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finelinefae · 2 days

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match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them

word count: 10.2k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n

this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here

. . .

“Again,”

Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court.

She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,”

She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve.

“Again,”

Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already.

“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously.

She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”

“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.”

“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts.

“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil.

This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay.

However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one.

She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.

Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.

“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate.

Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time.

Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench.

He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.

Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"

By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.

“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight.

“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.

“We are training properly,” He argued.

“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”

“And?”

“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?”

“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.”

Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”

She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par.

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned.

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”

Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.”

Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.

As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own.

She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face.

“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”

He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained.

“You made this for me?” She frowned.

“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles.

Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman.

“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury.

“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual.

“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park.

She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply.

. . .

After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed.

Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam.

Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years.

Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on.

She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie.

She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment.

The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it.

She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song.

‘Nothing to be justified yet

She the first I'm running with

She the one that get my collar

She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’

. . .

The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her.

“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.

Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”

“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”

Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?”

Y/N frowned, “What?”

“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained.

“Oh I don’t know about that-”

“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.

“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied.

“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.

“You asked him before me?”

“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”

“Why didn’t he ask me?”

Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?”

Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too.

“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”

Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.

. . .

It was raining outside.

Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour.

“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,”

“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”

“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”

Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort.

“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously.

She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?”

He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”

“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck.

“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it.

“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked.

“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained.

“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.

“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied.

“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her.

Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them.

As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.”

Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,”

Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”

Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”

Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”

“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.

“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.

“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words.

Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”

Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it.

“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked.

Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"

Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?”

Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."

"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.

Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?”

“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting.

“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged.

“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.

“I study,” Y/N stated.

“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life.

“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”

Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.

"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.

“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled.

As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently.

“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”

Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”

Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently.

He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”

Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park.

Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked.

“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief.

“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”

“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”

She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”

“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,”

“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted.

Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on.

“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.

“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.

“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”

“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot.

“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”

Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward.

“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”

This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,”

Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”

“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears.

“Atta girl,” He beamed.

Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive.

“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed.

Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car.

“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her.

“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved.

“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played.

Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”

Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face.

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”

He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him.

“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun.

“Okay,” Y/N nodded.

He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.

“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile.

“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning.

“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”

Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”

“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.

Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained.

Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”

“And you can do the same,” She says.

Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.”

She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,”

“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”

“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same.

“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits.

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.

“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.”

Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.”

Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before.

She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her.

. . .

Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.

“Again,” Harry drawled.

Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.

“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.

Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything.

“I just need to win,” She mumbled.

“Get up,” Harry ordered.

Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.

“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her.

He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.

Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm.

“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”

Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.”

The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.

Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted.

“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”

“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”

“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.

“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.

“Come to my place,” He offers.

“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down.

“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”

She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.

Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment.

Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax.

The day after, they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.

Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.

The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot.

“For now,” He says.

Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.

“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor.

She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.

Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.”

“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.”

Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.”

“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.”

Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?”

Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”

Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question.

“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”

“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge.

Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.

“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?”

“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.

Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.”

"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.

Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."

Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.

"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.

"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.

"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.

Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."

Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.

Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."

As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”

Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.

Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"

Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.

"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.

"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.

But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife.

"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."

Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."

"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."

"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.

As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.

"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.

The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.

"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.”

“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears.

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.

Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much.

“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke.

“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.”

“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him.

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.”

Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”

Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”

His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them.

She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him.

. . .

It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn.

He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher.

On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker.

Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone.

“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it.

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.

“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”

Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”

“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”

He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks.

Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking.

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder.

She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to.

“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention.

Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire.

“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her.

“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder.

Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.

When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.

When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.

“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat.

But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.

“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own.

Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said.

Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her.

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned.

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot.

Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him.

They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.

The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.

As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.

Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.

But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.

"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.

“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.

He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?

He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling.

He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.

The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck.

After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would.

Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood.

If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis.

He was in trouble.

. . .

People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood.

“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”

“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her.

That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.

Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to.

Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator.

Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.

“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her.

“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him.

“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”

“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before.

Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”

Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”

Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.

Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county.

Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

442 notes · View notes

999h34rt · 2 days

Text

FLATLINE | PAIGE BUECKERS

➣ paige x fem!gf!reader

➣ summary: y/n and paige experience what it means to be in a long distance relationship, but with the distance between them, can they overcome it?

➣ warning : secret relationship, angst (kinda) ,long distance.

➣ duayaps: first post🥳🥳🥳, thoughts?

➣ inspired by flatline by justin bieber.

"I'LL MISS YOU" paige muttered against her neck.

"it'll go by before you know it" y/n said pulling away from the hug. When college applications started being filled, she took a big risk and applied for Politecnico di Milano, a fashion uni in Milan, Italy. She had already said goodbye to her parents, thinking that was the hardest goodbye she could imagine, but the tears in her eyes from saying goodbye to her girlfriend right now, told her she lied to herself a while ago.

Paige and y/n had always had a rocky side of their relationship, for one, it was a secret waiting to bomb the world, two, they always knew that long distance was going to be a thing for them. With Paige going to Uconn and Yn going to PDM, 'it was already doomed' said by most people. But overcoming the rocky side of their relationship, there was the fairytale side. The one where they in love, where they supported each other in everything, where they took each others first kisses, first everything. They were each other's lifelines in a way, they didn't go a day without speaking to each other.

They both hoped that these future 4 years, weren’t going to change their feelings of each other.

✩

Lately you've been busy, wondering if you miss me

Why did you go against me? I just wanna know

How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen

All the love I'm giving, don't act like you don't know

“…leave a message after the tone” y/n sighed as she hung up the phone. It was 7am and her alarm had just gone off, Paige was most likely asleep. It’s 1am at Storrs.

If you put the time difference aside, they were doing well. Both of them spent at least 2 hours everyday on the phone and haven’t had an any problems yet.

But it’s only been 5 months. 7 months and 3 years to go.

Y/n was glad Paige settled in great, she got along with her teammates and had a great support system there. Paige became a media star, with that came many fans. While y/n wasn’t the jealous type, these fans were wild.

She opened her instagram app, and slowly started to scroll through stories. When she stopped, went stiff. “Oh” she muttered, her girlfriend’s teammate, Aaliyah, had posted a story with the Uconn women’s basketball team having fun ,at what she would guess, a bar. Paige is in the background , a girl sitting next to her, whiles shes on the phone. Y/n quickly checked when the story was posted,10minutes ago.

‘Okay so she could’ve just posted this when she came home’ y/n quickly assured herself. Paige wouldn’t just ignore her calls, especially on a night out, right?

As those thoughts filled her head, a notification sound came from her phone.

pb 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽

gm baby. can’t talk, tired, going to bed.

y/n didn’t think anything, she couldn’t. She just typed ‘sweet dreams💗’ and hit send.

no i love you, no ily, not even an emoji.

‘Stop, don’t overthink this ,shes just tired’ she told herself. She shut her phone off and got out of bed, leaving her thoughts about P in her comfy bed.

It had been a month since the bar incident, and everything seemed normal, until a week ago.

Y/n just got out of work, a small intern job to help her graduate early. It was 6pm in Milan, and 12 in Storrs.On her way home, y/n called P.

The phone rang, 1,2,3 times before she hung up. Tried a gain, 1,2,3. User is busy.Paige had hung up on her, she didn’t think much of it. ‘She’s probs busy’.

That was 6 days ago.

While they exchange texts, no calls were made this week. Paige was busy, like really busy, But not busy ‘not go out with her friends for the 3rd time this week’ busy. Y/n got it, freshman year, new teammates, she had to have fun. She also knew that their relationship was on the down low. Even though she assured Paige that it was okay to tell her teammates, P reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t know, i’ll see’ She muttered to y/n, 2 weeks ago on their normal facetime call.

Y/n didn’t want to think much of it, she didn’t want her overthinking to brew a fight. The last 2 years she was back home, her and paige had never gone a day without speaking to each other, but so what it stopped now?, it was common sometimes to not call. So she let it be, but Paiges text became more and more rare,more dry and definitely more weird.

But y/n knew, paige was just busy.

✩

Girl you always catch me at the bad time (Bad time) When I know you probably think it's a lie (A lie) I know I told you last time was the last time (Last time) How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

On the other end of the phone. Y/n hit the red button, and ended the call. She hit her head on the wall behind her in frustration, thankful that the call wasn’t on facetime and Paige could see her sad face.

Y/n had called in sick at work so she could watch Paiges game in peace, her boss gave her an earful, because it was one of the more busier seasons in the fashion world, but she let her be ‘sick in bed’. She was proud of Paige, and was the happiest for her.

But the mood drifted when she heard the voice tell her they need her. ‘I need her too’ Y/n thought. This was the first time in a month that Y/n heard Paiges voice. Her heart clenched when she heard her sound weird, it sounded like she was frustrated. Frustrated with who though, with y/n?.

As time went quick, it felt like Paiges texts were more rare, and even more dry. And Y/n didn’t know if Paige was aware of the way she was acting, she also didn’t know if she should say anything, Paige was a freshman in college having fun, alone,without Y/n next to her.

If Y/n were to say anything, she didn’t want to seem like the bitchy jealous girlfriend that only wanted Paige to spend time with her, she just wanted Paige to spend some time with her.

It felt like their relationship was a bomb, and their time was running out quickly.

How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline? (Flatline) Cause when I hit you, you don't even reply (Reply) How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

✩

Not breathing, what is it I'm not seeing Said she's leaving, damn I can't believe it It's like my heart's bleeding knowing that you don't need me Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now

“… i just need some space y/n” Paige said with frustration, a sigh coming after. Y/n’s heart dropped.

It all started an hour and a half ago.

Paige went out with her teammates after a late night practice, forgetting that y/n was waiting on her phone call that she promised she would do after practice.

After she came home, she was bombarded with messages from Y/n. 8 to be exact.

y/n💍

hey did you finish practice?

- 8:15PM

you ready?

- 8:18PM

paige?

- 8:20PM

paigeeeeeeee???

- 8:30PM

pbabyyyy

- 8:35PM

pls tell me u didn’t forget

- 8:45PM

paige are you fucking kidding me

- 9:45PM

it’s our anniversary

- 9:45PM

call me when you get home and make sure you’re not busy

- 9:50PM

And when she called, the yelling happened. It was the first fight they’ve had in a while. While Y/n finally exploded demanding to know what’s happening with her, Paige only had one thing to say.

“I think we should take a break”

“What?” Y/n whispered after a long pause.

“i’m not ready to be in a relationship Y/n/n, i’m still questioning what i want, and i don’t know if its you yet.” Paige said. “I’m sorry, i just need some space Y/n”

Y/n heart dropped, she didn’t know what to say or think. While Y/n knew that not everything lasted, Paige was a sure thing. Paige was her lifeline. What was she going to do?.

Y/n gulped and said the only thing she knew she could say “It’s okay”.

‘It’s okay?’ Paige was taken back. Had Y/n want to breakup before?, and then Paige shockingly felt hurt in her chest, her stomach slightly dropped. Why was she feeling like this? why isn’t she feeling relief?. This has been on Paiges mind for the past 3 months, wasn’t this the solution?

“Go be a superstar but don’t expect me to wait for you while you figure out what you want to do” Y/n said, her voice sweet. Not even a slight tone of bitterness.

Y/n still wasn’t able to move from her spot on the kitchen counter. Tears were streaming down her face, and before a sob sound could come, she hung up the phone. All Y/n knew was Paige, but know she didn’t even know that.

She had literally left her clueless, without her lifeline. now flatline.

✩

- 5 MONTHS LATER -

Paige stood there, watching from her afar.

“That’s her?” a croatian accent asked. She felt Nika sit beside her. “Yeah” Paige answered still in awe of her.

“She’s really pretty” Nika said. Paige nodded agreeing with her. She was wearing a flowy white short summer dress with cowboy boots.

It was Drews birthday today, and as the team had some off time, Drew invited them to his barbecue party. And the weekend before his birthday, he ran into Y/n. Of course the boy was oblivious to the breakup and while he asked still asked Paige for Y/n, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they broke up.

So when Drew begged Y/n to come to his birthday party, Y/n didn’t know what else to say but yes. He could literally get whatever he wanted out of everyone.

At first, Y/n debated if she should just call Paiges stepmom and cancel, or she should just go and pray that Paige couldn’t make it.

Well, Paige had come. And so did the rest of the huskies. When Y/n saw them, she sighed. Although she was friends with Azzi, she didn’t know the rest of them, but by the look on their faces when she came in, she knew that Paige had told them her history.

Azzi, being the sweetheart she is, excitedly came running to Y/n and hugging her tight. The whole party they caught up with each other, with Azzi telling her about Uconn and Y/n telling her about studying abroad. For the past 30 minutes they’ve been talking, not once have either of them mentioned Paige.

Y/n turned, meeting Paiges eyes. The two of them made eye contact with each other again. Y/n then heard Azzi laughed, when she snapped her head to look at her friend. She saw a small teasing smile on her face. “Don’t even start” Y/n said, glaring at her. She got up and made her way to the other side of the backyard, where there was no Paige in sight.

“Y/n/n” she heard a child scream. Drew was suddenly hugging her legs. “Hi Drewsky” she laughed, beginning to tickle him. She felt the boy starting to laugh, and start to kick her hands away, while Paige and her were together, Drew became a big part in their relationship. Paiges parents often made Paige babysit Drew, and Y/n just tagged along. Through that time, Drew and Y/n became close, Y/n considered him as a baby brother. She would miss him.

“Paigeyy help me” Drew screamed laughing. Y/n became stiff, the hair behind her neck stood. She could feel her ex behind her as she let the little boy go and stand up.

Paige and Y/n stared at one another. Paige was thankful her teammates weren’t around right now, they would be on her ass all day after this.

“Hi” Y/n whispered, looking away from her and to the ground.

“Hey” Paige said back. “How’ve you been-“

“Paige please no small talk, what do you want?” Y/n cut her off. This was already awkward enough, no need to make it even more.

“Uh” Paige stuttered, a sigh coming after. “I missed you” Paige admitted. Y/n’s blood boiled, now she missed me?

Paige could sense Y/n anger, she placed a hand on Y/n elbow, tugging her from leaving. “Please just wait” Paige pleaded “I’m sorry, i just didn’t know what to do i kept having all of this kind of feelings and i know i was busy but i swear just one more chance-“

“Paige” y/n cut her off

“- and i’ll promise i’ll try harder-“ paige continued

“-stop-“ she tried to stop her

“please just give me one more chance”

“-okay” she agreed. Paiges eyes went wide, she didn’t think she would get her to agree that easy.

“I only needed you to apologize P, i only want you to make some time for me thats all. And if were really trying this again you have to be sure you want this because i don’t know if i can handle loosing you again” She said still looking at the ground.

Paiges heart dropped hearing her voice break. Although she knew how Y/n felt, Paige had been nothing but moody,grumpy and miserable these past few months. Seeing Y/n today, brought her hope that she had a second shot with her.

Y/n slowly picked up her head, and looked up at Paige. Paige was jaw dropping hot, and she knew that, her head couldn’t get any bigger by her ego.

Paige reached a hand towards her waist, pulling Y/n towards her. When she did, she slowly dropped a sweet kiss on her girlfriends lips, when she pulled away, her forehead dropped to Y/n’s.

She felt like she could finally breathe, her chest no longer hurt. She had her lifeline back.

✩

#Spotify #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers imagine #huskies #uconn #nika muhl #azzi fudd #aaliyah edwards #paige bueckers headcannons #wnba #lesbian

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changbinlov3r · 2 days

Text

Unwritten | B.C. | Part 1

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Summary: the only thing your best friend ever asked was for you to not fall for her older brother, but what should you do when you come back home for the summer and he seems like the most irresistible man in the world?

Genre: nonidol!au, fluff, angst, smut

Words count: ± 12,710

Warnings: other than reader is fucking oblivious, there's none for this part but this fic WILL contain +18 themes so minors DO NOT INTERACT.

Don't forget to support my writing by ✨reblogging✨

A/N: Yeri and reader are 2 years younger than Chan and for the sake of context Chan is 21 in this fic.

A/N²: so I have been writing this fic for a few months ☠️ and the plan was to have one big ass chapter but you know me(my dad didn't give me love so I need validation) so I'm going to post this story in 2 parts 😚 I hope you guys like it 🫶🏻

When you were fourteen, you met your best friend. Yeri and you clicked right away, since then you knew you two were meant to be.

Yeri had transferred schools and you thought it was strange that she never mentioned any of her old friends but she could be shy about it so you never asked.

The first and only thing Yeri ever asked you was to not like her older brother. Christopher, nicknamed Chan, was the most popular boy in her school and that's how you found out why she never mentioned any of her friends.

Turns out people only befriended Yeri because of her brother and when he rejected one of her friends, who was pretty popular, the girl and her whole group of friends turned against Yeri and made her life a living hell.

That's how she ended up in your school and after Chan got into a fight because of the bullying situation with her friends, he decided to finish high school in an all boys academy.

He was 16 when you met him for the first time and at the time you didn't understand what people saw in him and to be fair he never gave you any reason to like him. So when Yeri asked you to not fall for him, you laughed promising that that would never happen. How could you ever like him? He makes his life's mission to annoy you, since the first moment he laid eyes on you he made you his target, he would find anything to make fun of you.

For example, the first time you drank alcohol. You and Yeri stole a bottle of whisky from her father's collection when you were 15, you got so intoxicated that you threw up a few hours later and ended up falling asleep right there on the toilet with your hair full of vomit.

Chan found you in the morning, if you didn't know him well you'd think he was worried as he shook you awake, but the moment he saw you opening your eyes, he took his phone out of his pocket and took a bunch of pictures of you, pictures that he would use to blackmail you later on.

He did take the blow for the stolen whisky, his father took his car for a whole month and that's how you ended up being basically his servant for that month. He would make you go to the convenience store with him, saying he wouldn't be able to bring things back home all by himself. He would use you as his personal clock, telling you to wake him the time he decided like a fucking alarm. He would make you watch his games and cheer for him, while Yeri would send you apologetic smiles while watching you go through that since it was her idea to steal her father's whisky. Chan wouldn't stop torturing you even after Yeri begged him.

However, when he got his car back, he stopped using you as his servant. He even started picking you and Yeri at school after class, you guessed that he felt guilty about all the things he put you through but he never apologized for it.

When you got into your dream university, you felt the happiest. Yours and Yeri’s family made a barbecue together to celebrate that the both of you got into the schools you two wanted but you were going to different universities.

Yeri got into the same university as her brother, he got a scholarship with their music program two years before the both of you and Yeri got in to study liberal arts. You, on the other hand, wanted to study History and you also landed a scholarship since your grades were always the best in school and you did a bunch of extra curricular activities that would look good on your register.

You and Yeri cried your eyes out when you both had to separate, it was the most heartbreaking moment of your life. Never for a moment since you met her did you imagine staying away from her for more than a day and now you would go basically six months without seeing each other — in the worst case scenario, a whole year. Why did you two have to go to schools that are basically across the country from each other?

“We'll facetime every day”, Yeri mumbles almost inaudibly because of her sobs.

“Yes, don't worry”, you smile, holding her by the shoulders while tears fell down from your eyes.

“Jezz, you're not dying, you're just going to different schools”, Chan roll his eyes, passing through to finish storing his sister's bags in the car.

“You're saying that because you'll have her all to yourself”, you roll your eyes, whipping your tears.

“And I should be happy about that because…?” He teases, making you want to punch him in the face.

“If you don't want to, then let's exchange places”, you fire back, feeling annoyed already.

“Unless you have studied 4 semesters of music and know how to produce and write songs, I don't think you can take my place”, he says, condescending.

“Fuck off, it mustn't be hard to just mix tracks and write words in a paper”, you say angrily. You know that's not what he does, Chan is very talented and it takes a whole lot of love for music to be as good as he is but you want to piss him off, so you said what you said.

“You just insulted a whole profession with a sentence, congratulations”, he huffs his eyes, “let's go before I tell dad who really stole his whisky”

“You're so childish, it's been years, when are you going to stop bringing that up?” Yeri huffs, letting go of your goodbye hug.

“Who knows”, he opens the driver's door, “maybe one day y/n will do something else that's gonna make me forget about that”, he winks at you, before giving you a smug smile and going into the car. For a moment there, just for a moment you felt a wave of heat on your lower stomach and maybe, just maybe you found Chan attractive? Nah, that's not possible, all the emotion of the moment must be messing with your head.

You give your last kiss on Yeri’s cheek and watch her entering the car, waving goodbye at you until the vehicle disappears at the end of the road.

The worst case scenario happened. One year was the time that you had to stay away from your best friend. On your first break, Yeri got stuck in her school preparing for a presentation they would do right when classes started again, she didn't go back home so she could get ready and she crushed it, they filmed the whole thing and she sent it to you, you never felt more proud of her than by seeing her doing what she loves.

On your second break from college your professor offered you a spot on his summer class that would help you on advanced subjects later. The seniors from your major told you he almost never offered that opportunity to anyone and him taking a freshman in was unheard of, so you dreadfully accepted.

Finally on your third break you two managed to free yourselves from the university shackles and got to go back home.

You're currently on a plane, so you're going to get home quicker and won't lose time with your best friend. You were so anxious last night before that you barely slept and forgot to put your phone to charge, so as soon as you got on the plane your phone died. At least you wouldn't have to bother putting it on airplane mode.

Your family is not the most affectionate and that's not bad, their way of showing love was always acts of service rather than physical touch or words of affirmation but when your parents see you, even though they went to visit you at school, both of them cry and hug you like they haven't seen you in years.

You appreciate being cherished by them, even though you never really care about how they showed they love for you, now you feel truly loved. When your parents feel like they are okay with letting you go, you drop your bags in your room and don't waste any more time, going to Yeri's house.

Will she cry when she sees you? She's such a cry baby, oh you miss her so much. You can't wait to stay awake the whole night talking to her about your college lives, even though you facetime almost everyday it can't even compare to gossiping face to face.

You knock on the door a few times, something you're not used to doing but after so long without going to visit it seems disrespectful to just barge in. No one answers though, but you hear the sounds of splashing in the backyard. You can't believe Yeri went to the pool first thing when she came home rather than go looking for you, but you decide to not hold that against her since it's so hot you feel like you could melt any time now.

You decide to go directly to the backyard to surprise her, so you open the side gate and walk slowly, careful to not make much noise while sneaking on her. What you didn't expect was to not find Yeri, but Hyunjin, Chan's friend there, laughing about something while scrolling on his phone.

He didn't take long to notice you, eyeing you up and down and smirking. He didn't have the time to say anything, though, since Chan came out of the water at that moment, splashing water on his friend. The first thing you noticed was how muscular he had gotten over this brief period of time you didn't see each other. The droplets of water run slowly on his skin and the smile he gives you when he sees you could positively melt you more than the hot weather.

“Hey”, he says, putting his hands on the pool's border, raising his body up to help himself out of the water. And the moment you see his whole body, you hiccup.

Oh my god, are you nervous? Why would you be nervous close to your best friend's annoying brother? For fuck sake, get your shit together, are you in need to get laid? It's been so long you slept with someone that now you are lusting over anyone?

“Hi”, you wave, shyly. It's easier said than done, you just can't move, you really are nervous.

“What's up with the glow up?” Hyunjin asks you, as always very rude.

“What's up with your face? Got uglier?” You fire back, making him laugh.

“You wish I'd give you a chance”, he rolls his eyes, “give up, I won't even give you the time of day”, he throws his hair to the side, scoffing.

You roll your eyes, huffing. That's just how your relationship with him works, Hyunjin doesn't have to do much to piss you off, he and Chan are the perfect best friends.

“Hm, where's Yeri?” You ask, avoiding looking at Chan, his body is distracting and you can't let him catch you eyeing him up. He kept getting closer while you talked with Hyunjin so his distance right now is not the safest for your sanity.

“What do you mean?” He frowns, “her flight got delayed because of a wind storm, she told me she texted you about it”

You sigh, there was no better moment for your phone to have died than right when your best friend needed to talk to you.

“My phone died when I got to the plane and I haven't had the time to charge it yet”, you start mumbling, “is she okay? When is she coming?”

“Yeah, she's okay”, Chan says, blinking a few times to assimilate the information you just gave him. “She'll be here tomorrow morning, probably”

“Okay”, you nod, calming down but frown immediately. “But why are you here?” You ask and he smirks, tilting his head to the side.

“I live here”

You huff, rolling your eyes.

“You know what I meant. Shouldn't you both have traveled together?”

“We would have if she didn't bomb in one of her classes, also, I finished mine earlier this year so I came back sooner”

“Ah, okay”, you nod, “I'll go back home, then. I'll come back when Yeri arrives”

Immediately after finishing your sentence, Chan steps close to you, as if he would hold you in place but he stops before doing anything.

“Why don't you stay a bit longer?” He asks. “It's hot, you can enjoy the pool while you're here”

You think about it for a moment, before shaking your head.

“I didn't even bring a swimsuit and I'd rather not stay in the same space as that guy”, you stick your tongue out to Hyunjin, who's paying attention to his phone.

“I'll drive you back home, then”, Chan says right away.

“There's no need”, you shake your head again, chuckling, “my house is barely twenty minutes away”

“But it's super hot today”, he points out, “I won't feel comfortable letting you go home walking”, he finishes and for the first time in your life, you don't wanna fight back. Actually, his serious tone made your face grow hotter.

“Alright”, you nod and he smiles, telling you to wait for him to change clothes and that he'll be back soon. He gives you the keys to his car, so you can turn on the AC while you wait for him.

As always, Chan's car is neat just like his personality. Everything is organized and there's no trash or dirt, you start the car, closing the doors so you can feel the cold air.

You hold your hair up, taking the scrunchie off of your wrist to tie your hair, but it falls on the floor, making you groan and bend down to look for it. You can't really see down the seat, so you just tap on the floor trying to feel the fabric of your scrunchie but what you find is much more interesting. A bra. You feel your whole face hot, throwing it back beneath the seat the moment you see what the piece of cloth you're holding is. Woah, who would have guessed that Chan has bitches? And even though you feel a weird feeling in your chest, you think that everyone has their own taste so of course someone would like him even though he's the most annoying man on earth.

You got curious though, is she pretty? The girl he's seeing. She's probably super pretty, he has always been popular, of course he won't accept someone that's less than pretty. You did see a girl on his Instagram account, maybe she's his girlfriend.

You're taken out of your thoughts with the sound of the driver's door opening. Chan enters the car, fastening his seatbelt while starting the car.

“It's been a while since we last saw each other”, he says, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“Right? Who'd guess Yeri and I would have so many things come up, I'm dying to see her”, you finish excitedly.

“I was actually talking about you and I”, he answers and you look at him, seeing the man chewing on his bottom lip.

“Oh?” You frown, why would he? You're not even friends, “I guess it has really been a long while”, you nod.

