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yanderenightmare · 7 months

Text

Nanami Kento

TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap

AN: thinking about a pervy sex therapist Nanami~

fem reader

You started coming to his home office once a week.

Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face.

But you came around to like him soon enough.

He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started.

And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.

When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.

He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.

Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.

You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.

He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat.

He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.

He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more.

He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.

He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~”

He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off.

It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.

He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.

He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.

“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.

His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.

You take it in with doe eyes.

“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”

You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”

He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”

“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.

“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy.

But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap.

“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.”

He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow.

“There you go, just like that. Good.”

You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.

Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?

You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.

So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...

You'll do it.

You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.

It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.

In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.

“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.

“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”

You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”

“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”

You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly.

He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”

You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.

“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips.

It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.

He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.

“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.

He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.

But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.

“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.

Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking.

“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.

Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk.

He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.

You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.

“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees.

His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.

He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.

You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.

“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.

“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”

But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.

“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.

You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.

“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile.

You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.

But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.

“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.

His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.

He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt.

“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.

Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.

The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.

You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.

You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.

There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath.

He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing.

It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide.

He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you.

It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.

Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.

He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.

You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.

“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips.

You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.

“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.

He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.

“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum.

He smiles.

“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”

You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.

But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.

“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”

You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”

You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.

“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”

sequel

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami x reader #yandere kento nanami #yandere kento #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #kento smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu nanami

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inkskinned · 6 months

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it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.

i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.

when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.

on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.

we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.

i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?

how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.

last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.

i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.

#writeblr #warm up #on gender politics lol #inkskinned try not to have feelings for someone challenge #time of death: they put my earring in their ear. they were wearing an unbuttoned black buttondown and a necklace with my name on it #you can just send me the coffin i was ready to crawl in

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cozage · 1 year

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Hi! Can I request for Ace, Shanks react to their crush sitting on their lap because of a challenge/truth or dare game?

Characters: G/N reader with Ace, Shanks, Luffy, Law A/N: I loved this request so much I was losing sleep over thinking about this. It has been all I’ve been thinking about for the past few days. Thank you SO MUCH for this. I went a little crazy with this one and I added a few extra people just because I could not get this scenario out of my brain, but your requests are up first and the longest :)

Cw: SFW and NSFW here. NSFW is clearly marked if you want to skip that portion. Minors - PLEASE DNI WITH THE NSFW!! I promise I will have so much content for you to consume, please respect me and my work and avoid the NSFW stuff. There’s also alcohol mention, drinking, heavy flirting

Total word count: 4.2k

Truth or Dare

Ace

Word count: 1.1k

“Dare.” You weren’t normally a risk taker, but you trusted Marco not to be too wild in his request.

When his eyes slid over to Ace and a smirk appeared on Marco’s face, you immediately regretted that decision. “I dare you to sit on Ace's lap for the rest of the night. Only getting up for bathroom breaks, dares, or refills.”

Ace tries to play it off as not a big deal in front of everyone. He’s known as a super cocky and charismatic guy by the crew and he’s not about to give up that reputation because of some dare.

You know Ace though, and you definitely see his cheeks growing red as you walk over to him.

He opens his arms to welcome you, mostly to make a spectacle of the whole thing to the rest of the crew, but you catch him shooting daggers out of his eyes at Marco when everyone isn’t looking.

This man is secretly a NERVOUS. WRECK. Internally he’s so awkward and uncomfortable about being this close to you and it not being on your own terms.

Ace has never even made a move on you before. You all have exchanged flirtatious banter frequently, but you’ve never been this close for this long.

You try to ignore it, but you can see Marco mouthing things to him when he thinks you aren’t looking. Unfortunately you’re not a good lip reader, but you think you can see the first division commander mouth out “make a move” while nodding at you.

At first Ace was super stiff and uncomfortable with the situation. He’s leaning all the way back, hands hanging by his side. He’s trying to give you the space to feel comfortable, because he knows this has to be even more awkward for you than it is for him. He looks comfortable enough to everyone else in the room, but you can feel the tension in his movements.

One of the few times he willingly gives you more contact than you already share is to reach for his drink at the table. Anytime he reaches for it, his bare chest presses up against your back, and you have to resist the urge not to lean into his warmth.

You get up to get a drink for the both of you, and when you come back, you find him talking to Marco in a hushed tone. He sounds irritated, but when he sees you, he smiles and reaches out to you, welcoming you back into his lap.

“Truth.” You were cautious to do dares due to the position you were in now. “Do you like sitting on Fire Fist’s lap?” Haruto asked. You shrugged casually, but you could feel your ears burning. “It’s not so bad.”

After the initial awkwardness wears off and a few more drinks are in your alls system, you both get more comfortable with your situation. You all relax into your normal selves again, bantering and laughing.

When he says something stupid, you turn around and flick his forehead, and he pretends to pout and ignore you for a while. He traces lines along your back and tickles your sides to get you to squeal and squirm away from him.

Ace gets up to do a dare finally, and you stay standing, waiting for him to come back. “If you need a nice place to sit, I’ve got a lap even better than Ace’s!” You laugh and politely decline, but you catch Ace glaring at the guy who attempted to make a move on you. When Ace returns to his seat, he beckons to you, and you happily sit down on top of him.

You get up for a dare, and when you come back to sit with him, a few guys jokingly question when it’s going to be their turn. Neither you or Ace acknowledge them, but as you sit down, Ace wraps his hand around your waist. He’s not holding you or anything, his hand just rests there. You like the feeling.

The next time you get up for a dare, he holds you back for a second before he releases you. You lock eyes for a second before he mumbles an apology and averts his gaze.

You two alternate between you leaning back against him and him resting his head on your shoulder or against your back.

“I really like the smell of your shampoo,'' he whispers soft enough so only you can hear. You can feel him take in a few deep breaths with his nose pressed into your hair. There's an exchange of electricity between you two. He feels it too, but neither of you say anything. You just enjoy your quiet moment of shared intimacy.

NSFW

Late in the night, you get up to refill both of your drinks.When you come back, you sit down and shift a bit in Ace’s lap to get comfortable. You can feel him involuntarily grind into your ass, and without thinking you press back into him. Both of you are painfully aware of what you’ve both done, and your cheeks flush with heat instantly. It’s a bit awkward for a little while, but after watching a few more rounds of truth or dare, you’ve both moved on from the awkwardness.

A while later, the ship hits a rogue wave and you lose your balance. Ace's arm instinctively flexes to hold you in place on top of him. He manages to steady you, but he can’t save your beer, which splashes all over your shirt. You groan, and start to get up to clean it up, but his hand grips your waist and holds you in your place on his lap. He doesn’t want you to leave. “We can get you another shirt later.”

“I'm just going to go change, Ace. I’ll be right back”

“Sorry.” He sighed, his hand still tightly gripped against your waist, pulling you as close as possible. “That wasn’t a reason you could leave your seat.”

“Ace,” you whine back to him. You really didn’t want to smell like beer all night. “Please let me change.”

His fingers do a light dance across your midsection, and he leans close against you to whisper in your ear. “You want help?”

Luckily your cheeks are already rose-tinted from the alcohol, or else you’d be giving yourself away. Unluckily, most of the room's eyes are already on you two, waiting to see what will happen next. It’s silent for a long moment, before someone shouts out. “GET A ROOM, YOU TWO!” You’re pretty sure it was another commander, though you’re too focused on Ace to see which one it was.

“I’m just going to change.” You call out as you get up. Ace follows closely behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever!” A mix of applause and cheers echo from the room as you all head towards your cabin.

Shanks

Word count: 1.1k

“Dare,” you say with a smirk. “Do your worst, Beckman.”

It was a game the two of you played often while on the sea, and you hadn’t lost to him yet. But his devilish grin makes a knot appear in your stomach. Perhaps you had taunted him too much. He lowers his voice so only you can hear. “Go sit in the Captain’s seat for ten minutes.”

You scoff at the notion. You were expecting much worse. “That’s not much of a dare, Beck. You had me worried.”

“You don’t think?” He raises an eyebrow and nods in the direction of the seat, and as you follow his gaze to see that your captain is currently seated where you need to be. “Go on then. And you can’t let him know about the game.”

That was always the rule. If people were on to your motives, you would lose the game. You were always sly enough to get by in the past, which is how Beckman always lost. Beckman nudges you on, and you roll your eyes and head towards Shanks.

“Hey, Captain.” You casually sit sideways on his lap and feign deep intrigue at whatever paper he’s currently looking over.

He’s extremely taken aback and confused by your sudden comfortability with him, given you’ve never done something like this before.

He quickly recovers from his shock and has the biggest grin watching you examine the paper he’s holding.

Shanks very quickly realizes he could get used to you sitting like this all the time, and doesn’t want you to get up anytime soon, so he ropes you into helping him with his current project. “It looks like a coded treasure map. I just can’t quite get the right sequence to decode it properly.”

He knows you’re a sucker for a good mystery/puzzle, and hands off the paper for you to look at. You quickly snatch the paper and actually start looking at it now, seriously intrigued. Plus it’s a great way to pass the time.

You almost forget that you came over here as a part of a dare. You stare at the paper and absent-mindedly lean into Shanks to get comfortable.

He wraps his arm around you to support you, and you take that as a further prompt to get more relaxed. By the time you’re both comfortable, you’re curled up his lap with your head resting against his chest. Your legs are propped up against one of the arm rests for support, and Shanks’ arm is wrapped around your back and is resting on your waist.

You don’t seem to notice how intimate it is, preoccupied with the paper laid out before you. Shanks, on the other hand, is very aware of it. He isn’t a man who gets embarrassed easily, but he’s doing a quick glance around the deck to see if anyone’s watching you two and your very public display of flirtation with one another.

As he looks around, he spots Beckman eyeing the two of you, and Shanks shifts a bit to pull you in closer to him. You hum pleasantly and don’t even notice Shanks and Beckman exchanging looks, your eyes glued to the paper.

Beckman just raises an eyebrow at his captain, who grins in return. The second in command winks at his captain and turns away, his mission complete.

Your ten minutes flies by without you even realizing it. Thirty minutes, then an hour…

Shanks doesn’t normally like to stay in one place for so long, but he really enjoys having you so close to him and watching you work.

The crew occasionally came up and asked their captain for certain things, and though they wanted to say something about the current situation he was in, nobody brought it up. In fact, they had a running bet for how long you all would stay there before you finally moved.

He would smile to himself every time you scrunched up your nose in frustration or mumbled random phrases to yourself. Normally he would tease you about such things, but he didn’t want to break your concentration or have you realize how much time had passed.

“I got it!” Two hours had passed by the time the map was fully decoded, and Shanks felt his heart fall a little when you held the paper up in triumph. He knew it was much more likely you would abandon your seat now that your task was over.

“It was actually three separate codes, all working off of each other's set codes, like a code within a code! So when you…” You keep explaining the solution to your captain, and he listens intently, watching your every movement.

“You know, I’ve been trying to solve that problem for two weeks.” He laughs softly. “And you solved it in two hours.” Your face flushes noticeably. Two hours?

“I didn’t mind it,” he says, as if he’s reading your thoughts. “It’s the best seat on the ship, after all.”

NSFW

You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot at his remarks, and you quickly swing your legs and start to the ground to stand, but you’re pulled back onto his lap, straddling one of his legs. Your closeness over the past two hours has filled him with courage.

“Hey now.” He presses himself against your back while he speaks, low and soft. “I don’t think I said you could get up yet.”

“Wha-” Your mouth falls open from shock, and you start to question what he means, but you’re immediately cut off when his thigh jolts upwards into the space between your legs, grinding against you. You clamp your mouth shut quickly, biting your lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

“Captain!” It comes out as a low hiss, and you glance around the deck nervously to see if there were any witnesses, but the two of you are alone. You feel his leg buck against you again, and you squirm to get off of his thigh. But he has a tight grip on you, and moving around on him is only making him drive his leg further into you.

He hums in amusement, enjoying the attempt of your half-hearted escape. “Do you not like it?” He teases. “Your heart rate seems to be telling me something different.”

He’s right, of course. You are enjoying it. You don’t answer him, and he can’t see your face, but you can feel yourself wanting to grind back against his leg, enjoying the sensation.

As you begin to move back into him, he shifts his leg, and you lose the high you had both been working together to build. You turn your head to face him, glaring at him for making such an intentional move. He smirks back in return.

“I told you this was the best seat on the ship, and I’ll be damned if I don’t live up to that.”

Luffy

Word count: 1k

“Ha! You lose!”

Of course you lost. You were going up against Luffy in a drinking contest. You returned to your place in the circle of crew members, sitting criss-crossed on the deck. “What do I have to do now?”

Nami pulls a card from the deck, and reads it aloud for everyone to hear. “The loser has to sit on the winner's lap until the next round.”

Your eyes widen as a smile spreads across Luffy’s face. His arms shoot out to grab you before you can even protest, and he pulls you to him. “I love being a winner!” He sets you into his lap, and wraps his arms around you several times so you can’t escape.

Luffy is never one to shy away from public affection. When he has a crush, it’s painfully obvious to everyone around him. The crew had been waiting for him to make a move on you, and finally the opportunity presented itself.

He acts like you all have been in this scenario hundreds of times, there’s no awkwardness whatsoever. As the game goes on, he cheers and laughs, always moving you with him. He’s 100% comfortable with you in his lap.

He keeps his hands wrapped around you and his chest is always flush with your back. You two are one person now. And neither of you have use of your arms.

You squirm a bit, trying to get a hand free to grab a drink. You definitely needed one, with the position you were in. Luffy’s head appears next to yours, his big eyes looking at you with confusion. “Hm? Are you not comfortable?”

“No, no,” you reassure him lightly. Your brain feels a little dizzy from being so close to him. “I just want a drink.”

“Oh!” His arms unravel from you and reach across the circle to grab the drink from your old spot for you. “There you go!” He repositions himself so his arms still get to be wrapped around you, but you have the ability to move your arms again.

He rests his head on your shoulder and watches the others play their various challenges. He yells out words of encouragement and throws out challenge ideas himself. You remind yourself to have Chopper check your ear for signs of hearing loss.

Your turn comes around to partake in another challenge, this time with Zoro. Luffy pouts a bit when he has to relinquish you. It’s a guessing game challenge, and you beat Zoro by a significant amount. When you finish the challenge, you return to your seat in Luffy’s lap.

“Thanks for coming back, even though you didn’t have to!” Luffy snuggles into you and wraps his arms around your torso again. Your face turns as red as his shirt, and everyone laughs before moving on to the next challenge.

NSFW

After a few more rounds, half of the crew turned in for bed. The only ones who remained were you, Nami, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, and Usopp. You were all extremely drunk, so the challenges had died down, turning into more of a game where you had to answer questions about each other or do something to avoid answering it. You still sat in Luffy’s lap, his head resting lazily on your shoulder.

“Hey, I have one for you, Y/N.” Nami glanced around the circle before continuing. “Who here do you think would be the best in bed?”

You choke on your drink, and you’re not the only one. You see everyone stiffen, and they all eye you inquisitively. You had prided yourself in the fact that you hadn’t turned down a question yet, and you could sense that Nami wanted you to eat your words.

You think about it for a few moments before answering. “Probably Zoro.”

There’s a moment of silence that follows your answer, leaving it hanging in the air. You can’t see Luffy’s face, but you can feel him clench his fists into your side. Your eyes haven’t left Nami’s since you answered, and see a sign of shock appear over her face. She can’t think of anything to say other than, “Wait…really?”

“Well, it’s all in the way you worded it, Nami.” You should shut your mouth and have some shame, but you can’t help it. “If you had asked who’d be the best lover,” you pause to look at the cook. “I’d probably say Sanji.”

Your eyes slide over to Usopp next, ignoring Sanji's reaction. “If you asked who’d be the most adventurous…” you laugh, catching his gaze. “The answer would definitely be Usopp.” Usopp’s eyes widened and looked away.

“But you didn’t ask those things. You asked who’d be the best. Which has to be between Zoro and Luffy.” The group is still silent, and your eyes slide lazily to Zoro, who is returning your gaze with a glare. It’s getting hard to ignore the pain of Luffy’s hands digging into your side, his silent plea for you to stop talking, but you still continue on.

“It’d be close, but objectively, I think it would be Zoro. But…” you pause for a second, your eyes returning to Nami. “If you asked me who I want to fuck the most, the answer would obviously be Luffy.”

At the mention of his name in that context, Luffy’s grip finally loosens on you. Everyone is staring at you in disbelief of such a bold statement, still unable to speak. You wait a beat before laughing at them all. “Well, I think that’s a good note for me to end on.” You peel Luffy’s arms off of you and stand up. “I’m off to bed.”

Luffy, with no ounce of shame in his bones, stands up before you even make it through the door. “Yeah, uh, me too!” He bounds off after you. “Goodnight!”

As soon as he’s through the door, he reaches out to grab you and pull you back to him. You don’t even have time to react before his lips are on yours, his hands tangled in your hair.

“Luffy-” you pull away from his kiss gasping for air, but are instantly pulled into another one before you can finish your sentence.

“I’m gonna prove you wrong,” he whispers against your lips. “I’m gonna prove that I’m the best at all those things.”

Law

Word count: 950

“Okay, flip them!”

You turn your card on the table that you’re kneeling in front of. Two of spades. You look around, praying not to find a match.

“Two of spades! The captain has a two of spades!” Bepo is looking back and forth between the two of you. Your eyes cut across to Law, looking equally as unenthused as he is.

“Who has the highest card?”

Ikkaku calls out “I have a queen,” and you feel relief. Until you hear a snicker from across the room that implies she’s been beat.

“I have a king.” You groan as Shachi flashes the card. There’s no way this man is going to go easy on you two. “Y/N has to sit on the captain’s lap for the rest of the game…or thirty minutes. Whichever is last.”

Law scowls at his crew member. “No way. Captain veto.”

“You can’t veto on game night!” Shachi reminds him, and Law curses under his breath. Your face is warm, and the table in front of you has become very interesting in the past 30 seconds.

“Get over here, y/n-ya.” You flinch at his directness, but get up and walk to his side of the table. “Sorry about all this,” he mutters to you, as he moves into a criss-cross seated position to accommodate for your new punishment.

“I don’t blame you,” you say, taking a seat in his lap. “I blame Shachi.” You stick your tongue out at your crew mate, but he only winks at you in return.

Law is the kind of person who completely ignores the fact that this is happening. He doesn’t necessarily avoid touching you, but he doesn’t go out of his way to do it either. You all continue to play the game as you normally would, just in the space of each other rather than separately.

You can feel his body tighten whenever you move or shift against him. You can’t see his face, but every time you move to readjust yourself, there’s someone calling out, “What’s wrong, Captainnnn? Why’s your face so red??”

You lose again, and while the winner is trying to make up a punishment, Law excuses him to use the bathroom. Shachi refuses to let him go, and you can feel Law twitch in irritation behind you. “I just have to piss, I’ll come right back!” Shachi’s eyes slide to you, still seated on the ground, and that mischievous grin of his reappears. “Fine, Captain. I’ll make an exception for you this once.”

As soon as Law leaves, Shachi is next to Clione in an instant, whispering in his ear. A similar grin begins to mirror on Clione’s face as Shachi whispers his elaborate plan. “Y/N, you have to flirt with the captain.” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open at their cruelty. You hadn’t told anyone about your blooming feelings for the Captain yet. There’s no way they could know, and yet they somehow did. Shachi sees your horror, and delightfully adds “Really lay it on thick, too! I want obvious flirting! Just once.”

“I’m so sorry about this, Y/N-ya.” Law apologizes again as he sits down, and you’re not sure why he’s the one who's sorry. (Really, Law is apologizing because Shachi knows that he has a crush on you and Shachi loves to meddle. Law vows to never tell another soul anything personal again after today.)

You lock eyes for a second with Shachi, who is waving you on discreetly. “Oh, it’s really not so bad, Captain.” You laugh and turn yourself sideways so you can see his face better. You place your arms around his neck and look into his eyes, which are wide with confusion and shock. “It’s almost more comfortable than…”

The phrase getting lost in his eyes suddenly makes sense to you. You’ve never noticed how intricate his eyes were, like layers of golden flecks rather than one solid color. Even down here in the submarine with harsh luminescent lighting, they shine in a way you didn’t think was humanly possible. “Um…”

The entire crew starts laughing, and your face turns a deep red. You quickly unclasp your hands from his neck and turn around, facing the table again. All of the confidence you just had was completely washed away with one look from your captain.

“Hey, Y/N-ya, are you okay?” His voice is soft and warm, and you can feel a hand rest on your shoulder, trying to get you to turn back to him again. “I’m fine! Sorry about that, captain.” Instead of turning back to him, you look for Shachi, who smirks and holds up a thumbs up. It could’ve gone better, but you’ll take it.

Law is absolutely perplexed by the scene you just made, but he didn’t hate it. He just wished the two of you were alone when you had done it so it would have lasted longer. He shoots a glare across the rest of his subordinates, who are still laughing at your alls interaction. “Quiet down. It’s not that big of a deal.”

You all sit awkwardly for the rest of your sentence. You sit straight up in his lap, and he stays more leaned back away. Law definitely thinks that he’s the one who made you uncomfortable and wants to give you as much space as possible for the rest of the time.

I'm so sorry Law stans there is no NSFW for him because there is no way this man is making a move on you after one little moment or letting Shachi take all the credit for you guys getting together. This would be a PAINFULLY slow burn. (but if someone requests a followup to this or any of these pieces I wouldn’t be opposed 👀 )

Law’s NSFW portion is up here!!!

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papaya-twinks · 10 days

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ideas seem better when they’re just ideas - l.n

Warnings: Obsessiveness, manipulation, dark Lando, stalking, 18+,

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Idk what to put :(

The idea of Lando Norris and working with him was enticing as shit. He was hot and he was rich, what’s not to love? As one of his many adoring fans, people would think you’d be overjoyed to have the chance to work with him. Wrong. It started out okay, he struggled to remember your named as you ran around collecting and informing him of events to do.

And then, he fired every single other assistent, til it was just you.

There was a period where you were also worried you’d get fired too, but you didn’t. It was like the hunger games to stay in the job, except the winner was already determined. You felt proud that you’d kept it, but also uneasy. Why has he asked you to stay? He didn’t even know your name.

But you lived with it, because Lando was nice. He’d let you have holidays when you wanted, but not for longer than a few days. And you liked your job. “Lando, you have a PR meeting in a few minutes,” you said, walking into Lando’s driver room and peering at my notebook. “S-Sir,” you stuttered, looking up at Lando. “What is it?” he asked shortly. “I-I’ve been meaning to ask…” you trailed off slightly, unsure to how to phrase it.

Then, you realised you were being stupid. Lando let you off early whenever you asked, why was this different? Just provide a reason and he’ll let you go. Simple. “Sir, I have a date in an hour,” I said, watching as he looked up from his phone, “and I was wondering if I could get off an hour early?”.

