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noosayog · 6 months

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[my first task!] ft. miya atsumu

synopsis: inspired by the series, Old Enough? basically, in Japan, it's common practice to entrust a toddler an errand to perform all by themselves, such as fetching something from the store. sometimes, in a small village or closely knit neighborhood, all the shopkeepers and neighborhood residents are aware of when the toddler will be out and all work together to watch over them and guide them.

wc: 2.6k

“Are ya sure she has to do this today?”

“‘Tsumu, we’ve already done all the preparation. Let’s just let her try, hm?”

He grumbles, but moves to his assigned location at the dining table, where your daughter is already sitting, swinging her legs in anticipation of her favorite Omurice lunch.

You bring the plates of food over to the table and set one down at each of your seats. You give Atsumu a pointed look which he ignores. You clear your throat and give him a hard nudge.

“Ow,” he complains. He gives you one last pleading look which you leave unanswered.

He sighs and recites his scripted lines. “Oh honey, what about the ketchup drawings?” he asks you in monotone.

You tap a finger at your chin, looking up at the ceiling to feign deep thought. “Oh no! I think we ran out of ketchup!” You bring a palm up to cover your mouth, gaping open in dismay.

“No ketchup drawing? How can I possibly eat Omurice without the ketchup drawing?”

“Oh no,” you turn to your daughter. “We can’t have Omurice without ketchup can we?”

“No, we can’t!” your daughter exclaims.

“Well baby, do you think you can go to the store and get some ketchup for us? Just like how you do it when you go with Mommy.”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement at the prospect of going out. “Me?”

“Yep, Daddy and I are so busy, we can’t go. Can we rely on you?”

“Sure!” she chirps.

So a few short moments later, you and Atsumu have strapped her little purse on her torso, containing just enough coins to purchase a bottle of ketchup and a card with your phone number on it, just in case. Atsumu laces her shoes up and gives her a kiss on the cheek. You think you see his eyes misting over.

You speak up. “Just to the store we always go to, okay? Mommy’s counting on you!” This was supposed to have been Atsumu’s line, but you can tell that the dam is about to burst so you help him out.

“You’ll do great,” he chokes out. “I’ll see you when you come home with ketchup so Daddy can have his Omurice. Okay?”

She nods, enthusiastic and completely unaware of Atsumu’s turmoil. With that, she’s out the door and Atsumu barely waits one minute before he’s following, sticking to his own plan to trail her on her first errand.

The route has been prepped ahead of time. All the neighbors and the local store owners have been informed of your daughter’s first errand to ensure her success. In addition, all of Atsumu’s teammates, old and new, showed up to guide her along.

So as Atsumu trails behind her toddling figure, hiding comically behind fences and walls, there’s really no need for him to intervene.

She first passess the local cafe, where Bokuto, Hinata, and Sakusa sit at a table strategically located by the open window facing the sidewalk. As she walks by, she recognizes them instantly, straying from her path to the store. Bokuto sits her on his lap while Hinata listens to her babble and Sakusa buys her an apple juice. After a couple minutes of chatting, Sakusa gently pats her and asks, “so why are you out here by yourself?”

“Oh!” she clammors out of Bokuto’s arms, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be out on a mission. “I’m going to the store to buy ketchup for Mommy and Daddy. They’re counting on me.”

Hinata nods profusely. “You better be off then!”

“You should finish your juice first, though. Adults don’t waste food,” Sakusa tells her.

She nods, happy to sip the remaining juice from the cup, then sets on her way afoot.

The trio at the cafe watch her go, shaking their heads when they notice their setter conspicuously following close behind.

Next is Onigiri Miya.

Well, technically, next was supposed to be the florist on the main street, but the little Miya had seen the street that Onigiri Miya is on and took the turn out of habit. But no matter – you and Atsumu had foreseen this, so a team is at the ready there too.

Suna sits at the counter seat closest to the door to keep watch. When he sees her rounding the corner, he signals Osamu who comes out from behind the counter to greet her at the door.

“Heya, baby,” picking up her easily when she runs into her Uncle’s arms.

“Hi Uncle ‘Samu! Hi Rin-chan!” She greets Suna over Osamu’s shoulder.

Suna grins, “hey stink.”

“‘M not stinky!”

Osamu carries her into the restaurant and deposits her on the counter seat next to Suna’s. He rounds back into the kitchen where he begins shaping a miniature version of her favorite onigiri. She kicks her feet, completely at ease in the restaurant and blissfully forgetful of her task at hand. When the plate is deposited in front of her, she chirps out a quick thank you before digging in.

After chatting Suna up for a bit, Osamu finally cuts in.

“So, what are ya doing out here all by yourself?”

“Dunno!” she giggles.

Suna coughs a bit, giving Osamu a look which Osamu returns pointedly.

“Soooo… you decided to have lunch here without your dad and mom?”

She ponders this for a bit, before lighting up. “Oh yeah! Mommy made Omurice but Daddy forgot to buy the ketchup so I’m here to get it.”

Osamu’s eyes widen comically. “All by yourself?”

She nods sagely. “‘M a big girl now. Mommy is countin’ on me.”

“Well, ya better get going then. Yer silly dad will be waitin’ for ya.”

She agrees, hopping her to her feet. The two follow her to the door to see her off, holding the door open for her walk through. She gets halfway back the way she came when she turns around and grins toothily at the two.

“Thanks for the onigiri, uncle! Love ya!”

Osamu smiles and waves her off. Behind him, Suna holds out his phone, pointing the camera at the little girl’s retreating back, making sure to focus on the suspicious figure donning sunglasses, a mask, and MSBY jackals baseball cap tailing her. He sends it to the group chat warning the next team to watch out for a stalker.

Your daughter finds her way back to the intersection on the main road. She needs to take a left to continue her route to the supermarket. As she stands at the crossroads, she frowns, not quite remembering where she needs to go. She takes a right.

There, she bumps into the legs of Kageyama and Hoshiumi who are stationed at the intersection.

“Sorry,” she starts, craning her neck to get a better look at her obstacles.

“No worries,” Kageyama says, taking a step back.

Hoshiumi then strikes up a conversation with Kageyama, reading out the practiced lines.

“Hey, we need to go to the supermarket right?”

Your daughter’s ears perk up at that.

“Yeah. It’s that – ” Kageyama points dramatically “– way.”

“Ohhhh, I see,” Hoshiumi puts a hand up to theatrically mimic covering his eyes from the sun and squints the way Kageyama is pointing.

Your daughter nods to herself at that and turns around to walk in the correct direction this time.

When she gets far enough away, Hoshiumi shows Kageyama the text in the group chat.

“Stalker?” Kageyama reads, scrunching his face. “Should we –”

“Nah,” Hoshiumi cuts him off and points at the stalker in question, going the same way the little girl just went.

“Ah.” Tobio understands, noticing the peek of dyed blond hair from under the baseball cap.

At last, she arrives at the grocery store. This is familiar ground, so she wanders into the store and meanders the aisles, getting distracted by the array of colors in the snack section. She’s running her hands along all the biscuit options, contemplating how she can fit all the items she wants in her two hands when she hears someone clear their throat from above her.

This time, it’s Aran who waves a gentle hello to her.

“Aran-kun!” she exclaims, forgetting about the snacks and running up to hug his legs.

He chuckles and pats her head.

“Hi there. Are ya looking for something in particular?”

Once again, she thinks. She’s sure there must be a reason she’s in the store but can’t quite remember.

“I think so?”

“Hm, okay. Wanna go shopping with me until you remember what yer looking for?”

“M’kay!”

She grabs Aran’s hand and swings them as he guides her to the aisle with the condiments. There, she inspects the colorful array of sauces, eyes sparkling. Aran pretends to look for his own items, hovering a hand over the ketchup bottles and waving his fingers in the general area until she remembers. Her eyes hone in on the red bottle and she remembers her poor father, still unable to eat his lunch without ketchup.

“Aran-kun! I’m here for ketchup!”

“‘That so? Well, here ya go, then.” He picks up the bottle of the brand he knows you use and plops it right into her hands.

“Not this one,” she shakes her head. “Mommy wants that one.”

She points at the bottle next to the one Aran grabbed. They’re identical.

Unbothered, Aran switches out the bottle in her hands with the one she wants. “Sorry ‘bout that. All good now?”

“Yep!”

“Ready to go check out, then?”

She nods. He continues to walk her to the registers. Once the lines are in sight, she lets go of his fingers and darts over to the nearest line. But not before bowing a polite thank you to Aran.

At the register, she greets the attendant watching him scan the bottle and showing her the total amount owed.

“That’ll be 200 yen.”

She reaches into her purse and pours out all the coins onto the counter, not entirely sure what she needs to offer. The cashier picks out a few coins and deposits the rest back into her coin purse, allowing her to tuck the coin purse back into her bag and zip the purse securely before asking if she wants a bag.

“Yes, please!”

With a plastic baggie in hand, she makes her way to the exit. Aran catches her before and tucks a small box of pocky into her bag, pushing a finger to his lips and winking at her. “Keep it a secret from yer mom. Get home safe!”

She mimics his gesture and nods. With one last bear hug to Aran’s legs, she’s off.

Outside the store, Kita waits for her. She spots his white hair easily. Of all her uncles (excluding Osamu, of course), Kita is her favorite. She runs over to him, bag swinging carelessly behind her. Kita catches her and gives her a little spin before setting her back on the ground.

“Hiya, Uncle Shin!”

“Hey there. What’cha got in there?” he asks, pointing at the bag.

“Ketchup! Daddy forgot to buy more and he can’t eat Omurice without it, so Mommy’s countin’ on me to get it.”

Kita rests a hand on her head. “That’s real impressive of ya, to come to the store to get it all by yourself.”

She glows in his praise, rare but genuine.

“Going home now, Uncle Shin.”

“Alright,” he responds. “I need something from that way, so I’ll walk ya part ways.”

She beams and follows Kita in the direction of your home.

“Uncle Shin?”

“Yeah, bug?”

“Can I eat my pocky? Aran-kun bought it for me.”

He crouches down to her eye level. “Can I have some?” he asks seriously.

“Yeah!”

“Then, alright. But let’s go sit down at that bench over there, okay? It’s rude to eat and walk.”

“Okay!”

So the two take a detour, sitting at the bench to watch the birds hobble by while sharing the box of strawberry pocky. A certain stalker watches in envy from behind the trees.

Once the box is depleted, Kita wipes her fingers down with some wet wipes he keeps in his pocket and tosses out the trash. They continue on their way, Kita sticking with her until they pass the confusing intersection (where Kageyama and Hoshiumi bow slightly at the sight of Kita) and the cafe (where the MSBY trio nod in acknowledgement).

When the house is only a couple more feet away, Kita once again crouches down. “Alright, I gotta go my own way from here. Do ya think ya can make it home all by yourself?”

“Yep, thanks Uncle Shin!”

