her since you had broke up, but nothing compared to what you used to. You weren’t surprised though, she was Harry’s drummer first and your friend after — or that’s what you told yourself to make you feel slightly better.

“Hi.” You smile, dropping down into the spare seat next to Sarah. Words are thrown around the table of glee that you’re there, as well as questions as to why you haven’t been in contact. You know they’re drunk, and you suspect that is why they’re saying all of the things they are. You were quick to fall out of the conversation as it moved onto the show that they did the day prior to celebrate the release of Harry’s album. You suppose the reason your feelings were so heightened today was due to your hearing the album for the first time yesterday and then replaying it today.

It was completely different to Harry Styles but still so Harry. You hated how his music made your feel, the sad and the happy ones, as well as all in between. Harry returned to the table shorty after clutching drinks in his hands, and under his arms. Why he didn’t just make two trips, you would never know, but it’s lucky that all the drinks made it without any spillages.

“We were just talking about yesterday.” Glenne says, taking a sip of her drink as she does before turning towards you, “Have you heard the album, YN?”

“You don’t have too—” Harry turns to your briefly.

“I have.” You nod, “It’s good, a masterpiece even. You should be proud of it, H.”

You can see his shoulder tense, and from knowing him as well as you do, you wouldn’t be surprised if his heart just sunk to the bottom of his stomach. If you’ve listened to the album, it means that you’ve heard the song that Harry hoped you hadn’t.

“What would you say is your favourite?”

You look directly at him as you say the next words, and you hope he listens to them, “Probably Cherry.”

The other’s carry on talking as though you hadn’t said anything at all, but Harry doesn’t open his mouth again. He doesn’t stop looking at you though, and the way you look gorgeously defeated. A part of him wondered whether he was the one who caused you to be this way. About a month ago he asked some producers he knew that were working on your album with you how you are, and they said that you just seemed sad. It broke him to hear those words, just the words he had said to you all those months ago had broken you. Out of the blue, probably not but due to you not paying any attention, the group all move in, including you and Harry to have a reminiscent group photo.

He does open his mouth again when the group disperse to the dance floor, leaving the two of you all alone at the table.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t lift your eyes up from the end of the table cloth you’re messing with, an exasperated laugh leaving your lips, “What for? Breaking up with me? Taking everything from me? Or, I don’t know, using that in your song?”

“I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“You thought I wouldn’t mind.” You shake your head, completely baffled at his words, “Why would you think that? I trusted you with that, and now it’s on the end of one of your songs.”

“I’m sorry about everything, but especially that.” He says, and you can tell he’s being genuine with the look in his eyes. He looks as though he’s about to cry.

“Why did you do it?” I asks, “You could’ve asked me. I would’ve said yes, I swear to you.”

“I was nervous.” He says, “We didn’t leave on the best of terms, and I felt as though asking would’ve have been the best.”

“So you decided to do it anyway?”

“Will you forgive me, please?” He asks, and you can tell his voice is about to break, “Please.”

“That’s it, Harry.” You say, “I don’t think I can.”

The next morning you awake with a slight hangover, which wasn’t surprising because once you’d left quickly after saying your last words to Harry, and opened a bottle of vodka that you had in your cupboard. That bottle now sits on your bedside table, three-quarters of it drunk and the cause of your hangover. You were thankful that you hadn’t gotten too drunk before you left the party, due to the wraths of paparazzi that were there as you left. You remember leaving with your head down, ignoring their calls and questions, as well as their their cameras flashed at you. You had gotten into your car, your driver had smiled at you and the second the car started moving away from the club you found yourself unable to stop the tears that streamed down your face.

This wasn’t the first time that you’d done this since you’ve broken up with Harry, but this was certainly the worse you’ve felt since you’ve done so. Your head had its own heartbeat, and you felt as though your were stable on your feet as you trudged towards the kitchen to have some orange juice, your remedy for your hangovers to say the least. It was always something that Harry thought ahead about when you were together. If he knew that the two of you were going out he’d always stock up the fridge. The amounts of time since that you’ve gotten drunk and not had any orange juice within the house is quite atrocious and he knew from experience that they never ended well.

You drink your first glass of the drink quickly, and pour your second one before making you way back into your bedroom. Due to the amount of time you spent in LA, you had purchased your second apartment here, your first being in London. It wasn’t the nicest ever, but it was good enough for you when you were here, and something that you were thankful to have when you woke up from nights like these.

