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anqelically · 2 days

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TILL DEATH DO US PART 𖤐 SAMURAI!YUTA OKKOTSU

i. VOWS SWORN AND BROKEN

SUMMARY. abeit unwilling, you began to be accompanied by a new samurai your age. you learned that he’s better than you initially thought he was

WORD COUNT. 4.6k

SERIES SUMMARY. Set in Edo Japan, you, daughter of the L/N Clan’s head, are left powerless while your clan is on the brink of a war with the Zenin. In order to protect the clan’s future leader, your father assigned a samurai to remain by your side. Although his duty is only to protect you, Yuta Okkotsu couldn’t help the feelings that developed along the way

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

You wanted to be free.

Every other morning, except when the weather was bad, you’d sit near the sliding window of your room and watch outside. You’d observe the small birds that perched themselves on the roof of the estate, watching them scurry about before flying away.

You wanted to fly— to be free in the way that the birds were. They could leave, flying anywhere the wind would take them. You wanted that, to leave and live out your years beyond the confines of the L/N estate. However, you knew better than that. For as long as you lived, you’d be stuck inside the same walls.

Even if you fled, you had no place to go. You had no friends to ask for help, and you were sure that no one would want to take you in either. After all, if they were found hiding you after running away, their heads would’ve been cut off in an instant.

You never appreciated the family you were born into, even if there were many who wished to be you because you were born into your family. It suffocated you and held you back from leading a mundane life many hated, but you desired. Freedom was not your friend, but something you could only yearn for.

Your father, head of the esteemed L/N clan, was anything but your friend. He was aggressive and quick to get angry with you, even if you made a simple, reversible mistake. You knew he blamed you for your mother’s death, even if you had no choice in what had happened. The deadly infection your mother got shortly after giving birth was not your fault.

He didn’t let you go outside often, leaving you to spend most of your days at the estate. It also never helped that the L/N’s were fighting with the Zenin clan, another noble, aristocratic clan. The Zenins were aggressive in the same way your father was, so the relationship between the two clans would never work out.

Some samurai from each clan had fallen due to a number of fights, but each one had more deaths than the last. It was getting dangerous, and even someone like you, who never had anything to do with the fighting, could tell. The people of your clan were growing frantic and afraid, and you were sure it was the same for the Zenins.

Eventually, your father sought out more samurai to serve as guards. You thought he wanted to place more of them around the estate in case of a surprise attack, but it was a surprise to you when one of the said samurai knocked on your bedroom door.

Yuta Okkotsu was his name, and he was assigned to protect you specifically. Although you had argued that you didn’t need anybody’s protection, your father said otherwise. You were stuck with a boy who was no older than you were as your bodyguard. could he even protect you? You were only 16 years old, and sure he was the same. 16 is the age most began their training, not the age they were already put to samurai duties.

Within a day of yuta guarding you, you already hated it. He was silent as he did his job, following you around the estate as you tried to go about your usual business, which wasn’t much. Yuta did the same thing the following days, keeping himself a few steps behind you. The only times you were free of his presence were in your bathroom, and during your bedtime, which was when he opted to stand outside your door instead

But even if you didn’t like having him around, he was the reason your father allowed you out more. You often went into town and roamed around, usually visiting small stalls that were selling food and buying some as Yuta trailed behind you and watched.

You hated the feeling of being watched so one day, months after he began to guard you, you had the idea to lose Yuta while you were both in town. You had a plan, one that you thought would work out well, and executed it on the weekend. The marketplace was busy, so you took your chance and ran into the crowd. Yuta, alarmed, ran after you. He didn’t catch up and lost you in the swarm of bustling people.

‘Finally,’ you thought as you repeatedly checked behind for your guard. ‘I have some alone time for myself’

It was naive of you to believe that was it.

Your feet quickly carried you through the crowd, and you eventually found a path that’d carry you to your destination. Deep into the forest, in a space that resided by the L/N estate, was a scenic lake that you claimed as your spot.

Although most of the trees surrounded the lake, there was a small space for sunlight to shine through clearly. It illuminated the bare Sakura trees during the night unless it was springtime, the time in which those three trees blossomed.

You were nearing the lake when a hand suddenly caught your arm. You yelped in surprise, turning to see a random man dressed in a kimono. His dark eyes bore into yours with ill intent as he pressed his fingers further into your arm. It was then that the hairs on your arms stood straight.

“I knew my eyes weren’t deceiving me. This pin on your yukata,” he harshly pulled your body closer, “is the L/N family’s. Only the head and their direct family wear it. You’re the head’s daughter, aren’t you?”

You mentally cursed your family’s representative pin. Although you could use your noble status to your advantage in certain situations, it was also a curse. The man in front of you was a Zenin, which you could tell by the badge stitched onto his sleeve. You were in deep trouble.

“I’m… Let me go,” you pleaded. You knew it was useless but spoke anyway, “Let me go and you won’t face the wrath of my clan. I have a samurai w-with me and-“

“You mean the scrawny boy you left behind?” the man laughed. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while, and I can tell you that he’s long gone.”

‘How stupid,’ you thought. You were acting like an idiot, too focused on trying to find some free time when there were people out for your blood. Although they didn’t want you dead specifically, killing the head of the L/N clan’s only child was more than enough to temporarily satisfy the zenins. Killing you meant there was no one left to inherit the title of clan leader when your father would die.

You didn’t want to die.

Without any warning, you kicked the man where it hurt. His grip on you loosened as he went to cover his privates in pain, and you took that opportunity to run. You didn’t get too far when you felt a rock hit your ankle. The sharp pain instantly made you fall.

You attempted to crawl away, but your efforts were futile. The man grabbed you by the ankle he hit, causing you to gasp in pain. He then pulled you closer, striking your face to silence you. You still fought back, however, hands and legs attempting to push him off.

“Get—! Get off!”

The two of you continued, and the man eventually resorted to choking you out. His arm pressed against your neck tightly, and you were left with almost no air to breathe. Your arms weakly pushed at his face as if it would do anything.

You were close to passing out when his head was suddenly sent flying. The blood from his neck splattered across your face and eventually dripped down onto your clothes as you coughed for air. His body would’ve dropped onto you if it weren’t for someone kicking it to the side.

You sat up straight, wide-eyed, about to get a good look at The body until someone placed their hand under your chin. Your head turned to face Yuta, who knelt in front of you. A bead of sweat ran down his temple as he examined you carefully. Your dirt-stained hand wiped the blood off your left eyelid before you realized he was talking to you.

Despite Yuta’s lips moving, no noise had reached your ears. You turned to the Zenin’s body at the side. his decapitated head lay open-eyed a few feet away from the rest of the body. Yuta boy noticed your glance and stopped talking, recognizing the look of shock on your face.

You were Y/N L/N, of course you had never witnessed such a scene. You were the “closeted princess”, a name that he heard a few fellow samurai call you. Although you knew such things were not a rare occurrence, experiencing it was different than hearing about it.

“Let’s get you back,” you finally heard him speak. Yuta’s voice sounded softer than you expected. “Can you walk for me?”

You met his eyes before you looked down at your leg, “My ankle…”

Yuta followed your eyes and lifted your foot. Your ankle, which throbbed relentlessly, was bleeding. You must’ve gotten the gash from the Zenin samurai earlier.

He sighed, “I see. I’ll carry you back to the estate, then.”

And that’s what he did. Yuta sheathed his katana before he lifted you into his arms and carried you towards the L/N estate. You didn’t want to be seen by a doctor, so he decided to bandage your wounds for you. It wasn’t like you knew how to properly do it, anyway.

After you took a bath, you sat on your bed as he wrapped white bandages around your palms. They had gotten scratched up when you fell onto the ground, as well as your knees. You stayed silent as Yuta rubbed on some ointment before dressing your minor wounds.

Now that you were close, you could get a good look at the boy. You never bothered to pay attention to the details of his face before. His cheeks were rounded and his nose was softly shaped. Although you thought his eyes were close to a shade of grey, they were more of a darker blue up close.

“We’re the same age, are we not?”

Yuta looked up at you, “We are. Why are you asking?”

“You didn’t even flinch at the sight,” you spoke quietly. “When you cut that man’s head off, you made it seem like nothing.”

“I am a warrior. I cannot let something like that break me so easily, especially when I have duties to fulfill,” he explained.

“Such as?”

“Protecting you.”

Silence ensued between the two of you, allowing your thoughts to consume you as you sat. Despite all the trouble you caused, he had come and saved you from meeting an early demise. It was all thanks to Yuta that you were still alive.

Once he finished bandaging you up, you stood. The pain in your ankle had subsided, though you still tried to lean your weight onto your other foot. Yuta stood straight while you bowed at him, your hands at your side. He was left shocked at the action.

“Thank you,” you said gratefully. “That manâ€¦ who knows what he or the Zenins would’ve done to me if you weren’t there. I owe you my life, Yuta Okkotsu.”

“There is no need for any thanks. It’s my duty to protect you, whether you like it or not. Please, do not bow for me.”

“Even so,” you stood straight, “I meant what I said. Even if it’s your duty, I am thankful for you saving me. I just hope it doesn’t become a common occurrence for me to run into them on my own.”

“There is no need for you to fret,” Yuta took out his sheathed sword and held it in front of you. You stared at it, and then at him, wondering why he held it. “I swear on this sword of mine that I’ll always be there to protect you.”

The samurai was true to his word. As a year passed and tensions between the L/N’s and the Zenin worsened, Yuta stuck by your side. Although you still hated the feeling of being trapped with someone else, you learned to see his presence as a friend’s, and not just a mere guard’s.

He still respected your privacy and also learned to give you more space when inside the estate. But now, when you went out, he kept a closer watch on you and the surrounding area. After the incident with one of the Zenin’s, you grew appreciative of his watchful gaze outside.

However, a trigger away from war, you began to barely leave the estate. You were trapped once again, suffocating in boredom. Although the estate was quite large and there were various things to do inside, none of them interested you. Even though the weather was nice and you wanted to roam around town, your father wouldn’t allow you to leave.��

Our only source of outside entertainment was Yuta’s small gifts. Almost every other day he had something new for you. Dango from a new stand, unique jewelry, kites to fly in the estate’s garden, handmade pins. Anything you named and anything he thought you’d enjoy would be brought home to you. He was making an effort to keep you entertained, and you appreciated it.

Nonetheless, you sought more than that. One day, you asked Yuta if the two of you could leave at night. You wanted to spend some time at your spot, even if it became known to tuta. You were sure he wouldn’t be able to memorize the path at night anyway.

“It’s not safe to be roaming around, especially at nighttime,” he reminded you. Even though he wanted you to have as much fun as you could, your safety was his top priority.

“There will always be risks.” You recalled, “Though, I do remember you swearing that you’ll always protect me. Where I want to go is a place no one else ever goes to, I promise.”

You stood close to him, a pleading look in your eyes. Yuta stared back at you with a contemplative expression. He wanted to reject your idea flatly, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

He sighed, “Alright, I’ll come out with you tonight. Your father is leaving for the Gojo clan’s estate after supper. When the sun sets, we’ll leave.”

“Oh how wonderful you are,” you cheered, wrapping your arms around the samurai. He stiffened in his spot as you jumped against him. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Later in the day, you eventually saw your father out of the estate. With his body of samurai, they left towards the Gojo estate, which resided quite a distance away. Although you didn’t know why they were meeting, you were sure it was to prepare even more measures against the Zenin. After all, the enemy of your enemy is your ally.

Yuta followed right behind you as you navigated through the forest. You walked as if you knew the path by heart, which you did. Although Yuta suggested you two bring an oil lamp for light, you told him it wasn’t necessary. You moved in the dark without hitting anything while even yuta was struggling to see. He now understood why nobody else wandered around there.

Eventually, the two of you arrived at your beloved spot. Since it was early spring, the Sakura trees had blossomed pink around the lake. No matter how many times you had seen the sight, you remained in awe of it.

Yuta also admired the view in front of him. Blossoms from the trees fell and slowly drifted into the lake as each breeze passed. The scenery was one he wouldn’t mind having painted in his mind.

You noticed the look in his eyes and smiled, “I found this area during the fall years ago. It was the middle of the day, so it was definitely easier getting here, even if I didn’t know the way back then. When I came back in the spring, it was a scene I could never forget.”

“I can see why you would never forget it. It’s beautiful.”

“Happy we came out here?”

He glanced at you, “I’ll be happy if you also get back safely.”

You corrected him, “When we get back safely. Don’t leave yourself out of it just because you’re supposed to protect me. I won’t let you die for me.”

“I don’t have any issue with-“

“That doesn’t matter,” you cut him off. “It’s not right for you to give your life up for mine. Plus, there isn’t anyone else I’d rather have around.”

His heart tightened slightly, “Is that so?”

“It very much is,” you began to walk towards the lake. “You seemed cold when I met you for the first time. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, you’re just awkward and a tad shy.”

“Ah, don’t remind me,” Yuta turned his head as he walked beside you. “I’m glad your perspective of me has changed.”

When you two stood directly in front of the lake, you were quick to take off your shoes and lift the end of your kimono. You dipped your foot into the water, testing out the temperature. After all the walking it took to get there, the coolness of the water made a satisfied breath leave your lips.

Without a care for the decorative fabric you were dressed in, you sat down on the grass and submerged your legs into the water. Yuta watched as your body immediately relaxed, and he then joined you at your request. Just like you did, he let out a small sigh of relief.

“Why did you become a samurai?” you asked. “I mean, all you do is spend your time watching over me. Doesn’t it bore you?”

Yuta’s voice softened, “Not at all. I like to think of it as spending time with you, even if it is my duty. You would never bore me.”

Your lips parted in an effort to respond, but you found nothing to say. All of Yuta’s sweet words always managed to take yours away. He began to speak again before you could even move.

“I lost my best friend when I was young. Our village was under attack, and there was no one protecting us. There used to be samurai assigned to us, but they got bored of sitting around and never came back. After all, why would a small, poor village like ours need protection?”

As Yuta spoke, he had a face of longing and despondence. In all the time you spent together, you had never seen him sound or look such a way. Behind the small smile he always gave you was a face of despair that would come out easily at the mention of his late friend.

You let him continue, “The men that attacked us killed and burned most of the village down, and I was part of the few lucky survivors. When I saw my friend’s body burning up in flames, something ignited in me. I wanted to become a samurai who would protect others, unlike the ones who ran away from their duties. After a long time of dreaming and training, I became a samurai assigned to you. Protecting you wasn’t the samurai life I envisioned, but I’m glad I got the opportunity. I wouldn’t want it any other way, Y/N.”

His head turned to look at you, and he was met with your face being only a breath’s distance away from his. Yuta stared at you fondly, and you reciprocated his look without realizing.

Even the smallest of moments together with you he cherished. Yuta was hesitant to be assigned you at first. Yes, you were his age and someone he should be able to get along with, but it was that exact reason that made him nervous. You were his age, and a girl from the L/N clan, one mistake and he thought his newly-begun career would be over at your word.

He found himself lucky that you were different than what he envisioned. You weren’t demanding in any bit, but that was only because you didn’t want him there at all. However, once he saved you that one day from the Zenin man, you opened up and slowly accepted his presence, and that acceptance slowly turned into a want of having him around.

Yuta wanted to stay with you too.

He had paused when the thought crossed his mind, ‘Why? Why am I thinking this way?’

He was assigned one duty, and that was to protect you. For as long as Yuta was assigned your guard, he had to protect you. There was supposed to be no room foro his personal feelings or desires, but his thoughts said otherwise.

Why did he think that way? There was only one reason why, and it obviously had to do with my. you. You, who he strived to stay close by. All of his feelings, actions, and wants led to one conclusion— Yuta Okkotsu had fallen for you.

Your face had leaned towards his the slightest bit when he violently jerked back. You were startled at his sudden action, watching as he abruptly stood up with a disturbed face. You wondered what was making him feel such.

“We should head back right now,” he suggested before you could even question him.

You scrambled to get up, “W-wait, I-“

“The longer we’re out here, the more dangerous it becomes. Someone may have followed us out here. We shouldn’t delay.”

Yuta spoke in a way that caused you to stiffen, his words cold. You felt as if you owed him an apology, though you didn’t know what for. You silently accepted the fact that you had to leave when he couldn’t face you, though you couldn’t help but wonder what you did wrong. In a defeated frame of mind, you pinched the end of his sleeve and led him back to the estate.

—

You were angry. No, angry was too strong of a word to describe how you felt. Frustrated was the perfect word to describe it. You weren’t meant to hear the maids’ gossip, but catching a snippet of their conversation was more than enough for you to listen in.

“…the boy seemed to be doing his job well enough.”

“That girl, I wonder what trouble she caused this time.”

“We’ve served L/N-sama and Y/N for years, but that girl is always full of surprises. Maybe she made a move on the samurai.”

“Well whatever she did, that Okkotsu requested to switch places with one of L/N-sama’s guards-”

And you drowned out the rest of their talk.

When word first reached your ears you were shocked. You leaned against the wall as you listened, your hands gripping at your sides. Shock turned into confusion, and that confusion eventually resulted in frustration.

Yuta didn’t want to be by your side any longer, and the thought of that alone made you upset. Over a month passed since the incident at the lake. Was he upset over that? Was he suddenly sick of you? You felt the distance slowly grow after what happened, but you never thought it’d result in this.

Not afraid of confronting him, you searched for him around the estate. You found him walking, his aura the slightest disheartened. If anyone should’ve felt that way, you thought that it should’ve been you.

You walked up to him and placed a finger on his chest, “You’re a liar.”

He glanced at you, confused, “Y/N?”

“You’ve been distancing yourself from me these days, and I have to hear from another that you want to switch duties with somebody else?”

“Y/N, please-“ Yuta glanced around.

“Don’t Y/N me,” you furrowed your brows. “Why couldn’t you tell me straight to my face? What do you not want to- Hey!”

The boy suddenly caught you by your arm and dragged you towards your room. You could care less about the looks the two of you were sent by witnesses, something Yuta could not do. He steeled his face as they passed their judgments, rushing to bring you to your room.

When you arrived, you tore your arm away from his grip. You wanted to tell him off and say he had no right to drag you all the way to your bedroom, but you already lost the argument by letting him do so in the first place.

Yuta massaged his temples as he stared into your eyes, “Please don’t make this harder than it already is to do.”

You huffed, “I don’t want to argue or be difficult, but this is unfair! You promised me that you’d always be by my side to protect me. You're breaking your promise to me, Yuta, without reason. That’s not fair.”

“Breaking my promise is the last thing I want to do, but it’s more complicated than that. I’m a samurai, Y/N, and my feelings mustn’t get in the way of my duties.”

When his eyes had met yours, a wave of guilt coursed through your body and any bitter feelings disappeared. The first thought that came to mind was how he had violently pulled away from you when you leaned your lips closer to his. Did he grow uncomfortable with you?

“I’m sorry for that day by the lake,” you apologized. Yuta’s lips parted. “I-I don’t know what I was thinking. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I swear it’s true.”

“Then why did you lean in? Was it just because you could?”

Your heart skipped a beat, “Not at all! It was like my body had moved out of its own will. I thinkâ€¦ I think I was lost in the moment, that’s all. That must’ve been it.”

So even you were confused as to whyâ€” any sliver of hope within his heart had disappeared. Were Yuta’s feelings reciprocated? Did you lean in for the sake of craving a kiss? Was there another reason behind it?

“Maybe it is better for someone else to guard you after all. we’ll only get hurt if we remain around each other, Y/N.”

“How so? we’ve been just fine this past year! I know I messed up, but-“

“But it wasn’t you who messed up, you see. It was me. I made the mistake of getting too attached. As I told you, my feelings and work can’t mix. I attract misfortune to those I love—“

Yuta’s hand tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. His fingers then traveled down to caress your cheek ever so gently, holding you as if this time would be the last. You could only stand with your heart hammering against your chest as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. He told himself that this would be his first, and last, time doing so.

“—and I’m afraid that doesn’t exclude you.”

“That’s… What are you saying, Yuta?”

He gave you a thoughtful stare. Before Yuta could reply, a knock sounded at your door. You both immediately pulled away before a servant opened the door and announced that your father was calling you down.

Yuta answered for you, saying that he’d escort you down immediately. So, left without an answer, you two walked in silence to your father. And every question you had left you confused for the following year, since all that Yuta parted with was a “Sorry”.

NOTE. and this is chapter 1 thank you for your patience!! i should probably say that this series is fast-paced + has lots of time jumps, since everything will be taking place over the course of a few years. at the start of this chapter they were 16, for example, but they’re 18 at the end

TAGLIST. @seneon @moomv @mochuchi @soleelia @nanaminis @little-miss-chaoss @krushedstars

#୨୧ [ till death do us part ]#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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risuola · 12 hours

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ENTRY #5 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU

My eyes are glossed, And my heartbeat skips, I crave, I am lost In the nectar of your lips.

cw: arranged marriage!au, fluff — 2,0k words

a/n: you welcomed the series so warmly and lovely, that I made this part longer. it's sickly sweet, it's fluffy — enjoy!

series masterlist

“What the hell am I doing–“

You groaned. Again and again. Sighing and throwing your hands into the air, helpless and hopeless. Resignation crawling up your skin, threatening to fight and win with your stubbornness and determination. You felt the characteristics you proud yourself with falter and peel away along with your pride and dignity and you found it ironic — pathetic — that years of harsh trainings, of bloody torture you endured, years of fights and pain did nothing to break you and now you’re losing your mind over a goddamn mochi.

Mochi.

A dessert made of rice dough, sweet and objectively adorable with its round shape and sugary filling. If someone asked you how much time you spent in the kitchen already, heating up the glutinous rice flour, mixing and kneading the dough, you wouldn’t know. Hours, most likely. Fighting a battle that you weren’t ready for, mixing ingredients, adding water, whisking, and then kneading again, burning your fingers and pads of your palms more times than you’d ever admit. And you hated it. Hated the corn starch that dusted all around the place, the sticky mass of heated rice flour that you tried to get just right and above all, you hated how much time it took you before it finally started to look like something you can work with.

“There we go,” you mumbled, kneading and stretching the dough between your hands and the marble countertop. There was a reason you were a fighter, not a cook and the current state of your kitchen made enough of a proof. Mochi now, cleaning later.