“Sure. I’m proud of ya, bug.”

She squirms a bit, overwhelmed by the praise she gets from her favorite uncle. The ketchup bounces in its bag by her side as she skips all the way back home.

After fishing out her own key and unlocking the front door, Atsumu is there to greet her at the genkan, scoping her up and squeezing her tight, the ketchup bag forgotten on the floor.

“There’s my girl!”

“Daddy!” she laughs.

“Welcome home,” you greet, tummy warming at the sight of your two Miyas.

“Mommy!” she squirms in Atsumu’s arms signaling for him to let her down. He obliges and she picks up the plastic bag to wave in your face. “I got the ketchup! Now daddy can eat his lunch!”

“Wow, great job! And all by yourself!”

You usher her over to the table as she babbles about her day.

“I saw Shoyo-chan, Bokkun, Omi-chan, Uncle ‘Samu, Rin-chan, Aran-kun, and Uncle Shin too!”

“Wow, sounds like you had a great day. Did you have fun?”

“Yep!”

Atsumu, who has since changed out of his stalker gear, slumps into his seat at the table, back to grumbling about his cold omurice and how it would’ve still been hot if he had quickly gone with his daughter to get it.

You throw him a bone by asking your daughter, “Did you miss Daddy on your trip?”

“What do you mean?”

You almost choke out a laugh; kids are ruthless sometimes.

“Why would I miss Daddy? He was there the whole time.”

Atsumu sputters. “What do ya mean? I was at home waiting for ya the whole time.”

“Daddy’s a liar,” she whispers in your ear. “I saw him, but he was wearin’ some weird clothes. Like covering his face.”

You break into a fit of giggles. “Your daddy’s really silly, isn’t he?”

Atsumu can hear everything. “Hey!”

“Daddy was following you because he was just a bit worried about you going by yourself. But he’s really proud of you. Right?”

Atsumu rounds the table to crouch besides your daughter’s seat. “Yeah. But you did so well. I’m so proud of ya.”

Her eyes light up at the praise. She throws her arms around his neck and wiggles in her seat a bit.

“Well, great job and since you got the ketchup for us, all your favorite uncles can now join us for lunch too.”

At that, each of today’s helpers emerge from the kitchen holding their own plates of Omurice, all undecorated. You figure it might be a good time to introduce her to Kageyama and Hoshiumi too, but she’s distracted by Kita and Osamu offering their omelets to her to decorate with the ketchup.

As she goes around the table and draws ketchup hearts and stars on each omelet, you wander over to Atsumu’s side whose eyes are getting watery again, watching her brag to each of them that the ketchup they’re about to eat is her ketchup.

“What’s wrong, ‘Tsumu?”

“Nothin,” he hastily swipes at his eyes. “‘M not crying.”

“I never said you were,” you say gently. You wind your arm around his waist and lean into him, rubbing circles into his back. His body closes around you instinctively.

“She’s just growing up so fast, ya know.”

“I know.”

“Soon, she won’t need me – us – anymore.”

“Aww, ‘Tsumu. Yeah, she’ll grow up but…”

He looks at you when you trail off.

You reach up to whisper in his ears. “We could always just make another one.”

#noos writes #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x y/n #hq fluff #hq imagines #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu miya x reader #hq atsumu

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navybrat817 · 9 months

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He's wondering when you're gonna stop doing your boring work and do him instead

Of course, he is. 😏

Clocking Out

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky makes it difficult for you to get any work done.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, implied smutty times, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

A/N: Late submission for Week 7 of Hot Bucky Summer for @buckybarnesevents ! Prompt - "Who's this?". ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. But thanks to @rookthorne for the inspiration. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You narrowed your eyes in concentration on your laptop screen, the clicking of your keyboard the only sound in your in-home office. You typically worked with some kind of background noise, whether it be music or even the television at a low volume. It helped the day go by faster. At some point though, Bucky ventured in and shut your playlist off to ask some random question.

"Who's this?" he asked as he shoved his phone in your face and blocked your view of the monitor. "And what is FYP? What the hell does that mean?"

You had to giggle after a moment. Your boyfriend had a habit of interrupting you while you worked to get some form of attention. It happened more times than you could count and you were lucky you got any work done at all when he was home. He told you in passing that after being alone for so long that he wanted to soak up every moment he could with you.

I can't get mad when he puts it that way.

"It means 'For You Page' and I have no clue who that is," you answered, gently pushing his hand away so you could get back to typing. "Why are you on TikTok, old man?"

"Why are you?" he asked, taking a seat on the loveseat near your desk. "Is this what you look at to get inspiration for your smut or whatever it is that you call it?"

"Hey!" you said, pushing away from your desk to turn and face him. "I write stories, thank you very much. Some of them just happen to include smut and there is nothing wrong with that."

Bucky had an all too smug expression on his face when he leaned back against the cushion and widened his massive thighs. He took up almost the entire two-seater sofa with his size. The gorgeous bastard finished up his workout earlier and didn't bother getting fully dressed after his shower. Just a new pair of sweatpants and no shirt, his long hair still slightly damp and daring you to run his fingers through it.

Showing off his broad torso like a harlot.

"Sorry. You're right. You do tell stories and they are wonderful," he said, holding up his hands on surrender. His steel blue eyes had a hint of playfulness as he nodded to your laptop. "You almost done with your 'porn with plot' or should I come back later?"

You rolled your eyes as you spun away from him and pulled yourself back to your desk. "You're impossible. Turn my music back on and go back to watching TikTok videos."

"Or you could take a break and ride me," he suggested so casually your fingers froze on the keyboard. "Give you the motivation you need to finish."

With a defiant lift of your chin, you went back to typing. You did like his idea and it wouldn't be the first time you stopped writing to have Bucky pull an orgasm or two from you. The only reason you got a bigger desk was so he could fit under it. The image of him nearly getting stuck under your old desk brought a smile to your face.

It also caused a tingling sensation between your legs when you remembered just how deep he stabbed his tongue into your aching pussy.

"You can't ignore me, doll. Look at you. Already distracted and shifting in your chair," he said, his voice low. He knew exactly how it affected you. "So get over here."

Nope. His thick cock can wait for me to take a ride.

"Bet you're not even working," he accused. It wasn't true. There were words on the screen. "You're typing just to look busy when we both know you're getting your seat wet through your clothes."

"Don't you have work to do yourself?" you asked incredulously, refusing to look over at him. If you did, you'd go right to him and he'd win. Both of you would win, but that wasn't the point. He cut into your work time when you couldn't cut into his.

It's not like I can show up in the middle of a mission and demand to suck his cock.

"If by 'work' you mean your delicious cunt, yeah. I have a lot of work to do," he said. The unsubtle man he was, you knew he was about two seconds away from taking himself out and stroking his perfect cock. Anyone who said perfection didn't exist hadn't slept with Bucky Barnes. "I'll do overtime and you can pay me in orgasms."

Your head fell back against your chair with a groan. "Where is your off switch?"

"No off switch around you, doll. Only an on switch. You're lucky I don't knock stuff off the end tables since I'm practically a walking hard-on around you."

The sincerity in his statement had you beaming and laughing all at once. You wondered if something in the serum sent his libido into overdrive or if it was you who brought that side of him out. It did wonders for your self-esteem because no matter how you looked, he gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to grace this planet.

A small break wouldn't hurt.

"If I step away for a few minutes," you began as you stared at the ceiling. "You have to transcribe the next few paragraphs for me so I can lay down and recover."

"Deal," he said, leaning over and gripping the chair handle to turn you toward him. "But I'm warning you. If you dirty talk, I'm gonna get hard all over again and we'll be right back where we started."

"It can't be any worse than the time you had me in your lap," you said as you lifted your head. He couldn't stop himself from running his hands along your body or kissing your neck. And that was before he had you warm his cock. "Don't look so smug. You owe me an orgasm."

"Yes, ma'am," he smirked.

Lucky for you, Bucky always delivered on his promises.

We can't resist Bucky, can we? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x female!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #biteofcherry #hotbuckysummer2023

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year

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Eddie Calls Wayne "Dad"

{ i 100% wrote this for @friendly-jester because it was their birthday and THEY DIDN'T TELL MEEEEEEE!!! so yeah this happened for them! Happy Belated birthday day yet again dearest!!! }

The first time Eddie calls Wayne "dad" he's 7 years old. He wakes to this small boy, teary eyed and shaking, clutching the little stuffed black cat Wayne had won him at the fair the first month he'd been here. His little hand on Wayne's shoulder wakes him. Warm and gentle. Almost too gentle. Wayne knows it's because he's afraid Wayne will get mad. He's only been here a year and half, and he's getting better. But he's still skittish. Wayne clears his thoat of sleep and blinks up at the boy.

"What is it son?" He calls him that all the time. He knows Eddie's not his. But he is. He is to Wayne. He is now. Eddie sniffles, wipes at his little nose with the back of his hand and says,

"I h-had a nightmare Daddy." And he's crawling up onto the cot with Wayne before Wayne has time to open his arms for him.

He scoots back, makes room for the kid. Throws his blanket back and then coveres them both back up as Eddie snuggles into his pillow. He holds the little cat up to Wayne. Wayne kisses it's head, like always, and Eddie smiles a teary smile, holding it close. He's already almost back to sleep. Wayne rubs at his head gently. Soothes him. And lowers his head back to his pillow, hand resting on Eddie's small shoulder as he falls back to sleep as well.

Eddie doesn't remember the nightmare in the morning. Just asks Wayne if he missed him when he wakes up in Wayne's bed. Wayne laughs and says,

"Yep kiddo. Missed you so much I had to bring ya in here with me." And Eddie giggles, grabbing his cat and shuffling to his room.

But Wayne sees the look he gives him, a small sideways glance after the smile fades. Wayne's pretty sure Eddie remembers just fine. But he grew up, at least partly, he's not grown yet, in a house full of anger and secrets.

Wayne is sure Eddie is keeping things to himself because he doesn't want Wayne to have to worry. Wayne is also pretty sure that this boy is smarter than he could ever dream of being. He watches Eddie shuffle back out in his school clothes. Just a black t-shirt and black jeans. He rubs his hands over his eyes and pulls his shoes on. Sits at the table and eats the toast Wayne made in silence.

Wayne doesn't know what to say to him. Has never been much of a talker. So he sits silently too. And when he's finished he walks past Eddie, ruffles his hair, and asks him if he's ready for school. Eddie smiles brightly and grabs his backback, yelling something about how they're supposed to be learning about dragons today. Wayne is pretty sure he means dinosaurs, but Wayne had also been informed by a very stern Eddie that dinosaurs were just dragons without fire and wings.

~°~

The second time it happens is before the talent show. Eddie is nervous. Bouncing on the balls of his feet next to Gareth and Jeff as they watch the Cunningham girl do some cheer and gymnastics across the stage. Eddie is watching her, but Wayne can tell he's only half paying attention. Wayne clears his throat from behind them, grabbing their attention. All three of them turn, Eddie's face lighting up when he sees Wayne, he bounds into his arms.