You fall back down upon your bed and the first you think you pick up is your phone, shocked at the thousands of notifications your found on it. You’re still slightly asleep so you rub your eyes a few times before clicking upon the instagram app. The thousands of notifications are dm’s and comments upon your photos. After clicking through the notifications, you find the culprit sat with a lovely love heart emoji on Glenne’s story.

At some point that morning, probably whilst you were growing your sorrows away with vodka, she had posted the photo of you all on her story with the caption ‘the band’s back together,’ a heart emoji and tagged you in it. All the messages were asking whether you and Harry were back together again, not because you’d ever gone public with your relationship, but Harry had gone public with your breakup in his interview with the Rolling Stones and with Zane Lowe. He was very respectful in the way that he spoke about it, which was all you ask for. You hadn’t actively gone out to watch and read what he was saying, but your manager had warned you about them before you had done some interviews and you were curious to say the least what they were about.

In the photo you could tell that you and Harry were the only ones who were sober. Everyone else had drunken grins on their faces whilst you and Harry, to say the least, had very uncomfortable smiles across both of your lips. It annoyed you slightly that the two of you couldn’t even be in the same place anymore without having messages upon messages about whether or not you’re back together. Anyone with a brain could see that you certainly weren’t just by the expression on both of your faces.

You weren’t annoyed, or angry that the photo had been posted because you wouldn’t have taken the photo if you didn’t want it to be posted, but you did take the photo. You were always taking photos together before the breakup, and photo booths were you speciality. It’s another thing that you had hardly done since the breakup, so it was nice to see the photo but deep down a part of you wished that it hadn’t have been taken.

It’s all over all of the social media’s, and you decide that it’s probably best if you just put your phone down. You’re about place it on your bedside table when a notification pops up on the top of your screen, and without thinking, you tap on it, sending you straight to the messages app and to who had sent you the message.

Harry: YN?

Why he was sending you a message in the first place, you had no idea. Why he was messaging your so early in the morning was also something that confused you even more.

Harry: I know you’re reading this.

Harry: Your read receipts are on.

You curse yourself for being so click-happy when you see a notification, and more so for having your read receipts on because you know you can remove them but you don’t quite know how to. You contemplate for a few seconds what to say in your drunken, tired haze, before typing out the message:

YN: Can I help you?

His reply comes in a few seconds later.

Harry: Are you free?

YN: Why?

Harry: Meet me at Beachwood. Usual time.

YN: Why should I?

Harry: Just be there. Please.

YN: I will.

When you walk down the pavement towards the Beachwood Cafe, its as though you’re doing so without actually thinking about it. When you and Harry were together — this was your place. You can’t even remember the amount of dates the two of you have had here, tucked away in the corner whilst the music played, chatting away endlessly about things that popped into each of your minds. It got to the point that when you two were free, and managed to get to go, you had been that much that the waitresses knew your order by memory. The first time they had done it, you remember the way you both smiled sheepishly at each other and back at the waitress.

It was decorated for Christmas. You could see a tree in the corner of the cafe, as well as lights and tinsel across the windows. If you weren’t so nervous you probably would have smiled at the sight of it.

You push the door open and hear the familiar ding of a bell that rings whenever someone walks through, and you’re catapulted back to last year when you did the exact same thing but with a smile on your face from your excitement of seeing your boyfriend, one who you cared and loved very much.

The low hum of Mud’s Lonely this Christmas fills the room, very apt for the current situation and you’re guessing the mood of the conversation you’re about to have. It was late, close to closing time but you and Harry found that to be the best time to come, because hardly anybody else did.

He’s already sat at your usual table, the one in the corner because the two of you often liked to people watch. It had started off a silly game once when you were both tired and didn’t really want to talk about your lives, so you started brainstorming what other people’s were like. As much as you hated to admit it, Harry’s stories were always the better of the two of you but you didn’t mind, because you could little to the words he spoke to you for every minute for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t mind.

He’s already gotten your drinks, you can see the two glasses upon the table in front of him. You pull out the chair, making him look up from his phone at you. You can see his features immediately soften at the sight of you stood there.

They always used to do that.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You don’t reply, “I got you a peppermint hot chocolate. I know It’s one of your favourites.”

It was one of your favourites, and you haven’t been able to have one in a while because, surprise surprise, they remind you of Harry, and the time you used to spend together.

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the drink and taking a sip of the hot liquid, dropping it back down and looking at him directly in the eyes, “Why did you invite me here?”

He clears his throat, and the movements of his elbows suggest he’s wiping his hands upon his trousers.

“I want to apologise. For everything, this time.” He says, and you watch as he places his hands back upon the table, messing with the rings on his hand. He still wore the one you got him for your anniversary a year ago, “For how I acted yesterday, the day we broke up and the months before hand. I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for it, but I just hope that you accept my apology.”