The fillings were delicious, you had to pat yourself on the back. You were very lucky today to grab the sweetest strawberries you ever ate. They tasted like summer, like hot, tropical heaven and you fought with yourself before you ate them all. The cream you whipped turned out just perfectly thick and fluffy. Then the green edamame paste — your husband’s favorite — came out just as good. Decadent almost, smooth and sweet, with perfect, bright green color and texture of a cloud. Half of your cream you mixed up with melted chocolate and while happy with the insides, you were still a little concerned about the dough.

You’re not gonna be defeated by a rice dough.

You managed to roll out the mass very thinly, perfectly, and began forming mochi, which turned out to be much easier to do than you anticipated.

Take the dough.

Scoop on the filling.

Close the dough.

Roll.

Repeat.

You filled up a tray, all of the balls prettily displayed on top of a parchment paper and you took it upon yourself to have a taste of each one. Delicious. Absolutely mind-blowing.

To the fridge they go.

Now clean.

* * *

Satoru got home around 7 pm — typical, if nothing comes up or hold him at work. His job as a teacher, you learned it quickly, was repetitive, predictable. He’s out the door just shy of 10 am and back near the evening, before the soft pinks and oranges of the summer turn into nightly blues and greys and you grew to appreciate the routine that settled into your lives. Spending most of the days separately made the first weeks of marriage much more bearable. It gave you and him enough time to get used to the new situation and cool off after many fights you had. But that was about to change and you were meaning to tell him today, sweetening the deal with mochi.

Oh right, mochi!

It got you a little too excited for Satoru to ignore, you looked a little brighter than usually, nervous even and he found it concerningly amusing. You’re rarely happy to see him back, he’s more used to see you ignore him than to greet him, and even if so – you’d usually pass him with a hi or an attempt of a small talk that he hated. Gojo couldn’t tell what was it that made you so much more vibrant that evening, you looked thrilled, your eyes glimmered in the dim lights of the house. You almost looked… happy? To see him? No, that couldn’t be it.

“Did something happen today? You look oddly excited,” he spoke, following his usual routine of taking off his uniform jacket and putting it neatly on a hanger in the hallway, folding his blindfold in half to have it ready in the morning and washing his hands and face. The soft, dry towel soaked up the excess wetness from his skin as he patted it away, pointing his ocean-blue eyes toward you expectantly.

“Well, yes, kind of,” you replied and dropped onto the soft cushions of the sofa in the living room. You twisted your body slightly and looked at him, and he got the hint because few seconds later, he sat down next to you. “Two things. First, I got an offer to work as a teacher in your school. Yaga contacted me–“

“You are the new teacher for the second years?” Satoru cut you and you couldn’t read him. A slight surprise was all you could decipher from the expression of his features.

“Yes. Well, not yet,” you sighed, “before I agree I wanted to ask you what you think.”

“And you’ll do as I say? Since when you’re doing as you’re told?” He teased and for a moment you considered eating all the mochi yourself. Maybe tying him to the chair and devouring it right in front of his eyes? You opened your mouth to say something rather unpleasant before he spoke again. “If you’re asking me for permission, we both know you don’t need it. I’m sure kids will benefit from having you to lead them.”

“Are you willing to be civil with me if we spend more time along each other during the day? Last thing I need is to argue with you more than we already do.”

“We don’t argue that much lately,” he protested and you huffed out a chuckle, nodding in agreement. You didn’t fight at all, if you think about it. It seemed as if slowly you were getting used to… everything.

“So, you’re fine with the idea?”

“I’m fine with the idea, yes,” he said, running a hand through his white, slightly damp hair and brushing it back. You took in his features, allowing yourself to just stare at the man you married, because even if wedded, you see him no more than his students are. He still sleeps on the couch; he still spends most of his time outside. “You’re staring.”

“Why would I–“

“I am,” you confirmed, shamelessly and it made him chuckle. “Talking about staring, close your eyes.”

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” you ordered, getting up from the comfortable seat you were sunken into. “Please?”

“I’m honestly concerned,” he said but reluctantly lowered his eyelids. As if it made him any less aware of his surroundings. “What are you planning?”

“Don’t peek.”

Quickly, you padded into the kitchen and uncovered the mochi you kept out of the fridge for about ten minutes now. You took the tray and a glass of water and got back to where Satoru was situated. With his eyes closed, comfortable against the cushions. He felt your weight sinking onto the pillows next to him and a hint of something sweet in the air.

“Open up,” your voice made him hum, still uncertain but curious nonetheless. ‘Open up’ was such a foreign command for him to follow and the small amount of trust that was secure between you and him had to suffice for him to comply. “There we go,” you almost whispered and Satoru slightly flinched at the first contact of his mouth with, what felt like, a blob of cold unknown substance. For a reason he couldn’t really rationalize, he grabbed onto your waist to balance himself, even if there was nothing to throw him off.

Slowly, with caution, Gojo closed his mouth, allowing his teeth to meet the dough, go through it. Mochi. He recognized the sweet taste of his very favorite treat immediately but something about what was just melting against his tongue felt different to what he’s used to. The rice envelope was softer but chewy, sweetened just perfectly and the paste inside — green bean — had a texture of silk and butter, a luscious heaven itself. He felt it spreading along his taste buds, warming against the insides of his cheeks. A perfect mixture of fluffy inside and glutinous outside. So sweet, so delicious.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered. A sound so foreign, that it almost surprised you if not for the very vibrant wash of pleasure that relaxed his features. Just as the mochi melted in his mouth, he melted against the couch.

“Was it good?” You asked, while the answer was relatively clear from what you had a chance to witness. “I made them for you and they are not perfect yet but–“

“You made this mochi for me?”

Satoru’s bright blue eyes snapped open and his grip on your waist tightened. A shock pushed to the front of his expression, he blinked — once, twice — before you nodded slowly. Then he followed the direction of your gaze; his own landing on the tray full neat rows of plump rice balls, so perfectly imperfect against the dark wood below them. He could tell some had a green undertone, the edamame filling, and some were looking white and plain. Next row seemed to have chocolate inside and he could catch the hint of it in the air.

“You made all of this? With your hands?”

“From scratch, yeah,” you nodded, reaching for another one. “Chocolate.”

Being fed by you — his wife — felt odd, unfamiliar, and yet the subtle brush of your fingers against his lips whenever you gently pushed the doughy ball into his open mouth felt just right. Satoru thought he could get used to it, and the mochi.

“So you’re not only a good cook,” you’re not, but you hummed. “But also you can make mochi? If we weren’t already married, I would have asked you to marry me now.”

“That easy, huh?”

“That easy.”

You shook your head, visibly suppressing a giggle and Gojo hoped you wouldn’t hold it. It’s only now that he’s learning how pretty is your smile, how your eyes crinkle every time you allow your face to relax and take on a pattern of joy. He likes the shape your lips form, how they stretch whenever you’re happy and how your brows lift up just slightly above your half-closed lids. He wished you’d let yourself burst out laughing, but instead you shook your head yet again and let out a sigh of content. Good enough.

You reached onto the tray again. This time it was the white blob of doughy goodness hanging heavy between your dainty fingers. “This one is my favorite.”

There was no need to tell him twice. Satoru opened his mouth, eager for the sweetness you called your favorite although from your words he had a suspicion what was inside. Strawberries. You love strawberries. He learned that during the wedding celebration, when you eyed the fruit on his piece of the cake with the most adorable envy he’s ever seen – and then, those very same eyes glittered with pleasure when he exchanged his plate with yours. He remembers how you left the red, plump strawberry for the last bite, how you sighed with content as you bit into the juicy flesh of the fruit, how you nearly purred despite the stressful predicament you were placed into.

“Divine,” Gojo purred himself, as the flavors mixed in his mouth. The crisp, fresh strawberry, along the velvety cream and chewy dough made for an experience he could only compare to orgasm.

He wanted more.

Craved more and he blames it on you that the moment you sunk your teeth into the sweet treat, he leaned closer. His mind went blank when he wrapped his own mouth around the half mochi that sticked out, his lips brushed against yours. A drop of red juice run down his chin, wet and sticky against his skin. He didn’t care. Greedy for more, for you, he leaned in even more, tempted by the sweet taste of your sugar-powdered lips flush to his own.

You gasped. Purred. In surprise, in pleasure, or both.

The feeling unfamiliar, addicting, syrupy.

You should stop it.

You wanted more.

He should stop it.

He wanted more.

It was slow, sloppy and nothing but strawberry and cream.

taglist: @kinny-away , @anan-baban , @lotomber , @netflix-imagines , @kawliflo , @nishloves , @ghostfacefricker6969 , @thejujvtsupost , @yozora7154 , @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost , @ae-mius , @ropickle , @chokesonspit

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lukesaprince · 8 hours

Text

Rich Part 21

Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. The truth is revealed and extenuating circumstances lead to y/n spilling the beans about her and Harry.

Warning: HELLA SMUT!! Daddy!kink, oral (f receiving), dirty talk (degradation and praise ofc), spanking, spitting kink, creampie, mentions of death (specifically a child) and grieving, poor mental health.

Word count: 17k+

Author's note: I recommend reading Part 20 before this one as it's a direct continuation! Part 22 already has 7k words written so I PROMISE you won't have to wait a month to read more of my babies. Enjoy 😚😚

- Find Series Masterlist Here -

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“Please… Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

His mouth slotted with yours like the final puzzle piece. Smooth and effortless, melting into you while his hand moved from your neck to grab onto your hair. He was simultaneously protecting your head from the door and tugging right at the root of your pretty hair.

The sting had you whimpering into his mouth, hands through his hair and over his chest and just everywhere while you reached up on your tippy toes to kiss back harder. You quite liked feeling smaller than him and Harry loved being bigger than you. Taller than you. Pressing his full body weight into you until all you could feel was him.

“I don’t… I don’t have much time.” You murmured into his mouth, gasping as the kiss broke and he let his mouth skirt over your jaw. You always did have a sensitive neck. It was a sweet spot for you and Harry knew that. At this point he had memorised all your erogenous zones and the little things he did that turned you on and considered himself an expert in how to take advantage of it.

He was always learning new things about you. Every day he found new details about you and fell deeper in love because of it.

“You do.” His smirk curled against your jaw and focused one hand on your hair to tug your head back while the other squeezed over your waist.

“I really don’t. My parents will see my car and wonder where I am. They’d be offended I saw you before them.”

“I think they’d be a little more than offended if they knew what you were doing here. Wouldn’t they, darling?”

Your gasp got caught in your throat, muffled by a moan when he bared his teeth against your neck. His mouth cushioned lower, tracing over what felt like every single inch of your bare skin.

“Probably.” You just hummed in response, letting your eyes flutter closed while you relaxed into the feeling of his soft, wet tongue over your neck.

“What would they say if they knew you called me Daddy, hm? Bet your mother would faint, wouldn’t she? Her darling little y/n.” Harry pulled away so you could watch the way his lips wrapped around each syllable. He pressed his hand over your throat again, keeping you pinned there as he undid the bow of your sweatpants. “Come on, baby. Tell me what she’d say.”

You didn’t think he’d want a response to that when it sounded so rhetorical. More like a tease than something he wanted you to respond back to.

“I don’t know. I don’t even want to-” the words got stuck in your throat when you felt his nimble fingers slide along the waistband of your sweatpants. He smirked at your reaction, scanning every inch of your face while languidly stroking your lower belly. “-to think about it. It's mortifying.”

His eye contact was making you want to pass the fuck out and when his fingers found the band of your underwear you nearly did. You had missed this. The cat and mouse game. The teasing. Though it usually took a lot longer than the time you had.

“It’s not mortifying when you’re doing it, though. Is it, baby?” He cocked his head, maintaining eye contact as he started to trace over your underwear down towards your clit. You shook your head quickly, grabbing onto his forearms.

“Words.” He warned.

“No. No it isn’t.”

“Feels quite… good. Doesn’t it?” He pressed right over your clit, rubbing purposed circles. The friction of your underwear was driving you crazy. But you wanted more and you were a little conscious of the time.

“You know it does.”

“I know.” He smirked, leaning in to kiss your neck again. “I make you feel good. Don’t I?”

The questions were making your head spin. “Yes… yes.”

The friction suddenly disappeared from your clit, but just as you were about to make a noise of disdain, his hands were hoisting your legs up around his waist and he was carrying you through the house to his dining room. He set you down on the edge of the table, reaching in to kiss you deeply just long enough to have you gasping and tugging at his hair.

The kiss broke and his mouth trailed down your neck again. You made a pretty little whimpering sound that had Harry smirking against your skin while he worked on removing your pants properly.

“I love when you do that…” he groaned, nimble fingers sliding along the waistband of your sweats, tucking into them and your underwear at the same time before very easily pulling them down under your ass until they fell to your ankles. The cool air hit your clit instantly, sending a chill down your spine and the tension of your legs that only increased when Harry continued to talk dirty to you. “When you whimper all pretty for me… ‘s my favourite thing in the world. Never takes long either. Could just kiss you and you’d moan for me. Isn’t that right?”

His question hung heavy in the hair but all you could focus on was the sight of him dropping to his knees before you to help guide your feet out of the bottom half of your clothing.

“Uhuh.” You agreed haphazardly, sweeping your hand through his hair at the first touch of his lips against your knee. He kissed down your calf until that ankle was out of your pants then switched sides to do the other, this time kissing up from your ankle to your knee to the sensitive skin of your thigh.

“Why don’t I give you something proper to moan about, hm? Would you like that, pretty girl?” Harry let his lips brush against your skin while his hands ran up and down your legs, running his thumbs over your knees like he was about to pry your legs open and dive right in.

Every touch had you breathing heavier, already getting worked up just from a few little kisses. It didn’t help that you were already on edge from his earlier teasing and knowing that things would get a little rougher than usual only made you needier.

Sex always was a bit rougher when ‘daddy’ came into play. Harry took on the role in full force and took full control of the scene. He usually spanked you more, grabbed you more, fucked you harder. Fuck… you hoped he’d spit in your mouth too, maybe smack his ringed fingers over your clit. You could ask for it of course and he’d happily oblige (with a bit of teasing and degradation to accompany your request of course), but it was so much hotter when he just did it. When he owned you and treated you like a hole to use.

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, tugging his hair a little harder. He smirked and nipped at your thigh, grabbing your calves to pull you forward until your legs widened to fit him between them. Grabbing your face suddenly, he squeezed your cheeks roughly until you whined in pain.

“Where are your manners, huh? I thought I taught you better than that.” He tutted, maintaining eye contact while he spit suddenly on the fingers on his other hand before reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Harry didn’t want to stop looking at your pretty eyes for a single second. The moment he found your clit he tapped against it roughly, making your back arch at the repeated sting of his fingers. His saliva only made it hurt more and yet you found yourself loving every second of it.

“Shit.” You cursed, clutching onto his shoulders. The sting had your toes curling, knees dug into either side of his hips in an attempt to curb the ache. “Shit.”

“If you’re a good girl, y/n, you’ll get treated nicely. Don’t you know what happens if you’re not, hm?” He smirked, pressing his palm to your clit while sliding two fingers down through your labia. You were soaked, already dripping for him to do something. Anything. He circled his fingers over your entrance, pressing just enough to make that delicious whimper echo around his kitchen before he dragged them back up to your clit. “Or has it been that long since I put your attitude in check?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Harry repeated the same movements, torturously dragging up and down… up and down from your clit to your entrance without doing anything remotely close to satisfying.

“‘M sorry. I’m sorry Daddy. I got… fuck” you cursed when he nudged over your clit again. It was just a game now, a sadistic little game to see how wet he could get you without actually giving much pleasure. “Excited.”

“Excited? Or selfish?” He cocked his head, grinding his palm to your clit while squeezing your face a little harder. “Being needy doesn’t give you an excuse to be ill mannered.”

“You’re right. I’m-I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. I promise.” The words came out as a hushed whimper of strung together desperation. Harry was loving every second of it.

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes. Please, Daddy.”

“Gonna let me do anything I want?”

“Anything. Anything.”

His cock stirred at the thought of being able to do anything to you. To have complete control over you. Of course, you truly had the power in the situation, but he loved that you chose to let him take the reigns.

“Open your mouth.”

Harry slid his hand down to your jaw to give you space to move your mouth and as soon as you did, your lips parted just wide enough for him to spit right on your tongue. The sight was obscene. Your tongue sticking out to catch his saliva, his mark, his ownership. Your eyes were all glazed and pretty and you looked happy to take whatever he gave you. You were happy.

He just couldn’t help himself, really. Couldn’t stop himself from getting a taste of your pretty mouth. It would’ve felt wrong not. You were his girl after all. His love. Kissing you was part of the job.

Harry was quick to dart out and clasp his lips with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth so he could rub his saliva over your tongue with his own. It was feral. Sloppy in the best way possible. He slid his tongue against yours, spreading his spit and the new saliva from your kiss everywhere.

You loved when he kissed you sloppy. When it was way too inappropriate for outside eyes. Something just for you. While his tongue told you exactly how he felt about you, he grabbed onto your hips and pulled you forward until you slid off the table, landing on your unsteady feet.

“Take this off, yeah? Let me see how pretty you are.” He murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to speak while tugging upwards at the end of your t shirt.

You quickly obeyed and ripped your t shirt off, letting it land on the floor without care. You didn’t bother putting a bra on when you left Lucy’s, not when you were just going home and seeing Harry quickly - or at least you thought it would be quick - so you were left bare. Now you were grateful that you decided to do that, especially from the dark-eyed reaction you gained from your bare breasts being exposed to your lover.

“Fuck baby. Got the prettiest tits ever.” Harry cursed, palming over your exposed breasts while he connected your mouths again.

Your hands found home in his hair, reciprocating happily to his enthusiastic kissing. It was such a power imbalance being completely naked while he was still fully clothed. The anxious part of you hated it and felt so… small. Exposed. The bigger part of you, the one that got off on being submissive and degraded frothed over it. There was no feeling like his fully clothed body against your fully bare one, other than skin to skin contact of course.

That was your favourite.

“Driving me fucking crazy like this.” Harry murmured again, keeping one hand on your breast while the other trailed upwards to the little pearl necklace permanently fixtured on your neck. You only took it off to shower, otherwise it never left your body. You couldn’t bare to part from it because it was a constant reminder of Harry. Like he was always with you.

And you happened to love how possessive he became when his eyes landed on the little string of pearls. How they darkened ever so slightly. When you were in public it turned into a kiss or his hand squeezing your hand or waist, like it triggered some obsessive reaction. You weren’t sure if he caught onto the fact that the necklace somehow pavloved physical touch, but you did.

Sometimes you liked to draw attention to it on purpose to tease him, not that he knew he was being teased. When you were talking you might brush your hair away from your neck or fiddle with the pearls to draw his eyes there. It was fun. A game you were winning even if he didn’t know he was participating.

“And this…” He hooked his finger into the necklace, tugging it gently while simultaneously tugging at your bottom lip, releasing it with a pop. “You’ve got no idea how sexy you look with nothing on but this.”

“I never take it off…” You sighed.

“I know. I love you more for it.” He mused, nipping on your neck. “If that’s even possible.” Your head lulled back when he ran his hands down over your body again, landing on your hips where he quickly spun you around to face the table and pressed himself against you. “Love how soft you are too…” He complimented, pressing spongey kisses along your shoulder.

You braced yourself against the table, letting yourself be pushed down flat against it by a gentle hand on the middle of your back.

“How you feel in my hands… my mouth…”

His mouth replaced his hand, trailing down until he was crouched behind you. God the sight of you was driving him crazy.

Running his hands over your ass, he pressed a kiss to one of your cheeks, dragging his bottom lip against your skin as he released before kissing over to your other cheek. Then he spread you wide, eliciting a gasp when he spanked you and groaned at the way your skin rippled then spread you open again.

“My tongue…”

And then you felt it. His hot tongue met your clit, swiping through your labia right to your tight ring of muscles where he decided to focus his attention. Harry was aware you two didn’t have all the time in the world, but he just couldn’t compromise on his favourite thing. Tasting you.

Your flavour, your scent, how wet you got. Like silky honey dripping down his throat and coating his lips. He was obsessed with it. Which is why he let himself a few moments of flicking his tongue against your ass before he moved down to one of his favourite parts of you. That pretty little clit.

Your moans were like music to his ears. An array of whimpers and whines, pleaded whispers of his name and his honorific. There was nothing like hearing the moan of his name, even moreso when he was being your ‘Daddy’. You were much more pliant, more responsive. He wasn’t sure if it was your submission kicking in more than usual or because your kink was being stroked the entire time.

Either way, he was reaping the benefits.

You were so hot and sweet and were wiggling like a fucking worm in his grip. He had to hold onto your hips harder to keep you still, but that didn’t stop your clenching and trembling when he sucked particularly hard on your clit or fucked his tongue inside you.

So fucking responsive.

“God, you taste so fucking sweet, baby. My favourite meal in the world.” He praised, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking a little rougher than usual just so you’d cry out for him.

“Please. Please.” You begged, forehead pressed against the table.

“What?” Harry mused, sliding his tongue toward your entrance and pressing it there. You clenched on impact and he could feel it at the tip of his tongue. All he could think about now was getting inside you. God, he was so hard. So painfully hard.

“Need you. Please, Daddy. Need your cock so bad.” You begged clearly this time, needing to be filled more than anything.

“Yeah? Need it bad, do you?” Harry stood up, kissing your cheek on the way up before he was ridding himself of his clothing. He was already hot and worked up and he knew that the moment his cock touched you he’d be sweating all over. Besides… he wanted to feel you. He wanted to press his chest into your back and feel your thighs against his.

He craved the intimacy of skin to skin like nothing else.

“Yes. Fuck. Yes.” You sighed, nearly screaming in relief when you felt the tip of his cock bump against your clit.

“I’ll give it to you baby…” He soothed, dragging his tip through your folds to collect your wetness over his cock. “I’ve got you…” His tip pressed against your entrance and you swore you could’ve cried when he slowly pushed in. “Shit.”

“Fuck.”

He stretched you slowly, torturously, like he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock. Every vein and ridge and the way he got slowly wider at the base. It wasn’t something you’d feel when he was fucking you roughly, but God it was all you could feel now. The stretch, the ache, the way your knees buckled when his hand pressed into your lower back to keep you still.

And then the slow, tortuous teasing ended and without any warning he drew his hips back and slammed back into you in a way that had your lungs losing all their breath. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers dug tightly so there was this constant ache that seemed to reach its way straight to your soul.