“No,”. His voice was calm yet demanding. “No, sir?” you asked, confused. He’d never refused you. “I said, no,” he repeated. “But, I…” he interrupted you. “I said what I sqid, now get me something to eat,” he commanded, making you sigh. “Sir, I’ll do extra work, tomorrow, please?” you asked again. “If I get to not hear your continuous whining, then alright, go. And cancel that meeting, I have…other occupations,” he said shortly.

You nodded eagerly, and, in an hour’s time, left for your date. He was a nice guy, and you were interested in him as well. “One sec, I need to touch up my make up,” I smiled to the guy as he nodded, letting you leave for the bathroom. As soon as you’d left, Lando sat down in your space. “Uh, can I help you, mate?” your date asked, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“She’s taken ‘mate’,” sarcasm dripped from Lando’s voice. “I don’t think she is, or she wouldn’t be on this date,” he said defensively. “Oh yeah? Well if you don’t stay away from her, dude,” Lando leaned forward threateningly, “I’ll make sure you never see her, or anyone again,” the Brit smiled sweetly. “I advise you leave,” he added, watching as your date trembled slightly, before slamming a wad of notes onto the table and scrambling away.

“How’d the date go?” Lando asked, knowing fully well how it went. “Bad. He ditched me halfway through,” I sniffed, wiping your mascara off my cheek. “Oh, darling,” Lando cooed, helping sit down. “He just doesn’t appreciate a pretty girl,” he held you to his chest as you left the tears flow. Little did you know…

“Let me take care of you,” Lando whispered, holding your shaking body.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando x reader #f1

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germiyahu · 3 months

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Actually don't listen to me. I'm an impulse buyer with credit cards. You want a nice looking pitcher and basin to perform the hand washing mitzvot? That's an excellent opportunity to go thrifting! You might even find Judaica there, like a Chanukkiyya perhaps?

You don't want to wait 8 years for Shabbat candles to arrive from Israel? Ask your rabbi! When I asked her if you can reuse a Havdalah candle, she sensed I was worried about the cost of buying all these candles and said her shul has tons of extras.

You absolutely do need a Chumash, a Tanakh, and probably a study Bible too... but Sefaria has all that and more! Especially the Talmud and other Rabbinic sources! It literally blows my mind that this site exists and is free.

But what about all the books on Jewish history and philosophy? What about textbooks for Modern and Biblical Hebrew? See if there are scanned versions online, or go to your local library. Invest in notecards, you're going to want to write down prayers and such, this will especially help if you don't own the books you're studying from.

It's a good idea to have a Siddur, but your shul will most definitely have their own, and as others have told me, you can ask your Rabbi if you can borrow one to take home (make sure to treat it with reverence).

If you want to start baking Challah and are living on your own, or maybe in a dorm room, see if there are community cooking spaces so you don't have to buy your own materials, or just ask your parents if they can gift you some kitchenware because "You want to get into baking."

You literally don't need anything other than a cup that you think is pretty and has meaning to you for the Kiddush. And don't splurge, I've seen hundreds of very attractive Kiddush sets and candle holders and all that for modest prices.

And take it slowly! Don't buy everything at once. We're nowhere near close to Chanukka right now, so don't even put that in your mind. If you want to acquire holiday items, focus on Pesach and worry about other festivals in their due time, let your wallet recover a little. This also goes for Shabbat! You don't need a pristine set of everything all at once, I'm just an idiot. You can slowly build up your perfect beautiful intricate table as the months go by.

#conversion obviously costs more money when it requires study and all the materials therein #but you can do it on the cheap #jewish convert #jew by choice #gerim #jewish #jumblr

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cumikering · 1 month

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Neighbour Ghost x reader 8 (end)

1.6k | fluff The stray and his forever home (part 1)

“Bone apple tea.” You placed the cup of camomile in front of Simon.

“What?”

You pointed at your skull-printed shirt, the apple pie patch on his hoodie and the tea on the table. “Bone. Apple. Tea.”

He’d missed that brilliant smile too much. It was impossible to not want to kiss you. He chuckled as he pulled you to stand between his thighs.

That Sunday with your help, despite the pounding of his head, he packed the rest of his stuff and managed to move out. In the last few days he had before he left, he spent any possible moment with you, mainly eating his favourite Chinese takeout or cuddling on the couch.

Two months later when Simon came back, things crawled to how they were, with him visiting for dinner and leaving before midnight. Eventually, he stayed more and more nights a week, leaving more than a few of his shirts behind.

The divorce was finalised and his childhood home was sold. The city of Manchester didn’t mean gripping the straps of his backpack after school as he walked up the dreaded front steps anymore, nor sleeping restlessly lest someone barged in the door with another bizarre creature. The house was gone, along with the memories that breathed within the walls. He didn’t miss them.

His mum got a flat near Tommy’s and a job at a flower shop in the neighbourhood. ‘Not as nice as working with Ben’, she said. She had to buy her own bread, and none she’d found in the area tasted remotely close to how grand his were. She still cooked too much, but Tommy didn’t mind the extra whenever she dropped by. Little Joe always loved seeing his nana anyway.

Back from his next deployment, Simon held you at the door as he inhaled the warmth he’d missed terribly. After his shower, you showed him his shirts in their own drawer, not jammed between yours anymore. He smiled, pulling you in for a kiss.

In spring, he came with to visit your dad, insisting on wearing one of his dress shirts, even when you assured it was a regular lunch. He stood rigid on the porch, the neck of the wine bottle about to snap in his grip.

Your dad was taking too long. Was he arming himself before opening the door? Should he tackle and disarm him or take the shot like a man? He should have worn a tac vest.

“Si, relax.” You rubbed his back. “You’re already too tall. You’re going to scare my dad.”

Is that not a good thing?

Your dad (obviously unarmed) tried making small talk with him at lunch, but he sucked at it as much as Simon did, leaving you to do almost all the talking among the pauses. You only received short answers from the men who avoided each other’s gazes.

Also, who the bloody hell put the coriander in the chicken stir-fry?!

“Your dad hates me,” Simon declared as he drove home, the phantom taste of soap persisted on his palate despite the hours between.

“He doesn’t, I promise. He doesn’t even really like Chinese, but picked the place because I told him how much you love it. He really tried, but just doesn’t talk much with new people.” You stifled a laugh. “You should have cracked a few jokes.”

He gave you a deadpan look. “When we get home, I’m going to tickle you until you pass out.”

Home.

You’d made your flat Simon’s home too. You cleared another drawer for him, and another, and another, even when he didn’t have so many possessions. But you let him expand and take up the space he needed. He reordered a set of his ID discs for you to keep on your nightstand.

Things were… easy. Simple, like getting out of bed a little later on weekends. With his nose buried in your hair, arm around your waist pulling you flush to his chest, he held you in silence from dawn until you woke. Listening to your quiet breathing filled his chest heavy with warmth.

You’d asked multiple times if it bored him to be doing nothing, as if he didn’t lay prone behind rifle scopes for hours on end for a living. It didn’t, because being in your presence wasn’t nothing. You were real, and you were his.

You woke with a stir, a smile gracing your lips when you realised he was with you before your eyes opened.

“Good morning, my love.” He slipped the strap of your tank top off before peppering kisses on the nape of your neck down your exposed shoulder.

“Morning, Si.” You reached back to scratch his scalp.

He rolled you onto your back before crawling on top of you, kissing the column on your neck making you giggle with his weekend scruff. He pulled away to admire your eyes, always striking in the warm sun.

“Love looking at you.” You cupped his cheek, tracing the healed cut with your thumb. “You’re so beautiful, Si.”

He leaned in, and you stayed in bed a little longer.

In his shirt, you placed more toasts on the table.

“Two goldfish are in a tank…”

He handed you a buttered toast. “Don’t steal my jokes, luv.”

“It’s too lame to forget.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause I remember you howling at Tesco when I told it.”

“It was your first ever.” You smiled. “My favourite.”

“Why didn’t you tell me I was scary, luv?”

“I’m not sure they teach you to tell the scary bloke he’s scary in self-defence class.” You took a bite of the toast.

“Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Are you out of jam?”

“Forgot to grab some yesterday, but I didn’t forget your limes.”

Simon became a bit of a pie connoisseur. He figured baking was better than sparring with the intention of beating someone up to a pulp. He tried different fruits (even declared himself a pro at peeling) and techniques, and eventually other varieties. That late Saturday morning, it was key lime pie.

“Why’s the cat so small?” you asked as you tied your kitty apron around his waist.

“Why?”

“Because it drank condensed milk.”

He liked that you were becoming more like him. “You too, it seems.”

You mock gasped. “Rude! You know I can take you, Si.”

“Not in a fight.”

You slapped his chest playfully earning a hearty laugh from him.

Volunteering at the soup kitchen became a regular occurrence too, along with his sergeants. Sam ended up dating one of the volunteers’ daughters, the one he was introduced to. Unfortunately, his two other sergeants hadn’t had as much luck on their side. ‘Does your birdie have sisters or friends, sir?’ Eric joked, but it barely masked his hopefulness. You assured you’d ask around if they promised to keep each other safe while deployed.

It got hard at times, when things went sideways and the missions lasted longer, or when he had no way to contact you or wipe the tears off your face.

Somewhere along the way, Simon listed you as his emergency contact. You weren’t supposed to find out this way. Not this soon, not from his captain calling you about how he was unconscious, dying from blood loss from getting his leg slashed.

The first thing he did when he astonishingly woke was to call you. He could ignore the sear on his thigh, or the fact that his eyelids weighed like lead, but not the guilt that sank into the pits of him when you were in a mess of tears.

“I’m so sorry, luv,” he croaked out of his throat that felt like sandpaper. “I mean it. I’ll leave this all behind if that’s what it takes to keep you. You just have to say the word.”

“Si, you don’t... always have to bend yourself backwards for others. I chose you for who you are, and I will keep choosing you, as long as you don’t give up on this. On us.” You sniffled. “Please come home soon. I need you with me.”

Simon was glad you stood by his decision to stay, because that afternoon a year after, as the major pinned on the new insignia onto his uniform, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when the mass erupted in applause.

Captain Simon Riley.

Among the crowd, next to Tommy and Beth, her belly carrying his niece, you had your arm around his mum, Joe’s hand in yours. From across the room, your sincere eyes made him feel like a hero, the most desirable man. He knew he wasn’t, but you looked at him like he was sunshine, and maybe, he was to you a little bit.

Nothing changed. Simon was still fatherless, still missed out on the memories a child deserved to have, but was never granted. Still bound to a past that wouldn’t go, but he was more than that.

He thought his dad was the only thing standing in the way of happiness, whatever it meant. He knew now. It wasn’t what he thought he wanted, wasn’t what he imagined, but it was perfect. This was what it was supposed to be like all along.

“For you,” he mouthed.

Simon Riley never wanted to be an oil painting admired by many, but he was, and always had been, a love note sealed with a kiss.

Thank you so much for sticking around until the end :) I greatly appreciate the support and kind words this little story has received. Take care!

Line art from part 4

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie

@luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter

@cmbghost @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula

@opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs

@strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

@astraluminaaa @mehjustalasshere @corruptowlette @youllgetafuneral

@lyenera @kcmizzz @s-rinaldi-18

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put-me-through-the-wall · 10 days

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Girl Next Door- Pt. 2

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: Simon finally accept your offer for dinner. Did you mention you can cook?

A/N: I was a little slow on this but the idea of them getting close was stressing me out, okay? Also my MIL was in town and I couldn't get in the groove. All the support so far is amazing, thank you guys so much! If y'all like it there will be more to come. Warning: still slow burning

Join my Taglist

Part I

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon sits across from you at your tiny dining table pressed against the wall of your cramped kitchen. You managed to lure him in with a fairly nice bottle of unopened scotch you found in the back of your cabinet that had potentially fallen into one of your own boxes when moving from your ex's house.

He looks around your quaint little one bedroom apartment. It was a lot different than his own. The literal layout was the same. No extra rooms or walls but you’d done something different in here. The whole space had a cozy feeling to it. Every surface was decorated with useless gadgets and trinkets that he didn't understand the purpose of. Lots of blankets, pillows, soft things. You had music quietly playing through your TV speakers in the living room. A few lamps fill the dim room creating a subtle yellow glow that hits the high points of your face, softening your tired features.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" you suddenly blurt out.

"S'cuse me?" Simon asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Lately I've been feeling like there's something inside of me that attracts horrible guys. Like, is there a beacon coming out my head that says 'hey, come over here. I'm vulnerable and easy'."

Simon pauses, unsure how to respond. He watches your face closely. You're sad eyes looking to him for an answer he doesn't have. "I think you're...nice," but he has a feeling that's not what you wanted to hear.

"nice?" You let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe that's the problem. Nice must translate to doormat," You sigh and drop your head into your hands.

Simon takes a sip of his drink. He's growing concerned this is entering too friendly territory. Then you pop your head back up.

"So, how much did you hear?"

"Not much"

"Yeah right," You toss him a coy smile. “Can I tell you what happened?”

“Sure,”

“Alright, so” you take a sip of your own drink and a deep breath before recounting your story. "I met him at work. He was really nice and offered to pick me up a coffee on his way in one day. I haven’t made any friends at work yet so it was nice just to chat over a coffee. Then we started having lunch together. Nothing serious just in the break room but it felt good to hear about something other than notes from my editor. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, I mean I moved here to focus on myself not continue dating more crappy guys. So of course he started texting me and he was really sweet. He complimented my outfits and thought all my jokes were hilarious apparently. I really wasn’t trying to get involved with this guy though. He said something about hearing I can cook and of course I said I do. It’s part of my job, duh. He’s giving my shit about it so I invited him over for dinner. I made this creamy potato gnocchi with Italian sausage that I got from that great butcher on the corner. I even hand rolled the gnocchi. I mean, who wouldn't kill for an authentic Italian meal?"

"He's sounds like some guy"

"Not really, I was testing out a new recipe for the column so, two birds one stone. Anyways, he comes up and we have some wine and listen to some music. It was going really well so far. Then I go to bring out a nice charcuterie board for an appetizer while the pasta finishes baking. While I'm bringing it to him I can see he's on his phone, texting someone and literally giggling. I walk up behind him and he is sexting. On my couch!" you throw you hands up incredulously. "Well, I thought he was. He’s looking at a picture of some girl bent over then I realize it’s me. He took a picture of my ass, while I was making him dinner. I couldn't fucking believe it. What kind of a scumbag does that to a woman preparing a fucking meal for him? Now, this is not something I'm proud of so let the record show this is very out of character for me but these were extraordinary circumstances. So, I dropped the fig chutney on his head. Right in his stupid quaffed hair. He jumps up and he's all mad and starts yelling and I'm yelling back. He calls me a crazy bitch then I call him a perv. After that he left." you conclude with a shrug.

"Wow" Simon responds, truly taken aback by the series of events.

"Yeah, then you know the rest from there. I don't know what came over me. I guess after my last breakup I haven't felt very good about myself and this guy made me feel, I don't know- fun? That feels silly to say. I should’ve known better from a guy that works the celebrity gossip section. I probably looked like a big baby out there, how dramatic. I'm sorry about that, again."

"You don't need to apologize."

"After I moved here I thought things would be different. I thought guys in the city were classier I guess. Turns out all guys are the same. Just take what they want and go. Do you want another drink?" You point to his now empty glass.

"Sure." You snag his cup and stand. He watches you walk over to the counter in your silky slip dress. The sleek fabric clings to your waist. Flaring around your hips and down your thighs. The warm light reflects on the shiny material, shifting with each step you take. It tightens perfectly about your waist and cinched with a neat little bow in the back. He wonders why you would wear a dress like that for this guy.

"So, do you date?" you question in a seemingly casual tone.

"No"

"Yeah right," you laugh and look over your shoulder to see his stoney expression and your smile fades. "Oh, sorry, I just- I find that hard to believe."

"Why is that?" He tilts his head and you focus back on filling his glass.

"It's just, you're a good looking guy. I would think you'd get plenty of female attention," You pivot back around and place the glass before him. You lean on the table with one hand and prop the other on your waist.

"'M not interested," his gaze stays fixed on the brown liquid, grabbing it and taking another sip. He doesn't miss the way you deflated the slightest bit.

"Maybe I should take a page out of your book, as in maybe swearing off men completely" The oven timer dings. "Oh! pasta!" You jump over and grab your oven mitts. You drop the oven door and slide out the sizzling dish. An aroma of cheese and basil fills the air. Your stomach audibly growls.

You pull down two plates from your cabinet. You serve up the steaming pasta, sprinkling parmesan and fresh chopped herbs for garnish. You proudly carry over the two dishes and place them carefully on the table. You place your hands on your hips while gazing down at the platter.

"This looks...great." Simon is truly taken aback by the incredible looking dish.

"Wait, don't eat yet. Let me get a picture." You scamper into your living room, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and scurrying back. You hold your phone high above for a birds eye view. Simon scoots his chair back to avoid the gaze of the lens. The camera clicks with a flash. You examine the photo, seeming satisfied with the quality and finally taking a seat in your own chair. "It was okay if you were in the picture. I don't mind."

"I do," he says simply.

To anyone else, Simon comes off as rude or callous but you, you never seem to let his shortness affect you. You take his words and just keep going. You don't mind his lack of conversation. It seems you are totally satisfied with having someone there to listen. He was starting to think he didn't mind listening so much.

"Oh," You shift uncomfortably in your chair. "Sorry then. Well, let me know what you think. Try to be detailed with your feelings about it if you can. You're my guinea pig and be honest. I don't want to put this out when it's garbage."

He proceeds to take a forkful in his mouth. He cannot control the groan that escapes his throat as the bold flavor hits his tongue. This is far cry from his usual take away food. He can't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal now that he thinks about it.

"This is quite good." He grumbled between bites. Not caring to finish chewing before he's stabbing at the pasta on the plate once again.

"Really? You don't need to be nice to spare my feelings. I don't mind criticism."

He shoves more in his mouth. "I’m serious"

"Thank you" You giggle watching him scarf down the still steaming hot meal.

The two of you finish your respective plates without much more conversation to be had. On your last few bites you meet Simon's eyes as he reclines back in the creaky wooden chair, hands laying across his stomach. His head tips back with a satisfied grumble making a proud smile play across your lips. This may be the first time you've seen him express a true human emotion in your presence.

"There's more if you want?"

"No, I'm stuffed."

If you know one thing as a part time chef, food is the way to a man's heart. You knew if Simon tasted what you could make his ice exterior would melt away. You stand up and walk to the fridge.

"Too stuffed for dessert?" you pull out a glass bowl filled with layers of custard, strawberries, cake, and whipped cream. "I made a traditional English trifle. Y'know for the holidays coming up and who doesn't love custard?" you shrug while carrying the bowl over to the table. You hurry back to the kitchen to grab two saucers and plate up the dessert.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to butter me up." he comments, intently watching as you carefully slice through the layers. "What do you know about English food?"

"Not much, which is why this is a special occasion. I can get some insight from a genuine Englishman," you slide the saucer to him. "Everything happens for a reason, I guess you were meant to be here tonight" you don’t realize how weird that comment is until it's already left your mouth. You suppress the feeling and internally cringe. You take a seat with your own plate and try a bite. "Hey, that's not too bad. I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud"

Simon actually chuckles when you compliment yourself making you giggle in return. This whole night is very different than you expected. Not that you were complaining.

Your leg bumps his underneath the narrow table. Your bare foot brushing up the edge of his pant leg for the briefest moment. A deep blush rises to your cheeks the second you realize it's his leg instead of the table's.

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly draw your legs underneath your chair. Simon pauses his eating and meets your gaze.

"S'alright," he slowly slides his long leg across the distance and nudges the shin of your tucked legs with the toe of his boot. "You scared?"

"What?" you allow your legs to relax, your calves sitting on either side of his outstretched leg. It felt natural, almost domestic. "You don't scare me." you're lying paired with an anxious laugh.

"No?" As he says this his foot shifts underneath the supports of your chair and yanks it forward causing your chair to skid a few inches across the tile, pressing you further into the table as you let you a surprised yelp. Hands brace against the edge of the table. Simon maintains his calm composure. "Are you sure?" he takes another bite of the fluffy dessert.

You weren't sure if it was the liquor going to your head or the rush of adrenaline but you felt bold. You rest your cheek on your propped up hand, offering the most innocent eyes you can muster, as you delicately slide your foot along the smooth leather of his boot. Simon swallows and gently places his fork back on the table.

"What do you think of it?" you question in a hushed tone. your foot travels further up his ankle, dipping under his pant leg to feel his hot skin underneath.

"It's sweet," He states simply but his words roll off his tongue smooth as butter.

"Not too sweet?" You tilt your head the slightest bit.

"Hm," he hums in contemplation. Your eyes drift down to watch his hands grasp his drink. He grips the glass in his large palm. The rolled sleeves of his long sleeve reveal the muscles in his arm shifting when he raises the glass to his mouth. For the first time you notice a faint raised scar cutting through the outer corner of his lip and stopping just shy of the edge of his nose. He takes a long swig of the brown liquid, not quite finishing the drink. As he pulls back his lips glisten in the warm light. "Not bad when it's paired with a stiff drink," his tongue is quick to swipe across, collecting the residue.

"I'll be sure to make a note of that." you smile sweetly. "Can I get you another drink?" You look down at the last sip coating the bottom of the glass. You make sure to flutter your lashes when you look back up at him.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" A smirk raises the corner of his mouth.

"No," you laugh. "Why, do you want me to?"

He releases a deep gravelly laugh that makes your stomach stir. Then he glances at his watch and your stomach drops.

"I need to get going." He mumbles. He pulls his leg away from yours and rises out of his chair.

"Wait," you rush to stand, almost knocking your seat over in the process. "Can I- uh- get you a bit of pasta to go? There’s plenty left" Trying to think of any excuse to keep him here a moment longer.

"S'okay, save it. Maybe I'll come by another time." He turns and steps out of your kitchen and into the hallway leading to your front door in only a few wide strides.

"Are you sure?" You don't intend for your voice to come out as needy as it does. You follow on his heels like a lost puppy.

"I've got an early morning." Before he reaches the door he turns, seemingly surprised by how close you are to him. He looks down at your big round eyes.

"Okay," you smile trying not to look defeated. "Well, you're welcome over anytime. I mean it, just knock and I'll probably be home. I'm gonna try writing at home more. Try to avoid that guy." You let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Maybe, you should get my number. Y'know, in case you want to check if I'm home."

"I'm alright, I'll just knock" His hand finds the doorknob. "Thanks for dinner, it was nice" Then he turns to go. Closing the door politely behind him.

You rush to the peephole, watching his distorted figure step out of sight followed by the sound of his own door shutting. You rest your hot forehead against the cool wood grain of your door.