“I do.” You say, after a couple of seconds of contemplation, knowing that there was no point to having this dragged out for any longer than it already was, “I just want to know why, that’s all I want.”

“I.” He stops and lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know, if I’m honest with you. I was just so investing into getting the album finished, and for some reason in my mind I thought that it would be best if I was single to do that.”

“Why would you think that?” You ask, the tears brimming on your waterline.

“I don’t know. The second I watched you walk out of the door, and when you didn’t turn around to look again but just drove away, I knew I’d messed up.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You choke back a sob, trying to be quiet to not draw attention to the two of you, “You should’ve stopped me. Explained. I love you Harry, I would have done anything to help you. You needed space, I would’ve given it to you. You needed me, I would’ve been there.”

He drops his head, “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you?” You suck in a breath and bite your head to stop anymore sounds from escaping, “You let me leave. You watched me leave. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I felt guilty. I’d just broken up with you, love, do you really think that it would’ve been a good idea for me to all of a sudden say I wanted you back?”

Silent tears stream down your face, “You had months to, Harry. Months. You did nothing.”

“And it’ll be the biggest regret of my life, YN, I promise you.” He says, and you can tell that he’s trying to stop himself from crying, “It will be. I’ve been a mess without you.”

You still love Harry, and you know that you do, and you hate seeing him so upset. You believe that’s why you reach forward to take his hand in yours.

“I have too.”

Somehow, you and Harry had been booked on the same flight home, and you managed to get seats next to each other. Spending that time next to each other was good, you believed. It gave you the opportunity to properly speak and catch each other up on everything that had happened. Harry had apologised, yet again, for everything that had happened and you had too. You gushed over his album once you had done, and that was when he invited you to the Secret London Show he was holding at the Electric Ballroom.

That takes you to now, stood in front of your mirror looking over your outfit to make sure that it was presentable enough. You knew you had to look presentable, but it wasn’t as fancy as the Christmas party. You dressed yourself in a long sleeved black lace top, and paired it with some black jean flares and your docs. Simple, yet quite effective in the grand scheme of things.

You were nervous to say the least about what what the evening was going to hold, especially since Gemma and other people who you hadn’t seen since the two of you broke up were going to be there. You weren’t exactly prepared, and if they asked you any questions you’d have no idea about what to say, but once you had brought that up with Harry, he said to just answer with the truth, which you were going to.

The entire way to the electric ballroom you were nervous, your heart was beating out of you chest and you felt as though you shouldn’t have been going. You thought that up until you arrived, when you walked backstage to see Harry and Gemma stood talking whilst Harry was getting ready. Once he saw you, his features rose into a smile and yours did too, and you walked over to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“YN!” You could hear the shock in Gemma’s voice as she noticed that it was you and she immediately stood up and wrapped her arms around you, “I haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

“I’m okay, thanks Gem.” You smiled, pulling away and tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “How are you?”

“I’m amazing.” She says, “I certainly didn’t expect you to be here. Are you two back together? Please tell me that you are.”

Instead of answering straight away, you turn to look at Harry briefly. You both knew exactly what was running through your brains, and the way you both smiled at each other made that completely obvious. He nodded, and then you knew exactly what to say.

You grin and turn back to Gemma, “Trying to.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She wraps you in another hug, “He was a mess without you, and I know you were a mess without him. You’re soulmates. I can’t believe he even did it in the first place.”

“I think we all couldn’t.” You laugh.

“Hey!” Harry whines from the chair beside the two of you, “I made a mistake, we all get it.”

You and Gemma laugh and from then it’s like the past six months hadn’t happened and you were still the best of friends. That was one thing about being with Harry, you loved his family just as much as you loved him. Gemma was like a sister to you, and she was even when you broke up but you just hadn’t seen her. Anne, well she was like a second mother to you. She always made sure to make you feel included at family gatherings, and she even came to stay with you sometimes when Harry went away for a while and you couldn’t go with him. You had missed Harry the most during this time, but Anne and Gemma were two people that you had also missed more than anything.

The majority of people make their way to where they’re watching the show soon after, but you tell Gemma that you’ll meet her on the balcony later because you wanted to have a quick word with Harry. He was in the middle of shrugging his jacket upon his shoulders when you walked through the door, and he immediately stopped his movements and turned to look at you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Everything okay?”

You shrug and bite your lip, stepping for arms a few steps towards him, “Just wanted to see you.”