And you fucking loved it. Every bruising thrust, every snapping sound, the way Harry moaned and cursed, telling you exactly how much he liked it. He never was shy from making sounds of pleasure and it was one of the things that made sex with him so hot.

“You’re so tight. Shit, baby. Always so fucking tight around me.”

“Oh God. Harry!”

“Wrong name, sweetheart.” He reprimanded with a heavy spank on your ass, the snapping sound echoing throughout the room. “Say the right one. Say it.”

“Daddy.” You moaned pathetically, earning another spank right on the other cheek. The sting was the most satisfying sort of burn, a pain that lingered and ached but only made everything so much better. It fuelled your pleasure, contributing to the orgasm you had been waiting for twice now.

It didn’t take long to reach it. Not when he had already teased you with his mouth and fingers and now was fucking you so damn good you could barely breathe. Harry didn’t stop once you rode through your orgasm, no, he took it as an opportunity to give you barely ten seconds of rest and flip you around so you were lying flat on the table. He was nestled back in you before you knew it, in a single fluid thrust that had you crying out from sheer sensitivity.

He didn’t seem to care, or he did but just liked to see the way the tears streamed down your face. And you were okay. He knew you were okay because he checked in with you in that ten seconds of rest, making sure you were green before he flipped you over to fuck you how he wanted.

And fuck. This was how he wanted you.

“You just take it so fucking well, don’t you sweetheart? Always squeeze around my cock so tight.” Harry uttered through gritted teeth, fingers achingly squeezed into your cheeks while his eyes remained glued to where you two were connected.

Harry always loved fucking you from behind. The heart shape of your ass, the way he could see all your pretty holes and how you clenched around him, the way he could get his cock inside you deeper than other positions… how he could grab your hips and fuck you hard, bruising your insides and out. He liked being able to spank your pretty ass and thumb at your tight ring of muscles and he especially liked spreading your cheeks and burying his face between them.

But nothing compared to watching your face. The way your eyes would roll back into your head, how they’d flutter and close when something felt especially good. The scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow and the way your mouth would part in a whimper when something hurt a little too good. The way your jaw would clench and slack and how dazed your eyes got when he wrapped his hand around your throat.

He loved watching the effect he had on you. Your face showed him how good he was making you feel in a way your body didn’t and it became a little game to him on how to get you to make certain facial expressions.

Mostly though… he liked watching your eyes gloss over the harder he fucked you, the meaner he was. He loved to watch you slip into an ultimate state of submission and pleasure.

“Daddy…” You moaned, unable to come up with anything in reply to him. You were already too far gone.

“I know.” He sympathised. “Shit baby, you feel so fucking good. So good. Got the best pussy, you do.”

There was nothing like having a man moan for you. When they whimpered for you, praised you.

“Love your cock.” The words tumbled out without real thought, “feels so good. Always need it so bad.”

Shit. You didn’t talk dirty very often, not that Harry minded. He liked to watch your reactions when he uttered total filth. But Jesus… when you said anything remotely sexual like that, that you loved his cock? For a moment he feared he was going to prematurely cum before he made you finish for the second time.

“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby, but you’re gonna need to stop if you want me to keep fucking you.”

You let out a choked laugh at his words, loving how one small compliment had him stilling for a second to collect himself. You clenched on purpose, gasping with a smile when he pinched your cheeks a little harder.

“Spit in my mouth.”

Now you were just fucking with him. Through the haze of your pussy being completely destroyed by him, you still managed to tease him and be a fucking brat.

“God, you’re fucking filthy today.” He gritted, cocking his head while sliding his hand down your jaw to the top of your throat so he could tuck his thumb into your mouth. “Open up.”

Your lips parted instantly, earning a pleased ‘good girl’ in return that had you happy as anything. “Stick your tongue out.” Again, you followed his instruction instantly, whimpering when his fingers dug into the sides of your neck with purpose. “That’s it. Good girl.”

It all happened so fast. The praise. The hammering of his hips against yours. The woozy pleasure feeling clouding your brain like a drug. All of it. And then it happened. Harry collected the saliva in his mouth and spat it all over your tongue, watching with sick satisfaction as your saliva slid down to the back of your throat. He groaned loudly and leaned in to kiss you fiercely, picking up the pace against your hips in a way that had tears trailing down your face.

It was so good. So so fucking good. It felt like your whole body was on fire. Every square of your body was pressed against his and when he fucked you particularly hard, the dining table scraped across his gorgeous wooden flooring. Harry didn’t give two fucks about his scratched floors, if anything he liked the thought of always looking at a constant reminder that you were his.

“Can’t believe what a little slut you’re being tonight.” He grinned, palming over your breast and pinching your nipple until you cried out and arched against him. “You fucking love my spit, don’t you? That’s why you asked for it. Because you love being my filthy little slut.”

Filthy little slut. God you loved when he was a little mean to you. A lot mean sometimes too.

“Uhuh. Love it so much.” You nodded enthusiastically, well, as enthusiastically as you could after an orgasm and his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your throat.

“Yeah? Take some more than. Since you want it so fucking bad.” He spat into your mouth again, using two fingers to roughly spread it over your tongue. He pushed them back, laughing when you suddenly gagged around his fingertips. “Aw, poor baby can’t even handle my fingers, hm? How do you manage my cock then if you can’t even take two fingers down your throat?”

He grabbed your neck this time and pushed you back until you were lying down on the table before grabbing your ankles to hike them on your shoulder.

Yeah… a lot mean was fucking hot.

“Harry.” You protested, covering your face with both hands.

Your whole body was heating up from how mean he was being. Maybe even a little shy at how much you liked it. It shouldn’t have been a surprise anymore that you liked it, not when you two had so much practice with it. Yet you still found yourself getting nervous when he looked at you a certain way or said a certain thing. You rather liked it like that. You never wanted to lose the butterflies. The romance. The big pile of mush you turned into when he degraded you and used you.

“Don’t start being shy now, Angel. You know you like it.” He smirked, reaching forward to grab your hands from your face. He interlaced your fingers, drawing your hands down to rest on your belly so he could look at you. “Wanna look at you, baby. You’ve got the prettiest face. Look so gorgeous like this.”

Every word seemed to be egging you on, drawing you closer to the inevitable ecstasy that would flood through your core. The angle was so intense, so deep you knew that if he pressed on your belly, his cock would press through.

“Oh god. I’m… shit. I’m so close.” You moaned, squeezing his hands and digging your heels into his shoulders.

“Give it to me, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“My… my clit.”

Harry kept one hand intertwined with yours while the other moved down to your clit. He rubbed purposed circles over your bundle of nerves, delivering such perfect pressure it barely took a murmured ‘I love you’ for that wave of white hot pleasure to rush over you. His thrusts stilled at the feeling of you clenching around him and he was quick to widen your legs and fold over you so he could lazily slot your lips together.

With a curse and a pretty whimper into your mouth that had your head spinning, Harry thrust once, twice, three final times until you felt his hot cum fill you up. His body was so heavy over yours, your sticky bodies pressed and joined together. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, wanting to keep him as close as possible to you.

“God, that was so good.” He murmured, tucking his forehead into the crook of your neck.

“Agreed. I’ve missed that” you whispered, panting slightly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Me too. Fuck.” He propped himself up over you, pushing your hair back from your face. “Are you okay?”

You smiled and let out a small laugh, tipping your head up so you could kiss him. “I’m more than okay. Two orgasms equals a happy girl.”

“And what does three make you?” He grinned.

“An even happier girl, possibly a tired girl.” You smiled, reaching your arms above your head to arch your back in a stretch. He shook his head and stood back straight, scanning his eyes over the light sheen of sweat on your pretty skin.

“And you’re not tired now?” Harry raised his brow, looking down at your pussy to watch himself pull out. He did so slowly, careful not to hurt you and was completely mesmerised by the trail of cum that followed his cock.

“Fuck.” You whispered, feeling an ache when he fully pulled out of you. “Of course I’m tired. A little sore too. I think I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

“Mh. Me too. Wish we could sleep together.” He replied, eyes glued to his cum slowly dripping out of you. “I don't think I’ll ever get over how hot it is to see you like this.”

“Mmh.” You agreed, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at his cock covered in your cream. “I always thought creampies were overrated before you. Now… I love it.” Your eyes flickered back to Harry, who was already looking right at you with this dark look that made you want to climb all over him again. “I like feeling it later… even if it’s a little gross to sit in cold cum.”

Harry scrunched his nose up at that, “You could’ve made that so much sexier, y/n. Now when you go home I’ll be thinking of stale cum.”

“I didn’t call it stale! I said ‘cold’.”

“Like that’s any better?” He laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ll grab you some water and a towel, okay? Stay here.”

“Like I’d go anywhere, I’ll drip stale cum all over your floor.” You shot back as he was already walking into his kitchen. You loved his ass. It was just so cute half the time you had this temptation to just whack it but you knew he’d hate it and probably retaliate ten times worse.

There was something so sexy about him walking around stark naked without a care in the world. He had such confidence in his body and himself that he really didn’t care. You weren’t as confident as he was in that department but being with him had definitely made you more confident in your skin.

“It’s already on my table, y/n. The floor won’t make much difference.”

You clenched up immediately at that comment, trying to stop more of his cum from dripping out of you. “Yeah… we’ve got to sanitise this. We eat here.” You scrunched your nose and sat up to look at the spot between your legs, finding his cum already dripped onto the table.

“Baby I’d sanitise the entire house if it meant I got to fuck you anywhere and everywhere.” He smirked, coming back with a big glass of water and a damp tea towel. He had already cleaned himself up and was quick to crouch down before you to clean you up as well. You didn’t get very nervous about the cleanup anymore. Harry had wiped you clean and taken care of you dozens of times.

“Thank you.” You smiled, grabbing the glass from where he had put it on the table beside you. “Your bed’s next. When we have more time.”

“I still can’t believe we haven’t christened my bed yet. It feels wrong.” He murmured, watching you

shakily bring the glass to your lips while he grabbed your underwear from the pile of clothes on the floor and dragged them up your legs.

“I know. I’ve missed your bed. It’s a lot comfier than mine, more space too.” You had this little mischievous grin playing on your lips, one that Harry found incredibly sexy.

You were still breathing a little heavily and managed to finish half the glass by the time you lifted your hips and Harry adjusted your underwear back in place. You attempted to set the glass down on the table beside you but before you could, he stood up and stopped you with a finger pushing the cup up towards you.

“Ah. All of it.” He tutted, looking at you expectedly until you brought the cup up to your mouth again. He maintained eye contact with you, one hand rubbing over your bare thigh while he kept a single finger underneath your glass. It was firm enough to tell you to keep drinking, but not enough so you wouldn’t be able to move the glass on your own. “Good girl… that’s it, drink all of it. Atta girl.”

You loved being fucked rough and dirty and since you two decided not to use condoms, your favourite thing was being pumped full of his cum, even more so when he degraded you when it happened. Like he just did barely two minutes ago. But there was something even better about the aftercare. His sweet tone, his commanding and caring nature as he got you water and a snack. All of it.

And the praise. Somehow it was so much sexier when you two were post-sex, even more so when it was casual. A nonchalant ‘good girl’ when you did something he asked or a loving ‘I’m so proud of you’ when you got a good grade or finished an assignment. His atta girl at finishing your water nearly made you drop to your shaky knees and get him nice and hard again with your mouth.

He said the words like they were nothing then moved on, not really caring that you were like a frozen deer at the first sign of praise. “I happen to like your bed. It’s cosy.”

“Yeah…” you breathed, “cosy and next to a thin wall where even adjusting in my bed can be heard by next door.”

“You don’t think they’d like hearing you call me ‘Daddy’?” He grinned, putting his sweatpants on and grabbing your t shirt to help put that on you too. You’ll definitely have to shower the second you walk into your house. There’s just no way you don’t smell like a sex club.

“No, I don’t think so.” You finished the very last sip of your water, making sure there wasn’t a single drop left in the glass. Once it was all gone, Harry grabbed it from you and placed it down on the table out of the way, tipping your head up with a gentle finger under your chin while his thumb rubbed over the leftover wetness around your mouth from your drink.

“Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his thumb.

Harry smiled softly and guided your mouth to his for a single, deep, core-clenching kiss. It felt like a kiss that was promising so much more and even though you just had your fill, literally, it didn’t make you any less insatiable for him. There was just something about Harry dominating… truly dominating that turned you into a horny little rabbit.

You wouldn’t be surprised if Harry called you that one day. It felt like the less you saw each other, the more insatiable you became. With the last couple of weeks being so busy, each time you’ve seen each other had been takeaway or a quick dinner and quick - but good - sex. You didn’t have proper time together and while fucking until the morning sounded and felt like a good idea in the moment, when you both woke up and Harry had his long commute to work or you had a day full of classes it became a regret.

Well, not a regret per se. You’d never regret sleeping with him. Ever. But you both complained about being tired the entire day to each other. More you than him since you loved to complain about everything and now Harry was fortunate enough to be the one to hear it all. It was worth it, but it was hard.

You couldn’t take every weekend, or even every second weekend off work to spend time with Harry because you needed money and he couldn’t ‘work from home’ to spend time with you. Driving so much took it out of both of you too so it was always easier if he stayed the night. Things would change once your parents knew and you had a bit more freedom… but you had a feeling they wouldn’t be totally happy with you spending nights with him instead of them.

And next door to top it all off.

Your anxious feelings didn’t help the situation either, but even with that little hiccup, you had missed time. Time where you two could just explore each other's bodies and try new things, go multiple rounds without the stress of your responsibilities. You had that before you two started dating so you knew that the changes to your sex life were mostly your fault. Or because of your situation.

If you lived closer things would be a lot easier. But that was also life and you two were figuring out what worked for you and now to manage it all. Ideally, once you were finished with university, maybe you two would move in with each other or at the very least you’d want to live much closer to him.

It was still so early into your relationship and you didn’t want to jump too far… but being full of his cum made your brain a little dizzy and romantic. Suddenly you were ready to forget your birth control and let him fuck a baby in you so you could be at home with him all the time. As a fantasy of course.

Which is why your post-sex horny brain took a few seconds longer to process the next words out of his mouth.

“Hey, um. I need to tell you something.” He whispered, forehead pressed against yours. He slid his hand along your cheek to cup your face, letting his fingertips comb through your hair a little.

“Hm?” you asked, brows furrowing when you read the nervous look in his eyes. Your stomach dropped suddenly and that anxious gut feeling felt more rampant than ever. “What is it?”

“I have to go back to London.”

“Oh, okay.” You were a little taken aback. Harry hadn’t mentioned any trips or work events or anything recently. The timing of it right after the phone call too felt a bit unnerving. You just hoped everything was okay. “When?”

“Just over a month.” He murmured, feeling that steady beat of anxiety claw at his throat. Harry hated that he had to ruin such a good moment, such a pleasurable, romantic experience to talk about this. He wasn’t sure how you’d react and it scared the hell out of him.

“Wow, that’s short notice.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, threading your fingers casually into his hair. “Is it… family? Or work or?”

“Family. I…” he swallowed thickly, hugging his arms around you. “It’s my sister’s birthday. Everyone’s going to be there.”

“That’s great.” You smiled, relieved that it wasn’t something horrible. That he was okay. “That’ll be such a nice trip, Harry. Did you saw them last year when you went over?”

Harry didn’t speak about them a lot. He didn’t not speak about them and when they came up he always had something to say, but it also wasn’t a topic he brought up by himself. He spoke about his travels quite often, but even that topic hadn’t come up in a while. You were a little glad actually because you didn’t really want to think about him going away for so long. The thought of him in Italy looking all gorgeous and tanned without you made you violently ill.

Harry shook his head and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about my family.”

And there it was.

“What do you mean?” You asked softly, trying not to jump to any conclusions. Whatever it was had to be deeply personal and you knew that.

After the very brief mention of his nephew passing, you two hadn’t spoken about it once. You wanted to ask but it never felt like the right time and after that phone call, the last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were pressuring him into talking.

And now to learn there was more…

“Well… you know how I told you about my nephew?” You nodded, “When he died… it was right around the time I was meant to move here. The timing was so fucked. My flight had been booked for months and it was scheduled for the week after the funeral. Everything was packed and ready to go and my job was due to start only a few days after I landed in Melbourne…”

“That must’ve been so hard, Harry. I can’t imagine having to leave everyone so close to his passing.”

“It gets worse, y/n.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “When Harry Jr died, it really fucked me up. I already wasn’t in the best mental state because of my ex, even if I thought I was fine, and I couldn’t handle it.” You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with it. It was clear he did something, but what? “Harry Jr was like my own kid. Him and Lola were everything to me but he was just… like my twin. Lola and I were close but it didn’t compare to the bond Harry and I had. Losing him was… the worst thing that has ever happened to me and as fucked as it was and still is, I couldn’t handle it.”

Harry was starting to get worked up. His words were becoming a little shaky and you could feel how tense he became. He was holding onto you so tight and yet he was avoiding looking at you. He was scared to hear how you were going to react and he was having a hard time finding the words to explain what he had done.

Practicing with Max did nothing to help. He had told people before and been faced with his actions for years so it wasn’t a new discussion to have. But telling you, the love of his life, how he betrayed and destroyed his family only to keep himself distanced because he was a coward was the hardest it had ever been.

“Everyone grieves differently, Harry. It would’ve been hard for everyone.” You tried to soothe, combing through his hair.

“I changed my flight to the day of the funeral.” He just went and said it, immediately feeling your fingers stop in his hair and how you seemed to pull your body back from his. You didn’t mean to do it, but you were a little shocked. “I spent days breaking down and feeling the most depressed I had ever been. The idea of going to that funeral and seeing the small coffin… I couldn’t do it.” He stepped back from you, running his hands through his hair. He was shaking, his throat aching with how hard he was willing away the tears. His eyes were stinging and he didn’t want to face you as he explained the rest of the story, even when you slipped off the table and whispered his name, stepping forward to place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I skipped the funeral without telling anyone and I flew here to start my new life.” He paused, swallowing thickly, “I left her, y/n. I left my only sister on the worst day of her life because I couldn’t handle it. She lost her son and I left. I left!” The words came out in an angry spit and his shoulders seemed to widen and slump forward like he was holding back immense rage. At himself. “We fought and she said she’d never forgive me again, fuck I can’t forgive myself. I don’t even want to.”

You were a little thrown off balance, to be honest. You never expected him to say any of that and to hide it from you for so long. But you couldn’t be upset either. He made a terrible mistake and you could see how badly it was eating him up. Harry was a proud person and very rarely doubted himself or his actions, yet you knew he was so ashamed in himself for what he did. It was hard to see.

“Harry…” You tried to get him to turn around with a little squeeze of his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

“My mum hated me, Gemma hated me, Andy hated me. Everyone hated me and I deserved it. I’ve skipped every Christmas since because I couldn’t face it and because I was a coward. I’m still a coward. I’ve sent letters and texts and tried to call her and I’ve never been able to see her face to face because I’m scared. I’ve never been able to push myself to that next step because I keep thinking it’s too late. That she’ll never forgive me.”

You could see how devastated he was about it and how angry he was at himself. And you understood it. He had spent nearly five years away from his family, beating himself up because of a huge mistake he made. And it was huge. You weren’t going to dispel that. You weren’t even sure that if you were in Gemma’s place, you’d ever get over something like that.

But Harry has also changed a lot. You imagined Harry Jr’s death changed him for the worse. Since the moment you met him, he always was a selfish, narcissistic person. It was never a secret that he lived his life for himself and cared about money and his job over anything else and maybe Harry Jr’s death had something to do with that. But since knowing him he’s made so many improvements to himself. He’s completely turned around to try and be an honest and good person.

The things he did for you and put himself through to protect you wouldn’t be done by just anyone. He had so much love in him and had proved that time and time again. He was attentive and caring and so generous. You were starting to think that he always was that person but was torturing himself for so long because of the mistakes he had made that it was easier to keep people at an arm's length.

After knowing him deeper though, you knew that his family meant a lot to him. He spoke to his mum at least twice a week and looked after her financially too. She was a young mum and had already been retired for nearly 10 years because of the way Harry invested his money and the success he had in all his different ventures. Being able to retire a parent when you’re barely 30 and live your own life in such an extravagant way is a massive achievement.

Which is why you were just so shocked he hadn’t visited Gemma in person yet to try and mend things. How did it take so long for him to finally make the decision to go back to the UK and mend things with her, at least you assumed that’s why he wanted to go to her birthday. You assumed the phone call with his mum had something to do with it too.

You weren’t really sure what to make of it or what to say. You loved him and were always going to love him and it hurt to know that he had been in a mental place so low and so far gone that he hurt his only sibling this badly. He was suffering with his own grief and unable to cope that badly that his sister, the mother of his nephew had to mourn the loss of her son and her brother all at the same time.

It was awful all around.

“Harry. Turn around, please.” You coaxed gently, giving his shoulder another little squeeze. He inhaled a shaky breath and slowly turned around, showing you his reddened eyes and puffy nose. “Come here.” You guided, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the couch so you two could sit and talk about it properly. He remained silent while you took his hands in yours, trying to find the right words to support him.

“What you did was wrong…” His expression seemed to fall even further, complete despair in his eyes. “But you don’t need me to tell you that.” You softened your expression, reaching up to cup his face in both hands. “You’ve been torturing yourself because of this for years and I get it. I can’t put myself in your shoes or even Gemma’s shoes because I don’t have siblings and I don’t have nieces or nephews but I understand loss and I understand family. Everyone grieves differently but the one constant in our lives is our family. I don’t think it’s too late to make up for it.”

“You don’t mean that.” He whispered, scanning your face. “Why don’t you hate me? I fucked up.”

“You did and I won’t excuse what you did. But you were in a horrible part of your life and yeah, the right thing to do was go to the funeral, but you made your choice and you’ve lived with the consequences already. You have changed and grown so much since we started dating, Harry, and I can see the difference it’s making in your life. All you can do now is try and show Gemma you’ve changed. That you’re better.”

Harry said nothing for a moment and swallowed the lump in his throat, “I’ve tried to go home to her for years and every time I get close, I see how happy they are without me and it stops me. There was one Summer I even made it to the front gate and saw Gemma and Lola through the window. They looked so happy. Lola was so big and Gemma looked at peace. I didn’t want to destroy that.”