You stay silent, not really understanding the ambiance and why you swear there's some tension there.

“How about school? Are you seeing anyone?” He asks, trying to change the subject.

“Hm, it's cool, I like what I'm studying”, you fidget with your fingers, “and no, I'm not seeing anyone”, you sigh, “there's just not really anyone that caught my eye I guess”, you tell him and you swear you can see a faint smile on his lips but before you can ask him about his girlfriend, he parks in front of your house.

“We are here”, Chan turns to you. You didn't even notice you were arriving already.

“Thank you for the ride, Chan. I'll see you tomorrow”, you tell him, getting out of the car and waving goodbye to him before walking to your door.

You find your phone thrown on the top of your bed, charging him just to find almost a hundred calls and texts from Yeri, talking about the chaos, the whole flight confusion and saying sorry she wouldn't get to see you right now.

You facetime her, waiting a few seconds and in a moment her bright smile shows up on the screen.

“Girl, I thought your plane had crashed”, it's the first thing she says.

“And why don't I see puffy eyes and despair in your voice?” You ask, ironically, making her roll her eyes.

“I doubt you'd let yourself die that way”, she informs you, “anyways, why couldn't I reach out to you?”

“My phone died and I hurried to see you right when I got home”, you smile sheepishly.

“Oh, was Chris home?” She asks and you nod, “that's good, my parents are out of town until next week, you'd have been stuck outside if he wasn't there”

“Yeah”, you nod, remembering the scene of Chan slipping out of the pool, how his wet swim trunks hugged his thighs and the water drops falling from his hair on his plump lips.

“Are you listening?” You hear Yeri say in a higher pitch, she always does that to catch your attention. Your face turns hot in an instant, what are those gross thoughts? You're going crazy, that's the only answer possible.

“I dozed off, couldn't sleep well because I was so excited to see you”, you make something up that is not entirely a lie.

“Ow, you're so cute”, she squeals, “I was gonna surprise you but since I'm gonna be late I'll tell you now”, Yeri says.

“What's it?”

“I'm taking my boyfriend with me on this trip”, Yeri giggles, making you frown instantly.

“What boyfriend?”

“You know, Minhwan, the guy I have been talking about for months now?” She declares as if it's obvious.

“The one who left you on read for an entire week and then came after you at a party just because you were with another guy?” You ask, incredulous.

“Yeah, he said he was sorry about that”, she giggles.

“Girl”, that's the only thing you can say, you can't believe your best friend is settling for that.

“What about you? Any hot guys on the plane?” She asks, changing the subject before you can nag her about her choice in men.

“Nah, an old couple seated by my side and they tried to set me up with their grandson”

“Oh? Did they show you pics? Was he handsome?” Yeri asks, excitedly.

“He's 39”, you tell her, smiling painfully, “they told me he’s nice and has two kids”

“Well, babes, we both know you're better alone”, your friend tries to cheer you up and you nod, agreeing with her, even though at that moment the only thing going through your mind is this crazy thought about Chan: what if?

You cry like an idiot when Yeri arrives, you missed her so much and you didn't even notice how much until you saw her again.

“You look so pretty”, you tell her, making her spin around so you can have a look. “I see college made you hotter”, you give her a thumbs up.

“Look who's talking”, she giggles, “I'm going to have to be your bodyguard this summer, guys are going to line up to see you”

You laugh, rolling your eyes and before you can say anything else, someone clears their throat, making you look in their direction just to see Yeri’s boyfriend there.

“Oh! This is my boyfriend, Minhwa”, she introduces you two. He gives you a charming smile, while sticking his hand to you.

“Hey”, he says, waiting for you to shake it, while you stare at him.

You don't like him, he seems like bad news, but is forced to shake his hand when your friend elbows you and whispers “be nice”

“Yeah, hi”, you say, not trying to hide your dissatisfaction but shaking his hand anyways. Just on time a loud horn sounds behind you, rescuing you from the awkward conversation that was about to happen.

“Chris is here”, Yeri squeals, grabbing her bags on the floor and walking to the car to greet her brother, who's already scolding her as soon as she lets go of his hug.

You watch Minhwan walk behind her and wait to be acknowledged by Chan, who eyes him up and down and glances at you. You shrug, shaking your head and he takes a deep breath, while Yeri introduces the two.

The trip back to their house is quiet, Yeri and her boyfriend go on the backseat while she talks about the city and shows him things of our childhood. He doesn't look all that interested but also doesn't tell her to stop talking.

When Chan parks the car, the couple gets out first, while you close your eyes, leaning back on the passenger seat, taking a deep breath.

“I guess no one thought that's her type”, Chan says, watching you opening your eyes slowly and turning your head to look at him.

“I don't think he's anyone's type”, you whisper and Chan chuckles.

“So you don't like a man who ignores you and then acts like nothing happened?” He teases, tilting his head to the side, making you chuckle.

“No, I like a man who shows how much he likes me”, you inform him, but the way Chan looks at you has a meaning you’re not sure you understand. He bites his bottom lip, nodding.

“That's good to know”, he says before opening the door and getting out of the car.

You frown, the way he's acting since you met him again is so weird. You definitely don't understand him.

After unpacking and updating you on a bunch of things, Yeri invites you to go to the pool. The day is sunny and hot, as expected of a typical summer afternoon. Chan invited his friends too, so Minhwa is basically the only stranger to you all.

Your best friend makes you wear a bikini, something you're not used to. You always try to cover yourself with a shirt or at least a swimsuit, not really confident about your body, but she’s not having it today saying that except for Minhwa everyone there has known you for years. You end up giving in, wearing the piece of fabric she provided to you.

“Just a question: is this supposed to cover me?” You ask, really wondering.

“You’re such a prude sometimes”, Yeri rolls her eyes. “This shows just enough, don’t worry about it”, she comforts you, but you’re not sure if it works. ‘Just enough’ for her surely is not enough for you. You decide to suck it up anyways, she’s right, everyone there except her boyfriend knows you since you were a teen, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

That’s what you thought, at least. You’re sure there’s nothing much to look at but then why do you feel Chan’s eyes burning a hole in your body? You didn’t do anything to make him mad, so you’re not sure why he’s staring at you so intensely.

You sit on one of the chairs after greeting everyone, watching as Yeri jumps in the pool with her boyfriend, giggling and kissing him. You may not like him but it’s good to see her this happy.

You close your eyes, laying down on the chair, the sun is burning your skin when something is thrown at you. You open your eyes, a frown on your face while you stare at a towel. Your eyes wander to the figure by your side, just to find Chan standing there.

“What’s this?” You ask, lifting the towel off you.

“That’s for you to cover yourself, that thing you’re wearing is not doing the job properly”, he says, pointing at your bikini.

“Excuse me?” You ask, shocked.

“You’re excused, now please, cover up”, he repeats, looking around. He avoids looking at you when you toss the towel back to him.

“Fuck off”, you say, closing your eyes again, hearing him huff. Why does he have to be an asshole about this? Are you that ugly he can't bear one afternoon looking at your body?

You think Chan is going to leave you alone now, when you hear his footsteps fading away but then the sound of something being dragged hits your ears and you open your eyes again to see Chan bringing the chair closer to you.

“If you’re not going to cooperate, I might as well stay here to bother you”, he grins, comfortably sitting.

“Are you for real?” You roll your eyes, you thought this childish urge he has to annoy you had disappeared but clearly you were wrong. He ignores you, scrolling on his phone while he hums some stupid song he must have come up with.

After some time, you go into the pool, joking around with Yeri and playing games with the others. Chan is still there when you go back, watching you. If you didn’t know better you’d think he’s eye fucking you by the way he’s staring and it's scary how the thought that you wouldn’t mind if he really was comes to you mind.

You sigh, these strange thoughts keep appearing in your mind, you have to get over this before someone starts to notice, worse, before he starts noticing. You sit on your chair, taking your sunscreen out of your bag, applying it on your arms and face, on your chest, stomach and legs. You can’t reach your back, though and everyone is too engrossed in their playing for you to call someone to help, except Chan. You look at him discreetly, thinking if that’s a good idea, maybe you should just call it a day and go inside.

“Do you need some help?” He asks before you get to make your decision.

“Hm”, you try thinking fast, now much more nervous than before, “yeah”, you give in.

Chan smirks, stretching his hand to you so you can give him the sunscreen tube. You turn your back to him, without saying anything, not really wanting to prolong this awkward situation.

You hear the sound of the lotion being splashed in his hand and then the sound of him brushing his hands to spread the product, you won’t ever admit it but you’re dying with the anticipation of his hands on your skin. His long, strong fingers brush against your shoulder blades, spreading the sunscreen gently, massaging it for longer than necessary but you’re not complaining about it.

You feel your cheeks grow hotter, his hands go down to your lower back, putting more lotion on the area and caressing your skin. You shouldn’t feel this excited about it, you know you shouldn’t but the heat you feel on your lower stomach is not something you can control.

You get goosebumps when you feel his breathing too close to your skin, making you shiver.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” He murmurs, making your eyes grow wide. You turn around fast looking at him just to find him staring right back at you, lips stuck between his teeth and the corners of his goddamn sexy mouth upturned in a cocky smile. Before you can even answer him, your phone rings, making you jump out of the chair to at least a meter away from the man.

You pick your phone up, listening to your mom's voice asking you what you want for dinner, saying you weren't answering her texts.

“I-I'll go home now and we can go grocery shopping”, you stutter, trying to recompose yourself, trying to make your heartbeat go back to normal.

She answers telling you to hurry up then, because it's almost time to make dinner. You don't even look back at Chan, you can't really, he must've misspoken, there's no way he asked you that with an ulterior motive, there's no way. But even though you're telling yourself that you can't control the heat radiating from your cheeks, from your whole body actually.

You collect your things, running to Yeri in the pool and telling her you're going home, then you hurry back inside to change and run back home, still embarrassingly flustered.

You feel distracted the whole trip to the grocery store, you talk with your mom automatically, not really paying attention to anything other than the memories of Chan's hands on your skin, burning every bit he touched.

You're debating with yourself which snacks you should buy for your sleepover with Yeri in the weekend when you hear your name being called.

“y/n? Oh my god, it's been ages”, Yuna, a classmate from your highschool times approaches you.

“Oh, hi!” You smile at her, she was always very nice with you and Yeri when you studied together. “It really has been a long time”, you nod.

“Are you on break? Your mom told mine that you went to that school you always dreamed about”, she asks excitedly.

“Yeah, I'm visiting”, you look around to see if you can find your mom, you don't want to believe that you got lost even though you're a grown up.

“You know what? My boyfriend is throwing a party this friday, why don't you come?” She smiles, “bring Yeri too, I miss her”, she says.

“Oh, yeah”, you nod, “I'll talk to her and let you know”

“You still have the same phone number?” Yuna asks.

“I do. You can text me the details”, you smile at her. “Oh, my mom is here”, you point at the older woman, pointing to the watch on her wrist for you to hurry up.

“Okay, see you!” Yuna waves goodbye to you and your mom while she walks away.

You go out with Yeri alone for the first time since you met after all this time. She left Minhwa with Chan and the other guys, meeting you in the mall after. You visit every store in there, buying clothes and trying weird things you would never spend money on but can have a good laugh at.

“Yuna? She's nice”, Yeri says, putting on orange pants.

“Yeah, she texted me the details yesterday”, you look at her choice of clothes disgustingly, like you're any better wearing a large shirt with tiger print on it.

“We should go”, she nods, taking the piece of fabric off. “And then Saturday we can do our little sleepover in my house”

“Okay, I'll tell her we'll be there”, you watch as she turns to look at you. “Hm… I meant to ask you before but didn't get the chance… How's it? To see Hyunjin after a while?” You ask, cautiously. You have been avoiding this subject since Yeri is dating someone else now, but you couldn't help but notice the few glances she still throws at her childhood love.

“Oh, I'm fine”, she smiles without looking in your eyes and you know she's lying.

Yeri liked Hyunjin for a long time, even though he never gave her any signs that he liked her back. So when she got into college, she promised she would do anything to forget him.

“Are you sure?” You press, not really wanting to force her to tell the truth but also trying to show that you care.

“Yeah”, she smiles at you and look into your eyes, “and even if I'm not, I'm sure I'll be fine soon”

You pout, walking to her and opening your arms for a hug.

“My poor baby, you went through a lot but everything will be fine”, you caress her back while she wraps her arms around your waist. “I love you and that's all that matters”, you say proudly, making her laugh.

“Shall we buy some clothes for the party?” She lifts her head to peek at you and you laugh.

“Anything for you”, you answer, sighing.

You definitely shouldn't let Yeri choose your clothes for any event. You should have already learned that but every time she'll ask with puppy eyes and you'll give in because you can't say no to your best friend. So even though her clothing tastes are a lot more extravagant than yours, you always have hope that she'll choose something modest. But that's never the case and this time is no different.

She chose a black dress that can barely cover your ass, it has a cleavage so low you're not sure your boobs won't just pop out of there if you move too hastily. You put on safety shorts just to be sure, you don't want anyone to have a peek at your panties and also a strapless bra to make sure they are safe and sound right there.

You still feel exposed, but with Yeri hyping you up the whole time she helps you get ready, you start thinking that you don't look so bad. You do your own makeup, too afraid of what she'll try on you and you leave your hair down, carrying a hair tie on your wrist just in case it gets too hot.

You, Yeri and Minhwa take an uber to the party. It's already possible to listen to the loud music when the car is turning on the corner, dropping you three a bit far from the house since even the street is crowded.

You didn't even know there was a house this big in your town, it has a big garden, three floors and a pool that's probably the size of your house.

“You came!” You hear a squeal as soon as you enter the door to the house. Yuna comes running in your direction, hugging Yeri. “Girl, it's been so long”

“We need to catch up”, your best friend says excitedly, turning to Minhwa and introducing him to Yuna.

“You didn't bring your boyfriend?” Yuna asks you, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“I don't have one”, you answer.

“Oh? Ah, I see”, she seems confused, looking like she's trying to remember something. “Don't worry I'll help you find someone nice today”, she grabs your hand reassuringly, pulling you three to the middle of the crowd before you can say you're not interested in her proposition.

You see some familiar faces along the way, some people that attended the same school as you and some friends of Chan. You managed to not think about him for a couple of hours, not letting his voice appear in your mind just to make you confused. You even avoided going to Yeri's house, inviting her to get ready at yours.

Yuna stops you all when she meets a group of people, she introduces you all to her boyfriend and his friends. There are some girls there, pretty girls that make you a bit uncomfortable. Because they are naturally pretty and you suddenly feel like you're trying too hard just to look decent.

You fidget unconformably on your tiny dress, feeling embarrassed now. Everyone is talking but you feel left out, maybe it’s just your overthinking.

“Hey”, you hear a masculine voice right next to you, making you turn around to look at the guy. He's cute, a bit taller than you.

“Hi”, you smile, waving at him awkwardly, not needed to say that you're not very good at flirting.

“Jihoon!” Yuna says, “I was going to introduce you to y/n tonight”, she smirks.

“I think I remember her from school”, he answers, eyeing you and then he laughs with your panicked face, you don't remember him at all. “It's okay if you don't remember me, I was always buried in books and I basically slept in the science club”

“Oh, yeah”, you nod, “maybe that's it, I don't think I ever visited the science club in high school”, you laugh, making him smile.

“Why don't you get something to drink together?” Yuna suggests, winking at you.

“Sure”, you nod, looking at him who just shrugs. “Sorry about that, apparently she really wants to set me up with someone”, you tell him when you start walking together.

“I don't mind”, he chuckles, “not if it's a pretty girl she's trying to set me up with”, he grins at you, making you blush.

He's someone comfortable to talk to, you two start sharing stories about your school years, teachers you both recall and weird things that happened. You chose a beer to drink, it helps you talk more freely. Jihoon tells you that he just got out of a long term relationship and that Yuna is only trying to help, making you laugh, telling him you never had a boyfriend so you're not sure why she's so set on finding someone for you.

After an hour or so goes by, you already drank more than you're supposed to, laughing too much at the not so funny jokes Jihoon is telling. When a song you like starts playing, you grab his hand, pulling him to the dancefloor with you. You do feel a bit more bold when you have a little too much to drink, so you put your arms around Jihoon’s neck, pressing your body against his. He doesn't waste time, wrapping your waist with his arms, resting his hands on your lower back. You start grinding on him, hips moving with the music playing in the background.

You two look at each other and laugh and you feel like you could definitely kiss him at that moment if it wasn't for the strong hold you feel on your wrist before you're yanked away from the man who looks extremely confused while you're dragged away.

You look at the person who's pulling you out of the house, you know that back too well for your own good.

“Chan?” You ask, even though you know it's him. “Let go of me”, you yell now, trying to stop him and get out of his grip. But he's too strong, he only releases you when you're far away from the house.

“What are you thinking?” He turns to you, face red in anger.

“That's something I should be asking”, you scowl, surprised with his reaction, you don't think you have ever seen Chan that mad.

“You were rubbing yourself on that guy in the middle of a party!” He grunts, “and what's that you're wearing?” He scowls, pointing at your clothes.

“It's a dress”, you say, sheepishly. The way he's looking at you makes you feel embarrassed.

“That shouldn't even be called clothing, it's just a piece of fabric”, Chan sighs, “did Yeri make you dress like that?” He asks, looking around to try and calm himself.

“She didn't make me do anything I didn't want to”, you tell him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I'm not a child, I can take care of myself”, you say. “And what's it to you if I was rubbing on some dude? I could be fucking him in the middle of the crowd and you still wouldn't have anything to do with it”, you spit it out, feeling mad out of nowhere. He should be worrying about his girlfriend, not his sister's best friend.

“Are you sure you're not a child?” He asks, sarcastically. “You sure act like one sometimes”

“Fuck you, Christopher”, you yell, feeling the blood boiling in your body. You're so mad at him, why is he acting like this all of a sudden? He has no right to treat you like this, even if he's Yeri's brother. You turn around, leaving him behind and walking to the opposite side of the party, a walk may calm you down, you need to go home anyways.

Except that you feel his presence right behind you, throwing glances at him for five minutes until you stop completely.

“Stop following me”, you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I won't let you go home by yourself, look at the hour”, he scoffs.

“I would if someone hadn't dragged me out of the party”, you huff, “my phone is inside my purse and Yeri has it”, you tell him, making him feel guilty.

Chan didn't think it through, the moment he saw you in another guy's arms he saw red, he didn't want to cause a scene but also couldn't control himself.

“I'll go back there and pick it up for you”, he grumbles embarrassedly.

“You should have thought about it before you pulled me out of there like that”, you say angrily, “you're Yeri's brother, not mine. I don't need you to look out for me like you do to her”, you sigh. This whole situation makes you sober up so fast that your head hurts.

“It's not the same”, he murmurs, frowning, “y/n, I don't see you like a little sister”, he says like it's obvious. “The reason I take care of you is not the same reason why I take care of Yeri”

“Well, mister Bang, please enlighten me with the difference, then. Because I have no clue and it fucking sucks”, you tell him, sarcastically.

He opens his mouth to say something but his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, saving him from whatever stupid thing he was gonna confess to you.

“She’s with me”, he says, when he hears Yeri's panicked voice because you disappeared, “I'll take her home, take care of her things”, he says before hanging up.

“I don't need you to take me home”, you tell him as soon as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Let's not discuss this right now”, he sighs, “my car is nearby, listen to me just this once”, he pleads, making you huff.

“Fine”, you roll your eyes and say “lead the way”

The car ride back home is silent, you don't want to talk to Chan. He has been acting weird since you met each other again after so long and that makes you mad because you thought that now you both would be adults enough to stop annoying each other, but maybe you were wrong.

“You should stop meddling in my business”, you tell him as soon as he parks in front of your house. “Let's be mature from now on, I won't mess with you and you do the same for me”, you tell him but Chan doesn't answer, he just stares at you like he's analyzing something and you definitely don't like that. He smirks next, throwing you off.

“Don't wanna”, he shrugs, “I'm going to do whatever I want from now on”

You sigh, shaking your head, it's already time for you to stop trying to understand this guy.

“You should keep calling me Christopher though, I liked it”, he points out, amused, making you frown.

“Good night, Chan”, you huff, opening the door of the car and getting off. You don't look back while walking to your house, that man makes you so mad it's driving you insane.

The whole point of calling him Chan is because he doesn't like being called that, you're the only person who does and it's just to annoy him and you won't entertain his antics since he doesn't want to leave you alone.

You wake up with the sound of the door of your room being closed with too much strength, making you groan in annoyance, your head hurting like crazy. You open your eyes slowly, trying to get used to the light coming through the windows, just to find Yeri standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed and eyes narrowed while watching you.

“How could you disappear last night?” She says, “I was so scared when I couldn't find you and then I freaked out when that guy you were with told me someone dragged you out”

You rub your eyes, watching your friend scold you. You can't believe you're being lectured about something that's not even your fault. 'Go fight your brother', you want to tell her, but for some reason you feel like you shouldn't.

“I'm sorry, I was drunk”, it's not entirely a lie, you were indeed drunk but you don't need to tell her that that was not the reason for your disappearance.

“Well who was the person who dragged you out?” She asks, brushing off your apology.

“I don't remember”, you lie again, feeling mad at yourself. Why are you lying to your best friend? Why are you scared to tell her it was her brother the one that made a scene because you were dancing with Jihoon?

“Stay close to me next time, okay? I'll make sure no one's gonna hurt you”, she huffs, pouting.

“Okay, thank you”, you smile. “Is everything alright for our sleepover today?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, Minhwa gave the idea of having a bonfire, tonight is supposed to be cold”, she says, talking about the things you should go buy, the snacks and the drinks.

“Oh, okay”, you nod, you didn't stop to think that her boyfriend would be with you two on your sleepover.

“I'll wait for you downstairs, hurry up and get ready”, she hushes you, clapping her hands.

You get up begrudgingly, dragging yourself out of the bed straight to the bathroom. Only a shower can help you feel better right now.

Your head is pounding and your stomach is hurting, you want to throw up and go back to sleep but you know Yeri won't leave you alone.

You don't know why Chan shows up on your mind when the hot water hits your skin, you feel your head more clear but your best friend's brother is intoxicating your brain.

You shake your head, like that's going to make you forget about his existence. You better distract yourself with other things so these thoughts won't show up when you're with Yeri.

After putting on some comfortable clothes, you go down, meeting your best friend there. She's talking to your parents about the things you're going to be doing for the day.

“I'll be back tomorrow”, you tell your mom, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Take care of her, old man”, you tell your dad, hugging him.

Both of them chuckle, knowing you do that just to annoy them.

“How did you end up with Chris yesterday, by the way?” Yeri asks, when you get out of the house.

“We just met by chance”, you say, still not feeling like it's right to tell her he was the one who made that scene the day before.

“Well”, she sighs, “don't you think he's acting weird lately? Did anything happen?” She presses, making your heart beat faster, as if you did something wrong.

“I don't know, maybe he broke up with his girlfriend or something”, you shrug.

“I don't think he has one, though”, she points out, making you snap your head to look at her.

“He doesn't?” You ask, shocked.

“At least he never told me about a girlfriend”, she says, making your heart skip a bit. What about that bra in his car? Is he just a player then? Maybe he fucks girls left and right and doesn't settle with just one person. Why does that thought make you feel worse than thinking he has a girlfriend?

It bothers you for the rest of the day, while you're grocery shopping, when you're on your trip to Yeri's house, when you start preparing things for the sleepover: why is Chan acting so weird lately? You thought he had a girlfriend so his behavior didn't mean anything to you until now. Now, there's a possibility that you have a chance with him and that scares you, not just because you think he may be a player who's going to seduce you and then pretend it never happened, but the fact that your promise to Yeri is not stopping you from lusting over her brother.

It's so weird having Minhwa with you two, you feel like you can't really let it all out because he's a stranger but you won't say that out loud since Yeri looks genuinely happy with his presence there. You all set the bonfire and are enjoying the night view while drinking some beers and talking. You two recall stories about your teenage years laughing about situations that made you two cry at that time. When you see your best friend rubbing her eyes and yawning, you know she's gonna call it a night. Yeri holds on for about one hour more until she tells you she's tired and wants to go to sleep. You're still full of energy so you tell her to go on first.

The temperature did drop, making you cover yourself with a blanket while you stare at the flames in the bonfire. The sound of the crickets in the distance makes you feel calm and the quiet of the night makes your mind go somewhere it shouldn't.

You have your thoughts interrupted by the one and only person guilty of those thoughts. You hear footsteps in the grass just to turn around and find Chan, walking towards you. He sits on the bench, right by your side, even though there are plenty of places he could sit on.

“Yeri already went to bed?” He asks, opening a can of beer and taking a sip.

“Yeah, she was tired”, you tell him. “Turns out she can't hold her liquor”, you joke.

“And you can?” He teases, making you roll your eyes.

“Yes, I do. I can go up to three or four bottles”, you brag, making him chuckle.

“I guess I won't find you sleeping in the bathroom again, then”, he says, making you turn around ready to argue, just to find him closer than you expected, more than you're used to.

“You should forget about that”, you whisper, trying to recompose yourself, forgetting your anger and just staring at his lips, looking down immediately.

“Should I?” He asks and you nod, feeling your cheeks grow hotter.

“Yeah, that was a long time ago”

“I guess you’re right”, he nods, tilting his head. “Maybe you should give me something else to think about”, Chan bites on his bottom lip, raising a brow in questioning.

“You have a suggestion?” You ask, chuckling, the atmosphere heavier at each second.

Chan stares at you for a moment, glancing from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, making you smile amusedly, realizing he’s trying to prank you.

“Why would you want to kiss me?” You roll your eyes, making him frown.

“I wonder if you really don't know or are just pretending”, Chan says.

You feel your breath stuck in your throat, feeling your heart start beating faster and faster.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”, you start saying but he interrupts you.

“I like you, I have liked you for a long time”, he declares.

“You shouldn't joke about that”, you feel your whole face turn red, a burn in your chest.

“I'm not joking, y/n”, he says, making you stare at him.

There’s no way he likes you, it’s impossible, right?

Right?

Before you can even think properly, your lips crash into his. You put your hands on the back of his neck to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. Chan is confused for a moment but it doesn't take long for him to reciprocate your eagerness, brushing his tongue on yours. His hand slips to your hip, squeezing so hard you could feel his nails digging on the skin. His lips are so soft and welcoming, it feels like you never tried anything like it

“Can I ask you something?” Yeri's voice sounds so clear in your head it seems like she's right by your side, “can you please not fall for my brother?”

You put your hands on Chan's chest, pushing him away from you and standing up.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry” you plead, not sure if you're saying that to him or his sister. “I- this was a mistake”, you stumble back almost falling, making Chan stand up to help you but you shake your head, turning around and running out of the gate.