You find your eyes flicking up and down his body, taking in the monochrome yellow suit he had on with a black tie. You always loved and supported Harry’s wardrobe choices, and you had missed in the time you hadn’t been with him picking them out with him. You felt as though this was an excellent choice.

“You look amazing.” He says, taking a few steps forward so that you’re directly in front of each other. You watch as he lifts his hands up, about to place them on your waist but he stops himself and drops his arms back down. Without hesitation you grab his wrists and place them upon your waist. His eyes widen, but the second he feels your skin underneath his hand, just separated by the thin material of your lace top.

“Thank you.” You bite your lip and wrap your fingers around his tie, lightly picking up the material, “You look so handsome, H.”

He almost lets out a sob at your words, but he quickly stops himself and smiles at you. Without thinking, you lean forward and press your lips upon his. They feel so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. You want to cry. You’ve dreamt of this for months, the feeling of having him this closer to you again, and from the way he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you even closer to him, so that your body is fully flushed against his. You pull away with a smile and immediately drop your head to his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist under his jacket and hugging him close to you. You finally feel a tear escape from your eye.

“I’ve missed you so much, H.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

He sings the entire Fine Line album from start to finish, and from how much you’ve listened to the album you actually know the majority of the words. You sing and dance away with Gemma, posting instagram stories of the two of you, and then one of how proud you are of Harry. You don’t need to explain yourself, there certainly isn’t a need to so you do so without any hesitation. You realise you’ve missed watching him perform, the way he can entertain a crowd with his talents has always been something you’d been jealous of. You’ve done shows here and there but because your album isn’t due to be out until the start of next year, when you plan to do your first world tour, and even though you try your hardest, you don’t feel as though you’ll ever be able to work a crowd the way he does. Where Stormzy came from, you still have no idea, since you hadn’t seen him downstairs but all of a sudden he’s singing Vossi Bop with Harry and your watching with your mouth dropped open in shock as he does so.

You and Harry make the executive decision to go to Harry’s house after the concert. It’s how you both found yourselves sat on Harry’s sofa, a glass of wine in each of your hands. You head is leant against the back of the sofa, whilst Harry’s hand leans upon the back of it, running his fingers through your hair. It’s comforting, and the smile hasn’t left your face since he started to do it.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, moving his hand from your hair to run his finger along your cheekbone, then down until he’s running it across your lips, “I can’t believe I ever pushed you away. You were my girl. I was going to marry you, I needed to marry you, still do.”

“I’m back now.” You whisper back, lifting your hand to place on his cheek, “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how hard you try and push me away, I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t want you too.” He shakes his head, “I’ll never want you too again.”

Without really thinking, you take the glass out of Harry’s hand and place both of yours upon the table in front of you, listening to the sound as glass meets glass. He leans back on the sofa with a puzzled look, immediately realising what is happening when you move to straddle his hips, placing your hands upon his shoulders to steady yourself. His hands fall upon the small of your back, his hands dragging up and down to tease your skin.

You lean forward, moving so that your faces are inches apart. You knock his nose slightly with yours, causing his cheeks to curl upwards with a smile before you capture it with your lips. immediately responds by kissing your back, pushing his body so that it’s placed even closer to yours if it’s physically possible.

Without a warning you pull away from him, slipping off his lap so that you’re on your knees in front of him. His eyes never leave yours as you so, and he immediately opens his legs so that you can slip in between them, his finger running over his bottom lip as he watches you.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Want to feel you.” You reply, resting your hands upon his thighs, “Want to feel you in my mouth. Can I?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

You feel excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and with shaky hands you move to unfasten his belt, and unbutton and unzip his trousers without much struggle. He lifts his hips up so that you can manoeuvre his trousers down and off his legs, leaving him in his black boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of the tent within the flimsy material, already growing and ready for you. You feel slightly overwhelmed that after so long of waiting, and wanting him to be in front of you again, he actually is.

“Already so hard for me, H.” You say, running your hand over the fuzz upon his bare thighs, “Have you thought about this as much as I have.”

“I thought about it everyday.” He replies, quickly at that, “It’s etched in my brain, the sight of you on your knees for me.”

You bite your lip as your grin, leaning to press a kiss to his stomach, just above the happy little trial that slips underneath the hem of his boxers. You feel his stomach tense underneath your lips, especially when you hook your fingers into the hem of his boxers, wiggling the material down until you can completely take it off once he’d lifted his hips again. He’s fully hard for you, and you can feel your stomach doing little flips in excitement for what is going to happen.