“Don’t you think she’d be happier knowing she had her brother back?” You asked softly, dropping your hands from his face to grab his hands instead.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, “My mum has been trying to get me to go back for a long time, always trying to convince me that everyone missed me. That Gemma missed me. I never went because I was thinking about myself instead of her. It was easier for me to stay away than confront what I did. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be that person.”

He sounded so determined and he was. He always appreciated your honesty and you kept him accountable time and time again but you did it in a way that still supported him. You listened to him fully and offered support and advice. You didn’t act like he was a monster. He hoped that you felt like that on the inside too.

“Is that what the phone call was about? Her birthday?”

Harry nodded. “My mum has been hounding me about it for months. When the call happened I wasn’t ready to tell you because I was scared I’d lose you. Really fucking scared. I know it upset you, baby, and I’m so sorry.” He squeezed your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I didn’t mean to lie. I didn’t want to. I hope I haven’t lost you because I was ashamed.”

“You haven’t.” You smiled, squeezing his hands. “You haven't. I was upset at the time, but I didn’t want to press you because you’re allowed to have things that are just yours... I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.” You reached up to cup his cheek, watching the way he nuzzled into your touch, eyes fluttering closed at the comfort he felt. “I don’t think you’re that person anymore, Harry. I think Gemma would appreciate the work you’ve put into yourself to become a better person.”

“You think so?” He whispered, scanning your face with his eyes.

You nodded. “I think it’ll take time. I honestly don’t know how things will work out because I don’t know her, but I know you and I know you’ll do everything you can to fix things with her. You’re her brother, Harry.”

“I love you,” Harry murmured, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck to draw you in for a kiss. This wasn’t the end of this conversation by any means. You had questions and you hoped that he’d be a lot more open about his family now. This was such an intense, deep-rooted issue. If he wanted to talk about it more, which you hoped he did, it wouldn’t happen in one night.

The kiss deepened ever so slightly, ending with a little run of his tongue against your bottom lip while he rested his forehead against yours. ��Will you come with me?”

“What? Where? To London?” You blinked, a little surprised at his sudden request.

He nodded, tightening his hand in your hair just a little. It wasn’t to hurt you, just to feel you. “I don’t know if I can do it by myself. I want you there.”

“Harry-” you tried to interrupt, but it was like he felt your hesitation before you even said anything.

“I can show you my hometown, my house. You can meet my mum, maybe even Gemma. I just… I don’t want to leave you. I want you to come with me.”

This felt like something he needed to do by himself. It happened before he even knew you and was such an important step in his life. Family is family and it would almost feel like an intrusion to be there when he’d be sorting through so much history.

“Harry…” you sighed, leaning back. “I want nothing more than to support you but I have school. I don’t know if I can take time off and I’ve still got this trip planned at the end of the year with my friends. Money wise too… it’s a lot and it’s so soon.”

“You wouldn’t have to pay for a thing, y/n. I’d never let you do that.” His voice turned lower just a touch like he was almost reprimanding you for even suggesting he’d let you pay for a single thing. “And I think it might even align with your semester break, at least some of it anyway. Even if you flew in later and met me there? We could travel. I could take you to my house in Italy.” He was trying so hard to convince you but by the look on your face, it wasn’t working.

“It’s not just that, Harry.” You chuckled at his attempts to convince you, which actually were quite appealing. “I love you and the idea of Italy and seeing where you grew up is so… amazing but I think this is something you need to do by yourself. There is so much history there and so much you need to work through. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to go.”

“I want you to come.” He coaxed, pecking you quickly. God when he had that almost pouty look on his face and murmured so sweetly… you’d agree to anything. “You can do your own thing. You’ve always wanted to go to London. There’s so much to do and you can do whatever you want. As long as I get to see you at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Have you in my bed every night.” Now the thought of that was extremely appealing. “Just think about it. Please.”

“I’ll think about it.” You compromised, smiling softly.

“Thank you.” He kissed you again before wrapping his arms around you to draw you into his chest. Both of you knew you had to head home, but it wasn’t the right time for you to leave. You couldn’t.

You spent the next hour or so just wrapped in his arms, then him wrapped in yours. He opened up a little more about Gemma and his extended family and he already seemed so much more open to speak about them. You could tell this was something that weighed heavy on him for a long time.

Archie made his way from outside at some point too, bringing in a trail of dust and leaves that broke the tension in the room and let you and Harry distract yourselves by bathing him. He had been running a muck outside the entire time, obsessively playing with a new toy Harry bought him. He was so engrossed in it, that he didn’t even know you came over.

That was probably a good idea since you and Harry spent a lot of your time together naked. You swear Archie had PTSD from Harry’s instruction to go to his bed.

It was late by the time you peeled yourself from Harry, not wanting to leave but knowing you had to. He didn’t want you to leave either but you promised to come over before you left in the morning. He was tempted to come home with you and you had a feeling he might drive back in his own car so he could spend the night with you, or even the day before driving back in the night.

It was times like these where you hated that your parents didn’t know about him. After learning everything, maybe it was time.

“Hey, baby.” Your mum greeted, hugging you the moment you walked into your kitchen.

“Hi.” You smiled, hugging her back. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, pumpkin.” He hugged you next, kissing your forehead before returning to the pot he was stirring on the stove.

“Sorry I took forever, I was catching up with Harry then Archie ended up dragging dirt through the house so I stayed to help him clean up.” You explained, hoping she bought the excuse. There was this expression on her face that just told you she didn’t believe you, but she didn’t say anything about it so you decided to leave it and not say too much. Otherwise, she’d really know something was up if you started waffling.

“It’s nice you two have stayed so close.” There was something about the way she focused on the word ‘close’, but she had a glass of wine in hand and always liked to read into things when she got a bit tipsy. You hoped you were just being a little paranoid. “You think he’ll give you your job back over your semester break?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I might just plan my shifts at the cafe so I can be here for a couple of days then at mine for a couple of days. I don’t want to cut my shifts at the cafe completely.”

“Mh.” She agreed, “think about it. You know I like having you around.”

“I know. I like being here too.” You smiled, “I’m going to shower and get changed quickly. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright. Don’t be too long.” She called after you.

“I won’t!”

The night continued as it always did. Dinner, a glass of wine, an update on your week of uni and your night out with your friends (sans Harry, of course). Then Dad went to his office to do some quotes and your mum and you wound up on the couch watching The Real Housewives. Another couple glasses of wine was involved, but it was a Saturday night and you had nowhere to be tomorrow except home.

Perfect.

Until your mum paused the show while you got up to get a snack and when you returned, she had no plans of playing it again. She had this look on her face, like she was getting ready to announce something really big or ask you an invasive question.

It was the latter.

“Are you okay?” You asked, landing on the couch with a heavy seat. The wine slowly infused in your body, making you feel like a heavy lump of bones. You were getting to the point where one more sip of wine would knock you out and your pillow was calling your name.

“I need to ask you something.” She shifted on the couch, sitting cross legged while facing you. She still had her glass of wine in hand, eyeing it like she had a nervous tick.

“Okay…” you looked at her a little funny, taking a sip of wine.

“Are you sleeping with Harry?” At her words, your eyes widened and the wine suddenly travelled down the wrong hole. You coughed repeatedly and Mum was quick to lean forward to tap your back until your coughing subsided. “Our neighbour, Harry.”

“Thanks for the clarification, Mum, but I only know one Harry.” You coughed, rubbing the sore spot over your chest. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Just answer the question. Is it true?”

Shit. What were you even meant to do? You didn’t want to lie about it because the truth would always come out, but you also weren’t ready to talk about it. You had this whole speech planned and all these things you wanted to say when you brought it up to her and now that she was the one asking you about it, there was nothing in your head.

You felt bombarded by it. But maybe it was better to tell her first before your dad found out. At least this way you could explain everything and diffuse any worries so when he found out, your mum would be on your side. And you knew she would be. Or hopeful at best. Maybe not at first, but all she wanted was your happiness and if Harry made you happy, she’d support you with it.

Your parents had always told you that they didn’t care what you did with your life as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. They’d support you if it truly was what you wanted. When they said that they were talking about work, not dating your neighbour, but it still applied.

It would be a shock to them and you knew that, but no one was getting hurt and you were happier than you had ever been. You knew they’d understand. Eventually anyway.

“Um…” you trailed off, looking away briefly. “Yes? But we’re not sleeping together, we’re… we’re dating.” Even though you could tell she wasn’t surprised, the look of pure disappointment on her face expressed exactly how she felt. She didn’t want you to say yes. “I was going to tell you.” You jumped in again before she replied, wanting to get as much out as possible before she gave her opinion. “I swear. I wanted to tell you and Dad both at the same time so you two wouldn’t get all weird with each other if one of you knew first.”

“Oh god, y/n!” Mum pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a heavy sip of wine before continuing like it would somehow make the news easier to bear. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. I prayed that you weren’t and yet here we are.”

“You knew? How?”

“I didn’t know, but I kind of worked it out. You've been a little giddier than usual. Always looking at your phone and you’re always going over there when you come to visit. He's been different too. Less broody and secretive and he's been getting a dogsitter for Archie for a lot more overnights than usual. Mother’s know these things, y/n. So… explain. How did it start?”

Was it seriously that obvious? When she put it like that, it kind of was obvious that you were seeing someone. She wasn't particularly upset by it, but her tone wasn't overly jovial either. She was calm. Calm was good.

Though it could've been the wine making her more relaxed.

“I guess we kind of got closer as I dogsat Archie. We’d always talk for ages and we had that weekly dinner, which you knew about. Then one day… I don’t know. Things changed.” You averted eye contact, feeling a blush graze your cheeks at the memory of the first time you two slept together.

“You were sleeping together?” You nodded silently, knowing that she’d be able to tell if you were lying. “When?”

“What?”

“When was the first time?”

“Mum.” You protested, “you don’t need to know that.”

“I do, actually because now that I know it happened, I need to know when it started.”

“Yes but-”

“So when was the first time, y/n?”

You clearly weren't getting out of this one.

“...A few weeks before his birthday, I guess.”

“A few weeks before his birthday.” She repeated to herself, “so you were dogsitting for him and having dinner with him for weeks and what? You two were just sleeping together each time just like that? All those times you came home ‘late’, you were sleeping with him? Right next door? Have you slept with him here?”

“Mum, stop!” You whined, hating how she seemed to be spiralling about the fact you had sex.

Her questions were practically spitfire and if you didn't stop her now, she'd continue and her questions would get way more invasive. She always was like that when she drank. Nosy and more brazen than usual. Dad always said it was because she was pretty that she got away with the way she ran her mouth when she drank.

Mum was harmless, but God if there was even a smidge of a secret hanging around she'd find out and talk about it to anyone and everyone.

She knew you weren’t a virgin and while you didn’t share every detail of your sex life, she knew you had slept with a couple of guys. You were always open and honest with her to an extent because you valued her advice, especially when your heart got involved and you ended up getting hurt. But right now you didn’t want to hear her fears or her spiralling bout the fact you had sex next door when you knew she and Dad had sex only two rooms away from you. If it were up to her, she’d know every detail about every aspect of your life.

You understood it to an extent and you practically did share everything with her. But seriously. Boundaries.

“I love you but it’s none of your business. I don’t ask when you and dad have sex because that’s disgusting so don’t ask me!”

“Fine. Fine. You’re right.” She let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, “Just tell me you’re still on birth control and we can move on.”

“Yes. I am.”

“Good because I swear to God, y/n, if you come home pregnant...”

“Mum!”

“I had to say it, okay? It’s my job as a mother. Now continue.”

“It wasn’t serious at first and neither-” you paused to give her a warning glance when it looked like she was going to make another comment about your sex life. She only rolled her eyes and sipped her wine again, attentively listening to you talk, “neither of us wanted a relationship and I always said to you too that it didn’t interest me but he somehow managed to change my mind about it all. He didn't mean to and he was further away from commitment than I was... but the longer it went on, the more we realised that it was more than just casual." You let out a sigh, "I didn’t want to like him mum, I didn’t. There were problems and he had problems and I knew it was stupid to fall for someone who lived his whole life single and selfish but things changed and kept changing. He changed.”

The whole time you spoke, she actively listened. She didn’t try to interrupt or even make any weird noises of indignation that your dad definitely would. She just listened and processed it. You appreciated that.

“It wasn’t an easy beginning to our relationship because we had a lot of differences and he… he hurt me really bad. I almost told you back then too because he broke my heart. Really bad.” Your voice broke slightly, feeling that same break in your heart that you did at the very beginning.

“Y/n.” She soothed, placing her hand on yours over your knee. “You could’ve told me back then, y’know. I would’ve been there for you. I'm a little hurt you didn't trust me enough to come talk to me about this.”

“It's not about trust, mum. You know I trust you. Everything was just so complicated and I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t really think we’d get back together, anyway, so I didn’t want to start something and have you storm to his house to tell him off for no reason when I thought it was over.”

“I would’ve done that. I can still do that for you, if you want?” She smiled, sipping her wine again.

“No, don't," You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “We worked things out and… well we never looked back. Before we ended our casual relationship so badly, Harry was really complicated and secretive and God sometimes I wanted to strangle him. But when we got back together… he changed everything for me, mum. He worked on himself and is still working on himself and honestly, I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been. He treats me so so well and he spoils me and loves me everyday and-”

“He loves you?” She interrupted, “as in you loves you.”

You nodded.

“And you love him back?”

You took an extra moment to respond to her, not really sure where she was going with her comments. “I do. I know I do.”

“y/n…” She sighed. You could feel the change in the air. How her active listening turned to disappointment and a hope that your relationship would end before it properly started. “I honestly thought that you were just dating and having fun and he was buying you nice things, but love? I have no doubt you feel that way towards him but isn’t it too soon?”

“I just know, mum. I had no control over it and I never meant for it to happen but it did and… and I’m happy. I’m so happy with him and even with the distance and everything else, we’re making it work.”

“But how? He’s not too much younger than your dad and I and he’s got no kids, has never been married? Everyone knows he’s had his fun and sleeps with whoever he wants, what’s to say he doesn’t still want that? And then there’s the opposite. What if he’s finally done with being a bachelor and wants to settle and have kids before he gets too old? Is that what you want? Because I know it’s not.” She gave you this look and crossed her arms over her chest, like she already knew what your answer would be.

She seemed to know all your answers tonight.

“Of course I don’t want that. Not now anyway. But he doesn’t want that and he doesn’t want to sleep around either.”

“So you two haven’t spoken about settling down?” She fired back, already knowing that you had. Your mum was the best reader of people and relationships, probably because she stuck her nose in everyone's business and knew all the ways they failed.

“I mean we have but not for now. Like… just so we both know that this isn’t a short term kind of thing.”

“Y/n, baby. You are so young. So young and gorgeous and smart.” She soothed, leaning forward to cup your face and run her hands over your hair. “You have your whole life in front of you and the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you settling down with someone who’s already experienced everything? Would you not rather explore the world with someone who hasn’t seen it over and over again?”

“Mum, I can still do everything I want to do when I’m with him." You exasperated, brushing her hands off you. "I can travel and work overseas if I want and I still see my friends and do everything normal. Being in a relationship doesn’t stop that and if anything, Harry’s position makes it easier. He’s stable financially and is happy to slow down and do what I want. It’s not that he doesn’t get a say, but he’s got the freedom and wants to experience everything with me. It may not seem like it, but he’s got a lot of firsts too, mum. Trust me, I’ve thought about it all.”

“Look, I don’t know him very well.” She sighed, settling back against the couch. “He’s been living next door for nearly five years and I couldn’t even tell you what footy team he supports, but he’s always been polite and charming. All I can do is go off that and what you tell me and if you’re telling me you’re happy then… I guess I’m happy too. I just don’t want you to get hurt, y/n. By anyone.”

“I know. I don’t want that either but I promise you’ll love him like I do. You’ll see why he means so much to me. You and dad.” You smiled, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze.

“I hope so.” She smiled back, squeezing your hand in return. “So tell me more. Tell me everything.”

The next few hours were spent practically debriefing your entire relationship. You kept the bigger problems private as she simply wouldn’t understand the Ethan situation, but you told her everything else you two had been through. If it had something to do with Ethan, you twisted the story a little but for the most part, it was an amazing chat.

You loved your mum more than anything and to actually sit there and talk about Harry so freely and honestly and have her engage properly was the best feeling ever. She freely gave advice (even when you didn’t want it) but you were happy with that. You didn’t have a lot of boy problems so actually having someone to talk about with her was everything to you. It made you hopeful for the future of your relationship with Harry and took so much weight off your shoulders.

It was liberating.

“Oh god…” mum wheezed, her laughter coming to a stop as she finished off her final glass of wine for the evening. “I’m too drunk right now but in the morning we’ll brainstorm how to get back at chatty Cathy across the road. She can never ever keep her mouth shut. That woman.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Your brows furrowed and that happy, calm energy you had somehow dissipated into thin air.

“Tracey? The only reason I asked you if you were seeing Harry was because Tracey’s been hinting at it for weeks. I thought I told you.”

“No… you didn’t.”

Your mind was suddenly twisting and turning. After everything you had been through with her and Ethan and even just the shit between you and Harry, she still wouldn’t leave you alone. You had done nothing to her and left her alone since you moved out for school and yet she still had to run her mouth off about you? You just didn’t get it.

Harry had recordings over her admitting to lying to you and you had photos of her cheating and she knew that and still decided to try and get some attention her way? Nope. Not on your fucking watch.

You were over it. You were over being the target of people who you had nothing to do with. Who only wanted to use you to get money or for some other stupid fucking reason that meant nothing in real life. You were done. So if she was going to run her big fat mouth about you, then you were going to do it right back and you were going to hit her where it hurt the most. Her family.

It was only a couple of days later when the truth came out. You weren’t trying to hide it from Harry but it also wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have over the phone. He got called into work for some client emergency on Sunday which ruined his plan to come spend the day and/or night with you. Then neither of you could see the other until Tuesday as he planned to work from home on Wednesday.

You were glad that his quiet days seemed to align with yours because it meant you could spend more time together. Even if you were both busy working or doing uni work, just being in his presence was enough to make you happy. And now that your mum knew about you two… it was only a matter of time before you could start spending nights at his house too.

“Baby?” You heard Harry’s voice echo through your apartment, easily being heard in the shower due to your thin walls.

“In here.” You yelled back, scrubbing your nails through your scalp to rinse out the remaining conditioner. Harry accidentally went home with your keypass after going on his morning run the last time he stayed over. He kept it in his shorts pocket so he wouldn’t wake you and it wound up in his bags somehow, hence his ability to enter your place without you needing to go downstairs and get him. He wasn’t really meant to have them, but it was only for a couple of days and Maeve had your spares so you could still get in and out easily.

“Can I come in?” He asked a moment later, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Yeah.”

Wordlessly, he opened the door and let himself in, scanning your naked body from head to toe. You were facing the wall with your eyes closed, head tilted back so the water was streaming down your hair. Gorgeous. He had been craving you all day. It was just one of those days where it was shit after shit and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed with you and just be wrapped in your arms.

“Can I join you?” Harry asked softly, itching to jump in the hot water with you. He was already loosening his tie. Before entering your bathroom he took off his jacket and shoes so he was ready to let the rest of his clothes fall to the ground without care. You always had showers extremely hot and now that the weather was cooling down, Harry quite liked the sauna it left behind in the bathroom. He didn’t particularly enjoy it when it was 30° outside but he never let that stop him from getting in a shower with you.

“Of course, you can.” You smiled, still facing away from him. You always felt a little vulnerable being in a shower with him. Even though he had seen your body plenty of times, there was still something so sacred and personal about getting clean. You were glad you had already washed yourself before he came in because the last thing you needed him to see was you plucking out one of your long hairs from your underarms or ass.

“I wasn’t sure what time you’d be here.” You hummed, feeling the slide of his cold bare hands along your hips as he joined you in the shower.

“Yeah, I had to work late. ‘M sorry to keep you waiting.” He murmured, kissing your shoulder while wrapping his arms fully around you. You sighed into the touch, tilting your head back to welcome the feeling of his body around yours. He snuggled against you, proper bear-hugging you while digging his forehead into the crook of your neck.

“It’s okay. Maeve dragged me to a late Pilates class so I had to wash my hair. I swear I sweat like two litres every time.” You laughed softly, “I would’ve waited for you. I like being at the door to greet you.”

“I like having you greet me too.” He kissed your neck softly, “did you have fun at Pilates? I haven’t been for a while.”

“I liked it. It was a beginner class so no handstands or anything like you do but I’m sore already. ” You teased, turning around slowly to face him. He kept your body close, immediately kissing you once your faces were in line. “We should go together sometime. I’ve been trying to get Jay to go but he keeps blowing me off.” You offered, immediately sensing that something was off with him.

“I’d like that.” He murmured, pressing his lips against yours again. Harry was craving your comfort. He didn’t want to start anything or get too riled up, he just loved the warmth that spread through his chest when his mouth melted into yours. It could be a peck, a pash, a full snogging session. It didn’t matter.

You combed your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. ��How was your day?”

“Shit. Just one of those days, y’know.” Harry replied, pressing your foreheads together before kissing you again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Do you want to talk about it?” You slowly eased your bodies around so he was facing the water instead of you. He shook his head and let his eyes flutter closed as the hot water streamed over his head. You pushed his hair back from his face, kissing his chest. “Okay.” When Harry wanted to talk he’d willingly do so, so you weren’t going to push him. Sometimes work was just shit and you got that. He’d probably talk about it later once he decompressed and relaxed. “You want me to wash your hair?”

A smile grew on his face at your offer and he tipped his head down to look at you. Harry loved having his hair played with and his scalp scratched. He was like a cat. Sometimes he’d just lay there with his head on your lap for hours while you played with his hair. You first found it out during sex because he liked the pain, especially when his head was between your thighs so it only made sense he’d like it out of the bedroom too.

“You sure?”

You nodded and reached up on your tippy toes to kiss him. “Turn around.”

He pecked your mouth gently as a thank you then turned around to face the water. Wordlessly, you grabbed your shampoo and squeezed some onto your hands, rubbing them together to emulsify before you brought them to his scalp.

Harry moaned as you massaged his scalp, using your nails to scratch as you went. “That feels good.”

“Good.” You hummed, happy to look at the expanse of his back. His back muscles were incredible.

It sometimes amazed you how fit he was, but with his daily runs and intense personal training sessions he somehow managed to squeeze into his routine, it really was no wonder that he looked the way he did. He worked his ass off to be as fit as he was and to stay that way and it all paid off because his physique was better than any boy your age.