You step back in the kitchen and begin putting away the leftovers. Piling the pasta into tupperware, rinsing the plates, collecting silverware. His glass remains in place with a sliver of scotch leftover. You hold the glass up in the light and see a faint smudge on its rim. You twist the cup around so your own mouth lines up with the imprint he left. You swallow the last bit slowly, savoring the way the sharp burn eases into a smooth, smoky aftertaste. You never liked scotch, but now you are starting to understand the meaning of an acquired taste.

The low atmospheric music is abruptly interrupted by an ad loudly cutting through the calm space. You rush into the living room to find the remote, hiding among the cushions and various throw pillows. Growing frustrated you end up walking over and manually hitting the power button. The silence that replaces it isn’t much better though. You step back and let your weak legs carry you until you collapse onto the comfort of your couch. The wine followed by the glass of scotch you polished off makes your head feel light but your limbs so heavy. You turn from your back to your side, realizing the used glass is still clutched in your hand.

You reach across the gap and set it down on the coffee table with a thud. Your hand retreats back to rest under your head. You stare at it, taking in all the imperfections left on its reflective surface. Your eyes trace the rim once again looking for the smudge. On the corner you see the shadow of an impression peeking out underneath the red lipstick mark you have smeared over it.

𝜗𝜚

Across the wall Simon falls back on his own couch. He looks around his dull apartment wondering what you have done differently to make your place look so welcoming. He never minded the minimal decorations he had. A photo frame with his team that his buddy gifted him and a couple of books always seemed like enough. After comparison though it just feels empty.

He can hear you stomp across your floor. Footstep rushing from the kitchen until you're straight ahead. The sound of your TV turning off bathes the room in sudden silence. Only thing he can hear now is the rushing of his air conditioning unit. He considered your music annoying but now he couldn’t deny the way it added an unconscious energy to the small unit. Now sitting here, the cool tone of the overhead kitchen light illuminating into the living room he feels as though something is missing. Maybe a nice lamp would help.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

@azkza @neurolept @contractedcriteria @hidden-treasures21 @sprokat @stark-red19

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2

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strawbeerossi · 7 months

Text

All Hallows Eve

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid x Derek Morgan x Luke Alvez

Description: You and your three very attractive coworkers get to talking about sex and kinks whenever you are left alone at David’s Halloween party.

Content/Warnings: Alcohol mention/consumption, kink discussion, just a pinch of peer pressure when it comes to Spencer opening up, some germaphobic mentions, MMMF foursome, oral (f + m rec), face fucking, anal fingering (f rec) , double penetration, cum play (various types including: creampie and cum swapping), unprotected sex, some nice Spencer aftercare.

Word Count: 5.6K

Kinktober Day Thirty One: Foursome

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

This one is fucking filthy. Thank you all for coming on this Kinktober adventure with me!

Halloween parties were typically held at Dave’s house. It just made sense considering how big the place was and the amount of space he had not only in the house but also in the backyard. Besides, David Rossi would never turn down hosting a party at his place. He enjoyed throwing any kind of event right in his own backyard. That also meant a few extra guest rooms for the wasted adults that would be at said event.

It was Halloween night, everyone gathered at their coworker’s house and settled in the backyard, enjoying the heat of a fire that the guys had all set up. JJ and Matt were absent, spending the night at home with their children to celebrate the spookiest holiday of the year. Drinks were flowing, Spencer even partaking in just one drink for the night as opposed to his normal sober status, allowing himself to join in the festivity that he was normally left out of. However, he could argue that he liked being sober on nights like this. There was always something comical about someone in the team getting inebriated to the point that they act like an absolute menace to society.

Thankfully, tonight wasn’t too bad. Despite Emily and Penelope indulging in the liquor that their host never seemed to run out of. It had gotten to a point later that night where you had to wrestle both women into bed in one of the many guest rooms already set up for the adults staying over. You’d managed to get the two plastered women settled into bed — Mainly because you laid horizontally over both of their bodies to keep them in place. It took about twenty minutes, however it wasn’t long until you’d heard the soft snores of Emily while Penelope was sleeping soundly while snuggled up under the sheets.

You had to lay there for a moment to collect yourself before pushing yourself out of bed, heading out of the room while gently pulling the door shut. Last thing you needed was to make too much racket and have to chase those two around again. “I feel like you all owe me for that.” You commented as you’d pulled open the back door, Spencer’s head lifting up from a book in his hand. “Better you than us.” He commented, which had the other men outside laughing. “Rossi turned in early. It’s just us.” Luke informed you, the absence of Dave being noticed. “Fun. What are you three doing?” You asked, heading to the chair closest to Spencer as you were sitting down.

“Nothing really. Derek and I were just talking while Spencer is too interested in,” Luke paused and leaned over the table to inspect the book cover. “Quantum Physics..” He crinkled his nose. There was never a dull book choice with Spencer, that was for sure. “Most guys would probably be talking about their sexual experiences by now. But our lovely Spencer Reid is reading about physics.” You teased, all in good fun as you teased the male sitting beside you.

“I prefer not to talk about sexual experiences.”

“Because he hasn’t had any.”

“Derek!”

The table had erupted into laughter minus Spencer who had the look of a kicked puppy. “I’ve had sex before.” He grumbled while putting his face back in his book. “You have? Really?” You asked while letting your eyebrow raise. “Why is that a surprise?!” He asked, suddenly taking offense as he was closing the book. “No! I’m not saying it’s a surprise but you just don’t look like the type!”

“How does one look like a virgin?” He quizzed you, hazel eyes narrowed as he stared at you, head tilted to the side slightly. He had you there. What were you supposed to say? You cleared your throat as you lifted up your nearly forgotten glass of wine, swirling the red liquid around the glass. “I’m not sure how to answer that.” You admitted, making the genius smile triumphantly. “Exactly. You don’t know.”

“Okay, Casanova. Tell us about it.” Derek was intrigued as he leaned against the table. Spencer wasn’t one to share his personal life as often, so maybe that one drink he had in the night could’ve loosened him up even just a little bit to talk about it. “What?” The curly headed male squeaked, now looking between the three of you as you all seemingly waited patiently for a story.

“I’ve had sex more than once.” He huffed.

“Okay. So pick a good experience to tell us about then.” Luke chuckled as he raised an eyebrow, elbows propped up on the table.

With pursed lips, Spencer was crossing his arms. “I have to?” He asked while you nodded. “Oh yeah, you definitely have to. You’ve got some secrets that we need to know right now.” You giggle. Even with his apprehension, the brunette took in a breath. “Okay.. I guess I could share it. I mean, I have been wanting to get out of my comfort zone so maybe this will be good?” You highly doubted that he’d jump from being nervous like this to being able to talk about sex explicitly. It would take him a bit.

“Come on, pretty boy. I'm bored to death.” Derek sighed dramatically while you were punching his shoulder with a loud, “Shush!!”

“You remember Max, I’m sure.” Which yes, everyone did. His short-term girlfriend who had her family taken hostage a while ago. “We do, go on.” You urged him on, arms crossed on the table top. “I think you’re a little too into this,” Luke commented, the commentary being met with a swift kick to his leg under the table.

“I really don’t know how to describe it? Like, sex is sex, right?”

“Any interesting kinks? Come on, kid. We know you aren’t as innocent as you think you are.”

“Interesting? Not really. I mean, I am a fan of face sitting but I think that is standard, right?” The words escaping his mouth had Spencer’s face bright red as he leaned back against the chair behind him. There were wolf whistles at the admission. “Doesn’t matter if it’s standard or not.” Luke chuckled while holding his glass up as if he were toasting to him while chuckling.

“Well, what’s not considered normal?” Now Spencer was curious as he looked between the three of you. He wasn’t a big kinkster, as anyone would imagine. The question had you, Derek and Luke exchanging looks. “Well. Mixopholia isn’t common, I don’t think. Which that’s enjoying watching yourself have sex. Could be in front of a mirror, recording it, anything like that. It can be really fun, in all honesty. Especially if you record and play it back.” You responded, only raising an eyebrow at the gaped mouths of your male coworkers. “What? You’ve never done that? Derek, come on. You can’t lie.”

“No, mama. I never had that idea.” He chuckled while shaking his head. “It’s good to know now, I’m gonna need to try it.” He added while Luke was too busy thinking of things he liked. “It’s probably not abnormal but I really like thighs. I feel like that would be the body part I’m most obsessed with, especially when it comes to thigh fucking. It can be better than penetration.” He hummed. Which, they were pretty standard things to be sexually aroused by, even if Spencer would’ve never thought of the two ideas.

“I think I like group sex. I don’t have it a lot, however it can be pretty great when you have the right group. I know it’s nonconventional. I’ve had all sorts of sex but I think I’ll always go back to that.” Derek spoke up while shrugging his shoulders. “A group?? Do you know many germs are exchanged in encounters like that?” Spencer asked, dumbfounded while the man in front of him waved him off. “It’s a good time. If you don’t believe it, then I highly suggest you at least try it before denying,” He chuckled.

Judging by Spencer’s look of morbid curiosity, he was considering it. “How does one even do that? I feel like you need to have connections..” Was Spencer really considering it? “You just have to find people you’re comfortable with.” Derek shrugged while tapping his hand against the table. There were a few moments of silence while Spencer’s brain was working overtime, you could swear smoke was coming out of his ears.

“I trust all of you.”

The words had your throat running dry. “Is that supposed to be an invitation?” You asked, your own curiosity shining through. You’d always considered Derek, Luke and Spencer as attractive, however you never considered having sex with all three of them. You had to admit, you really did enjoy the idea of getting passed around by some of the most attractive men on the team. The idea was enough to cause goosebumps to spread across your body. Surely it would be a bad idea to have sex with a coworker, much less three of them.

Spencer’s face was bright red as he put his hands up in self defense. “You don’t have to say yes but I would say that I wouldn’t mind sharing.. Germs..? With you guys.” He shrugged while shyly looking away. What a compliment from Spencer Walter Reid. The man who wouldn’t even give handshakes was willing to throw away his typical formula for three coworkers. “I am just saying!” He rambled on, now feeling self conscious at his admission.

“Now hold on. I think this idea could be beneficial.” Luke spoke up while chuckling. “I mean. We are all grown ups, right?” Your head nodded immediately after Luke put in his own two cents. “I agree with Luke. I mean, where’s the harm?! We are all friends anyway, I couldn’t imagine this being awkward for us.” Realistically, there were many issues with the idea of having sex with coworkers. You didn’t even care about them right now.

“Are you guys serious?” Derek asked, wide eyes from shock. “Why not? You mean to tell me that you’re gonna pass up sex?” You asked curiously while raising an eyebrow. “Well, no. I just.. Damn, I didn’t know tonight would end like this, that’s all.” He explained, being so flabbergasted at the idea of a foursome with his coworkers. “Might I suggest we move inside? I mean, the last thing we need is Rossi looking out the window and seeing us out here.” Luke began while nodding towards the window overlooking the backyard.

So, you did.

You had never been this excited before, your body buzzing with arousal and excitement. This was a sexual bucket list type thing for you, not something you could imagine doing regularly. Plus, having it be with Derek, Spencer and Luke just made it twenty times better. The minute you were closed in the guest room furthest from everyone else in the house, there was a bit of awkwardness as the four of you looked between each other. How does somebody kick something like this off? With strangers, it would be different but you all worked together.

This was a lot harder to start than you thought it would be.

“How about we ease ourselves into this?” Derek suggested, now looking between the other three people in the room. “Why don’t you give us a show?” He hummed while looking in your direction, your face flushed. “Like a strip tease?” The nod of his head solidified your suspicions, your head nodding as you watched the three men sit on the edge of the bed to face you. The intense gaze of three men was intimidating as all hell, especially when they had the look of hunger and desire burning holes through your skin.

Your movements were slow as you pushed the Halloween sweater up your body, tugging it over your head before tossing it somewhere else in the room. You hadn’t planned for this so you couldn’t get too dressed up, however the Halloween themed bra and panty set was cute and got the job done. Next was your leggings, which were slowly being pushed down your thighs as you were revealing the thin panties, a nice wet patch darkening the cotton. You liked this attention. You liked the idea of being ravished by three men who wanted to use you for their own pleasure.

It was exhilarating.

“Come here.” Derek was the first to speak up, his finger making a gesture to get you to come closer. You obliged, only letting out a squeak of surprise when you were being tugged in the man’s lap. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressed against your ass, brain clouded with arousal as you were letting your arms wrap around Derek’s shoulders. His hands were gripping your ass, eyes scanning over your body as he let out a low groan. There were no words exchanged, the man mesmerized by your nearly fully exposed body, his hands running up your hips before cupping your clothed breasts.

You let his hands continue to caress and explore every inch of skin, face hot as you were rocking your hips against his strained cock in his jeans. “You like this, don’t you? Like the attention of your friends and coworkers?” He questioned while an eyebrow raised, your head nodding as you let out a shaky breath from the friction of his jeans against your clothed clit, the roughness of his pants felt like heaven through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Who knew you’d be a whore? You want us to record this? Give you something to look back on whenever that little pussy of yours is desperate to be stuffed?” The words elicited a moan, your head nodding. “Fuck. Yeah.” You whined.

Luke was the one who was getting his phone, setting up the device on a lamp on the bedside table to get a clear view of the bed. You were caught off guard though when you were quickly pushed to the mattress, your back hitting the smooth sheets. Using your elbows to prop yourself up, you watched as Derek was patting Spencer’s shoulder. The brunette was already overwhelmed seeing you in your underwear, his face bright red as he could feel the tight constriction of his boxers around his cock.

“Go on, kid. You wanted to try this, didn’t you? Only fair you get to go first.” Derek commented while nodding his head to urge him on. The awkward male was clearing his throat as he was approaching the bed, your legs wrapping around his waist to welcome him as your hands then gripped his arm, gently tugging his lanky frame closer to you as you let your lips press against his. The sudden action had him taken aback, however the shock wore off rather quickly as his lips slotted with your own.

It was calm at first, until the desperation set in as the male above you. That was when the kids had grown messy, your fingers tangled in his brunette curls as his hips were grinding against you. Spencer would be the first to say that he was going to drink in the moment, to enjoy this while you allowed him to touch you in any way he pleased. It was no secret that the awkward, shy genius had a small crush on you, his behavior making it apparent more often than he realized. That was why he was taking his time, his tongue in your mouth as the germaphobe was surprising himself with his loss of apprehension to swap spit with you.

Much to both of your dismay, he was pulling out of the kiss. He made up for it though as his hands were coming up to cup your bra-clad breasts. A low groan left his lips as he kneaded at your soft, plush tits. One hand was slipping under you, his fingers quickly unclasping the article of clothing in his way and throwing it off to the side. He groaned, eyes fixated on your bare breasts. “You’re so pretty.” His voice came out in a pitiful whine, head dipping down to take your right nipple in his mouth.

The warmth of his tongue swiping over your hardened nub had your eyes fluttering shut, the man sucking and nipping at your sensitive nipple while his other hand was working to massage your other breast, nipple rolling between his fingers to give it the equal attention that it deserved. As he’d done his best to alternate, it wasn’t long until your chest was glistening with the remanent spit from his attack on your tits.

With his hungry eyes trailing down your body now, he was leaning down to press a few warm and wet open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Your fingers were quick to tangle in his soft brunette curls, head tilting back as his tongue trailed slowly down your stomach, nipping at your skin to leave a nice and big purple mark on your hip. The other men in the room had not been forgotten about however, your head tilting to the side to look at both Luke and Derek, the two men watching the scene play out in front of them, eyes blown out with lust and desire.

In a way, you felt like a gazelle in the presence of three starving lions, one already making his pounce onto you while the other two had calculated plans of their own. Spencer was blowing cool air on your glistening pussy, a satisfied hum leaving his lips as you clenched around nothing from sheer desperation. “Hold on,” Luke spoke up, his silence being short lived as Spencer was letting out a whine from his spot between your thighs. You didn’t expect Spencer to actually listen, however you weren’t able to question it as the other male was approaching the bed. “I have an idea. No need to get all teary eyed, Reid.” He spoke with a chuckle, the male between your thighs huffing as he backed away momentarily in order for Luke to throw you into a position.

The stark contrast between Spencer and Luke was something you were gracious for. The genius had a since of desperation, everything about him screaming that he wanted to drink in your essence and bask in the warmth coursing through his veins. The other had a clear motive in mind, the confidence to pick you up and move you into a position that he wanted you to be in. Both so different and yet so alike in the fashion of your thighs being sticky with your own arousal. With your body being turned horizontal, your head was now hanging off the bed which left very little to the imagination of what was coming next.

What you weren’t expecting though was Luke to nudge Spencer to the side when he was between your legs again, your left leg hanging off Spencer’s shoulder while your right was hanging off Luke’s. “Let’s put your germaphobia to the test.” Alvez just had to tease Spencer, a chuckle leaving his lips as he was leaning closer to your aching core. His tongue licked a fat stripe up your slit, a soft breath falling from your lips. You’d never thought of two men licking your pussy at once but the idea of it had butterflies going crazy in your belly.

Spencer was hesitant, looking at the spit mixed with your arousal. Before he could talk himself out of this idea and hide in the corner, he was leaning forward to lick the same spot the other man did. The comfortability was soon setting in as Spencer let his tongue flick over your clit, a sharp breath leaving your lips as you let a hand tangle in the mop of curls. Whenever the male began to suck and toy with your clit, Luke was bringing a hand to his mouth as he sucked at his fingers, eventually getting them settled at your entrance before pushing one of the digits inside of your desperate cunt, eliciting a moan as your head tilted back, still hanging over the edge of the bed.

As the two men between your legs alternated between licking at your weeping pussy or fingering you, Derek got a little bored of watching. While your head was tossed back, eyes fluttered shut as both skilled tongues were licking and sucking at your sensitive center, Derek worked on unbuttoning his pants as he approached where your head was hanging off the bed. “Alright, pretty girl. We are gonna put that mouth to good use.” He spoke, voice low and husky as he was retrieving his hard cock out of his pants.

Your mouth was practically watering as you took in the sight of the leaking tip of his cock, the shaft glistening from the beads of precum that were dripping from his slit. There was a lot going through your mind, however your body worked as if it was going off muscle memory.

As your desperate pussy clenched around someone’s fingers, your mouth was falling open to give the male above you the access that he needed. “That’s what I thought. Who would’ve known that you’d be such a whore?” He asked, an eyebrow raising as his hand tugged at his cock, slipping his cock past the threshold of your lips while his hand was running over your chest.

You were on cloud nine, even through the gagging on your coworkers cock to the point tears were brimming your eyes. There was a lot going on, so much that you couldn’t focus on everything at once. That was what prompted Derek to take control. With his body leaning at a certain angle, he didn’t hesitate before thrusting into your mouth to elicit a moan as your eyes were screwed shut.

The thrusts were rough and precise, the male abusing your throat and surely rubbing it raw as he used your mouth like a fleshlight. “She’s gonna cum. Do we let her do it, doc?” Luke’s voice spoke up, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as your walls fluttered around the three fingers pistoning in your swollen, desperate cunt. Spencer was all for it, pulling off of your throbbing clit with a ‘pop’. “I think she’s been good enough to deserve it.” He confirmed, watching as Luke pulled his fingers out of your pussy, eliciting a whine from your lips being muffled around Derek’s cock. Luke was gripping the back of Spencer’s hair, catching the man by surprise.

The next movements were quick, Spencer having his face pushed into your pussy once more while Luke kept an eye on your mannerisms. With Spencer licking and sucking at your sweetness and Luke practically jerking his head in different ways to take control himself, it wasn’t long until your legs were shaking. With your orgasm building and Spencer sensing you were close, he didn’t need Luke's guidance to push his face further in your warmth, the sinful sounds of slurping and sucking filling the room.

“Fuck. Cum on his tongue, make a mess of his face.” Derek growled as he glanced down at you, his cock twitching in your mouth. Whenever you were hitting your orgasm, the man fucking your throat followed right behind. You did your best to swallow what you could, however he was tapping your cheek after his cock was pulled from the warmth of your mouth.

“Hold on, keep some of it.” He spoke, which had you nodding slowly as you pushed yourself to sit up while glancing at the men between your legs. “Why don’t you share with Spencer?” He asked, arms crossed as Spencer looked at the man with wide eyes. “Huh?!” you were following the instruction, your hands cupping Spencer’s cheeks before you were pressing your lips against his. In the process of the male getting comfortable enough with the idea, you were pushing the remnants of Derek’s cum into the brunette’s mouth, slowly pulling out of the kiss while wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb.

Spencer wasn’t really fond of it, however he knew this was for the sake of experimentation and he wouldn’t have to do it again. Luke was the first one to stand up as he worked on getting his clothes off, not being able to stand being fully clothed and constricted any longer. “Come here.” He mumbled, now moving to sit on the edge of the bed while tugging your body into his lap, his cock against your wet cunt as you weren’t hesitating to roll your hips slowly. “Fuck.” You breathed, feeling the hardness of his cock slotting between your slick pussy lips as you were grinding against his lap.

“That’s right.” Luke purred while his hands were reaching behind to grip your ass, a soft hum leaving his lips as he squeezed the plushy skin into his hands with a bruising grip. With one of your hands reaching between the both of you, you were positioning the bulbous tip with your leaking hole, you were sucking in a breath as you were slowly sinking down on his hard cock. Much like Derek’s, Luke had a good amount of length and girth, his fat cock stretching out your walls with a pleasurable burn.

His hands were gently guiding your hips, starting the process of working out what was most pleasurable for the both of you. The movements were slow, your hands holding his shoulders in order to brace yourself as you surrendered control to Luke for the time being. “Ah!” You squeaked, a certain angle making him hit the perfect spot. “There it is.” He smirked, the next thrust being a rough snap of his hips that had your body bouncing in his lap, a drawn out moan falling from your lips. Your hands rested gently against his broad chest, nudging him to lay back as you got into a more comfortable position. With your hair falling over your shoulder, your head was tilting forward as your hips were rocking at a steady pace while the large hands were now moving up your torso to fondle your breasts in his hands. While his fingers pinched and stimulated your sensitive nipples, you were reduced to a whining mess as your hips picked up their pace in sloppy movements.

The sensitivity from your previous orgasm had you feeling overwhelmed, just the feel of every ridge and curve of Luke’s cock had your body with satisfaction. Of course, he had learned your tell when it came to you about to cum, the way your greedy pussy tried pulling more of his cock even though he gave you everything you could take. Right whenever your second orgasm was in your sights though, you were stopped. The firm grip on your hips weren’t Luke’s, no, they were Derek’s. He’d managed to get on the bed behind you at some point. “I feel like Spencer has been completely neglected.” He tsked, his head shaking. “I think I know how you can make it up to him though.” He mused.