Sex, as it is in most relationships, was a big part of yours and Harry’s. It’s important that couples are comfortable with each other when revealing such intimate parts of themselves, and you and Harry were. If any of of you wanted to try anything, you could do so because of how comfortable you felt with each other. Whenever the other wanted to try anything, you’d do so without any hesitation and in such a way that you both enjoyed it. You both had your kinks, and your shared ones, and over the courser of your relationship you both explored those feelings. You were just happy that even though you had spent such time away from each other, you could still feel that confidence bubbling between the two of you, and those feelings bubbling between each other. Harry made you feel a way no other human being has ever been able to, and you were thankful because you felt as though you’d never be able to find that with anyone else, and now you didn’t have to worry because you were back together.

“You ready to take me in your mouth baby.” He says, placing his hand upon your cheek, “Ready to take me the way you used to.”

“Always, baby.”

Your tongue slips from between your lips and you lick a stripe up his throbbing cock, causing a low groan to escape through Harry’s lips. You can’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that you had caused that. Another groan escapes his lips once you wrap your lips around his tip completely, taking it into your mouth and you can help but giggle slightly. He smiles down at you and pulls your hair up so that it’s off of your face, making a makeshift ponytail to help move you up and down his cock.

“Look so good with my cock in your mouth.” His tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips, “Always could take me so well. Show me, baby, show me how deep you can go.”

You comply, taking him as deep as you can until you can feel him in the back of your throat. You eyes start to water, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. You hold for as long as possibly can before he lightens his touch and allows you to pull away. A string of saliva connects you two together as you and you wipe your lips with the back of your hand to remove it.

“Can you do it again?” He asks and you sheepishly nod, flicking your eyes between his throbbing member and him a few times before wrapping your lips back around him, “Fuck, baby, no one can do this like you can. No one.”

His words spur you on and you deep throat him as far as you possibly can before you need to gasp for air, taking a few seconds before starting to bob your head again, taking a few seconds at each time to run your tongue over his throbbing tip, collecting some of the salty pre-come that had started to bubble there.

“So good to me.” He lets you stop for a minute, and you place your head upon his thigh so that you can catch you breath. It was almost as though he knew that you needed to take a breather. You had the slight problem of always trying to do more than you’re able too and you almost always end up loosing too much of your breath, “Even though I’m an absolute twat. You’re always so good to me.”

“You deserve it.” You say, your throat a little coarse from your actions before.

“I don’t.” He shakes his head, “I broke your heart.”

You hesitate for a few seconds, “But you’re fixing it.”

“I shouldn’t have broken it in the first place.”

You move so that your higher up and able to place a kiss to his lips, whispering against them, “You’re fixing it.”

He kisses you back with more passion than before, moving his hand to grip under your thighs so that he can pick you up and place your on his. His fingers tug at the hem of your lace shirt, so you detach your lips so that you can pull it over your head. He groans at the sight of your bare chest to him, your nipples hardening into stiff buds at the feeling of the cold air immediately on your skin.

“No bra?” He presses a few open mouthed kisses to your neck, “You’ve been with me all evening, and I never even fucking noticed that you didn’t have a bra on.”

“You used to have a special talent for noticing when I didn’t have a bra on.” You giggle, sighing slightly at the feeling of his lips on his neck, and then the subtle feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.

“I must’ve lost my touch. But don’t worry.” He pulls away and looks you directly in the eye, “I’ll soon get it back.”

“Of course you will.” You laugh, but he stops it with his lips. The first time you and Harry kissed, you were so nervous. You felt as though you were going to mess up and he’d never want to kiss you again. You were completely wrong, and he actually ended up saying that it was one of the best kisses of you life. You couldn’t believe his words, and since then you completely found yourself wanting his lips to be on yours. Just as they were now, his tongue slipping between your lips and the feeling always transporting the two of you to where it’s just you, and you have the time in the world to kiss as much as you want to.

He moves his kisses down your neck, leaving sloppy ones against your skin until he was at the curve of your breast. Harry was a boob man, you knew that for a fact. As much as he loved to hold onto your ass every now and then, you always noticed that he spent the majority of his time focusing on your boobs. Whether it be sucking blemishes into the plushly skin whilst you fucked, or laying his head on them as you both calmed down from your activities, he always, without fail, focused on your boobs.

He knew that if he attacked your nipples skilfully with his tongue, he could have your dampening your panties and clenching your thighs together so much that he couldn’t resist it. He starts by wrapping his lips around your right nipple, tugging on the flesh slightly with his lips before letting it go with a pop.

“Fucking love your tits, love.” He sighs and you giggles slightly before gasping at the feeling of his pinching your other nipple with his fingers, “Fit in my hands, and in my mouth, so nicely.”