You joined him in a personal training session once and you had no doubt any of the boys you had been with in the past would fail halfway through. Would you say you participated in said session? No. You were lugged over his shoulders so he could use your weight to do squats though.

“Are we okay?” Harry asked suddenly, voice soft.

“Of course we are.” You replied instantly. “Why wouldn’t we be?” You continued rubbing circles on his scalp, massaging him to make it more pleasurable and relaxing. Your arms were already starting to ache a little, but it was worth it.

“I’m just making sure.”

“I love you, Harry. Nothing will change that.” You murmured, running your hands down from his scalp to massage his neck and over his shoulder. He echoed the sentiment, voice just audible over the water as your lips created the trail for your hands to follow; over his neck and the expanse of his shoulders, down to the middle of his back and as low as you could go without bending.

The tension was slowly leaving his body. Tense muscles melting and relaxing, his tense shoulders slumping until he was heavy on his feet. He was completely pliant to your touch and you couldn’t wait to wrap your arms around him and cuddle in bed. Part of you even wanted to skip dinner and head straight to bed.

“Rinse it, H.” You whispered, kissing a little freckle on his back before pulling back to give him space to turn around. He started scrubbing the shampoo out while you prepared his conditioner, rubbing it through your hands so it covered all your fingers.

“Y’know something interesting did happen today. It was quite a spectacle in the neighbourhood.” Harry mused, already feeling better just by your touch and loving words. He stayed facing towards you to catch your reaction, which was as easy to read as ever.

“What?” You froze for a split second while reaching to thread the conditioner through his hair, already knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Tracey was kicked out. Unfortunately I was already on my way to work but she was crying so loud everyone on the street was watching. Apparently, he found out she was cheating on him. You know anything about that?” He had this look of knowing on his face and it was like he knew that you had something to do with it.

Shit.

“About that…” you smiled sheepishly, putting your hands down to let the conditioner sit in his hair.

“I knew it!” He accused, laughing while squeezing your hips. “What did you do?”

“Okay, but you can’t be mad.” You laughed, poking his chest. “I was going to tell you tonight, okay?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” His brows knitted together, “I’m sure whatever you did had good reasoning behind it.”

“Well, yeah she’s a cunt but it’s not that.” Harry laughed loudly at your comment and you could feel his mood being lifted like steam dissipating in the air. You had such a fucking mouth on you sometimes. He loved it. “When I got home after we had that talk, everything was normal until my mum and I were watching TV after dinner. She said she had to talk about something and then just flat-out asked me if you and I were sleeping together! Like it was nothing.”

“Shit.” His eyes widened, “And what did you tell her?”

“I told her the… truth.” You were a little nervous to tell him. A lot nervous actually. You knew he was ready to tell your parents whenever you were, but it felt wrong to have that conversation without him. But you couldn’t exactly call him or go over to his house after he just told you about his nephew. That would’ve been all sorts of fucked. Your mum knowing about you two dating meant nothing compared to what he was going through.

“You did?”

“Yes. I’m really sorry.” You rushed out. “I wanted you to know when I was going to do it but I couldn’t lie to her when she was straight out asking me the question.”

“And you thought I’d be mad?” He scoffed, laughing softly while tucking your hair behind your ear. “Baby, the only way I’d be mad is if you were pressured into doing something you weren’t ready for. Were you okay having that conversation with her? I know… I know you weren’t ready to tell your parents yet.”

“Harry she asked me because Tracey was talking shit. After everything, everything we went through and all the fucked up shit she did and she still can’t leave me alone. I’ve done nothing to her.”

That manipulative cunt.

Harry didn’t like to use that word very often. Other than the obvious use when he was trying to degrade you. But there was simply no other word in the English language that summed up who Tracey was. Desperate? Yes. Annoying? Just the sound of her breathing had Harry gritting his teeth. But the only word that truly encompassed everything about her was cunt.

He had no idea that her being kicked out was because she was causing problems again. He assumed it had something to do with you because you were cheeky and sneaky at times, but he didn’t expect this. After everything that happened, he thought you guys were done with her.

“What the fuck? Fucking hell, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me?” He was getting a little frustrated at you now and you could see it in his expression. You just grabbed his hair and tilted his hair back, forcing his hair back under the water to rinse the conditioner out. Even though he was annoyed you didn’t tell him, he was still pliant to your touch and it took very minimal effort to maneuver his head.

“Because we just spoke about your family and my drama literally doesn’t matter compared to what you’re going through. I didn’t want to bother you and then I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

“Of course it matters.” He scoffed, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit by yourself. I thought she was dealt with, but clearly not. How long have you known?”

“I found out when my mum asked me about us. I had no idea anything was happening before that.”

“So… what? Tracey’s been running her mouth?”

“Basically.” You sighed, still running your fingers through his hair to get rid of the last bits of conditioner. “She hasn’t said anything directly, but she’s been making comments and saying random things that makes people think that we’re sleeping together. At least that’s what my mum said.”

“I don’t get why she’s doing this.” He sighed, “You’ve moved out and we’ve left her alone after everything that happened. She’s got no reason to come after us again.”

“Like I said, she’s a cunt.” Your words came out matter-of-factly, eliciting a roll of Harry’s eyes. “She’s probably bored and thinks that it’s easy to use me to have her fun because I’m not there to defend myself.”

“Bullshit. I’m there to defend you. Why isn’t she scared of me?” Harry scoffed, eliciting a laugh in response.

“Harry she’s obsessed with you and even if you blackmailed her and stomped all over her old wrinkly heart, she still wants you.”

“I didn’t stomp over anything. And I’m taking your old wrinkly statement as an insult.”

“Yeah right. You love being the ripe age of 39. ‘I get sexier with age, y/n’.” You quoted, attempting to mimic his low raspy accent. He raised a brow and immediately went for your sensitive spots, squeezing your waist with light twinkling fingers in an attempt to tickle you. “Stop!” You squealed, hitting his hands away. “Stop it Harry!”

“Admit I get sexier as I age. Admit it.” He threw back, wrapping one arm around your waist while using the other to tickle you.

“I hate you!” You tried to push his hand off, laughing and wiggling and squealing all at the same time. It didn’t help that you two were still very much naked. “Whatever. You’re sexier as you age.”

The tickling stopped instantly and Harry had this smug grin on his face, happy that he beat you. “Thank you.”

“You’re a child.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come on. Finish the story.” He laughed softly, looping his arms around your waist.

“I don’t even know what I was up to before your ego got bruised.”

He chose to ignore that statement. “You were explaining how obsessed Tracey is with me.”

“Oh, right. She’s obsessed with you so obviously she won’t be scared and she’s not threatened by me. She really didn’t think that I’d retaliate in any way even if I told her I would and now look at her. I think I handled it pretty fucking perfectly.” You announced proudly.

It felt a little evil to be so happy over someone elses pain. You had ruined Tracey’s life and yet you were satisfied. It felt justified. In the beginning you never wanted to use your threats against her. You just wanted to be left alone, even if that meant sitting on evidence that she was having an affair. Now though… you felt worse about keeping it a secret than using it to get back at her.

“I’d say so.” Harry laughed. “How did it all happen?”

“She goes to pilates on Sundays so I waited until she was gone and went over to speak with Oscar. All I did was tell the truth and show him one of the photos of her and Ethan. I felt really bad for him, actually. He believed me even before I showed him a photo but he still wanted to see it, probably for proof so he doesn’t have to pay her out.”

“Well shit.” Harry laughed, quickly turning you both around so you got some of the hot water. “He clearly didn’t take it well.”

You shook your head. “No. I could tell he was trying not to cry. I feel like I should’ve told him earlier.” You looked away for a moment, “it feels wrong to use one persons tragedy to get back at someone else. Like this is probably the worst thing to ever happen to him and I used it to get back at her. He doesn’t deserve that. Neither do his kids.”

“I know. The truth had to come out some way, though. It always does. Don’t blame yourself too much for it just because you benefited from it in some way. ” He grabbed your chin gently, guiding you to look back at him. “How did your mum react when you told her about us, anyway?”

You were glad he was switching back to your mum because you really didn’t want to dwell to much on Tracey of all people. Or the shittiness you felt.

“She already knew before Tracey started talking about us. She had this look on her face like she was waiting for me to outright say it.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Yeah… she said it was mother’s intuition or whatever. I’m surprised she waited this long to say something about it, to be honest. She usually can’t keep her mouth shut and she already had a glass of wine when we spoke about it.”

Harry smiled at your comment, smoothing his hands over your back. “Was she upset about it? What did she say?”

“We spoke about it for a long time. She wasn’t upset but not thrilled either. I told her how happy I am and a little bit about our relationship so far and she seemed happy that it’s going well, but she’s still worried. I think she’s worried about the age gap and… well, your reputation. She doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

You didn’t really want to go through the entire conversation with him. Nothing bad happened but it also felt like something that just you and your mum needed to know about. She gave you a lot of advice that made you feel lucky to have someone like her in your life. She was concerned but she actually listened to you, even when the conversation went a little wild, she listened to you and shared her own opinion as well. It went as well as you could’ve hoped.

“My reputation as in…”

“Your one night stands. Obviously, I assured her that she didn’t have to worry about it. She thinks you’re charming but I think that also scares her. You’re the first real relationship I’ve had and it’s not exactly conventional and… I don’t know.” You sighed, looking away for a moment, “She said that she hoped my first love would be someone my age, that I’d date more before feeling so strongly about someone.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that. So far, your mum’s concerns were valid ones and ones he expected. He never thought it would be easy or something your parents would understand right away and he prepared himself for that. They weren’t much older than him so navigating his relationship with them and you would take time.

But he didn’t like the way those words came out of your mouth. That your mum hoped your first love was someone else and that you had more experience with other people before settling down. You two weren’t exactly planning for a baby or anything, it had barely been four months, and neither of you put any expectations on your relationship. You were young and he never imagined himself as the marrying type so you both just wanted to date and love each other and see how things evolved.

But you were still in it for the long haul with each other. This wasn’t a short term arrangement or something casual. You two loved each other.

For Harry, he had already experienced heartbreak in all forms and he had grown from that. The Harry that survived his very first love was a completely different person to now. It wasn’t the only thing that shaped him to be the man he was today, but it contributed a lot to his life. He was at a point in his life now where meeting you and falling in love with you had completely changed how he thought his life would go.

He wanted to settle down with you. He couldn’t picture a future without you in it and you made it very clear that you loved him more than anything and you wanted to have that future with him.

But you didn’t have what Harry had. You didn’t have years of making mistakes and meeting people and exploring yourself. Of figuring out who you are and what you want in life. You can do that with a partner and Harry knew he could show you the world and provide experiences you might not have if you were by yourself, but if you took the romance and his undying love for you out of the equation, would he encourage you to give your all to him?

If it were anyone else, he’d tell them to keep their options open and grab any opportunities given to them. Was he holding you back from that?

“Do you wish you did? Have more relationships before me?” He solemnly asked, brows knitted together while he waited your reaction.

That was a hard question to answer. But you had no regrets in dating Harry and that’s all that mattered. “In some ways, yes. I wish I had more experience in how to navigate even being in a relationship. But mostly no. There’s no one else I’d want to share my firsts with. In a lot of ways, you’re my first everything and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” You cupped his face, running your thumbs under his cheeks. “Loving you is the happiest I’ve ever been and hopefully now, the people we love will be part of that too.”

Harry’s gaze softened and time seemed to still around you two. Having this conversation in such a vulnerable place like a shower only added to the intimacy of it all. You had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs. It happened with a look or a sigh, your gorgeous smile. And it definitely happened when you said things like this.

“I want to give you the world, y/n. I want to give you everything you want. You tell me and it’s yours.” He murmured, gazing deep in your eyes.

“I just want you.” You whispered, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really.”

His eyes flickered between yours as he tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against yours. His wet hair dripped down your cheek, running down your jaw and neck, all the way until it joined the water at your feet. “I just want you too. Always.”

You smiled and pulled his mouth down towards you, pressing your body against his to get impossibly closer to him. He wrapped his arms fully around you, squeezing you against him so every inch of your pretty soft skin melted into his. Your mouths blended into one, lips brushing together in a slow languid kiss.

His tongue slid across your bottom lip and you freely gave him access to your mouth so he could slip in and run his tongue against yours. God, everything about it was so sexy. The steam clouding over you both, how good your wet bodies felt pressed together… the way his cock started to harden against your thigh, unable to spring up in that way you loved due to how close you two were.

“I think…” You gasped, breaking free to run your mouth over his jaw. “You should finish your shower…” You pressed kisses in a path towards his ear, kissing his lobe once you got there before playfully tugging at it between your teeth. Harry whimpered in your ear, reaching down to squeeze your ass in both hands. “...and join me in bed.”

With that, you kissed his neck then unwrapped yourself from his arms, smirking as you slid past him to grab your towel. His hand snapped out suddenly, clasping around your wrist. “Don’t go.”

Harry looked like a starved man. His chest was heaving, cock heavy and hard between his legs and his lips all red and puffy from your kisses. You would’ve fucked him right there if shower sex didn’t scare the hell out of you.

“I’ll get you a towel.” You blew him a little kiss, ignoring the crazed look in his eyes and walking away. Oh did you love a tease.

It wasn’t long before Harry had you pinned to your bed, grinding his hips in slow deliberate strokes. Your entire love making was just that, making love. It was slow and deep, full of so many kisses you could barely breathe. His body was pressed heavy on top of you and he made sure you felt every inch of him that you could. Every inch of his cock, every inch of his heavy muscle and soft sweaty skin.

The window above your bed was still open, a clear view of the moon above your heads. It was a view you two decided was worth putting your pillows down by your feet when you were finished so you could lay the opposite direction and look outside. You had a nice view of the water, though it was particularly dark outside and the moon was so bright it took your entire process.

“I still can’t believe she knows.” Harry murmured, looking up from where his head rested on your chest.

“Who?” You whispered, missing the context of his comment, “My mum?”

“Mmh.” he nodded, looking down to where your hands were joined and resting on your stomach. “It feels… good. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like we’re moving onto the next step.”

“I feel the same. I feel better knowing she’s supportive. I had a feeling she would be, but it’s nice knowing I’ve got her on my side when we tell my dad.”

“Mmh.” He hummed in agreement, looking at the string of pearls around your neck. You put them back on after the shower and he found himself mesmerised by the way they twinkled under the moon light. “y’know I told my mum I was seeing someone. After our weekend away.”

“You did?” you frowned slightly.

“I didn’t say anything too personal or anything because we were keeping it quiet.” He assured, sensing the slight panic in your voice. “But I wanted her to know I have someone in my life who makes me happy.”

You smiled, that slight beat of worry completely gone. “What did you tell her about me?”

“Not much. Just your name and that you’re studying. I didn’t want to show her any photos without asking you. She gets a bit excited and I knew if I sent her something she’d tell everyone about it.” He rolled his eyes, but you could tell by his tone that he loved that quality about her. Pausing, he looked from the moon to you. “I think you’d like her.”

“She sounds like my type of gal.” You grinned, “I’m excited to meet her.”

“I think she’d cry if you said that. Happy tears of course.”

You laughed softly, swiping your fingers through his hair. It had dried down after the shower and your activities and became all fluffy and dishevelled. You loved it in its natural state.

“Would you like to meet her?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice soft so only you could hear it. There was no one in your apartment but you yet the moment was so intimate and quiet, he didn’t want to ruin it. “We could facetime?” He looked up at you, expression hopeful for your response.

“Harry I’d love that.”

“Really?” His eyes widened ever so slightly, like he was surprised you’d agree. “You would?”

“Of course I would.” You assured, smiling while dancing your fingers across his jaw. “Set it up. Whenever suits her.”

“Okay.” He grinned, reaching up to kiss you quickly before settling back down on your chest to look out at the moon, “I will.”

It felt so right and natural to take this next step. There were nerves about it, of course, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared that Anne wouldn’t like you or that you’d make a fool out of yourself. But you knew a decent amount about her and even if you didn’t, you knew you’d love her simply based off the fact you loved Harry. That was enough.

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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coldfanbou · 5 hours

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What A Few Drinks Do

Alright, new twice mommy series part. We had some slight fallout from the last part before we spent some time with Dahyun. We learn something interesting about this mommy lol. This part is gonna help set something up for later.

Length 2.5K

Dahyun X Mreader

You wake up, get ready, and drive to Dahyun’s home. You chat with her briefly as she puts Eunsoo in the back. “You said Nayeon was just going to ride with us yesterday, right?”

“Mhmm, she just wanted a good look at the area. She hasn’t asked for another ride, so we can go as soon as I have Eunsoo all set.” Dahyun buckles in her sleepy baby and climbs into the back, checking herself for everything. “We’re all set back here.”

“Then let’s get going.” Your drive is peaceful, and the two of you walk into work. You notice Jeongyeon hadn’t come in yet. It was strange, but you thought that maybe she was just going to be late. During your break, you meet up with Dahyun, “Did you see Jeongyeon at all today?”

“No, I haven’t. Nayeon’s not here either,” Dahyun pouts as she begins to think with a bit of worry on her face, “Do you think something happened to them?”

“I don’t think so, to both of them? I’ll call Jeongyeon, and you can call Nayeon. You do have her number, right?” Dahyun nods her head and calls Nayeon while you do the same for Jeongyeon. You hear the tone as you wait for your call to go through, only to get sent to her voicemail. Dahyun receives the same response, but neither woman responds. The two of you are considering visiting Nayeon. “I don’t know where Jeongyeon lives, so we’ll have to visit Nayeon to see if she knows anything.” Dahyun nods her head.

“Yeah, I hope nothing bad happened.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much Dahyun. They’re strong. Let’s finish the day before going.” Dahyun nods along, her face a mix of concern and uncertainty. The two of you focus on your work, trying to distract yourselves before finishing up the day and heading back to her home. You unload Eunsoo first, helping Dahyun get everything back home before heading to Nayeon’s apartment. You knock on the door when no response comes; you knock again, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.

This time, the door opened; it was just a crack, but it was enough to tell you Nayeon was home. “Nayeon!” Dahyun says, relieved to see her. “We got worried when you and Jeongyeon didn’t show up for work. Are you alright? And do you know if Jeongyeon is okay? We tried to call her earlier.”

Nayeon opens the door a little more, “Sorry for not coming in today. It’s just that Jeongyeon isn’t doing so well.” The older woman looks inside before turning back to you. “She found out her husband has been cheating on her. She’s been in bed crying all day. I don’t think now's the time to have company.” You struggle to find the words to respond.

“Is there anything we can do for her? Maybe bring her something to eat?”

“We’d appreciate that, Dahyun. I’m probably going to miss the next few days of work while I watch Jeongyeon. I’ll tell you both when she starts to feel better.”

“Right, we appreciate that, Nayeon.” You tell her before she closes the door on you and Dahyun. You head back to Dahyun’s home, entering behind her. “Dahyun, would you mind if I stayed the night?”

Dahyun gently bounces Eunsoo in her arms as she heads towards her bedroom. “Of course. Let me put Eunsoo down, and I can start something.” Dahyun uses her body to close the door to her bedroom. Placing Eunsoo in her crib, Dahyun's grin grows. She knew it was a bad situation, but she was happy it caused you to spend more time with her. Dahyun jumped up and down in the room as quietly as she could, far too excited. She calms herself down, running her hands through her hair to clean her messy hair before stepping back out.

“What do you want to eat?” She says, struggling to hide her smile as she looks at you.

“Let’s see what you have first,” you say as you look inside the fridge. “Actually, let me cook something for you. It’ll be something simple but delicious. We can bring some over to Nayeon and Jeonyeon, too.”

“Yeah,” Dahyun says, walking over to you and placing her hand on your back. “At least let me help you.”

“You can help me after you change, Dahyun. You should change into something more comfortable.” Dahyun nods and hurries to her room, changing quickly before returning in an oversized t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

“Alright, now let me help,” Dahyun says with conviction. The two of you make a small meal of seared fish, rice, and stir-fried vegetables. You prepare enough for yourselves and Jeongyeon and Nayeon.

“We should take these over while it’s still hot. I can take them real quick; you can plate the rest.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You pack some of the food and head to Nayeon’s home. You knock on the door, waiting outside for a second when Nayeon opens the door slowly, poking her out from behind it.

“We made you two some food; it’s still hot.” You tell her as you hand over the food. “Is Jeongyeon doing alright? I mean, is she at least eating?”

“She’d rather not, but I’m making sure she does. Thanks for the food. I know she’ll appreciate it.” Nayeon says with a slight smile. “I’m glad that she’s made some good friends.”

You nod in response, “We just want to see her do well. I’ll be leaving now. Good night.”

“Good night.” She says, closing the door.

You return to Dahyun’s, thinking about how Jeongyeon must be feeling. As you step through the door to Dahyun’s apartment, she grabs your arm and drags you to your seat. “Come on, let’s eat.” You and Dahyun talk about various topics throughout your meal, going from work to what you like to do at home as you have a few drinks.

“It’s amazing that you’re able to work and take care of Eunsoo. Do you even have any time for yourself?”

“Sometimes, but for the most part, I just sleep. I’m too tired to do anything else.”

“I’m sure it must be tough sometimes.”

“Yeah, but it’s a little easier now that you pick us up and drop us off. I’ve had a little more time to sleep in the morning. I’ve gotten the chance to relax more, and I feel really good.” Dahyun runs her finger along the rim of her glass. She gives you a nervous look before breaking into a smile. “Um, would you like to… never mind.” Dahyun wipes her face. You watch it begin to turn red and decide to push her on the subject.

“Would I like to what?”

“I-um was going to ask if you’d like to…” Dahyun looks around the room, trying to find some way to change the subject. You lean over the small dining table and place your hands around the side of Dahyun’s eyes, giving her nowhere else to look. “I want to know if you wanted to have sex.” She says quietly, her pale face turning a bright red.

“What was that?” You ask her to repeat herself, wanting to tease her.

“Do you want to have sex?” Dahyun says as she looks at the dining table.