You run without stopping until you get home, you’re breathless and you want to throw up, the butterflies in your stomach are not strong enough to ease the guilt you’re feeling, you can't believe you kissed Chan, you broke your promise.

How can you look in Yeri’s eyes now? You’re so scared now, what if she never wants to see you again? The worst of all is that thinking about the kiss makes your heart flutter and the ghost of a smile grow instantly on your lips before you can get a hold of yourself. You can’t be like this, you can’t be attracted to Chan and you really can’t fall for him, even though you already suspect that this feeling goes beyond just attraction.

You avoid Yeri for a whole week, not trusting yourself to not blurt out everything that happened the moment you see her face. You cried for a while, heartbroken for breaking your promise but also for the feelings that now you have to bury, so you can keep your friendship.

You told her you were sick that's why you went back home that night rather than staying over. It’s not a lie, in your defense you feel sick to your stomach every time you think about seeing her and it’s even worse when you think about Chan. The thought of seeing him again makes you nervous and not the type of guilty nervousness that you should be feeling but the type where you feel your heart flutter. Why did he have to make a move? He could have just kept his feelings to himself, the same way you were trying to do before you two kissed. Chan can have any girl in the world, so why you? You’re pretty, there’s no denying it but there are a hundred more pretty girls he must have met that are not his sister’s best friend.

When Yeri shows up at your door, bringing snacks you want to scream, literally. She looks worried, asking how you’re feeling and inviting you to stay at her house so she can take care of you but you don’t want to step foot in her house ever again — or any place that her brother might be present, for that matter.

“Are you mad at me or something?” She asks, sulking. “Is it because of Minhwa? He’s kinda boring right?” She completes, nervously trying to find out what she did wrong to make you mad.

“I’m not mad”, you sigh, you didn’t want her to think she’s the one at fault when you’re the one who broke the promise you made to her. “I’m just not feeling well lately”, you tell her.

“But did something happen?” She enquiries.

“No, nothing much”, you lie once more, feeling tired from lying so much to your best friend in such a short period of time. “But what about Minhwa being boring?” You ask her, trying to change the subject, her eyes widen immediately. She wasn’t supposed to let that out but she was so nervous that she just blurted it out.

“Well, I may be tired of him already”, she bites on her bottom lip and fidgeting with her hands.

“Girl, I knew this was going to happen”, you shake your head, completely forgetting about all your problems, too involved in the juice. “You aren’t over Hyunjin and it shows!”

“Fuck off”, she sulks, crossing her arms. “You’re so mean to me, I’m going through a hard time”

“Babes, please, you put yourself in this situation when you started dating the guy who ghosted you for an entire week”, you throw it in her face.

“Woah, never thought my best friend would judge me like that”, she sighs dramatically.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes”, you pat her back, “If not me calling you out, then who?”

“You’re right but I won’t admit it”, she nods, tsking. “Wanna go buy ice cream?” She asks out of nowhere.

“Sure, let’s go”, you smile. Just a few minutes with her and you’re already feeling so much better, you don’t think you would ever trade your friendship for the world.

You walk back home with a bag of popsicles, the sun is so strong that you don't think the ice pops are going to arrive intact in your house.

You're listening to Yeri's rant about her soon to be ex boyfriend when you hear the sound of a horn. You close your eyes painfully, you know that sound too well. Your best friend turns around with a big smile on her lips but you don't want to do the same, although you see her smile disappearing in a moment.

“Hey, wanna a ride?” You hear Hyunjin’s voice behind you, forcing you to turn around. He's seated in the passenger's seat while Chan is in the driver's seat, staring at you like he could burn a hole in your body. You can't avoid feeling your cheeks growing hot, you just want to get out of there.

“Yeah, why not?” Yeri says, grabbing the bag from your hands and walking to the car.

“Actually I'm going to walk some more”, you say, making her turn to look at you.

“What? It's hot as hell, why do you want to walk?”

“I don't know, I just feel like it”, you shrug, seeing Chan chuckle inside the car.

“I can accompany you if you want to walk”, he raises a brow, “I wanted to stretch my legs anyway”

You huff, closing your eyes. There's no way out, right?

“I guess it wouldn't be good for me to overdo it since I'm not feeling well”, you say, stepping closer to the car while Yeri goes in.

The ride is silent on your part, you don't want to look at Chan but every time you give in to your curiosity and peek at him, he's staring at you through the rear-view mirror. Yeri talks about everything nervously avoiding looking at Hyunjin but you swear you can see him awkwardly fidgeting in his seat.

When the car stops in front of Yeri's house, you feel your whole body freeze.

“I'm going to take y/n home, I forgot I had to run an errand for dad”, Chan says, making instant panic grow in your body.

“There's no need, I can walk”, you tell him, opening the door of the car.

“Girl? You told me you were not feeling well, he's going that way anyways”, Yeri says, frowning. She's probably confused as to why you don't want to accept the ride. What if she starts suspecting you? What if she starts making questions you don't know how to answer? Chan stares at you with a raised brown, waiting for you to come up with another excuse but you are afraid your best friend is going to realize you're trying to avoid her brother. So you just nod, going into the car again, this time in the passenger seat in the front.

The car goes on quietly throughout the ride, you are fidgeting with your fingers, looking anxiously outside the window, praying that you get home soon. When Chan parks in front of your house, your first instinct is to open the door so you can run out of that situation, but that's when you realize the car is locked.

“Hm, can you let me go?” You murmur, not taking your eyes out of the window.

“Not until you look at me”, he tells you, voice more hoarse than you remember but you do it, you look at him just so he can let you go.

“Happy?” You ask, cheeks burning while you stare at him but the look in his face is the opposite of happiness, he seems hurt.

“Do you hate my feelings for you so much?” He asks, scowling. “If you can't stand the thought of me just say it, don't run away”

You sigh, he looks desperate, like he's going to break apart if you don't hold him right now.

“Chan- I-”, you have no words to tell him. “I made a promise to your sister, that I'd never fall for you”, you tell him, hoping he can understand you.

“What about me? You don't care a bit about me?”

“I do”, you sigh, “but what should I do? You want me to choose between you or Yeri? You know she's my best friend”

“I guess I'm nothing to you, then”, he unlocks the car, bending over you to open the door. “I'm sorry I made you stay”, he murmurs.

“You know that's not what I meant”, you try but he shakes his head.

“It's fine, I came on too strong. I guess I'm just tired of this unrequited love”, he sighs, smiling gently at you but you can see the sadness in his eyes.

Chan has been in love with you since he was 17, when he found you unconscious in the bathroom his heart stopped for a few seconds before he could move and try to wake you. He shook you awake, worriedly, smelling the scent of whisky coming from you, he couldn't believe you had drunk and was blacked out in his bathroom.

When you groaned, fluttering your eyes open he couldn't let you see his face so he just pulled his phone out of his pocket, taking pictures of your face while he chuckled to your rumbles, arguing with him.

Chan didn't accept that he liked you at first. He made you do his tasks for him, go to the store with him and have you cheer for him on his school games, he thought he could prove to himself that he didn't like you like that, but spending so much time with you only made him realize that it was not something small, he liked you for real.

You never looked at him twice but he was okay with that because you were never interested in anyone romantically, so Chan was able to keep his feelings to himself, hoping that one day you would look at him. When he went to college, he thought he would get over you but no one got him slightly interested, all he could think about was the day he would get to see you again when he went back home.

He didn't expect to find you in a relationship when he got back for his first break out of college, well, you never made it official but you were glued to that guy like you’d die if you stayed away from him for a second and it hurt Chan so much to watch you being in love with someone else.

It didn't last long, the guy turned out to be a huge asshole who was two-timing, that's why he never asked you to be his girlfriend. Chan spent so many nights awake in his bed, listening to your cries in Yeri's room, devastated because your first love didn't work out.

Well, Chan was also sad that his first love didn't feel the same about him either so he could understand your pain. When it was time for you to go to college on the other side of the country he hoped once more that he could forget you. Chan wished you'd find someone worth it in college and that the same happened to him so he could let go of his feelings for you.

However, he should have known that his feelings are much deeper than that. When you showed up in the pool that afternoon he honestly thought he was going to throw up. He hadn't seen you in a year and of course he didn't forget how beautiful you are, but there was something different about you and he couldn't quite understand what.

Chan caught you eyeing him up and even though that could mean nothing, he wished that for the first time you were seeing him like he wanted you to. So he started to make moves, nothing obvious, but most certainly provocative. He wanted you to feel charmed by him, he wanted you to pay attention to him.

All his hopes were shattered after you avoided him for an entire week. He really thought that you'd come around soon, that you'd give him a chance. He should have known that you'd never choose him over Yeri and he should be happy about that, right? You're loyal to his sister. But he really wanted you to be his, this time he really hoped you'd be his.

He tries not to bump into you when you're in his house and avoids doing anything with Yeri when she mentions you're coming too. Just like that two weeks go by without him seeing your face, it hurts like hell but he knows it's for the best. You made your decision and he should respect that, he should move on.

So when Hyunjin — who's aware of Chan's struggles with his feelings for you — suggests to set Chan up with a friend of his, the older man is hesitant but accepts in the end, it's not going to be good for him to just stay at home, moping sadly about you not returning his feelings.

She's pretty, he's not going to pretend she's not, but he can't help but to think she's not as pretty as you. She's nice and kind, he thinks that he could easily fall in love with her if you didn't already owe his heart.

He tries with all his might to not think about you, he tries to focus on her. How her hair falls down on her shoulder and how she laughs softly. But you stay there, in the back of his mind, reminding him that he's not going to forget you that easily.

“Why are you here alone?” You hear Yeri's voice in the corridor, making you walk out of her room to see with who she's talking to. Hyunjin is laying down on Chan's bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Waiting for your brother to get back”, he shrugs, not even looking at Yeri.

“Where did he go?” She asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest, trying to look confident, even though her cheeks are pink. She hates when Hyunjin acts so indifferent, it makes her nervous.

“He went on a date”, Hyunjin says and your eyes immediately go out of your best friend's face to him. Your heart starts beating so fast in your chest that you can hear it in your ears.

What does he mean “a date”? Chan told you he liked you so why would he go on a date?

“I didn't know he was seeing someone”, you thank Yeri for asking something and Hyunjin looks at you, not her.

“Well, the girl he likes is being an idiot so he just decided to move on”, he smirks, making your cheeks burn. So he knows about you and Chan? Not that there ever existed something between the two of you but he definitely knows that Chan likes you.

“I didn't even know he had his eyes on someone”, Yeri says, confused.

“Your brother is full of secrets, it seems”, Hyunjin sits on the bed, stretching out. “I'll go now, he just texted me saying he was not coming home for another two or three hours”, the man says, standing up and walking past you and Yeri, seizing the opportunity to bump into you.

You're confused too, just like Yeri. How could her brother say those things to you, tell you he likes you just for him to move on so easily? Of course you didn't want him to keep trying anything with you so why does your chest hurt so much right now? Why do you feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest?

“Y/n!” You hear Yeri's voice, a pitch higher than usual, which means it's not the first time she's trying to get your attention. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, of course”, you nod, paying attention to what she says next.

“I can't believe Chan liked someone this whole time, why did he not tell me?” She wonders and you nod, “maybe it was you, that's why he didn't tell me”, she laughs out loud, making you stare at her for a second. “I'm kidding babes, why does it look like you have seen a ghost?” She jokes, spinning on her heels and walking back to her room, whining about how much she's gonna pester her brother for not telling her about his crush.

You couldn't sleep, every time you closed your eyes Chan showed up with that damn smirk of his. You hate him, you really do, how could he do this to you? Cause all this turmoil of emotions inside you and then just replace you with the first pretty girl that showed up?

It's well past midnight and the man is not home yet, you know that just because you have been walking left and right — for the last hour and a half, in his living room. You were already going to stay over but you didn't plan to meet Chan and much less planned on confronting him about this little game he's playing.

So when the front door is opened and a visibly tired Chan enters the house, you cross your arms in front of your chest, trying to look intimidating but you're sure you look anything but that. He stops on his tracks when he sees you, blinking a few times before closing the door behind him.

“You're here”, he says, avoiding your eyes.

“How was your date?” You ask, raising your brows in annoyance.

“Hmm... how do you know about that?” He looks at you, frowning.

“Does it matter?” You scoff, feeling your cheeks burning. You know you have no right to be doing this but at the same time you can't help it, your chest is aching too much. “I just think it's funny how you confessed to me a few weeks ago and now you're going around dating whomever”

“I don't understand”, he scowls, walking to where you are. “You rejected me, so why does it bother you that I may be going on dates?”

“It doesn't”, you shrug, feeling caught in your own trap. “I just find it crazy ‘cause the way you confessed made it look like you were in love with me or shit but I guess I got it wrong”

“Well, I am in love with you”, he informs, “I have been for years, y/n. But you don't want me and I'm tired of waiting for you to look at me, okay? I'm trying to move on so I can be happy with someone who likes me”

You gulp, holding back on the strange urge to tell him that you like him in that way, that you want to be happy with him.

“I guess you're right”, you step back. You know you're wrong and you don't want to lose Yeri's friendship but at the same time it hurts so much to let go of him, of this feeling that you don't even know when it started.

“I'm glad we are on the same page”, he murmurs, moving past you to go up the stairs but you can't let him, you can't give up on this. It's the first time that you ever felt this way about someone, that you really are about to risk ruining your friendship, but you can't let him go, not this time and possibly not in the future.

So you grab his wrist, making him stop on his tracks. Chan turns around slowly, brows knit together in confusion.

“What if I asked you to not move on?” You feel your cheeks burn, not looking into his eyes at first but when he says nothing you're forced to lock eyes with him. “What if I asked you to keep liking me?”

You don't think you have ever seen someone's face glow up so fast, Chan went from confused and sad to surprised and shining in the split of a second. He steps closer to you, bringing his hands to cup your face.

“I'd tell you that you're the only one I want”, he leans in so close, you can feel his breath hitting in your skin. “I'd ask you to please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me”

He waits a few seconds, giving you time to regret and run away but you don't, you close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you and that's exactly what he does, soft lips touching yours gently, like you're going to break if he does anything hasty. Your hands go to the hem of his shirt, grabbing on the fabric to try and have some balance because your legs are about to give out.

You want to moan, honestly. He's so hot it's crazy, the way he's leaning over you, his body is not even touching yours but you can feel the warmth coming from his body, you can only imagine how good it must feel to be pressed against him.

You part the kiss to try and breath, but your face is so red with the impure thoughts you're having that you immediately take a few steps away from him, like you're going to jump his bones if you stay too close.

Chan groans, making you peek at him, even though you're still embarrassed about your crazy reaction to a simple kiss.

“Can you stop running away every time I kiss you?” He asks.

“I can assure you this time I'm not running away, I'm only trying to protect you from the pervert in me you just woke up”, you hiccup, why do you always say too much when you're nervous?

As expected of the tease Chan is, he raises a brow, stepping close to you.

“I'd like to get to know the pervert version of you, if you let me”, he grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him and pressing you against his body. You could die right now, you'd die happy. You can feel his muscular chest pressed on yours and he sneaks his hands lower until he reaches your ass, making you stay so close to him that you are sure you can feel something hard pressing against your stomach.

“Should I let you?” You try teasing him, feeling like an idiot for even trying but to your surprise it works, Chan grunts, kissing you again, this time more desperately like he would die if didn't feel your lips on his now.

Your kiss is interrupted by the sounds of a door closing upstairs, making you two pull away from each other, breathless. His face is red and his lips are puffy and you're no better than that.

You start fixing your hair and trying to look the most normal possible as you run to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When you come back, Yeri is coming down the stairs, grinning at Chan.

“I guess your date went well”, she teases, making him blush.

“I liked better what came after the date, actually”, he grins, eye siding you, making you choke on the water you're drinking to try and hide the mess on your face.

“Gross", Yeri says, disgusted. When she looks around, her eyes find you. "Oh, y/n, I came looking for you. You were not on the bedroom when I woke up”

“Yeah, I came down to get some water”, you lie.

“Are you okay? Your face is all red, do you have a fever?” She asks, worriedly, walking closer to you to put her hand on your forehead to compare your temperature with hers. “Hm, I don't think you have a fever”

“I'm sure it's just the hot weather”, you explain, “let's go back to sleep”

You push Yeri back to the stairs, going up with her and when you look behind to get one last look from Chan, he's smiling like an idiot, mouthing something like “I'll text you”, making you blush and shake your head, going up back to Yeri's room.

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 3 days

Text

The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

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harstyle · 2 days

Text

the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”

“Of course.”

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl @vikiii07

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles materlist #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x nanny #harry styles ceo #harry styles fanfic rec

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galedekarios · 21 hours

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gale & karlach

i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.

she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.

not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:

gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb

Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?

but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:

act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.

i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.

karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:

Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").

their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.

even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:

before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra

Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.

she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:

karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."

she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach x gale #gale x karlach #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #ch: karlach #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #i wanted to focus on a dynamic where a friend/partner focuses on gale #bc from what i see very often #that is neglected entirely #and often focuses more or completely on what gale can do for another #anyhow i love them

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clownwritesfanfic · 2 days

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I Could Be A Good Mother, and I Wanna Be Your Wife

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Summary: Class 1A is given the surprise task of caring for baby dolls. Everyone is randomly paired up in two’s, and it’s just your luck that you get your crush as a partner.

Warnings: Bakugou may be a little ooc but I don’t care

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 6,512

Disclaimer: Reader is kept as diverse as possible but wears a skirt, uses the girls locker room, has long enough hair to run fingers through, calls herself ‘mother’, being able to birth a child, and was originally written with a fem aligned person in mind. This is safe for poc, and plus size readers. The majority of the fic is also safe for trans women readers but the bonus at the end is not. (Y/N) is used only once.

Important info before you read‼️

This fic was written originally with an OC of mine in mind, however, most people don’t read Canon x OC and while I normally wouldn’t care and wrote one anyway, I am very proud of this and want as many people to read it as possible and hopefully enjoy it. So with that in mind, I took out any describing factors and her name but I did keep some of her backstory and her quirk. If that bothers you, you can move on but I hope you read it anyway because I’m very proud of this.

Also, there is another OC of mine in this story, Usagi. She’s not integral to the plot and has no speaking roles. I had to add her to keep the class even, otherwise someone would’ve been a single parent.

Any feedback is very welcome and appreciated!

Title is inspired by ‘not a lot, just forever’ by Adrianna Lenker but the fic is unrelated.

———————————————————————

It was a Monday, a few weeks after the majority of Class 1A got their provisional hero licenses when Midnight and Recovery Girl entered the classroom. Aizawa had taken it upon himself to snuggle up in his yellow sleeping bag and take a nap after introducing the two women, leaving them to explain what today’s class is.

The students expected Midnight, considering she had taught a few of their classes before, but there were murmurs of why the school nurse was there.

“Listen up boys and girls! We have a very special and unique class for today!” Midnight announced as she raised her hand in the air, her leather whip clutched in her hand, catching the attention of everyone (who was awake) in the room.

“Today isn’t about hero work or everyday schoolwork. This lesson is special, it will help you all later in your lives if you choose this path. The path being….PARENTHOOD!” She exclaimed while striking an enthusiastic pose.

“Wait, what?!” “Seriously?” “What do you mean?!” A series of voices could be heard throughout the classroom.

“Settle down!” Midnight got the attention of the students. “This lesson is the most important lesson anyone can learn. Whether you want to become a parent or not, learning how to care for babies and children is a vital and selfless aspect of life.”

There were a couple hushed protests among the class but Recovery Girl talked over them. “You will have one week to care for these babies.” She explained as she pulled out eleven baby dolls of various genders and races. “These dolls are specially made for things like this. These babies will cry, make noises, “sleep”, “eat”, and soil its diaper like a real baby. They’re also able to record and grade you based on how quickly you can figure out and resolve its problem. And be careful what you say around it and how you say things. They can detect anger and verbal abuse which will drastically affect your score. Now…any questions?”

A bunch of hands were instantly raised. But that didn’t matter since Bakugou stood up and slammed his hands onto his desk and yelled. “WHAT THE HELL DO WE HAVE TO RAISE SOME DUMB BABIES FOR?! THIS IS THE HERO COURSE NOT A NURSEY COURSE!”

“Sit down.” Midnight said sternly. She took over the conversation. “While this lesson isn’t exactly meant to play into your hero work, this knowledge can be beneficial out in the field. For example, in some rescue operations, it can take hours for a child to be reunited with their family. Most of the time, medics will take the child and work with police to try and reunite them with their parents, but there are times where a hero must step in and care for and comfort the child. With older children around three to five years old, they’re easier to calm down. You can talk to them and explain the situation and reassure them. But babies and younger children are harder to console in high stress situations. If you learn these things now, you won’t be stressed if you ever get caught in a situation where you’re in charge of a small child. A lot of heroes are inexperienced with child care unless they are a parent themselves or have young family members. Think of this as getting ahead of a problem before it even starts. Make sense?”

Bakugou grumbled and sat back down.

“Eeeee This is going to be fun! We get to take care of cute babies!” Ashido squealed.

“I don’t think it will be that fun, Mina. Babies are a lot of hard work and dedication.” Asui chimed in, a finger lifted up to her lips. She had two younger siblings, so she knew a thing or two about raising kids.

“Correct you are, child.” Recovery Girl said. “The infant stage is one of the toughest stages of child rearing since they can’t communicate their needs and wants with words. It’s a lot of guessing and paying attention to their body language. However, these dolls do not move so you will have to rely on audio cues to guess what the child needs.”

Midnight spoke up. “You will be split up into groups of two all determined by a random draw. Because there are more boys than girls in this class, some of you will end up in a same sex partnership. You do not have to act as a real couple so don’t freak out if you’re partnered with someone you don’t have romantic feelings for. What’s important is teamwork on taking care of the baby. You are in charge of the child for the rest of this week, including the weekend. You may chose to either take turns or to split responsibility evenly. You will be given all the supplies you will need, if you end up needing more, Recovery Girl will help you. At the end of the week you will return the dolls and we will tally up the scores and see which couple has the lowest score. The lowest score is the winner since each mistake is marked based on how severe of a mistake it was. The higher the score, the worse you did. Any more questions?”

Iida quickly raised his hand. Midnight gestured for him to speak. He stood up and loudly asked “If we are to have the baby all day for the rest of the week, what do we do with it while training? You can’t expect us to take the baby with us! That’s highly dangerous and immoral and I would expect better from such a prestigious school!”

“Yes, you’re right. We don’t expect you to keep the doll with you while training. That’s why each of you will have to figure something out. One of you will have to sit out of training unless you can find a better option. Leaving the child in your dorm and hoping for the best is not an option and neither is bringing it to training and leaving it off to the side. It’s like real life. One of the parents has to stay home and care for the child. Sometimes they will get a babysitter but that is not an option for you since the scores need to come from you and your partner only for you to pass. If you really want to train that day, you’ll either have to talk it through with your partner, or train later in the day during your free time.” Midnight answered.

“Thank you very much for clearing this up.” Iida said, bowing deeply before taking his seat.

Midnight clapped her hands. “Alright! With everything out of the way, let’s draw for your partners.” She held up a blue plastic box. “In this box is twenty-two coloured tokens. There are eleven pairs. Each one of you will reach into this box and pull out one token, when everyone has a token, you will be given time to find the person with the same colour token. They will be your partner for the rest of the week. You may not switch partners. Each colour is already assigned to a baby as well, so you don’t get to chose that either.” As she finished explaining she walked around the room letting everyone reach in and pull out a token. When the box was empty she returned to the front and allowed the class to find their partners.

Midoriya and Uraraka had the yellow tokens, Shouji and Asui had the purple tokens, Mina and Kirishima had the red tokens, Kaminari and Jirou had the orange tokens, Hagakure and Yayorozu had the light blue tokens, Sero and Mineta had the black tokens, Usagi and Tokoyami had the dark blue tokens, Todoroki and Ojiro had the pink tokens, Iida and Aoyama had the green tokens, and Satou and Kouda had the white tokens.

You looked down at your brown coloured token and looked back up to scan the room. All your classmates were already paired up and either happily talking about how it would be to raise a baby together or complaining about their partner. You could faintly hear Mineta crying about not being paired up with a girl. You look across the room at Bakugou who was still sat at his desk, glaring at his token.

Upon closer look, you could see that it was the same colour as yours. You sighed, already accepting that you’ll basically be a single parent as you can’t imagine he’d want anything to do with this. You reluctantly stood up and made your way across the classroom to him.

“Um…hey. Looks like we have the same colour. Guess we’re partners for the week.” You said, gently.

“I can fucking see that. I’m not blind, dumbass.” He retorted.

Ah, it seems he’s decided to take on the verbally abusive and absent father route already. You’ll have to do your best to make sure you get a low enough score. You’ve never taken care of a baby before. You had baby dolls as a kid but they’ve never graded you before. This was a whole new challenge and you could feel the anxiety pooling in your stomach.

“Right…well. We should talk about how we want to do this.” You started. “I think we should take turns each day. I could take it today and you take it tomorrow and repeat. I know you probably don’t want to skip a day of training so I can take it during training even on your days. There’s not much really for me to train anyway so I can afford to lose a week of it.” You let out a weak laugh.

Bakugou growled. “Do whatever you want but don’t be stupid. You can train on the days I have it. Don’t stop your training over some dumb doll.”

“But…you would be stopping yours if you-“ You get cut off by the blonde.

“I’m already the best in this whole class! Missing a few days of training isn’t going to do anything. Besides, you’re weak and you need to be at your strongest so I can beat you and prove that I’m the best in this entire school!” He yelled. You think that was a compliment albeit he put it weirdly.

“Ha…yeah…okay.” You replied. Just then the bell rang and everyone started to put their stuff away. You went over to your desk to do the same.

“Please return your tokens to the box! And before you leave, pick up your baby with the matching colour onesie and the bag of necessities. You have the rest of the day to yourselves.” Said Midnight.

You slung your bag onto your back and walked to the front of the room and dropped your token back into the box. You waited for your classmates to fizzle out a bit so you could get your baby. The dolls were all lined up in car seats. You found the one wearing a brown onesie, a girl with blonde hair. You chuckled to yourself at the resemblance to your partner.

You grabbed the handle of the car seat and went to grab the big duffel bag next to it when someone grabbed it before you. You look over to see Bakugou standing over you, glaring off to the side.

“Move it.” He gruffed out as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

You left the classroom with Bakugou trailing behind you, still scowling. You turn around and start walking backwards to face him and hold out the car seat so he could see the doll nestled inside.

“Look. She looks like you.” You giggled. He glanced down at the blonde doll and huffed.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes and turned back around and followed your classmates to the dorms.