You moan in response to his words and throw your head back as he wraps his lips around your other one, sucking and sending flutters all the way down to your core. You wanted him, yearned for him, and you were beginning to grown inpatient.

“Can we go to your bedroom?” You run your fingers through his hair and pull his head back so that he’s looking at you, “Bedroom.”

“Is that where you want it?”

“Want it in your bed.” You say, placing your hand upon his cheek, “Our bed.”

He stands up with you still on him, your legs wrapped around him as he carries your upstairs. You rest your head upon his shoulder so he can look over yours and direct you safely to the comforts of his bedroom.

This place didn’t hold the best of memories from the last few months of your relationship but if you ignored that and focused on the positives, you had some of your best times in this room. It was a place where the two of you could completely be yourselves, and have a place to call yours. The pillow talk that occurred in this room was out of this world, and it was where you planned your future. One that was put on hold briefly but now seemed to be ready for the two of you again.

“Will you strip for me?” He asks as he places your down in the room, “I want to watch you slip out of those jeans, baby.”

You nod but at first undress him. You slip the jacket from his shoulders, skilfully loosen his tie and pull it over his head. Next is his shirt which you start to unbutton, but Harry grows impatient and rips it off, the buttons flying in all sorts of directions.

“Harry!”

“Oops?” He laughs, sitting down on the bed.

You had given Harry one strip tease before, for his birthday a year ago and it had gone down a treat. You had dressed up in your fanciest lingerie, which happened to be a black set that he had bought specifically for you for your birthday with ‘Styles’ embroidered on the inside. There was something, for the both of you, that you loved about seeing his name all over your the undergarments you wore. Whenever you wore them out in public, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, as though you were hiding a naughty secret that you didn’t want anyone to know about.

“Are you going to?” He urged, not taking his eyes off you’re, “I’m waiting.”

“Might make you wait a little longer.” You smile, running your fingers along the hem of your jeans, “Seeing as though you left me waiting for how long?”

“Don’t tease.”

“Why?” You shrug, “That was your speciality, wasn’t it?”

He had a love for teasing you, always had done. From the first time the two of you had sex, you knew he liked to tease. He liked to tease you all over, having your body withering under his touch until you couldn’t help but beg for him to touch you. You had a slight suspicion that he enjoyed hearing you beg for him, whimpering under his touch until you were crying for him to touch you. You remember that once, he had been teasing you all day whilst you had been out and about, but once you had gotten home he was teasing you so badly, overstimulating you over and over until you were crying for him to make your come.

“Just strip, my love.” You laugh and his words and unfasten the button to your jeans, turning around so that your ass is facing him, pulling your jeans down to reveal your black lace panties to him. You’re not surprised when he smacks his hand to the flesh of your ass, causing you to turn around with a gasp.

“That wasn’t nice.” You move so that you’re straddling him again.

“When have I ever been nice?” He raises his eyebrows, “I don’t think you want me to start now.”

He leans forward and places his lips to yours again, his body falling back upon the bed so that you’re hovering above him. His fingers run down from the small of his back, to her ass again until he’s gripping the flesh between his fingers, quite harshly you must say so which goes straight to your core. You know that the front of your panties are ruined by your wetness, and you know for certain that Harry does also.

“Sit on my face.” He mumbles against your lips.

“What?” You whisper back.

“Sit on my face.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Wanna eat that pretty cunt, want to have you trembling above me.”

You would squeeze your thighs together, but you can’t because of his body between yours. You nod your head and clamber off him, pulling your underwear down your legs quickly. You move up the bed until you’re next to his head, spreading your legs and placing your knees on either side of his head. His hands grip your thighs, dancing his fingers along your thighs.

“Please, H.” You say, pushing his hair off of his forehead as you look down at him.

“Didn’t think you’d be begging so soon, baby.” He chuckles, pressing a few kisses upon your cheeks.

“I’m doing no such thing.” You shake your head, “You’re just being slow.”

He certainly isn’t being slow when he leans his head forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue. You have to quickly lean forward also and grab the headboard to steady yourself, a moan escaping your lips as he does so. He attacks your clit quickly, and you can’t help but grind your hips forward at the feeling. He curls his hands around your thighs, stopping you from moving anymore. You cry out as he doesn’t slow down, and you pull his hair slightly. It emits a moan from him which vibrates against your clit, creeping your closer and closer to your peak.

It becomes a cycle. As you pull on his hair, more moans and groans tumble from his lips again sty your clit. He knew the more that he focused upon your clit, the closer you’d find yourself to your orgasm. He had learnt this, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten it.