You were confused and deprived of an orgasm, a whine leaning your lips as you were pushed forward, your bare chest smashed against Luke’s as your ass was in the air, giving the other two men a tasteful view of your pussy stuffed with Luke’s cock. Derek took initiative, reaching around your body as he was pushing three fingers into your mouth. You weren’t really aware of what the game plan was, however you were happy to suck and lube up his fingers for whatever he had planned. With one lubed up digit tracing the ring of your other hole, you were letting out a gasp of surprise. “Think you can handle it?” Derek asked.

It was the bare minimum, however you appreciated the search for consent before he went any further. “I-I think so? What’s the harm in trying?” You were pushing your ass back against Derek’s fingers more, anticipating how this was going to go. You’d experimented plenty, however you’d never thought to try anal. With everyone trying all sorts of new things tonight, you figured it would be fun.

You were holding tightly to Luke’s arms whenever the other man’s finger was gently pushing into your ring of muscle, a few tears being wiped away from his hand as he helped soothe you from the foreign intrusion. “Doing such a good job.” Derek’s voice spoke up, Spencer’s gaze being all too fixated on the way his finger was being tightly gripped. It made his cock twitch in his pants, his hands working to quickly get them off for after Derek got you fully prepared.

One finger turned to two, then two turned to three. You wouldn’t lie, you never expected to like the aspect of anal sex this much. Especially while being stuffed full of cock in one hole and getting fingers in another. It made you feel like a cock hungry whore, something that had your pussy clenching tight around Luke’s cock.

When you were considered prepared enough, Derek’s fingers were gently being pulled out of your hole. “Alright, Reid. Go for it. Think she’s ready to have both of her holes stuffed.” He chuckled, watching the brunette quickly getting on his knees on the mattress behind you when Derek moved. “You’re sure this is okay?” His voice was shaky as he asked the question, his dick throbbing from being neglected for the past few activities. “It’s okay. Please.” Your voice was in the form of a whine, feeling a whole new level of intoxication as soon as his slick tip was coming into contact with your asshole.

Spencer was groaning as he watched the way the hole was embracing the tip of his cock, his head tilting forward to send a string of spit to your desperate asshole. It was an action you hardly expected but you were embracing it as soon as you felt his cock pushing into you, a cry leaving your lips as a pool of drool was falling from the corner of your mouth and on Luke’s chest. This was too much, however you didn’t want it to end.

The two men had to come to an agreement, setting a pace where they wouldn’t rip you in half. Spencer’s large hands were gripping tight to your hips, nails digging into your flesh and surely leaving crescent indents in your soft skin. That was when Derek was retrieving the phone on the bedside table, approaching the bed as he played cameraman. “Look at her taking two cocks at the same time. Can you believe how much of a whore she is?” His voice was cold, yet not enough to be outright hurtful.

As Spencer was thrusting, your body was moving slightly as you were pretty much reduced to a little fuck doll that both Luke and Spencer were using for their own gratification. Your body was reduced to a pile of malleable clay in their hands, both men working out a system where they could reduce you to a crying and whining mess. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you were whining and moaning with each rough thrust. “You look like an angel. So pretty when you’re fucked out.” Derek cooed, the phone being moved to reveal your wet chin from drool, your eyes glossed over from the tears from overstimulation, even the way you laid all your weight on Luke’s chest as you were reaching your orgasm, walls clamping down onto the male’s cock.

There were a few more thrusts from Luke before you could feel a fish of warmth, his cum filling your spent pussy as you were shivering from the sensation. Spencer was the next one to reach his orgasm, spilling his seed into your tight hole as he was letting out a guttural groan. It was something that didn’t even sound like Spencer. You were so blissed out that you didn’t even remember whenever Luke gently lifted you off or his softening dick, laying you back on the mattress while your head was resting against the fluffy pillow that Spencer propped it up with.

“We should get you cleaned up.” Spencer cooed, his hands moving to gently rub your inner thighs to help relax your aching muscles from the new position you were just put into. Derek was nodding as he was getting himself dressed again. “We can run her a bath and help her get cleaned up. The bathroom is just next door.”

Spencer was the one to head out, reaching the bathroom and getting the bathtub ready with some bubble bath he found in one of the bathroom cabinets. Derek and Luke were both helping you stand and walking with you to the bathroom since you were still quite out of it. “Do you want all of us to stay here with you?” Luke asked while lowering you into the water once your bath was ready. For the first time in ten minutes, you were looking up at the three men with the same fucked out look in your eyes. “Spencer.” You whined gently, while the other two men were patting the brunette’s back before heading out of the bathroom to get the room cleaned up.

“Get in.” You slurred, the man not having to be told twice as he was stripping himself down once more and gently lifting you in order to get into the water before letting you lean back against his chest. “Thank you.” You yawned, feeling the warmth of his hands as he was massaging your body to help relax you even further. “You don’t have to thank me, silly. I’m here to help.” He assured you while pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good. Hopefully we can relive this night in the future. Just the two of us.”

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aezuria · 2 months

Text

*ੈ✎ be my, be my baby!

—be my baby; the ronettes

content: leo valdez x daughter of aphrodite! reader

╰┈▸ back cover: part I | part II | part III

╰┈▸ warnings: cursing

librarian's annotations: guys i realize this would technically be a twoshot.. ANYWAY yall already KNEW i had to make a part 2 also i had to search up 'villain hand pose' to get the word STEEPLE -the more you know ig

loveloveyn shared a note "mom if ur reading this set me up with yk who I BEG"

you sighed and put down your phone. this was honestly getting embarrassing. you hadn't even had a single conversation with the love of your life! maybe you'll sacrifice an extra nice portion of your breakfast to aphrodite. yeah, that's what you'll do.

you hated to say goodbye to the best part of your maple-syrup drenched pancakes, but it was for the greater good. please give me a real sign mom!! you prayed silently as you scraped the rest of your plate into the fire.

love wastes no time apparently, because as soon as you turned around to walk back to your table, leo stops short in front of you with his plate, the both of you almost bumping into each other. oh my gods. you've never been this close to him before! "uh, sorry." you muttered and walked around him before he could see how embarrassed you were.

'uh, sorry!?' what the hell is wrong with me!? you went back to your table, mortified at your awkwardness. where was your charisma when you needed it!? you put your head in your hands. piper noticed and poked you. "what's up with you? love problems again?"

you stayed stagnant, staring into space. "i think i'm the problem."

alldaladiesluvleo sent a message to: water, fire, air, and frank "BIG RED BUTTON"

jason ran into bunker 9, percy and frank mere steps behind him. "what's going on? what's the emergency?" he leaned against the door, panting. percy was doubled over on his knees, frank not looking much better.

leo swiveled around in his chair and put his elbows on the desk in front of him. his hands a steeple in front of his mouth, making him look like a villain talking to his henchmen. this was probably the most serious he's looked in his life.

"as you all know, everyday i have dedicated my offerings to the goddess of love, hoping to receive a sign to pursue fajita." he paused for the ultimate dramatic effect. "and i have gotten an answer."

the three boys broke out into a flurry of overlapped reactions.

"are you still calling her 'fajita?'" jason raised his eyebrow, focusing too much on the small details. it was a very unconventional codename.

"i love fajitas, and i love her!" leo broke his stoic attitude for a second. "it makes perfect sense!"

frank's tired expression morphed into a very, very, unamused look. "you used the emergency codeword for this?"

"hey! the big red button was absolutely necessary!"

"oh. my. gods," percy gasped, immediately standing up straight. "no way."

leo nodded solemnly, back on his stoicism. "yes way."

jason looked at him skeptically. "are you sure it was a sign sign? or are you just being delusional again?"

the curly-haired boy shot him a look, though not very intimidating. "i am completely sure! i specifically said, 'please make her bump into me as a sign' and guess what happened at breakfast!?" his serious front gave way into an ecstatic smile. "she did! that's the most definite sign i've gotten!"

frank and jason had a silent conversation with each other. wait, that is the most definite sign he's gotten. frank's eyes seemed to say. did her mom finally listen to his begging? jason's eyes responded. percy was too busy jumping for joy and congratulating leo to notice.

the boy in question was jumping along with him, before clearing his throat. "guys. i'm gonna follow her." he pulled out his phone to prove it.

shocked gasps ensue. they all crowd around him, looking over his shoulder as he went to your profile. the bright blue 'follow' button stared back at him, taunting him. he took a deep breath of courage and pressed it. the button smiled and turned into a more forgiving grey of 'requested.'

"i did it." leo looked at his friends in disbelief. "i did it!"

"he did it," jason and percy breathed out.

"you know you still have to wait for her to accept, right?"

"oh, fuck you, frank! you ruined the moment!"

loveloveyn sent a message to: so coquette 🎀🏹🔪 "CODE RED I REPEAT CODE RED"

mere moments after you sent that text, piper came running with hazel and annabeth in tow. they caught sight of you laying in the grass and rushed over. annabeth knelt before you, shaking your shoulder. "y/n!? oh my gods are you dead!?"

you opened your eyes and blinked up at her. "oh hey guys, you're here!"

the blonde was very much not amused. her cheeks were tinted a dusty shade of rose as you were in fact, not dead and she had made a fool out of herself. (it really wasn't that embarrassing, you're okay girl!) "so what's the emergency? i thought we agreed to use that in important situations."

you sat up straight, almost knocking her head in the process. "this is super important. like, the events of my life have aligned perfectly and created this moment. wrench.." you paused, also for dramatic effect. "followed me."

the three of them stared at you, disbelieving.

so, you turned on your phone and went to your instagram notifications. there, at the top, it said:

alldaladiesluvleo requested to follow you. 1m

"oh my gods," they said in unison as they stared at your phone in shock.

"hurry! accept it!" hazel insisted, and shook your arm.

"wait, don't do it right now! give it like, a couple hours," piper shook your other arm.

annabeth stayed silent, probably pondering the pros and cons of both choices. you were quiet too; for an entirely different reason, that being a well-thought out love life of you and leo, reaching all the way into marriage. what type of house should we get? how many kids will we have?

"in fifteen minutes." annabeth finally spoke up, startling you from your nice home life built inside your head. "accept it in fifteen minutes. that way, he won't think you don't like him by waiting hours, but he won't know how desperate you are if you accept right now."

"was that jab really necessary!?" you huffed, but you knew she was right. "alright, fifteen minutes it is." you went to your clock app and set a timer.

"did you seriously just set a timer?" piper asked incredulously.

"how else am i supposed to know when exactly to follow my man!?"

librarian's annotations: THERES GONNA BE A PART 3 I JUST WANTED TO SEPARATE THEM

#*ੈ✎ stories #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #hoo #heroes of olympus #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo hoo toa #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n

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catscidr · 5 months

Note

Could I request head canons with reader who likes to cook and clean and is basically like a house wife. Dottore and Childe please ☺️

(oﾟ◇ﾟ)ﾉ perhaps you can............. i did my best to try to make these not too redundant , so forgive me if they're a little repetitive sometimes. the tldr is just that they love their cute wife (you) shgjngfns ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff! domestic fluff!! talks of food, mentions of having a family, childe's part gets a teensy bit suggestive includes: fem!reader, dottore and his clones, tartaglia wc: 1,2k

-ˋˏ It’s a popular headcanon that Dottore has a sweet tooth and I’m here to contribute to it bc I’m a firm believer in the Man Bad But Secretly Soft trope.......

-ˋˏ You often find yourself baking desserts for him to eat when he gets home from work and, on the rare occasions that he’s home while you’re baking, you make him taste-test the dessert you’re currently making

-ˋˏ He’s actually decent at baking (it’s just food science and he’s The Science Guy), however he doesn’t particularly enjoy doing it. But you do! You love doing acts of service for him, which is why you got promoted from housewife to personal-pastry-and-dessert-expert housewife (said endearingly)

-ˋˏ Good ol’ chocolate chip cookies, maple pudding, red velvet cake, lemon meringue pie, tiramisu, mille-feuille; you'd make so many desserts that he had to buy a chef-grade refrigerator on top of your regular fridge to store them. Not that he minded of course, but sometimes he’d lightly scold you for making so many unhealthy foods (all the while being a hypocrite himself because he’s the one enabling you)

-ˋˏ Has a mini fridge in his office full of desserts (and the occasional homemade sandwich, for variety). He always has to restock it because his segments always get into it and eat his sweets that you made for him

-ˋˏ When he tells you about it you end up giving him two extra tupperware containers full of sweets that you insist he gives to his segments, especially the younger ones. If he doesn’t, you’ll just show up to his lab and give your freshly baked desserts to them yourself

-ˋˏ Sometimes Dottore tries to bake with you, but you always get frustrated that he never makes the desserts look nice. He just takes up space in your shared kitchen when he tries to help; which you tell him that by staying out of your way he’s helping

-ˋˏ You’re also the designated cook since he doesn’t really have any skills in the kitchen outside of knowing the technical stuff. The man is too busy fiddling with machines and organs to know about how to properly sear a steak

-ˋˏ His favorite meal of yours is a simple steak paired with a good, dry Malbec. You’re always setting up the table when he gets back from work, to which he always hugs you from the back to greet you. One time you didn’t hear him come in and you accidentally dropped the plate you were holding (you made him eat it as punishment. five second rule)

-ˋˏ On the rare times he works from home you insist that he doesn’t need to help you with chores, no matter how much he offers (which wasn’t that often to begin with, but at least he offered. like..... once). Instead, he’d get settled on the kitchen table while you wash the dishes, vacuum, etc

-ˋˏ Some days you’d be in comfortable silence, while on other days you’d listen to him ranting about how irritating his coworkers are, or about how much he wants to fire some of his underlings because they’re “so incompetent”. Thankfully you can calm him down before he,, makes an angry phone call

-ˋˏ You don’t get the chance to visit him at work that often, so you revel in the times where he’s able to work from home. But since you can’t go see him that often, it means you don’t see his clones either

-ˋˏ The older segments would refrain from asking about you (because you’re Prime’s wife, not theirs. he’s yelled at them multiple times about it. bro’s possessive) while the younger ones would consistently bother him about your whereabouts. He insists that he hates it when they ask, but inwardly he imagines how you’d take care of them. (is it to heal his inner child or to imagine how good of a mother you could be? maybe both, but he wouldn’t admit to the former)

✧✧✧

-ˋˏ Childe would have been your housewife if he wasn’t a Harbinger. point blank

-ˋˏ Buuuut, since he isn’t, he makes sure to take care of you. You’re always cleaning after him, cleaning him sometimes, and overall taking up more tasks than he thought you could (should) chew. Of course, you did it all out of love and didn’t expect him to owe you anything, but he’d feel bad if he didn’t help at least a little bit

-ˋˏ So once or twice a week (depending on when his schedule allows it) you’ll both be cleaning the house and doing chores together

-ˋˏ You’re both listening to music while sweeping the floor, reorganizing the pantry, wiping down the counters..... getting as much done as you can before Childe decides he’d rather have you sat up on a counter while he nestles himself closer to you

-ˋˏ He always buys the best appliances for your sake since you’re the one that’s home most of the time. That one really expensive, cordless vacuum cleaner you saw at the store? He bought it. A duster with a retractable handle that can help you reach the top of shelves without you needing to stand on a chair to clean? Childe bought it before you could even ask. That really cute cherry-shaped deep dish with matching baking utensils you saw at the store together? He’s carrying it to your car right now

-ˋˏ Though while he does buy really useful things, he balances it out by getting you unnecessary items. Like a frilly pink apron with Kiss the cook embroidered in cursive on it, or a soup ladle that looks like the Loch Ness monster but I digress

-ˋˏ Childe is 100% a family man- so, as a result, he's thought about having his own family with you. After seeing you indulging Teucer and his siblings’ shenanigans, he absolutely wants to have kids with you and have you do things like read books to them, make them lunch to bring to school, etcetc

-ˋˏ Loves to come back home from work to you, smelling the fresh aroma of dinner wafting in the air

-ˋˏ He loves your cooking!! Can’t get enough of it, especially when he comes back from training and he’s all spent. Whether it be your homemade soup, a hearty meaty meal, or a pasta dish he’ll always devour whatever you make

-ˋˏ You make extra portions of chicken, steak, whatever protein-filled meal when he’s bulking so he can bring leftovers to work to eat them after sparring sessions. It makes everyone else jealous (which is partly his intention lol)

-ˋˏ Boasts about you to his coworkers and agents below him, always saying “my wife” with a lovesick smile on his face

-ˋˏ Has a whole bunch of photos of you in his office, ranging from cute candid pictures to professional, framed photos on his desk, and a tasteful polaroid of you in his wallet. Adores showing you off to others (except the photo he has in his wallet, of course. that’s for his eyes only), so much so that sometimes his underlings try to come up with excuses to leave because he goes on and on and on........ what can he say, he loves his cute housewife !!

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x afab reader #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #childe x fem!reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #childe x afab reader #tartaglia x afab reader

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

Text

I'll Carry You - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: Third Person POV Focused on Hangman; Fem!Reader - only description is that the reader is a woman; No use of Y/N

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Hangman and his wife attend a naval ball. When her shoes give her blisters, Hangman ensures that she gets back to the car comfortably.

A.N. Disclaimer - I've never been to a naval ball, but it just works as the setting of the story. Sorry for any inaccuracies.

Master List

Naval balls were always long nights full of humorous fun and a lot of naval politics, which Jake both enjoyed and detested. If he wasn’t so intent upon climbing up the ladder as quickly as possible, he wouldn’t have cared for any of it.

But luckily, Jake had his wonderful wife by his side the whole night to help him keep his sanity.

Jake had no trouble selling himself—he never had that problem, as anyone who knew him would have pointed out—but his wife knew how to rein him in. She pinched him when he was supposed to simply shut up. She always managed to soften his edges and smooth out his more abrasive tendencies, which many people pointed out.

It was their first naval ball as a married couple and well, if Jake wasn’t allowed to brag about his career, he was going to brag about his wife.

Her dress drew compliments from the admiral’s wives and eyes from some of the younger men in uniform. But Jake stuck to his wife’s side like glue and he was never shy about wrapping his arm firmly around her as a metaphorical middle finger to the horny boys who seemed to think that they could just stare at her and Jake wouldn’t notice.

And as for the starers from his squadron, some of them would be doing extra pushups tomorrow.

And of course, the newlyweds had fight off several questions about when a little Seresin would be joining them like they were Olympic fencers. And his wife always seemed to be able to sense the question coming because the number of times that she pulled his drink away from his lips right before someone asked some version of it was scarily high.

Jake had to commend his wife for her composure that night. He knew that she wasn’t exactly the most social person, but she put up a calm smile and chatted politely just the same.

And even when the captain that Jake was trying to butter up mispronounced her name three times, she never dropped her wide ‘work’ smile. It wasn’t her usual smile, the smile that she shot him when they danced or he pulled her just a little closer into his side.

But Jake could see his wife’s work smile dimming and the exhaustion setting in her eyes.

Jake gently grabbed his wife’s hand and rubbed his thumb along her own. He also had a sneaking suspicion that her shoes were uncomfortable based on the weird stutter she started to walk with. And so, even though he knew that some of the other aviators gunning for the same promotion that he was were going out to the bar to sweet talk the brass, he had other priorities.

“Thank you for talking with me, sir. But I’m afraid we’ll have to excuse ourselves for the night,” Hangman stated politely.

“Of course, of course,” the captain replied with a kind. Jake felt his wife’s hand press on his back just as the captain added, “Off to relieve the babysitter?”

“No, just need to check on the dogs, sir,” Jake lied, forcing his usual work smile.

They didn’t have a dog waiting for them back home but the captain didn’t need to know that. And it was just an easier response that ended the conversation on a faster note.

“Oh, of course. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Hangman. And it was nice meeting you, Mrs. Seresin.”

“It was nice meeting you as well, Captain,” she responded with a kind nod.

Jake squeezed his wife’s hand and led her over to the Dagger table to say goodbye to everyone. And after several hugs of goodbye, the Seresins finally walked out of the event space. Once they were out of view of the vestibule, Jake led his wife over to one of the benches.

“Sit,” Jake urged her despite her confused expression.

But when he reached down for her ankle, she quickly put the pieces together. Smiling softly, she leaned back and rested her body weight on her hands.

“How did you know?” she asked softly as he undid the strap on one of her shoes.

“You were walking funny. And leaning on me more than usual,” Jake replied, pulling off her shoe and reaching for the other. “You could have just told me.”

“I know. But it’s hardly the first pair of shoes that have given me blisters before.”

“Still,” Jake stated, placing her shoes on the bench beside her, “tell me next time when it hurts.”

“I will,” she promised softly as Jake stood up. She glanced out at the parking lot as she straightened up herself. “Should I really be walking through the parking lot barefoot, though?”

“Who said that you were walking?”

“Jake, you really don’t have to carry me,” she insisted, shaking her head. “I’m fine. I’ll just put my shoes back on in a second.”

“It’s not like it’s the first time that I’ve ever carried you,” Jake pointed out, causing his wife to sigh.

“Just don’t drop me,” she replied, standing up.

With practiced ease, she bunched up her dress a bit and climbed up onto his back. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as Jake hooked his arms underneath her knees. Once he was sure that she was secure on his back, Jake leaned over to grab her shoes and turned for the parking lot.

His wife rested her head on top of his own and pulled off his hat so that she could press a proper kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re such a showoff, Seresin,” she murmured, running her hand through his soft hair.

“And you love it, Seresin,” he shot right back at her with a grin.

#top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #hangman fanfiction #hangman fluff #jake seresin #hangman x wife!reader

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 9 months

Text

Nights Spent In; Azul Ashengrotto

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established relationship

Word Count; 700+

Author's Note; This is for one of my first mutuals @azulashengrottospiano! I hope you enjoy this, and some domestic Azul! [and I'm keeping a screenshot of your ask ^v^]

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Safe to say your social battery was pretty much at zero. You had fun, yes, but all you wanted to do was stay at home in some ridiculously comfortable pyjamas, eat leftovers from lunch, cuddle a bit, and maybe look through the storage container labelled Games! :D since there could be some hidden gems in there. And right now you were cuddled up under a super chunky knit blanket, snug as a bug in a rug.

You were content just putting the leftovers from lunch in the microwave, but Azul had insisted that he made the both of you dinner. You didn’t mind, since you had a nice view of him working away in the kitchen, muttering the recipe of tonight’s dinner to himself. He was even wearing the frilly apron and kitschy oven mitts.

What a dork. I love him so much. You giggled to yourself, watching Azul go about the kitchen, off in his own little world.

Sighing, you got up — the blanket draped over your shoulders so you were still in your nice blanket burrito — and shuffled over to the Games! :D container, seeing if there was anything interesting that Azul wouldn’t just automatically win. You loved him, but if he made you go bankrupt again in this world’s version of Monopoly one more time you swore that you weren’t going to give him any kisses. You may love him, but he was not a humble winner.

So any strategy games were completely out the window, luck based games were more on your side… hopefully luck just decided to favour you tonight. At least you had a cute chef at the least.

Hmm? What’s this? Blowing off the dust you pulled out an old edition of Snakes and Ladders. It relied only on luck, so it was perfect!