"You made it!" He whispers loudly into Wayne's shoulder as they collide. Wayne catches him easily. His arms wraping around Eddie, he's still so small, Wayne's not sure he'll grow much more. He hopes not. His mother was small too. He wants Eddie to have that from her. He smiles tho, giving him a squeeze.

"Almost didn't. Traffic was a bitch on 75." Wayne mutters. Eddie pulls back with a laugh, holding Wayne's shoulders.

"But you made it."

"I did." Wayne nods. Eddie smiles. The Cunningham girl's act ends, the curtains close. She comes running in their direction, bumping into Eddie and turning as she runs, calling out,

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Good luck out there!" And then she dissappears into a group of laughing girls. Eddie mutters a nervous 'thanks', holding his guitar in his hand, his knuckles are white. Wayne grabs a hold of his neck as Gareth and the others help get there stuff center stage. Eddie's eyes are wide, there's fear, but also excitement.

"You're gonna do great. And I know this is a long shot for you, but try to stay focused." He winks at Eddie, gets that huge smile in return. Eddie's missing a tooth. He'd told Wayne it had just finally fallen out. But Wayne had seen the scrap on his face. Let Eddie have the lie.

Eddie holds his guitar close, moving it into position and jogs out onto the stage, calling over his shoulder,

"Thanks dad!" It's said without thought or realization. And then he's out there. And the curtains open, and him and his friends do their thing. And Wayne's not into the hard metal like Eddie is. But he likes the music his boy makes. Because as loud and scary as it may be to some people, his boy puts his heart into it. Like he does with everything. Wayne could watch him play music with his friends all day.

They dont win. But they hadn't entered to win. They just wanted to play on stage. Wayne takes them all out for pizza after. A few of their parents come along. The smiles on all their faces as they eat and shout and laugh warms Wayne's heart. Eddie had found these boys, like rescuing strays. Wayne could never articulate how proud he was, not in words, or any other way. So he just rests his arm on the back Eddie's chair, squeezes his shoulder and smiles back when Eddie beams at him.

~°~

The third time it happens. Eddie's a junior. He comes home dripping blood from his face. He storms past Wayne and shuts himself in the bathroom. Wayne can hear him sobbing. Hears him cursing. But he waits.

Eddie finally comes out of the bathroom. Stops in the hall. His shoulders hung. They shake for a moment. And then stop. He turns, his face bruised, his eyes glassy, but there's something in them, under the sadness. Defiance. He takes a step toward Wayne. Takes a deep breathe, and sighs.

"I'm a fucking idiot." He says, shaking his head. Wayne smiles a little, shakes his head.

"Now I know that ain't true. You wanna tell me what happened?" He folds the newspaper on his lap, throws it on the coffee table. Eddie swallows, hard, stares at Wayne. And Wayne can see fear in his eyes again. It's been years since he looked at Wayne with fear in his eyes.

"Go on. Ya know I'm listenin." He folds his hands in his lap, never looks away from his nephew. And Eddie, he does the thing he's best at, he throws Wayne a fucking curve ball.

"I'm gay. And I kissed a boy. The wrong one. Turns out. He said he was the right one. He kissed me back. This was..." Eddie crosses his arms defensively, looking toward the ceiling, thinking,

"Three days ago? And today he punched me in the face when I said hi to him in the bathroom. And then his friend punched me because I apparently I attacked his friend? Which I didn't." Wayne watches his hands fist in his shirt as he speaks, his arms tightening around himself.

"He said he liked me. I- I don't know what happened." His arms fall, he looks defeated. His chest shakes as he tries not to cry. Wayne stands, too quickly, Eddie flinches back. Wayne opens his palms, holds them out to Eddie as he moves closer. Eddie's trembling by the time Wayne gets his arms around him. Eddie sobs against him, clutching at Wayne, his fingers almost painful. Wayne tries to sooth him, moves his hand over Eddie's back slowly.

"He said he liked me dad. Why did he do that?" Eddie cries into his shirt. Wayne grimaces, holds him tigher. Fights the urge to leave Eddie here and go find this boy. Make him feel the pain he's caused Eddie.

"I don't know son. But hey, look at me." He pulls back, Eddie looks at him, reluctantly.

"He's an asshole if he doesn't know how good he's got it with you. Yeah?" Wayne says, watches so many emotions fly across Eddie's face it almost makes him dizzy. He settles on confused, maybe a little wary.

"You- you're not mad? Y-you don't hate me?" His voice hitches, and Wayne immediately shakes his head.

"Nothin. And I mean nothin, you could ever do, would ever make me hate you. You hear me?" Wayne grabs his shoulders, gives him a little shake, for emphasis.

"Mhmm." Eddie hums.

"Hmm?" Wayne hums back.

"Yes sir." Eddie sniffles, wipes at his nose. The same way he'd done all those years ago when he'd woken Wayne.

"Good. Now listen, cuz I want you to hear me okay?"

Eddie nods.

"Ain't nothin wrong with likin what you like. You just gotta be careful. And safe. Because people round here. They are small minded. And vindictive. And they will hurt you. But hey," he moves his hands to Eddie's neck, bending a little to look him right in the eyes.

"I am so proud of you. And your mama woulda been proud too. Okay? You trust me?" He frowns, hoping he'd said everything right. Said everything the way his mother would have wanted. Eddie's crying again, but he's smiling. He nods again, enthusiastically, his hair shaking wildly.

"You know I love you?" Eddie snorts.

"Yeah. Love you too." And then he's in Wayne's arms again. And Wayne just sighs. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it. The way Eddie would look at boys. But he never said a word. Knew Eddie would tell him if, and when, he was ready. And today was that day. He hugged Eddie closer and then pulled away.

"Pizza?" Wayne asks, already reaching for the phone.

"Uugghh GOD yes!!" Eddie groans, wiping at his face as he falls on the coach, Wayne smiles into the phone until there's an answer on the other line.

~°~

The fourth time it happens it's because Wayne is telling Steve secrets. Secrets that eddie had sworn him to go to the grave with. And then he breaks out the fucking photo albums, like some fucking romantic comedy. Eddie had told him he was dating Harrington about a week ago. Wayne told him they were having a family dinner on Sunday, so he could, and wayne smiles at the memory, "officially meet his boe."

Eddie had groaned at the choice of words, but his cheeks were red and his eyes were shining with delight. Wayne didn't know exactly what happened, but he knew the Harrington boy had saved his son. And he knew that he was always leaving Eddie's room just as Wayne showed up to sit with him in the hospital.

He wasn't always alone, but he was always there. And then he'd... stayed. Eddie talked about him constantly. To say Wayne was shocked that Eddie had fallen in love with a Harrington, would be an understatement. But he'd seen them together a few times, lingering glances, soft smiles, and on one occasion the dorkiest bout of laughter Wayne had ever heard come from Eddie. They were so different, but they worked.

So wayne was showing him the few baby photos he had of Eddie. Sent in the mail from his sister before she passed. One of them, his favorite, was of a four year old Eddie, sitting naked in the middle of a creek, holding a box turtle on the top of his head, his hair a curly mop, the biggest smile on his face. Wayne could hear his sisters laugh every time he looked at the photo. And he cherished it, knowing it was probably one of very few genuinely happy moments Eddie and his mother had had.

He happily points the picture out to Steve, who coos and cackles over it. Eddie falls to the floor dramatically, his face shoved into the carpet.

"Oh my gooooooddddd daaad! Seriously?!?" His voice is muffled, but Wayne hears him, smiles when Steve looks between them, Steve smiles back.

"You were so cute Eds!" Steve says gleefully, then he turns to Eddie, nugdes his toe into Eddie's thigh.

"What happened?"

Wayne laughs then. A real laugh. He laughs over Eddie's undignified squawking.

"Hey! This was supposed to be a nice dinner and now I'm under attack! It's two against one, suddenly, how's that fair!?" He flops over on the floor, looking up at both of them, crossing his arms over his chest as they both laugh at him. He's putting up a good front but there's a smile sneaking its way onto his face, and then Steve snorts while he's laughing and Eddie loses it.

All of them laugh together until they're red in the face. Eddie ends up with his hand curled around Steve's calf, Steve leaning over, his hand on Eddie's shoulder. Everytime the laughter dies down Eddie snorts, mocking Steve, and it starts all over again. Wayne laughs and watches the two boys in his kitchen, laughing and laughing and feeling at home.

~°~

It happens off and on with time of course. But the most important time it happens, for Wayne anyway, is in the Byers backyard in October.

It's 1989. Halloween day. And their backyard is decked out to the nines. But it's not Halloween they're celebrating. It's a wedding.

An illegal one. But no one attending cares about that. Not here. Not with everyone smiling, and Jonathan taking pictures. And the banner Will had drawn for them hanging against the side of the house, full of music, and bats, and dragons, and magic, and Steve and Eddie.

El tosses flower petels as she walks down the makeshift aisle, tossing them playfully above her head, Steve is waiting in front of the crowd, looking nervous in his tux. His suit jacket is black, but the shirt underneath is a bright, warm, yellow. He watches El with a smile, laughing when she tosses flowers over his head, letting them fall around him. She kisses his cheek and takes her seat, wiggling in next to Will. He smiles at her and takes her hand, giving it a squeeze.

And then the music starts. Some Dio ballad Wayne had heard a thousand times. Steve and Eddie had clamed it as their own. Eddie walks next to him, his arm looped through Wayne's, he's wearing a deep red suit, it's almost blood red, his shirt underneath is black, and the pants are jeans, deep red jeans.

Joyce had pinned his hair up on his head, loose, stray strands falling out around his head. El had made him a flower crown out of dandelions, Eddie had been wearing it since she gave it to him this morning. The yellow matched Steve's shirt perfectly.

Wayne looks at him as they walk, his smile blinding at he sees Steve. He looks beautiful. So much like his mother. And so, so happy. Wayne rests his hand over Eddie's on his arm as they walk towards Steve. Wayne smiles when Steve gives Eddie a little wave, wiggling his fingers as they move closer. Eddie giggles, it's high pitched and a little manic, and so Eddie. Wayne and Eddie stop in front of Steve and Hopper asks,

"So, who's giving the lovely bride away today?" He's wearing a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, his hair all slicked back, everyone chuckles, but Eddie sobers fast, turns to look at Wayne.

"He is. My dad is." He smiles, big and bright, and a tear falls down his cheek. Wayne wipes it away with his knuckle, his face feeling flushed from all the attention suddenly on him.

"Guess that's me." He mumbles. Steve and Eddie laugh.

"Take good care of him son. I know you will." Wayne says to Steve. Steve is already nodding. His hands wobbling at his sides and Wayne knows he's trying not to reach out to Eddie. Eddie gives Wayne a quick hug, whispers a sweet,

"Thank you. For everything." In his ear, and then he's stepping up to stand in front of steve.