———————————————————————

Back in the dorms, everyone was changed out of their school uniforms and gathered in the common room with their new kids. Everyone of course…except for Bakugou, who very grumpily went to his room after dropping the bag of things off at your room.

You had went through the bag and found loads of diapers, clothing, a carrier that strapped to your chest, bottles, a pacifier, and some baby toys. You weren’t exactly sure why you would need toys, considering the baby isn’t actually real, but you guessed you’d find out the reason sooner or later.

You decided to change her out of her boring brown onesie so you picked out a cute outfit from the ones provided. You undid the buckles holding the baby in the car seat (why it came in a car seat when you don’t even know how to drive a car, you will not know) and gently and carefully lifted the little girl out of the seat, making sure to support her head.

As you laid her on the ground and started to undress her, she started making cooing noises.

“Oh! Hello….you must be awake now I guess.” You spoke to the baby as she cooed in reply. “Ha…I guess you are kinda cute.” You felt as if you were talking to yourself.

When your new daughter was dressed, you decided to go to the common room since you thought everyone would be there, and right you were. As you went down the hallway you could hear the excited chatter of your classmates getting louder. When you were in sight, Mina noticed you and waved you over.

“Hey! Come over here! We’re all showing off our babies!” She excitedly exclaimed. As you walked over, Kirishima stood up from his spot beside Mina and offered the space to you. You thanked him as you sat down and readjusted your baby in your arms.

“Course! What kinda man would I be if I didn’t offer a seat to a lady with a baby!” He replied. Ever so chivalrous, he is.

“Ha! That rhymed.” Kaminari pointed out.

“Awww you got a girl? How lucky!” Mina squealed. “Kirishima and I got a boy. We named him Kenji.” You looked down at her lap where the doll was laid on its back.

“You named it?” You asked.

“Well yeah! We can’t just keep calling him “it” and “the baby”.” She explained as if it was obvious.

Iida then chimed in, his baby tucked securely in one of his arms. “Yes, I suppose it would be beneficial to name the child. This is supposed to be taken seriously and we can not leave a child unnamed!”

There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room as everyone talked with their partners on what they should name their baby. You looked down to the small blonde doll in your arms that let out another coo and softly smiled.

“Riki…” You thought to yourself. “I’ll call you Riki.”

———————————————————————

“Riki?” Bakugou gawked. “You gave it a name?”

Bakugou was helping with making dinner, well, it was more like he forced everyone to let him do most of it because “no one was doing it right”. You were stood out of the way but within talking distance, your newly named baby in one arm and holding a bottle up to her mouth as she “ate”.

“First off, she’s a she not an “it”. Secondly, everyone in the class named their baby. We have to take this seriously and I’m not going to call her an “it” the whole week. Besides…I thought Riki would be a good name. It means “strong”….and since she kinda looks like you, I figured you’d want your kid to be strong like you so…” You trailed off looking down at the doll in your arms. “We can change it though if you really don’t like it.”

Bakugou huffs. “No…call it-…..call her whatever you want.” He continues to cook in silence. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. You smile softly at him. Maybe you won’t have to do this alone after all.

———————————————————————

The first day goes by smoothly. You had a bit of a learning curve with changing the diaper but you managed after help from Yayorozu. Who knew she’d be so good at something like that?

You had just settled down into bed after putting Riki to “sleep” and were scrolling on your phone. It was about 10pm, most people were still awake but you knew the person you wanted to talk to most more than likely wasn’t. He went to bed at 8:30pm every night, even on weekends.

You stared at your screen open on Bakugou’s blank private messages page. UA made an app for the students to contact each other and teachers with. It worked like a regular texting app, every class had their own group chat and you could private message each other, even students from other classes. All of them were accessible to staff if needed though.

You didn’t know if you should even bother asking him if he’s still going to take Riki tomorrow. Plus you didn’t want to wake him up. You were about to turn your phone off when you got a message from Mina. You open up her message and see a picture of Kirishima with his hair down, asleep on one of the couches in the common room with their baby on his chest. You laughed quietly to yourself and responded with a cute reaction meme. You thought they would make an interesting pair for this project.

You turned off your phone and plugged it in to charge and set it on your bedside table. You got comfortable in bed and closed your eyes. It would take you a while to fall asleep so you started to let your mind wander. You realized that tomorrow Bakugou will miss out on training if he takes the baby. He already told you earlier today in class not to worry about it and to focus on your own training…but you genuinely couldn’t think on how training would benefit you.

Your quirk has always been more of a supporting quirk rather than one that could do well in a fight one on one. Your quirk is called Cheer, by speaking words of encouragement to someone, you can make your target stronger both physically and emotionally. The reverse also works, if you berate someone it makes them weaker. You can use it on more than one person but its effects get weaker the more people you use it in at once. There’s also a major weakness to your quirk. Anytime you berate someone, you gain confidence, but when you encourage someone, it takes away your confidence. Because of this you feel inferior to everyone else in your class. Even Mineta has a more useful quirk in combat than you do. You’re basically forced to sit on the sidelines and watch people fight. It helps in rescue operations but you still wished you could fight like everyone else. You only managed to get into the hero course because you racked up enough rescue points and got lucky with a three pointer.

It’s ironic that someone with an inferiority complex got paired up with someone with a superiority complex. It’s even more ironic that you managed to gain a crush on the bastard too.

———————————————————————

It was now Tuesday morning and Bakugou was sat in his room staring at the doll in its car seat.

You had entered the common room already dressed in your uniform with Riki in the seat. Hero training was the first class that morning so anyone who was in charge of their baby that day stayed behind and would join everyone later for normal classes. Your tie wasn’t done yet and your skirt was pulled up a little too high, showing off more thigh than you usually do, as you were in a rush since Riki wouldn’t stop crying and you couldn’t figure out why. She had finally managed to settle down when you gave her the included pacifier.

You weren’t much of a breakfast eater, especially if you were training in the morning so you didn’t go to the kitchen. You noticed Bakugou sat on one of the couches drinking something out of a mug. He was wearing a simple black tank top and sweatpants.

“Oh Bakugou! There you are. I’m guessing since you’re not in uniform you’re still taking Riki today.” You sat the car seat on the floor near him and started doing your tie. You knew you were just going to have to take it off soon to change into your hero costume but you still wanted to show up looking like you at least tried. “So I figured out that she makes different noises depending on what she wants. Most of the time she just wants to be held or given a pacifier so she makes really whiny sounds that almost sound like a cry. She was just crying now and the only thing that made her stop was the pacifier so she might start up again soon. I made a smaller bag of her things like diapers and her bottle just so you’re not carrying a big ass duffel bag later.” You were almost rivalling Midoriya with how fast you were muttering, you didn’t mean to but you didn’t want to be late and you kept fumbling with your tie.

As you were smoothing out your front, you felt a pair of hands grab the bottom of your skirt and start to pull down. You shrieked and smacked the hands away and turned around to see (to the best of your ability) Hagakure behind you.

“Oh my god, Hagakure! I had no idea who was behind me! You scared me thinking it was Mineta pulling at my skirt.” You laughed and grabbed onto the girls arms.

“Ahhh I’m sorry! I just noticed your skirt was up a lot higher than normal and you almost showed off a bit too much.” The invisible girl explained as you fixed your skirt. “Come on, we got to get to class!”

“Right, yeah, I’m coming.” You responded as Hagakure held your hand. You quickly turned to Bakugou again who once again had a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s only for an hour before I see you again so if you want to pawn her off to me next class then that’s fine.”

“Tch…how incompetent do you think I am? Of course I can take care of some stupid doll for an hour!” He barked back at you.

You felt Hagakure pulling you towards the front door. “Ok, well…see you later then!” You said as you finally took off with your friend, leaving Bakugou and a few others scattered around the common room.

“Heyyy, Bakugou! You get stuck on babysitting duty too?” Kaminari taunted, his baby settled in a carrier strapped to his chest.

Bakugou growled. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your own kid you idiot. And you look dumb with that thing on.” He stood up and grabbed the handle of the car seat and went off to his room. He could hear Kaminari complaining as he left.

Now here he was, in his room having a staring match with a doll. He wasn’t sure what to do for an hour, let along with a baby. He glanced up at some math homework left on his desk and decided to finish it up so he was ahead of everyone else in class. Ten minutes past when his concentration was interrupted by whining. He looked over at the car seat that was faced away from him at this angle and sighed. He reached over and turned it around.

“Jesus. She didn’t mention how fucking annoying it would be.” He muttered to himself as he undid the straps and lifted the baby out. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” He asked, surprisingly not as loud as he normally would. He thought maybe she was hungry and remembered you said something about a small bag with her bottle in it. He looked around but couldn’t find it. In fact, he didn’t remember seeing any bag with the baby anyway. He grumbled as he picked up his phone and opened up the messaging app and sent you a private message.

In the locker rooms you heard your phone buzz and decided to look at it as you were changing. You saw a notification from Bakugou and quickly opened it.

Katsuki Bakugou: hey, dumbass. she’s crying but I can’t find that bag you were talking about

You winced as you remembered that you never actually grabbed the bag in your rush to get downstairs.

You: damn I must have forgotten it in my room, sorry. feel free to go and grab it. my room code is 6678 it should be on my desk. you know which floor I’m on right?

Bakugou scoffed.

Katsuki Bakugou: yes I know. I’m not stupid.

You: never said you were <3 have fun lol

You didn’t realize you sent the heart. It was muscle memory from texting with your friends, but it sent Bakugou for a loop.

After he had quickly made his way to the second floor and grabbed the bag you mentioned, he went back to his room where he had left the baby on his bed. Her whining had turned into crying by now.

“Alright, Alright! I got your damn stuff.” Bakugou sat on the floor and settled the doll into his arm. He removed the pacifier and held the bottle up to its mouth. He felt relieved when the crying stopped. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He thought out loud.

He rested his back on his bed and started to drift off in to thought. Why did you send that heart? Did you mean to do it? Was it a reflex? Were you making fun of him? No…that couldn’t be right. You were one of the few that took him seriously. Sure you teased him sometimes, but not as much as the others. He thought back to a time where he accidentally overheard something he probably shouldn’t have that still made his heart feel weird.

———————————————————————

Bakugou was making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He could hear you and the other girls of Class 1A giggling and talking about random shit.

He was going to ignore the group when something made him stop in his tracks right before he would be seen.

“Sooo, who do you like?” Mina asked with a teasing voice.

“Who, me?” You asked as Mina nodded. All eyes were on you and you felt yourself blush. “Well…I guess I kinda have a thing for Bakugou…” You answered shyly, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“What?!” “Wait, Bakugou?!” “Really?” The girls cried out in unison.

“Why is that so shocking? You guys seriously don’t think he’s at least a little bit attractive?” You inquired.

Bakugou stiffened at the confession and he felt his heartbeat speed up. You…had a crush on him? Someone actually was interested in him romantically?

“You don’t think all his yelling and name calling is a turn off?” Uraraka asked.

“Hm…not really. Sure he says some mean stuff but…he doesn’t actually mean it.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…he always seems to be serious about it. I mean he doesn’t even know our names.” Jirou huffed.

“Yes he does!” You laughed. “He’s not stupid. He’s a lot smarter than I think any of you give him credit for.”

“He is in the top our class academic wise as well as hero wise.” Yayorozu chimes in.

“Exactly. Have none of you realized that a lot of his plans actually work? He may seem like he’s rushing into things but it’s obvious he’s put clear thought into his plans. And the fact that he can make one up that quickly is impressive. He’s also more compassionate than you’d think.” You said, leaning back on the couch.

“Well I think you’re wrong with that.” Tsu replied.

“Because you guys are only seeing the surface level. You’re not reading in between the lines. For example, remember when we just moved into the dorms, the talk Mr. Aizawa had with us outside?” They nodded. “When Mr. Aizawa left, you could feel the uncomfortable tension in the class at being reminded of what happened. Bakugou grabbed Kaminari and made him go all dumb because he knew it would make everyone laugh. And it did! The tension was gone instantly! Bakugou really does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it like other people. And remember the school festival? He totally could’ve refused to play the drums but he did it anyway! That’s what I like about him. He’s not a cold hearted asshole, he just wants you to think he is. I use to be like that too.” You trailed off, looking ashamed.

“Wait. YOU were an asshole?” Mina prodded.

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, back when I first got my quirk. I realized that putting other people down gave me a lot of confidence. I went on a power trip and started bullying everyone. I started to realize that the “friends” that I did have were only my “friends” so they could escape my words. Made me feel like shit when I found out. Now I hate using my quirk like that unless absolutely necessary. But yeah….I see through Bakugou’s walls and I guess it just made me fall for him.” You changed the subject.

“Wow…you’re whipped for him, aren’t you?” Mina teased.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell him that. I don’t need him on my ass about it.” You blushed and waved her off.

“You sure you don’t want him on your ass?” Mina teased again.

“OH SHUT UP!” You threw a pillow at her as the girls laughed.

———————————————————————

Bakugou had zoned out at that memory. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it’s your fault for being so damn loud and talking about him in the first place! It’s been a few weeks since that and it’s still fresh in his mind. Did he like you back? He wasn’t sure. On one hand he was pissed at how you managed to figure him out so easily, but on the other hand…he felt comforted knowing someone understood him and didn’t make fun of him for it. He will admit that you weren’t that bad looking or as stupid as everyone else. He did wish you would see the potential you had with your quirk, though. He could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he scoffed, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back down at the doll in his arms.

“I guess…she’s not so bad…” He said softly to Riki.

———————————————————————

Training had finished and you and the rest of your classmates were on your way to your next class.

Upon entering the classroom you noticed everyone that had skipped out on training standing around, babies either in their arms, strapped to their chest, or in the car seat. Bakugou was sat in his spot, chin in his hand looking out the window to his left.

You had a few minutes to spare before class started so you walked up to your partner. “Hey! How’d it go? Was she fussy?” You asked as you squatted down to see Riki, who was in her car seat on the floor next to his desk.

“Tch, no. I told you I know what I’m doing.” He grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure none of us know what we’re doing but it’s nice to know that you’re taking this seriously.” You replied standing back up.

“HA? YOU THINK I WOULD’NT? YOU THINK I’M NOT CAPABLE OF THIS?” He yelled as he let off small explosions.

“Course not. I did kinda think you would end up leaving most of this to me though. But it’s nice that you’re playing along.” You smiled sincerely.

Iida started ushering everyone to their assigned seats as class was about to begin. You patted Bakugou on his shoulder and left to your seat near the back of the class.

He clenched his fists and glared down at his desk, he could feel his heartbeat going wild again.

———————————————————————

A few days had passed and it was now Friday night and you were at your wits end.

It was your day with Riki and she had been crying non stop for thirty minutes now. You were pacing your room with her in your arms as the doll “sobbed” louder and louder with each agonizing minute. You had no idea what was wrong; you tried feeding her, changing her diaper, holding her, giving her a pacifier, you even tried the toys that they provided but nothing was working!

You were close to tears yourself as you thought about how this would affect your grade and how pissed Bakugou would be if you ruined it. The whole week went by just fine, it never took this long for her to settle down. You had gotten lucky with the baby you were given as she was so easy to care for, but this moment right now was proving difficult.

Feeling like you had no other choice, you left your room with your still wailing daughter in your arms and quickly made your way up to Bakugou’s room.

You knocked on his door while still trying to shush Riki. When Bakugou opened the door, he looked like he had just woken up which made you start ranting.

“Bakugou, fuck, I’m so sorry to bother you right now I know you like to go to bed early but she’s been crying like this for like thirty minutes now and I’ve tried everything but she just won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do and I’m probably gonna make us fail cause I can’t get her to fucking stop and I just…” You panted “…can you please help me?” You nearly whined.

“Give her to me.” Bakugou reached out as you transferred her into his arms. He walked away with the crying doll, leaving his door open. You decided that was an invitation so you slipped into his room and gently closed the door behind you. You watched as Bakugou gently bounced the doll in his arms and started petting its blonde head.

You stared in awe as Riki started to finally quiet down until she was silent. You breathed out a sigh of relief but tears started to quickly gather in your eyes. Bakugou had opened his balcony door and stepped outside to the cool air. You ran a hand through your messy hair and followed them out onto the balcony. The not quite freezing but cold air nipping at your skin. It felt nice as you didn’t even notice that you were sweating from the stress. You bent over and rested your elbows on the railing and placed your head in your hands, trying to hold back your tears.

“She had been crying for so long…I tried everything but nothing worked. But the minute you have her she finally stops. What the hell am I doing wrong? Why am I such a bad mother?” You muttered more to yourself but your partner could hear you anyways.

A minute of silence went by as you tried to not let your tears fall when Bakugou finally spoke up, surprising gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you barely know how to handle.”

He leaned his back against the railing next to you. His arm barely grazing against your shoulder, his way of trying to comfort you. You sniffed and dropped your arms from your head and looked forward out into the dark courtyard.

“She’s been perfect this entire week. Nothing I couldn’t handle…but she just had to act like a total brat tonight.” You sighed.

“Hey.” Bakugou said sternly. “Don’t call our daughter a brat…that’s my line.”

You laughed at that, completely overlooking the fact that you called the doll “our daughter”. Bakugou softly smiled at your laugh, also not realizing exactly what he said. But her certainly felt his heart flutter as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

Bakugou decided he’d take her for the rest of the night so you could get some sleep. It was his turn tomorrow anyway.

———————————————————————

Monday had come by quickly, thus, ending the project. Recovery Girl had collected the dolls, and you couldn’t lie, you felt a little sad at the fact that you won’t have Riki around anymore. The class waited in anticipation to see whose grade was the lowest.

When the results came in, Midnight stood at the front of the class once again and started to call out the grades.

“Coming in last place is Sero and Mineta with a sixty-five.” Mineta started screaming about how unfair it was and that they got a faulty doll. “Todoroki and Ojiro have a score of thirty-four, Kaminari and Jirou have a thirty, Iida and Aoyama a twenty-seven, Usagi and Tokoyami with twenty-five, Shouji and Asui with twenty-one, Hagakure and Yayorozu with twenty, Mina and Kirishima with an eighteen, Satou and Kouda with a fifteen, Bakugou and (Y/N) with a score of eight, and lastly, coming in first place with the best score is Midoriya and Uraraka with a three! Good work everyone. I hope you all learned some valuable lessons from this experience!” Midnight finished.

There were high fives and cheers coming from the people with the lower scores and talks of what they could’ve done better from the people with higher marks.

You stared down at your desk smiling. Eight wasn’t so bad, right? Much better than what Mineta got.

At the front of the class, Bakugou has turned his head back to look at you and softly smiled to himself when he saw your relief. He turned back around to look down at his hands as he played with his pen. He could hear Midoriya and Uraraka being congratulated for the lowest score and for once in his life….he didn’t mind coming in second.

———————————————————————

Bonus:

Twelve years later, Bakugou had established himself as the number two hero with his own agency. You worked along side him as his number one sidekick. You both grew a lot since high school and grew closer from the experience. You managed to get rid of your inferiority complex and become more comfortable with using your quirk against villains rather than standing by and cheering on the heroes. You can also hold your own in combat pretty well now and you have a slew of support items to help.

But instead of kicking ass on the street you were laid out on a hospital bed after the longest 7 hours of your life. You were sweaty and exhausted, but it was all worth it as you looked at the little bundle in your arms. A head of blonde hair was peaking out of the blanket.

“What should we name her?” You whispered to the person leaning over you with their hand on your head and looking lovingly down at the newborn.

“…..Riki.” Bakugou said softly.

309 notes · View notes

caxde · 18 hours

Text

lovingsomeone | steddie x reader

summary: Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. (9.3k)(srry i got carried away)

warnings: smut! 18+ mdni use of alcohol and weed, afab reader, p in v sex, masturbation, oral sex and overall teenage horniness. Steve being overconfident and Eddie being a nervous wreck.

a/n: I did a first part to it answering a request and kept writing, so i put it all together! enjoy<3 english is not my first language!

“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you.

“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back.

Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on.

She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile.

It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working.

She still was unsure about you.

She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck.

But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off.

Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you.

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them.

“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did.

Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you.

“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands.

“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face.

“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it.

Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.

“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed.

“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up.

“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you.

“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question.

“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it.

“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van.

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind.

“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant.

“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said.

“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…”

“Hot?”

“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.”

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris.

It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you.

Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous.

“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours.

“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain.

“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity.

“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left.

“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.”

Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home.

Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car.

You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up.

It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up.

No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right.

Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was.

As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after.

You were truly breathtaking.

Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind.

It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them.

Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now.

Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you.

Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air.

He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence.

He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds.

He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while.

For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt.

“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers.

He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been.

“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back.

“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose.

“You’re drunk?”

“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party.

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face.

“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been.

“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies.

Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did.

Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve’s got a crush on you.

“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry.

“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?”

Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in.

You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands.

You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down.

You were crying now.

“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body.

“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them.

“Are you sure?”

“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head.

“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper.

“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did.

The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts.

“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now.

“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious.

“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit.

Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now.

“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh.

“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet.

“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine.

“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance.

As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear.

As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident.

“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them.

“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner.

He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car.

Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.”

She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while.

2.9

“Babe, can you help me?” You cried out, the sun hitting you a bit too hard, you started to feel your skin burning if you weren’t careful.

“Sure, be with you in a second.” Steve adds, gleaming at the sound of your voice calling him such a pretty nickname. Him and Robin were a bit busy, stacking the small cooler with every kind of beer and seltzer they could name, topping it with ice so it would stay cold during the hot summer’s day. The first of many to come.

The pool had been officially opened, and with that, the usual invasion of the Harrington household started. This year however, Steve decided to throw a little party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise gathering at his house.

Robin still hadn’t said anything about what she heard at prom, and she intended to keep it that way, she was having fun watching, as you struggled to operate.

Steve came over, sitting behind you, a little kiss on your shoulder letting you know he was all yours for now. You passed him the sunscreen, it smelt like coconut and vanilla, as he spread it on your back and shoulders, he took the opportunity to be a bit more handsy than he needed to. He started massaging your back, knowing the effect it had on you, as he heard the stifled groan on the back of your throat, quiet enough that he’d be the only one to hear it. Once he reached the lower part of your back, he spent way too much time in it, tracing patterns that had no meaning besides getting your body closer, and closer to his crotch, moving you a bit so you’d feel the way it grew against your butt cheeks. You looked back at him, over your shoulder, to see him smiling, that stupid smile that let you know just how much he wanted you, now and everyday. You shook your head, laying on his chest with enough mischievousness to let your cheeks hold his bulge between them, you felt him breathe out in a needy manner, right against your cheek. He gave you a kiss on your lips, his hand now caressing your stomach, fully visible thanks to the white bikini you chose to wear.

“Not while we have company, Harrington.” You whispered into his ear once his lips parted from yours. He groaned, deciding to just hold you tightly, his head buried where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in that spot he knew you liked.

“I told you… I don’t mind sharing.” He recalled the conversation you had about your curly haired friend he knew you had a crush on, even if you evidently liked him.

“Shush.” You dismissed him, holding his face near yours, a kiss left on his lips, as you bit his lower one. “Let’s just stay here until the others come?” You pleaded, not wanting to think about it, not really ready to think about Eddie coming here right now.

He answered with another kiss against your sun kissed skin, decidedly staying like this. Enjoying each other’s presence, soft touches and caresses.

The last few weeks with Steve had been amazing, but Eddie had grown cold as soon as he heard that you seemingly had made your choice, even if you were far from it.

Steve's words didn’t help.

In your mind, Steve seemed excited with the idea of you making out, or whatever it was with his friend, as long as you kept doing it with him. It was a dangling temptation, a dream, a forbidden fruit that had all of a sudden become edible.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you just knew Steve’s fingers were too busy tracing little drawings on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the edge of the thong that was part of your two piece. When all of a sudden your eyes opened from the noise that was coming out of the house. Eddie had arrived, accompanied by Nancy and Jonathan. The couple came out first.

“Hey lovebugs!” Nancy screamed, her usual upbeat tone making Steve open his eyes, he waved back, you did the same movement, which made her chuckle.

Eddie followed them closely, even in such warm weather, he still had his blue jeans on, only this time his white tank top let his arms out on the sun, you got lost in him for just a second.

Eddie avoided your stare, got lost in your body instead. Robin clocked the way he swallowed, his muscles in his neck tensing as he tried not to look too much. It was hard, since he knew he could be the one holding you as near as he desired.

Jonathan grabbed two beers, and offered one to Eddie, he felt compassion for him, just like Robin, he was used to being observant, and had known about Eddie’s feelings for a while, and he had been in the same situation, only he had a bit more luck.

The moment came where you decided to finally jump into the water, all of your friends deciding they wanted to stay dry, watching you as you floated in the pool.

You were pretty good at knowing who was staring, even if they had the same coloured eyes, Eddie’s and Steve’s staring felt different. Eddie’s was full of regret, he had wanted to talk to you ever since you left the dance, Steve’s was full of hunger -at least while you looked like that, skin wet, and your hair framing your face in a way he’d call heavenly if asked.- though if you were honest, you felt a trace of desire in Eddie’s eyes everytime yours met.

Robin had enough of that show, and even if she promised to herself she wouldn’t say anything, she needed to talk to someone, so she did.

“Nance, can you help me get some wine?” She asked, a lift of the eyebrow and she understood she needed to speak to her.

“Sure.” She added before following her into the house.

Eddie and Jonathan stayed there, grinding some weed for later. Steve looked at them, and stood up, walking to the edge of the pool, sitting on it, waiting for you to come.

Robin started rumbling as soon as they reached the kitchen.

“I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. But if I don’t tell it to someone I’m gonna lose my mind” She was talking in a fast-paced manner that let Nancy know just how much she had been needing to talk.

“Jesus okay. Breathe.” She said, pushing her shoulders down. “Now, shoot.”

“I overhead the new couple at the prom.” She started, waiting for a nod from Nancy so she could continue. “Steve told her that he knows about Eddie’s feelings, and that he’s okay sharing? What does that even mean? Has he ever said something like that to you? Do you think… Maybe Steve wants to…?”

Nancy’s eyes opened wide, at the amount of information and preceding questions she asked, her head working overtime to keep up with her friend.

“He’s okay sharing as in…”

“I think he wants her to make a move or something, so she can know for sure she wants to be with him but that’s just…” She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, not without implying something she’d hate for people to imply about herself.

“Steve really has changed.” Nancy over enunciated, raising her eyebrows as she looked over for the wine. Robin erupted in laughter.

“What do you think I should do?” She implored now, stepping in closer to her, grabbing some glasses for the white wine.

“You? Nothing. I’m sure Eddie’ll catch on soon enough.” She pointed out, as she started to head out. “He’s practically drooling everytime she looks at her.” She joked as Robin chuckled, following her closely.