You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue. He knows your close, due to your thighs clamping around his head. He doesn’t slow down, but instead he flicks his tongue even quicker.

“Fucking hell.” You moan, your body starting to shake as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He continues to attack your clit, coaxing you through your orgasm until you’ve finished and catching your breath.

“You taste so fucking good.” He says, dancing his fingers upon your thigh, “Missed your taste.”

“Fuck me, H.” You say, breathlessly.

He doesn’t hesitate. You manoeuvre yourself off of his head and lay so that you’re head is rested upon his pillow. He leans to open his bedside drawer but you stop him, grabbing his arm and pulling his back to you.

“Did you sleep with anyone else?” You ask, knowing that this could make or break whether you were going to be fucked or not at this moment.

“No.” He says, immediately shaking his head, “I didn’t. Did you?”

You also shake your head, “I wanna feel you, H. Want you to come in me.”

He groans without even touching you yet, or you touching him. He immediately drops his lips to yours, and you can’t help but giggle and smile into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer to you. He pulls away slightly, just to grip his cock, running his thumb over his tip a few times.

“Are you sure?” He says and you nod, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Please, H.” You nod, hips bucking towards his, “I need you.”

“Need you too.” He kisses you again, “Always need you.”

He leans forward, looking down between the two of you to line his cock up with your entrance. He runs the tip over your clit for a second before pushing into you. Your walls immediately envelope him, tightening around him with every inch that he moves in. You sigh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his back. He starts to move in and out of you, your walls clenching around him as he tries to find his rhythm.

“Fuck.” You can’t help but moan that into his ear.

“Taking me so well.” You drop your hands to rest on your pillows next to him, to which he takes your hand in his as he starts to quicken his pace, “Missed your pussy so much. Never leaving again.”

Instead of replying, you place your lips upon his again. From the way his eyes are screwed closed, you can tell that he’s close. If it’s possible, he starts to thrust his hips harder towards you, hitting a point so deep into you that causes a whine to fall from your mouth.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” He says against your neck, moving in and out until your thighs are shaking beneath him, “Can feel you, fuck, can feel you clenching around me. Milking my cock, aren’t you?”

You hum, “Feel so good, H. I’m so close.”

When you do come, you see stars. You clench around him, and profanities escape your lips. The feeling is completely how you remember it. You hadn’t been completely celibate since breaking up with Harry, since you do own a little bullet vibrator that had been your friend. You had it for years before you met Harry, and you used it whenever he was away or if the two of you fancied spicing it up every now and then.

You come down from your high just as Harry is catapulted into his, coating your walls with his as does so. His body collapses on top of yours, his head rested at the side of yours. He’s still inside of you, and both of your chests are rising up at down at a quick pace.

“Fucking hell.” He laughs, and you turn your head to look at him. He has a grin upon his face and you lean forward to kiss his dimple, “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

“I know.” You smiled, “You’ve told me multiple times. I’ve missed you to.”

He finally pulls out, and you immediately felt empty. You whined slightly and he moved off of you, dropping down upon the bed next to you. You take this as the opportunity to slip from your bed. Due to not having sex in a long time, you flip your legs over the edge of the bed and prepare yourself for having to take a few steps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up and waddle your way towards Harry’s bathroom, scooping up Harry’s shirt on the way.

You know the way like the back of your hand, and it’s oddly comforting to you. Once you’re in the bathroom, you clean yourself and do your business. Once you’re satisfied, you shrug Harry’s shirt on and do up a few buttons so that you’re covering at least a bit of yourself as you do so.

Harry’s underneath the covers as you return to his room, smiling at you with dimples and all as you walk back through the door. He’s on his side of the bed, and you clamber into yours. The feeling of having someone in bed next to you makes you happy inside. You lay upon your side, with one of your hands beneath you head and Harry copies your movement. Your faces are close, and he leans forward to place a kiss to your nose.

You smile, “Hi.”

“Hi, love.”

“Are you okay?” You ask and he nods, “Do you think we’ve rushed this?”

“No.” He’s quick to say, “I don’t think we have. We needed this. I’ve never felt closer to someone as I do to you right now.”

“Me neither.” You smile, moving to grab his hand that was rested upon his side, “And I don’t think I will again.”

“Darling.” Harry says, pointing his finger in the air as he does so.

Chloe hesitates for a second before letting out a, “Ding!” to say that he was right.

It was Boxing Day, and after spending Christmas Eve and the majority of Christmas Day with your family, you had driven from your family house up to Cheshire to spend the rest of Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Harry’s family. You were all sat in the living room playing a game, sporting glasses of wine and basking in the Christmassy feeling of being together again.