There's tears. And laughter. Especially when Eddie pulls out a piece of paper and says,

"Let's see what Will came up with shall we?"

But the vows are his. Wayne knows. They're full of Eddie, his words, and his mind, his soul, and his heart. That big heart that Wayne fell in love with so damn fast.

The first time he'd watched little 6 year old Eddie pick up a bug that had gotten into the trailer and carry it outside, all the while telling the thing that it was gonna be okay, that he wouldn't hurt it. Wayne loved him so much.

But he also knew, the only other person who loved Eddie even close to how much he did, was, by some odd fucking miracle, Steve Harrington. And that's why, when Steve came asking for permission. Wayne immediately said yes. And when Steve mentioned picking out the perfect ring, needing it to be right for Eddie. Wayne had opened a box he hadn't opened in years, and he'd given Steve an old ring of Eddie's mother's.

He had planned on giving it to Eddie when he wanted to ask someone. But this was better. This was perfect. Steve had cried, and thanked him. And he'd asked Eddie to marry him three days later.

They were sitting on the roof of the trailer. Eddie was telling him stories about the stars. Steve had slipped the ring on his finger and given him a look. The watery smile Eddie gave him, along with the nodding, gave Steve his answer. He'd pulled Eddie into a kiss and that had been that.

Eddie had given him a ring a month later. A golden band, simple, with golden leaves etched into it. And on the inside. The words "my salvation" in black. Steve had cried. It was perfect. He'd saved Eddie. In so many ways. The most important one, obviously being... literally. But there were other times too. Recovery was hard. But Steve was strong. Strong for both of them.

So Wayne watches Max carry the rings down the aisle to them on a small black pillow, watches Hopper marry them. Watches them cry, and laugh, and dance. Watches Eddie dance with Max until they're both laughing too hard to stand up straight any longer. Watches Steve and Robin dance until they're crying into each other shoulders, Eddie and Nancy dancing near by, ready to jump in if they're needed.

He watches Eddie and the family he'd found. The family that loved him. The family he'd dragged Wayne into, weather he liked it or not. And for the most part. He liked it.

He watched his son dance with his husband, and smiled to himself, his attention only moving on when Ms. Henderson sits next him at the table, her hand landing on his arm, friendly and warm.

"You did a great job with him Wayne. He's such a good boy." Her eyes are a little teary as she watches Dustin and Eddie jump around and headbang to some metal song that's come on.

"Thank you ma'am." Wayne nods, his cheeks flushing. He reaches into his pocket, hands her a hanky for her tears.

"Oh! Thank you." Wayne's not sure if he's imagining it, but she looks flushed as well.

"I don't know of you remember me or not. But we had-"

"English. Fifth period. Mrs. Fitzgerald. I remember." Wayne says immediately. His eyes widening at himself, he clears his throat and looks away when she laughs.

She's about to say something when she hears Dustin yell for her. And then she's gone, being pulled onto the dance floor by her son. Wayne sighs, watches her dance until he notices movements in his peripherals. He turns a bit, sees Steve and Eddie, their arms wrapped around each other, looking at him.

Both of them nodding toward Mrs. Henderson and making faces, Eddie tries to break away to get to Wayne but Steve holds him back with a laugh as Wayne hold his hands up. He rolls his eyes at them when they nod toward her again, grumpy little faces telling him if he doesn't do it, they will.

He takes a deep breathe, puts his hands on his knees, and pushes himself out of his seat. He takes a step onto the dance floor, towards Dustin and his mother, and his next adventure.

#Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steddie #steddie ficlet #long blurb #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #uncle wayne #wayne munson #eddie and wayne munson #my writing #mine #my fic #stranger things fic

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writingsfromhome · 2 months

Text

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

Taglist - leave me a message if you’d like to join it :)

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #asks #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #dos and donts #ahhh #i didn’t edit this too much it all kind of came out at once #so ignore any errors #hope this is fun to read #it was fun to write

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apomaro-mellow · 3 months

Text

Hot for Teacher(s)

Part 1/? Read on AO3

Omegaverse modern au where steddie are both teachers. Eddie is teaching single omega Steve's son.

Eddie let out a satisfied sigh as the latest parent left his classroom. Parent/teacher conferences were always a tad stressful, even if there was no tangible reason to be. Most of his kids were doing well in all their subjects. There were only a couple behavioral outliers but Eddie knew that those parents rarely showed up but from professional and personal experience.

The main reason he didn't look forward to these was how selective kids could be with the information they shared. More than once in his years, a parent would arrive with a bone to pick about a problem that was apparently happening in the classroom that Eddie had no idea was occurring. These kids came up to him ten times a day to tell him what their little sister had for lunch two days ago but god forbid they admit when they have a problem with another student.

Today's appointments had mostly been smooth, though. It typically wasn't the quote unquote problem children whose parents showed up anyway. He just had one more person to go and then he could run out the clock fixing up his room until he was allowed to go.

He double checked the name. Shawn Harrington. Good kid. Bright, active, and it sounded like their parent had arrived.

"Mr. Munson? Hi, I'm Shawn's dad."

Eddie looked up to see a total smoke show.

"Hi", he cleared his throat when it squeaked out. "Nice to meet you, come in, have a seat." Eddie had Shawn's folder ready, like the other kids to show any work that should be highlighted, as well as his grades up on his laptop. "So did you have any concerns or worries about Shawn?"

Eddie quickly went in autopilot. It was the only way he was going to get through this. He was going to keep his eyes from drifting to that smooth sweep of this man's hair. He wasn't going to hyperfocus on his pretty lips. He wasn't going to gaze deeply into those chocolate brown eyes. He wasn't going to flare his nostrils to take in more of his scent. And he definitely wasn't going to check his fingers for any rings.

Bare hands.

Very nice hands.

They had a nice, brief conversation about the student's progress, and Eddie couldn't help but give him a glowing review. Even if Mr. Harrington wasn't totally hot, his kid was a wonder at times.

"He listens and pays attention well, always raising his hand to answer questions. If you don't mind me saying so, he just seems really prepared for school."

Which was saying something when many of the other first graders were still asking things like 'do we have to do math?' or 'are we going home today?' Eddie remembered being little and having pretty much no control over his life, so he could relate to the tiny ones still getting the hang of school. But kids like Shawn were a breath of fresh air.

"He did pretty well in kindergarten and I put him in daycare pretty early", Mr. Harrington said. "He gets really excited for school and I can tell he really likes you so far."

His smile could have blinded Eddie. He wanted to gush on just to keep seeing that smile.

"That means a lot, thank you." It wasn't a strong stigma but sometimes people got iffy over an alpha teaching children so young. It was thought they needed the 'gentler' hand of an omega. His eyes drifted back down to Mr. Harrington's hands. Yep, there was no ring there.

Now Eddie would never ask out or even flirt with a parent. That was off limits. But you know, if he got a little creative with his fantasies... well, you can't go to jail for thought crimes.

They said their parting words and Eddie was definitely not watching that ass in those khaki slacks. God, was there anything more cliche than him being a teacher and having the hots for a parent? He tried to keep his mind off it as he fixed up his classroom. He wouldn't even be seeing the guy that much. Not unless something came up with Shawn. And that kid was kind of an angel.

It was Friday, so once he was done, he went home to enjoy his weekend. Come Monday, there was a cacophony of voices. Half talking to each other and the other half trying to both greet him good morning and get right into another conversation. Eddie took it all with a smile.

"Mr. Munson, did you tell my mom about my butterfly!?", Theresa exclaimed, pointing to their bulletin board where their work hung.

"Mr. Munson, I got cheez-its in my lunch today", Victoria said, opening up said lunch box.

"Did you really talk to our parents?", Walker asked, arms crossed.

"Most of them", Eddie answered once they gave him a breath to speak.

"He talked to my dad", Shawn said. "And he said you said I was good."

"That I did", Eddie nodded, watching them as they put their coats and bookbags away. Theresa and Walker were known to fight over hooks.

"Mr. Munson, did you know my dad is a teacher too?", Shawn asked.

"I did not know that. Explains why you're so ready for school."

"Yeah, we practiced", Shawn said as he sat down to get started on the warm up.

Eddie raised a brow, wanting to ask what he meant by that, but his attention was grabbed when there was a shriek and a cry from Yasmin. He steeled his nerves for the day. He would need the fortitude.

-------------------------

When Steve walked into the classroom to meet Mr. Munson, he didn't know what to expect. He regretted missing Back to School Night, but his had been on the same evening and as a teacher, he couldn't miss it. But Shawn had nothing but good things. So he went in with optimism.

And was met with a gorgeous, gorgeous man sitting at the teacher's desk. For a second, Steve was sure he had the wrong room.

"Mr. Munson? Hi, I'm Shawn's dad."

His hair was pulled back in a bun and Steve's first thought was how it must look when it was down. Honestly, Steve couldn't tell you exactly what he had said. His tongue felt twisted the whole time as did his stomach. But Mr. Munson was smiling through it all and hadn't brought up anything bad about Shawn, so Steve must really be selling it.

He wanted to say that Mr. Munson's praise meant the world to him. That it wasn't always easy to bring up a kid as a single omega parent. But that felt too personal for a first meeting. And mentioning he was single would probably be too forward. When it ended, they shook hands, allowing Steve to get just a little close. He caught a whiff of his scent and instantly wanted more. At least enough to pinpoint what it reminded him off.

But he had to let go just as quickly and then leave without lingering. He was NOT going to be the type of parent that made goo-goo eyes at his child's teacher. It wasn't like Shawn needed the leg up and Steve was done with his slut era. So even thought Mr. Munson could definitely get it, he was absolutely off limits.

And if Steve went home and immediately put the rest of the school year's events in his own calendar, that was simply because he was an amazing dad and for no other reason.

Part 2

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #nothin like the smell of fresh new fic #and with this one i get to vent about my job #hoorah #this is mostly fluff w/some dramaaaa

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nattyswann · 3 months

Text

I’m not that bad. Am I?

Parings: sub!reader x dom!ace

Warnings: not really any warnings because most of this is just bickering between Ace and y/n but there is a bit of smut at the end!

Summary: if there was one thing you absolutely despised, it was pirates. You’ve encountered a few of them and they all were horrible people. Well…except the most recent one you’ve met..

• You can still remember the first time you met him. You hated his guts. Couldn’t stand the way he carried himself and how sweet he was to everyone around him. Well..the truth is you only really hated him cause you knew he was a pirate.

• “Can you guys believe it?! Firefist Ace is in the center of town, fighting a group of bandits!” Now, this you had to see. You followed the group of people. When you finally pushed your way through the large crowd, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Ace was putting those bandits on their asses. He used his crazy devil fruit power to handle them like they were ants. “Are you ready to admit it?”