At the same time, Jonathan looked at Eddie, and how concentrated he was on grinding the weed so he could smoke it. He knew Eddie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and he knew how much it could help, so he stayed put, waiting for him to finish.

“Look dude, I don’t really know you that much but uh… You’ve got something in your mind.. If you need to uh.. talk it out…” He offered, feeling incredibly embarrassed by that leap he was making, knowing Eddie had the right to blow him off.

He didn’t. He looked up, nodding with a half smile as he mouthed a thanks. He looked over at Steve walking closer to you and the sense of urgency came back.

“Pass me the paper, please?” He babbled, as his hand reached out. Grabbing it and starting to roll what would -hopefully- calm him down. “I just… I fucked it up.” He added, nodding at you, and the way you smiled as soon as you saw Steve.

“Why’d you say that?”

“She told me if she was supposed to wait for me forever, next thing I know, she’s kissing Steve.” He sputtered, a trace of hurt could still be felt on his voice. Jonathan gave him a reassuring touch on his shoulder.

“That’s Steve… Though to be fair… You shouldn’t lose hope.” He recomforted him, looking at Nancy as she came back, a smile on his face.

Talking of Steve he found his way to you. His legs on the water, moving it slightly, the waves hitting your body. You looked over at him, a smile wide on his face.

You swam closer to him, instead of laying against the granite that circled the pool, you let your arms rest on his thigh, looking up at him with dreamy eyes.

“Hi.” You beamed at him, the softness of your tone made him get even more lost into you.

“Hi.” He echoed, one of his hands cupping your cheek, you gave in to the touch. “You should get out, Nancy went to get your favourite wine.” You smiled deeply at him, he really did care for you.

“Going.” You whisper as you find your way to the stairs, pushing your head down one last time, so the hair wouldn’t annoy you.

Eddie caught that. And the way you walked out of the pool was enough for his cock to push against his zipper. He crossed his legs, enjoying the show a bit more, as he lit the joint he had been preparing. He got a bit lost, especially on the way your hair not only framed your face, but your breasts, that seemed to shine as water dropped out of them. It didn’t help that you were wearing white, he was going to lose his mind.

Only this time, Steve caught him, a cheeky grin appearing on his face as he made eye contact with Eddie, who became flustered. Steve just nodded, and mouthed its fine. Eddie had never been more confused.

“We’ve got your wine!” Robin cheered, as she raised a glass to you. You took a good sip of it, the lightness of it invading your mouth, a smile left on your lips.

“Cheers.” You added, taking another taste. “I’ll just go change really quick.”You excused yourself, bending down a bit so you could put your drink down. It was torture for Eddie, who was trying extremely hard not to be too evident, but right now he just felt you were starting to tease him, bending over when that little fabric was covering you.

Maybe you were.

It was intoxicating, knowing that you did have that power over both of them. While Eddie was a bit too lost in your behind, Steve got lost in your chest, even if he was more taken aback with the eye contact you liked to keep. You walked slowly back into the house, up the stairs to the left where Steve’s room was. You grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and a pair of faded, soft, basketball shorts that were too short on him, yet perfect for you. You found your way to the downstairs bathroom, knowing that you could hang your bikini there until it dries off, and that no one would really know -or care- if you were wearing underwear or not.

You left the door ajar, it would only take a moment.

The top part was changed in a swift movement, so was the down one.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair becoming a tangled mess, it would only get worse if you didn’t brush it off soon. You looked for one, something, anything, unsuccessfully.

The door opened all of a sudden. Eddie was there, an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry, thought nobody was here.” He pleaded, as he started to close the wooden door.

“It’s fine, I’m just looking for a hairbrush, then I’ll leave.” You tried to explain to him, not really wanting him to leave, fully aware that those were the first words you’ve exchanged.

“You won’t reach it.” Eddie mumbled, walking back in. He closed the door, and opened the cabinet that was higher up, grabbing a little box that had various different combs on it. He grabbed the one that was better for your hair and looked at you. “D’you want me to…?” He gestured with his hands, up and down, a brushing motion.

You nodded, your back now facing him, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Eddie looked back at you, your eyes meeting on the reflective surface. He pursed his lips, the high made everything feel ten times more intense. It was intoxicating enough being near you, getting to be this close to you made it hard for him to concentrate.

You kept looking at him, and every move he made, the tension that was getting created in that little space growing larger and larger. A sense of electricity, of magnetism pulling you in closer, close enough that your waist touched his. He breathed out loudly, knowing this was getting a bit too much. But the small tugging in his pants only made your lip quiver with more confidence, he wanted this just as much as you did. You got on your tip-toes for a moment, just to go slowly down, your butt graceing his crotch slowly. You could see the way his eyes shut down for that moment, how his mouth opened, how his hands grabbed your hair and the brush harder, trying not to say anything. It was intoxicating. He finished brushing your hair, and he let the comb hit the floor. You made eye contact through the mirror once again, as he breathed in that loud manner again, shaking his head at you, struggling to let something out of his lips.

“Dove… I…” He tried, your hands already on the back of his neck, pushing him in against you, you needed to feel him, as near as you could.

“I do like you.” You confessed in between whispers, your fingers tugging his hair. “I just… I’m confused.” You admitted, your hips had started a little pattern, grinding against his crotch. A needines was beating on your chest, traveling all the way down to where you made contact with him.

“Fuck…” And with that you knew what was coming.

Eddie let out a moan out of hornyness and anger. He had wanted you for so long, he would be an idiot if he didn’t at least give you a kiss.

Just one kiss, he told himself.

His hands grabbed your waist tightly, turning you so you’d finally look at his eyes, not at a mirror, the brown of them almost gone, a hunger you were experiencing just as much as he was. Even if he was dying for more, he started kissing your cheek, a trembling hand grabbing your butt, messaging it, your leg lifting on instinct, pushing his crotch with yours, the feeling of the zipper messing with you, the soft fabric not protecting you much. He kept kissing your neck, and the little zone behind your ear, leaving soft moans every time his mouth left your skin. Once you were drunk on him, he cupped your face with one hand, the other still holding your butt firmly, and finally let your lips touch. You became one in that moment, your waist still moving, your hands scratching his back in an attempt to obtain more. You needed to drink every single drop of him. His hand started teasing at your behind, a smile when he noticed the lack of underwear, and just how sensitive you were. If he pushed the short upwards, the fabric touched you in a way that made you whimper.

It wasn’t fair, you also deserved to play.

Your hands left his back, travelled to his crotch, undoing the belt in a swift movement. The sound of the belt buckle made him snap back.

That was more than one kiss.

“We can’t…” He said, pulling strength from somewhere, he wasn’t sure where.

“Steve doesn’t mind.” You tried to make him understand, unsuccessfully.

“If I was him, I would want you all to myself.”

The sun was setting, Nancy was half asleep into Jonathan’s arms, Robin was a bit too inebriated, laughing at every small detail she saw.

It wasn’t difficult.

When you came out of the bathroom, a flustered Eddie followed you minutes after. Steve looked at you with a puzzled look, and you just nodded.

Now you were sitting between them both.

Jonathan looked at Steve’s grip on your thigh, while your pinky was grabbing Eddie’s. He opened his eyes as soon as he understood. He gave Eddie a quick look, he just nodded in quiet disbelief.

“I think we should go.” Jonathan said in a soft-spoken voice, brushing Nancy’s hair.

“I’m way too wasted to drive.” Eddie muttered in response, a cheap excuse everyone noticed. He wasn’t ready to leave.

Jonathan offered his hand, Eddie’s van keys fell onto his palm.

“Okay then, we’ll go.” He stood up, helping Nancy up, gesturing to Robin to follow him. She looked back at the three of you, she struggled to hide a chuckle.

“Fine… au revouir!” She teased as soon as she looked at you, your cheeks getting that pinkish tone to them again. You hid your face behind your palm, begging she was the only one out of them that understood the stupid joke. The shocked giggle out of Steve’s lips let you know he got it too.

“I’ll walk with you to the door.” Steve added, off-handedly. As soon as he stood up and took a couple of steps, he looked at you over his shoulder, the prettiest smile on his face.

It was a do whatever you need, a i want you to do it, a please do it.

The type of look that drove you insane.

Eddie lit up another spliff, standing up, your eyes looking up at him, all doe-like. If only you could read his mind, he thought.

“I think I’ll go for a swim.” You were unsure if it was an invitation, or if he just needed some space, a moment to think it all well.

Truth be told, Eddie was curious about what you’d do now, once he took his shirt off, careful not to burn anything, smoke still coming out of his mouth, a delightful picture you would keep in your mind for a long time.

You hadn’t seen him shirtless.

It was a sight to see, you thought. You knew he had muscles, you didn’t know his were somehow more defined than Steve’s. His chest was pale, decorated with ink, your fingers suddenly tingling the urge to trace over them, especially the one he had near his hip bone.

Eddie enjoyed seeing you like that, for once you were the one thirsting over his body, your mouth half opened, having trouble taking your eyes off his chest, while yours all of a sudden raised faster. Your breathing quickening.

His back was also well defined, framed by his hair swinging a bit with every step he took, his curls bouncing in an hypnotizing manner.

He sat down on the steps of the swimming pool, his waist submerged in the water. He smiled as soon as he heard your cautious steps approaching him. You sat near him, your body not in the water, only your legs, looking at his side profile. You could draw him from memory alone, you realised. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you, his usual grin that always made you smile back. He offered the joint to you, you shook your head, a drink still in your hand.

“We’re swimming?” Steve proposed at the sight of you two, already taking his shirt off.

Before any of you could answer, he had already jumped into the water, swimming back in the middle of you, taking the offer of the spliff Eddie had in between his fingers with a shrug.

“I’m not wearing uh…” Your eyes darted nervously at Eddie, and the memory of his fingers discovering it just a few minutes ago. He did the same, his hand twitching as he made eye contact with you.

“I’m sure Eddie won’t care.” He assured, his tone dropping a bit. The husky tone hypnotising you. Steve looked at the curly headed boy waiting for a response. He just scratched his chin, looking back at you, his eyelids half closed. “See, he doesn’t.” He gestured back at him, getting a bit closer to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to” He whispered, needing you to know he meant it, the softness of his words made you know he was telling the truth.

As soon as you felt Steve’s hand on your thigh, and how good the water droplets falling from them felt on your skin, you opened your legs, letting him gain access, his hands finding the hem of your shorts rapidly, pulling them down softly.

Eddie was hypnotised by it. The way your legs looked, the look of devotion you had for Steve, how confident you seemed, the shy soft smile in your face as you were enjoying his touch against your skin as the shorts became a faint memory. He looked attentive as Steve’s hands reached the end of your shirt, how his lips kissed your knee, eyes closed, how a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt himself grow, no longer restricted by his jeans. The spliff long forgotten by your side, his full attention in how more parts of you were revealed, as Steve slowly took your shirt off. The first thing he saw was the curvature of your back, your stomach following it closely. When he saw your breasts under the sunset, he realised he had never been as hard. You shook your head as soon as the shirt was off, your hair flowing freely. Your hand caressing Steve’s face, inching closer to him, leaving a sound kiss on his lips. He was trying to repress the urge he had of touching himself, it felt like he was looking at a private show, just for him.

Steve helped you into the water, his hands holding tightly onto your waist, pulling you in slowly. Enjoying the sound you made as water hitted your full body. He had only eyes for you. His nose touched yours, asking for permission to kiss you once again, his bare chest hitting yours, you were the one who broke the distance, pushing into him with the usual care. Steve’s lips were soft, fitted with yours perfectly, you thought.

Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He had to touch himself. It was pathetic, he thought, you were making out in front of him, and he needed to touch himself, feeling like if he didn’t take it out, it would just start to hurt, so he did. He grabbed the waistband of his swimsuit down, already stroking his dick in a slow movement, when all of a sudden, you made eye contact with him, while you were still kissing Steve. You broke the kiss, yet Steve kept kissing your neck, one of his hands already on the small of your back, pushing your entrance to his erection. You moaned at the sight of him, and Eddie’s movements deepened.

“You wanna kiss her?” Steve asked as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing the way Eddie looked at you, his cock still out. “Come.” He invited him, with a quick shake of his head. “She really wants you to do so, Munson.” That did it for him, that and the fact that you moaned as soon as you heard his last name, though maybe that had more to do with the way Steve’s fingers were teasing you now.

He didn’t really waste that much time, he took off his swimsuit before coming into the water, not caring about anything else but the way your eyes looked at him, needing him. You felt his dick on your stomach, the hardness of it coming into contact with you thanks to the short distance. Eddie’s hands didn’t shake now, he was decided. They held your face, coping your cheeks in the way he had hoped to do so for so long, breaking the distance, as your lips found each other. Your tongues touching, finally, both of you thought, as your hands reached for his body, as did his.

Steve was still enjoying himself, touching you, feeling how you squirm under his touch, your legs shaking a bit as he kept teasing, your clit missing him everytime he messed around.

Eddie couldn’t stop kissing you, he was enjoying it maybe a bit much. He had never tasted something better, and he never wanted to. He wished in between kisses to remember this sensation forever, your hands on his body, fingers buried deep into his skin, begging for more as you moaned into his mouth.

Your hands were dangerously low, but it didn’t matter.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt Steve’s fingers reaching inside you, moving them slowly, each movement deeper than the last.

“Please.” You begged, looking up at Steve, his hand reaching for your neck, leaving a thigh squeez before he kissed your cheek. “Please.” You whimpered again, looking outside the pool.

Eddie understood, and followed closely. Steve pushed your body up, you were now sitting on the stone that circled the pool, your body slowly hitted the ground, legs hanging from the edge, grabbing Eddie’s hand so you’d have him near, your hand started messing with his pelvic bone, a few brushes, caresses and he was already doing that loud breathing that proved to drive you insane.

Steve didn’t waste no time, grabbing the back of your legs, pushing your body closer to the edge, leaving kisses on your knee, then your upper thigh, the inside of it, everywhere his lips had access to, while his hand got a bit busy feeling you, and the wetness of your entrance.

Eddie brushed your hair behind your ear, before diving in for a kiss, his lips touching yours, just so he could have an excuse to start kissing your neck, hearing you make such pretty noises that close to his ear was something he never thought he would be able to. To be fair, he moaned as soon as your hand wrapped around his dick, starting the slow movement, he smiled in between kisses as you kept it going.

The combination of it all; Eddie moaning your name that close to your ear, your whole body filled with goosebumps, as Steve started kissing your clit, it made you arch your back.

“You’re sensitive today.” Steve teased, as his lips went back to the spot that was driving you mad, one of his fingers starting to make his way inside you, you felt him smile as he heard you moan at that.

“Jesus sweetheart…” Eddie breathed out, a groan escaping the back of his throat, his voice was the lowest you had ever heard. “If you keep touching me like that, making those sounds…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

He saw the way you smiled proudly at the praise, your teeth biting your lower lip, while you breathed heavily, he had to kiss you again, that way he knew you’d be moaning into eachothers’ mouths.

Once Steve had three fingers inside you, his movements finding the perfect pace, his mouth all over you, legs shaking while his head was in between he could tell you were close, Eddie’s hands stroking your body helping in that. Speaking of, he looked at him, he could also tell he was trying not to come, not yet. He stopped eating you out, his head resting on your tight.

“You wanna…?” He asked you first, nodding to him. He could tell you did, just by the way your eyes shined as soon as he asked, he had to hide a giggle once he looked at Eddie who was concentrating on something else.

“Edds” You begged, moaning his name. It made him tilt his head backwards a bit, your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick. “Can you fuck me?” He had to bite the inside of his lips so he wouldn't come right then. His hands grabbing your legs, turning your body to him, so your entrance would be at his level was enough confirmation. Before Eddie started, while he was admiring you in all your glory, you looked deep into Steve’s eyes, your hand finally dropping his swimsuit, stroking him. A hunger in your eyes before you asked “Can I?”

He nodded.

Then he looked around, knowing that it would be more comfortable for you if you were on the couch.

“Inside.” He groaned, looking at you first, then turning to Eddie.

Before you knew it, Eddie was sitting on the couch, too much in a hurry to care if it became a bit wet, his hands got lost in your waist, kissing the zone between your belly button and your cunt, your skin reacting to every touch, pulling you in softly, slowly. While Steve was next to you, his hand still touching your clit, getting you warmed up for Eddie, as your hand curved around his cock, stroking it.

You noticed, while Eddie was longer, Steve was wider. Both of them large, though Eddie’s curved a bit, you knew that would be something you’d like, and you were eager to prove it to yourself.

Your free hand touched Eddie’s chin, making him look up at you, his gaze into yours, lowering as you sat on top of him.

You both moaned as he entered you, you made your way down slowly, fully wrapping around him, a sensation you were sure you could never forget. His hand grabbing your waist, guiding you gracefully. You left a quick kiss on his lips, before turning to find Steve.

He waited for you to guide him, he knew just how overstimulating everything must be, as much as he wished for you to do something right now, he waited, patiently, stroking his own erection as he looked at you, and the way you bounced on top of Eddie’s cock.

You pulled him in, his knees on the couch, his body sitting where the head usually rests, his hand petting your hair, you didn’t waste that much time, filling your mouth with him.

“Honey…” He blurted, having trouble articulating words. “You’re taking both of us so well.” He praised, as he started to pull your hair, your head following the movements, effectively mouthfucking you at the pace he wished, a series of profanities falling from his mouth.

“You really are.” Eddie added, his hands pulling you in deeper, your eyes closing out of pure pleasure, as his cock pushed into you, a rhythm you felt right in your stomach.

Eddie couldn’t help himself, he started with just a thigh squeeze, just to end up slapping your ass, the sound of the clapping only turning you on faster. Eddie was so close, his arms wrapped around you, in complete devotion. You took a second, continuing to work on Steve with your hand to kiss Eddie, Steve’s precum still on your throat, but he didn’t care. He needed you there, his forehead against yours, his mouth moaning and half screaming your name.

“I’m not gonna last long.” He said, drunk on you from head to toe.

“I want you…” You started, having to gather some air before continuing, you could feel his dick ripping you deeper every time he reentered, his hand pushing you deeper into him every time you did. “To come, please, Eddie, please.” You ended begging in a whimper, that did it for him.

You kissed him, before your head fell into his shoulder, biting him as you felt the way his muscles flexed around you, his head falling backwards.

“Shit” Eddie groaned as soon as he felt himself come, deep on you, looking deep in your eyes, a smile evident in them. Steve didn’t even think about it before doing it, once he made eye contact with him, his lips were on his, a soft kiss that needed to happen. Eddie’s hands still on the small of your back, Steve’s on the back of your neck.

“Hot.” You whispered, making you all three laugh, breaking the soft tension that was in the air.

You got off, Eddie groaned as he felt you leave, he didn’t want you to ever leave his side. You looked back at Steve, he knew what you wanted, no words needed. He nodded, before kissing you again, his hands pulling you a bit closer to him, before turning you over.

Your stomach laid on the couch cushions, your ass high as he could get it, a sight he loved if he was honest, only this time your head rested on Eddie’s lap, while he brushed your head, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at Steve, another sight to be seen he thought. He took a moment to take it in, before his hands grabbed your waist, helping them find his way inside you, a moan of pure delight as you felt him. You bite Eddie’s thigh, careful not to moan too loud.

The sight of Steve fucking you, you trying desperately not to scream as he moved slowly, filling you up wider that he had, the small kisses and bites you were leaving on his skin were enough for him to get hard again, and you took that opportunity gladly, your tongue on the tip of his dick, licking tentatively, as you heard him groan at the feeling of you playing with him, his hands on his head, already overstimulated. Steve took that as what it was, and he went in harder, and harder, and harder.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good baby.” He moaned, his fingers turning white as he held you, no doubt leaving a mark on your body.

“Shit…” Eddie moaned again, as your lips opened wider, swallowing him deeper and deeper. “You’re… fuck you’re amazing.” He struggled to say as he whimpered, the praise only making you go in ways he never imagined.

Steve felt how your walls were closing, a clear indication you were getting exactly where he wanted you to be, his nails digging in your skin, in the kind of way he knew drove you insane, your back arched even more, letting him get deeper than he ever had.

“Eddie” Steve said, looking at him, his eyes were half gone once he looked back. “Touch her, she’s close.”

You confirmed as much, whining while your mouth was still filled with Eddie’s cock, your left hand stroking him at the same pace as Steve was fucking you.

As soon as you felt Eddie’s fingers on your clit, the coldness of the rings only making you enjoy it even more, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. Eddie felt it too, you were struggling to concentrate on sucking him off, so he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you instead.

“I rather hear you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear.

“Keep doing that, please.” You begged at both of them.

They did, somehow with the same rhythm, Eddie’s hand knew exactly how to touch you, while the other one was touching himself. Steve kept fucking you, the sound of your body hitting his was magic, you thought. Symphonies could be written with the way it all sounded, Eddie praising you, guiding you through it, Steve’s groaning your name as he pushed in and out, and you being as loud as you wanted to.

It didn’t take long before Steve felt it, your legs thigting, the sharp intake of your breathing, your hand closing in a fist.

“You can come, honey.” He groaned, as he too felt himself not being able to hold it for much longer.

“Please.” Eddie added, as he too wasn’t gonna last that much more.

You did, your back arched as you felt Steve hit you for a couple more times before the warmness filled you up, leaving every inch of your skin he could find covered with kisses. Eddie came, the cum falling in his stomach and hand.

“Jesus…” Eddie muttered, as he let his body fully relax.

“Yeah…” Steve added, pulling out of you, pulling you in for a hug as soon as his body hitted the couch.

You melted into his arms, nudging Eddie to come closer. He did with a half smile, you enjoyed Steve’s caressing of your skin whilst your fingers got lost into Eddie’s hair.

“Robin’s gonna kill me when I tell her…” Eddie muttered, before realising that he wasn’t sure if you were going to tell people about it.

“What will you tell her?” Steve asked, as if he could read his thoughts. Not in an inquisitive tone, more of a curious one.

“Tell her you went to Paris.” You half joked, a giggle escaping your lips. “She already knows, I’m sure.” You let the two confused men know.

“Does she?” Steve’s curiosity piked, you nodded, leaving a kiss on his chest.

“She said I should visit it right before the dance.” You let them know.

“Well, thanks Robin.” Eddie laughed, intertwining your fingers with yours.

“Are you staying over?” Steve asked at Eddie, you could sense a bit of hopefulness in his tone.

“If you let me.”

“We should go to bed then, comfier.” Steve added, the biggest smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll do this again.” He finished with a kiss on the top of your head.

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awfcspencer · 2 days

Text

Story Of Us || leah williamson x reader

prompt: A peek into one of Stella’s sleepless nights.

warnings: none!

In this universe.

“Welcome home, Stella.” Leah cooed to the newborn soothingly rocking in her arms as she walked through the front door. Stella was dressed in a onesie that had pink flamingos sprayed across the fabric, paired with a tiny matching pink cap that covered her small traces of blonde hair that you assumed would grow in to match Leah’s, her sleeping form content in the comforting arms of her mother.

After nearly two days in the hospital once Stella made her long-awaited entrance into the world, she was finally home. There was a brief scare concerning her lungs, but luckily Stella was already forming into a little warrior as the two of you were cleared to leave the next day, Stella passing her newborn tests with flying colors.

Since then, Stella had been practically glued to defender’s arms or her chest, the blonde feeling at peace when she could feel Stella’s tiny rhythmic breathing and heartbeat flush against her own body.

“Welcome home, baby girl.” You softly whispered to the chubby little baby, using the backside of your pointer finger to brush her puffy cheeks gently as her tired eyes fluttered open. Your daughter was a clear copy image of Leah, her bright blue eyes and small button nose resembled the defender perfectly.

It was such an odd feeling returning home, you left with a baby in your stomach and you returned with a human, a real-life, breathing human, it was all a bit surreal.

“Are you okay love?” She asked in a soothing, low tone, voice soft with affection peering towards you.

“Mmm, just a little sore.” You explained to her, wincing slightly at the pain that still lingered from birth a few short days ago. Luckily, you had your amazing wife by your side who catered to your and Stella’s needs attentively. Having a baby was stressful, overwhelming, and tiring daily, but Leah made the transition much easier with her supportive efforts.

“Are you okay to show her the nursery or should we wait?” She questioned with a clear concern about your well-being first. “I just want to show her together.” She expressed shyly.

Leah had become obsessed with nearly doing everything for Stella together, wanting both of you to experience every accolade of ‘Stella’s firsts’ as a pair, not wanting either to miss out on a single moment. First bottle, first bath, first everything was done together, it was adorable you couldn’t deny.

Leah was convinced Stella was already growing up too soon, whole-heartedly believing that Stella was nearly a day away from walking out the door at the ripe age of eighteen and never looking back. You’d had to take deep breathes with the blonde to calm her down after the single thought sent her into a frenzy just a few short hours after Stella was born.

“I am okay, let’s show her.” You confidently admitted, placing a tender kiss to the defenders lips before making your way towards Stella’s room.

Deciding on the theme of the nursey had been easy, a minimalistic theme with neutral colors that accented the wooden furniture that two of you picked out. The room also decked out with several stars and constellation images that reminded you about the origins of Stella’s name all those months that felt like forever ago.

What wasn’t easy was the countless hours the two of you spent trying to assemble said furniture and Leah’s persistence that a small plush gunnersaurus had to stay in the room, even though you pleaded with her that it did not match the aesthetic at all. You’d obviously given up the argument because there was simply no arguing with the true homegrown gunner and her initiative to raise a baby girl who also bled Arsenal.

You watched as Leah give Stella a tour of the nursery room while you sat in the rocking chair near the crib, the blonde showing Stella all the tiny outfits in her closet that she’d bought for her and pointing out the small Williamson kit that she made sure Stella knew she would be wearing one day.

There was something especially heartwarming watching your wife hold and interact with your daughter, Leah looking at Stella’s small form as if she hung the stars in the sky herself, the same loving look she sent you. It was all a serene moment and with the hormones still wracked all throughout your body, you felt yourself getting emotional at the sight, and in that moment, you just knew deep down that Leah was made to be a mommy, and she was going to do such a good job with Stella.

“Hey hey, what’s wrong?” Leah looked at you with worry in her eyes when she noticed the tears trickling from your eyelashes, making one long stride to meet you at the rocking chair.

“Happy tears.” You explained to her with a fond look, “She’s just perfect and so are you. If there was ever anybody meant for me and Stella, it’s you.”

Leah transferred Stella into the nook of your left arm and shuffled behind the rocking chair, placing her head in the crook of your neck so she could look down at Stella, “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else in the world.” Your wife beamed, “Can you believe we created her? She is the second closest thing to love at first sight that I’ve ever experienced.”