You stop covering Dahyun’s peripheral vision, “I think that you’re the one that wants to have sex, Dahyun.” She blushes at your statement. The alcohol was talking for both of you; you lean in and steal a kiss from Dahyun. She shuts her eyes, her hands gingerly wrapping around you as you get closer to one another. You grab Dahyun, lifting her as you two continue to kiss. You carry her to the living room, crashing on top of her couch. You feel her legs wrap around you. Your hands move down her sides, grabbing at the hem of her shirt. You lift it slowly before tossing it off her body, seeing her bare breasts as Dahyun looks away from you. You cup one of the soft mounds, giving it a light squeeze and shaking it in your hand. She shivers at your touch, a gasp escaping her lips.

You run your thumb over her nipple, flicking it lightly. A small amount of milk leaks from her tit as you give her breast another squeeze—this time, Dahyun moans, her eyes filled with lust as she grabs the couch's armrest. You kiss the middle of her chest, slowly moving to her left breast. You kiss around her nipple, teasing her as her breathing becomes heavy with anticipation.

Dahyun felt herself getting wet as you teased her body. She could hardly keep her eyes off you. You avoid her nipple, moving up toward her neck and planting sweet kisses. Dahyun coos as she feels your tongue against her skin; your finger flicks her nipple again, making her grimace as her world becomes filled with pleasure.

Your slide your other hand down her smooth stomach, sneaking under her pajama bottoms and rubbing against her cunt, the thin fabric of her panties quickly becoming soaked in her juices along her slit. “Ah, that feels so good,” Dahyun groans.

You stop kissing her momentarily, getting by her ear to tell her, “Don’t forget to make me feel good.”

Dahyun looks down at your bulge and reaches for it. Cupping it in her hands, she feels the heat radiating from it. She rubs it slowly with her hand, earring small groans from you as you get under her panties and push two fingers inside her. “Oh fuck,” Dahyun moans as she grips your shirt. You curl your fingers inside her, rubbing against her walls as you push your fingers in and out of her. You take in one of her nipples, running your tongue along it. Dahyun’s body grew weaker; she could hardly move as you flooded her mind with pleasure. “Keep going,” She moaned, grinding herself against your hand.

“Dahyun, you’re sounding so slutty.” You whisper into her ear.

“Don’t say that. I’m not a slut,” Dahyun whimpers as she nears her climax. You feel her walls tighten around your fingers; you speed up, causing her to whine.

“Don’t you hear yourself? You’re moaning like one.” You say as you flick her nipple with your tongue.

“I’m-I’m cumming,” Dahyun was trying to refuse your claims, but she climaxed before she could finish. You watch her body twitch as she cums, as she soaks her pajama bottoms in her nectar. Still, you continue to finger her, “Wait, please!” Dahyun whines as you overstimulate her. You shut her up with a kiss.

Feeling her walls tighten around your fingers again, you slow down and deny her another orgasm. You climb off the already-exhausted woman, stripping yourself down to nothing before doing the same to Dahyun. Back on the couch, you grab Dahyun and place her on your lap so she can straddle you. Dahyun places her hands on the sofa, trying to support herself as you tease her cunt with your cock. She mumbles something, and when you ask her to say it louder, she repeats herself, “I want your cock.”

“Are you being honest with yourself now, Dahyun?” She lazily nods at you. You get by her ear, whispering your question, “Are you a slut, Dahyun?”

“I’m not a slut,”

“What if I made you my slut?” You let go of Dahyun’s body, letting her support herself but keeping your cock pointed toward her cunt. “All you have to do is drop yourself on my cock.” You make the choice harder for Dahyun by rubbing the tip against her lips. When you come to a stop, Dahyun drops her weight on you, impaling herself on your cock. You both moan. Grabbing onto Dahyun’s waist, you start to thrust, holding her still as you drive your cock deep into Dahyun’s cunt. She grabs your shoulder and fills the room with her moans as your bodies smack against each other. You move one of your hands to Dahyun’s ass, giving the soft piece of flesh a rough squeeze and making Dahyun groan. “How does it feel, Dahyun?”

“I love it, I love your cock.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” You nip at Dahyun’s neck, “Who’s my little slut?” You ask teasingly.

“I am, I’m your slut.” Dahyun groans as she bounces on your cock, her modest breasts bouncing along with her. Dahyun’s walls clamp down on your cock as she says that. You figure that she might like the slight degradation and slap her ass.

“Say it again.”

“I’m your dirty slut,” Dahyun moans, a tired expression on her face as she approaches her orgasm. “I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.”

“Not so soon, Dahyun. Hold on a little longer.” Dahyun bites her lip as she tries to hold off her orgasm. As you continue to thrust into her tightening cunt, you feel yourself about to cum. You speed up, moving like a piston in and out of Dahyun.

“I’m cumming!” Dahyun shouts. You bring her down onto your cock, burying yourself inside her as you cum. Dahyun feels the familiar warmth inside her as your cum rushes into her, painting her walls white as your baby batter makes its way into her womb. She leans forward, kissing you as you both come down from the high. You lay down on the couch, with Dahyun lying on top of you, your cock still inside her. You end up falling asleep like that.

When you woke up, it was early in the morning, and it was still dark outside. A light down the hallway stayed on as Dahyun came back into the living room. She was startled to see you awake. “What are you doing up so early in the morning?” you asked her.

“Eunsoo woke up and started crying. I just finished putting her back to sleep.” Dahyun responds before sitting on the couch. “Last night was…something.” She says, struggling to describe what happened.

“I think we both had a little bit too much to drink,” you tell her, placing your hand on your thigh. Your memories of last night are a little foggy, but there was one thing you remembered. “Dahyun, I’m sorry for last night, but I have to ask.” She looks at you nervously. “Are you into degradation? Because you got really tight when that started.”

Dahyun felt her nerves relax as you asked that question before she began to huff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said defiantly, trying to ignore that part of last night.

“No, I definitely remember you getting tighter when I degraded you.” You squeeze Dahyun’s thigh and lean in. “Who’s my little slut.” Dahyun shivers at your words, and her legs rub against each other. It makes you laugh.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!” Dahyun whines as she smacks your chest.

“It’s a little funny!” You retort as you take hold of her wrists. “It’s nice learning these things about you, Dahyun; now I know how to turn you on.” Dahyun blushes and buries her face in your chest.

“Shut up,” She says quietly. “We still have four hours until work; let's get some more sleep, Mister.” She says, mildly annoyed at you. You stifle a laugh and agree with her as you try to relax and go back to sleep for a little while longer.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #dahyun smut

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2kmps · 2 days

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BOUNTY

hot outlaw x engineer!reader | 2.8k

story summary; shortly following the death of your mother, you come to learn that you're the illegitimate offspring of a railroad tycoon with insurmountable wealth and power meant to inherit it all. after a hasty departure from home to begin your journey across the continent of san-am, your train is stopped and boarded by a mysterious man in black tatters who claims to be there kill you.

story warnings; mentions of death, mention of bodily fluids and excrement, heavy worldbuilding, mentions of conspiracy to murder, kidnapping, neo-western setting, old-west slang used, usage of unique slang, not really proofread or edited, concept piece for a much larger project.

if you enjoyed, please interact & reblog this post!! ❣️

Mother died a week before the lawyer showed up on your doorstep with an inheritance letter and half-hearted condolences for your absentee father’s poor prognosis. A day after that, your life was stowed into a pair of suitcases and a heavier hard case that you barely justified bringing aboard the train. In three weeks and three layovers, you would be across the continent in St. Corpus, the industrial heart of San-Am, where your father awaited you on his deathbed.

Horace Grissom had fathered a new age of industry and outward expansion in lands once believed to be sprawling metropolises centuries long gone. They had been left behind as skeletons of steel and rust from a time of global war, reclaimed in totality by the roots of elder trees, the decay of salt and sea, the precarious will of mountains, and the great sinkholes and corrosion of sand and time.

Traces of that old world had survived thanks in part to the rigorous efforts of archaeologists and conservationists at the University of San-Am in Grimerise. With each new discovery, opportunistic vultures like your father blotted their pens to their tongues to their pocketbooks and readied themselves to own the patent of it like history had a price and could only belong to them. Indeed, anything could be bought, because with those fragments of history, he built the San-Am Continental Railroad which crossed through each of the five territories and was considered the premier way to travel.

You were never allowed to ask questions about Horace under Mother’s roof as the very mention of his name would set her ablaze in some pettish, garrulous tantrum that, oftentimes, ended with you going to bed before dusk without dinner until the next day. She loved that bitterness up until the very moment she died, clawing your clothes, your skin, her nightgown, her own throat because she couldn't breathe and there was nothing you could do to save her from succumbing.

“Go in peace, Mother.” you said, kissing the back of her sun-speckled hand even as she tried digging her nails into your face. “I love you.”

She did not waste peacefully, nor did she end by staring up rapturously at the ceiling as though something else waited for her beyond it. Mother passed in blood, vomit, excrement, and all her hatred while you bade her farewell and considered who was best to call to have her body carted away to burn with all the others that had also succumbed that day. You made sure to label that as the cause of death on the official paperwork.

After that, you had made quick work of piling all of her things into boxes to be incinerated as well, certified the house was safe and in a liveable state (besides her old mattress, which was the first thing you disposed of because of the smell) for another family to move into.

Once all of that had been finished and you gained the time to rest, you got a knock at your door, a bald, sinewy man with a round hat claiming to be Joseph Whitwald—estate planning lawyer, he made sure to specify more than once—and that you needed to leave post haste to your father's estate in St. Corpus before he perished.

“You have significant placement in his will, illegitimate or not. This is what he wanted, this is what shall be done,” said Whitwald assuredly as he rooted through the pockets of his pants and white suit vest for something. He found it and made a sound and a flourish, revealing to you a red ticket. “Take this. It's for one of the elite cabins in first class. Your father wanted you to have the best amenities that the San-Am Continental has to offer.”

Even with such luxuries available to you with the sound of a bell on string, you eventually found yourself exchanging tickets with a young woman traveling solo for the first time. She went red in the eyes, asserted her appreciation, and scooped you into a hug before taking the ticket and her belongings to the first car.

The passenger car was considerably noisier with children running amok, drunks and musicians belting tunes while dancing in the center aisle—doing poorly to keep their balance as the train navigated the terrain beneath the rails, and ladies in bustles and fashionable blouses screaming like hens over fresh gossip. The stewards were frustrated that they couldn't get their trolleys through all the bodies, whereas some passengers let their stomachs roar through their mouths as they assailed anyone nearby (especially the poor lads just trying to deliver food) with complaints.

You liked everything happening around you; it was a good distraction from the way life had twisted your arm behind your back. The cacophony of laughter and anger felt like home, a comfortable companion to sit there with you on the empty, thinly padded benches while you stared uselessly at the inheritance papers—uncomprehending.

A gasp shot up your throat and made you bite your tongue as you were launched forward onto the adjacent bench (also empty) when the train suddenly began to slow—brakes engaged with such quickness that the wood beams under your feet vibrated up through your soles into your bones and teeth and skull until you became lightheaded and collapsed back into your seat.

The squeal and grind of steel worsened your confusion, turned the fuzz in your head into dull drumming—aches that pulsed to a beat you couldn't figure out, but it deadened the screams all around you and bodies hitting the floorboards in thunderous heaps.

And then, there was silence.

The other passengers kept their voices low as they climbed back into their seats, children were smothered deep into their mother’s bosoms as they wept, and no one dared to investigate what had brought the train to such a violent stop.

“Mummy, what's happening?” asked a girl from the benches behind you. She couldn't have been older than ten, from the sound of her. “Mummy, why—”

“Lottie!” the mother hissed at her daughter, “Shhh! Say nothing else, child.”

From a few seats away, closer to the front, you recognized the gruff, muddled voice from one of the drunkards who had been dancing in the aisle a while ago. Now, he had a bloody nose and a nasty knot growing on his forehead.

“What the hell is the big idea of them scarin’ the piss outta us like this? Do you see my face? They gonna do somethin’ to fix it?” he complained, then swigged liquor from a flask he had smuggled on. “I should go up there and give ‘em a piece of my mind. Bastards.”

“Peace, friend,” soothed a musician with an unfamiliar accent and stringed instrument. “Don't be hasty. I'm sure there’s a good reason why they had to stop. Let them find a solution, we’re just here for the ride.”

Just as the chatter was rising up again, commotion from the first class car stifled it hard, prompting some folks to abandon their seats near the door separating the cars to crowd into the rear. You were tempted to flee with them, join their pack so if they were going to find a way off the train, you'd be mixed up in their stampede and have a better chance to get away.

Except, you simply packed away your inheritance paperwork and sat there with your chin tucked to the collarbone, the visor of your baseball cap pulled lower over your sunglasses to seem as nondescript as possible. Meanwhile, the sounds from first class grew intense; glass shattered, passengers screamed and shuffled around, something you knew to be true because you felt the floor rumble under your feet again.

And then, the passenger car door slid open without the ferocity you had expected. The door scraped along its metal rail, allowing the body to pass through in heavy, languid steps. You paced your breaths to hear it all; the boots and clinking spurs striking wood with dull thuds, a baritone hum that you were convinced you could feel reverberate in your own chest as it came closer, the scuff of thick fabric and creaking leather.

You waited for it all to pass, to move on like a slow-moving rain cloud amidst a humid summer day, but it stopped at you instead. The tips of the man's boots were within view, as were slithers of tattered, black fabric from a long duster that fell short of his shins.

And then, there was the barrel of a gun. The breaths you had been holding shivered out of you, cold dread sank deep into your stomach and bones as the gun flicked upward a few times.

You obeyed and raised your head up to look at the man—tall, broad-shouldered, a rugged face with dark features mostly obscured by the shadow of his wide rim.

He tilted his head, gun higher as he flicked it down and you understood that to mean to take off your sunglasses. When you did so, offering him a full view of your face, his lips lifted crookedly into a half-smile.

“Well then,” he took the bench adjacent to you before holding something up to your head, seemingly a piece of paper, and shifted his gaze between you and it just twice. “Aren't you something special? Found you, darlin’.”

“What?” you frowned. “Found me?”

“Yeah, the resemblance is uncanny. You're definitely his kid. It's all in the eyes, really.” He said, turning the paper around to reveal a photograph of a man who you did share an eerie likeness to. It was the sameness in the eyes—the color and shape and emotion they evoked through a simple still image. “Horace Grissom had an illegitimate kid a long time ago. Turns out, not everyone is so pleased for that to become public knowledge. Turns out, someone wants you to bite the ground.”

“I've done nothing wrong!” you bristled.

He settled on the bench and hiked an arm up across the back of it. “That's usually how it goes, hun. Puttin’ holes in types like you really ain't my favorite thing to do. You'd be surprised how many people get put in your exact situation. Well, eh, not quite. ‘Cause not everyone is Horace Grissom’s kid.”

“Who hired you?” you demanded.

His lopsided smile remained. “Can't tell you that, darlin’. Confidentiality an’ all that.”

“So, then, you're a bounty hunter?” At this point, you weren't sure if you were trying to stave off an inevitability, or he had just riled you up that badly. “How much are you getting?”

“Enough to live the high-life for quite a while, I'd say.” He continued, “but I ain't no bounty hunter. Them folks gotta play by rulebooks an’ a bunch of codes and whatever. Not my thing.”

“A criminal, then,” you said. “An outlaw.”

He shifted the rim of his hat away from his eyes and leaned towards a pillar of golden, midmorning sunlight that came in through the window. “Sure, if that's what'll make you feel better about this entire thing.”

You could actually see him now—the contrast between the ambery hue in his rich complexion and pale green of his eyes. His skin had some weather to it, enough to prove that he had seen the worst of every season for years on end without it wearing him thin, along with thoroughly kempt hair on his face and loose waves that draped slightly beyond his shoulders.

“I…” the longer he stared at you, the less you were able to think. That was ridiculous considering you had survived the soul-crushing burden of engineering school and all of the personalities therein. “I can offer you something better than what you were hired for.”

He did a fast sweep of the colossal heaps of fabric hanging from your frame, a style you preferred to keep eyes off of you on the best and worst of days. It didn't do much to deter him as it did others.

“Oh, yeah? Whaddya got, hun?”

You lifted your shoulders and stacked your bones right. “I've got a vast inheritance that I'm not interested in. Horace is dying and I’m in his will to receive half his properties, along with his shares in the San-Am Continental Railway and Subsidiaries. If you can get me to St. Corpus, you can have the inheritance—every last gris.”

A shrill whistle echoed around your head, tuneful and mocking. The sound of it whittled your confidence back down to nothing, filling the space of your throat with a vise that you couldn't seem to swallow around. That same great unease you had felt before weaseled around in your chest, coiled your ribs and then plunged straight down into your gut.

“Good offer, but it ain't on the table.” The way he spoke was easy and slow, a thick drawl that suited every bit of him up to even now. He acted as though he weren't essentially holding a gun to your head, threatening your life in the name of money—or something else. “Gris is always good to have lyin’ around, but, honey, it don't really mean a lot to a man like me. Why, then, d’ya think I take on work like this? Why do ya think I trek halfway across the five territories time and time again? What really keeps a man goin’ out here in this godforsaken place?”

You felt yourself shrink in your seat as he leaned forward over his thighs, coming closer still like he had a secret to keep. “It's for the thrill. The hunt. The challenge of it all. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't actively seek out men to shoot or… nice types like you, but part of the fun is trackin’ down, the other part is just havin’ a chat—just like this.”

Then, he had the picture of Horace held out to you between two fingers. “Tell ya what, I see that hard case you brought aboard. I know what it is, but I want you to offer me somethin’ more interesting than a bunch of gris.”

You scrunched the photograph against your palm once you had it, hoping the sweat off your skin would ruin his face and make the ink run, but looked to the aforementioned hard case instead.

It was made of a hard plastic shell with strips of rubber outlining the odd shape of the thing. Inside was your handheld welding gun—one of many—that you had decided to bring along for little reason besides thinking it could be of use at some point during your time away. It wouldn't be enough to handle larger jobs such as the ones you were accustomed to in the workshop back in Grimerise, but it could fix a wagon or two, glue some pipes together, and do some damage if need be.

“C’mon, darlin’, sell yourself to me.” he pressed, gesturing his impatience with winding fingers. “What do you do for a living, huh?”

“I'm an engineer,” you continued hastily, “I-I can solder, weld, braze, cut, and saw. I can do anything if I have the right equipment.”

In turn, he asked, “Does that mean you can cut open a safe?”

“If you give me what I need, I can do anything.” you said.

A new sort of look overcame his features, one of great fondness and admiration that made the green of his eyes take on the milky luster of jade. You had the hope that this unique softness would gain you freedom from a shallow, empty death; a chance to go forward to seize the assets sworn to you by a man you'd never known.

His hands came forward to take your wrists, the weight of them first heavy and then cold as a pair of handcuffs were locked around you, knocking bone when you lunged back into your seat and fought against them.

“I've got myself quite boon!” In the next moment, he had hauled you up across his shoulder, retrieved both your suitcases, and called one of the stewards to carry your welding gun after him. “Time to go. Gotta introduce you to the crew and get ya settled in.”

“Wait, I don't even know your name!” you shouted and thrashed from shoulder.

He grinned. “Jericho, darlin’.”

a/n: so, this is a concept piece to a very large neo-western project I'm currently in the process of outlining and fleshing out. most things mentioned in this little oneshot will not be present in the final piece, the quality will, of course, be substantially better.

jericho is an outlaw with an extremely complex background story and will definitely be one of the more interesting characters I've ever written. he's not necessarily the sort of man you want entangled in your life, but he's loyal to a fault once you have his trust. his personality tends to revolve around "taking things as they come", which is a great nuisance to those around him. he likes a good challenge, strong liquor, and good medicine.

here's a brief glossary if you're interested:

san-am: the continent where events take place. no one knows what it used to be called because most historical documents have been lost. it's divided into five territories with a "capital".

grimerise: the central hub of commerce, home of the governing bodies. it's a large city dead center of the other four territories. mc was born and raised there. the university of san-am is also here.

st. corpus: the industrial heart of san-am, found down south near the seaboard. mc's father lives there.

"gris": currency in this world. its components are coins and bank notes. it is a relatively new thing to come about because the bartering system is still the preferred method of trading.

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blue-ink-pearls · 3 hours

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So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:

Sklonda literally said it was him

Bobby Dawn has always been a predator

The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.

So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.

Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.

When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!

The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.

The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.

The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.

He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.

Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.

Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.

*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!

**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #sandra lynn faeth #bobby dawn

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thevoidstaredback · 16 hours

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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3

Tag List: @flame-343

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all-mirth-no-matter · 13 hours

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Time After Time | Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Tommy has an important question for Grace, Ada and Freddie get married, and someone else comes back from the dead

Warning: language

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 18: Trouble

Will it come to pass, or will I pass the test? You know what they say, yeah the wicked get no rest. You can have my heart, any place, any time. Got so much to lose. Got so much to prove. God, don’t make me lose my mind. — Trouble, Cage The Elephant

“Do you like races?”

The way Tommy asked the question made your heart clench.

You sat in the back room of the pub, peeking through a small crack in the doorway as you tried to remind yourself, It’s not real. You were trying to unsuccessfully distract yourself with the inventory as you stayed out of the way.

But your eye caught the way Grace’s head tilted as she offered him her shy smile.

“Is it Cheltenham?” she asked sweetly. He hummed out a yes. “And you want to take me?”

The way she emphasized the last word made you want to roll your eyes.

You heard him clear his throat. “You’ll fit in. Prim, posh, like the rest of the rich girls who come in for these races.”

You couldn’t help but look down at your own outfit, so dingy next to her deep red sweater and bright blonde hair, not a soft curl out of place. Get it together, you chastised yourself, completely over the self-loathing streak you’d been in lately.

But the way Grace’s cheeks pinkened slightly at the compliment felt like twist of the knife already plunged into your psyche.

This had been Tommy’s plan, you tried to remind yourself. The night before, after he’d come over from his altercation with Billy Kimber in the pub, he’d explained how he’d persuade the new barmaid to accompany them.

You’d almost laughed at the way you had to remind him that he couldn’t just force someone to prostitute themselves out just because he said so. You had to remind yourself that in this period, with Tommy’s influence, he probably could. But you’d been successful in steering him away from that method.

And while his proposal still felt very daunting, he’d decided to go the more flattering route. Still, you didn’t like the idea of leading her on. Not just because of your own feelings, but because you didn’t like putting someone in potential danger. Even if Kimber had good intentions (which you severely doubted, even though you’d never met the man), it wasn’t fun being blindsided that way.