• The leader of the bandit crew got up but he seemed like he was in rough shape after going a few rounds with Ace. “Screw you!” The bandit yelled out before charging at Ace. “Come on. Have you learned nothing!” Ace yelled back as he sent a Firefist straight at the wicked man. “All I needed you to do was admit that you tried to steal this young lady’s coin bag. This all could have been avoided.” Ace blew the tiny flame from his pointer finger as if it were a gun he just fired.

• The residents of your town cheered for Ace while he tried to make his exit less heroic as possible. “Please.” He held a hand up as he scratched the back of his head. “No need to thank me.” The townspeople continued their joyous cheers and applause. Ace hated this part of saving people. The part where they all surround him to offer him gifts to show their thanks. Ace just wanted to be a good guy and then go on his way.

• Ace got through the people and tried to waved them off but as soon as he turned around, there was a second large group of people. Now this was the part that he LOVED. The part where all the young ladies of the town came to thank him. “That was so heroic! Thank you for saving me.” The woman he defended rubbed his arm as she thanked him. “You are so strong. Where are you from?” Another woman asked while she stroked his long hair. You watched as the women fell head over heals for him. You weren’t like them though. Cause you knew his secret.

• When Ace finally got away from the village and out of sight from everyone he pulled out his log post. “Dammit. How much longer is this gonna take. I can’t stay on this island anymore. I need to set sail.” Just then another young woman approached him. That young woman being you. “Set sail?”

• Ace jumped up when he heard the voice of a woman behind him. He quickly shoved the log post back in his bag and looked over his shoulder to face you. “Oh, hey there.” He flashed you a smile. “What are you doing so far away from your town? Won’t they be upset if your wandering alone?” You didn’t respond as you just glared at him. You didn’t like him and wasn’t gonna fall for his charms like all the other townspeople and helpless damsels. “I know what you are.” You crossed your arms. “You’re a pirate. No better than the dirt on the bottom of my shoe.”

• “Oh? That’s really what you think?” “Yep. Im not sure why you’re even here.” Ace scoffed and his smile quickly went away. “Someone’s daddy raised them with a complex.” You furrowed your eyebrows at his statement. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” “It means that you think you’re better than me just because I’m a pirate.” Ace put his backpack on and strutted past you to start walking back towards the village. “Where do you think you’re going?”

• “Dont worry about me so much. Im just a lowly pirate after all.”

• Ohhh this guy was grinding your gears. You didn’t wanna allow him to just walk back into town but who were you to try to stop a crazy pirate. He could snap and attack a girl like you. If only you really knew what ace was thinking. He was never gonna hurt you. He would never hurt a women. He actually liked you. Thought you were really pretty.

• A few hours later and nightfall had come. Ace needed a place to settle for the night before he can take off tomorrow morning. He keeps walking throughout the town, in hopes of finding a sign that is welcoming a overnight stay. When he finally arrived at a building that had a sign that said one night there was only 40 berries, he couldn’t pass up that deal. Upon walking in, he got greeted by two women and he gave them a smile before bowing. When he lifted his head, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the face he was seeing. It was you! It was the pretty chick who was all mad at him earlier. Who woulda guessed that her parents owned this inn? Small village, huh?

• Once Ace got his room he began to settle in before hearing a light knock on his door. When he opened it, another smile creeped on his face. “We have got to stop meeting like this.” He said as he leaned on the doorway. “I don’t wanna meet you at all. In any circumstance.” He gave you a confused look while he tilted his head. “Yet…you came to my door..”

• “I work here. I still have a job to do.” You then forced a smile back at him. “Could I get you anything else before you turn in for the night? A glass of water or a snack before bed, perhaps?” You said through your gritted teeth. You couldn’t believe that you had to do this. If anything, you wanted to punch him in his face and curse him out for tricking your parents like their fools. “Mhhh.” He put his finger on his chin as if he were actually thinking. “I could use some company tonight. It gets lonely on the seas. So I haven’t spend the night with a women in a long time.”

• That was it. The last straw that made you snap. You took your hand and slapped it across his face. Ace was clearly caught off guard for a moment but he remained nice and let his smile return to his face. “You’re strong..” The man put a hand over the spot you slapped before continuing. “but I think you misunderstood me. I only want someone to talk too. Nothing more, I promise.”

• You scoffed but then thought about it. This was actually perfect. All you had to do was give him a few minutes of your time and then you ask him for a favor. That favor being to stay away and never return back here. “If I talk with you then you have to promise me that you will pack up and leave by the morning.” You said as you stomped your foot. “So if I promise to leave by the morning, you will stay here and keep me company?” You nodded your head and awaited his answer.

• “Deal.” He opened the door more for you to come inside. “Come in. Let’s talk.”

• You both sat and talked for about ten minutes until ace managed to slip in a compliment that caught you way off guard. You tried to hide the sudden blush that appeared on your face but Ace caught a peak of it.

• “I see ya’ blushing over there.” You hid your face and turned away from the man. “Barely! You must think I’m easy.” “Not at all, hun. I just think you’re really beautiful when you get all shy like that.” He put his elbow on the armrest of the car he sat in and leaned on his the palm of his hand while staring at you. “I also think you’re beautiful when you get all mad at me.”

• You guys sat for longer and just talked and talked about various different things. “This was nice. I surprisingly enjoyed this talk.” You quietly said. “I have been quite lonely and don’t really find much people to talk to besides my parents and the occasional fling. So thank you.” The tension in the room had started heating up way faster than you had expected. For some reason you had started to feel attraction for this pirate. When talking wasn’t enough to smooth the loneliness in each other’s hearts, Ace took it a step further and put a hand on your thigh. “Just know that you don’t have to be lonely all the time.”

• When you felt him reach your skin, you jumped a bit but let him rest his hand there. He was sort of right. You hated sleeping in an empty bed at night. So maybe tonight you didn’t HAVE to be alone. Needless to say, one thing led to another and now he has you right where he wanted you. In his bed with his hands roaming your body. “I can’t believe I’m letting this happen.” You grunted. Ace immediately paused and leaned up. “If you don’t want too then that’s fine. You can leave and I wont follow.” He put his hands up and gave you an opportunity to dip if you changed your mind. When you remained in the bed, Ace smirked and kissed you on the lips. “I knew you wanted me.”

• “Shh. Don’t be too loud, baby.” Fast forward a few minutes later, here Ace was - whispering in your ear while he rocked his hips into yours. “Your mother and father are just on the other side of this wall, aren’t they? What would happen if they found out their innocent daughter were gettting fucked by a pirate?” You wanted to hate him so badly but the way he was abusing your hole felt too euphoric. How could you betray yourself and let a pirate like him smooth talk his way between your legs.

• “Aghh!” You groaned out before ace could quickly put a hand over your mouth. “This isn’t working. I need you to be more silent for me or else we’ll get caught.” You reached up to remove ace’s hand from your face. “I can’t, Ace..it’s too much.” Your sentences came out all moany and broken but the way you said his name got Ace all riled up.

• “Really?” You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your skin. “I could have swore I was no more than a dirty pirate to you. Now, you wanna moan my name?”

• You shook your head and tried to suck up your tears, not wanting Ace to see you crying from pleasure. “Stop it. It’s not like I like you or anything! I just..” you tried to think of how to word it to where he won’t get his ego fed. “I just wanted someone to make me feel good. I haven’t felt this good in a long time, Ace.”

• Ugh. Why would you tell him that. Out of all the other ways you could have worded that. Ace giggled and kissed you sloppily on the neck. “I bet you haven’t. You’ve never been fucked by a pirate before. I’m glad I’m your first one.”

• “Don’t get cocky. It’s not like you have my virginity.” “Don’t need it.” Ace took his hands and started fondling your tits while ever so often, suckling on your sensitive nipples. “I’m just glad I got to have you in general. You’re such a prize, babe.” The pirate didn’t let up on his fast strokes into your womb. He was minutes away from bursting inside but he needed to wait until you came for him. Ace had to make sure he exceeded your standards and make sure you change your mind about pirates.

• “Mmhh! Ace I’m c-cumming!” You wrapped your arms around his back to hold him closer. “Feels so good!” When Ace felt your pussy squeeze him and squirt on his cock, he had to pull out before he accidentally let himself go inside you. “Come on. Finish cumming on my cock so I can cum too. I’m almost there!”

• “Not inside!” Ace shushed you. “I know babygirl. Just let me take care of you.” He said as he swiftly pulled out and started stroking himself to finish on your body, painting your stomach in his white liquid. “See? Your pirate boy knows exactly what you want.”

• When you felt the bed shift and caught Ace standing up, you whined. “What are you doing?” He turned to you and giggled at your cute voice and expression. “Well we had a deal. Didn’t we?” He started putting his clothes on. “You told me to hit the road right after.” He looked back over at you and hated seeing the upset look you had. “Unless…you would rather I stay..?” “I mean..you did pay for a full night..it would be a waste of berries.”

• He threw his clothes back on the ground and hopped back in the bed with you. “Ah. So you actually like this little pirate?” You chuckled and covered your blush. “N-No! I just…think I judged you a bit too harshly..” you felt embarrassed to say it but you were wrong. Maybe not ALL pirates are bad..

#one piece smut #portgas d ace smut #ace x reader #ace smut #smut

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ray4hotchner · 9 months

Text

Reckless

❀ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: aaron hotchner x reader

❀ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Y/N, a team member of the BAU, faces her past during a challenging case. Struggling to cope, Y/N's impulsive actions strain her relationship with Hotch.

❀ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.5k

❀ 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: Hi everyone, I finally caved in and wrote something on my own. This is my first fic, so let me know what you think

❀ 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕔: @iyv-ray24

On Ao3

Normally, Y/N was one of the last people to board the jet after a case. Not this time though. She didn't wait for the team and drove straight from the sheriff's station to the airport once the case was wrapping up. It had been a couple of stressful days, and everyone was exhausted. However, Y/N was not only exhausted but also very, very pissed – pissed at the team, pissed at herself, but most importantly, at Hotch.

This case was not easy for any of them. Three girls between the ages of 9 and 13 were abducted, horribly abused, and killed before their bodies were dumped in different local parks in the city. The BAU was called in when the third child was missing, but unfortunately, they arrived way too late. Now, the fourth girl, Casandra Johnson, an 11-year-old, was missing.

Most of the times, Y/N wouldn't have problems with distancing herself emotionally from cases, but this one just hit too close to home. Her little baby sister was abducted from their front porch when she was 9. Y/N herself was only a teenager at that time, and she was the one babysitting her sister. Just a couple of minutes of distraction, and her baby sister was gone forever. They found her body a week later, and the man who killed her luckily got caught, but Y/N never forgave herself and lived every day with the guilt of letting her sister down.

Yep, the team knew all about this stuff. They were familiar with each other's messed-up pasts and traumas; they were like a close-knit family, after all. So, when Penelope started laying out all the details about the case, she could feel her teammates' eyes on her. Sure, it wasn't easy to stare at pictures of innocent little girls and remember what happened to her own sister, but that wasn't going to stop her from getting her job done. She was a pro at this, and as far as she was concerned, this was just another case.