“Hey, sweetie,” you called to the kitchen.

Azul was just placing your dinner in the oven, it would take about thirty minutes to bake, so he had time to spare… and for you? He could spare all the time in the world for you. “What is it, darling?”

You held up the game under your chin and gave him your biggest smile. “Wanna play?” You waggled eyebrows for some added flair, and it made Azul chuckle.

“Fine, one round, but I won’t go easy on you,” he said, sitting down at the coffee table. He eyed the game, and squinted his eyes at the dice. A luck-based game? Playing your cards right I see.

“You never do,” you shot him a wink and rolled the dice. You moved your piece forward, not hitting any ladders.

Azul rolled his eyes, but took his turn, overtaking you by two spaces, also not hitting any ladders. “Would you rather that I did?” He looked up at you through his lashes, a small smug smile on his face.

You hummed as you took your turn, getting a ladder and going up a row. “No, it’s more fun like this, plus you’re extra cute when you get fired up.”

Azul pushed up his glasses, trying to ignore the warmth that had seeped into his cheeks. “Flattery won’t help you, my dear, when I win.”

“We’ll see about that.~”

The rest of the game was spent in silence, the occasional tch escaping when either of you hit a snake, but the game was neck in neck. You had to roll a perfect six to win, and Azul a four, and it was his turn. The both of you had your fingers crossed.

He rolled a two, the exact number that he didn’t want. He moved his piece forward and gritted his teeth as he moved it down two rows. He sighed, handing over the die. He knew that he had most likely lost this game.

You gently took it, and rolled a six. You had won. “Looks like luck was on my side tonight,” you grinned.

Azul grumbled, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. “Would you like a prize for that?” It was part sarcasm, but also part genuine question.

You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Just spending time with you is a prize in its own right… but I won’t say no to your cooking either!”