“Such the charmer you are Williamson.” You laughed at Leah’s cheesiness and wiped the few tears that had cascaded down your cheek with your free hand. Stella’s open palm searching for a finger that Leah happily slotted her pointer finger into, a common relax for babies that Leah’s heart swooned at every chance she got, loving the feeling of Stella’s petite hand wrapping around her.

“I am serious, she’s so beautiful and perfect, just like you. I love her, and I love you.” The new angle of Leah’s body allowed her give small pecks to your neck.

You looked down at Stella’s blue eyes staring at you and then behind you to meet the other blue eyes that had captured your heart, your mouth turning up into a soft smile and lips meeting Leah’s.

The soft whimpers of the infant made you and Leah quickly pull apart.

“Someone must be hungry.” You giggled, smiling down at the baby who began puckering her small rosy lips.

-----------

“Right on time, I’m coming sweetie.” You whispered to yourself as you rubbed your tired eyes and looked at the alarm clock that displayed just a few minutes after 3 A.M. The sound of Stella’s cries rang through the baby monitor that sat on your bedside table, piercing your ears.

You’d become a light sleeper ever since Stella came home, waking up nearly every time you heard a small grunt or even a whine through the white monitor, ready to quickly make a move towards the nursey if Stella needed anything at all.

As you stretched out your limbs, you peeked over to Leah who began to stir awake.

“I’ll get her, you go back to sleep.” She murmured to you, giving you a soft kiss to your temple before getting herself slowly out of bed. You sent her a sleepy smile and rolled back over into your pillow, plucking the baby monitor off the table and placing it near your head to watch and listen, smiling when you hear her angelic voice on the other end of the monitor.

“What’s wrong my little baby girl?” Leah cooed to the swaddled newborn when she enters the nursey room. She carefully picks Stella up and holds her in her arms close to her chest, occasionally pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head as she rocks your daughter.

“Oh Stella darling, I know you are tired. Shhh, your fine baby, I am right here.”

Leah moves her to the changing pad, undoing her pink swaddle that had little farm animals sprayed across the fabric. With escaped arms, her tiny limbs stretch wide as she wiggles around relentlessly with flailing legs.

“Come on baby, let me change you and then we can both get some sleep.” She whispers to the now seemingly wide-awake baby, using her thumb to wipe the big tears that cascaded down her red, puffy cheeks, trying to calm the infant down.

Stella’s high-pitched cries were persistent, unquestionably proving her small lungs were working and well.

“Are you hungry little one? Is that what is it? Well why didn’t you just say that?” Leah told the infant, chuckling to herself slightly and tickling her tiny belly, trying to keep her energy lighthearted as usually the hardest times of having a baby was the limited sleep and exhaustion that wracked most parents and she wanted to avoid ever making Stella feel like she was a chore, even if she was just a few days old.

Leah sat on the rocking chair, letting Stella drink from a bottle of previously pumped milk that morning, humming a lullaby that she’d sing to your belly when Stella was still growing. With Stella’s weeps dwindling into small whimpers, she decided these were some of her favorite moments of being a mother so far, her ability to soothe Stella and calm her own daughter down made her feel like a true mother, like her mother instincts had come although she hadn’t carried Stella herself.

“There you go my little angel.” She sighed in relief as Stella finished off her bottle. Leah moved to gently burp the bundle of limbs on her chest. It was an adjustment to get used to her own sleep getting interrupted nearly every hour to tend to a baby, but as she looked at her daughter, she knew she wouldn’t change it for the world.

Unfortunately, when Leah moved Stella back into her crib, her tiny face scrunched up unhappily and the wails began again, forcing Leah to pluck the newborn back up and find her spot back on the rocking chair, Stella’s eyes now wide and awake.

“Looks like neither of us are getting sleep.” She muttered in a tired voice but with a gentle smile, placing Stella’s back on her knees as she bounced them softly, occasionally blowing rasperries on the infant’s cheeks.

“Let me tell you a story Stella, the story of how I met your mommy.” She began, smiling so hard down at her daughter she thought her cheeks would be sore tomorrow.

Back in your shared bedroom, you were in and out of sleep, waking up every so often and checking in to see Leah and Stella in the nursery, but once you’d heard Stella’s cries die down, you’d fallen back asleep.

You wake up when you rolled over to cuddle further into Leah’s warm body but was instead met with her side cold and empty. You peeked down to the baby monitor and found her, listening in to what Leah was telling your daughter.

“And then your mommy fell head over heels for your mama, both physically and emotionally. She fell straight into me at the post celebration party after we won the Euros and she couldn’t leave me alone the whole night.” You heard her explain to the newborn, chuckling to yourself because that story couldn’t be farther from the truth.

You exit the warmth of your bed, grabbing the small monitor and shuffle down the hall towards where you wife and daughter were.

“Are you telling lies to our newly born daughter already Leah Williamson?” You joked quietly asked as you step into the nursery room doorway, presenting Leah the monitor in your hand that showed that you had heard everything she had said.

Leah eyes widened when she noticed your arrival, you could tell the color of her face draining out slightly even in the dimly lit nursery room. She immediately began scrambling on her words, trying to pretend she wasn’t just completely fibbing to the infant.

“Me lie? No Stella I would never do that!” She joked with sarcastic dramaticness before softly whispering close to the newborn, “Whatever your mommy says don’t believe her! We are now in this together Stella, hold a strong front.” She giggled to Stella, rubbing circles on her tiny belly.

You met her at the rocking chair, crouching down to meet Stella’s head directly, “What I think your mama meant to say was how she couldn’t leave me alone Stella.” You teased with a wink to your wife, electing to sit crisscrossed on the floor near the two people in the world who meant the absolute most to you.

“I don’t remember the story going that way.” She teased back, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile because she does know the story went that way, but she surely wasn’t ready to admit how she had acted like a lovesick puppy when she met you to her daughter, not yet at least.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of Lee, one day Stella will know.” You smirked, taking a subtle jab at your wife. The Euros celebration had been where you’d met the captain, you had accidentally ran straight into her looking for a friend that was quickly forgotten about after you locked eyes with the blonde, but you played it super cool, trying to conceal your excitement of the Leah Williamson in your presence by electing to play a game of cat and mouse.

A game Leah happily played alongside you, whisking you away to the dance floor nearly all night long and into the early hours of the morning. Leah tried nearly every attempt she could think of to sweep you off your feet, but still you remained headstrong, wanting the defender to truly work for it, and she did. A confession at the end of hours of dancing and an exchangement of numbers and the rest was really history, and now the two of you were married and had a daughter.

During the whisper back and forth with the blonde, Stella’s lashes fluttered slowly, her tiny fists rubbing her tired eyes and a small yawn escaping the lips of the newborn. The two of your voices lulling the infant to sleep as she still laid on Leah’s knees, you assumed she wanted to hear both of her parent’s voices before she fell back asleep.

Leah cautiously whisked Stella back into her crib, “Goodnight angel, sweet dreams.” She cooed, placing a kiss on her forehead as you did the same right after her. The blonde grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against her body as the two of you watched the infant’s chest rise and fall slowly, soft puffs of air leaving her tiny lips.

“I love you.” Your wife murmured.

“I love you too Lee, but if I don’t get some decent shuteye soon, I might lose it.”

“Alright mama bear, back to bed we go.” She laughed, closing the nursery door quietly and leading you back to your bedroom, ushering you into the warmness and comfort of your comforter and pillows. You placed the baby monitor back onto the bedside table and seeped into the softness of the mattress.

“Goodnight baby.” She whispered into your ear, sealing it with a similar kiss to your temple that she gave to Stella, pulling you impossibly closer to her body and tangling her legs into yours.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso blurbs #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x you #leah williamson

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confessioncassette · 3 days

Text

The Belly of a Black Heart - Alastor x Reader

18+. minors do not interact.

thank you @lustylita for the inspiration of this fic. your mind is a beautiful place. everyone check out her art and her concept to this story here. all credits to her, this was not my idea.

part 2

summary : After an unsuspecting death, you end up in hell and at the Hazbin Hotel. You become dead set on redemption. Alastor's feelings towards you are confusing and it pisses him off more than he can handle. In result, unknowingly to him, his feelings manifest through his shadow.

tw : no smut this chapter. angst. alastor being a jerk. mild gore/wound

words : 5.3k

notes : i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

When you wake the next morning, your head is a blur. Sitting up in your bed you take a minute to look around your new living situation. It takes a second to understand that this isn’t the room you usually wake up in but, despite all of that, you feel good.

The reality of being in hell was hard on you yesterday. You’ve had your little breakdown and denial fest.. you won’t let that bother you today. Pushing past things is how you manage. Always one step at a time. Plus, you’re in a place that offers redemption now. What’s done is done and now you can focus on how to get into heaven and maybe sort out a plan there. With God or something, right?

He’s literally God, maybe he could help your situation on earth. You doubt anyone here could help you… or even want to help you.

No headaches, your body doesn’t burn… today feels like you can start fresh. Rolling to get out of bed, your eyes catch a bundle of red in the corner of your eye.

Three red peonies tied together in a bow lay delicately over your unoccupied pillow.

You examine the vibrant flowers and thumb around the stems. You wonder who was thoughtful enough to give a simple yet welcoming gift.

Alastor’s fleeting expression and charming smile snatches your memory from last night. Your face almost burns, remembering how close he was to you, his face grazing against your cheek, breath fanning over you as it does.

Smiling to yourself, you think today would be a good day to get back on track. Charlie is willing to help you, and you might learn more about the gentleman from last night. You can even thank him for the lovely flowers.

The hotel buzzes with life when you walk to the formal dining room. Delicious breakfast foods waft through the air. The warm smell of coffee buzzes through your body.

“C’mon Husky, don’t chya wanna try it? I’ve been slavin’ over this all mornin’ for ya!” A tall, fluffy man leans over the dining room table, sliding a plate of food to a grumpy cat.

“Fuck no! Satan knows what you put in there and I don’t wanna risk dying twice.” Taking a swig from a browned bottle, the cat pushes away the plate.

The tall man’s shoulder slump as he lets out a groan. “Fine, but one day you’re gunna try my cookin’ and you’ll love it. You might even beg for moore.” He teases, taking the plate for himself as Husk rolls his eyes.

“Oh, good morning! How was your first night?” Charlie beams from the head of the table and everyone’s heads swivel to you. Suddenly, you’re on the spot.

“It was great, thank you. I actually had the best sleep I’ve had in a while,” you smile, “I needed it.”

“Everyone welcome our new guest! She arrived late last night.”

It was a small creature with a giant eye who lunged herself toward you first. Her little legs patting the floor and up your body before you could react.

“I’m Nifty, I clean.” A sinister giggle erupts from her lips before the tall man who offered.. Husk is it?.. a plate gently and removes her from you.

“Hey doll, I’m Angel.”

Alastor watches from the hallway as the group introduces themselves to you. Hidden in the shadows, he watches you closely. The way you smile fondly towards people you barely know, how you embrace each one with a greeting. Clearly, you lighten the room. But you’re a mystery, and one he doesn’t want to get involved with.

Does he?

Your sweet doe eyes are burned in a memory. He couldn’t help but get close enough to smell you, and fuck, did your saccerine smell burn through his nostrils as well. He could see your panic, the reality of your new eternal life smacking you in the face… the frustration it caused you last night.

But were you really keen on redemption? He could see the light beam behind your eyes once you stood at the center of your room. You belong here, you’re here for a reason. It’s hell afterall. Every sinner who comes here belongs to this wretched place to burn forever. Surely Charlie’s delusions didn’t persuade you in one night?

Surely you’re not that…simple?

“Will Alastor be joining us for breakfast? He’s the only one I haven’t seen this morning.” Alastor ears perk up at your voice from afar.

“Ehh, smiles doesn’t usually eat with us. Probably up in his room going to town on some animal he caught this mornin’.” Angel grimaces.

Watching your reaction closely, the slight fall of your face doesn’t go unnoticed. But you’re quick to recover with a smile and dig in with everyone else.

“Okay everyone! Gather around! Today we will be learning about each other.” Charlie’s hand gestures to you on the couch as everyone else filters into the common room.

Angel plops himself over the couch’s armchair next to you, stretching his long legs over your thighs. Husk mopes in the room, bottle in hand and leans against the fireplace. Nifty props herself over the table happily swinging her legs and Vaggie stands beside her partner, eyeing everyone down.

Your eyes carefully glance around the room, trying not to bring attention that you’re looking for Alastor. From your comment at breakfast before, you don’t want to keep bringing the man up to avoid conversations you don’t want to have.

But it fails.

“Looking for tall dark and creepy?” Angel shimmies his chest and throws you a wink.

Rolling your eyes you push playfully at Angel’s leg. “No, just making sure everyone is here.” Giving him a side eye you whisper, “nosey.”

Angel laughs and gives you a nudge, “Well looks like you’re in luck toots, looks who’s comin’.”

Perking up, you watch Alastor’s tall form stride in the room and take a seat in an armchair directly across from you. His smile is wide, but it seems strained? Folding one leg over the other, he relaxes back into his seat. His eyes scan the room, probably checking for roll-call, before landing directly over you.

You give a smile but he doesn’t react.

“Okay! Now that everyone is here, we will be telling 2 truths and a lie. Everyone will say two truths about themselves and one lie. The group will have to guess which one is a lie. So fun!” Charlie claps.

“I don’t want to put our new guest on the spot, so let’s start with Husk.”

A low groan emits from the fireplace where Husk stands. He really looks like he doesn’t want to be here, but maybe he’s been here long enough to know that he has to participate.

“Alright, uh, I can down a whole bottle of whiskey with no reaction, I suck at dice games, and I hate water.”

“I’ll give you something to down, Husky~” Angel tosses his head back and blows him a kiss.

“For fuckssake,” Husk rolls his eyes.

“Oh oh! I know, the lie is he hates water! I’ve seen him take bubble baths at night.” Nifty giggles sinisterly.

“Okay good job, Nifty.” Vaggie cringes and turns her attention to you, “Would you like to give it a try next?”

Glancing between her and Alastor’s heavy stare, has he been looking at you this whole time? You shrug. “Sure, I'll give it a shot. Let me think…” You hum.

“I’ve been in hell for a long time, I love to dance and I’m pretty good at it, and I stole drugs when I was alive.” You’re not that great with coming up with things on the spot, but you gave it your best shot. First things that came to your mind and all without being too personal.

Angel drags out a hum, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you can dance. Not sure if I would paint you as someone who would steal. You act like Miss-goodie-two-shoes’s-distant relative over there. I’m gunna go with that one.”

You couldn’t help but contain your smile, you could have sworn that your appearance gave you away that you literally died just yesterday.

“Nope! I died yesterday and found this place last night. Thank god I saw your commercial, I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t.”

Angel’s mouth drops open and leans forward. “Hold on, you’re like, super fresh? No kiddin’. So… you stole drugs?” He looks you up and down, “can you do it again?”

“Matter of fact, we don’t know much about you. Anything at all really. I’ll take it you’re here because you stole, but there’s gotta be more than that.” Husk examines his bottle.

You shift in your seat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I stole but- I don’t know.” Memories of stealing drugs, scamming people for money flood your mind. That stuff was bad, but did it really land you here in hell? I’m sure it’s a part of the 10 commandments or sins or whatever…

The man. Your knife.

You killed someone right before dying.

“What drugs do you like? I got some good connections. We could totally-”

“No! Nonono, no one is going to do that. Say no to drugs! Remember we are trying to get redeemed?” Charlie’s arms wave frantically as she lets out a nervous laugh.

It was all for protection. You never wanted to hurt anyone like that before, it’s not like you wake up blood thirty for killing. It was self defense.

Guilt bubbles within your gut, and it’s getting hard to breathe. Would they even care if you killed? You’re sure almost everyone in hell has killed, even in the afterlife.

“C’mon, toots, tell us a little about yourself. This is about sharing after-all,” Angel teases. “I wanna know all the shit you did when you were alive! You sound like a good time, Y’know my girl buddy would love you-”

“I think that’s enough for today.” A staticy voice interrupts the conversation. Your head swivels to meet the demon who carries a strained smile. The hair on his ears stick up in a frenzy while his claws grip over the top of his microphone cane.

“But Alastor we barely got star-”

“I think,” Alastors voice grows with static, every word pronounced precisely, “that is enough for today.”

Angel's legs slide off you as he stands to stretch, “Aww what a buzzkill.”

Before you have the chance to leave the room, your face is met with Alastor’s chest.

He lifts his chin, but his eyes bore down at yours. Your eyes shoot wide with the proximity, and something within his chest spurs as wait for him to speak.

“I would like to speak with you privately, my dear.”

Following him up the stairs and into his radio tower, you tread lightly in new territory. Papers over his desk are neatly stacked next to a forgotten cup of coffee. The walls are floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pride, you’ve come to know. Dusk stretches the horizon and little dots of light twinkle in the distance over the city. On the other side of the room, old equipment lined the wall. Hundreds of knobs and switches cover the machines and you wonder how he’s able to work such equipment. Speakers, extra microphones sat upon a bookshelf along with books, magazines and other nic-nacs you’re sure he has collected through the years.

You’re not sure how old the demon is, and you’re not sure how you haven’t thought about it since meeting him, especially when he has taken up most of your mind these past 24 hours.

You guess he’s from the roaring 20’s? 30’s? He’s dressed sophisticatedly with not a hair out of place. His posture paints him a perfect gentleman in a society where it mattered. His transatlantic accent was smooth and you long to hear it more than you should, or do. And guessing by this set up, the ON AIR sign that hangs directly over his desk, you could be right.

But what of this demon? What is his story? You’ll put a pin in it and ask angel later-

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here so I’ll cut to the chase.” Alastor’s arms are neatly behind his back as he looks over Pride. Without turning to you, he continues.

“I’m looking for more help around the hotel. Husk’s job is primarily tending to the bar, Nifty cleans and Charlie is over her head with trying to recruit sinners. I’d like to say that I have everything handled with paperwork and trying to keep this pace afloat, but I don’t.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. He.. can’t handle it all? He definitely gives the calm, cool collected attitude of one who would never need help.

“So, you need my help? I thought I was just a sinner trying to get redemption?”

Alastor stiffens for a moment before turning to you. “I thought you should know that Charlie and I had a discussion earlier. We think that you fit into the family seamlessly. We both thought you would be great at helping us with our little project.” He tilts his head, scanning you over, “Unless you don’t want to?”

You shake your head. This might not be a bad idea. This could actually help you in more ways than one. This could help you more with gaining redemption and be a part of a bigger picture.

“No, that all sounds great actually. What exactly do you have in mind for me to help you with?”

“More of the mundane things like checking over the hotel to make sure everything is in order, placing orders for food, toilet paper - the essentials.”

“So the mundane things you don’t want to do?” You laugh lightheartedly. “Sure, Alastor, I can do that for you. Do you have a check list for me?”

In one snap, Alastor conjures up a daily ‘to-do” list for you. Your eyes widen at his magic.

“If you can do that, why can’t you make food and toilet paper appear instead of ordering it?”

His smile is smug, “It’s a lot more complicated than that, little doe”

Turning on your heel, you say over your shoulder, “One day, I’d like to properly thank you for the flowers you left me.”

He watches you disappear through the doorway, confusion carved over his face. Flowers?

What an interesting thing to say… An odd woman.

Woman. Your presence had been the first in his studio.

Charlie and the guests know that no one is allowed in this room, for it’s locked 24/7. This room is his pride, his sanctuary and the one thing he’s carried on since dying. Besides killing and torturing innocent people, he supposes.

Clawing at the staff of his cane he shakes the thought of your company being… comforting.

His ear twitches in frustration. This foreign feeling- this odd hunger for catching your eye in a sea of others, to smell you near has become a twisted form of entertainment. He has to ignore the way his lower belly heats and aches when you're near…Is it entertainment? He stares at the door where you just stood.

Is his curiosity growing in the little moments you spend together or is it something he can’t pinpoint? His facade will fail to hold if he continues like this.

A predator assessing his pray like it’s a game. Except, it doesn’t feel like that kind of a hunt.

Stepping out from the bathroom after your nighttime routine, a darkness catches the corner of your eye.

“Hello?” you call out.

The darkness in the corner slithers across the floor and manifests itself in the center of your room.

You curse under your breath, while it’s not the craziest thing you’ve seen, it’s definitely unexpected.

“Um, hello there…” You stay standing in the doorway of your bathroom. Looking the creature over as it stands tall.

The creature, no, shadow, is dark, but you can make out that its body is made up of swirling smoke. It’s face gives a chiseled smile, imitating teeth through the smoke, and resting on top of it’s head were a pair of outgrown antlers that stretch wide.

You tilt your head at the creature, curious on why it hasn’t responded to you.

It tilts his head back, mimicking your movement.

“Cute,” you giggle, “what are you?”

The shadows' eyes glow green in response and gives you a bigger grin.

“Are you here at the hotel too? I just got here yesterday…” you shift on the balls of your feet. “Do you have a name?”

The shadow dissipates into the ground and for a moment, you’re spooked. Backing up into your bathroom, a coldness caresses your neck from behind.

Spinning around fast, you’re met with it again. The creature folds forward to meet your face.

Oh fuck no.

You fumble backwards a little too fast but the creature is quick to catch you by an arm. It steadies you easily.

“You’re.. Good, right? Friend?” The words fall stupidly out of your mouth. You feel like you’re talking to a child in simple words and a sweet voice. God knows that this creature is probably thousands of years old but you’re speaking to it like it lacks some form of intelligence.

The creature smiles and nods, backing away from you before wisping itself around your body in a cloud of smoke.

Warmth surrounds your body, unlike the coldness around your neck from before.

“Friend, okay…good.” You smile and embrace the dance it gives you.

The creature manifests itself over in front of your nightstand and the bundle of shadows steps aside to reveal the red peonies from this morning. Your eyebrows raise and realization hits you.

“That was you? What a lovely gift to give.. To me.” Surprise followed by stupidity hits you in the last bit of that sentence.

How could you be so stupid to think Alastor would give you those flowers? He hasn’t even spent much time around you, let alone want to speak to you. Every time you’re in the vicinity of him, he pretends you don’t exist.

Foolish.

Foolish to think that he would even take a liking to you.

And you mentioned it to him hours ago… God, he’s probably so confused and you look like a fucking idiot.

The shadow slumps at your reaction. Its swirls grow faster over its body, like the wheels in its head are thinking of a way to cheer you up.

Warmth caresses around your hips and playfully drags you to your bed. You let it happen because, for some ungodly reason, you trust this shadow.

It’s gentle hand lingers over your face, brushing over the skin of your cheek. A familiar feeling. Almost like the feeling of last night when Alastor’s-

No.

The creature lifts your chin to look at him as he takes a seat by you on the bed and you mentally brush away the cringe.

You both stare at each other for a moment. You're entranced by its odd behavior. Although, its presence feels familiar, a kind of nostalgia you cannot place. His warmth feels like a gentle hug, a friend in the darkness when you're alone.

The faint smell of whiskey, a bar of soap and lemongrass.

A warm song that dances inside your nostrils.

Your room is quiet, as you let the shadow tickle your face and neck.

Soft music begins to play when your eyes fight sleep. But you give into the lull of the shadows lullaby.

From that first night of meeting the creature, you’re woken up gently by it patting your head and urging you to get dressed. Funny enough, the creature disappears while you get ready, giving you privacy. But ultimately, you wouldn’t mind it at all if it stayed.

One night, after a particularly hard day working under Alastor, you named the being.

Umbra.

Not the most creative, but it was the first thing that popped in your head… and he, you’ve come to find out, was quite happy with the new nickname.

You weren’t sure where he came from, what he is, or what manifested himself to you that night, but you’re thankful for the company.

Umbra was quiet. He never spoke, but damn is he funny. Every night, he meets you in your room practically bouncing off the walls, or more so sliding everywhere in a mist of shadows and patiently listens when you talk about your day.

Every morning you wake up with new little flowers over your unoccupied pillow. Each of them a bundle of red, for some reason. But lovely all the same.

It became a nightly routine to where he’ll lull you to sleep with gentle caresses and soft old-timey music.

And it’s given you the best sleep of your life.

Alastor however, has been more distant than before. When asking for new lists everyday, he’ll stare down at you through lowered eyelids and hand you a list bigger than the last.

He never questioned your flowers comment, but you’re sure he hasn’t forgotten.

Though, through his aloof attitude, he still invades your personal space when talking to you - and he only talks to you when it’s absolutely needed. His stare burns new holes through you everyday before he locks himself up in his radio tower until dinner or Charlie's group exercises.

“Smiles has been such a fucking jerk lately, what did you do to’m?” Angel slumps over the armchair, preoccupied with texting.

“Me? He hardly talks to me! Everyday he’ll just hand me a list to do and disappears.”

“That’s exactly the problem, ever since he’s offered you a job here he’s been acting like there's a stick up his ass more than normal. You must being doin’ shit at your job.” He nudges you and you both laugh.

“Yeah, no idea. I try to talk to him. He’s the one person in this whole place I don’t even know about… but he ignores me.”

“I don’t think he completely ignores you, doll face. Do you notice how you’re the only thing he can look at when you’re around? Hard to get him to help Charlie lately, too.”

You blush and drag your gaze to the floor. “No, I didn’t notice that. What’s his deal anyways?”

Angel went into detail about how Alastor wa/is one of the most powerful overlords in the Pride ring. 7 years ago he disappeared or some shit but 7 months ago he came back and randomly ended up here. Some bullshit about wanting to help Charlie with her ridiculous delusions about saving a sinner. He’s just here for the ‘entertainment’, but he’s been a big help honestly. Especially in his battle during the extermination - before he got wounded.

Wounded? He could get hurt? A powerful overlord who has thousands of contracted souls could get… hurt? But there airs another question…

He doesn’t believe in redemption?

Your thoughts were cut short by a shadow carrying a mischievous grin lurking in the hallway. Umbra swirls in a mist of shadows as his eyes glow green and gestures for you to follow him.

Raising from the couch you head his way.

“Maybe he just needs some good head!” Angel calls out to you.

You follow Umbra as he slithers over the carpet, manifests himself over the walls and guides you upstairs. His cute grin makes you laugh, and you're excited to see what he has in store for you today.

Not noticing that you pass your own room, your eyes only watching Umbra flee with excitement, he leads you to a door at the end of a hallway. He turns to you, looking you once over and dissipates through the door.

Knowing you want him to follow, and without a second thought, your hand turns the knob and you fly inside Alastor’s radio room.

There, hunched over his desk wearing only his long sleeve undershirt and pants, Alastor’s back is turned to you.

“Who the fuck,” Alastor’s head turns over his shoulder, black eyes blown wide as his red pupils snap to you.

“Alastor- shit, I’m,” you back away, accidentally shutting the door behind you.