She found herself in the tiny kitchenette of the jet, pouring a cup of coffee, when Hotch walked over.

"Hey, want some coffee?" she offered, but he just shook his head.

"You doing okay?" he asked, standing close because the kitchenette was so darn small.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, knowing exactly why, but she wasn't about to show her feelings to him.

"You could sit this one out, you know.”

"Hotch, no way! Please don't even suggest that! These girls deserve justice, and I've got to see it through."

"I get it, but if things start getting too heavy and overwhelming, promise me you'll give me a heads-up," he said gently.

"You bet," she nodded.

They hung there for a few more seconds. Hotch's presence always had a calming effect on her, and she felt more grounded when he was around. He saw the tension on her face and he probably wanted to reach out and offer comfort, but he held back. So, he turned around and went back to his seat. She watched Hotch walk away and caught eyes with Emily, who gave her a knowing look. She was the only one on the team who knew how Y/N felt about Hotch. To this day, she regretted telling Emily, on a drunken night, that she had a crush on their boss. Emily had persistently encouraged her on more than a few occasions to confess her feelings, but she had consistently declined, fearing the potential embarrassment and awkwardness it could create between them. Emily smirked at her, but she only mouthed "Don't" before also returning to her seat.

The case was progressing as usual – examining the crime scene, talking to victims' relatives and potential eyewitnesses, and creating the unsub profile. Throughout the investigation, the team noticed Y/N becoming increasingly agitated. However, things took a sharp downward turn after Casandra was kidnapped. Y/N grew moody, neglected sleep and food, and immersed herself in reexamining the same files and evidence over and over again.

Y/N and Spencer found themselves back at the last crime scene, as Y/N insisted on revisiting it, when new information arose. Penelope added them to the group call and informed everyone that her research had led her to a man fitting the unsub's profile. She sent over his last registered address.

"We're nearby. It's not far from the last crime scene," Y/N informed the team.

"We'll meet you guys there," Derek said before they ended the call. Y/N and Spencer then drove to the address.

They parked in front of the house and awaited the team's arrival when Y/N spotted movement inside. She immediately called Hotch.

"Hotch, there's someone in the house. Maybe he's holding the girl in there. We need to go in. Now!"

"We'll be there shortly. You can't go in there without backup," Hotch cautioned.

"Spencer is here too."

"Agent Y/L/N, I said wait. That's an order!" Hotch's tone was stern.

"I'm sorry, I have to," Y/N replied, and with that, she exited the car and headed toward the front door of the house. Hotch heard Spencer shouting after Y/N before the call ended. Cursing under his breath, he instructed Derek to speed up.

In under 5 minutes, the team reached the unsub's address. The front door had been kicked open, and the team could hear Y/N yelling at someone.

"Where is he? Tell me! Where is your brother?" She was shouting, pinning a young man facedown on the carpet. Y/N's knee was pressed into his back, immobilizing him as she held his hands behind his back.

"Agent Y/L/N, that's enough!" Hotch's order rang out, and he turned to Emily, gesturing for her to take over. Emily walked over, cuffed the man's hands, and assisted him to his feet. The officers and the team exited the house. As they were leaving, Hotch turned to Y/N and said, "We will discuss this later."

Upon arriving at the station, Hotch instructed Derek and Rossi to interrogate the suspect's brother regarding the unsub's whereabouts. He told the team, except for Y/N, to leave the room the sheriff assigned to the BAU upon their arrival. Facing her, Hotch clenched his jaw, in order to stay calm.

"You are off the case," he stated in an unwavering voice.

"Hotch, no, I'm—"

"You. Are. Off. The case. Agent Y/L/N."

"That's not fair. We have the guy's brother."

"That's not fair? That's not fair? Are you really talking back right now?" Hotch's anger escalated.

"I said I'm sorry! But what if we would have lost our chance? That guy had his things packed; he was leaving!"

"I don't care if he was leaving or not! You can't act on your own in situations like this! You put yourself and Spencer in danger."

"We're fine!"

"Yeah, luckily! But you didn't know what awaited you behind that door. Both of you could have been injured or worse. Your actions were selfish and unprofessional. I don't want you anywhere near anything related to this case until we're back in Quantico. Do you understand?"

Y/N didn't even respond; she simply stormed out of the room. She headed straight to the bathroom, seeking some privacy to calm down. Splashing her face with ice-cold water, she leaned over the sink, taking deep breaths while still seething with anger. Just then, JJ entered the restroom. Like everyone else at the station, she had heard the heated exchange between Hotch and Y/N and came to check on her.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm off the case."

"Maybe it's for the best, don't you think?"

"Not you too, JJ," Y/N replied, releasing a heavy sigh as she dried her hands and face. She walked past JJ and left the restroom, unwilling to argue with her as well. Although she was banned from anything related to the case, Hotch hadn't instructed her to leave the station entirely or return to the hotel, so she remained. In the breakroom, she sat, observing and straining to catch any updates. She watched as Derek and Rossi emerged from the interrogation room, but they refused to share information due to Hotch's orders. Naturally, Spencer and Emily also followed Hotch's directives, all for Y/N's own well-being.

Suddenly, there was movement as the team geared up, putting on their vests. Clearly, they had a new lead. Y/N swiftly rose, walking toward the team to grab her own vest, but Hotch halted her immediately.

"I told you that you're not allowed anything related to the case."

"Hotch, come on! Punish me with paperwork or anything else, but not like this, please!"

"No."

"Hotch, maybe you should—" Derek attempted to intervene.

"I said no!" Hotch's tone was firm as he locked eyes with Y/N. He could see the anger in her eyes and how she was holding back tears of frustration. With Hotch's final words, the team exited the station and drove away. Unable to hold back, Y/N retreated to the bathroom, shedding a few tears of anger. She knew she had made a mistake and was in the wrong, but the frustration and sense of being left behind lingered. Hotch should have been the first to understand the weight of guilt from not saving a loved one. Yet, he treated her as the issue, disregarding the missing child who might require the help of every agent for her rescue.

She let out a deep breath, a release that felt like she had been holding it in for days, as the team returned to the station with the little girl in Emily's arms. Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the heartwarming scene of the girl reuniting with her parents, embraces and kisses shared all around.

Mistiness gathered in Y/N's eyes once more, her mind drifting to how it might have felt to get her own little sister back all those years ago. Lifting her eyes from the heartwarming family reunion, her gaze locked with Hotch's, and it was as if he could read her thoughts. He took a step towards her, but she promptly spun around and walked away.

Hotch was not surprised by her reaction; he didn't even know why he had attempted to approach her. He did know, deep down, but he wasn't ready to admit it to himself, especially not at this moment. A few minutes later, he noticed Y/N storming out of the station, her bag slung over her shoulder.

"She said she'll be waiting by the jet," JJ informed Hotch as they both watched Y/N leave.

That was why she found herself being the first to arrive at the jet, a rarity. Normally, she'd take the seat in front of Hotch, and they'd dive into their paperwork during the flight back home. It was an opportunity to talk and maybe even steal glances at his handsome face. But now, she didn’t even want to hear his voice.

Instead, she settled onto the broad couch, the same one where Spencer often napped, and attempted to drift into sleep. Exhaustion from the past days quickly pulled her into slumber. She faintly registered the team entering the jet and briefly woke at takeoff, but she promptly turned away and slipped back into sleep, determined to avoid everyone, especially Hotch.

The jet's interior was dimly lit, and most of the team dozed off in their seats. Hotch occupied a couple of seats away from the couch where Y/N was deeply asleep, while Rossi sat directly in front of him. He observed her for a moment, noticing her curling up into a ball – she must be cold. The realization prompted Hotch to stand up promptly. He opened one of the jet's cupboards and retrieved a blanket. Quietly, he approached Y/N and draped the blanket over her, observing as she snuggled into the soft fabric. With the exception of Rossi, everyone else was already asleep, so his actions would likely go unquestioned by the team. Besides, he was merely helping a colleague, right? He lingered by her side for longer than necessary; her relaxed face was undeniably beautiful, and he wanted – no, needed – to savour it for just a little while longer. He was painfully aware that the only expression he'd encounter in her eyes when she woke would be resentment toward him. He would give anything to reach out and caress her cheek at this very moment. Eventually, he returned to his seat, and Rossi's gaze immediately landed on him.

"You're hopeless, Aaron," Rossi chuckled.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hotch replied, his gaze shifting to the files before him.

"You know, she kind of has the right to be angry at you."

"You can't seriously think that what she did was right."

"No, I do not. It was actually really fucking dumb, but you're sort of being a hypocrite here."

"How so?"

"Well, yes, she made a mistake barging into that house on her own, and she acted impulsively. But so did you. Every one of us has made stupid mistakes at some point, and hers at least helped us locate the unsub. If it were any other agent, you would have let them join the rescue and handed them a pile of paperwork as punishment later. But because you have an emotional attachment to her and feelings for her, you were afraid she'd act recklessly again. You couldn't risk her getting hurt, like, say, jumping in front of a bullet – which we both know she would have. So, you left her behind. Not to mention, you understood why she acted the way she did. This case was deeply personal to her. Needless to say, you both acted like idiots."

Hotch leans back in his seat and lets out a sigh. He knows Rossi's right, though sometimes he hates working with profilers.

"We all want to protect the people we love, Aaron. But remember, she's still an agent, and this is her job," Rossi adds before returning to his files.

Hotch glances over at her and ponders Rossi's words. He realizes he definitely overreacted because it was you who put yourself in danger. He knows she's a great agent and can take care of herself in these dangerous situations, but just the thought of something happening to her makes his stomach drops.

It had been a couple of days since the team had returned to Quantico, and as Hotch expected, Y/N was avoiding him at all costs. She submitted her reports well before the deadlines, left the office earlier than usual – a rarity for her, as she was typically one of the last agents to leave. Hotch even noticed her falling silent whenever he entered the break room or the bullpen, and she seemed to find excuses to distance herself from him. This avoidance was starting to irritate him more and more. He missed the late nights spent doing paperwork together in his office after everyone else had gone home. He longed to hear her laughter and engage in conversations with her. He just missed her. While she appeared to be getting along fine with the rest of the team, her anger toward Hotch still lingered. He knew he needed to talk to her and explain his actions; he hoped that she might understand once he did.

So, as soon as he arrived at the office the following day, he made it a priority. Upon entering his office, he noticed Y/N's completed report on his desk, finished once again before deadline. He was aware that she was completing her work ahead of time to avoid any interaction with Hotch about the report. Without even glancing at the report, he stepped back out of his office.

"Agent Y/L/N, a word, please," he said, his tone possibly more agitated than he had intended. The rest of the team exchanged questioning looks as Y/N ascended the few stairs to his office. She knocked on the door, even though it was already open, and announced herself before entering.