But Tommy had convinced you to ease her into it. Not to tell her something until there was something to tell. Again, you weren’t happy with it — but you’d come to learn how far Tommy was willing to bend on matters like these.

You heard coins dropping on the counter, Tommy’s voice pulling back to their exchange.

“Here, for the dress. Make it red.”

“I’ll need more than that.”

Tommy huffed out an amused breath before you heard another coin be placed on the table. “That’s three pounds.”

“And how much did you pay for the suit you’ll be wearing?”

“Oh, I don’t pay for suits.” You heard the clinking of glass as he collected the bottle of whiskey and glasses he’d asked for when he originally entered. Then he continued, “My suits are on the house, or the house burns down.”

“So you want me to go lookin’ like a flower girl?”

“What I want makes no difference. It’s not me you’re dressing up for.”

The sound of the snug window doors closed, and you felt yourself exhale, knowing the conversation between the pair had come to an end for now. A few seconds later, you heard the pub doors open and close, then the distinct sound of the snug doors close.

Tommy had a meeting — some men who’d reached out wanting to discuss some potential business.

After a few minutes, now back on the inventory, you got up and opened the door to the main room to check on something. You stopped when you noticed Grace leaning against the wall of the snug, her ear pressed against the window. She didn’t notice you, her concentration focused on overhearing whatever conversation was going on in the other room.

You were deciding whether you should stop her, or continue to observe to see what she was up to, when the sound of singing began to grow louder from inside the snug. The singing caused her to push away from the wall, but not before her eyes finally met yours. Her mouth dropped in surprise before snapping shut as she tried to busy herself, but you didn’t miss the slight panic behind her eyes of being caught. She grabbed a crate of bottles and hustled into the side room behind the bar.

“All right, boys,” Tommy boomed as he opened the doors and gestured for them to exit, “when I know who knows what about what, I’ll let you know.”

One of the men pushed the second man still singing out the pub door, and you caught the last bit of his song.

“—I long to see the boys of the old IRA!”

Tommy shook his head as he set the bottle on the counter.

“Pretty bold of them to sing that with the new Inspector running around,” you commented as you moved behind the counter, grabbing the paperwork you’d originally come out for.

He huffed out a chuckle, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. “They’re only rebels because they like the songs.”

You rose your brow, “Will they be back?”

“Nah,” he shook his head, blowing out smoke. “They’ll go back to the Black Swan in Sparkbrook. I have to go, but tonight,” he pointed at you as he walked backwards toward the door.

You nodded, a slight flush across your cheek at the bluntness of his comment. Only a few men sat in the far corners of the booth, but still, it wasn’t like Tommy was trying to be discreet.

It’d been two nights in a row now that Tommy had closed out the day in your apartment. Nothing scandalous had happened either time— he hadn’t even kissed you since you’d gone to the races. Not that you were necessarily opposed to things moving a bit further — but knowing your luck the minute the two of you did, the world would swallow up into itself to stop you.

The sound of Grace clearing her throat as she reemerged from the side room caused you to turn around.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” she began, and you were surprised at her gumption to address her obvious snooping.

Your brow creased, “Really? You’re going to pretend like you weren't eavesdropping?”

“I was just— they were my countrymen,” she stumbled, her eyes looking down to her hands. “I got curious. I know I shouldn’t—”

“No,” you emphasized.

You could see her throat bobble. “I’ve never seen them before. I haven’t seen many Irishmen in this pub, really. It was a Republic song they were singing, wasn’t it?”

“I think so,” you answered, still skeptic but curious. “Tommy said they don’t normally drink here.”

“Oh,” she said, chancing a look back at you. “Did Mr. Shelby say where they do?”

“Tommy wasn’t exactly whispering just now, I assume you heard him say where,” you answered. Her eyes dropped quickly, her cheeks pink as she met your eyes again. Unsure what her angle here was, your curiosity piqued. “Are you interested?”

“I have no sympathies for them,” she said sharply, almost out of instinct. Her facial expressions shifted from disgusted to shameful, and then back to a forced neutral, as she must have realized her own tone too late.

But in the quick moment, there was pain behind her eyes that you couldn’t help but notice. You didn’t completely understand, but you knew enough to know that what was going on with the division of Ireland at the moment was delicate. Especially with the reputation the Inspector had brought with him. And based on the history you knew, it was only going to get worse.

“I didn’t mean to imply—“

“The keg is empty, I’m going to refill it,” she said instead, avoiding your gaze as she went into the inventory room.

“Grace.”

She stepped back into the doorway, her eyes still downcast. You waited for them to meet your eyes again before you continued.

“Just… be careful.”

Ada had disappeared. You nor Polly had heard from her since Freddie came back and proposed to her at the train station, ignoring Tommy’s request for them to flee the city.

So when a knock on your door startled you early in the morning, you were surprised to see the girl, who flew into your flat with a handful of white fabric.

“YN, you’ve got to help me.”

She threw everything in her hands to the bed as you asked if everything was okay.

Turning around, her grin answered that question for you. “I’m getting married this morning. You have to help me get ready. Please.”

Without another thought, you jump to start helping her. Her dress was beautiful white and ivory layered fabric that resembled very much what you imagined the women’s fashion was going to become. It was loose around her stomach, her baby bump finally prominent.

“Where are you gonna go after the ceremony?” you asked, helping her tie the back of her dress.

She sighed, “Nowhere.”

“But I thought Tommy—”

“Freddie won’t have it. He’s insistent we stay here for now at least,” she said, her previous bubbly mood falling.

“Well since you’re staying, are you sure you don’t Polly to be here now? I mean, it’s not every day you get married.”

She shook her head. “She’ll just try to stop me.”

“And you didn’t think I would?” you asked, half joking.

“I did.” Her answer surprised you. “I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I know that you and Tommy have been seein’ more of each other.”

“It’s all still pretty platonic,” you countered, fiddling with a piece of her jewelry. When she creased her brow at your use of phrase. You offered her a shrug. “We’ve kissed, but I just can’t tell what he wants. I don’t even know if it’s a good idea, I just… I can’t help myself.”

She gave you an empathetic smile, sitting with you on the bed as she took the jewelry out of your hand and replaced it with her own. “I may hate my brother right now, but I do love him. And I know him. I see glimpses of the boy he was before the war when he’s with you. Polly sees it too — we have a bet going on how long it’ll take before the two of you will make it official.”

Your mouth gaped at that, shaking your head. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment.”

She chuckled. “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t dare say anything to Tommy. He’s nearly as stubborn as I am.”

“Fine. But why then did you come here if you thought I was going to try and stop you?”

She paused, biting her lip before fastening her shoes. “Because you didn’t tell Tommy about Freddie. He was genuinely surprised when I told him. Honestly, I’d assumed you’d told him already—”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I know.” She offered you a smile before tilting her head. “And, I know you don’t normally like to talk about the deep things — at least, not with me — but… can I ask you, why?”

Ada hadn’t pried much into your life. It’d been one of the things you’d been more grateful for in your friendship.

Honestly, previously you had assumed she hadn’t pried because of her immaturity. She was very much a carefree, live-in-the-moment kind of girl, keeping most emotions and conversations at the surface level.

But the look on her face made you wonder if you hadn’t been giving the girl credit. Maybe she was all those things sometimes, but she really did surprise you on how sympathetic and slightly intuitive she could be when she wanted to. And maybe she’d always been aware of your aversions to personal prying this whole time.

You took her hand and offered her a sincere smile. “I moved around a lot growing up. I found it difficult to make friends, even through adulthood. When I first got here, you welcomed me in when I had no one. You helped me make the most of this life I found myself in and helped me miss my old life a little less. You welcomed me into your family and you were always there to remind me of a cheerier world. I’ll always be grateful to you.”

Ada pulled you into a hug. “I knew I made the right decision.”

You wiped away the small tear that’d rolled down your cheek as she pulled away, busing yourself with the final piece of the ensemble.

You stood up and began tying on her veil. It was so delicate and ornate, adorned with flowers around edge that matched the free spirit you’d always seen in your friend.

You stood her up and smoothed out her veil, then turned her to face you, your eyes scanning for any final touches. When you were done, you took a step back and covered your mouth, your smile bursting. Her own smile widened at your reaction, turning to appraise herself in your mirror.

“Oh Ada,” your heart was bursting, “you’re beautiful.”

She blushed, her grin wide and excitement infectious. Despite the circumstances of her fiance, you really were happy for Ada. As the first person who’d accepted you in this new world, you felt very protective and loyal to Ada.

It’d been why you kept her secret about Freddie from the rest of her family, and why you’d promised to wait and tell Polly until that afternoon, after you knew the ceremony was official.

While anxious, the matriarch had taken the news better than you expected. Though you guessed she was anticipating them getting married, what she hadn’t was Tommy’s deal with the Inspector to get Freddie out of the city.

Apparently, Polly’s attempt at ‘dealing with it peacefully’ hadn’t worked out the way she expected. Ada turned up at the Garrison flushed and out of breath, looking for either her brother or husband.

“They’re gonna kill each other,” she’d nearly cried when you grabbed her arm, stabilizing her as she bent forward.

“Ada, you need to calm down,” you tried to push the cup of water back into her hands. She breathed sharply as she rubbed her stomach. “This isn’t good for the baby.”

“I don’t care,” she said through a haggard breath. “I have to find them. I have to try—“

You followed her outside and kept up with her until Freddie emerged from the stairway of a canal bridge. She threw herself into him, and you urged him to take her home and make her rest. You watched from the side of the road as they crossed it.

“He’s going to ruin her life,” you heard Tommy’s deep voice behind you.

“You can’t keep doing that to her,” you said without turning around. You felt him move beside you, both of you still looking in the couple’s direction until they turned down an alleyway. “The stress isn’t good for the baby. She nearly passed out in the pub just now worried you two were going to kill each other—“

“I should have.”

“But you didn’t.”

He took a deep breath, “He loves her.”

Your eyes shifted over to finally look at him, his eyes still staring at the empty alleyway.

That was the first time he’d ever acknowledged their feelings for each other. You were convinced he thought Freddie was using Ada — hell, since they got back, you were tempted to start thinking that way too. It wasn’t a secret how dedicated he was to the communist party, and you knew most of the strikes around here were either spearheaded by Freddie himself, or encouraged by him. There were times you began to question what he loved more: Ada or his cause.

But time and time again, Ada assured you that their love was real and strong enough to combat even Tommy’s fire.

And now, it seemed, something had finally assured Tommy that Freddie wasn’t just in it for her last name.

“What convinced you?”

“When we were kids, Ada used to chase us around, shouting at us to slow down, to wait for her, to include her in our little games.” Tommy’s throat bobbled as you watched the reel move behind his eyes, lost in his childhood memories. “Freddie would always slow down. I never realized… or maybe I did.”

He blinked, breaking the trance he’d been in as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigarette. He ran it between his lips and lit it.

Blowing the smoke away, his eyes hardened.

”He asked about the guns,” he said, his voice low despite the relatively secluded spot. “You haven’t told Ada—“

“No,” you said firmly, not letting him finish his question.

He hummed approvingly. Another moment passed before he spoke again. “You never asked me why.”

Your brow creased as you tried to decipher what he meant.

“Freddie and me.” He blew out a puff of smoke. “I’ve seen you watch us, when we’ve been in the same rooms. You heard what he said in the pub the day Danny blew in. And I know Ada has told you how close we used to be. But you’ve never asked me why Freddie and I fell out.”

“You never offered,” you countered, meeting his eyes again. You crossed your arms, not sure what he was playing at with bringing this up now. When he brought the cigarette to his lips again, it was obvious he wanted you to continue. “I guess I just assumed you both returned from the war with different outlooks on the world. He doesn’t accept the powers-that-be and wants to change them.”

He hummed, blowing out his smoke. “And me?”

“Did you ever feel that way?” you found yourself asking, head tilted as you considered him. You hadn’t thought about it before, but it would have made sense. Freddie’s passions weren’t new, they were deep and rooted, and it would make sense for him to have been a member of the communist party either during the war or before. You were realizing now that there was a chance Tommy could have been entertaining the idea as well before he left.

The way Tommy’s lips tightened into a hard line and he lifted his chin told you enough. But surprisingly, he offered you a short answer. “Once. Before.”

“And now?” He didn’t answer that one. You took a deep breath as you continued. “Maybe you still don’t agree with the powers-that-be, but I don’t think it matters to you anymore. Freddie wants to change the world; you want to use it.”

“I won’t let ‘em put us back in the mud,” he said, his voice calloused as he stared forward. He swallowed, “I need a drink.”

Instead of walking toward the Garrison, where you knew Grace was closing up for the night, Tommy turned right, toward your apartment.

You felt your breath let out, not realizing you’d been tensed up since Ada had blown into the Garrison.

Catching up with Tommy, you decided to lighten the mood a little. “I’m gonna need to restock if you keep drinking all my whiskey,” you teased.

He let out a humored breath. “Well, next time you’re at the Garrison, just grab a bottle on me.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah Harry would love that.”

“Not up to Harry anymore what happens to the inventory.”

Tommy let out a puff of smoke as you turned back to face him before letting him into your flat.

“What do you mean?”

“I bought it.”

“What?—“ your brow creased as his words sunk in. “You bought the Garrison? Can you even do that?”

“I made Harry a very fair offer,” Tommy said plainly as he made himself comfortable in your flat. It was beginning to feel less strange to have company. “He’ll stay on for as long as he wants and still manage the place.”

You felt a pang of sadness for the former owner. Harry loved that place, and always had such pride for it and its patrons.

“But why?” You asked, starting to take your shoes off. Despite you traveling in time, there were still some little rituals that you just couldn’t shake. And taking your shoes off when you got home was one of them.

Tommy began to pour two glasses. “Arthur needs some direction.”

“A distraction, you mean.”

He rose his brow, but nodded. “Regardless. He needs to keep his head out of the bloody bottle and on the business. Besides, weren’t you the one who said we needed to find a way to pass the influx of money coming in from the shop?”

It’s true, you had raised that question to Tommy recently after the Monaghan Boy win. Not that you knew much more about money laundering than you’d learned from watching Breaking Bad. But it’d apparently been enough to pique Tommy’s interest and take you seriously.

Tommy was right though. What you’d been anticipating was finally coming to a head — Tommy was, for all intents and purposes, the head of the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders. Arthur, who had been feeling the effects of his slow descent for the past couple months, was drowning his sorrows almost daily and picking a fight whenever he got the chance. You’d even begun watering down his drinks by the time he’d get to through half a bottle on nights when you were working in the pub and he was working his way to being sloshed.

“You’ll have to help him,” Tommy spoke up after you didn’t comment.

You breathed out a disbelieving laugh, “Like Arthur would ever listen to me.”

“You’ll have to make him,” he took a step toward you and offered you your drink. When you met his eyes, he smirked, “Like you did me.”

You rose your brow. “You want me to nearly push him in the Cut and play a get-to-know-you drinking game with him?”

His smirk turned into a small smile, “Maybe not exactly like you did with me. But you’ll talk to him. You’ll reason with him. He’ll come to accept it.”

“You’ve been promising he’d come to accept me for months now,” you countered.

“And he has, you just haven’t noticed.”

You shook your head, still not convinced and beginning to worry about how you’d get along with Arthur now that you’d be essentially working for him.

“You two and can discuss the Garrison’s future at the next family meetin’.”

You rolled your eyes, half laughing at the comment. “The only reason Arthur invited me to the last one was to accuse me of influencing you. There’s no way he’d be cool with me coming to more—“

“He won’t have a choice.”

Your brow furrowed, “What does that mean?”

Tommy pulled your hand into his, causing you to stop pacing and stepped into you. The act surprised you, meeting his eyes again. They were soft, a small crease in the corners as he looked between your own, then to your lips.

“You’re mine, ‘member?” his deep voice vibrated against you as he reached up and ran his thumb across your cheek, then down to your chin. You got deja vu from that first night outside of your apartment building as he reminded you of the words you’d said to him Christmas Eve in his bed. “Well I’m yours. We’re in this together, ya?”

Your heart pounded at his words. Whatever hesitations or insecurities you’d been feeling were gone as Tommy held you against him, his eyes waiting for your response.

“Yeah,” you said easily, welcoming his lips to meet yours.

His kiss was soft, a gentle tug that showed no signs of being rushed, but savored. You hummed contently into it as you felt his lips smile against yours.

What was it about this man that made your brain go fuzzy and speech cease? Every time he brought his lips to yours, you felt like everything made sense. Like you weren’t standing in a room surrounded by puzzle pieces — but that the final piece was falling into place, even just for a moment. You laced your fingers through his hair, desperate to hold on to this feeling for as long as you could. Even if it was just a taste.

He pulled away slightly, his forehead rest against yours as you caught your breath. “Whatever we face, whether it’s Arthur or Ada—“

“Or Kimber or Campbell,” you added with a slight mocking mirth.

He breathed out a soft laugh and rolled his eyes. “Or whatever else might come our way — I know we can face it. Together.”

You lifted on your toes slightly to meet his lips again when a hard knock at your door caused you to jump.

You and Tommy looked to each other confused — no one aside from Tommy or Ada ever came to your apartment. A second knock prompted Tommy to take the lead in opening the door as you grabbed for your bag with Polly’s gun inside.

“Danny?” Tommy greeted opening the door wider for the formally dead man to come into your apartment.

Danny Owens gave you a shy smile and wave before offering Tommy a salute. “Danny Whizz-Bang reporting, sir.”

You dropped your bag, pointing at the man and looking between him and Tommy. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Tommy nodded, “at ease. What are you doing here, Danny?”

“Charlie said to try here if you weren’t at your place,” he said before taking a seat. Tommy offered him the bottle of whiskey and he poured himself a drink.

“So no one is gonna explain the very alive friend of yours sitting at my kitchen table?” you asked, still unsure what was going on.

Tommy took a deep breath before running his hand through his hair. “It was a trick to fool the Italians. Danny’s been living in London, keeping an ear out. Apparently, there’s news he couldn’t wait on.”

“I was in a pub,” Danny began, gripping the edge of his hat in his hands. “It’s called the Mother Redcap, an Irish pub. I was talking to some old bloke about Birmingham. He said there’s been trouble. An IRA man shot. He said a lot, but the only bit I heard was that their high command think it’s the Peaky Blinders who shot him. I came up on the next boat to warn you.”

“I heard about that guy,” you said softly. “It was outside of the Black Swan. Was it one of the men you met with the other day?”

Tommy nodded.

You thought about the way Grace had eavesdropped on the men, and how she’d been so interested on where they were from. Your brain ticked that there was a connection there, but you brushed it aside on the grounds that you were just searching for something to be horribly wrong with her. While you believed she still had some kind of secret, you didn’t think she’d go as far as shooting someone.

You looked down at your own hands, a vision of blood covering them from your own dirty deeds, and knowing that anything was possible.

“Is it true?” Danny asked, pulling your attention back to the men in front of you.

“No,” Tommy answered, taking a deep breath. “But lies travel faster than the truth.” He thought for a moment before gesturing toward Danny. “Get a message to them. Tell them to send someone to parley. Tell them there’s been a misunderstanding and we don’t want any trouble.”

Danny swallowed the rest of his drink before rising. He saluted Tommy again, then gave you a slight bow. “I will do my duty, sir. Ma’am.”

He left before you could ask anything more. “Tommy, what the hell—“

“Just another thing to add to the list,” he said, shaking his head as he grabbed his own glass and threw it back. “Right now, our focus is on Kimber. And tomorrow is Cheltenham. We’ve gotta be ready.”

>> next chapter: coming soon << chapter masterlist

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas Shelby x reader #tommy Shelby x oc #thomas Shelby x oc #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #time after time #mine #fanfic #fanfiction

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nicksbestie · 15 hours

Text

Kittens (part two) - M. Sturniolo

READ PART ONE FIRST!! YOU CAN READ IT HERE!

Summary : One specific person becomes a regular at the animal shelter you work at, always visiting the cats <3

Warnings : mentions of anxiety but nothing graphic!

Word Count : 1146

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader

A/N : part two!! this won't become a series but i felt it deserved a little more!! it's written in a later time, a epilogue scene, if you will!

The cats being in a different room that day had been one of the best things to ever happen to you.

You hadn’t known it at the time, but that conversation with Matt, starting by leading him to a separate room, had blossomed into a relationship. Matt had started coming back every day, coming up with stupid reasons to talk to you, claiming he needed help finding a cat that had run away, only for the cat to walk right out from under the tower when Matt walked back in, but you let him do it every time. You felt like you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend time with him, and if you weren’t busy, why should you?

He spent hours there every day, which made you wonder what he did for work, because how could he afford to not be at his job? After a couple of days where he came in one after another, you finally asked. It felt like a fair question because he clearly knew where you worked, so it was an eye for an eye, or something like that. He told you he did content creation with his brothers, and you looked him up later that evening, eyes nearly popping out of your head when you noticed just how famous they were. You weren’t someone who lived in the dark, but you didn’t keep up with every new thing going on, so there were a ton of famous people you didn’t know about.

You weren’t going to lie, you stalked him that night. One thing hit you like a truck when you noticed it, though. Matt had told you that he came into the shelter when his anxiety was getting bad, and he had been coming in every Wednesday and Friday per week, and as you scrolled through their shared YouTube, you noticed that’s when videos were posted. You wondered how much he enjoyed his job, or if he did it because it made good money, or if the posting just really got to him because he worried about what people would think. Later you would ask, and you would learn that the latter was the reason, and that he really did love his job, it just got to him sometimes, knowing that so many people would pick apart everything he had done or said in a video.

After about two weeks of him coming back to the shelter every single day, talking to you whenever he could, he finally asked for your number. He waited until you were off of the clock, making sure that he could never be accused of being unprofessional by anyone. He waited until the shelter closed, like normal, and you thought he had left, but he waited until you both stepped outside, and the door was locked, and then he asked. You let him have it with no complaints, and he texted you for the first time as soon as he got home, asking if you had also made it home safe. You responded much quicker than you would like to admit, letting him know you were home and safe.

He would text you before he would come into the shelter, letting you know that he was on the way, and you two became incredibly close. Hanging out outside of work, spending time while he was at the shelter, if you were in the same vicinity, you were practically attached at the hip. You met his brothers, and they were so different from him that it was refreshing. You loved how they all got along so well, and even their banter in videos wasn’t coming from a true point of anger, but all lighthearted. You watched every video as they got posted, and sometimes all four of you hung out together before or after filming. You loved being in their company, and you had found a wonderful friend in Matt, but you had no idea that it would eventually become more than that.