It wasn’t really a prize, as you were already getting his cooking for dinner, but it nonetheless made Azul feel soft and warm. The two of you really should spend more nights in if they were going to be like this.

~~~~~~~

Tags: @eynnwwyjth, @hydra-sea, @inkybloom-luv, @identity-theft-101, @krenenbaker, @officialdaydreamer00, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

#dove does events #follower event #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x gn reader #sha la la la my oh my! go on and ~kiss da 'zul~#you cannot tell me that he wouldn't wear a frilly apron; he's a nerd you know he would #would it even be called snakes and ladders in twst? ... eels and ladders???#idk but it would be funny if azul was silently cursing out the tweels #also; idk if you remember your ask BUT you did in fact request the same 3 people as last time ^v^ that was also a part of why i tagged you #- in the vil drabble. i diagnose you with azul trey and vil brain rot #this is technically a bonus drabble #scheduled post since idk if i'll be busy or not #hope you enjoy auburn; and thank you for supporting the soul match au in it's infancy ^v^

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seonghwaddict · 10 months

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★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 009 ] flowers on vines.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. mildly suggestive content, implication of size kink. word count. 3k

　　　　　　　　chapter viii // chapter ix // chapter x

With a week left for the project, thirteen out of the fourteen had come and gone with the snap of a finger. You were aware time seemed to go so fast because of the person you were partnered with. Wooyoung had a way of getting the most stubborn of people to have the most fun. Meeting with him—and his friends, or, you supposed, your friends—nearly every day a week for months, it wasn’t a surprise that it went by so quickly.

You worked very well together, a shock to you initially but after getting so close to him it made sense. Not to mention how close you’ve gotten to his friends, who you now also considered some of your own best friends and loved. Not that you loved them, but you thought they were cool and fun and nice and unbelievably handsome and-

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a knock on your studio door that cut through the music playing from your bluetooth speaker. Well, “studio” was a bit of an exaggeration.

When you and Sangmi first moved into this apartment, it became apparent to the two of you that there was an extra room. Of course, knowing that she was a dance student and probably practised for the majority of the day, you let her have the extra room but she quickly shot you down and told you to use it for your art instead. It wasn’t spacious enough to be a dance studio, anyway.

There was space for your assortment of shelves and easels, a long table stretched the length of the wall under the single window in the room, paint tubes, brushes and palette knives scattered all over the surface and various filled sketchbooks, new and scrapped canvases crammed just below the table on the equally long shelf.

You set a small couch next to the door, the wall behind it decorated with several of your paintings you favoured over the others. Sometimes, while you were working, you let Sangmi sit on the couch and relax, either watching you or doing something of her own as you enjoyed each other’s presence.

You set your paintbrush down next to your palette on the table and wiped your paint stained hands on a cloth before opening the door.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the dance studio for a few hours.” Sangmi told you as you stepped aside to let her in. She looked at the painting of Wooyoung you were working on, the reference picture a screenshot of the dance video he filmed, taped to the top part of the easel. “Oh, it’s coming along so well!”

Over the past weeks she’s been checking on you and your progress, reminding you to eat whenever you get too carried away with painting. She’s seen all the stages and all the discarded versions of the painting, as well as all your frustration when you couldn’t get things to look quite right.

The canvas was fairly large, a magnificent oil painting of Wooyoung finally living up to your visions on the fabric—so you figured there wouldn’t be a need for smaller paintings as well. The dance was a contemporary one, choreographed to a song that made use of traditional instruments and performed on the stage of the university’s auditorium. The part you chose to paint was an almost breathtaking point of the choreography where he switched from sharp movements to an almost trance-like slowness, looking up with one hand elegantly reaching upwards. There was no denying his talent.

The lighting from the stage’s spotlight was already dramatic, but you tweaked it on your canvas, adding more contrast and a soft glow to his illuminated features to create a more jarring effect. He looked ethereal with the way you painted him.

A couple minutes later, Sangmi left and you could continue painting in peace. Well, until the doorbell rang, at least. With a groan, you set your paintbrush down and walked into the hall to see who you needed to buzz in. As soon as you saw who was waiting outside the building, your eyes lit up and you wasted no time in hitting the button to unlock the door.

You practically ran to the bathroom to wash the paint off your fingers. By the time he arrived at your door, you already cleaned yourself up a bit and made a bit of an effort to sort out your messy hair. With a deep breath, you opened the door and practically threw yourself on him.

“Gosh, I thought I’d never see you again!” You pretended to cry into his chest as your embraced him tightly.

But Yunho only chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

You were only half joking. With you focused on your painting and him having to attend shootings and rehearsals for the end of year movie of the acting students, you hadn’t seen each other in a while. Each of the artistic majors had some kind of collaborative showcase near the end of the year; this year art majors and dancers worked together, the film majors worked with the actors, and the music majors worked with the theatre students. For that reason, you couldn’t find a lot of time to see half of the boys in general.

“That’s an ironic thing to say for an actor.” You stepped away from him with a giddy laugh, noticing the bags in his hand and pointing at them. “What’s that?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Yunho smiled and walked past you to set the bags on the small breakfast table between the kitchen and living area. “I brought food. I didn’t know what you wanted,” he began taking different containers out of the bags, “so I got a variety—some soups, tteokbokki, fried chicken, japchae, gimbap and, of course, rice.”

“Thank you so much, but really didn’t have to get all this-“

He cut you off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, I want to treat you to some delicious food.”

After a moment of you biting your lips with uncertainty, you nodded gratefully and moved to the kitchen to grab utensils and bowls.

The two of you conversed comfortably as you stuffed yourselves full with the food he brought. You asked about the movie but he’d only give you answers so vague he may not have said anything at all; “What is it about?” “Well, you know, characters and stuff.” “Yunho, please!” “Ok, ok, fine… it’s a romance and involves characters.”

Though you didn’t really notice it, he paid a lot of attention to you. Whether you were talking or just eating, he was constantly taking notes in his mind. When you briefly mentioned a movie you liked, he later reminded himself to watch it when he had the time. Or when your eyes gave a slightly different reaction to a particular dish that showed you enjoyed it, he later reminded himself to make sure to order that dish next time he brings you food. Even when he was the one talking, he was so focused on the warmth in your face as you listened to him that he nearly lost his train of thought several times.

You told him about the progress of your painting, but adamantly refused to show it to him even when he begged so prettily. However, he quickly quelled his curiosity as you said something about wanting to surprise him and the rest of the guys. Something unfamiliar in his chest clenched when you giggled at his pout, reaching your hand over to pat his forearm.

“But I want to see your paintings!” He huffed jokingly, making you laugh again.

“I can just paint something for you out here.”

He seemed to be considering the offer for a while and then his pout disappeared, his eyes lighting up even though there was a darker glint in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. A smirk spread across his face.

“What if… you paint me?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ve thought about using you as a reference so-”

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” he let out a mischievous little chuckle that twisted your stomach, “I mean, what if you paint on me?”

“O-oh…” Mildly surprised by the request, you blinked. “Are you, um… are you sure you’d want that?”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. “Of course I do! But if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you don’t have to.”

With a newfound determination to make him happy, you nodded and got up, telling him to stay where he was seated while you went to grab some paint. Deciding oil paints weren’t the best idea, you settled on gouache, something between watercolour and acrylic that would wash off easily. You grabbed a few clean brushes and walked out with everything in your hands.

The sight that waited for you in the living room had your breath caught in your throat. Yunho was still there, as you had asked, but he had gone to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to lay on the floor.

He was on top of the towel.

Laying face down.

Shirtless.

You were glad he wasn’t facing you, otherwise he would’ve seen the way you had to turn around to pull yourself together. There was no denying how well-built Yunho’s body was—or any of their bodies, in fact—but seeing it so bare, despite only seeing his back, did things to you. For the sake of the friendship, you swallowed down the nervousness bubbling inside you and turned back around, grabbing a cup of water and a small towel from the kitchen before walking to where he laid himself down and kneeling next to his body.

You set your supplies next to you and took a breath. He sensed you next to him and turned his head to look at you sideways.

“Something wrong, tiny?”

The nickname only added into that static feeling of nervousness but you still shook your head, beginning to dip one of the brushes in water. “Everything’s fine, just relax, please.”

Yunho nodded and sighed softly, turning his head to the other side and closing his eyes. As you inspected your colour palette, you took a moment to think of what to paint on him. What would he like?

Finally, you decided to just let your hands take over instead of thinking about it too carefully. Knowing him, he’d be happy no matter what you decided to draw. Holding your breath, you let the brush lathered with paint touch his skin. There was no mistaking the way the hair at the nape of his neck stood up with goosebumps as he shivered ever so slightly. You briefly apologised about the paint being cold, but he didn’t mind at all.

You drew a wavy, thin, sage green line from his left shoulder diagonally down to the left side of his waist, watching as the damp bristles glided over his muscles. They weren’t as defined as an athlete’s, but they were there, soft indications of his fitness.

As you let your mind and paintbrush wander, you found yourself turning that line into a vine of flowers and leaves. The style was almost impressionistic, barely abstract and precise smudges of colours that resembled plants you didn’t know the names of. With each stroke of the brush and twitch of his muscles, your shoulder relaxed and you let yourself bask in the moment just as he was.

Soon enough, you were happy with your creation and sat back to inspect it. Feeling the absence of your brushstrokes, Yunho turned his head to look at you again.

“Done?”

You tilted your head one way and then the other, looking at it from different angles before nodding with satisfaction. He gave you a toothy smile.

“Do you wanna do the front too, tiny?”

“Sure- wait, what?” Your eyes snapped to his, his question making your face feel warm. Painting on his naked front torso seemed considerably more… intimate than painting on the plane of his back.

“Yeah, like, paint on the front? Maybe you can connect the designs.”

And so you found yourself painting a similar vine on his chest after he laid himself on his back—of course, he had waited until you told him the paint was dry in fear of ruining your hard work. This vine started from his waist where the vine on his back ended and creeped up to his neck, disappearing behind his ear.

Throughout the process, you had to keep reminding yourself not to let your hands indulge in a few caresses of his porcelain skin, gaslighting yourself into believing he was just a canvas. But the way he was looking at you didn’t help much.

His eyes almost looked glossy as the reflection of the ceiling lamp’s light danced in them, looking at you with something you could only compare to adoration. You didn’t hate it at all, but you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

You also weren’t sure how you ended up in this position. At some point you must’ve been so focused, you didn’t notice him move you to sit on his upper thighs. Straddling him. But you didn’t want to make things awkward and move off him (not to mention that you greatly liked this position), so you stayed and continued your work from on top of him. You desperately tried to ignore the size difference that seemed so much more obvious when you were on him like this while he, on the contrary, revelled in it.

And at first you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your rib cage. But the erratic beating soothed itself; it calmed down quickly when it came to terms with the fact that you were safe in his vicinity. He was safe.

Painting his front was similar to his back, his muscles twitching every time you brushed over them with paint. Now that you were seeing him like this, you nearly asked him never to put on a shirt again.

You found yourself adding details that were ultimately meaningless and would most definitely go unnoticed, but you weren’t quite ready to move away from him. Not when he was looking at you with such round, tender eyes.

“Can I take a picture of this?”

His voice seemed slightly deeper than usual, perhaps because he hadn’t used it in a while. His question briefly caught you off guard, but you realised that it was kind of cute, really. So you nodded without lifting your eyes from the area you were painting just next to his abs.

Yunho’s hand reached over to the coffee table and he slid his phone off the surface. First he took a picture from his own point of view, looking down his chest to see one of your hands painting gorgeous flowers while your other one rested on his free hand’s forearm, the way you straddled him so perfectly just further down the shot.

The next picture he took was a landscape oriented photo, his hand outstretched to the side. This shot depicted the scene from the side, both of your smiling faces in the picture, as well as the bend of your arm as you painted near his neck and the soft arch of your back as you leaned over him ever so slightly. The way his free hand’s fingers rubbed and tapped their way up your thighs until they reached your waist went unnoticed by the camera.

While you were very focused on painting, you did eventually relax enough to let your own free hand explore his torso. With one hand focused on refining the flowers, the other glided over wherever the paint wasn’t touching, following the dips and rises of his body. It wasn’t until you accidentally passed your thumb over one of his nipples that he made an effort to stop you.

When it happened, he let out a shaky breath that seemed somewhat like a silent whimper, he raised a hand to close around your wrist and lifted it away from his chest. After he muttered a “tiny, please” you nodded and relaxed your hand in his grip, face flushing out of embarrassment.

Instead of dropping your hand, he repositioned his hold on it to cradle it gently, pulling it to his face and consequently pulling you further up his lap. You gaped at him as he pressed an electric kiss to your knuckles. But he didn’t stop there; he flexed your wrist to present your palm to him, his eyes never breaking contact with yours until his kisses trailed to your wrist. His lips lingered over your pulse point and you watched as his eyes fluttered shut.

It was impossible to deny the dark tint appearing on your cheeks, but you were glad to see he looked just as affected. Pink blush adorned his soft cheeks, his eyes seeming slightly dazed when he finally dropped your hand and looked up to you.

It wasn’t long after that that the paint fully dried and he had to leave, voice hoarse as he explained that he had an early shooting the next day and should probably go rest. After helping you clean up, Yunho pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, barely missing the corner of your lips, and took off into the night.

If you collapsed onto the couch and squealed into a pillow as soon as he was gone, that was nobody’s business but yours.

And if as soon as he got home, he practically ripped off his shirt and gushed to his brothers about how small and pretty you looked when you were on top of him—foregoing showing the pictures because those were for him and only him—that was also nobody's business but his either.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter <33. as you can see, you and yunho are quite… close 🤭 i honestly had so much fun writing this, possibly too much- but anyways, i hope you enjoyed it!! also, don’t worry, i did not forget about that little yeosang moment from the previous chapter, it will most definitely be brought up~~

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ network ... @cromernet @blankjournal

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @pocketjoong @moonsangie @sarahleighflora @kiss-hwa @kyukyustar @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @seongfury @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @brxken0rex @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @moonminji @lilactangerine @lelaleleb @asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose @stayteezdreams @diorwoo @yunho0o0o0o @majestickitty @shookykookie30 @0325tiny

#★ — › NEVER SAY NEVER !#cromernet #ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #vampire au #college au #fluff #eventual smut

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a-spawn-on-my-lawn · 3 months

Text

date with astarion hc 😆

thinking about spawn astarion trying to be romantic. this man has been forced to stay in a fucked up palace for 200 years; only leaving it at night to seduce people in the shabbiest taverns and brothels.

he's not so much into details, he never had to think about taking his love to a date, because there was no one he loved and vice versa.

this man has no idea about what a "romantic date" is supposed to be, even if we consider that "romantic" is probably subjective, but you get the gist.

so suppose Wyll is not around the corner so he can ask him for help, what is he gonna do? what would he come up with?

He'd probably make a checklist.

Romance, that has something to do with flowers, doesn't it??(ew, flowers, they are only good for poisions!). But he'd bite the bullet for you, so... he knows there is a woman at the graveyard who sells flowers, how handy is that? he gets you a spray of flowers (that is supposed to be for a funeral.)

Flowers ✅

Now he really needs a nice location. That location should probably be shadowy and also provide some privacy for sure, he can't have any prying eyes near him when he's having a date with you. Thank the gods, there's an old crypt nearby, of course it is locked but what is he a skilled lockpicker for? yes it's perfect. no one is going to disturb them or make any weird remarks about him drinking a chalice of blood for dinner. There will be enough space to have a picnic. Maybe even a table. And possibly there's some loot left to find on top. Wouldn't it be extra romantic to find you a nice necklace in a coffin? it definetly would.

Romantic location ✅

Next one: Food. Astarion suddenly asks himself what you like to eat most. He figures he never paid attention to that. He's not into insignificant details, so he has no idea. He needs to get you something to eat and to drink for a dinner date, that's for sure! Drink: No problem, wine, lots thereof. Food? Needs to be handy and easy to transport. Food is food. He's going to stuff anything into his bag he gets his hands on: raw potatoes, carrots, sausages, pieces of cheese, a melon, other fruit, bread...

Food for his date ✅

And of course some food for himself, a generous bottle of some yummy blood. Ofc he counts on you letting him have a nibble.

Food for him ✅

Is there anything left? Oh, of course. A romantic dinner requires one (1) candle.

A candle ✅

The most important asset is of course

Astarion ✅

He's ready. 🥰

Ok, he's also slighly nervous about you enjoying the evening. But the better part of him is convinced you'll LOVE it.

(I would! :p)

#astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #bg3 headcanons

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writingsfromhome · 2 months

Text

Dos and Don’ts III

A/N: firstly apologies for the wait and secondly I absolutely did not want to cut this into another part but here we are 😢 I think this will change some ppls opinions oops dont hate me

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————————

I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was off in my life; I felt disconnected from myself, my friends, and most importantly from Gray. But getting Gray to communicate when he didn’t want to could feel like pulling teeth. And I was no dentist.

I figured the solution was to stubbornly throw myself into work. After all, with Harry’s European tour starting March there was always a lot to do.

“Nice of you to get here so early,” Harry says as I step off the elevators just before 9–an hour later than I usually do.

“I had dry cleaning to pick up,” I ignore his sarcasm. “Your tour fits aren’t going to magically appear in the penthouse as nice as that would be for me.”

I keep my tone light, joking, but it’s passive just as he is. And he can’t call passive out.

That’s what working for Harry has been like since December. It was winter outside these walls and inside.

I had originally decided to let it all go after sitting with the party’s events that weekend but upon arriving to work Harry had been particular asshole-ish and I decided two could play at the game. It was like the holiday party never happened. And I was okay with that.

“If they did, I wouldn’t need you would I?” Harry takes on the same tone I do.

Asshole, “yeah, how nice would that be.”

I walk away to his closet to hang up the garment bags.

“You still have two fits that need final fitting. For today, you’ve got a 2pm for your ear plugs and monitors,” I say as I walk back into the main living space. I take in Harry in his bathrobe and bedhead and realize he must be hungover. Which meant extra grumpy. “Also a meeting before noon with Jeff—he’s sick so he’ll do a Zoom. And rehearsals start tomorrow at 8am.”

The long-awaited tour he was rehearsing for was 2 months long and with his tour manager joining him I’d be kind of redundant. We agreed I’d start the tour with him, and then end it as he came back to the UK but I’d take a break in between.

“Good,” Harry sits on a barstool and as the robe parts I hoped he was wearing something underneath. “Are you joining rehearsals?”

“Tomorrow yeah,” I instinctively start tidying the coffee table littered with Harry’s activities from last night. There’s empty bottles and unused rolling papers, takeout containers and unopened bottles.

“Can you stop that,” Harry snaps. He’s wincing when I look up. “The clinking—it’s too loud.”

His second statement comes out softer but it doesn’t make him any less irritating.

“I’ll just toss these ones,” I take the ones I’d gathered in my hand.

“So,” he carries on with the earlier conversation. “Just tomorrow yeah?”

“Yep, to make sure everyone’s there, forms are signed, and all that. Jeff will drop by too. Otherwise I’ll just be there once a week or so since I have other things to complete.”

“So you’ll enjoy the full glory of the show once it’s live on stage?”

“I guess.”

“Please y/n reign in the excitement, it’s just too much.” Harry flexes his sarcasm again.

I look up from the other side of the island and lock eyes with him. With one bottle still in my hand I don’t put it in gently, instead letting it drop onto the others in the bin. His face twists in pain and I get my hit of satisfaction.

“I am excited,” I continue. “I’ll be more excited when you get on tour but right now I’m buried under an insane amount of logistics and stuff. So I’m just pacing myself.”

“Glad you got that out of your system,” he slides off the stool. “Are you sure you want to join tour? It takes a toll.”

“What? Am I taking up the space you reserved for groupies?” I goad.

He pretends to think, “No…we’ve got a whole other bus for that.”

“Great,” I smile. “Then I’ll definitely be there for the start of your tour, cheering you on.”

“Not too hard though,” Harry grabs a water from the fridge and heads towards the bedrooms. “Can’t have all of y/n’s enthusiasm overshadowing my fans.”

I roll my eyes behind his back and choose not to respond, as tempting as it was.

By the end of the week I’ve met everyone that’ll be joining the tour, taken copies of a million contracts and filed a billion papers.

It’s Saturday night and we’re heading home from the studio. Harry, in a twist of kindness, offers to drop me home.

“You don’t live too far,” he comments as we get closer to my building.

“Yeah, I was surprised with that.” It was a stroke of luck having a short commute.

“How does Mr. Duran feel about you coming on tour?”

I throw him a look but he sits there smug, waiting. “Well he’s not keen on me being away from home for so long but otherwise he’s fine.”

“Is he?” Harry extends his knee to nudge mine, irritating me. Just a few more minutes.

“Yes.” I turn to look out the window, no longer interested in the conversation. In reality Gray had been pretty upset that I’d be travelling the continent with womanizer Harry Styles. I’d soothed his fears but he was hard-headed about it.

Originally I’d saved the conversation to be had after New Year’s to not ruin the holidays but Josie had brought up tickets for the tour during Christmas dinner and although I played it off then, he’d been in a mood since.

“You’re an awful liar,” Harry says. I don’t respond. Luckily I’m home.

I figured Sunday, on my day off, Gray and I could catch up and spend quality time together. Maybe iron out some of our kinks. But he tells me he had a few sessions and I’m left alone for most of the day, convinced Gray booked them on purpose but not wanting to admit what that meant.

The following Thursday night, Gray and I finally collide after I’d spent the week stewing in my anger and anxieties.

“Why won’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m living with a stranger these days.” The conversation starts out semi-tamed as we wash up for dinner.

“You feel that way? Well I’ve seen my fiancée for less than 48 hours a week this last year. Talk about being a stranger.”

“I’ve been taking more time off,” I wonder when he decided to count the number of hours. But it was true—I’d started doing a half-days on most Saturdays and coming home earlier on week nights. Like tonight, I’d been home by half past 6. “I’ve been trying to spend more time at home.”

“Too little too late,” Gray mutters.

“What?”

“I just mean,” he sighs. “I…y/n, we barely get time together. We’re like flatmates these days aren’t we? We haven’t-“

“Don’t you dare Gray,” I wasn’t having this. I refused to hear what he was trying to get at.

“Y/n don’t be difficult-“

“Difficult!? You can’t go radio silent on me and then decide 3 years can just go down the drain.”

“I’m not saying that-“

“Then what are you saying!?”

The silence rings to the corners of our kitchen. The dishes are long forgotten, suds drip down my elbow and onto the floor, and Gray’s towel hangs like a white flag beside him.

“You knew what this job meant—you work with the same clientele, and you encouraged me to go for it. I’m trying to be better I don’t get it.” I finally say.

“I’m saying something needs to change.”

What takes me back the most is the even—even apathetic, tone. It’s the fact that he must have been thinking on this for long enough to be so level-headed about it.

Who has he talked to, I wonder. His sister? Our friends? Who’s advised him to go in this direction because the Grayson I know wouldn’t do me like this. Couldn’t.

Are you even the y/n Grayson knows, a small voice asks in my head.

“We’ve changed, I get it.” My tone takes a pleading ring to it and I hate it. “But you can’t just decide this isn’t worth fighting for Gray-“

“I’m not Y/n,” he puts the towel to the side and grabs my arms. “I’m not throwing anything away but we need to bloody figure something out because…I’m unhappy. And can you really say our relationship is the same? Can you call what we’re in a relationship?”

“Why not?” I whisper, tears choking me. “I thought we love each other and we support each other and-and we see each other through thick and thin.”

“I love you,” Gray squeezes. “And I know we’ve seen each other through thick and thin but…I don’t know if I can keep supporting you at the expense of us.”

“Well what do you want?” I look up into his brown eyes. They’re steady like they usually were.

“I want you, selfishly. I want all of you.”

He had what he wanted, didn’t he get that? He had me. I don’t know what more of me I could give him. And that thought tears me right through.

“What happened to setting a date?” Gray steps back and takes his steady grip with him. I sink into the countertop behind me. “What happened to planning for our future? Marriage and kids and buying a home and doing something more?”

His voice raises as he talks.

“I feel like I’ve been living in limbo for the last year! Just waiting around for you. I don’t know how much longer I can wait-“

“We can set a date,” I say. “We can do all that! You-you haven’t brought up any of it either! If it’s been weighing on your mind why don’t you ever just say something!?”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

I’d hit a nerve. We’d had this conversation a dozen times.

“Of course you do! Like, I’m not a mind reader you’ve been stewing in these feelings for god knows how long and now you’re telling me you’re thinking of-of-of ending things!?”

There, I’d said it.

His face contorts into a flurry of emotions. My body feels ragged just saying these things out loud.

“When I spoke to Stewart and Bex they said-“

“Stewart and…” I was right he’s been talking. “You were talking to Stew and Bex!? Since when did you spend time with Bex?”

“Since I had a lot of time alone at home.”

Fuck, he managed to get the upper hand all the time with that one valid point he had.

“They both agreed with me that this isn’t right. I’m allowed to be upset and ask you for something to change-“

“But why didn’t you talk to me!” The switch to anger is quick when he admits he was talking to our friends. I think about the last few times we saw them—had they been judging me? Had Gray told them by then?

Gray tries to brush past and tell me more about his validated feelings, about how things had changed. I can’t hear anymore.

“This decision you seem to want to make for both of us should involve me too and yet you make it the talk of the town before consulting me. I’m so goddamn tired of the way you shut down Gray I-“

“I’m tired!” He butts in. “I’m tired of watching things change and being forced to move past it.”

I stare at him. He’s not bending whatsoever. He’s not even understanding the frustration at being the last to know his feelings on our fucking relationship. Didn’t he understand how iced out that made me feel? When I’ve been trying to be as mindful as I can?

“You know what Gray,” I sneer. “You talk about us changing but did you ever think that we’ve been changing since we first met!? The only thing that’s different now is we stopped talking!”

I throw the rest of the dishes into the soapy water and storm out to the only safe haven I had right now—our bed.

Everyone wanted parts of me I couldn’t give and I felt torn to shreds! I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror, I hardly remembered what it felt like to be me.

The only time I felt centered, a bit of calm, was here. With Gray.

And now I knew the feelings weren’t mutual. He’d been thinking of ending things while I had curled in his arms. While I had kissed him goodnight and hello. While we had dinner or drinks. While we hung out with friends who were privy to all the cracks in our relationship. Who knows how long it had been a one-sided feeling.

I bury my head into my pillow wanting to scream and cry at the same time. My head hurts but mostly my heart hurts. I feel betrayed by my bestest friend and the person I love the most.

You’re no better, the ugly voice in my head shows up again. You’ve done things you should be ashamed of.

I block the voice out. I block it all out until all I feel is numb.

Gray doesn’t come to bed at all that night. I drag myself out of the nest I’d created some time around midnight, thinking he fell asleep on the sofa. To tell him to come to bed since I knew our sofa wasn’t long enough for him to even fit on.

I sway in the middle of the empty living room. There’s nobody here. Definitely not Gray. He’d left altogether, to wherever he’s been finding refuge recently.

It hits me; I think I’ve done this to myself. I was alone. Really alone.

***

The scowl is permanently etched onto my face as I go about my Friday morning. I feel Harry’s eyes on me a few times but even he doesn’t broach the subject. We silently maneuver around each other until he leaves for rehearsal.

I think about calling my friends to talk about this but I realize all my friends who were up to date on my life had become interwoven with Gray’s. And I already know Gray complained about my job to them based on a few parties last year. So they definitely wouldn’t be unbiased listening to anything I said.

I regret then, not staying in touch more with my friends back home. For the first time in years I feel a bit homesick.

I decide busying myself with work would be the only thing to keep me sane so I throw on headphones and get down to business.

As the day starts to come to an end I put on Harry’s stereo with the mournful songs that had been comforting me today and grab a seltzer from the fridge. He wouldn’t be home until 8 tonight and he’s always been open about using whatever was in the general living spaces.

So I nearly have a heart attack when I see a shadow from the corner of my eyes around 6.

I give a shout when it comes with a voice and once my senses return I realize it’s just a sweaty Harry back early from rehearsal.

“What? Are you doing here!?” I press on my pounding heart. “Alexa music off.”

He’s grinning at the way I reacted and now he laughs, it’s a bending-over laugh and I chuckle myself as I replay how dramatic it all was.

“Wow.” He says when he finally catches his breath. “I wish I had that on video.”

“Jesus,” I swear. “I thought you’d be home a lot later.”

“So this is what happens when I’m not home,” he teases.

“Only on Fridays,” I collapse into the closest chair and tilt my head back. “God, I thought there was like, an intruder or something. Or a ghost.”