After Harry’s show on the nineteenth, and the acts that happened afterwards, you and Harry had many conversations. There was a few tears from the two of you, and the conversation got heated in some aspects but you were together again, and that was the main thing. Originally, you had decided to spend Christmas separate, without each other’s company just because it was such a sudden change and you wanted to make sure that you fully weren’t rushing into things. Then, whilst sat on the sofa after devouring your Christmas dinner, with Mud’s Lonely this Christmas playing through your speakers that you realised that you missed Harry, and a Christmas without seeing him now was a Christmas that you didn’t want in your life.

You had contemplated surprising him and just turning up, but you felt as though that wasn’t fair on the rest of his family, and that’s why you messaged and asked him. He replied asking whether you were certain that you wanted to do this, and you said yes and he said that he’d have a cup of tea ready for you whenever you arrived.

He did have one ready for you, and it was everything you needed to warm yourself up after the long journey.

Anne, Gemma and Michal asked no questions to you, but you had no doubt that they had asked Harry some on your journey. Anne had welcomed you with a hug, and so did Gemma and once their prying eyes were away, Harry kissed you as though his life depended on it, pressed against the staircase of his mother’s house whilst fairy lights twinkled around them.

Anne’s next to go, hoping that her answer of, “Sweetheart,” was at the top of the list.

Chloe replies with, “Uh huh,” to which everyone “Ooo’s” in response at.

You’re rested upon the back of the sofa, with a flute of Champagne in your hand. Harry, in his flat-cap almost breaking your hear with how handsome he looked, turned around and pointed his finger at you.

“Come on, now.” He says, “Be smart with this. It’s sticky stuff.”

“Babe.” You immediately reply, knowing that was one of pet names that Harry called you the most.

People around the room laugh at Harry’s phrase of ‘sticky-stuff’ but that doesn’t mask Chloe’s exclamation of, “Ding!” followed by, “Top answer.”

You smile at the knowledge and Harry turns to you also, holding his fist up for you to fist bump which you both laugh at. He holds his hand out and you pass him your drink, which he takes a sip of quickly before returning it to you so you can carry on playing the game.

Michal is next, and for some bizarre reason to all of you he says, “Cutie-pie,” which certainly isn’t on the list. The room chuckles around you, and Harry says something about him “returning to the mines’’ which you all laugh at, but you specifically roll your eyes at.

The game soon wraps up, and you have your meal. Harry sits next to you, and had his hand upon your thigh the entire way through. The table around the two of you chatted about all sorts, many of the questions being about when your music was coming out which you certainly didn’t expect. You started to feel as though your album, when it came out, wouldn’t be very complimentary of your relationship with Harry, and you were starting to regret it slightly, but you loved all of your songs and you hoped that when you showed Harry, and the world for that matter, that they would too.

You and Harry, after the meal had finished, had offered to be on washing up duty. You had been given the task of washing up, whilst Harry dried because he felt as though his skills were better there. You let him believe that and carry on with drying all of the special Christmas cutlery that didn’t go in the dish-washer.

Once you had finished, and you were drying your hand upon the towel, you felt hands upon your waist, more specifically, Harry’s. He place a kiss to your neck and you giggled, turning around so that upon were facing him. He immediately captures your lips with his, and you wrap your arms around your neck to steady yourself from the attack of his lips. His hands immediately again go to your waist, slipping his hand underneath the material of your jumper to rest upon your skin. Once you pull away, you look at him with a smile upon your face.

“What was that for?”

“What?” He shrugs, “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” You ask, unable to hide your smile.

“Girlfriend.” He nods, “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

You nod your head and place another kiss to his lips, the feeling running through the two of you without really knowing how significant he really was.

“If you want me to be. I want to be.”

He lifts one of his hands and places it upon your cheek, running his thumb ever so delicately along your skin.

“I love you.” He says, with no hesitation in his voice, “I know I’ve been shitty, and I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, especially not in the way that I am, but I do love you and I never stopped. I swear to you, that from now on my love for you will be the most important thing, and I won’t ever, ever make you second best again.”

“That’s all I want.” You reply, leaning forward to place a kiss upon his lips, “I love you too.”

With the year that you had, and the feeling as though you’d never be with this man again, you couldn’t believe that here you were with him. He was with you, and he was yours and there was no doubt in your mind that what happened earlier this year will never happen again. It was almost as though this was something that your relationship needed to grow stronger in itself, and it surely was now.

He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you onto his chest, “I’m never letting you go again. I probably won’t let you out of my sight again.”

“I can’t say that I’d ever complain.”

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