You’d hung out so much on your own, you knew you two worked together, you both knew that the other was attractive, you both knew that you liked the other. But you had no idea that it would eventually end up working out. Nick and Chris knew as well, being able to see it in the way that you interacted with each other. They kept it to themselves, allowing you two to navigate the developments of your relationship with each other by yourselves, but both of them were hoping that you would just get your head out of your ass already and get together. Matt was the first one to say anything.

You knew he found love gestures sweet, you’d seen that in a video, and you’d seen it in the way that he interacted with people he loved platonically, being a gift giver, but when he showed up at your door with flowers, you were still in shock. He’d stayed the night that evening, soaking in the fact that the person he felt so strongly for had the same feelings for him. It had only snowballed in the best possible way from there. You did everything together, you went everywhere together, and sometimes that could cause codependency problems, but you were lucky to not have to deal with that. You were used to him leaving for a couple of hours to film, but he always came back as quickly as possible.

It was refreshing for Matt to fall in love with someone who didn’t love him for the numbers, for the following, for the money, for the fame. This was someone who saw him off guard, who actually loved him for the person he was off of the camera, for all of the good in him and all of the bad. He wasn’t sure that he would ever find someone like this due to his popularity across the Internet, but he never took you for granted, not for a single moment. And those were the words that spilled out from between his lips, when he was knelt in front of you, ring box in hand, just three amazing years later, and the same ones that he would repeat at the altar six months after that.

You didn’t work at the animal shelter anymore, but you and Matt were regular visitors and volunteers. Some of the people that you used to work with were still there, and shortly after you were wed, you picked out a kitten together, from the same Cat Cottages that Matt used to sit in for hours every week. Glancing over at the man you’d fallen in love with, sitting on the couch with the now one year old black cat in his lap, you knew that had been the best job you would ever work, and it brought you something much more rewarding than the money.

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furuyalover · 1 day

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4:52 pm

— ft. kuroo tetsurou

includes: a cute lil impromptu study date

it’s april and we all know what that means, finals season. right now it’s just you, your laptop, numerous papers and notebooks, and an iced matcha latte enveloping you in the cozy cafe atmosphere. you’re trying study for your calculus test tomorrow and you’re pretty focused, for the most part.

about ten minutes ago you glance up from your studies where you notice a familiar face across the cafe, kuroo tetsurou. while you’re decently close with your classmate and you’ve made conversation with him numerous times, you figured both of you are too busy with your work for you to approach him right now. however you can’t seem to get the striking captain out of your head. you’ve always had an admiration for him but some would say it’s more like a crush… so after a solid 15 minutes of pretending to do work and pondering what to do, you finally decide to maybe shoot him a text!

y/n: hey am i tripping or is there an obnoxious volleyball player studying across from me?

kuroo: obnoxious is a strong word 😒 u also studying for the calc test? 😭

y/n: kind of …. not doin too hot rn

kuroo: oh well you’re in luck then

and just like that you glance up from your screen and notice him begin to gather his things and make his way towards you. the middle blocker plops himself down on a seat next to you and begins unpacking his bag. “don’t worry princess im here to save you from your calc demons.” your flutters a little at the sudden nickname, but you keep your composure with a quick retort “ok woah im not doing THAT bad.” “then why is your study guide blank?” damn, he got you there. “whatever you gonna help me or what?” since he’s a man of his word he opens his notebook helping you review what you’ve learned these past classes, and working you through each problem better than khan academy ever could. he’s concise but sweet, making sure to comfort you every time you’re overwhelmed or not sure how to solve a problem. you’ve never seen this side of him, you’re used to dealing with his cockiness and sarcasm and this caring demeanor is something new to you.

but just like that an hour and a half has gone by and you’ve both successfully gotten through all your homework! where did all the time go? you wondered to yourself. embarrassingly, you’re kind of upset that you’re study sesh has come to an end. you’ve always wanted to go out with kuroo outside of class, and this is the closest you’re ever gonna get to that. “oh well all good things must come to an end” kuroo says, almost defeated you thank him for all his help while you start packing your things.

“actually wait before you go,” you stop what you’re doing to look up at him, wondering what he possibly need. surely he’s just gonna ask about something from class right? wrong. hes flustered. almost red even. scratching the back of his neck he finally looks at you and says “i really enjoyed hanging out with you, and i just wondered if you wanted to do this again sometime?” you’ve never seen him so nervous before, so you let out a small smile with a slightly confused look on your face. “what, like study?” your smile ends up giving him reassurance and just like that his confident demeanor is back. he grabs your hand and says “well that’d be a pretty boring date don’t ya think?” grinning before placing a chaste kiss on your hand.

you look down to try and hide the rosy blush that now plastered your face (too late he already saw it). flustered by his sudden advance you look up and match his confidence arrogance with your own. “alright then, but if i don’t get an A on this test im rejecting you”

“oh like that’s ever gonna happen” you roll your eyes, but he has a point.

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

AN: ahhh this was so fun to write <3 love love loveee writing some friends/classmates to lovers drabbles !! hope u guys enjoyed this lil piece i whipped up :)

#game time!#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo testurou drabbles #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsurou headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #hq headcanons #hq x reader #hq fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsurou hcs #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo imagine

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writerblue275 · 2 days

Note

Hii may I request heartsteel lads and how first kisses goes?? :3

First kisses with Heartsteel!

Hi hi hi lovely anon, of course you can!! Thank you for requesting, this is such a cute idea! I’ll keep this to just first kisses, but I’ll definitely make a general kisses headcanon at some point.

Inspiration: Love a good first kiss moment.

Genre: Headcanon

Type: Fluff

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader!

TW: Swearing. Slight discussion of rebellious activities (lmao guess for which member).

Extra: Some of these I felt like I could keep completely in bullet form, but some others I felt required more set up, so there’s some prose interspersed.

Aphelios

Definitely happens further down the line when things are really getting serious. Aphelios just gives me the “takes it slow but he’s in it for the long haul” vibes (love it! You go king). It takes a while for him to let someone in, but once he does, you know you’re extremely important to him.

So you’ve been dating him maybe two-three months now. And while he hasn’t kissed you yet, there have been other kinds of physical moments (like hand holding, cheek kisses, slight cuddling, some pet names, that sort of thing) that have progressed that shows things are moving well in the right direction.

Not to mention the subtle things. Like the way he thumb lingers a little on the corner of your lips as he wipes away some ice cream your napkin missed. Or how he has to look away when you bite your lip. (Because he wants to be the one to do so. 😝) Just other subtle things that seem to signal Aphelios is ready to take that next physical step with you. You just have to figure out how to ask him in a way that won’t spook him.

One of the things you two do together? Well he’s teaching you sign language. Or at least the basics. He fully doesn’t expect you to sign all the time, hell he doesn’t even do that. But since he has to be careful to protect what remains of his voice, he does use sign language as one way of communication.

And you being the kind, wonderful partner that you are, you want to learn to sign too. Communication with your partner is so important and of course you want to be able to communicate with Aphelios as effectively as possible, so you asked him for help. (He’s so touched that you’re taking the time/making the effort to do that for him btw. Learning any new language is extremely difficult.)

So one night, after a date, when you two are just vibing together on the couch in his studio, you and Aphelios decide to play a little game that has become common for the two of you. You sign something and he grades your signing, telling/showing you what, if anything, you can do better. And for the most part it’s just been fairly basic signs and phrases.

But little does he know, you’ve been practicing more than just simple phrases at home.

Can I practice signing some questions?, you ask.

Yes, he signs. Of course! What do you have for me tonight, cutie?

You smile brightly and blush at the pet name, making him smile in response.

You start off with some basics. What is your name? How are you doing? Where are you from? Those sorts of questions. And you watch carefully as Aphelios helps you make any adjustments to clarify your signing.

“Phel, can I try and ask something more….personal? I-I want to make sure I have it down” You ask, your voice getting a little shy. You know you’re taking a risk, but you really like him and you just want to confirm he’s on the same page as you. That the connection you’ve felt isn’t just one-sided.

His eyebrows go up in surprise but he nods. Of course, he signs. What is it? You’ve really peaked his curiosity now. Especially with how shy you got.

So you take a deep breath to settle your nerves….and another one…before finally blushing deeply and signing, Will you kiss me? (You sign it flawlessly btw. You practiced for DAYS as you gathered the courage to ask him.)

His eyes widen and he blinks at you for a few moments, giving you a good clue that you did ask what you intended to.

As the silence drags on for a few moments longer and you see Aphelios try to process what you just asked, you fear you’ve made a terrible mistake of things and you start to just completely panic.

“Sh-shit Phel I’m so sorry! Oh god, I made you uncomfortable, didn’t I…Please forget I asked. Please forget I said anything! Oh I ruined everything…I’m so so so sorry. I’ll go. Please can we pretend like this didn’t happ-mm?”

You’re so frazzled and upset with yourself you didn’t even notice Phel sign absolutely yes before leaning over and kissing you slowly, his fingers threading in your hair, completely cutting off your panicked rambling.

And when he pulls away? This time you’re the one left staring at him in surprise, blinking rapidly for a few moments before smiling widely as he signs back to you, There. Now will you kiss me, please? And of course you’re more than happy to oblige. He said please, after all.

Ezreal

I think Ezreal would kiss earlier on in a relationship. His love language (giving) is physical touch and kisses are included in that. And of course with him, your first kiss is going to be fun and sweet because those are the vibes Ez gives off like 95% of the time.

In this instance the two of you are at an arcade for a date. You’ve noticed he’s been giving more and more signs that he wants to kiss you. Subtle (he thinks) glances down to your lips when the two of you are talking or the way his lips linger when he kisses you on the cheek after walking you to your door post-date. And well…you want to kiss him too. In fact you have a little plan to help move things along.

You asked Alune, who introduced the two of you, what Ezreal’s favorite arcade machine is before-hand and she immediately responded ski-ball. She told you he’s a god at ski-ball and how no one in Heartsteel will play with him anymore because he always wins. Always. His aim is just unmatched. (Though Phel is certainly practicing hard to beat him.)

So what do you do? You challenge Ezreal in ski-ball of course! But the stakes have to be raised. What’s the fun without some flirty competition?

Him: “And if I win? What do I get? Your tickets? Dinner? A kiss?” *Said with a little cocky smirk* (Of course.)

You: *grin widely at him* “Yeah sure, I’ll kiss you. Deal.”

Him: *His eyes wide and he’s very alert now* “Wait, actually??”

You: *smirks* “I mean what I say, Ezreal. You know that. Besides, I’m sure I’ll win, so why does it matter? You know how competitive I get.” (Muahaha, clever you. You got him hook, line, and sinker.)

Oh now it’s ON. He’s fully tuned in. You can tell his competitive nature made him play right into your plan. He wants that kiss.

And he’s absolutely going to get it. Ez is rolling a perfect game. Like it doesn’t take long for winning to be completely out of reach for you. So you pause to watch him, eventually starting to laugh before just going for it, leaning over and kissing him deeply (of course it’s just as he sinks the shot to break the high score record on the machine).

And once he gets over the initial surprise, he very eagerly kisses you back, one of his hands cupping your cheek. And the kiss lasts for a lovely few moments before you gently pull back and smile widely at him.

“If you wanted to kiss me to badly,” you let out on a giggle, “you could have just asked, you know. Hopefully I won’t have to knowingly embarrass myself at ski-ball again to get another kiss from you.”

Ezreal laughs shyly and kisses you again, letting his arms wrap around you. “Of course not. Happy to kiss yo- wait a second did you say ‘knowingly?’ What do you mean? How’d you even know I love ski-ball? I didn’t tell you that.”

You grin. “How do you think? Alune told me! I asked her what your favorite arcade machine was. It was clear I needed to take matters into my own hands since though I could tell you wanted to kiss me, you’re such a gentleman,” you tease playfully before kissing his cheek.

Somewhere else in the city, Alune starts laughing loudly, surprising a gaming Aphelios, as she receives a text message from Ezreal:

Ezreal: Name anything you want. Dead serious. I don’t care what, it’s yours. You’re the BEST. THANK YOU!!!

Alune: 😂 Holding you to that. Glad (Y/N)’s plan worked!

Ezreal: 👍👍

Kayn

Something tells me that Kayn would kiss earlier on in a relationship. Not that it’s a bad thing! I definitely don’t think it is. And he wouldn’t do so unless he thought you returned his feelings. He’s a rebel, not an asshole. He’d never force himself on someone.

All that aside, there is something to be said for Kayn’s recklessness playing into his first kiss with you.

I don’t think it would happen on a planned date. Kayn strikes me as more of a “go with the flow” sort of guy, at least until things are getting serious. Then he’d actually plan out dates. Otherwise spending time with him early on in your relationship consists of him calling or texting you and saying, “Hey, I’m doing ______ tonight or tomorrow. Want to come with? Food’s on me?”

And these “things” can range from errands (he just like being in your presence, ok?) to actual events like concerts or other things like that.

And ok, like 90% of what Kayn calls you for are things that are law-abiding. But there is that 10%. That piece of him who still loves to rebel and do things for the adrenaline. Don’t worry though, when you do those sorts of things with him, he won’t let you get in trouble. He’s a pro.

In this case, the two of you are sitting on a random roof in the city after going around and doing things you definitely shouldn’t be doing. (On a completely unrelated note: A couple city cop cars have some lovely new colorful decorations on them.)

And the two of you are just quietly laughing together and watching the moon, the adrenaline from the shenanigans you two participated in still going through your veins.

And Kayn looks over at you, admiring how attractive you look and how happy you make him. And he can’t help it as he reaches over and takes your hand. When you don’t pull away, he just quietly says “Ah fuck it…” and goes for it. He leans over, gently tangling his free hand in your hair, and kisses you absolutely breathless.

Kayn can’t help but chuckle once he pulls away as he sees the slightly dazed (but very happy) expression on your face.

And once you finally get your wits back about you and go to return the favor, he’s so relieved you feel the same way as him.

K’Sante

Not the earliest member to have a first kiss with their partner, but definitely not the latest. K'Sante is for sure somewhere in the middle.

And with K'Sante? Your first kiss with him is almost a little...accidental? Not in a bad way, but the circumstances surrounding just were slightly unexpected.

But the chemistry between the two of you is undeniable. You can definitely feel a lovely sort of tension building in your mundane acts of physical affection. But neither of you have taken the final step to kiss the other person yet.

But that’s about to change. K'Sante is taking you out on the town for the night. The evening starts with a really delicious dinner at a really really nice restaurant (where of course he made a reservation because this man PLANS).

This is then followed up by getting ice cream and him driving the two of you to a secluded point that overlooks the city. You two can just enjoy each other's company (as well as the yummy ice cream) while he also plays some music from a little bluetooth speaker he brought that connects to his phone and relaxing on a lovely picnic blanket he has in his trunk. (1000000/10 vibes like oh my god?)

Now something that K'Sante does, he uses his phone as little as possible on dates with you. He wants to be fully present in the moment and enjoy what moments he can when he's with you.

So that's why he's so surprised when he turns on his phone to play music (since he had it off during dinner and the drive with you) to find 7 missed calls from Alune.

"Shit," he murmurs.

“Everything ok, K’Sante?” You ask, feeling concerned as you take in his furrowed brow.

“Looks like I have a bunch of missed calls from our manager. Normally she doesn’t call me unless something is wrong….”

“Uh oh…and since she called so many times….Call her back. I don’t mind,” You tell him.

“You sure? I don’t want to be disrespectful,” he says.

This makes you smile. “K’Sante, you are one of the most respectful people I know. Checking to see if there’s an emergency isn’t disrespecting me,” you reassure him.

And after another minute or two of warring with himself, he does. He realizes he wouldn’t be able to stop worrying about what’s going on if he didn’t, and that’s not fair to you. He puts the phone on speaker. Since it’s affecting your date, he figures you might as well get to learn what’s going on too.

As Alune picks up the call, you hear her groan. “Finally, K’Sante! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours! Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

“Alune, I told you I had a date with (Y/N) tonight. I’m still on the date, actually, and you’re on speaker,” he chuckles.

“Hi!” You shyly say.

You hear Alune sigh. “Hi, (Y/N)! I apologize. I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. I just have really exciting news for K’Sante and I wanted to tell him as soon as possible.”

“And you couldn’t leave a message??” K’Sante asks.

“And miss your live reaction to this? Or at least your audible reaction? Absolutely not! (Y/N), would you like to hear it too? It’s actually better that you’re with him so he has someone to celebrate with!”

You perk up and smile at K’Sante, relieved nothing is wrong and beyond curious what the news is. “Sure!! I won’t tell anyone either so don’t worry about that.”

K’Sante drums his fingers on the ground impatiently. “Alright Alune, spit it out. What am I celebrating?”

“K’Sante, they accepted your design for the up-and-coming designer show during Spring/Summer Fashion Week! And not only that, but they want YOU to walk in it! You get to model your own design!”

You gasp and squeeze his hand as she reveals the amazing news, your eyes locked on his expression. “K’Sante!!! Holy shit that’s amazing!! They’re so lucky to have you in their show!” As you talk, you can see just the biggest flurry of emotions playing over his features as he’s stunned silent, his eyes locked on yours.

You laugh softly, “Alune, I think you might have broken him. He’s just staring at me.” You smile widely back at him and go to hug him.

As you get closer, it’s like he’s finally back in his own body, and his expression lands on pure joy as he leans over and cups your cheeks, kissing you deeply for a moment before pulling you into a tight hug and starting to laugh happily.

And your brain is now short circuiting in the best way possible because omg YES FINALLY. And as you pull back from the hug, you gently brush your lips over his and whisper happily, “Congratulations, K’Sante. You deserve this.”

“I know you mean the Fashion Week stuff, but can that sentiment also apply to your kisses? Because I’ll be honest that was pretty great too,” he says as he quickly hangs up on Alune.

You just laugh and nod before kissing him again as your answer.

Sett

While I don’t think Sett would kiss super early on in a relationship, I also don’t think he’d take the longest either. Like maybe a few dates in? Whenever he feels things starting to really get serious with you. And this would be after some earlier physical things like hand holding or kisses on the cheek, etc, and he’s letting you dictate the pace of anything physical. (Once again repeat after me: “Ma didn’t raise a jackass.”)

But anyway, as you’ve gotten to know Sett better, he’s shown you different facets of himself. Like for example, you know he’s fit as fuck (I mean you see the evidence right in front of you lmao) but one of the things you might not have known initially is that he is an excellent boxer. (A/N: We know this because base lore and the MV and shit but think from the perspective of a new partner.)

And while he doesn’t fight other people super often anymore due to his profession, he occasionally accepts a challenge from someone. (Much to Alune’s chagrin. Makeup can only hide so many injuries.)

So let’s say Sett accepts a challenge and he invites you to watch the fight with the rest of Heartsteel. (He absolutely wants to show off for you.)

And at his invitation, you go and visit him in his locker room before the fight, just to show him you made it ok and to wish him luck. “Not that I think you’ll need it, Sett. You’ll kick his ass, I’m sure.”

That makes him laugh and banishes away any lingering doubts/nervousness in his mind. “Well of course I’ll kick his ass. He’s fighting “The Boss” after all. There’s a reason I have that nickname. Besides, you’re here. Like I told you, you’re my good luck charm. With you cheering me on he doesn’t stand a chance.”

As Sett is talking you see his eyes flash briefly down to your lips a couple times. But he doesn’t say anything further. So you take the initiative. It’s not like you don’t want to kiss him. You absolutely do.

“Hey Sett?” you ask, feeling bold. “Would you…like a kiss for good luck? You know…so I can make sure my good luck charm potential is fully maximized?”

And you can tell by his smile and happy eyes that yes. Yes he would like a kiss for good luck actually. (Though his eager nodding definitely gives it away the most 😂.) So you give him one. And it’s sweet and happy and leaves both of you smiling and giggling/chuckling a bit once you pull away.

Oh Sett’s opponent doesn’t stand a fucking chance now. (Not that he did before but still.)

Yone

I definitely see Yone as one of, if not the most reserved member of Heartsteel (it's a race between him and Aphelios), so it’d take the longest to get to the point of a first kiss with him.

Not that he doesn’t want to kiss you earlier on. He absolutely does. But the very last thing he wants to do is to come on too strong or go too fast and scare you away. He really really likes you, after all.

A lot of what goes into Yone’s decision of finally going for it has to do with your body language. He’s looking for a sign that clearly says “ok yes, this person likes me back, I’m not crazy.”

As for the first kiss itself, it happens after a couple months with him, when he’s driving you home.

You can tell Yone wants to take that step and kiss you. You’ve noticed his gaze occasionally linger on your lips when he’s talking with you. Or the slight swallow he does whenever you bite your bottom lip while thinking. (Not to mention the slight twinge of pink that goes to his cheeks. Only you can get that reaction out of him.)

And suddenly you realize, he hasn’t kissed you yet not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s such a damn gentleman and doesn’t want to come on too strong and make you uncomfortable. He wants a sign that you’re ok with him kissing you.

So once he parks the car in front of your building, you lean over, lace your fingers with his, and gently kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger for just a moment longer than what might be considered purely friendly/platonic. Then you whisper in his ear, loathe to break the comforting silence in his car, “You’re not as subtle as you think, Yone. I know you want to kiss me. I also want to kiss you so-”

You don’t even get to finish your thought before Yone’s hands are cupping your jaw and he’s leaned across the center console, kissing you breathless. And my god is it lovely. Sweet but still filled with a surprising amount of passion for a man who presents such a stoic facade to the world. You can’t help but grin like a happy fool once he gently pulls away.

He chuckles at your reaction, but internally his heart is racing. Kissing you was even better than he thought it would be (and his expectations were high).

He clears his throat and looks away shyly for a second as he regains his composure. “Forgive me for interrupting you…but would it be alright if I did that again in the future?”

His question makes you laugh and you lean back over to him and peck his lips. “Yone, you are more than welcome to do that anytime you’d like…you’ll hear no complaints from me.”

Thanks for reading! I absolutely loved getting this request and I hope I did it justice, anon! Got to play into some fun ideas here. 💙

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel x reader #reader insert #headcanon #requested #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone #heartsteel fluff #league of legends #thank you for requesting anon!!#this was so fun to write #I enjoyed thinking of scenarios for each of them.

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