He laughs again, moving to the kitchen for a water. “Good thing ghosts don’t exist.”

“They so do.” I reply.

“There’s no proof that’s ever convinced me they exist.”

“You live a sad skeptical life Mr. Styles.” My breathing is finally regulated and I sit up to look at him. “I’ve seen one myself when I was a teen. I wish I could be a disbeliever like you.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story,” he leans on the island looking very amused.

“I will,” I accept his challenge.

“I cut rehearsals short,” he continues. “I’m knackered from this week. I just want to be one with my couch and get drunk and not worry about what moves to do and what song to sing.”

“Yeah,” he looked tired and his hair was getting a bit shaggy. He runs his hand through the damp curls. “I need a shower and I think I should do a trim.”

“Consider it booked,” I pull the phone towards me and text his usual stylist. I hear him move around the space and pause before he disappears down the hall.

“Are you heading home soon?” He asks.

“Hm?” I kill time responding, acting like I didn’t hear his response. I didn’t want to go home at all. I didn’t even know if Gray was home or not and I didn’t want to find out. Harry repeats his question. “No. I wanted to wrap up some things. I can move to the office if you wanted the space to chill out?”

He shrugs and tells me I could go where I want.

I wanted to be out of the way, and not home. So I move to the office. The same office where weeks ago I’d teetered on the edge of a fatal decision and now was faced with the possibility of that decision made for me.

I slump in the seat and take a moment to just decompress. A headache creeps around my eyes and I just feel lost and hurt and alone.

When I break the laptop open again I move like a slug, scraping the barrel of effort and coming up with nil.

“Uh y/n?” Harry’s head pops into the door a while later.

“Yeah?” I blink up at him, still in slug mode.

He stares at me a second, “Do you have plans tonight? You could…join me in doing nothing?”

When was the last time I did nothing? I couldn’t remember. And it sounded like a distraction—not a good one, but one that helped me avoid home for longer.

“Sure?” I respond.

Harry blinks. “Oh. Brilliant. Finish what you’re doing if you’d like or you can join me now. Oh. Could you also order us some pizza or something that’s greasy and bad for us?”

I liked the direction of this. I feel my sluggish feeling slide away. “I can do that.”

“Good. Great. This is going to be a good night.”

He moves away as he talks and his last sentence is shouted from down the hall. I smile, relieved to do something like this.

I consider texting Gray, but decide against it. He left last night without a word, making me worried and today there’s been radio silence. I wasn’t in the mood to take the high road.

I do as Harry asks. Meanwhile Harry had put on some peppier music and brought out a six-pack from the fridge. His head is buried in the pantry rummaging through.

“What do you need?” I come up behind him.

“Oh,” he pops out. “Looking for some sweets. I’m sure I have some somewhere.”

“Oh yeah!” I close the doors he’s looking in and open the top cabinet. His eyes light up when he spots the options. “Food’s on its way by the way.”

He rubs his hands and starts pulling things off the pantry. It’s a different energy than any before, he’s not picking on me or ordering me around. He’s just inviting me to be on the ins with him. My instinct is to stay quiet and see where it goes but I shake it off.

“Are we just playing with beer tonight or is wine on the menu?” I ask. I hated the taste of beer.

“It could?” He unloads the pile in his arms onto the island and starts rummaging through the wines. “How about this one?”

A white. I take it from him and head for some glasses.

We end up making a buffet for ourselves on the coffee table and when the pizza comes we settle in, chatting occasionally about the things around us.

“So what does doing nothing involve?” I ask when we’re situated on the couch. Harry’s left a few feet of space between us which is very appreciated. I pull my feet up. “Because I have to say it’s been a while and I don’t know how to do nothing.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. I find myself grinning in response.

“Touché mon amie.”

“Okay I actually got that,” I nod.

“Do you speak french?” He asks as he opens the wine and pours us both a glass, mine’s a lot more full than his.

“No but I spent a month in Paris when I was in uni,” I savour the sour flavours of the wine as it coats my mouth and settles me down. “So I learned the bare minimum. Now all I can say is bonjour, ca beigne? And also un verre du vin s’il vous plait?”

“So you cut right to the chase—hey are you alright? A glass of wine thanks. Now leave me alone.”

We laugh and I hold up my glass, “I was hoping you’d get the hint. Why is mine so full anyway?”

“I’m just drinking some so you don’t have to drink it alone. Then I’m gonna crack on with the beer.”

“Oh!” There he had to go and be thoughtful again. “Forget it, I will happily drink the bottle. Drink whatever you want.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward to put his glass down.

I lean over and pour his measly amount into mine. “There, you’ve done the sharing part.”

“So y/n,” he asks after we’ve grabbed our respective snacks of choice. “Can I ask why you were listening to all those ballads before I came in?”

“I need to get a bit more drunk before I do that,” I down some more wine, already feeling the buzz of it. Obviously this was not the cheap wine I generally had.

“Alright we’ll get you there,” he promises. His eyes flicker from his phone to me and back to his phone. “Uhh could I show you something?”

“Like what?”

“We’re releasing the MV for one of my songs a week before I go on tour right.”

“Right,” I name the single that’s been thrown around countless times this week.

“I got back the deck for what it’ll look like. I’m excited can I show it to you?”

It’s endearing, in a way, how eager he is to show it. His cheeks even have spots of pink.

“Uh yeah! Let’s see it!”

“Cool,” he grins. He turns on the TV and casts whatever video is on his phone to the screen. He gives me some background on how it was setting up a whole storyline and how they’ve already started filming some of the scenes.

“The shooting starts the week after this one right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in Scotland for a few days. You’re joining me right?”

“Yes! I’m excited to see all the action myself.” I had signed up for the 4-day trip with zero hesitation. As someone who’s always been making up stories and concepts to most music I listened to, getting to see the bts for an MV was a dream come true.

“Really?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s real excitement I promise.”

“You’re interested in it?”

“Yeah! I love music videos, it creates a whole new experience for a song we’ve probably listened to on repeat. It’s cool!”

“So this is y/n really enthusiastic,” he leans back in the cushions to get me in full. “Now I really know you couldn’t give a rat’s arse about tour.”

“Stop saying that!” I laugh. “I was just stressed. I am excited about all of it okay?”

“So you say,” with a final glance he presses play and I’m entranced as the narration takes us through the plan.

“Umm all I can say is wow.” I turn to him when it’s done. My wine glass had been emptied and my brain had been itched with the most beautiful location and storytelling I’ve seen in a while. “That’s like a mini movie.”

“That’s what I said!” He exclaims. “It’s going to blow everything out of the water.”

“Look at us, doing nothing.” I realize we’d turned around and talked about work.

“Bollocks we’re no good at this.” Harry slides a hand down his face and I laugh at the dramatics. “Let me refill you at least.”

I happily oblige.

We talk about the mv some more, and move onto the tour. Harry asks me about the concerts I’ve been to and we get the kind of excited when you’re tipsy once we find out we were both at a Coldplay concert four years ago in London.

“That would’ve been before the success so I would have been just another bloke to you,” he notes.

“Yeah, imagine we crossed paths then? That would be crazy.”

“If we did, we might still be doing this tonight, just as mates,” he points to between us. “Or you would have fallen in love with me and I would have sacrificed my music to raise our kids.”

“What!?” It’s so absurdly ridiculous that I nearly snort my wine. “Where did that comes from!?”

“Admit it,” he puffs out his chest. “That would have happened. And I’d be so committed-“

“Well you’re assuming that in a 4 year time-span we would get to the point of having kids. So firstly no, secondly who said you had to sacrifice your career?”

“I-“ he stops mid-sentence, looking into the distance.

“Exactly!” I shout. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve just made up a story that makes you sounds good and noble!”

“Fine,” he settles down. “Fine! We never meet and you end up with your Duran bloke and I end up a musician.”

“Is that all I’m reduced to?” I raise my brow. “Who I’m with?”

“No!” He leans between us to pat my leg. It tingles. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll do great things. I just mean the person you end up with isn’t superstar Harry Styles.”

I roll my eyes, “I need more wine if I’m gonna be subjected to any more of this bullshit.”

“Bullshit?!”

“Mhm,” I pop a gummy into my mouth and ignore the look of shock on his face.

“Fine. Then tell me about your bullshit,” he raises his can. “What’s happening to make you so ferocious this morning.”

Oh god. I hold up a finger and shimmy forward for some more wine. I’d drank 2/3 of the bottle and I was definitely tipsy. Maybe I’ll just sip this one.

“Fine. If you want to hear it.”

“I do.”

“I got into a fight with Gray.”

He raises a brow, I continue.

“He’s upset with me and complaining that I work a lot and that he feels like I’m his flatmate!”

“Flatmate with benefits.”

“Shut up!” I groan. “Not the point.”

“Sorry!” He holds his hands up.

“I don’t think he realizes how much of my head is just Gray like, I’m always thinking about him, about what I could do for him and say to him just to make sure he feels seen and reassured and loved! You know I’ve asked you for half-days on Saturdays when you don’t have a lot going on-“

“Mhm,” he nods along.

“I’m like, making sure I’m being a good partner. And apparently he’s been upset and not saying anything.”

“The old silent on the home front.”

“Yes!” I nearly drip wine as I pump my hand. “Yes, on the home front he’s bloody broody and quiet. I knew something was on his mind but like always he’s tight lipped. Even when I asked him a week ago he said he’s just been working a lot. What a liar!”

I complain about how it felt to be iced out of my partner’s emotions and having to guess all the time.

“Then I find out he’s been talking to all our friends to get advice.” Harry raises his brows in judgement and leans back into the sofa, and the small gesture makes me feel so validated. I didn’t realize how much I needed a third-party to just listen to my side of things. Until now, I’d literally not had anyone to talk to about this especially since I avoided talking about work with Gray. I get misty eyed.

“And when we’re talking he’s like so-and-so said this as if I want to know. And!” Now I was on a roll. I put my glass down in fear of spilling it on the pristine sofa and get on my knees to emphasize my frustration. “And the girl he quoted? Get this, I met her—Rebecca—at a job I did like a year ago? And we got along fabulously and I invited her to this party we threw right because she was new to the city and all that. She met my other friends and she fit in so well they invited her the next event. I got her into the group and now she’s talking shit about me with my fiancé behind my back!”

“She’s probably got a thing for your man,” Harry suggests.

“Oh she definitely does!” I’m animated as I continue. “She so does! I’ve caught her making eyes at him before, and laughing a lot whenever he makes a joke. I even mentioned it to him once but he said he didn’t notice.”

“He probably didn’t,” Harry shrugs.

“I know, the male species is a wonder. You get big flirts like you and then otherwise they’re completely oblivious.”

“I’ll have you know when I was a teen, a girl literally gave me a valentine cupcake and I just thought—well I knew she liked to bake, so I thought she just had extras. I didn’t understand why she didn’t speak to me the rest of the year.”

“No way,” I laugh—a lot because the wine was definitely sloshing around in my head, but also I couldn’t imagine Harry being that aloof. “I guess it comes with the ego territory. Were you less of a jerk as a kid?”

His jaw drops. “You just called me a jerk right now. To my face.”

“I did,” I say with glee. I stand to get the full picture of an offended Harry. “And I don’t regret it. So? Were you nicer as a kid?”

“No I’m not answering until you take that back.”

“What! You are a jerk…sometimes! I’m not taking it back!”

“You have to take it back otherwise I will cut you off on the wine.”

I take a step back and stumble as he speaks. Which makes me laugh more. “I think I should cut back. I am a hot mess.”

“At least you’re laughing,” Harry stands too. “It’s world’s different from this morning.”

Just like telling someone not to think of an elephant, I think of the elephant.

“Noo no don’t do that!” Harry rushes towards me and bends down to look me in the eye. “I liked it when you were smiling just now c’mon.”

“Well you reminded me why I was so upset-“

“Can’t stay grumpy, just give me another smile. One smile! Small teeny tiny smile—there it is!”

I can’t help it with his face in mine and the way he’s putting on a voice to get me to smile my face splits in a grin.

“You’re soooo annoying!” I push him but unstable and drunk I fall backwards.

I don’t know what happens next but I’m on the floor looking up into Harry’s concerned face.

“Y/n? Y/n!?”

“Yeah,” my head pounds as I try to make sense of where I am.

“Fuck,” I hear Harry say. He moves away and the overhead light attacks my eyes so I squeeze them shut.

I hear him, panicked, on the phone.

“No!” I try to call out. “M’fine! Don’t even worry-“

“Stay down Y/N,” he’s back by my side. I try to prove to him that I’m okay and sit up but a few inches off the ground and my head feels like it’s full of bees.

“So many bees,” I murmur as I go back down, now a pillow behind my head.

A few minutes later Harry’s helping me up gently. I tell him I wanted to throw up and he helps me to the toilet where I do. Gah. Why did I drink so much.

“I think I’ll head home now,” I hear myself saying to Harry like I was miles away.

“No,” his hands are around my shoulder and holding me upright as we walk out. The lift increases my nausea but I keep my eyes shut.

“I’m going home now,” I tell Harry when we get outside.

“No you’re getting checked out.”

“No!” I shove him away and nearly topple over myself. Why did he have to boss me around all the time? “Stop telling me what to do! My head hurts I’m going home!”

He tries to grab my hand but I yank it off. “Stop! Just stop!”

“Y/n,” Harry’s voice is low and comforting as he gets down in my ear. He smells nice too. “You passed out and you have a headache we have to get you checked out.”

“You’re no fun,” I cross my arms but follow him, only because my headache is so bad. As we get in the car I close my eyes shut as the lights assault them. Harry doesn’t let me sleep on the ride home even though his body is warm and steady beside me. I barely know where I am.

Harry’s POV:

I keep telling myself she would most likely be fine, just like the doctor reassured me but it’s hard not to beat myself up.

I shouldn’t have let her get that drunk, especially upset. I shouldn’t have gotten in her space and caused her to tumble back. I should have done something else.

The guilt is added to when I think of how I spoke to the doctor, demanding they do every scan and not to skip any. I hated who I became sometimes, when I pulled the famous card, but I thought it was necessary right now. Even y/n would give me a pass for using it.

I can’t stop replaying the thud as her head hit the hardwood floor, her eyelids fluttering as I rushed to her, her slack face when she lost consciousness for a moment.

It’s been hours since we came in. The doctor finally heads my way.

“Mr. Styles, your girlfriend is alright,” he holds up his hands before I’m fully standing.

I may have had to say she was my girlfriend after they wouldn’t let me have any say tonight…

“She’ll be alright, you did the right thing getting her here right away.”

“But?”

“No but,” he smiles. “Obviously it’s serious she has a moderate concussion but if she doesn’t exasperate any symptoms—takes it easy the next couple weeks, she’ll be right as rain. We can discharge her once the neurologist confirms. She’s just finishing with another patient right now-“

“She should stay overnight,” I cut him off. His cheeriness was starting to irritate me I felt like he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Oh well,” he laughs but I know I’m irritating him right back. “She will be alright. I can provide you and her with a followup plan-“

“Doctor,” I say. “She’s staying overnight. If I need to rent a bed I’ll do that, tell me what I need to do, but she should stay under observation. Get the care she deserves.”

He pursues his lips, and I wait for him to agree.

“Yep,” he sighs. “I’ll tell the nurse. Just follow me and we can sort the details.”

We do that, I even take a selfie for the nurse’s daughter which grates on the doctor’s nerves even more. He leaves shortly after.

I get y/n’s room and walk there slowly, wondering how to apologize. Ever since December we’ve been playing a game of tennis with words and tonight I felt both of us relax onto the same note. Then this.

She’s sleeping when I get to her. My watch says 1am. She looks peaceful and it hurts even more.

The truth was despite acting like I didn’t, I did like Y/N but she was complicated, and the more I tried to untangle her web the more sticky things became for both of us. I didn’t want to make more mistakes than I have in the past so I’d kept my distance. Even if it hurt both of us.

Tonight was good though. Until it wasn’t. This was why I shouldn’t blur lines. You would think I’d have learned that by now.

I step by her bed, hesitating. Someone has wiped the remains of her makeup off and she looks so much younger. Like a sleeping cherub. My heart gives a squeeze.

I push back a strand of her hair, my hand wanting to do something. I settle for taking her hand in mine, it’s not the first time I’ve held it but like it always does, a flood of warmth rushes through me.

I never understood Victorian romances until her; just touching her hand got my blood pumping.

With a stroke of my thumb over her knuckles, she stirs. I freeze.

Her eyes flicker open, “Hey?”

My voice disappears. There’s too much that I want to say and nothing I’m allowed to say. Maybe a sorry. I open my mouth but she squeezes my hand. I forgot I was still holding hers.

“So much for doing nothing huh?” She cracks a smile and it breaks the marble I’d become encased in. I laugh and collapse onto the sliver of the bed.

“We should never do nothing again.”

“Nope,” she smiles, closing her eyes again.

“Y/N I’m really sorry for tonight. I feel awful-“

Her mouth parts. She was asleep.

I want to sit here with her until she wakes again, until the doctors kick us out. Something about seeing her so vulnerable here makes me want to confess the thing that’s been lodged in my chest for a long time.

I release her hand and move away from the bed. This was dangerous. Maybe I could wait in the waiting room until she’s released. Then take her home.

Something vibrates. It’s not my phone, and then I notice the purse I’d brought with us. Y/N’s.

I peek inside for the phone and her fiancé’s face takes up the screen. He looks younger. And then I remember, it’s like stepping out of the fog this night had put me in and into reality.

I pick up.

“Y/N it’s nearly 2 in the morning just tell me you’re alright? You haven’t been answering your texts I-“

“Hi,” I clear my throat and the line goes dead silent. I decide to continue. “Hey uh this is Harry. Styles. Uhm, don’t panic or anything because she is okay but she’s in hospital and-“

“What?” He comes back with a boom. “Why is she there what happened? Which hospital?”

I tell him which one, explain she bumped her head and I had to take her here. That the doctors said she would recover and be herself again soon. He simply swears and tells me he’d be there soon.

This was Y/N’s life. This was the right thing to do. Still, I stay in the room with my head in my hands and think about the whole evening again and again.

“Just tell me the bloody room…I don’t care about the time…”

The voice travels through as doors open and close in the hall and I look out. Grayson. Like a pitbull. I can see him through the rectangular window demanding to see Y/N.

I open the swinging doors and his nostrils flare as he spots me.

“Why the hell is he allowed in and not me?” He continues his tirade. “Does hospital policy not matter when it comes to the rich and famous now? I want to see her doctor and-“

The nurse turns to me, annoyed but before she can ask the question the doctor is out.

“What’s all this? Do you know the time sir, please follow me and we can talk-“

“I don’t want to fucking follow you. I want him gone and I want to see my fiancee.”

Looks are exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, finally landing on me. I imagine what they’re thinking—just another homewrecking famous rockstar, do we tell the fiancé or act cool?

“He should be able to see her,” I say in an even tone. I can feel the eyes on me, especially the laser beams from Gray.

“I thought-“

“Okay. Visitor pass him and let him in,” the doctor cuts his nurse off as she stares at me. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t get that photo tonight after all, and instead be told to pick better role models. It doesn’t matter to me. Not tonight.

I watch Gray get sorted, watch him walk down and to Y/N’s room. To his fiancée’s room.

I wonder how he feels, fighting with her last night just for y/n to end up here tonight. I wonder if that’s why he was so vocal tonight—the guilt.

But I suspected he was the kind of man that called himself easy-going and only got this raucous when another man was threatening his public image. It was pretty clear the hospital staff thought we had some pseudo-relationship arrangement. I don’t think Duran was daft enough to miss that.

Plus, I’d been the one to bring her here not him.

With a big sigh I take my phone out to call a taxi. It was my turn to go home.

I text Y/N from the car, tell her to rest over the weekend and let me know how she feels Monday morning. She could take the whole week off if she wanted but I also knew her and knew she would try to come back asap.

I try to piece back the marble armour I wore before tonight, it’s ill-fitting and hurts to get on but I do it anyway. This was why I couldn’t be the person Y/N wanted me to be; I tried to mix parts of my life together and it would only end with shite.

Y/N’s POV:

I don’t know who this man in front of me was. Or actually, I hadn’t seen him a long time.

I’d been discharged from the hospital on Saturday morning with odd looks all around. Maybe because Harry brought me in? And ever since, Grayson has been doting on me. Doting.

“Did you want anything specific?” Gray stands at the foot of the bed, asking me what he should make me for breakfast. The last time he made me a special breakfast was…last summer?

“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes?” I reply. “I looove your chocolate chip pancakes.”

“I’ll get it started,” he walks over to kiss my temple and leaves.

The weirdest part is that I feel weird; I don’t know why but Gray doting on me like this made me feel claustrophobic and…weird!

I look out the window to the overcast sky. Same, I think. At least for a Sunday, it felt fitting.

I pick up my phone and check the last response from Harry. Since I got discharged he’d been texting me to see how I was feeling. I think he was feeling guilty even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.

I tried not to drink when I was upset because back in uni it led to some shitty situations but the other night I’d overstepped my rule and done this anyway. And paid for it. I should have known better. And after the absolute misery of yesterday’s aftermath—the migraine and the vertigo and the completely lack of appetite, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Ever.

Today I feel a lot better. I still have a headache and I’m looking forward to breakfast with my painkiller, but the light doesn’t hurt as much and the nausea only comes back when I do too much.

You: I’ll be back in no time. Feeling better

Harry: I want you to feel the best so I’m banning you from working until Wed. And that’s conditional on you feeling better

Y: Doc said I can resume a lowkey version of my life after 48hrs

H: I didn’t like that doc. take my advice instead

Y: when did you get your md

H: same time you got yours

Y: I have an md?

H: being stubborn 101

Y: your jokes are a lot better when you text

H: cuz you’re not distracted by my face

Y: ooookay I’m no longer giving you the platform byeee

He was sassy, apparently. I never got this side of him before.

I read through the convo again and smile. But it hits me that it sounded like flirting. And that would be incredibly inappropriate. So I shove my phone in my bedside drawer and inch out of bed to join Gray.

We spend the day talking about a lot, but not about what we should talk about. Which, with the way I was feeling, was fine by me. At the same time it felt like we were both politely playing a role neither of us could put our hearts into. It felt shitty.

Gray has a session around 4 and I crawl back into bed, putting on a romcom I’ve watched a million times for comfort.

My body feels heavy and it has nothing to do with the concussion. The last couple days and my current relationship with Gray casts a shadow over my thoughts. I felt like making any decision was like wading through quicksand and running away just sounded better.

I rub my temples, hoping like a genie’s lamp, I could get an omnipotent spirit cast out and grant me easy wishes. I’d wish for things to go back to normal, for my heart not to be such a wretched thing. For clarity.

I pick up my phone and scroll to the one person I had run away from and have missed since. I didn’t talk to her very often but I thought I could use her no-nonsense approach.

My mom frets when I tell her what had happened. She goes quiet as I tell her I’d gotten drunk to forget about the troubles in my relationship.

“Relationships go through a lot of phases. It’s like going through those cave tunnels all made of rock and you gotta squeeze really tight sometimes just to fit through and continue on.”

“That is an amazing comparison mom, but I don’t know if this is one of those times. It feels like Gray’s already given up on us.”

“Well it’s been a long time he’s waited.”

“But he never said. He never talked to me.”

She sighs. “Your Grayson sure is a contemplative son of a bitch isn’t he?”

I laugh a little too hard and feel a pulse in my head. “I know. But then today he was so dang sweet—since I got home. He was so overprotective. And he made me breakfast mom and it made me realize I haven’t had that Gray in a long time.”

She’s silent on the other end. She knew there was more. How did I ever think, as a teen, my mom didn’t understand me? I think I just never understood her.

“But it felt weird.” I continue. “I feel horrible for saying it but I felt weird!”

“Was there heart?” She asks gently.

There wasn’t.

That’s what it was. And my heart weeps. All those actions without feelings.

“Have you thought about coming home?” Mom asks when the silence stretches. She always asked and I was the worst daughter in the world for never going back. The last time was when I graduated, for 2 weeks in which my family drove me crazy and I had been crazy in love with Gray and eager to get back to him.

“Maybe,” I close my eyes and slide down into bed.

“Your brother’s new girlfriend reminds me of that friend you had where she came on our camping trip and cried the whole time? What was her name?”

“Deanna? Mom I stayed friends with her all through high school! She was just very anxious.”

“I know! His girlfriend’s always darting about, jumping at tiny things. Reminds me of her.”

“Well Jace better be treating her right.”

“He does,” mom’s voice raises. “You should see them together. It’s cute but they’re still teenaged loves so I try not to break his bubble too much.”

Mom had definitely relaxed a lot since I was a teen. She had practically chased my first boyfriend away.

“Remember your first boyfriend?” She asks and I shout how I was remembering that too. We end up talking about old memories, and I feel a little more known and a little less lonely when I hang up.

Gray and I order takeout and I try to watch a movie with him but the strain on my eyes gets too much. I tell him I was going to bed and insist that he stays and finishes. I didn’t feel like watching him play boyfriend.

I’m eager to get back to work, for next week when I can go to Scotland for the MV. The eagerness comes from guilt but I carry both as I fall asleep.

***

I feel like a kid at Disneyland. Or maybe a Disney adult. Either way, I’m blown away getting to watch this MV come to life.

It’s long hours, a lot of waiting, and some shouting. But everything else is magic.

I came back to work last Thursday and other than an ear-splitting headache on the flight and a low-grade one when I stared at a screen too long, I was on my way to normal. When I got back to work Harry kept making excuses for me so I could work from the office but I refused to be treated differently and eventually he relented.

“It’s so freaking cold!” I jump up and down beside Harry by the cliffside. He’s just wrapped up a scene and the crew was taking a look at the footage to see if they needed anything more in this spot.

“Why don’t you put on more layers? Do you want an extra coat the crew might have-“

“No!” I continue wriggling around. “I’m heading back to the car in a few. This is an amazing view.”

“Isn’t it,” Harry turns to the sea that’s churning away much like my own heart these days. It feels calming to see it physically somewhere else.

We stand in silence except for my occasional teeth chattering and stare out to the view.

“Have you seen more of it?” Harry motions to the cameras. “What do you think?”

On this trip I’ve been giving my honest opinion, and I know I’ve offended Harry at least once but I didn’t come all the way here for my dream experience only to stroke his ego.

I tell him my take. We talk about the overall storyline about belonging and sacrifice until we’re interrupted with two hands holding out hot teas.

“You both looked cold,” the woman says. She was another assistant on set and I’m not sure what to do being waited on as a PA myself.

“Oh, thank you!” I make sure she knows I appreciate it. “That’s…that’s super kind thanks!”

She throws us both a smile and I stare at my cup, the heat tingling on my cold fingertips.

“Friendship and belonging yeah,” Harry starts up again.

“Yeah but also I like how you—your character, whatever, knows when it’s time to leave for his better growth. Sacrifice with his friend and sacrifice with the only home he’s known. Plus that’s a comfortable outfit.”

I tap a button on Harry’s jumpsuit. He grins. “You can have it.”

“I would be drowning in that you’re a lot taller.”

“We can have it altered,” he says. A shiver runs through me at we. I blame it on the cold.

I sip the tea now that it’s not scalding and find it’s a lot cooler. The open air, I guess.

“So you really love all this,” Harry says. “You weren’t joking about that excitement.”

“No I told you!” I flash to the night we did “nothing” which feels long ago. “I have a vivid imagination when it comes to music and I spent any spare courses on film so now I can interpret the heck out of any song and music video like my life depends on it.”

“We should get you back there,” he motions to the crew. “Get you on board.”

“Would I get the little clipboard and clapper?”

“Yeah!”

“Goals,” I sigh.

Little did I know, by Saturday as we’re filming our final scene one of the crew members hands me the clapper. He tells me I’m supposed to cut the final scene. I stare at him, thinking I misheard.

The clapboard hangs between us. He shakes it a little and I take it. It’s heavier than I thought.

“Harry asked if you can cut for the final scene, see the man behind the camera? He’ll look to you and give you the nod. Then you step in front and just do the thing.”

“Oh…” I’m still staring at the thing in my hand. My palms feel sweaty like it’s going to crash to the ground and break in two but that thought gets me to hold it closer. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” the guy walks away and I stare at the scene being filmed. Slowly I walk closer to the cameraman and he glances at me, notices the clapper, and smiles holding up two fingers.

He whispers something to someone beside him and they change the lighting. Harry walks off “screen” and I try to catch his eye to show him what I had. We catch it briefly and he winks before walking back onto the screen.

Oh my god! My heart is racing as I hold it in my hands. I had to chill. Or I’m gonna make a mess of things. It’s just a clapperboard and you’re saying one word!

Two minutes. I manage to calm down enough and when I get the signal I step in front of the camera and, as I see it later on, with the biggest grin on my face I clap down and yell “cut!”

Harry lets out a whoop and the crew cheers as the filming wraps up. I’m sure my eyes are wide as saucers as I go to Harry. He puts an arm around me and pulls me in, laughing because I tell him my heart is racing and how does he do tours when just that made me shaky.

“It gets easier,” we walk now with his arm around my shoulder. “One day you’ll be behind the camera shouting at me to move places.”

“Oooh getting to boss you around and get paid for it?” I look up at him and my breath catches because he’s handsome at every bloody angle. “Sign me up.”

He let me go and gives me a few tsks. Then he gets his phone and tells me to pose with the clapper and I do it happily. The picture shows a grinning girl with pure delight on her face.

“I’ll put that as your contact photo right,” Harry says as he gets into a jacket. “And that way at least when you call me with bad news I get to see a smile beforehand.”

“Har har,” I roll my eyes but I don’t hate the idea.

A lot of the crew decide to go out for drinks and dinner and Harry passes but I decide to go. I’d met some friendly faces and I would miss working with them, miss the overall energy, when we got back to London.

As I fall asleep that night, full and content, I realize I hadn’t texted Gray all day. I wake to check my phone and see he’d sent a text a few hours ago.

Sorry I was out for lunch with the crew. Babe it was sooooo fun I can’t wait to show you pictures when I get home.

I read the rest of his message asking how I was. I tell him my headache was gone and ask him about his week but I’ve fallen asleep before he can respond.

***

The morning I have to leave for tour I wake up way too early. Too much nervous excitement. I’d already brushed and checked my luggage was packed before crawling back into bed waiting for Gray to wake.

I watch him sleep, my eyes following the familiar contours of his face. We’d been making an effort at rebuilding the relationship since we agreed we at least had to give it a try after I got home from Scotland a month ago. On one hand it feels like starting a new relationship and also breathing easier because we were both on the same page. On the other, we’d finally started planning the wedding!