"Close the door," Hotch ordered, his voice firm as he removed his jacket.

He had initially only wanted to apologize and explain his decision on the case, but seeing that finished report again ignited a kind of anger within him. Particularly because he knew how much she despised working on it in the first place. Now, she stood in front of him, alone for the first time in days, yet she didn't even glance at his face.

"You finished your work early again, Agent Y/L/N?"

"Yes, sir." Sir... she never called him 'sir.' He really wanted to hear his name from her. He tried to catch her eyes, but she purposely looked away. There was a brief silence before she finally spoke up, "Is there something wrong with it, sir?"

His emotions were getting the better of him due to her distant tone, possibly amplified by the frustration that had built up over the past few days. So, he responded with unnecessary sharpness.

"Yeah, there's something wrong with it. Do it again," he snapped, tossing the file onto the desk closer to her. For the first time in days, she met his eyes, her brows furrowed in irritation, though her voice remained calm.

"May I ask what was wrong with it, sir?" she inquired, striving to sound neutral.

"You may not, Agent! Get back to your work," he replied, his voice unintentionally louder than he intended.

Y/N stormed out of the room, doing her best to restrain herself from slamming the door behind her. She settled back at her desk, aware of her colleagues' watchful eyes on her, though no one said a word. In his office, Hotch couldn't help but curse under his breath. "Why did I do that?" he wondered. This kind of pettiness was uncharacteristic of him, yet there was something about her that could evoke such strong emotions from him, both positive and negative.

He struggled throughout the remaining day to focus on his work, his mind repeatedly drifting to thoughts of her. Glancing at the clock, he realized that the workday was drawing to a close. He had planned to talk to her today, and he was determined to do it before she left, especially since she tended to head out before the others. Stepping out of his office and peering down into the bullpen, he noticed Spencer packing up while Y/N and Emily waited. Derek and Penelope were already on their way to the elevator, and Rossi had left hours ago due to personal matters.

"Y/L/N, to my office, please," he called out in his strong voice from the top of the stairs before returning back into his office. Spencer and Emily exchanged glances, and while Y/N was clearly displeased, it was inevitable that she had to have a conversation with Hotch.

"You guys go ahead. Don't wait for me. I'll see you tomorrow," she said, placing her bag back on her desk before making her way up to Hotch's office.

"Sit down," Hotch says as she enters his office, gesturing to the free chair in front of his desk.

"For how much longer do you plan to keep this up?" Hotch asks in a plain tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

Hotch rubs his face and lets out a sigh before continuing. "Cut it out! This whole 'sir' thing. You haven't spoken to me in days. It's affecting the work environment."

"I don't think it's affecting anything. I've been working efficiently, and my reports are always on time."

"I don't give a damn about your reports, Y/N!" Hotch exclaims, standing up and slamming his hands on the table as he leans toward her.

She stands abruptly. "Then there's no reason for me to be here if this isn't work-related," she nearly yells, matching Hotch's intensity. She starts to turn around, indicating her intention to leave.

"You're not leaving before we talk about what happened and clear this up!", he said and walked around his desk to now stand infront of her.

"There's nothing to clear up!"

"How is there nothing to clear up? You've been avoiding me since we got back from the case. You won't talk to me, you won't look at me—hell, you leave the room when I walk in."

Hotch's frustration was palpable as he stepped closer to her. "You think you can just avoid me and everything will be fine? You think you can act like nothing happened?"

Y/N's voice trembled with anger. "I'm doing my job, just like I always have."

"Your job? This is more than just about your damn job. We're a team, and that means communication and trust."

Y/N shot back, her voice rising. "Trust? Is that what you call it? You completely shut me out during the case. You made me feel like I can't make decisions, like I'm incapable."

Hotch's eyes blazed with frustration. "I made a decision to protect you, to keep you safe!"

"By treating me like a child? By belittling me in front of the team?" Y/N's cheeks were flushed, her anger evident.

"You were reckless, Y/N! You put yourself and Spencer in danger!"

"I had a lead, I had a chance to save that girl!"

"By charging into a potentially dangerous situation without backup? You're lucky nothing worse happened."

Y/N's fists clenched at her sides. "You don't understand. You never understand."

"Oh, I understand more than you realize," Hotch retorted, his voice dripping with frustration.

The room seemed to crackle with tension as their argument escalated. Each word was a jab, a release of the pent-up emotions they had been harboring. The distance between them had grown from physical to emotional, and they were both struggling to bridge the gap.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the room, and JJ's head appeared in the doorway. "Oh, sorry for disturbing. I just wanted to say goodbye before I leave. Don't let me interrupt," she said, sensing the tension in the room, and then closed the door behind her. Throughout JJ's brief interaction, Y/N and Hotch's eyes remained locked on each other.

JJ's interruption seemed to inject a moment of calm into the charged atmosphere, allowing a slight easing of the tension in the room.

Hotch's voice broke the silence once again, this time with a calmer and more composed tone. "Believe me, I understand why this case held such significance for you. The entire team recognised that. However, that doesn't justify putting yourself in harm's way."

Y/N's voice softened, her frustration mingling with a touch of vulnerability. "I know it was reckless to charge in without waiting, and I've already apologized for that—I'm still sorry. But what you did was unfair. You left me behind. Aren't we supposed to be a team? How could you make that decision, Hotch?" Her eyes misted over, a mixture of hurt and confusion in her gaze.

Hotch's gaze softened as he heard the hurt in her voice. He took a step closer, closing the physical distance between them, and rested his hands on his hips. "Y/N, it's not about whether you apologized or not. It's about the fact that you charged into a dangerous situation without considering the consequences. In this line of work, we can't afford to act on emotions alone. We have to think logically, strategically. Acting solely on emotion can get people killed."

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears as his words sank in. She looked down at her hands, her voice choked with emotion. "I know that, Hotch. I do. But in that moment, all I could think about was finding that girl, saving her. It was like... I couldn't control myself."

Hotch took another step forward, his presence a comforting presence in front of her. He reached out and gently lifted her chin, guiding her gaze to meet his. His touch was tender, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Y/N, I get it. I do. But I was scared. Scared of losing you, of seeing you hurt. I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you."

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. His touch was a lifeline, grounding her in this vulnerable moment. "I... I couldn't save my sister," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I was supposed to be watching her, and I let her down."

Hotch's grip on her chin tightened ever so slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. He leaned in closer, his voice tender. "Y/N, what happened to your sister wasn't your fault. You were just a child yourself. You couldn't have known."

A sob escaped Y/N's lips as she leaned into his touch, her tears falling freely now. Hotch gently wiped away her tears with his thumb, his touch soothing. "It's okay to feel the pain, Y/N. But you can't let it dictate your actions now. You have so much strength, so much potential. I just want to keep you safe."

She let out a shaky breath, her emotions raw and exposed. Hotch's presence and his words were a balm to her wounded heart. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice filled with remorse.

Hotch shook his head softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "There's no need to apologize. I should have handled things differently too. We both made mistakes."

They stood there for a moment, their gazes locked, and the air around them seemed to shift. Hotch took a step forward, his hand moving from her chin to her cheek, his touch gentle and caring.

"Y/N, we're a team. And I promise you, I'll always have your back. But I need you to promise me that you'll think before you act, that you'll prioritize your safety."

She nodded, her tears slowing as a small smile tugged at her lips. "I promise."

And in that moment, with their bodies close and their gazes intertwined, they found a connection that went beyond words—a connection forged in vulnerability, understanding, and the unspoken bond of a team that had weathered the storm together.

Y/N closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around Hotch in a tight embrace. Her face is buried in his chest, and he holds her close, his hand caressing her hair with utmost tenderness. In this vulnerable embrace, their walls begin to crumble, and the weight of unspoken emotions hangs heavily in the air.

Hotch's voice is barely above a whisper as he presses his lips to her ear, letting all the truths he had been holding back spill forth. "I was so scared, Y/N... scared to lose you. I can't bear the thought of ever losing you. Please, don't ever put yourself in that kind of danger again."

His words are a mixture of desperation and genuine concern, a heartfelt confession that had been weighing on him for far too long. He holds her tighter, his grip on her waist firm yet gentle. "I don't know what I would do without you. You've become such an important part of my life."

His voice quivers with emotion, each word carrying the weight of his feelings. "I missed talking to you, missed hearing your laugh. Even the complaints about paperwork, I missed those too. You mean so much to me, Y/N, more than you might realize."

Y/N's grip on him tightens, her tears soaking into his shirt as she listens to his heartfelt words. It's a moment of vulnerability, of raw honesty that they had both been avoiding. Hotch's whispers in her ear are like a soothing melody, erasing the tension that had been building between them.

Their embrace lingers, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that ties them together. Hotch continues to caress her hair, his touch a silent reassurance of his feelings. In this moment, surrounded by their shared emotions and the warmth of their connection, they find solace in each other's arms.

Y/N pulls away slightly, creating enough space to look up at him, her eyes glistening with sincerity. She takes a deep breath before speaking, her voice a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Hotch, Aaron... I became so upset about this situation because it was you who was disappointed in me. You mean the world to me. Your opinion, your feelings, they matter more than I can even express. Not just as my boss, but as a friend and... and maybe, just maybe, even more."

Her cheeks flush with a soft hue of pink as she admits her feelings, her gaze dropping to the floor as if overwhelmed by the weight of her confession. She's both relieved and terrified to have finally voiced her emotions, unsure of how he'll react despite his previous words of comfort.

Hotch's breath catches in his throat as he absorbs her words. His heart races, and a mixture of surprise, hope, and affection blooms in his chest. He reaches out to gently lift her chin, his thumb brushing against her skin as he tilts her face up to meet his gaze. His expression is a mixture of tenderness and warmth, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

"Y/N..." Hotch's voice is soft, carrying a mix of emotions that mirror her own. He searches her eyes, his thumb tracing over her cheekbone, his touch both soothing and electrifying. "I've been struggling with my own feelings, with the fear of crossing a line. But I want you to know... you're important to me too. More than I can put into words."

A gentle smile tugs at the corners of his lips, his gaze locked onto hers. "I never wanted to push you away or make you feel like your actions don't matter. They do, because you matter. And I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

Y/N's heart swells with his words, and the warmth of his touch resonates deep within her. Her eyes well up with tears, but this time they're tears of relief and joy. Her lips tremble into a soft smile as she meets his gaze with renewed hope.

"I'm glad we talked," she whispers, her voice filled with sincerity. "I don't want to avoid you, Aaron. I want us to be honest with each other, no matter what happens."

Hotch's thumb continues to caress her cheek, his touch grounding her in this moment of emotional intimacy. "I feel the same way," he admits, his voice a mere breath against her lips. "And I promise, from now on, we'll face things together."

Their proximity becomes charged with a newfound understanding, their unspoken connection now verbalized. And as they stand there, gazing into each other's eyes, they both know that this conversation is just the beginning of a deeper and more meaningful journey ahead.