“Has anyone taught you proper manners? Don’t you know that walking in on someone is-” Every word cuts through you like a knife, the static in his voice grows louder in every syllable. The lights flicker around you as Alastor’s body grows larger in scale, his antlers growing wide.

“I didn’t know!” You yell honestly, you didn't know. Or, you weren’t paying attention.

“The door was locked, how did you get in here?” Red liquid oozes out of his mouth as his empty black eyes stare you down. But you’re not looking at the anger on his face, or the way his body engulfs the room. No, you're looking at how his arm covers a wound on his side. Your eyes scan to the side, where ointments and bandages lay askew over his desk.

“You’re hurt, Alastor.”

The radio demon stops, and for a moment, you catch surprise painted in his features.

“Let me help?” You offer, taking a step forward.

He doesn’t move.

“Get out.”

You step forward, unafraid of his form. He's hurt, and you can see the blood squelching against his hand, dripping to the floor.

You reach out, covering your hand over his bloodied one and your eyes flicker upwards to the beast before you.

A silent plea to let him help. If he’s been doing this on his own since the extermination, he hasn’t been doing a great job at mending it.

He gives a frustrated sigh, and shrinks back down to his normal self. Internally rolling your eyes at how easy that was to do… an all powerful overlord listening to you was a confidence booster to say the least.

You look down to assess the wound. His red undershirt wet and stained with blood on the right side of his torso.

You flash him a look for silent permission, and he nods ever so slightly, his eyes fixated on your face. You begin to unbutton his shirt from the top down. You scan your fingers delicately over his chest and down towards the wound. Alastor lets out a shaky sigh that goes unnoticed by you.

You expose his torso more by opening up his shirt to get a better look. Alastor leans back in his chair and curves his hips upwards ever so faintly. You swallow, fighting the demons in your head to take a closer look at his exposed body.

“Looks… bad.” You manage to say, focusing only on the wound before gentle fingers slide under your chin and angle your face upwards so he can see you fully.

And you swear, that for a moment, something swirls deep within his gaze. Something more than he lets on. A flash of hope? Eagerness?

Now’s not the time.

You clear your throat before grabbing supplies and getting to work.

Alastor was silent as you mended him. His eyes never left your face as you cleaned the wound and bandaged it neatly.

“All better!” You chime, doing your best to ignore the buzz on your chin from his touch, “Next time you try to do this yourself, try to find me? I don’t think it’s healed right for at least a couple weeks. You’re lucky it hasn’t gotten infected.”

“We’re in hell, dear, I’m sure there’s worse things to worry about than an infected wound.”

He didn’t even bother to say thank you.

Is this the sophisticated and well-mannered demon Charlie raved about? The helpful demon that made this hotel?

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding and your shoulders shrug downward.

“Is there a reason why you’ve been so avoidant since I arrived? Everyone has been talking about how you’ve been acting differently since I showed up. Why is that? Did I do anything to you?” You avoid his eye contact by putting away the medical supplies inside a metal box.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. I’ve always been the same.” He leans back in his chair.

Something doesn’t add up.

“Everyone talks about how you’re this powerful overlord, yet you lock yourself up in this tower all day and night. They all talk about how you were always around and ever since me you’re nowhere to be found.”

“I’d watch your mouth, little doe.” He snarls, but doesn’t move from his chair.

You stand, and for once you’re just taller than him even when he’s sitting down. Stories you’ve heard, the things the other residents say about him - nothing is adding up. Angel even went out of his way to ask what the fuck you did to him to act like this.

“I can’t help but think that you’re trying to avoid me. Are you scared of me or something? Or do you just like to see me do all of your bitch work so you don’t have to look at me?”

“And why,” Alastor stands, towering over you. You never realized how much taller and broader he is compared to you. His entire frame engulfs your size. “Would I be scared of a pathetic, weak sinner who died so easily doing something so reckless and ended up here?”

A beat, “I’d go far as to say you’re forgettable in this cesspool. Why would I go out of my way to avoid that?” He hums, lowering to your level at the waist. You want to punch that smug smile on his face.

You ball your fists and keep his eye contact. You scrunch up your nose and grind out every word with anger, “That’s hilarious coming from someone who did the same. Not so different, you and I.”

You didn’t care enough to see his expression before turning on your heel and head straight to your room.

Sinking onto your bed, you throw your head between your hands with a groan.

Asshole. Fucking asshole.

It doesn't take long before a presence in front of you lingers, and a warm caress slithers over your cheek.

“Not now, Umrba. I’m not in the mood.”

Umbra’s smokey hand tugs gently at your arm, pulling it forward and causing your head to droop. You allow him to pull you up and into an embrace.

Scents of whiskey, soap and lemongrass once again fill your head. A lovely haze that you’ve come to cherish. A friend.

A comfort.

A beautiful melody fills the air, and swallows you whole. Umbra’s body shakes with a staticy old tune.

“I’ll never smile again, until I smile at you” The voices sing a beautiful sorrowful melody, filling the air. Umbra’s arms skate over you and places his hands in yours.

The stance of a dance.

Umbra guides your one arm over his back, there he rests the other around your waist. A close embrace that you happily welcome.

“For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize…”

Guiding your hips in a gentle sway, you rest your cheek on his torso. The both of you sway to the melody slowly in your dimly lit room.

And, like always, the shadow doesn’t say a word. And maybe you like it that way. With all the chaos pounding loudly in your head, Umbra can always grant you the safe space you need. No judgment, no games.

No words.

Umbra pulls you around in a dizzying spin on your toes, earning a giggle from you. The music crescendos softly.

“I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you…”

Guiding you around your room, you follow his lead. Wisps of smoke trail after him and curl at the bottom of your feet. Warmth is all you can feel.

You’re picked up swiftly and spun like a child before being placed softly in your bed. Umbra continues to play the melody until you are cast away in blissful sleep.

“Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again, until I smile at you.”

taglist : @hazbinsimp777 @rapturenyx @kaytemchugh

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor #alastor x reader smut #alastor hazbin hotel

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whateversawesome · 12 hours

Text

Spy x Family Chapter 97: An Old Love Story

Okay, say it with me: FOIL!

You can see it too, right? Looks like Martha x Henry (Henderson)'s story is a foil of Twilight and Yor's story.

Henderson was in Twilight's place; the smart, lonely young man so focused on his ideals that he was blind about who was in front of him and his very own feelings.

Martha was in Yor's place, the strong and graceful girl too young and inexperienced to know her own heart and that she was in love.

This is exactly what's happening with Twiyor, the main couple of the story, and I think we may get to see one of the possible endings for our beloved Twiyor through Martha and Henderson story.

Now, what do we know about these two 🤔...

We know that Henry Henderson has a daughter and a son-in-law. It was mentioned he writes to them, but there was no mention of his wife. This leads me to believe that:

His wife is no longer alive.

He lives with his wife, so there's no reason for him to write to her.

He is divorced.

So, with this information we still can't know what's the current relationship between Martha and Henry, but we can take a guess 😉

From the way the story is being told, it almost feels like it's a semi-tragic love story, doesn't it? We can almost assume that they didn't end up together...or did they?

Theory one: Yup, everyone is right and Martha and Henderson eventually went their separate ways for reasons we'll probably get to know in the next couple of chapters.

If this theory is right, I think it's beautiful that they are getting a second chance 💖They certainly look more mature, confident, and calm (also elegant!). I love the way they look at each other, so much trust and love 😌

Theory two: I know this one is a long shot (and Henderson just said in that panel that "She is merely and old friend") but maybe...they're actually married. Why am I so bold to even consider that possibility?! Well, there's this panel:

The matron is clearly teasing Master Henderson, don't you agree? If she does it, it's because she knows something. Either she knows that there was something between those two in their youth or she knows they are married. I don't know, but they way she said the word "partner" and the fact that Master Henderson is married made me think that Martha is his wife. I know, I know...it's a remote possibility, but you have to remember that marriage is mentioned a lot through different characters and couples during the story, so maybe those two were actually married. (But, it's quite possible it's theory one).

Other things to consider...

How long have Ostania and Westalis been at war?

My guess is that we're talking about two different wars between the same countries; very much like WWI and WWII, where there was a brief period of peace before a second conflict. So, probably the first war started while Henderson was in his 20s and the second war started when he was in his 40s (and Twilight was a kid).

It makes a lot of sense that now they're in a period of "Cold War", just like in real life.

The Garden

I am convinced that the Garden is involved in this. I've talked about this before (read it here). After this chapter, I still think the Garden is going to pop up. Want some evidence?

Do you recognize this guy?

That's right 😏 That's Matthew McMahon. What is he doing there? Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?

And also the way this is phrased:

Odd that there was a mention of the word Garden, isn't it? And the fact that the whole story between those two takes place in a garden...🤔

In addition to that, in a previous chapter, Twilight observes how Martha moves like a soldier. Franky mentioned earlier that Garden people are like soldiers. And the Garden has a history of recruiting young skilled/strong people, like Yor. Things keep adding up.

The Consequences of War

This is a prevalent theme throughout the whole SxF universe: how war (violence, intolerance, manipulation of information, propaganda, politics) has affected the life of all the characters.

No matter their background, nationality or education, we've seen it again and again with most of the characters big or small, like Twilight, Franky, Sylvia, Millie, and now we're about to see it with characters from an older generation like Martha and Henderson.

My guess is that this won't be the last time and this pattern will continue while the story lasts. I think what the story is trying to show us is how war is seen by some (politicians and men in power like Desmond) as a natural, inevitable course of action, but at the same time how brutal the consequences are in the smallest stories. That's one of the things that is truly remarkable about SxF.

#spy x family #twiyor #sxf #spy x family manga #spy x family analysis #spy x family theory #sxf chapter 97 #spy x family chapter 97 #martha marriott #henry henderson #loid forger #yor forger #spy x family meta

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scarlethexelove · 3 days

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can you please write Y/N and Wanda also Natasha is not dead here (up to you thooooo) , and Y/N pretty much replaced Vision. But before these events Natasha has always been there for Wanda, (after Endgame) so she didn’t make a hex but still griefed about Y/N and Wanda making a big move for Y/N’s reincarnation but in a good way. After Y/N being back from the dead. She learns that her soon to be wife has already fallen for Natasha and her reincarnation just meant nothing and Y/N didn’t go on with her life and ended it just there.

Wands regretted everything until she lost herself and made a big mess with the universe (pretty much MoM) and overall Wanda regretting everything, and when she gets us back (it can be Wanda taking another one of us in an another universe) or her just making us alive from the dead *this all can be up to you author*

I love your stories 🖤

I'm Sorry

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3590

Warnings: Cheating (Allusions to it but really it is there), Angst, Major character death, Mentions of Murdering innocent people, Angry Wanda, Suicide by others, Not really a happy ending, tiny bit of fluff like very little.

A/n: This one was fun. I hope I did it justice. I may have changed a little bit of it but I hope you still like it.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Everything hurts. You have a splitting headache and it feels like you got run over by a MACK truck. Your face scrunches up in pain, the lights too bright even with your eyes closed. Sensory overload has you curling in on yourself. Hands come up to clamp on your ears when you hear a voice, but it’s so loud and muffled that you don’t even know who is talking to you. All you want is for all of it to stop. You had been an experiment but that experience doesn’t compare to what you are feeling right now.

“Nat turn the lights off.” Wanda orders the older woman in the room. Nat flicks the light off as she watches Wanda brush some hairs back. You let out a whimper at the contact. It breaks her heart seeing you like this. When her hand brushes against your skin she can feel you. She feels your pain. Red whisps leave her fingers slowly seeping into your skin. Soon enough the pain starts to dissipate.

Wanda crawls in the bed behind you wrapping herself around your frame. You feel a body pressed against yours and you immediately know who it is. “Wanda.” You whisper. You turn around in her hold and nuzzle into her neck. “I’m here sweetheart.” Wanda combs her fingers through your hair. You're so tired and she feels like home. You fight to stay awake but her ministrations have your eyes closing. “It’s ok detka get some rest.” Wanda whispers and kisses the top of your head. You finally let yourself drift off to sleep.

A little over 5 years ago the team was fighting Thanos. Your powers let you see brief points into the future. You saw that if you died that Wanda would be safe. Thanos needed you gone to get what he wants but you also saw that in the end the Avengers would win. The event that sets that in motion was your death. So as much as it pained you you let it happen. To save Wanda, to save the world. Wanda could move on but the fate of the universe was in your hands.

“Wanda.” Nat says softly from the corner of the room. She looks at you curled into Wanda’s arms. A sight she had hoped to never see again. “Natty, she needs this.” Wanda says softly, still stroking your hair as you sleep. Nat just nods. It hurts but she knows it is something that Wanda had to do.

Your mind races. Your dreams are of your last memories. The fight with Thanos and how you let him kill you just in order to save everyone else. Your body shoots straight up as your chest heaves from the memories. You feel a hand rubbing up and down your back but you haven’t quite gained control. You mind questioning how you are here. Why are you alive? You should be dead. That was all your mind could see and you had accepted that fact but here you are. Tears stream down your face. “Why?” You're not sure what you are asking, who you are asking the question of. You feel so small. “Why what detka?” Wanda asks you with concern on her face. “Why am I here? I should be dead.” Your voice breaks and Wanda’s heart hurts seeing you like this.

Wanda starts explaining everything that had happened while you were gone. Excluding some details. They had worked tirelessly to bring back those that were snapped away. Wanda and Nat become the de facto leaders of the Avengers. It took 5 years but they finally did. Once that was done they set out to bring you back. It took some time but somehow when Bruce had snapped his fingers he was able to bring you back. But somehow you ended up in a pocket universe in a deep sleep. They were finally able to get you back safely. All the information flooding into your mind is a lot to handle but eventually you understand. Somehow the universe had different plans for you.

It’s been a few months since you came back. Most things are the same but something seems off. Wanda hasn’t been as loving towards you. Before she was always so touchy and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the sheets cuddling while watching some sitcoms. But now she barely even gives you a hug. Sleeping in the same bed has you feeling like she isn’t even there. She is a million miles away even if she is only right beside you. Your heart hurts not understanding, is she still mad at you for letting Thanos kill you. Anytime you try to talk to her she just brushes you off and says nothing is wrong. So you're left alone to your thoughts and worries.

Nat had moved into your shared home while you were away. The two women grew closer at the loss of so many others. You want to be angry and jealous that Nat gets more attention than you but you still trust Wanda hoping that she will come around eventually.

You’re walking towards the kitchen when you can hear a hushed discussion between Wanda and Nat. You stop just shy of the door frame listening in when you hear your name mentioned. “Wanda you need to tell Y/n.” Nat says her body leaning on the counter and arms crossed against her chest. “Tell her what Nat?” Wanda counters. She sits at the table with a sad look adorning her face. “You know what Wands.” Wanda lets out a sigh. “I can’t do that to her Nat.” Wanda’s voice is low. “You can’t keep lying to her. You can’t keep lying to me. I love you Wanda.” There is a pause in the conversation before Wanda speaks up. “I love you too.” Your heart drops the moment the words spill from Wanda’s mouth.

You’re quick to turn on your heels as the tears start to stream down your face. Holding in a sob as it all makes sense now. In your absence the two had fallen in love. You’ve somehow become the other woman in Wanda’s life. You don’t know how you didn’t see this coming. Your powers should have felt this but they hadn’t and now you’re left heartbroken. You push into your shared room focusing on pulling yourself back together. You can’t let them know that you know until you figure out what to do.

The buzzing of your phone pulls you out of your despair for the moment. You see Fury’s name flash on the screen. You quickly wipe your tears and answer the phone. “Sir.” You say masking the waver in your voice. “Y/l/n I have a mission for you. Since you have been cleared for duty I would like you to head out tonight with Barton and Barnes. I have sent over the reports for you to go over. Good luck out there and glad to have you back.” The phone line goes dead as the man hangs up the phone. You open the report sent to your phone. You now see the flashes in your mind of how the mission will go. And that is where you see it. What you’re going to do.

That night you enter the Quinjet greeted by the two men. Hugs and joy at your return. Your powers are always a significant help to missions. You three go over the plans for the mission. You lay out what you had seen in your vision, excluding one crucial part that the men don’t need to know. You know if they did they would try and stop you. But your heart aches and you put on a fake smile so that no one would expect a thing.

Everything was set to go. A long message meant to play for Wanda after it was already too late. This would be your last mission. Wanda and Nat would have all that they could ever want. You wouldn’t be the burden that you know you are. They should have just left you dead if they were going to do this to you. So you made that decision for them. You weren’t going to come back from this mission alive.

The mission was going perfectly. Playing out exactly as you had seen it. Bucky and Clint were together and far away from you. You snuck into the building off the side. It held some hostages that had been taken by Hydra. You snuck in taking out every agent that you passed. It didn’t take long for you to make it to the hostages. You were able to release them from their binds and get them out of the building safely. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. Bucky and Clint were waiting exactly where you told them too. Having each hostage run towards them for safety while you stood with your back towards the open area.

You waited knowing what was to come soon. You could change the outcome but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be in a world where Wanda loved someone else. You waited with bated breath as the last hostage ran towards your teammates. You exhale the air in your lungs before a sharp pain in your stomach is felt. You grit your teeth turning around firing off a few rounds, but you're hit with another round to the shoulder. You can hear the muffled sounds of Bucky and Clint calling out for you but you push through. Another shot to the leg sends you kneeling on the ground. You push through the pain as you stand. A few steps forward as you unload your mag into the man. Another man appears with his finger on the trigger of his gun. You watch as an arrow sores through the air and hits the man directly in the chest. His finger squeezes the trigger as he falls. You’re hit with the array of bullets. Your body sways before falling to your knees then falling to the ground. The ground below you stains red as your body goes cold.

Wanda felt a change in the universe. She cries out causing Nat to panic next to her. Wanda clutches her chest in pain. She felt this twice before. Once when Pietro died, the second when you died fighting Thanos. She had never wanted to feel that pain again but here she is feeling it. The world stops turning at that moment. Not again she thinks tears streaming down her face.

The doorbell rings but Wanda doesn’t hear it. Nat tries to console the younger woman pleading for her to tell her what is going on. It continues to ring when no one answers until Nat gets up and finds out what is going on. Wanda sits sobbing on the couch. Nat walks back in with a folded paper with your hand writing on it. Wanda scribbled on the top.

Wanda sees this snatching the paper from her hands and quickly opening it before reading the words delicately written across the page.

My dearest Wanda,

You’re reading this because I’m gone. I’m sorry to do this to you

but I can’t live life like this. I know that you no longer love me.

I see the way you look at Natasha and I know she is now

the love of your life. I want you to be happy. I saw this coming

and I could have changed it but who am I to keep you from the

one you love. Don’t mourn for me, just live your life. You don’t

have to worry about me anymore and you can be happy, that

is all I have ever wanted for you. But my love I can’t live in

a world where you love someone else. So this is goodbye.

Love,

Y/N

Tears hit the paper blurring the words in front of her. Wanda’s heart shatters into a million pieces. How could this have happened? How could she have thrown away all that you two have? She is absolutely disgusted with herself and with Nat. This isn’t how it was supposed to go but she was blinded and now her eyes are finally open but now it could be too late.

Through the tears Wanda gets up making her way out the door and immediately taking off towards the compound. Her magic lifts her into the sky as she flies as fast as she possibly can to the one place she knows you would be. Praying that maybe it was all wrong, maybe you can be saved. Nat calls out for her as she leaves her alone standing in the yard.

The ground cracks below Wanda’s feet as she lands hard on the ground. Anger and guilt pumping through her veins as she walks towards the building. Her magic slamming doors open as she makes her way to the med bay. Your body is already lying there. Bucky and Clint talking outside the room. Windows lining the wall as they keep looking back at your body. Wondering what they would tell the angry redhead but they didn’t have to wait too long. They spot Wanda fear and sorrow on their faces. “Wanda we can -” Clint is cut off. “Save it.”

Wanda makes her way into the room. The boys walked away looking like kicked puppies. Wanda’s breath picks up as she sees your still body encased in a black bag. The top half of it unzipped revealing your pale skin and blood staining your suit. You look so peaceful like you could be sleeping. Wanda cups your cheek, a light jerk of her hand when she feels how cold you are. She lets her magic slip out the ends of her fingers going into your head. Fresh tears streaming down her face. “I can’t feel you.” A sob wracking her body. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry love you never deserved any of this.”

Wanda silently sobs as she sits next to you. Your hand in hers as she just stares blankly at your body. The door clicks open a while later. Wanda doesn’t turn to look. “Go away.” Her voice is hoarse from all the crying but she doesn’t care. “Wands.” Nat whispers. “I said leave.” Wanda’s voice raises as her head snaps towards the door red swirling in her eyes. Nat knows she is just upset so she doesn’t back down. “Detka.” She whispers. “Don’t you dare detka me.” Wanda stands letting your hand drop off the side of the bed. “This is all your fault. She is fucking dead because of you.” Wanda seethes. “Don’t put that blame on me Wanda. You're just as much the problem.” Wanda stalks towards Nat red surrounding her body and slamming her into the window, a crack forming behind her body. “Don’t you fucking dare blame me. It should have been you. You should have died back then. I would still have her. She is more of a woman than you will ever be. I let myself be blinded by you. Blinded by the love you gave but I didn’t love you. I don’t fucking love you.” As hard as Nat can be, Wanda's words cut deep. Tears shine in her eyes as she holds back a sob. Wanda sends Nat’s body flying through walls until she lands outside. Wanda follows as she does so. Releasing Nat’s body which is now battered and bruised. She then flies off into the night.

It’s been months since anyone has seen Wanda, held up in a small cabin in the middle of nowhere surrounded by mountains. Some have tried but they always get blasted out so they stopped trying. She has been lost to the Avengers and they aren’t sure they could ever get her back. The day they lost you they also lost her.

Wanda’s black tipped fingers comb through a book. A very dangerous book. The more she searches the darkness in her soul grows and the blacked tips grow. She has tried everything in the book to bring you back to life but none of it works. She had another attempt today, something new, something hopeful but it ends with a magical outburst throwing everything in the cabin. She continues to comb through the pages ignoring the disarray around her. She closes her eyes and lets her magic do the work. It’s not long before she finds something new. She thought she had seen all that this book had to offer. All that the Darkhold had to offer to the Scarlet Witch.

You are sitting in your living room, two small boys cuddled into each of your sides as you watch a movie. Empty bowls of ice cream sitting on the coffee table that you have your feet propped up on. You laugh as your son Tommy tries to mimic you. You other son Billy giggling along. Tommy huffs and crosses his arms. “Not funny.” He mumbles. You can’t help but ruffle his hair which makes him swat at your hand causing you to chuckle. “One day buddy you will reach it.” You kiss the top of his head. All of you falling back into the silence, the only sound is the movie playing.

Your mind flashes to a vision of Wanda but not your Wanda standing in the middle of your living room. Her face twisted into something you can’t even imagine in your wildest dreams from the woman you loved. The pain that she has caused to get to this point. As your world comes back to you you are met with a star shaped portal in the middle of your living room. What was once an image in your head now in front of you.

Wanda’s hand wraps around the young girl's throat in front of you. “What did you do?” She seethes. The two boys next to you are terrified. You quickly stand and tell them to run but Wanda’s head snaps towards you. The couch you were once on is now thrown at the stairs blocking the way. You push your boys behind you in a protective manner. Wanda’s eyes trailing the boys curiously, a small warm spot forming in her heart seeing your protective nature. She didn’t expect to find you with kids but she always wanted a family with you so it can’t hurt.

“Wanda!” You yell at her. Wanda is startled by the anger in your voice. You have never yelled at her like that. “Let the girl go.” You demand of her. Her hand slips from the girl's neck as she coughs on the ground holding her throat. Wanda starts stalking towards you but you back up with your boys behind you.

Billy tugs on your shirt a little trying to get your attention and you quickly look back at him. “Is that Mama?” His voice sounds so small. Your attention quickly turns back to the woman in front of you who has stopped. You can see tears in her eyes at Billy’s words. “That is not your Mama.” You shake your head. You can see the hurt on Wanda’s face as she gets closer to you. “I can be.” She says a crack in her voice.

You start to walk towards the woman but your boys try to stop you. You motion that you will be ok as you stand in front of Wanda. “You could never be my Wanda.” She falls to her knees, her hand on her chest as she looks up at you. “I can see your hurt and your pain but you have caused so much more and for what.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I did it for you.” She whispers. “I would never want you to do this for me. Wanda you murdered people. Good people.” Wanda stands back up and moves towards you, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You back up away from her touch. “I wanted you back.” You scoff and shake your head. “After seeing what you did I could never want you. I miss my Wanda but you are not her and could never be.”

Wanda’s face twists in anger. You try to back up again but she is quicker this time. She grabs your wrist in her hands. “Wanda that hurts.” You whimper as she digs her nails in. “Too bad. I’ll make you love me just you see. Now that I have you back I will never let you go again.” There is a panic that rises in you. “We will have the perfect little family.” She looks behind you. “Won’t we boys?” They are too scared to say or do anything just holding onto each other for comfort.

Wanda keeps one hand on you as she turns around. Her wrist flicking as America is thrown back through the portal. It dissipates from the middle of the room before she turns back to you. You struggle to get free but she is stronger than you remember. She clicks her tongue and looks at you, her hand finally reaching to cup your cheek. Red whisps leave her fingers as they sink into your mind. “All mine now.” She replaces every memory and thought of your Wanda with her. Changes the fear to love. You’re hers now and no one will change that. Her magic soon flowed into the boys having the perfect little family. She would tear the world in two to keep you and the boys forever.

#syd answers #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader angst

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sepublic · 3 days

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Alright, let's talk about some details from the TOH pitch bible;

A lot of the stuff is what we've already seen and/or in line with the show. What's interesting is that King WAS a former King of Demons at one point, and we would've had an episode where he runs into his old gang and chooses Luz and Eda over them. It makes me wonder if he even had a connection to the Titan in earlier drafts, if he wasn't recognized as one back in the day because he just wasn't big enough, etc. Eda makes a deal to help remove the collar, which IS the source of King's woes, placed by a 'mysterious wizard', I wouldn't be surprised if it was Obron AKA Proto-Belos.

What gets me is that Tibbles originally started off as a friend to the protagonists, while Bump was an antagonist! Coupled with Tibbles being re-elected as mayor after Bump is deposed for corruption. I like the detail of Bump being a parasite controlling a body from the head, because it carried over into his final design with Frewin, and before we got confirmation Frewin was a separate entity, I loved the joke theory that the imp on Bump's head was the REAL Bump!!! Seems that was always the implied story of the design, I love it. Tibbles being the demon fan of human stuff would eventually become Gus instead, so this is technically Proto-Gus too…?

Interesting how Bump and Tibbles' alignments switch completely with one another, and it makes sense that with Lilith no longer the principal in the final draft, it goes to Bump, who ends up being really chill and a subversion in his own right! Interesting, but I do prefer the final Bump we got, and that's fine by me, because when the concepts aren't as interesting as the final product, it means we got the best possible version.