I would miss him, nearly 3 weeks away which is the longest we’ve been apart since we got together. Then I’d be home for 2 weeks, and away for the last week before Harry finishes with a couple shows in London. It was going to be epic and crazy as exhausted as I’ve been.

I huddle close to Gray and he stirs slightly but I kiss his neck to wake him.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his sleep.

“Morning,” I press another kiss to his face.

“What time?” He moves his head to kiss me back.

“Hmmm half past 7?”

He grumbles about it being so early but it stops shortly after with both of my legs on either side of him and my hair curtaining our faces.

“M’gonna miss your snooty face,” I say with another kiss. He finally opens his eyes and his hand comes up to hold my chin.

“I’ll be the one here missing you.”

“I’ll call every chance I get.”

“You’ll get to see so many new cities,” he says.

“Barely but I’m gonna try to make the most of it,” the travel schedule was hectic but I know there were a couple slower days I could use to explore cities. If I wasn’t completely exhausted.

“You’ll have a lot of fun,” he pushes my hair behind my ear.

“Remember Josie’s coming this weekend to stay the week.” Gray’s sister had taken the opportunity of a semi-empty flat to stay here while she studied for mid-terms. I had encouraged it so Gray felt less lonely.

“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he huffs.

“Just behave,” I warn him.

“I don’t know how,” he smiles, rolling us around so he’s on top and showing me what misbehaving means. I don’t mind it a bit.

After a quick shower together we head out to the airport, Harry offered to pick me up on his way but I wanted to make sure I spent as much time with Gray as possible so he doesn’t feel like I was leaving him like before. I hoped he knew, at least, the effort I was making.

***

Stockholm, Hamburg, Oslo, and Copenhagen in one week. It was exhilarating and exhausting and hectic and so fulfilling.

I had seen Harry at small shows before but on the big stage he has a presence with a capital P. It’s amazing watching him perform and dance and be charming all over. He could be cheeky yet command the crowd at the same time. And despite all these sides he’s never inauthentic.

For the first time I’m able to take somewhat of a backseat. He already had his manager, tour manager, stylist, and tour chef with him to manage most aspects I would regularly. I became sort of an extra hand when I wasn’t having sit-down hours. That’s what I called the times I was sitting on the laptop sorting out future timelines for Harry’s life (and my wedding).

But I loved it. I’d pick a cafe close to our hotel and spend a few hours working. I’d call Gray during these times and if he was free we’d catch up on all I saw and he’d share stories with me until Josie crashed the conversation with stories of her own.

My eye bags require more concealer than usual and my body begs for nutrition but otherwise I love every second.

I’m back from my sit-down hours and get off the lift. Harry and his team were placed in the same hotel just down the hall from each other. As I approach my own door one of Harry’s band mates rushes out of his door looking stressed.

“He’s in a mood,” she huffs. “Don’t go in there.”

“Did something happen?” I ask.

She shrugs, “he gets this way. Usually at the start of tour I don’t know why. Kinda snappy just…give him space.”

I do as she says but the next morning as we wait to board our early flight to Paris he continues to be a dick to everyone.

“Maybe take a nap on the flight Haz,” one of his bandmates suggest. “We’re all bloody tired don’t be such a grump.”

“I don’t need a bloody nap stop treating me like a child.”

“What to do when you act like one.”

“You know what-“

“Woah hey c’mon.”

I startle at the commotion, I was starting to doze off but Harry rushing out of his seat and someone else stepping between him and Mitch wakes me entirely.

“Let’s stand there get some space.” Niji recommends.

Everyone follows the group away and it’s Harry, myself, and my bag left.

He glances at me, “Don’t you start too.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I could see it in your face.”

“What the hell? I was just napping I don’t even know what’s going on except that you really are being a dick.”

“There you go!” He points. “I knew you wanted to say it.”

“Guess I’m joining the others…” I pick up my bag and walk to everyone else. They’re all venting their frustrations for Harry and comfort me that he was an asshole to everyone.

It gets worse on the flight when our pilot announces we couldn’t land in Paris.

“What’s going on?” I ask our hostess.

“The weather, we apologize for the inconvenience folks but there is high winds and a lot of fog so it’s not safe to fly.”

“I have a show tonight,” Harry stands and starts to advance on the poor woman. “I need to be in Paris before 4 where are we landing?!”

“Sir we’ll be landing in the Lille airport. This is good because we’re only a few hours from the city-“

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair.

“I understand,” the woman looks back at me and I nod, letting her know I got it.

“Harry we’ll only be delayed by a few hours-“

“I don’t have time for a few hours. We need to set up and run tests in Paris! We were supposed to be there yesterday but somebody booked the wrong shit!”

It was true, his tour manager had booked us for Monday morning rather than Sunday morning but at the time it hadn’t been a big deal since the show was 7 on Monday and we got an extra day to relax. Now it made things more stressful.

“Fuck this,” Harry mutters. The other members on the plane roll their eyes and put on headphones, sighing and looking out the window. It was obvious to everyone but Harry that this was just a minor setback.

I decide to be the idiot who enters the lion’s cage. Harry sits in the back of the plane jiggling his leg and trying to connect his phone to service.

“Are you trying to call Morgan?” I ask.

“No I’m trying to call the pope.”

“He might be sleeping.”

He looks up at me and if I wasn’t aware of how stressed he was I would laugh. Confused doesn’t even cover his expression.

“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to the show-“

“We have like a five hour wiggle room it’s just a minor-“

“I can’t perform thrown off like this!”

“There’s no reason to be thrown off!” I try to keep my volume contained but I can feel eyes on my back.

“I don’t need you right now just go.”

“So I guess the one week rule is true.” I mutter.

“What’s that?” He asks with an i-dare-you expression.

“I said the one week rule of you being an asshole on tour, I guess that was true. I wish someone told me I would have skipped it.”

“Well you could have skipped the whole thing and nobody would notice.”

His comeback is muttered but cuts like a machete and I feel like the words were physically slung at me. I stand there stunned, my heart sinking as he continues to fiddle with his phone until the call connects.

The shock wears off quickly leaving me with the familiar heat of anger. This was how I reacted to Harry and his dickish ways. How dare he? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to treat me like this when he wanted? I clench my fist as his voice rises with Morgan.

But beneath the anger is a raw hurt, his words struck a nerve. The same one Gray had struck once. I was replaceable, and all the efforts I’ve put into my career were unimportant and unappreciated.

I snatch the phone from Harry, annoyed at hearing him talk at Morgan.

“Hey Morgan it’s Y/N, yeah it’s a minor inconvenience but if you can get a bus or something to the airport it should be…”

I look to the hostess and she flashes me two fingers and a shake of her hand.

“About 2 hours to get into the city.” I finish. I nod along to Morgan’s questions and repeat details back. “Yeah just text me on my phone, not Harry’s. We’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you y/n. I’m really glad you’re there today.”

The words are a feather on a pile of nails, it’s nice to hear but Harry’s cruel words still ring in my ear.

I hand the phone back to him, expecting a thank you or an apology, but he just takes it and slinks down in his seat.

“It’s her isn’t it?” Sarah gets up on her seat on her knees to look back at Harry. I pause as I walk up the aisle. Is was who?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mutters with his eyes glued to his screen.

“It is,” someone else says.

“Who?” Claire asks.

“Don’t take his mood personally,” Sarah says to me. “Paris is a touchy city for him.”

“Do you guys ever shut up?” Harry asks.

“No that’s why we’re your crew,” Mitch responds.

“We understand,” Sarah continues. Who was she talking about!? “Just don’t take it out on us. It’s not nice.”

Harry doesn’t respond but I sense a deflating happening on his side. Sarah’s words had gotten through to him but they’d just made me super curious.

I get filled in as we wait at the airport for our bus—Morgan had saved the day.

I hear about Harry’s french lover and how he got his heart broken a couple years ago. How the last time they were in France he had disappeared for a day and they’re all sure he visited her. How he can’t go to Paris without getting in a mood, either because he doesn’t get to see her or he’s anxious about seeing her.

“That’s like a city-specific booty-call.”

“Kinda,” Sarah laughs. “But I think he grew really attached to her so it’s a bit—he’s coming back.”

Harry stomps back to where we are, a tray of coffee in his hands. His team accepts it without a word. The world’s most famous non-verbal apology.

I watch him wearily. I still wanted a verbal apology from him, was that crazy? What he said was deeply hurtful. And hearing about his French lover makes me feel a way that I don’t like so I shut it out. I stick to the anger instead. It was easier.

He starts to warm up as we board the bus, cracking jokes with his band. I pick a seat near the front and stay there with my headphones. Aside from answering Morgan’s texts I pretend to be asleep. Eventually I do.

Someone flicks my hat, “C’mon sleepyhead! We’re in the city of love.”

“Wha?” There’s a crick in my neck and I feel rusty. But Harry’s right, we’d landed in Paris. He hovers above my seat with a jovial smile but it dies the longer I don’t return it. Serves him right. He doesn’t get to be cruel and wipe it away with coffee and a joke.

He gets the hint and boards off. I grab the last of the bags and join the group in the lobby where Morgan greets Harry like his long lost son.

“The trials aren’t over just yet,” he cringes. “I don’t know why Paris keeps fucking with me but we’re booked tight for rooms.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks.

“Uhm well,” Morgan clears his throat. “The hotel overbooked. We have 3 rooms between the 8 of us. Luckily I have a mate who lives in town so I’ll crash at his. The rest of you need to share.”

“Morgan you’re fucking with me,” someone groans.

“No I’m sorry. I booked 5 with an en-suite but they screwed up. They’re refunding us half—I fought for that at least. I can use that to put others in another hotel if you’d like but so far I’ve only managed one room with two doubles.”

“Claire and I can share,” Sarah says.

“Good, Mitch you good with the boys?”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Uh y/n…would you like me to book you an extra room somewhere? I don’t want you to be far from the team-“

“She’ll stay with me.” Harry says. “I’m performing tonight and then we’re moving to Amsterdam tomorrow afternoon so…”

I squirm a little as all eyes fall to me. Cool. Casual. “Sure.”

“Sorted! Let’s get these bags up and out of the way. I’ll have a car waiting down here in a half hour so you can all freshen up and meet me again.”

We trudge along and get off on our respective floors.

“The truth is,” Harry says as we scan ourselves into our room. “I’m probably not even gonna use the bed for the night so it’s all yours.”

“Oh,” I look around the room. It’s got a french touch and a lush queen in the middle. I could deal with not having to share it. I’m sure my fiancé back home would be happier too. Even though I want to ask why I don’t. “Okay.”

We settle our things in silence and a part of me wants to break it and start talking about the ride and Paris but I’m still not over his earlier behaviour so I continue giving the bare minimum. He doesn’t seem to care.

We head off for tests and I end up falling asleep in one of the booths. The tiredness was really creeping up. I could sleep through all the noise the band was making.

A particularly loud screeching from feedback wakes me up. I look down to the group, everyone’s mostly broken up while tech crew tapes down some wires and connects equipment. Harry sits on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet and texting away at his phone. He’s different from the grump this morning. He’s lighter.

Charlie catches me looking and waves, I wave back. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows heavier as the day passes into night.

Paris is not the loudest but super engaged. Everyone has some reference to Harry adorned on their clothing or their face and I can tell Harry has a special connection to the group.

“And finally,” Harry says into the mic. “This is a special song for my French friends. Tonight has been a blessing and I want to merci beaucoup for showing up!”

The crowd cheers as the intro to his song comes on. I listen to the lyrics for the first time since hearing the song last year and connect the dots to what Sarah said earlier. Maybe this was the girl. Maybe this was why he wasn’t sleeping at the hotel tonight.

As we’re leaving the venue and I’m going through a mental list of everything we could have forgotten, we spot a familiar face around back.

“Riley?” Mitch spots him first. “Is that you mate?”

“Hey,” Riley like, Harry’s old assistant Riley is standing with a couple other people who are having a smoke. He squashes his and greets the band who apparently still feel fondly when it comes to him. He looks the exact same but my feelings towards him are curdled after knowing what he’s like and how he left us high and dry.

That leaves Harry and I still hovering by the entrance alone, staring at the reunion by the time Riley comes up to us. I guess the band knew his friends because they get to chatting. I remember then, Riley ditched Harry to work for one of his friends. Must be a small world.

“Why the long face you two, c’mon still not holding a grudge are we?”

“Riley,” Harry addresses him. I stay silent, watching Riley from where I stand behind Harry.

“Nice to see Y/N’s still sticking around. How are you liking tour life?”

“Did you come to the show?” I find my voice.

“Yeah,” he nods all friendly like this was casual and he’s done nothing wrong ever. “I might be biased because I worked for the guy but Harry Styles is one of my top artist. And I’m in Paris until the Fall so why not come support him.”

“Well,” Harry says in the same deadpan voice. “Thanks for the support Riley.”

Riley glances over at him, smug. He knows he’s annoying Harry. So maybe I wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of doing that.

“Oh c’mon you’re still upset with me jumping ship? It’s been months! Y/N we’re cool right-“

Riley moves to walk past Harry and to me but Harry side-steps to stay in his way. I look at Harry. So does Riley, confusion sliding away to amusement.

“Oh I see,” he steps back, arms crossed. “Harry you sly dog you did it again.”

“We’re going now,” Harry says. “Try not to show up at any other shows.”

Harry tried to leave and I take the few steps to follow but Riley starts again.

“So y/n you fell for his trick too? I’m disappointed I thought you were immune.” Riley continues. “How’d he get you to the bedroom? Lots of booze? Or did you not even make it to the bedroom? Was it being treated like shit that did it for you?”

“What?” Now in the middle, I look between the two, wondering how this conversation took such a bizarre turn.

“You have some obsession with me Riley?” Harry steps back towards us. “Because you sure enjoy making up stories in your head with me starring in it. Don’t rope y/n into them either.”

“Not all stories,” Riley stays smug. “Some of them I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

They had to be talking about the last PA. The story Riley told me. Which means he thinks I…

“You really should watch what you talk about,” Harry reminds him.

Riley turns his attention to me, “Y/N I thought I warned you good enough. But I guess you put out as easily as the last one.”

“Riley whatever drama you’re trying to-“

“Mate,” Harry gets in Riley’s face so he can’t even look at me. I go quiet. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I get security to kick you out permanently.”

“Being the knight in shining armour doesn’t really suit you Haz,” Riley says. With one final judgemental look thrown my way he walks away. I have to lay a hand on Harry’s arm just to keep him from lunging at him but as soon as my hand makes contact he brushes me away.

This whole interaction was ego-bruising. “Why did he think-“

“Ignore him.” Harry cuts me off, his back still to me. His band, having watched the final scene unfold, now awkwardly shuffles back to us. “You okay?”

“Yeah but why-“

“Good.”

He cuts me off from asking anything and I don’t get to push because the group tries to defuse the situation by changing the subject. That includes the girls inviting me for drinks at their favourite parisian place. Harry disappears and so do those answers.

I try to poke whether the girls at dinner knew anything about his last PA but they barely met her. So I’m forced to eat oysters when they find out I’d never had them and the subject changes quickly to new and other things.

“So oysters thumbs up or down?” I’m asked as I slowly eat another.

“Weird texture…ehh?” I hover my thumb in the middle.

“Well too bad your partner—what’s his name again?” They ask. I tell her. “Ooh good name. Too bad Grayson isn’t here to cash in on all these oysters.”

They laugh and I think I’m not drunk enough to laugh as much with.

It’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we get back to the hotel. I crash alone as soon as my head hits the pillow.

***

After three weeks of tour I’m ecstatic to get back home. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for more than a day, I wanted a shower with even temperature, and I wanted a home-cooked meal.

And I wanted Gray.

I even catch an earlier flight—the night before rather than the next morning. I build up surprising Gray so much that I end up being the one who’s surprised when I come home to an empty flat.

I double check I’d set my phone back to the right time but it’s nearly 11. He must be out with friends, not a client.

I want to call him but still hold the idea of a surprise so I take a shower instead, put a load of laundry in, and make myself a sandwich. I crawl into bed at 1, still no Gray.

I end up tapping through our friends’ stories and find him in one. At least I knew where he was. But 2/3 photos I can find of him, Bex is standing too close for comfort.

I can tell by the photos there’s nothing going on. From his end. The most contact they have is his arm around her shoulder but for some reason all of this makes me mad. I’d broken it down to him that he couldn’t talk with people who had a thing for him because they would only give biased advice. But he didn’t listen. He said I was reading into it too much. And here she was, gazing up at him in every damn photo.

I hate that I wasn’t even home for a couple hours and already found something to annoy me.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after because I wake to poking on my side.

“Y/n? Is that really you? Y/n? Y/n?”

Gray.

“Hi,” I turn in bed. “I’m home early.”

“Shit!” He stands and sways back slightly. Wow, he was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this inebriated in a hot minute. “You didn’t say!”

“I know I-“

“I thought I imagined you.”

“Nope all here,” I grit my teeth. Why was I annoyed at my boyfriend for having a life, I scold myself.

Why is he so drunk and is this a new thing or did he only get this way cuz I’m not around?

“You finally came back to me,” he slurs. He smells like a brewery as he climbs into bed and I wish I could force a shower on him but I get swept up in his arms. “Hey you were right by the way.”

“About?”

“About.”

“Gray! What was I right about?”

“I’m getting to it! You. Were right. About Bex.”

“H-how do you know?” Weird coincidence. Or not?

“Sheshe she tried to kiss me!” He falls back laughing in bed. “I said nooo cuz I have a fiancée. Y/N. Oops. She was maaad.”

My heart drops. I knew it. That little bitch! And she had to go and try to kiss my man when he’s drunk! I officially didn’t like her. And the story itself adds to my irritation.

“Wow. Crazy. I’m tired as hell so I’m going to bed.”

I turn and leave my back to Gray. I didn’t want to see him this drunk, this chill about someone I warned him about trying to kiss him.

He splays on the bed where he is, draping an arm over me and pretty soon I hear his even breathing. That annoys me too, that he could fall asleep so quick. His arm is a weight over my body and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed and out of view.

***

It’s like Grayson and I have forgotten how to live with each other.

What starts out as minor annoyances turn into bickering pretty quickly. Our 1 bedroom flat begins to feel cramped and I desperately try to cling onto the idea of us because I can’t fathom us fizzling out like this but my fingernails are raw from scraping threads.

Work is the easiest it’s been in a while. With no set working hours I just spend a few hours everyday doing admin and running errands. Otherwise, unless somebody calls me I’m free.

I thought it would be great. So much free time with Gray, we could continue planning the wedding and catch up again. But he busies himself with work, and when we go on dates he doesn’t make much of an effort to talk. It’s like getting to know him all over again except he’s a broodier version of himself. It makes me mad and I end up picking fights.

I book brunch with some of the girls on the last Saturday I’m home, thinking it might help to have space from Gray and see other people. I thought everything would be fine. And it is, on a surface level—they treat me perfectly normal.

Except the only time they gave me space to talk about myself went something like this,

“So Y/N how are you? Busy touring how is that?”

“Oh yeah it was great! Really taxing but fulfilling too. I went to so many cities I haven’t visited even though I’ve been in London for like 7 years? Copenhagen was one of my fave-

“Ooh. Yeah I really want to visit Copenhagen this summer.”

“Oh I love Copenhagen…”

And I was officially asked out of sharing my own life. The rest of brunch was me reacting to everyone else’s stories and having the subject change quickly after I brought up anything about myself. When I mentioned Gray casually, I could feel the judgement. It’s like they were waiting on me to complain about him so they could pounce. It’s a weird and tiring energy.

As we all say our goodbyes I manage to catch Rebecca alone.

“Hey Bex,” I stop her on the edge of the group. “I know we haven’t talked much lately but I just want to say I don’t appreciate the moves you’re making on Gray.”

She raises a brow, “moves?”

“He told me you tried to kiss him. Those kinds of moves.”

Her face pinches. “Well someone has to make some.”

“Excuse me?” She tries to walk away but I rush to step in front of her.

“It’s no secret you and Gray are on the road to a breakup,” she has the audacity to look judgey in that moment and I want to slap the look off her face.

“What the fuck do you know about me and Gray? Back. Off.”

“Hey what’s going on?” One of our other friends drifts towards us and I notice they’re all looking our way.

“Just a friendly chat,” I say with sarcasm you can’t miss. At the same time Bex responds, “Y/n’s being delusional.”

I was going to get physical, I step back towards her but our friends get between us. I think they knew uni me, and knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation.

“What the fuck y/n?” I was so tired of the look on their faces, like I was crazy.

“She tried to kiss Gray!” I reveal. “Last week! I’m just telling her to back off and I have every right to!”

It’s news to them. They turn to Bex who’s fidgeting with her sweater as a flush creeps up her neck.

“I-I he did! He tried to kiss me!”

I snort, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Rebecca. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh yeah we all know you don’t have time y/n, you’re so busy these days.”

“Bex!” Someone scolds her.

“Somebody better teach her hand to keep her hand over her mouth because I will get through all of you if it means getting to her. You know you guys don’t know shit about my life. And you don’t even care to these days! Just because Gray told his sob side you guys treat me like-like shit!”

“That’s not true-“

“It is! You don’t even know my side! And I don’t care to explain because you lot are supposed to be our friends, not the judge and jury of my relationship.”

They stare blankly at me and nobody denies it so I continue: “I try so hard to stay involved in your lives knowing I can’t make it to half of our parties, I’m always messaging you guys and trying to stay on top of your socials to know what’s going on in your lives. I feel like I make all the effort and I’m just made the pariah.”

It feels good getting it off my chest. It feels amazing. I feel like I’m breathing an actual lungful of air now.

“We’re sorry if we made you feel that way.” I look at who’s said this. One of my oldest friends from uni. I scoff.

“You’re sorry if you made me feel that way?! I just said you did!”

“Sorry,” she says, quieter.

“Y’know it’s…it’s disappointing. I thought, when we became best friends first year of uni nothing could shake the bond we had. Apparently a man you met 3 years ago who vented to you about your best friend was just the thing.” All their faces are small and nobody makes eye contact with me. “Anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment. Let’s not do this again.”

I walk away, proud of myself for saying what I had to and getting it off my chest. For sticking up for myself.

But the farther away I get, the more the adrenaline crashes through me and I end up walking onto the tube on shaky legs and collapsing in my seat. The reality of what’s happened falls into my lap and I see a bunch of burned bridges.

I spend a couple extra hours out after my appointment. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I let my feet carry me through the city as my mind continues to whir.

Harry texts me, asking me to stop by his place before I fly back for tour tomorrow evening. Apparently the concierge needed all his mail picked up and he needed a few of the items. It annoys me that he waited last minute to ask.

When I get home at 4, Gray’s vacuuming the flat. He stops it when I come in.

“Hey.”

“How was brunch?”

It’s the way he asks. I know he knows. Which means a group chat exists with our friends and him without me. It feels like another betrayal. Who keeps their partner out deliberately? Who opens up their relationship like a hockey net, open for anyone to take shots at?

“Why’re you asking?” I feel another fight coming.

“I can’t ask you how brunch went?”

“Did you hear something? Let me guess, did Bex snitch?”

“No, chill out why would Bex snitch?”

“Grayson,” I look at him deadpan. “Don’t bullshit me. If you have any respect for me, which I know now is not a lot, don’t bullshit me.”

He sighs but doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t lie and doesn’t tell the truth.

“So?” I ask. “Is there like a group chat or something?”

“Let’s just drop it-“

“No! I’m not dropping this when you brought it up. So is there? Did you disrespect me in front of all our friends by talking shit, and then do it even more by allowing them to ice me out in a group chat you knew I wasn’t part of?”

He doesn’t respond. My temper flares.

“The hurtful part isn’t even not being part of the chat, it’s that you didn’t tell me.”

It makes sense now. I was always initiating birthday messages there or privately, thinking everyone was forgetting to wish each other. Now I know I was public fool number one keeping that convo alive when they were probably all wishing each other elsewhere. God. I was an idiot!

“Look I’m sorry y/n, after you stopped showing up to things they just made a new one so they don’t bother you.”

“Oh is that why? Because that was active up until a few months ago. So according to the timeline it was probably when you fucked up and talked shit about me to all our friends and they decided I was a bitch and they should all cancel me! Well I hope you’re happy Gray!”

“I’m not! I’m sorry I didn’t realize-“

“Stop!” I slam my hand into the wall and it hurts harder than I anticipated but I bite back the pain. “Just admit it! You want to paint me as the bad guy so fucking hard, and I am in some ways I know I’m far from perfect Gray! But instead of talking to me like normal fucking people do, you just iced me out and then isolated me from the only friends I’ve ever made in this stupid fucking city!”

I can’t help the tears now even though I don’t want to cry. I want to rage and scream and throw things about but the hurt is bigger and it bubbles over the pot and sears my heart.

I leave my shopping bags where I’ve dropped them and walk back out of the door before he can come up with a response. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. He’s betrayed me over and over and the whole time I was desperately trying to show him I hadn’t changed and I loved him.

I walk the 40 minute to Harry’s and the early evening air helps me learn how to breathe again. I take in gulps of it and try not to cry. I didn’t want to waste tears on Gray and my stupid friends. I didn’t want to do any of this! I just wanted to press pause on my whole damn life and take a nap.

Outside his building I pull out my phone and make sure I don’t look crazed. My hand is killing me and I ignore the bruising blooming fresh.

The concierge spots me just as I enter, and we make small talk about Harry on tour and his last few shows that would happen in London. I make a note to mention to Harry to send him tickets—apparently his niece listened to him.

He helps me load a cart with Harry’s mail and take it upstairs.

It had been over a month since I’d been in here and it’s weird that it feels comforting. Or maybe that was just after two weeks of feeling like a stranger at home.

Harry’s words on the plane echo back to me. Not that I was appreciated here either.

If there was ever a time to go back home to the States, it would be now. But that felt like running away. I had to sort my life out here before I made any rash decisions.

With a sigh I dump the paper onto the coffee table. After sorting what looked like bills from letters from miscellaneous I spot the two envelopes Harry wanted and put it to the side. I open the boxes next and locate his custom orthopaedic inserts he asked me to grab too.

I take the extra mail to my office to sort out. In the familiar closed quarters where I’d spent too much time in the last year rolling through a hundred phases, my feelings edge out of me. I try to wipe the tears and continue on but I end up pathetically sat over on the chair crying until I can barely breathe.

It’s pathetic because this is the first space I’ve felt I had the space to cry. And it was where I worked. Where, apparently, I wouldn’t even be missed.

New tears. Less breaths.

“Get it the fuck together,” I say between gasps. “That’s. Enough.”

Through my own self-talk I manage to calm down enough to finish the work. It’s half past 8 by the time I get back to the main living area. I get water to rehydrate myself and stay sitting on the couch staring into space for another ten minutes. I don’t think I had any more tears to cry. Just a rock in place of my heart and another bigger one attached to my ankle.

“Okay,” I finally get the courage to head home.

The end isn’t big and explosive. It’s a simple statement: I think we both know what needs to be done now.

I don’t fight him this time. I have no fight left in me. I just nod.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and still drop you off tomorrow,” he reassures me.

“Just sleep in bed,” I couldn’t even muster enough energy for expression. My flat tone is how I felt. “You don’t fit on the couch. And I’ll get myself to the airport.”

“No I’ll take you. I’ve already made the arrangements-“

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore Gray,” I say. He looks crestfallen and it irks me that he does. I didn’t want him to be sad, it was ridiculous but it was.

“Well I’ll take you anyway.” He says then turns back to the TV.

I wash the day off and make sure everything is packed for my early flight tomorrow. As I lay in bed alone I realize this might be the last time I ever sleep here. Like this. I would have to move all my shit out. Oh god, the wedding. I’d have to cancel my dress shopping dates and the cake testing, the invites we were still designing.

We’d only told our friends it was going to be a winter wedding, I’m glad we never gave them a date. Nobody had marked their calendars. Nothing about us would been permanent.

I look down at the simple ring on my hand. Everything but that.

I keep it on.

I’m still awake when Gray comes to bed but I pretend to sleep. My mind can’t stop making lists to answer: what now.

I’m in a fugue state all night and the only thing that clears the fog is the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink.

Quiet, so I don’t wake Gray, I get up and dressed. I order a taxi and try not to linger on the hurt of doing this alone. Of Gray waking up to an empty bed.

The flight to Madrid is a couple hours and I miraculously nap through it. Everyone is happy to see me when I get back, especially when I present them with snacks they’d all said they missed from home while we were on tour. With them in hand, I’m an angel in their eyes.

I hand Harry his mail and he stops me. His eyes don’t stop examining my face.

“What happened to your hand?” He asks.

I’d picked up a bandaging kit and ice pack at the airport and with the help of Youtube, wrapped it up. It had started to bruise even worse but I couldn’t be arsed to deal with it even though it hurt. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.

“I accidentally got it caught in a door,” I lie easily. I had practiced. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you get it checked?”

“No.”

“Make sure you do, tonight’s show.”

“Sure. It’s really nothing though.”

“You sure?” He asks. His gaze is unnerving.

“Mhm,” I nod.

He’s silent, eyes scanning my face. Right as I decide I couldn’t take the scrutiny he asks, “Why were you crying last night?”

I stare, unsure what kind of trick he was playing.

“Sorry.” He laughs to himself. “I have one of those uh, motion sensor cameras in the entryway. I turn it on while I’m away so it sends like, automatic clips if there’s movement. I saw you come in and leave.”

“Oh.” Shit. Think fast. Think fast. “I uhm, got into it with some friends I had a meal with. Y’know…they were being a bit icy cuz of what they’ve heard. I’m over it though.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flicker down to my hand.

“Yeah.” I hold his green eyes for a moment, to reassure him I’m okay. I don’t know why he cares, maybe because I looked like a right mess last night as I left. How embarrassing. But I do my best acting job ever.

Satisfied, he lets me go. I return to the group asking for updates and any stories they wanted to share. Before long I’m laughing along and creeping out of my depressed mood. But something heavier still lingers.

***

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles series #dos and donts #harry styles au #like I’m actually annoyed I had to split this up #because it’s supposed to get more interesting #ugh tumblr and its word limit…#musician!harry #well excited to finish the final part tho

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