As the weight of their emotions lingers in the air, Y/N takes a small step closer, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. Hotch's gaze softens even further, and in that moment, they both feel the pull of an unspoken desire.

Without any more hesitation, Y/N tilts her head slightly, her lips brushing against his in a tentative yet gentle kiss. It's a kiss filled with the tenderness of their shared feelings, a silent promise of everything they've both been longing for.

Hotch's arms instinctively wrap around her, pulling her closer as he deepens the kiss with a mixture of longing and affection. His lips move against hers with a slow and deliberate rhythm, their connection intensifying as their bodies press against each other.

The air between them grows warmer, their shared emotions igniting a spark of passion. Y/N's fingers thread through his hair, holding him close as the kiss becomes more heated, a reflection of the desires they've kept hidden for so long.

Their breath mingles, the world around them fading as they lose themselves in the intoxicating sensation of their lips moving together. The kiss becomes a dance of emotions, each movement a declaration of their feelings.

Finally, they break apart, their lips still lingering just millimeters away. Their breaths come in ragged gasps, their eyes locked in a heated gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and bliss.

A soft, love-drunk smile tugs at Y/N's lips, and she brushes her thumb against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. Hotch's fingers continue to caress her back, his touch a silent affirmation of his feelings.

"Wow," Y/N breathes, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart still racing from the intensity of their kiss.

Hotch chuckles softly, his forehead resting against hers. "Yeah, wow," he replies, his voice filled with a mixture of wonder and contentment.

Their smiles mirror each other's, and in that moment, they both realize that this is just the beginning of their journey together. The walls that once kept their feelings hidden have crumbled, replaced by a newfound connection that's deeper and more meaningful.

As they stand there, breathless and gazing into each other's eyes, they know that they're embarking on a path of honesty, vulnerability, and love. And with their lips still tingling from their kiss, they share a quiet understanding that whatever challenges lie ahead, they'll face them together.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaronhotchnerissuchadilfandIwoulddieforhim

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mcu-coworkers · 10 months

Text

Vampire

Summary: You tell Miguel his truths and in return he shows you his.

Word count: 1.9k+

Warnings: none really:]

A/n: Hello everyone welcome to long awaited part 4 as well as the final part to this little series! thank you guys so much for loving it I truly can't express how grateful I am for all of you I hope you love this ending and I hope to you all again in my next story! Also I will be attaching the tag list to this chapter since hopefully that makes it a little easier to find everyone. I hope everyone enjoys.xx

Tag list

Parts: I II III IIII^

Credits to the owner^:)

It had been a week since you went back to HQ and you were starting to feel lighter.

In a way, telling Miguel your truth helped you get there.

Because now, you didn't have to keep thinking about the thought of what you’d say to him if you ever saw him again.

But you did see him again, and in your opinion, you said just the right things.

Suddenly you found yourself having more energy, listening to happier songs, and taking Milo on longer walks or fun adventures.

Things were finally starting to look up for you, so much so you actually thought about returning to the spider society to get back on fighting multiversal crime.

Right on queue Peter walks through the portal.

“You sure you wanna do this? You said you’d never come back.” he questioned remembering how he found you right after everything happened.

Thinking about it one more time, you smiled and turned on your suit.

“Yep, I'm just gonna lay low. Be a freelance spider with no commitment to a sector or anything you know?” you said reassuring yourself.

“Okay but I mean more like to get back in you’ll have to talk to Miguel. And he hasnt been in the best of moods lately.” he said watching as you walked.

Your smile only got wider as you made your way to the portal, for the first time you felt nothing.

No butterflies in your stomach and no heart beat skipping at the mention of his name.

Progress right?

Shrugging his shoulders Peter followed you in standing right beside you as you entered the busy hallways.

“Alright well I ‘ll leave you to it. I'm gonna take May Day to get her mid day nap.” he said walking away.

“See ya later Pete thanks for bringing me in.” you said waving him away.

As you made your way to Miguel's office you thought about what Pete said earlier, had he really been such a grump.

You’d think he’d be happier not having to deal with you.

But like always, nothing and no one could ever help that man no matter the case.

As you made your way up Miguel was practicing his speech with Lyla.

“... I didn’t mean what I said that day and if I knew the damage it would do I wouldn't have said it in the first place? Sounds stupid doesn't it?” he said, turning to face her.

“Yep, just like the first two times you said it. Miguel when you go find her you have to speak from the heart not from a piece of paper it just sounds so Scripted.” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Scripted? It's not scripted. I just think writing my thoughts down will help me pull it together.” he said huffing in frustration.

“How about this, you pretend im Y/n and tell me what you’d say, no notes just your thoughts. Right now.” she said sitting in a little AI chair she made for herself.

Thinking about it he just gave up.

“Okay but record it so I can take notes after.” he said, beginning to pace around the panel.

Sighing he began to get frustrated with himself, “Ay cono esto no esta sirviendo.” he said rubbing his face.

“Come on Miguel, get to it.” Lyla said, rushing him.

“This is stupid! Shes probably off with who ever the fuck Milo is having the time of her life because I , like the big fucking idiot I am, pushed her straight into his arms!” he said, at this point he was over the smashing and breaking things so he just leaned against his desk.

“It doesn't matter what I say anymore Lyla, She’ll never forgive me, she’ll never listen to me. I ‘ll never get to tell her that I love her and even if I did she’d never believe it because she thinks I am a big giant asshole.' ' he said lowering his voice as he got close to the end.

“But you know what? That Milo is one lucky soul, he gets to look into her eyes, make her smile, just simply be in her presence. He has everything I wish I had. Y/n.” he said, still looking down.

“ I was a vampire, sucking the life out of her and then just tossing her to the side like she meant nothing, when in reality she was fucking everything Lyla. Milo is one lucky guy.” he said, looking up at Lyla to see her smiling.

Confused by her reaction he was getting ready to ask.

“Milo is a dog, my dog.” you said, startling him.

“Dios mío (my god), Y/n? What are yo-what are you doing here.” he said, his heart practically racing out of his chest.

“Well I was here to ask for my place back in the society but I think I'm gonna go.. Yeah I'm gonna go.” you said as tears began to well up in your eyes.

There was no actual way you just heard all of that.

Looking between you and Lyla Miguel went after you.

“No no no wait just please.” he said, holding onto your arm.

Pulling back you felt anger, the audacity of this man.

“Who do you think you are? Huh? I was so in love with you Miguel! So stupidly in love with you because I thought you were this hero that helped everyone and you just needed someone to help you.” you said laughing to yourself.

“People told me to stay away from you, that you’d never accept the help or even my friendship. But I shook them off and thought they were crazy for not wanting to see through that rough surface you carried, but I did, I wanted to. I wanted to believe that I could break through and see the real you, but I realized there is no breaking through. That was it there was no surface, that's just who you are and it was all thanks to you. No one else helped me realize it, just you.” you said shoving a finger into his chest.

“And when I took that leap of faith and told you how I felt you kicked me to the curb, you bled me dry like a goddamn vampire. Because of you I almost gave it all up. I was so broken, so lost. All because I risked my place next to you and I lost it. But in reality I never had it. There was no place next you because you're Big bad Spiderman 2099 and you work better alone. Fine, work alone.” you said walking away, nope, not walking away you weren't done.

“ No you know what, it's not fair. You do not get to reject me and make me go through all of this to just turn around and say that you love me. You’re a vampire, Miguel O’hara. You just like to suck the life out of me and toss me to the side until you feel like using me again.” you said tears were beginning to fall.

“Y/n please, I never meant for you to feel like this, I just, I just want you to come back. I understand if what I said was too much but we need you here. I need you here.” he said, looking at you with soft eyes.

God he was making it difficult to walk away.

“If this is your way of getting some fucked up little thrill I wont do it, I wont.” you said looking at him with threatening eyes.

“ I know it's hard to believe what I‘m saying but could you atleast try? Dios mio mujer I‘m trying to confess my love for you and you're making it impossible!” he said, running his hands through his hair.

He fell for such a headstrong woman.

Looking at you again he decided to just go for it, “Oh fuck it.” he said looking at your lips.

“Wha-” before you could finish his lips were on yours and he was pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Putting your hand against his chest you considered pulling away but as he cupped your face and pulled you closer your hands found themselves making their way to the back of his neck and pulling him closer.

Pulling away, Miguel continued to give you pecs allowing you to catch your breath.

“Believe me now?” he whispered.

“Mmmm, still a little skeptical.” you said smiling as he leaned back in smiling into the kiss.

“Aww aren't you two just the cutest? Lyla please tell me you got that.” you heard startling you as you pulled away.

“Yup, got it all.” she said pointing to the recording hologram, “So good.” she said smiling.

You tried to detach yourself from Miguel but he continued to hold you tightly by the waste.

So instead you opted for hiding into his chest and smiling.

“What do you need, Parker.” Miguel said as he looked at the walking interruption.

“My friend who came to see the walking grump was taking a little long just wanted to make sure she made it out alive.” he said, covering May Day's bright eyes.

“As you can see she is alive and well, you can go now.” he said, putting his attention back on you.

“Alright, im gone you kids be safe, take it slow.” he said jokingly.

“Peter!” you yelped turning a bright shade red.

“So, I'm a blood sucking vampire?If I knew any better I‘d think you have a thing for vampires amor.” he said as he kissed down your neck gently grazing you with his fangs.

Moving your head to give him more space you moved your hands into his hair and pulled at the roots.

“Just one.” you said smiling as he brought his lips back to yours.

“Good. Because this ones gonna do more than suck the life out of you.” he said as he pulled you back in for a kiss.

Smiling into the kiss you pulled away trying to control your laughter.

Confused by your reaction Miguel just watched.

“You were je-jealous of my dog?” you said trying to catch your breath.

Shoulder slumping Miguel hoped you wouldn't bring that up.

“You're not letting that go are you.” he said looking at the wall.

“Oh no, never I do have to admit, he is one handsome boy.” you said bursting out in laughter.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” he said as he attempted to keep a straight face, hearing your laugh in his office again made it hard.

Finally, everything was how he wanted it.

You at his side, with a dog, but nonetheless at his side.

Now he just had to get Milo on his side too.

Did this mean he was a dog dad now?

“Wait Lyla did you know she was coming here?” he asked suddenly realizing that you just so happened to walk in at a perfect time.

“Yup, saw her on the surveillance footage and you were taking too long for my liking, you are welcome boss man.” she said, saluting him before disappearing.

Deciding to let it go he focused back on you, “worth it.”

Meanwhile Lyla was showing the other spiders the video collecting her winnings from the bets she placed.

“These damn AI’s always know everything.” Jess whispered under her breath.

She’d take it up with Miguel later, but for now… who knew he could be such a softy?

You did, more than ever now.

#marvel #multiverse #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel #spider-man 2099 #marvel men #spiderman #miguel spiderman #miguel x y/n #oscar issac fic #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #2099

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