I've already discussed Obron and William in a separate post, and Pupa is someone we've been told about in a previous livestream. Lilith would've been both head of all covens (and not just the Emperor's Coven) AND principal at the same time, and she seems much more of a jerk to Eda in general; She has no qualms with cursing Eda because of a direct order from Obron.

Apparently the curse would've been an AGING spell, which settles my questions on how it would've been portrayed in earlier drafts! This goes along with Eda's older look. Likewise, there would've been a subplot of Eda considering Luz's sacrifice as a way to restore her youth, which likely goes hand in hand with Obron's orders to bring Luz to her, etc. The 'Bloom of Eternal Youth' quest, which Eda and Lilith go through together as their sisterly relationship is explored, feels like a carryover from this past idea.

I think I prefer the final draft; I like that the curse isn't just aging Eda, but also takes away her magic, makes her turn into a beast, etc. I like Lilith being a lot more complicated in her relationship with Eda, instead of just hating her and cursing her without hesitation. The redefining of the curse makes it less about age, and more a chronic illness metaphor, and I like how Eda in the final draft is upfront about having to learn to live with it, deal with it, on her own terms. She isn't trying to find a cure (although Lilith being promised one by Obron feels like a carryover of Eda's moral dilemma with Luz), and that adds another nice dimension to her conflict with Lilith, as well as Gwen. It's pretty frank in its own right about normalizing disability, and those who play an antagonistic role (however brief) are the real weirdoes for making such a fuss about it.

The Bat Queen would've had more of a recurring role based on the description, which saddens me; I always got the vibe she was planned for more, but between all of the other stuff the show had to juggle, plus the shortening, she ended up getting shafted despite being one of the earlier characters. Sashley, Pasha, and Bruno are also interesting, with Pasha in particular giving me freaking Philip Wittebane vibes with his grossness, beard, and anti-demon attitude; He even starts off as a potential friend to Luz because fellow human, only for his true bigotry to show. Makes me wonder if Philip ended up incorporating Pasha, we also have bodily transformation because of consuming magical stuff... P-names.

(Also, I like how in the drawing of typical Demon Realm denizens, I can see an eye demon who resembles a past drawing of Dana's!!!)

Eda was actually a late bloomer, which creates a parallel with Luz in one way, and their relationship is referred to as sisterly (in the final draft it’s explicitly maternal). So Eda wouldn't have been the talented youth, in fact things may have switched between her and Lilith; Lilith's disdain may have partially come from Eda not being as innately talented as her.

Luz and Amity's dynamic seems like it would've had Amity retain a lot of her more stand-offish, pragmatic personality even as a friend with Luz, and this would've come up more; So basically, she'd remain more like S1 Amity. That, or this part of their relationship would've lasted longer, and then we would've seen character development as Amity unlearns a lot of the issues her parents passed on. I also wonder if the Willow who cameos in the pilot was originally supposed to just be an extra separate from ‘Paulina’, but then they combined the two together.

The themes are exactly as I expected, glad to see they're still there, nothing changed! Luz becoming a witch and defying all odds to do so, putting in real work and passion. Celebrating individuality amidst conformity, plus Luz trying to impose her own fictional tropes onto the world, only to have to put that aside... Just like Wing it like Witches. It seems Amity would've had more involvement with Luz's journey to become a witch, though we still do have a carryover of that disconnect with her rant near the end of Covention.

I love the Demon Realm being situated BELOW the Human Realm, way to be subtle about being Hell you guys lol... Apparently portals to the human world are a lot rarer to find and use, which makes me wonder if the pilot's 'dimension port' doesn't have access to the human world; Meaning Amity is Luz's only way back, so her improved relationship with her is linked to getting back home. There's a gag about the Knee having service with the human world, but I can see how that didn't make the cut, for dramatic purposes; It seems like the premise for a S1 episode or at least a B-plot. Would Luz have struggled to communicate with Camila through this, or would her search for wi-fi be for mundane reasons?

Apparently Luz's magic would've required a lot more steps to complete, and I see why the show simplified things down to just glyphs. I wonder if there was always going to be the connection of glyphs as a gift from the Titan, or if the Titan and her story was going to be less intertwined in the overall narrative. There also don't seem to be nine main covens, just the many, many covens, some of which are pretty ridiculous, and Covention's sub-covens seem a callback to that.

Luz's first spell would've been levitation, and THEN she would've infiltrated Hexside, with Amity being a lot subtler about exposing Luz, though in the final draft she does figure that out as the way to go in I was a Teenage Abomination. Yeah, I prefer Light being her original spell, feels so much more symbolic and personal, etc. I wonder if the Titan is even as much of a character in early drafts, and if there's still the whole connection/relationship with the land and learning to respect it aspect. Some of these hypothetical episodes push the idea of Amity as a more episodic, typical popular kid antagonist, though in the final draft, the show goes through her character development and explores Amity's romantic relationship with Luz and its complications.

It seems the idea of the Mirror Ghost was split into Adegast and Vee, with Adegast being the one who offers the easier narrative for Luz to believe in about becoming a witch (only to be a fraud who uses uncanny puppets), and Vee being a doppelganger whom Luz communicates through with mirrors. Interesting how Yesterday's Lie was born from this. We saw the test animation from Spencer Wan for TOH, so I guess we know what Luz's puppet-doppelganger is called! And we can safely call her Proto-Vee. I wonder if she also would've been a sympathetic character, I always thought she reminded me of Lake from Infinity Train (and speculated her to be as such since Enchanting Grom Fright), and now the similarities are even MORE apparent!

Alas, The Good Witch Azura, or 'The Unassuming Princess' seems like it'd have been a lot less dear to Luz's heart, as the pilot also reflects; In the end, it turns out the author is just Eda's ex using her adventures as basis, and including private information. I remember when I once speculated that Raine, before we saw their face, would've been just like this as the author of Azura... Again, I think I prefer Azura as being a lot less mean-spirited in the final draft, and instead a celebration of who Luz is as a person, her relationship with fantasy and fiction, etc. We also would've had a Luz birthday party, the Quincenera we've been hoping for since S1...! In the final draft (and episode) we still get that Human-Demon Realm disconnect, though by that point, Luz is much more attuned and chill with the isles.

There’s definitely more of an episodic, sitcom feel to this pitch bible, especially when you compare Proto-Yesterday’s Lie to its final version. Makes sense, Dana is pitching this to Disney executives, though her statement on Understanding Willow feeling truly like her show makes me wonder if she always intended to push TOH in that more serious, emotional route we got.

#the owl house #the owl house pilot #king clawthorne #principal bump #hieronymous bump #luz noceda #the owl house tibbles #lilith clawthorne #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #amity blight #lumity #boiling isles #analysis #the good witch azura #meta #speculation

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hungermakesmonsters · 3 days

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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : M - frisky but not entirely smutty

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some friskiness and a mention of a self-inflicted cut. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 4.8k

A/N : Keeping with my tradition of Billy going a little feral in the third chapter. Also a tumblr bug keeps messing up my tag lists.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Three

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning, playing that moment over and over in your mind; the way his dark eyes had seemed to look right through you, the way his cold hand had felt on your neck over your racing pulse. Just thinking about it caused your body to heat and your cheeks to burn with shame.

What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away?

What would you have let happen?

Fingers gripped the fabric of your satin pyjamas, your hand anchoring itself as you resisted the urge to relieve the gentle throb that still lingered between your thighs.

What had he done to you?

Had he done anything at all?

You weren’t sure. You’d heard stories of vampires seducing people, bending them to their wills but, honestly, it hadn’t felt like that. And if it had been that, why had he pulled away? No, you’d been annoyed with him, you’d wanted to show him that you weren’t some silly naive child who didn’t know what she was doing, only it had backfired.

Eventually sleep claimed you, his words echoing in your mind as you drifted off; ‘like sunlight and innocence, sweet, like warm honey.’

Five hours later, your alarm startled you awake. You felt exhausted but sleep had cleared your head enough to let you think more objectively and to help you realise that you’d been a little ridiculous. His touch had caught you off-guard but he hadn’t done anything to you beyond that and, if anything, you’d been the one thinking about him kissing you. You were the one who had wanted him to kiss you.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to go a little stir-crazy trapped in the penthouse, and Billy was - well, he was just about the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he annoyed you with the smug way he looked at you and the way he spoke to you like he didn’t think you really understood the world that you’d found yourself in, he’d been kind so far. At least, kinder than any employer needed to be to their employee.

In a moment of silliness, you’d allowed yourself to view that kindness as something more, you’d allowed yourself to engage in some ridiculous fantasy that he might kiss you, might want you, when all he’d really done was try to keep you company.

And Lissa had warned you of the effect that your embarrassment could have on vampires. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how your racing heart must have made him feel.

After getting out of bed, you tried to go about your day as usual, trying not to think about the night before but, instead, thinking of ways to avoid it in future. It didn’t take long for you to realise that the only thing that was going to stop you from going stir-crazy was going outside, being able to leave the penthouse for a few hours. You didn’t know what you’d do or where you’d go, but you were certain that it would help.

But you’d need permission to go outside, and that meant you were going to have to ask Billy.

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed - of course he’d agree, why wouldn’t he? Your job was to provide blood, and all that really took was ten to twenty minutes of your day. As long as there was something waiting for him in the fridge every day, did it really matter where you’d been?

Of course, you understood that there were other rules, things you’d have to remember; only eating food from the approved list (though, once you started thinking about that you weren’t sure why that was so important), no sex (something you were embarrassingly used to), and not letting any other vampires feed from you (which you had no intention of doing regardless of Mr Russo’s rules). The point was that you could stick to his rules just as easily out of the penthouse as you could inside of it so, to your mind at least, there really was no reason for him to refuse to give you permission to go out.

You distracted yourself by doing some baking, paying more attention to the approved food list than you had since arriving. Maybe you’d ask Billy about it, get him to explain why you weren’t allowed to eat certain things. For one little cynical moment, it almost felt like he wanted to control every aspect of your life, even though your job didn’t require it.

Once you’d had dinner, you decided to remain in your rooms, distracting yourself with Netflix for an hour or so before it was time to draw blood and take it out ready for Billy.

You stepped out of your quarters just as he was emerging from his rooms. For a second he seemed almost shocked that you weren’t in your usual place on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to dwell on the thought. Instead his eyes dropped to the blood in your hand.

“Excellent timing,” he said with a grin, heading towards the kitchen.

For a second you hesitated, not saying a word when you finally made your way towards him, watching his back as he pulled an insulated travel mug from a cupboard.

Was going to take your blood with him? Was he going to walk the streets of New York sipping your blood like it was his venti cappuccino from Starbucks? The thought unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you placed the bottle down on the counter beside him and took a step back.

“Did you not watch the sunset tonight?” He asked, his attention momentarily turning to you. You shook your head and mumbled something about being tired. If he cared, he didn’t let it show, quickly turning his attention back to your blood. “Still warm,” he remarked quietly, running his teeth over his lower lip as he poured it into his travel mug.

A memory from the night before came back to you, completely unbidden; the sound he’d made, that gentle almost-moan from the back of his throat. Your blood had still been warm then too - was that how he preferred it? Did it remind him of drinking from a person rather than a glass? You shook your head, trying to force that thought away.

“I -” you opened your mouth and the word just tumbled out.

Billy turned back to you, pressing the lid onto the mug in his hand. He waited a beat before prompting you to continue; “yes?”

“I -” you started again, your cheeks warming and your heart beating a little fast. The way his eyes narrowed a little told you that he could hear it, and that just made you feel worse. “I was wondering if I could have permission to go outside tomorrow.”

“Oh,” that single syllable making your request sound banal and trivial. He regarded you for a moment. “No, not to tomorrow,” he decided, but before you could open your mouth to respond, he continued; “we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

“But, I -” you started but stopped the moment he let out an irritated sigh.

“Are you not happy here? Would you like to terminate your contract?” He asked, as if you’d been asking him for far more than just a few hours outside.

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, again feeling so small in front of him, “It’s just... lonely being on my own all the time, and being cooped up indoors is -”

“I said we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

You fell silent, gaze dropping to the floor as he walked away from you, heading towards the elevator. Once he was inside and the door had shut, you kicked the nearest kitchen unit in frustration, achieving nothing but hurting your bare foot.

Storming back to your room, you felt - you felt like a child, like you’d been refused permission to play outside with your friends. It felt like you’d just been grounded, even though you’d done nothing wrong.

But you weren’t a child, you were an adult, and he had no right to make you feel so small and pathetic.

You paced your room in anger, feeling claustrophobic, like you’d never get to leave. He’d make you spend a whole year trapped indoors just because he could. It felt like you’d traded one prison for another by coming to New York, by taking this job. But, if you left now, where would you go?

As much as you wanted to call Lissa and tell her you wanted your things so you could leave, you had no money and nowhere to go but home, and that fate seemed far worse than this one.

Despite feeling tired, you spent another restless night before sleep claimed you, and you woke with a headache that followed you for the rest of the day. You felt listless and, for the first time since arriving, you didn’t want to follow the schedule that you’d created for yourself; you didn’t take a walk on the treadmill, didn’t visit the library to listen to music or read, you could barely even bring yourself to eat beyond some toast for breakfast and noodles for dinner.

He said you could talk about being allowed out that evening but, the longer you were left with that thought, the more you managed to convince yourself that he’d just say no. So, you decided to save him the effort of the conversation. You drew blood early, long before you expected him to emerge from his rooms, and placed it in the refrigerator for him before returning to your bedroom and locking the door.

You spent the rest of the evening just like you’d spent the day; in your pyjamas watching crappy cartoons on Netflix, trying not to think about how you were going to survive a whole year of this when you hadn’t even managed to make it to two weeks before starting to come apart at the seams.

It was easy to lose track of time and fall asleep on the sofa in your room only to wake up a few hours later, uncomfortable and cold. You eventually went to bed, not bothering to set an alarm for the next morning, laying in until some time after midday.

The extra sleep didn’t help matters and, somehow, you still felt exhausted. Something else you decided to blame on being stuck indoors.

You forced yourself to shower and wash your hair before putting on some clean clothes, hoping that it would make you feel a little bit better about yourself. It did, but you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favours by not eating much the day before. You tried to make up for it by cooking yourself a proper meal for dinner.

Drawing blood left you feeling sick but you decided to get it over and done with early, so you could crawl back into bed, but you should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, you were surprised to find him out there, sitting on the sofa, hours before sunset. You faltered, thinking about turning back, but you had blood for him. He didn’t even have to look to realise you were there.

“I must have missed you last night,” he said, finally turning to look at you, ignoring your obvious uncertainty. “Or were you avoiding me?”

“I thought my job was to provide you with blood, not be your friend,” you answered sharply, heading towards the kitchen, wanting to get the moment over and done with as quickly as possible.

“You’re upset with me?” When the question was left unanswered, he got to his feet and followed you to the kitchen. “Is this because I wouldn’t give you permission to go out?”

You didn’t even look at him as you placed the blood in the fridge and turned to head back to your room. But he wasn’t going to let you walk away. He stepped in front of you, blocking you, his cold hand beneath your chin urging you to look at him.

“I can’t fix whatever this is if you don’t explain it to me,” he told you, hand lingering beneath your chin, making sure you didn’t look away.

Standing in front of him like this, you finally got a true appreciation of his height and just how much he towered over you.

“You told me that I have power in this arrangement,” you spoke around the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It doesn’t feel like I do.”

“You do, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“Then why can’t I go out? Why is it such a big deal for me to go to a coffee shop or a museum for a couple of hours?” You asked, trying to ignore the cold, light touch of his fingers. “Why do I even need permission?”

“Because it isn’t safe,” Billy stated flatly. “For either of us.”

You weren’t sure what explanation you’d been expecting him to offer, but that certainly hadn’t been it.

“What do you mean?” Your confusion written across your face.

“I thought you understood what you were getting into when you took this job,” Billy sighed, his hand finally dropping back to his side

“I -” your gaze dropped again but only for a moment, “- I thought I did too.”

As much as it made you feel helpless, like some stupid, naive child, you were willing to confess in this instance that you didn’t understand. But you wanted to. You wanted to know why he seemed so intent on keeping you in the penthouse, and why he thought your going outside might be dangerous for either of you.

“Just because this is legal it doesn’t mean that people are accepting of it. There are those that would hurt you to get to me, or simply because they don’t agree with our arrangement.” Another sigh slipped from his lips and you watched as his shoulder lifted in an uncomfortable half-shrug. “I told you, you’re my responsibility, and if anything happened to you -”

“Why isn’t it safe for you if I go out?” You asked, wanting to understand which of you he was truly trying to protect.

“Because I’m the monster that’s taking advantage of the sweet, innocent young girl’s desperation, keeping you in my thrall so I can drain your blood,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if that was what was actually happening here. “If anyone found out, they’d burn the building to the ground.”

There was something about his voice, something that you knew should have scared you, something dark and sinister. You felt your cheeks start to heat, and that strange unwanted feeling growing in your stomach.

“I’m not -”

“What? Sweet? Innocent? Desperate?” The corners of his lips curled upwards as his dark eyes stared into yours. “Or do you really believe you’re not in my thrall?”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning and, despite taking a slow breath, your heart started to beat a little fast. His lips continued to curl upwards, and it took you a few seconds to realise that he was joking.

“That’s not funny,” you remarked quietly.

“It doesn’t have to be funny,” he shrugged, “it’s what people will believe regardless of what I do.”

“It’s not like I’d go out and tell people what I do for you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Who’d want to admit to any of this?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice and you immediately felt bad.

As complicated as all of this was and as much as you didn’t like how much control he had over things, it was what you’d accepted and agreed to. He wasn’t holding you prisoner, you could quit whenever you wanted. By admitting that you’d want to keep this hidden, you were admitting to being ashamed of what you were doing, you were admitting that some part of you felt like it was wrong.

All he’d really done was give you a job. And all he was doing was trying to exist.

Billy allowed the silence to linger for a few moments before breaking it.

“Like I said, we can discuss the possibility of you going out, but I would prefer that you didn’t go alone.”

“But, how - I mean, you can’t -”

“Go out during the day? No, I can’t,” he decided to intervene and save you any further embarrassment. “But I have human friends or, if you’d prefer, there are plenty of places open after dark. We could even go to dinner...”

“Dinner?” It seemed like a strange offer for him to make. “I didn’t think vampires ate?”

Billy gave the slightest huff of laughter, no doubt at your lack of knowledge. He shook his head, obviously forcing back his smile.

“We can eat, it just doesn’t sustain us the way it does for humans.”

“Oh,” was the only word you allowed to fall from your lips. You had questions - so many questions - but you didn’t want to ask because it would just show your ignorance further. And it didn’t even cross your mind that your boss had basically just asked you to go to dinner with him.

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to arrange anything straight away, but if you really want to go out I’ll sort something out. I just need you to be patient, okay?” He told you and you nodded, not happy but certainly feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d eventually be able to go outside.

The conversation over, you wanted to return to your room and rest, hoping you’d feel better by tomorrow. But you didn’t move and neither did Billy. He stayed silent, watching you, considering you for a moment.

Then his hand was on your cheek and your breath caught.

“You look tired,” his voice soft now, sad even.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

“You’re not. You’re not sleeping enough and you haven’t been eating properly.”

“How -” you shook your head, deciding you didn’t want to know, but Billy decided to answer regardless.

“Your blood.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “The agreement is that you stay in good health, that includes eating and sleeping. I know that all of this has been an adjustment for you, but I need to know that going forward you’ll do what’s required to take care of yourself.”

You almost wanted to laugh. For a split-second you’d almost thought that he might actually be concerned for you, that he might care about your wellbeing. But, no, he only cared because - what? Your blood didn’t taste as nice when you were tired and hungry?

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you answered, finally forcing yourself to take a step back, causing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

He was about to remind you to call him Billy but, obviously, he thought better of it. Nodding, he let you go.

“I won’t be back until late tomorrow night,” he told you and, again, all you could do was nod as you slipped back through the door to your rooms and headed for your bedroom.

As you sat down on your sofa and turned on the TV, you couldn’t help but think over everything that had been said. You could still hear the bitterness in his voice when you’d admitted that you didn’t want anyone to know about your arrangement. With time to think about it, you knew it wasn’t fair; people might not accept or understand it but, really, it was no one else’s business what either of you did. Besides, what was the alternative? Plenty of people sold blood, a lot of them made a living working for blood farms. How was this any different?

You even grudgingly understood why he wasn’t comfortable letting you go out without an escort. The longer you sat and thought about it the more conflicted you felt. Billy seemed to be trying and you were - you didn’t even know what you were doing anymore. You were being difficult. In part that was because of him, because of his demeanour, because he was just so damned attractive, but that didn’t excuse your behaviour.

Regardless of how you felt about him or about anything, you’d agreed to his conditions at the start of this and you didn’t get to throw a tantrum when you didn’t get your way. If Billy was willing to meet you halfway, then that would have to do.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, you sat back and watched TV, trying to relax before you finally went to bed.

The next day was a reset, you started your little schedule all over again, and you decided that you were going to make more of an effort. This was a job and you were getting paid over two and a half thousand dollars a day, you needed to remember that fact. You needed this to work out. It was only a year and, after that, you’d never have to follow rules again.

You felt better, you felt like the last few days had been nothing more than a bump in the road; you were still getting used to everything, still getting used to dealing with Billy, that was all.

It was nice having some space, knowing that you wouldn’t have to try and make conversation with him that night. It meant you could sit and read out in the penthouse and watch the sun going down. Though, it would have been a lie to say that you didn’t wonder where he was or what he was doing.

Before going to bed that night, you drew blood and left it in the fridge for him, for whenever he returned. Tomorrow, you’d bring up the subject of going outside again, even if it meant going out at night with him. With a tired sigh, you closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep

The sound of breaking glass and a pained howl pulled you from your sleep. It was still pitch black outside and, without thinking, you quickly left your room and headed out into the penthouse.

The lights were on and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The source of the noise was easy to spot; Billy in the kitchen, braced against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up, his head hanging forwards. The floor was a mess of blood and broken glass, and it was starting to become apparent what had happened here.

“Mr Russo?” You called softly, daring to slowly step towards him. He didn’t answer, so you tried again. “Billy?”

Tension seemed to fill his body, like a predator getting ready to pounce, but he didn’t move.

“Stay back.”

It wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t that rough, dark tone that you’d been playing over in your head, it was something else. A snarl, an angry and desperate sound that had managed to claw and tear its way out of him.

Your heart started to pound, every ounce of common sense you possessed telling you to turn back, to lock yourself in your room. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him not knowing if he was alright. It just wasn’t how you were raised.

“What happened?” A stupid question, but it helped break the silence. “Do you need help cleaning -”

He turned and your heart skipped a couple of beats, squeezing in your chest, causing your breath to catch. His dark eyes were almost completely black, like endless voids staring at you; his face was paler than ever and his hands were trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

You’d only seen something like this once before but you knew immediately what was happening.

He was hungry.

“I said stay back,” his teeth bared, his voice causing your stomach to knot.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he’d turned to face you, his body pressed back against the counter like he was trying to keep himself away from you. You mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, trying to figure out how to help him. You couldn’t leave him like this - if not for his sake, but for the sake of anyone who might come across him.

(You were going to have to feed him, but you couldn’t let him bite you. You wouldn’t let him bite you.)

With slow movements, you reached for the cutlery drawer and cautiously removed a knife. You saw his eyes widen, a flicker of shock and fear on his face, like he thought you were going to turn the knife on him. But, without pause or hesitation, you drew the blade across your palm and offered him your bloody hand.

“Here,” you offered timidly.

“What are you -” but his words fell dead the second he looked at your hand. For a second he shrank back, fighting his nature as the hungry look on his face turned more desperate. Without warning, he surged forwards, taking your hand in his and pulling it to his lips. Your heart continued to race as you felt his lips against the wound, pounding an uncomfortable rhythm that echoed in your ears.

You heard that sound from him again only, this time, it wasn’t suppressed; a guttural moan that vibrated through his chest as he pressed himself closer and closer to you. He didn’t stop pressing forward until you felt the counter at your back, his hard body against yours, leaving no space between you.

The floor disappeared beneath you. No, you quickly realised that you had been lifted up, placed on the counter. His hips slotted between your thighs, pressing closer still, and - oh.

You gasped at the hard outline of his cock between your legs and the way he started to grind himself against you. It was too much and not enough all at once. It was wrong and you knew it shouldn’t be happening but all you could think about was satisfying the dull throb that you’d felt between your legs for days. It wasn’t long before your cheeks started to heat, feeling the wetness of your arousal quickly soaking through your satin pyjama bottoms. Instead of coming to your senses and pulling away, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

A whimper escaped you as his free hand slipped beneath your pyjama top, his cold fingers trailing upwards until his hand was palming your breast, his icy touch causing your nipple to pebble.

The longer it went on, the more it felt like some wonderful dream, like it wasn’t really happening. You felt like you could float away at any more moment, the whole world turning on its axis, all because of him. You couldn’t think why, couldn’t summon enough rational thought to think those feelings through, not when you could feel just how thick and hard his cock was.

His lips pulled from your hand, leaving you feeling breathless. The blood smeared across his mouth should have disgusted you - everything about this should have disgusted you - but it didn’t. All you could think about was the euphoric sensation of his hips moving against yours, pushing you closer and closer to a breaking point, so you didn’t shy away when his blood-slick lips slanted over yours or when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

The taste of your blood on his lips barely even seemed to register. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Everything about the moment was intoxicating, you felt drunk, lightheaded, like you couldn’t even control your own body anymore. All you could do was exist in the moment.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, blood soaking into his shirt as you held tight. Soon enough, your hips started moving against his, desperately seeking the sensation that now felt so close. All the while Billy kept kissing you, letting out unrestrained groans against your lips, obviously chasing his own satisfaction.

Desperate for breath, your lips finally pulled from his, your head dropped back taking gasped breaths between your moans. But it wasn’t enough to stop the room from spinning, to stop the feeling of losing yourself completely.

“My little hummingbird,” you heard him groan.

Fingers fisted his hair as his lips moved to your neck, rough kisses quickly giving way to sucking and licking at your skin, while the press of his cock became more frenzied. Then you felt the scrape of teeth against your throat and -

Your vision swam, overcome by the most violent orgasm you’d ever experienced; your body shivering and shaking with the intensity of it before you slumped forward into his arms, losing consciousness.

End Note : Idk why Billy always goes feral in the third chapter but here we are. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!!

Tumblr is being stupid and only letting me mention 5 people at a time so this week I'm going to try putting all the mentions in the comments for the tag list. Sorry if you didn't get tagged last chapter

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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